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imakemywings · 7 months

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Maglor was not unaccustomed to such exits at such early hours of the morn. He may not have done so well on the open forest floor, but in the solid wood and stone of the halls of Menegroth, he was able to noiselessly pick his way out of the bedroom, collecting bits of clothing and jewelry as he went, until he could let himself into the hall. With a soft, smug exhale of relief, he hurried barefoot towards the entrance of the royal apartments, content with his easy escape.

That was, until he saw another hurrying towards that main entrance from the other side of the hall.

That figure froze at the same time Maglor did, and for an uncomfortable length of time, they gaped in silence. For a moment, Maglor tensed to run, for Maedhros’ expression was of a man contemplating a quick murder to silence a witness.

“Nelyo?” Maglor gasped.

“Shh!”

“What are you doing here?” Maglor whispered, slipping back into Quenya in his shock. Maedhros hesitated far too long for his usual responses.

“I was seeing the king’s loremaster about something,” he said, which made Maglor’s jaw drop even further.

“No you weren’t!” he exclaimed, stunned to have caught his adroit brother in a lie.

“And how would you know?” Maedhros demanded.

“Because I’ve just come from Daeron’s chambers!”

“I told you not to sleep with him! We are here for diplomatic—” Maglor was already shrugging.

“Forgive me, brother, but Daeron’s argument was far more convincing.” He flashed a toothy smile. “But what were you doing here? The princess is off visiting friends still.” Maedhros did not answer. Maglor’s eyes were growing wider still. He added: “You wore that same robe at dinner last night.” His hair was down, too.

“I do not have time for this conversation with you,” Maedhros said then, sweeping past him towards the door.

Maglor was a fool, but he was no idiot: he recognized a tactical retreat.

“Nelyo! Where were you!” he cried, spinning then at the sound of footsteps behind him and preparing to be chided for making a childish ruckus before the sun was fully above the horizon when he saw King Thingol coming down the hall towards him.

“Hm.” Thingol paused in time to observe the door swinging shut on Maedhros’ heel. Then, pressing something into the pile of clothes and jewels in Maglor’s stupefied arms, he said: “He left his cloak clasp.”

On AO3

#maglor #maedhros #daemags #thingol #maedhros x thingol #doriath summer fun #rocky writes #dorking around while waiting to be able to post my smut week pieces #the silmarillion #tolkien tag

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carmisse · 2 months

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Fëanorians and their offspring.

Basically fairly random headcanons where Fëanor has nine grandchildren and his line does not die out.

Maedhros and Fingon marry and have baby Ereinion. In this AU, Maedhros does manage to find the twins Eluréd and Elurín, whom he kept under his care; he even baptizes them with names in Quenya.

Maglor adopts (kidnaps) the twins. Following canon, for a change. Although it turns out that Daeron and he fathered a child while they were still married. They divorced after Doriath, so Maglor never knew his husband was in waiting.

After the death of her beloved cousin, Celegorm keeps the only memory of her, baby Maeglin, at her request (Tugorn, who is Turgon?).

After a night of wine without measure, the always neat Caranthir spends hours in bed with Turgon, which results in little Erestor.

Curufin simply disappeared for a year and when he returned he had Telperinquar in his arms.

Amrod and Amras are great uncles who spoil their nephews and nieces.

Space is limited, so I did not include the Feanorians' spouses. Husbands, or of course, in this AU they are queer.

These are completely random headcanons that come to mind.

The canon has gone to hell.

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thelien-art · 10 months

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Thank you for opening pride requests, I'm excited to see what you create this year! Could you perhaps do Daeron/Maglor with a trans flag?

For you too @solmarillion

The two only singers⁓

Just ignore every other bard in Tolkien´s legendarium, they're not important when these two are present.

🏳️‍🌈CELEBRATE PRIDE WITH ME🏳️‍🌈 - send in a character or a ship with a pride flag and I´ll draw it

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searchingforserendipity25 · 9 months

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Daeron/Maglor "...because the world is ending"? 😚

Hi @polutrope <3 This one one has been living in my docs as Daemags date night (the night to end all nights) for a month. Here it is at last!

The Night to End All Nights

Daeron had been deep into the roadless deserts, when Arien fell - her last blazing sunset had lit the dunes with dreadful beauty, rose sand purples and a red redder than red.

Then, the quiet. Handfuls of stars, snuffed out one after another.

He made his way onwards. Once, the land had not been desert; once, there had been paths of cobblestones paved with sound craft, and there had been chariots, carriages, riders and companies making their ways from glorious cities whose names were lost in the dust, removed from the world entirely, if not for Daeron's memory.

Daeron lived much in memory, now. There the dry well, there the empty streets of the empty city. Here, a deep-rooted peach tree had grown, where only a gray husk remained - he had gathered wild fruits from its generous boughs, shared them with an old enemy in the shelter of its shade, licked the juices from his fingertips and wrist and mouth until he shook as finely as the green leaves in the summer breeze.

Wherever he passed the land groaned with its own undoing.

Beleriand had been thus ruined, in its moribund years; but this was a ravaging wasting sickness, not a wound upon Arda to be solved with the amputation of one continent or another. Above and around and in all places a hundred, a thousand birds flew madly, till they dropped exhausted upon the last grass of the last spring.

The matter of the sky splintered and rained down great boulders of iron that shook and shattered the earth, smoldering with a fell fire, all the hard stone of the mountain ranges shaking and shaking like a single fevered body, bound up in strange resonances of power. One fell near enough to him that the raised dust clung to his lungs and fouled his throat for a time: and then Daeron grew afraid, for a time, shaken from the clear, beautiful rage against Morgoth into fright.

The cough passed, slowly.

The very air grew colder, made cruel without the sun. The waters grew wilder, without the moon; and all creatures grew despairing and violent, in the absence of starlight.

Still: Daeron went onwards. There was a great epilogue to judge - he was not a light-hearted critic, but he did intend to be there at the end, and at the start as well.

And he had an appointment to keep. They had agreed on this, a long time ago, and Daeron for his part was determined to cross crevasses as needed not to be the faithless one.

He had not thought Maglor would fail to be there. Not truly, in any case - not this time.

The land leaned towards the gaping of the world, its old longing for water calling out so starkly it was almost a song. This place had been full of life, once: a lake with many small islands, many new-made voices raised in song rippling the waters.

All the little water that remained reflected only darkness above, darkness around. Not enough remained of the waters of Cuiviénen to be drunk. Daeron’s torch lit it like the flare of a false moon, fading as passed it by.

It was quite beautiful, in its way. All things were unraveling to Song at last: the last fields of grass clinging to the cliff-side called out a rustling wind-song even as they turned to ash, glorious a rush of Music with the memory of the seed’s patience in winter and the growing rush of spring turning to the conflagration of summer.

Daeron closed his eyes. Did he weep, at the beauty of it? He could not sing. It was not time, yet; his voice curled thick and urgent in his aching throat, waiting.

They met at the very edge of the shoreline, where the whitewater rush of the shattered Encircling Sea broke into the gaping maw of the Void. The fall was very steep, the precipice very high, taller than any tower ever wrought. The sound of the water was an unnerving, slithering quiet, for it fell through fogs and mists; and the fall had no end.

A single raised light flickered, there where crumbling stone and air met, but the burned hand that held it up did not flinch from the licking slants of wind-swept fire.

“You are late,” Maglor said, chin raised. His voice, too, was less splendid than it might have been. Certainly less proud. Daeron’s heart turned in his chest, treacherously fond. “And I see you have not even brought any wine, either.”

“It was your turn to bring the wine,” Daeron pointed out. His words rasped in his throat a little, at the start. “I brought it last time."

"Forgive me! If it is any consolation," Maglor said. "I crossed the lands where the marketplace where those sweet bean pastries you loved once stood. Alas! Nought but ruins remain. There, here, everywhere! I had half a mind to start without you."

"That is well enough," Daeron said. He felt a little drunk already, dizzy with terror and Maglor's proximity.

His face caught the torch light, his eyes very bright. Maglor smiled at him. It was an effort - he could see the ancient grief moving in his face, a depth like the strata of the earth being pressed away to make room for it.

They had met on appointed dates two dozen times altogether. By the white piers of Belfalas or the moors of Arnor, sharing the same flask under the vibrant stars of Rhûn’s fields. Brushing knuckles; pressing their mouth’s where a touch had been, in the indulgent absurdity of second-hand lovemaking between two ancient creatures.

They had met. Not many times, but often enough; and always at the parting, regardless of how sweet or how bitter it might be, there was the renewed promise. We shall meet at the end! Even when it had been said in contempt and fury, and the end of the world not long enough to suit the day’s rage.

It passed, the anger. When one lived as long as they did, it grew very difficult to cleave to anything for very long. Grief was a habit, and singing duty and care and craft; all the rest passed and thinned as mist in the sun. Until they met again - until they met each other, and all colours grew bright, the winds colder, the summers gentler.

Daeron waved it away, lightly, light-hearted. O, he felt mad, trapped against the great maw of the black night - but a strange thing very like a laugh trembled on his throat.

"I know I shall! That is not my concern. I knew you would not start without me,” Daeron said. "I could not doubt it. And yet I am glad that I was late; I could not know how much of gladness remained, before I saw your light in the dark, waiting."

“Then I am glad," Maglor said, and the salt that clung to his hair prickled Daeron's nose when he neared. "Though it was a cold wait, and the journey colder still. You give me too much credit. For once! But I could not tarry. There was nowhere else to walk to, nor any other place I could wish to be."

“It is quite beautiful,” Daeron said, looking upon the cliffside. His eyes strained to see the scant starlight reflecting on the distant spray, silvering the night for brief instants. “In its way.”

“The sea was more beautiful,” Maglor said. "Its white sands and silver pebbles gleaming, and the black basalt sand of the Western islands. Gone, all gone! Now we are islanders only, the Encircling Sea the only sea; and its waters fall beyond reaching. I miss the sea-that-was, though it never did thank me for my company."

The mountains were gone. The fallow fields, and the valleys with their crumbling walls left abandoned in long lost days - the great cities of Men, one empire after another devoured by a greater and most ancient greed.

They had seen many kingdoms rise and fall together, over time; but there had been a constancy in that, not this absence of voices and wills, this death-bound silence.

It had not been often that they had wandered together for long. That was a thing neither of them could withstand easily - not they, minstrels to the dead, whose last elegiac duties were not suited to company. Their paths diverged, coming apart to come together again, and there had been joy too with every bitter parting. But they had agreed on this, under the light of the stars, Ages ago. Cuiviénen, at the end of all things - this much, at least, when the time came, at the end.

Daeron laid a hand on his cheek, and felt the warmth of it with a dizzying desire. So it would be this, then, he thought. The last touch; the last kiss, soft as a balm, a vertiginous fall into an embrace from a height no lesser than the sundered face of the breaking world. Daeron held him close with fierce hands, chased the stains of bitter soot on Maglor’s heeks with his mouth, tangled his fingers in braidless curls as dark as the night.

The last, the last! His eyes stung. Daeron was greedy, at the last, covetous with love as had ever been his vice, slow to relinquish. Love renewed all things, even grief; though the grief of Arda's fall had seeped into him into a killing drought, and no more tears remained in him to be shed.

The Music murmured its own last notes, a soundless song of mingled joy and despair.

More despair, at the end, and Daeron had feared, feared, feared it tremendous, more than the Starkinder's defeat or the death of all fruiting trees. Wandering alone in the lightless dark, voice failing and nothing listening, he had thought on the Theme and feared there would not be enough of joy, in the end - had judged his purpose beyond himself, all of Melian's careful and wise tutelage wasted and worn through.

So it had been, in solitude.

"Sweet Daeron. Forgive me,” Maglor said once more, sighing against his neck. His solid warmth was no greater than the flame's, wavering much as Daeron wavered on his feet. "I bring no gifts, and my might is diminished. The melody is yours, if you like. It is not wine, but it might suit your tastes as well, or better."

"It shall be," Daeron said. He knew it as he spoke, and almost laughed for how clear it was to him; he gripped Maglor's hand tightly. "But not mine alone, I judge; for are we not both singers of laments? One last paeon, then: and let not all things that were good and great and terrible fall unremembered, while there is breath with which to sing them."

Above them and around them the last stars went pale, and weary, and dead. The two torches flared, faded, lost the last of their fire.

Then, the quiet. Daeron stepped back. Raised a hand, to mark the time.

It was very easy, after all, to sing together at the end of all things: easy as summer, even in the dark.

#daeron #maglor #daeron/maglor #my fic #the silmarillion fanfic #daemags #wrestled with this on a four hour bus ride and it is finally done (and i've finally arrived 🙌 )

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solmarillion · 5 months

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Pity over Reason

A DaeMags piece I drew for Scribbles & Drabbles 2023. (@fall-for-tolkien) I love Daeron and Maglor as a ship so much. Even though we barely get a hint of them (possibly) interacting, the parallels between them are so fascinating, there's so much potential.

Please read the fics by @searchingforserendipity25 and @i-did-not-mean-to when they're revealed in the gallery!

I haven't been drawing in this art style lately, so I'm glad I got to return to it. The original sketch in the gallery is a bit different, as back when I drew that sketch, I had a different headcanon for Maglor's appearance. It's changed since then, and I love drawing Maglor's curls so much! My favorite part of this is Maglor and Daeron's expressions, and their lips especially. I think the ears also turned out really nicely, and they look very elegant, as they should. I might render this piece further in the future if I get the chance, but right now I'm actually very happy with it.

#daemags #daeron #maglor #makalaure #kanafinwe #daeron/maglor #daeron of doriath #scribbles and drabbles 2023 #silmarillion #doriath #feanorians #soleil's artwork

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polutrope · 4 months

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End of Year Fic Recs

Thanks @sallysavestheday for starting this template, and for the tag!

Recommend up to 5 series or multi-chapter fics from 2023 that everyone should read (multi-year WIPs count, if the last update was in 2023).

Recommend up to 5 single chapter fics/one-shots (long or short) from 2023 that everyone should read.

Recommend up to 5 fics NOT from 2023 that everyone should read (oldies but goodies).

Recommend up to 5 of your own fics (completed or WIP) from 2023 that everyone should read.

This was so hard. I need time for ten more rec lists because I read so much good stuff this year. If you are not on here but I commented on your fic this year, know that I sincerely wanted to put you on here. If you are not here and I didn't comment on your fic this year, please help me find it next year!!

Multi-Chapter/Other

Such a Marriage by DifferentSong (M, 29k, WiP). f!Maedhros/Maglor. Beautiful and unique treatment of these characters and relationship in the years after the second kinslaying. If you’re uncertain about this ship but curious, I highly recommend giving this story a try.

Droit du Seigneur by destinedatoms (E, 6.4k, WiP). Various elven kings hook up with their mortal vassals. Each chapter is so funny and hot, and features povs from very underwritten female characters.

Loyalty: A Tale in Three Voices (not rated, 10.1k, WiP) by @grey-gazania. Caranthir, Uldor, Easterling OFC. Compelling story, characters, and incredible worldbuilding following three unique POVs as an alliance is forged between the Easterlings and Feanorians. Great use of first-person.

Price of Eternity (series) by Encairion (E, 1.83 million, WiP). The novels and stories in this series are not going to be for everyone. They tackle basically every difficult topic you can imagine. They include takes that would probably make some of my mutuals torch the swanships. But Encairion does it all so skillfully. She’s like an artist who has mastered the techniques (i.e., the canon) and then does something radically original that only works because she has that foundation down. Some of her characterisations rewired my brain. I’m still far from done reading the series, but it’s truly a monumental achievement and so worth diving into with an open mind.

Celegorm by @dawnfelagund (reference work). Dawn’s bio of Celegorm for the Silmarillion Writers’ Guild is meticulously researched and engagingly written. Definitely worth a read for any fans of the Fëanorians or just how Tolkien’s characters evolved over the course of the legendarium’s development.

One-shots

The dining room by @ettelene (T, 8.8k). Ettelene kills it with group scenes and dynamics and this riotous fic about a Feanorian family dinner at Formenos from Celebrimbor’s POV showcases it beautifully.

Against His Wisdom by @melestasflight (M. 3.7k). Fingon/Fingolfin. A stunning, insightful look at the complexities of this relationship. Melesta handles the nature of the relationship so artfully. As always, their prose is so satisfyingly economical and impactful. I know the pairing may make some wary but I really encourage people to give it a try.

stardrop by @welcomingdisaster (T, 0.7k). Daeron/Maglor. I almost wept when I read this fic because it's so perfect. Lena somehow managed to get everything I love about this ship into 700 words. Doom, deceit, cultural misunderstandings, telling the narrative of your own life, immortality/mortality… if you want to know why I love Daemags, read this.

As Little as Might be Thought by @imakemywings (T, 2.9k). “Kidnap fam”. Rocky is a master of the argument and this spat between Maedhros and Maglor over the peredhel’s upbringing showcases it. So much characterisation and complicated relationship dynamics packed into this short piece.

Memories, Like Grains of Sand by @cuarthol (G, 1k). Elrond & Elros. cuarthol wrote some beautiful, complex works this year but this short piece stood out for me. The peredhel twins return to Balar and try to piece together their memories of Sirion. Showcases cuarthol’s talent for little moments of intimacy that will make you cry, not because they are particularly tragic (though they may be), but because they feel so real.

Oldies

Maglor and Daeron Sing the Blues by Voidflower (G, 5.6k). Maglor and Daeron meet in the Mississippi delta in the 1920s. I want to pour this fic in a crystal glass and sip on it on a rainy evening. Gorgeous prose and deeply satisfying character dynamics. 2018.

Dancing with my punchlines by LiveOakWithMoss (M, 321k). I know this Modern AU is fandom-famous already, but by god there’s a reason. I could not put these dramamonsters down. It was funny, it was touching, and it was spicy. I want to rip this fic open like a bag of chips and shovel it into my mouth in great handfuls. 2016.

What We May Become by @naryaflame (M, 8.8k). Caranthir/Finrod. Narya’s prose is delectably crisp and sensuous and I just loved reading this well-constructed nonlinear story of a fascinating rarepair. 2020.

The Redemption of Daeron by Rhunedhel (T, 7.3k). Daeron/OFC. I actually just found this and have not actually finished it, but I’ve read the first two chapters and it’s such a beautiful alliterative verse poem (!!) and original story of Daeron among the Avari. 1997.

An Education by @i-am-a-lonely-visitor (M, 49.4k). visitor has some of the most scrumptious, clever prose and most memorable characterisations I have read in the fandom and this first installment of his Elrondverse covering the early years is bursting with peredhel coming-of-age delights. 2021.

Mine

Scorched (E, 4.9k). Elrond/Maedhros, Maedhros/Maglor, Elrond & Elros. A psychosexual unfamily drama on Amon Ereb. Really enjoyed the experience of letting this tale unravel as I dipped into the minds of all four characters.

First Contact (T, 2.7k). Daeron/Maglor. Post-canon (they both sail). Daeron meets Fëanor. It’s a silly bit of sitcom, but also it’s about healing.

Who By Fire (M, 4.9k). Amrod/Fingolfin. A deep dark dive into the psyches of two hurting men in the early days of Fingolfin in Beleriand.

If You Are the Healer (E, 4.6k). Maedhros/Maglor. Liege/vassal dynamics and heaps of angst surrounding Maedhros’ decision to abdicate to Fingolfin. It’s fucked up, but they love each other.

Everlasting Darkness (E, 10.2k). Earendil/Maedhros, Elwing/Maglor (also Elwing/Earendil, Maedhros/Maglor). Canon divergence shitshow where Maedhros and Maglor are released from their oath on condition that they serve Eärendil and Elwing. My first fic of 2023, and it set me careening off the rails. No regrets.

[Bonus fic under my pseud: Played (E, 12.1k) by disastrousexpense. Maedhros/Maglor, Fingon/Maedhros. Absolutely off-the-rails smut between two asshole brothers in Valinor. It was SO FUN to write.]

Tagging the people tagged already and @curufiin @elentarial @lightqueer @searchingforserendipity25 @ladysternchen @tethysresort if you'd like to share your recs!

#fingon #fingolfin #maglor #maedhros #elrond #daeron #daemags #maemags #caranthir #2023 fic recs #fic rec #damn these are almost all about the same characters whoops!#but I think these are some pretty unique stories!

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welcomingdisaster · 13 days

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see, if your heart had a back door i'd just slip away

#daemags #back to being insane about them #daeron #maglor #my art #please click on it for higher quality tumblr is FRYING it in the preview

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kitcat22 · 3 months

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Daemags Time travel au!

Daeron and Maglor never technically got together. Maglor was very much in love and proposed on several occasions but Daeron despite also being in love was more flighty and nervous at the idea of being tied down especially to someone he knew deep in his bones was doomed no matter how the person in question tried to avoid it.

Daeron ended up dying in Doriath after being stabbed by Maglor who did not initially realise who it was he’d killed

Due to half maia magic Daeron filled with rage and grief didnt end up in the halls and instead got pulled into a time tunnel dragging maglor along with him although that was a bit delayed

Maglor ends up waking in his old body during a family trip to Aqualonde. He isnt aware that Daeron traveled with him but is increasingly worried about the barely escaped attempts on his life. He thinks Melkor must be suspicious of him.

Daeron is very angry that his genocidal bitch of an ex wont just die. Hes taken to making Maglor’s life as difficult as possible in the mean time. He steals one of every sock Maglor has so there is never a matching pair, he poured glue and chicken feathers on Feanor and made it look like it was Maglor who did it etc

Rest assured Maglor very much wants to die after several thousand years of walking along the beach mourning everyone and everything he’s ever loved, but first he has to make sure he fixes the future.

During this time Finwe and Olwe are both having mental breakdowns thinking they are hallucinating Elwe. A silver haired figure seen standing before the paintings of Olwe’s lost brother. A laugh that sounds so very familiar. Both of their wives and kids are very worried but trying to keep it a secret from the other party as well as the grandkids so as to not ruin the visit. After they both see this phantom at the same time they start to get even more worried that Elwe has returned to life and holds a grudge for them abandoning him to his terrible fate (marriage but they don’t know that)

Cue wacky adventures

#silmarillion #silm #the silm #maglor #makalaure #daeron #daemags #silm time travel #time travel #olwe #finwe #house of finwe #elwe #elu thingol #elwe singollo #thingol

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feanoriangrindset · 7 months

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plagued by daemags brainworm so severe it thwarts me from doing anything else the homoeroticism of being the last of your people the narrator the best musicians of two warring races but when they are all gone it doesnt matter anymore

#Ooooiuughggugh THEM #im CRAZYYYYYYYY #daemags

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i-did-not-mean-to · 10 months

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Beat the Heat

For my first entry, I'd like to thank @searchingforserendipity25 for the amazing DaeMags Prompt.

Not included, Faeron the demon-spawn lol

Words: 710

Characters: Daeron x Maglor

Prompt: Beat the Heat

Warnings: Nudity, sexual innuendo

Daeron stared at his unexpected visitor in disbelief.

"How do you even bear this heat?" Maglor groaned, wiping a ridiculously ornate handkerchief across his fair brow.

Cocking his head, Daeron smirked at the sight of the heavy robes and the beautiful but entirely impractical layers covering and restraining that glorious body he so adored.

The mighty singer, if one was to ask him, was disarmingly cute when he was whining, especially when his grievances were as frivolous and easily remedied as his present gripe.

Even beneath the canopy of the dense trees of his native forest, the sweltering summer heat could not be outrun or avoided, but Daeron was comparatively unfazed by circumstances he was so deeply familiar with.

"Well," he smiled as he pulled his own light tunic over his head resolutely, "I can show you what we usually do when it gets too hot to breathe."

The unconvinced expression on the distinctly Ñoldorin face only stoked the fire of his own enthusiasm, putting even the blazing sun overhead to shame with its intensity.

Maglor’s brows knit in confusion before his eyes lit up with undisguised curiosity.

"That's what you get for wanting to parade around like the little prince you are," Daeron laughed provocatively and discarded his worn leggings as well before padding cautiously towards the edge of the lazy river noiselessly. “The Blessed Realm must be quite a place if everyone dresses up like that with no regard for their physical comfort and safety.”

"I don't..." Looking down at his brother's handiwork, Maglor bit back the rest of his useless protestation. "I am sorry if I've left my more casual wear in my drawer when I set out for a potentially lethal quest."

Chuckling melodiously to himself, Daeron merely shook his head in quiet amusement.

Despite their consistent squabbling and impassionate fights, he liked Maglor and felt oddly honoured to be allowed to see behind the façade of the ever-stolid, hardened warrior and prince Fëanor’s second son generally presented to the people within the Girdle.

"Come here, Prince of Princes," he invited, extending a broad, tanned hand trustingly. "Lay off the burden of your station and your name, and join me in the purifying waters of the ever-young waters blessed by Ulmo himself."

"Bathing?" Maglor scoffed. He had expected a secret ritual involving rare, undiscovered plants and maybe even a few incantations as Daeron seemed so much closer and more intimately bonded to the fertile earth he lived and thrived upon.

The idea that his best remedy to the oppressive, asphyxiating heat was to simply throw himself into the cool river was almost disappointing.

At the very instant that thought crossed his mind and made his brow furrow in dismay, his gaze fell on the mesmerising skin—dappled by specks of sunlight filtering through the trees—of his host and all his misgivings subsided instantly.

“I wonder what they’ve taught you in that tree-lit paradise of yours,” Daeron commented sharply as he floated on his back on a clement current, “if you don’t even know that these garments—beautiful as they might be—are hardly appropriate for a summer day over here.”

A thousand replies came to Maglor’s outraged and rather vexed mind—they had not known and, moreover, had had no reason to even think about the meteorological conditions of a far-away world—but as he saw the peaceful expression on Daeron’s face, his desire to shed the stifling layers of heavy brocade took precedence over his irrepressible need to defend his honour.

“Go ahead,” Daeron grinned, getting to his feet again, “you may call me an ignorant savage now, but, tell me dearest Kanafinwë, is this not better?”

Maglor swallowed heavily. Rivulets of pure, cold water ran down the mesmerizingly broad expanse of Daeron’s chest and his wide stance let the young prince divine every curve and dip of his body through the shimmering, translucent veil of the river.

For some unfathomable reason, this hint and promise of nudity was more titillating and entrancing to him than the sight of Daeron’s bare flesh, stretched out on a carpet of soft grass.

“It’s…perfect. And so are you,” Maglor admitted and dove through the blessedly cool floods to embrace this paragon of ancient magic and sublime comfort.

@fellowshipofthefics Here's my submission for the first week of the July Summer Fics.

Lots of love from me!

#og post #fotfics july event #fotfics summer stories #DaeMags #Daeron x Maglor #Daeron #Maglor #Beat the Heat #Week 1 #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt

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