#eldritch peredhel
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Unwritten Fics game
I was tagged by @runawaymun to talk about all my as-of-yet unwritten fic ideas! I have many, many of them. Here are a few. Feel free to send me asks about any of them, or to tell me which ones you'd most like to read in the tags!
Earendil-drinks-the-Silmail-AU: see Tumblr post here. Elwing gives Earendil the Silmaril's light to try and heal him from an illness, and both he (and later E&E) now have the light of the Silmaril within them. This causes problems for the Oath of Feanor. Can't decide whether to make it serious and heartbreaking or extremely silly.
Immortal Elros AU: definitely need to post about this one. In which Elros sees the mortals who will become the people of Numenor, loves them, and decides the best way to help them is to be immortal, to protect their descendants and maintain their legacy long after they're gone. He becomes Numenor's beloved guardian, caring for it's people for centuries. This all goes pretty well until Tar-Mairon shows up on the island.
Faustian Bargain AU: when both Gil-Galad and Celebrimbor are captured during Eregion's fall, Elrond makes a dangerous deal with Sauron to get them back. In exchange for their release, Elrond offers to become Sauron's captive, and to help him in his efforts to reach the Void and free Morgoth. Elrond, of course, has other plans. So do the now-free (and incredibly worried) Gil Galad and Celebrimbor.
Unexpected Problems: see Tumblr posts here and here. All about the issues Elrond runs into in Valinor– from people debating about whether or not he counts as an Ainur to Noldor being scandalized that he only wears a couple pounds of jewelry. Also his repeated attempts to stop Galadriel and Bilbo from completely destroying Valinorian society.
The Love of a Parent: Elrond's parents continue to look out for him, whether from beyond the circles of the world or from the stars above. Probably largely outsider POV. A chance for more eldritchry.
On Estel: In which Earendil goes into the void, searching for Maeglin's lost spirit. Slight AU in the sense that it's very Maeglin sympathetic, and has him having a good familial relationship with Turgon, Idril, and Earendil.
Ten Little Soldier Boys: my take on who Finrod's faithful ten were, why they were so loyal, and the moments they each decided they would give anything to keep Finrod safe. OC heavy but very dear to my heart.
Misfits, Outcasts, and other Characters of Ill-Repute: a series of oneshots about the various people who end up in Rivendell and how they got there. Includes canon characters (Glorfindel, Erestor, Lindir, etc.) and some OCs (including an old Feanorian diehard and one of Thingol's bodyguards, and, of course, Garthaglir the Library Orc)
No pressure, but I'm going to second Runawaymun's tagging of @jaz-the-bard (I don't think they've done the game yet but I might've missed it on their blog)
#silmarillion#silm fic#silm au#tag game#elrond#elrond peredhel#elros#elros tar minyatur#gil galad#celebrimbor#earendil#maedhros#maglor#elwing#galadriel#maeglin#finrod#bilbo baggins#rivendell#eldritch peredhel#kidnap fam
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mom says it's Cel's turn with the eldritch monster boyfriend :)
Thank you to everyone who joined me on stream to watch me color this!!
#celrond#elrond#celebrian#eldritch elrond#eldritch peredhel#silmarillion fanart#lotr fanart#my art#that's nightingale plumage btw
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Aragorn thinking he had a relatively normal elvish upbringing. Like all the rangers think it was weird as fuck but they put that down to normal elf weirdness. And then he starts talking to Legolas as part of the fellowship. He talks about the stuff people used to do in Rivendell and Legolas is just like. What. Lord Elrond did what now?
Apparently the rain storms that occurred whenever Elrond or one of his kids got mad are not an elvish thing. Neither is the random stuff combusting into flame. Or the flowers just growing out of nowhere. Or the- ‘I’m sorry, he just held that guy at sword point? And it had no diplomatic repercussions?’ Legolas was sounding more and more concerned.
Aragorn tried to come up with a response. No one in Rivendell would react like this. ‘I mean it’s the expected reaction when someone tries to sneak up on him? Something about First Age Beleriand?’ Legolas paused for a second and then admitted ‘ok that actually sort of makes sense.’ The hobbits have no idea what’s going on. Neither do Gimli or Boromir.
#Silmarillion#tolkien#lord of the rings#the fellowship of the ring#legolas#aragorn#eldritch peredhel#feral elrond#elrond peredhel#gimli#boromir
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Lmao imagine if a couple wanted to get married in Lindon or Imladris and saw Elrond and was like “sure why not” and just, asked him to witness their vows in place of any actual maiar or valar.
Like the relationship between the elves in the Valar-Only-Mildly-Care Place and the Valar/Maiar themselves has got to still be stiff since elves are stupidly stubborn about holding grudges, so imagine if a couple just went “fuck the valinor glowsticks, Lord Elrond has been feeding us well and sheltering us for over a century. He’s got some ainur blood anyway.”
So they ask Elrond to be witness and he agrees thinking they just want a lord’s blessing or something and then-
“[Elvish Marriage Vows] we swear in the name of Lord Elrond Peredhel and Eru Illuvatar [More Marriage Vows]”
And at this point Elrond just has to roll with it but he bluescreens later while Erestor and Glorfindel laugh at him (Celebrian and or Gil-Galad too if they’re around)
Bonus points if It becomes a tradition in Imladris/Lindon even though he neutrally suggests a vala instead every time like
Elrond, trying not to get smited as soon as he steps foot into Valinor: hey Lady Yavanna is pretty cool though, right?
Elven Couple, exiled thousands of years ago and still frost-bitten: yes, pity there were no flowers in the Grinding Ice, my Lord. Anyways, would you mind being a witness to our wedding ceremony?”
Elrond starts glowing slightly and never lives it down. He goes to Valinor and people still ask him out of tradition or genuine respect and the Valar just have to put a small tapestry of Elrond as a patron of unions or something so they can claim some sort of control over the situation.
Elrond is mortified, and nobody lets him live it down.
#silmarillion#silm headcanons#silm hcs#elrond#elrond peredhel#tag.words#eldritch peredhel#somewhat#elrond is so done#the valar are determined to seem in control#and totally not blinded by this sorta-maia gaining more followers than tulkas#Tulkas the Useless as the middle-earth elves say#is rlly trying not to look offended#he is failing
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December; the 6th
Elrond
He´s such a cat person and I love that about him:) he hisses at people
#tolkien#silmarillion#jrr tolkien#lotr#lord of the rings#the hobbit#elrond#elrond peredhel#christmas calendar#christmas art calendar#tolkien art christmas calendar#silm art#tolkien art#lotr art#digital art#my art#eldritch peredhel
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The Valley of Rivendell.
She was a place of healing and rest and peace. But it was not always that way. Long before the elves settled there she was a wild valley, tripping any travelers with her roots, splashing her waters and smacking with her branches.
And then Elrond came and the valley learned about peace in herself, of healing amongst untamed trees and she welcomed Elrond home, announcing him as her lord to the world.
And when the valley sang of her wildness and freedom Elrond always sang back, disappearing for days into the wildest parts of the valley, dancing with the trees and the breeze.
And so from the moment Elrond stepped into the valley, she knew him for her lord and tamed herself to suit him. Because the valley takes care for what is hers. And Elrond and his family were hers first and foremost. The Valley never let any elfling run off to far, guiding subtly the curious ones home. The Valley never let the sun burn her Lady and always hid the little lady when she needed alone time.
The Valley of Rivendell was wild and free but she was also Elronds and so she became something more for him and his.
#silmarillion#tolkien#lotr#elrond#elrond peredhel#eldritch peredhel#rivendell#Valley of Rivendell#celebrian
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So I'm not into MTG but I do like collecting things so I bought a few booster packs a while ago just to check out the art. Finally got around to opening them and promptly FREAKED OUT because LOOOK they did Eldritch Elrond!
Elrond, Lord of Rivendell by Anato Finnstark for Wizards of the Coast/Lord of the Rings Tales of Middle-Earth 2023.
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Can someone write a fic based on this:
can you help me plot out a fanfiction based on the premise that:
Part of Elrond's Maia heritage is a sort of "shapeshofting"/"illusion" ...in where he either passively or consciously mirrors his looks/image to what others around him see/want to see. Directly to their minds. Like say Celeborn thinks he does or should look like a male Lúthien...then to Celeborn he does, but if Maedhros is in the same room but thinks Elrond most closely resembles Fingon, the to Maedhros he looks like Fingon while at the same time he looks like male Lúthien to Celeborn.
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The Forest Ghost of Rivendell
Summary:
One night in Rivendell, Elrohir, Elladan and Bilbo partake in telling scary stories, under Elrond's watchful eye. Elrohir weaves a tale about getting lost in the woods, overcome by the grief of the forest guardian- but his story might have more truth to it than one would expect…
Written for Innumerable Stars 2023. Please support the other works in the collection!
Rating: General
Words: 1228
Characters: Elrohir, Elladan, Gildor Inglorion, Bilbo Baggins, Elrond, Celebrían (mentioned)
Gift for @lemurious. Thank you for the fun prompt!
Read on Ao3 here!
#innumerable stars#elrohir#elladan#gildor inglorion#gildor#bilbo baggins#elrond#celebrian#rivendell#imladris#eldritch peredhel#lord of the rings#lotr#soleil's fanfics
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Rivals ?
Two different music styles, two different cultures, two different backgrounds.
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I love it when Elrond is portrayed as someone who is a little bit incomprehensible to most of the elves at first. Not even just because he's a half-elf, but because he reminds them all of so many other people, and that layering can be kind of jarring.
He sings beautifully, with a voice that sounds like no elf or man, and it reminds many of the Sindar of Luthien. It reminds some of the Noldor of someone else, another singer with raven-dark hair and starry gray eyes.
The braids he does his hair in– and he always keeps it braided at first, because letting it run loose is another thing that makes people whisper of Luthien– are in the traditional Noldor style. The survivors of Gondolin love that; Turgon always wore his hair in classical styles too. The other part of the House of Finwe that clung to traditional braids goes unmentioned. But everyone knows.
And he was clearly taught about court manners; taught to be gracious and charming, and a very good listener. The elf who could have taught Elrond those things is usually skipped over entirely, in favor of those reminiscing about Idril's graceful poise or Melian's endless patience.
He looks very much like Luthien, but there is a particular Finwean sharpness in his facial structure; something that makes him look a lot like Fingolfin, as well. Fingolfin looked very much like his father. And his older brother.
His smile is just like Earendil's (whose smile is just like Tuor's), and his strange, birdlike laugh is from Elwing. He fights and writes with his left hand– but then, so did Earendil, because while all elves are right-handed, not all humans or half-elves are. He eats no meat– just like Beren, they say, but the way Elrond tells it the choice had nothing to do with that history. There is ainuric power in him and something very human in the set of his shoulders. The flowers grow around any place he stays long enough. He gets sick in a way no elf, and certainly no maia, ever would. His accent is odd, and archaic, and changes noticeably when he's too tired to obscure it. His mannerisms are a mixture of about twelve people, almost all of whom are dead, and several of whom are not spoken of by the time he shows up in Gil-Galad's camp.
And the reflections of Elrond unsettle a lot of people; because one moment they see a fallen hero or loved one, and the next they see the person that took them. Or perhaps someone else, that they never knew at all. There is reverence and fear and uncertainty. It's messy.
Elrond himself is coming to peace with this by the War of Wrath. There is love in carrying the parts of your ancestors with you, even when they aren't around any more. And he knows better than anyone that he is always himself, first and foremost. Still, it takes everyone else a while to stop seeing a ghost and start seeing Elrond.
#silmarillion#silm headcanons#elrond#elrond peredhel#eldritch peredhel#maglor#maedhros#kidnap fam#earendil#elwing#luthien#it's Elrond hours in my brain again#*holds gently*#he deserves everything#he's never met any of his grandparents or other ancestors but he still has something from all of them
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Elven Maturity (Tolkien)
an interesting thing about Tolkien's elves is how historical they are: they are the living history of Middle-Earth as they know it (dwarven records & the avari memories likely differ).
the noldo and silvan elves met in LOTR are OLD. so old that Legolas could very plausibly be interpreted as having suffered being treated as "the baby" for, like, four hundred years.
(i assume that Arwen & her brothers are older simply because their parents became a couple before Thranduil became a king)
the age of Tolkien's elves thusly makes it difficult to discern a true "age of maturity": Galadriel was born before Arda had a sun, Elrond's dad is a star, Elrond married Galadriel's daughter and her grandkids look as old/young as she does when the Fellowship meets them. Arwen was an "adult" by mannish standards when Estel came to live at Imladris but her subsequent move & stay with Grandma Galadriel spares readers the awkward thought of Arwen grooming Aragorn for her husband.
This fixation on Arwen is Key because she is of the Peredhel, the half-elven. The first known peredhel is technically Luthien, born of maia and elf, but it is her child with a human who is the first "true" instance of a peredhel in the sense of a "Schrodinger's Immortal".
The age of elves becomes very pertinent to the modern reader when Dior is seemingly orphaned, married to an elven princess(?), has three kids with her, gets abandoned(?) by his maia grandmother due to his grandfather's violent death & left with said grandfather's throne... by the age of 33. not as in "33 years of The Trees" or "33 years in The Lamps"... 33 solar years. Mannish years. THIRTY THREE.
Dior was the first peredhel to be both mortal (human) and immortal (elf): Luthien was the Tolkien equivalent of a demigod but it's unlikely that that changed the expectations for her, in terms of lifestages or maturity.
Dior though? He was raised by isolationist elves during a Politically Tense period of time and no love story is alluded to, between he and Nimloth. The elves Dior was raised amongst did not think highly of humans nor dwarves (nor other elves) and Dior was the first half demi-god, half human elf known. Did they think that his mannish blood made him quicker to mature & doomed to mortality? Did Dior or any of the persons involved with his marriage have enough experience with ELVEN children, nevermind human children to compare against, to discern how "mature" Dior was or wasn't?
I cannot think of any elven romance that did not take at least a decade or three to result in a promise of "forever" or 'til mortality. This makes the prospect of a 30 year old King Dior, newly father to twin peredhels, a disturbing image.
Then we have Dior's daughter, Elwing, meet the only other peredhel not related to her: Earendil, son of Idril Celebrindal and the human Tuor.
Where Elwing was raised by elves & recently orphaned, Earendil had grown up in Gondolin with both an immortal & mortal parent to mind him. Earendil and Elwing were both 23 when they wed: this I find easier to accept, with the extent of their shared experiences of being refugees and not-wholly elven. that Tuor, a human mortal, is also canonically present helps significantly with my comfort zone: no alarms rang in his head when these two 23 year olds got hitched and thus, by mannish standards, they were two consenting adults.
HOWEVER.
we still do not know what ELVES think makes a wholly mature elf - the Noldor elves that these peredhel live amongst are still adapting to the "quickness" of mortal lifespans, of life beyond Valinor. There is, presumably, still a majority amongst the Noldo who predate the first sunrise: whether the silvans hold alternate expectations of maturity, based on living amongst mortals all this time, is unknown. I would safely consider Earendil to be am adult by human standards: he may have also had the mental faculties of an adult elf as well, thus able to recognise and understand an Eternal Committment.
...Elwing probably doesn't. She was raised amongst elves and likely expected to be exactly like Dior and he like Luthien: part-divine and thus, potentially, mature by default. Her actions upon meeting her childhood nightmares - the Sons of Feanor - seem more in-line with a traumatised youth than a traditionally "wise" elf (or human): she jumped out of a window with a [very definitely cursed] holy lightbulb without much thought to the two small children she left behind.
which... her childhood nightmare was "The Sons Of Feanor Stole My Parents And Brothers": Elwing yeeting herself from a tower does Exactly That, all to keep her "rightful inheritance" (i.e. Luthien's winning a silmaril off Morgoth by sing-off/right of conquest & Elwing being Luthien' direct descendant).
the only way i can read Elwing's actions - did SHE know she could turn into a bird when she yeeted herself? did she ever plan on, y'know, coming back after her understandable panic response? no? straight off to alleged elf heaven? kidnap fam it is then - is as Elwing, young adult of several species and never truly able to be any bar one, being out of her depth and going full maia (as her great-grandmother melian before her).
Elrond taking a few centuries to get together with Celebrian, Arwen then taking a few decades to figure things out with Estel... the difference between these later love stories in contrast to Dior and Elwing (& to elf/elf romances) is Very Striking.
Tolkien's elves can get very, very old. Their societies developed with the core concept of their getting old & living eternally. Elves cannot simply marry on a whim - they had better be certain on their spouse or they're in for a very, very taxing eternity (the Avari have different customs but any cross-cultural exchanging of notes seems to have failed miserably in the face of The Maeglin Situation).
The first [mortal&immortal] peredhel died before the weight of immortality could be felt; the second peredhels all left the realms of mortals very abruptly; the third generation of peredhels had entirely unique circumstances that resulted in Elrond being Elrond, Father Figure to generations of Mortal Men and Designated Sane Voice in every crisis.
I wonder what Elrond would think of his grandfather Dior if he were to ever meet him: Elrond has spent several immortal lifetimes learning all things peredhel. I struggle to think of Dior leaving the halls of Mandos, of Dior adapting easily to life amongst the truly immortal.
And if I consider 33 to be "too young" for a Peredhel to swear eternity to an immortal elf... what does that mean for the wholly elven Maeglin, whose orphaning at 80 solar years lead to his being RAISED in the utterly alien Gondolin? Maeglin, whose tween crush on his cousin (who is, if not "older than the sun" very certainly "old as heck" at this time) became blown entirely out of proportion due to his very existence being a Scandalous Tragedy to the Noldo.
Maeglin dying at 190 is considered "very young for an elf". What humans was Doriath in the habit of noticing for them to consider 30 year old Dior an eligible bachelor?
#in which i wildly and egregiously go ham at probably unintentional implications of king thingol being genuinely monstrous#the peredhel#tolkien meta#tolkien elves#silm#dior of doriath#luthien#elwing#eldritch peredhel#earendil#mundane peredhel#logistics of immortality#maeglin was a baby#dior was even more baby#thingol is sus
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If I Were Not Myself Would This Be Easier
My entry for @halfelvenweek featuring Celebrian grappling with the daunting lack of knowledge there is about peredhel and Elrond being reminded of his own years spent trying to figure out his identity.
C/W: Brief mention of periods if you’re particularly sensitive to that.
Elrond sectioned one pile of archivist notes into three more separate piles with a sure certainty that he would not remember the criteria by which he’d done it by the end ‘that was if they were in anyway separate by then,’ he thought as the soft midsummers breeze lifted a page and the entirety of the makeshift library was jostled as he shifted his legs under the sheets to catch it. This certainty was solidified as he found himself intrigued by a transcript of a debate that was civil only in the lack of profane vocabulary on the matter of the Quenya Ban and on where to categorise it. A new pile it was.
He knew logically that the very depth of the night was far from the best time to be doing this, at this time of year he should not have to wait far longer for better light than that of the lamps in their bedchamber, and a desk would be a more ideal work environment but nonetheless he found his productivity improved greatly when it was least convenient to be brimming with a thirst for knowledge.
He was so engrossed and enthusiastic that he did not notice the return of his wife through the swaying curtains until the mattress dipped beside him as she collapsed face first onto the sheets as if intending to sleep right then while still in her dressing gown and slippers.
He carefully slipped the papers from beneath her and set them on the floor before they were creased too severely and she stretched her arms up and shifted to rest up against the pillows with long yawn, ‘Elrond?’
‘Hmm? Yes, dear?’
She barely restrained a snicker as she rolled to watch him affectionately ‘What exactly are you doing?’
He looked down at the papers in front of him and started to tidy them off the bed ‘Well you were gone so I thought I’d read while I waited for you but then I noticed the book wasn’t compiled correctly, someone had put the Nirnaeth Arnoediad before everything about Gondolin Celebrian, which makes no sense so I started reordering things and-’
He cut off awkwardly and turned to face his wife once he remembered the reason for her absence and that no matter how patient she was with his sleeping habits this was probably not a time she wanted to be hearing about his archiving.
‘Oh, is Arwen alright? She’s not upset is she, I swear if one of the boys said something to her-’
Celebrian settled into the crook of his arm and kissed his neck soothingly before replying.
‘There’s no need to worry to yourself Arwen is perfectly alright. But, well,’ she scrunched her face up in contemplation as if not entirely sure of the truth of her words.
‘But there is something. What troubles you?’
‘Well she seems in good health, she- she started her bleed,’ she whispered that last bit with surprising distress for an elleth who had never shown much reservation in such simple matters.
‘I’m not sure I follow the problem?’
‘She’s not yet thirty Elrond! There should have been another decade before we had to worry about this, even accounting for her perdhel blood!’
‘Celebrian, I’ve said it’s not an exact science with these things, there’s no way to really anticipate….. anything really,’ he spoke haltingly, the nature of his own blood and his children’s by extension was always a complex topic and deserved to be considered with care.
She clenched her eyes tightly together in the way he knew indicated tears welling up behind them and that her unease was not a sudden thing but something that had been building.
‘I know that. I do and I try to get used to it but, oh Elrond they’re my children and I feel as if I know nothing at all about them! I have no understanding of so many things they go through, when I was trying to reassure Arwen she kept talking of symptoms I’ve never even heard of before and I told her it was all perfectly normal because she seemed alright but I don’t know.’
She lowered her voice to a soft earnest whisper, ‘I sometimes feel that you could do this better yourself. You just understand all of this in a way that I never can, it seems as if anything could happen with them and it’s terrifying!’
Her concerns brought to mind memories he knew his wife would not enjoy a comparison to, of the battle hardened kinslayer, with the voice of silk and raw power both, fervently conversing with his brother over the latest incident that left him feeling so thoroughly out of his depth both as a caretaker in general but especially one to two who were the only of their kind as a direct result of his actions.
‘Don’t say things like that my love, you are an excellent mother and the children love you so very much, as do I, you do not need to understand everything to make them feel safe and loved, which is the important thing and you do it so well,’ he definitely wasn’t thinking of how said kinslayer had held him to his chest on sleepless nights and gently teased knots out of his hair while two who may not have been as out of depths in regard to the nature of half elves were certainly too so in other ways to do so. Neither blood, nor good character make a good parent in all cases and one with arguably neither may be one in others. Celebrian was a good mother, there was no question about that and it would not do for her to think otherwise.
‘It’s terrifying for me as well. I know I may come across as if I know these things but I have scarcely more idea than you a lot of the time. They are the only children of that exact genetic combination of elvish, edain and Maia blood that ever has or ever will exist and while that’s a daunting a prospect and not in the slightest simple for us or them there’s a beauty in it all the same. They will discover and shape themselves in a way none ever will again, each in their own way.’
He knew the fear that she speaks of, how could he not when it is one he felt his whole life, not for his child but for himself? Waking up in the morning and not knowing what may happen to him, if his skin should turn to fire or ice, if plants should grow at his feet or the rocks should crack at his voice, with none he spoke to having anymore idea. He hit adolescence at fifteen and in a peculiarly staggered manner, Elros in an entirely different pattern as well.
He still doesn’t know when he was an adult and no one around him did either. Following logic he supposed it should have been in and around his fifties but whether that was true or not he’ll never know, he reckons it came a lot earlier and could convince enough people of that to let him bear arms at twenty three. Whether Elrond was in all truth still a child- it’s hard to be entirely sure. A childhood such as his would make it hard to tell.
What he did know was that callouses formed over his fingertips while he weaved sweet clear music to bend starlight, rivers and flame with naught but a harp. He knew that many didn’t know what to make of him or the seemingly endless contradictions. He’d had more than one conversation in which he’d been oh so politely asked to ‘tune it down’ a bit, that he was unnerving people and if he looked and sounded enough like an elf and chose to be one why did he have to keep complicating matters for himself. He supposed it would have been ‘easier’ if he were in elf but the fact remained that he wasn’t, and he had no illusions that when they asked why he kept complicating matters for himself what they meant was complicating matters for them. How could it be confuse him to be what he was?
He supposed that vein of questioning may not have frustrated him so if it hadn’t been exactly what he’d heard over countless other things, his gender, his inclinations, his parentage and loyalties. They did not truly want to help him they wanted to be able to know which little box they should put him, if they should condemn him, pity him or embrace him as their own but this was a very difficult distinction to make when he insisted on being both their’s and their enemy’s kin and did not have the decency to pick one. When he did make the Choice many people were confused as to why he kept making a point out of being a Perdhel because he ‘was an elf now’ as if that was what the Choice had been about.
They did not actually wish to understand, they wished for things to be simple so he made a point of continuing to challenge them as much as possible. He strode about Lindon in swaying elvish gowns holding piles of books and scrolls, gathered herbs in the folds of an edainic skirt and apron, sparred with all the Feanorian techniques in a Beorian tunic, sung the work of Maglor in the unmistakable sweet tone of Luthien Tinuviel, flirted shamelessly with whoever caught his eye and laughed among the tips of trees with his floor length dark hair streaming behind him arrayed in robes of Nolofinwean blue. He outraged all with every manner of braid and insignia and above all refused to comprise on any facet of himself to assist any other’s comfort with his existence.
The place in the world for him and his children did not exist but they would make one. The way he had created one at Gil Galad’s side and again in Imladris. The way Elros had among the Numenoreans, his parents had with each other all the way back to Luthien defying the laws of death itself to create what had previously been impossible. They would make one and it would be glorious.
#silmarillion#tolkien#lotr#halfelvenweek#elrond peredhel#celebrian#arwen undomiel#genderfluid#eldritch peredhel
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I love the idea of Gil-Galad just being A Guy while Elrond and Celebrimbor are insane, actually.
Consider;
Elrond, so pissed that the indoor plants are rattling: Fuck That Courtier 👁️⭐️🗡️
Gil-Galad, wondering if he can still eat his salad if it’s sprouted ominous flowers: Yeah, what a bitch.
And
Celebrimbor, setting a jar on Gil-Galad’s desk: I have discovered a new chemical 😁
The Chemical™️: *eats through the jar, eats through Gil-Galad’s desk, sizzling as it tries to eat through the stone flooring*
Gil-Galad, seeing an Opportunity: can you move the jar a little to the left? That’s where the complaints from Lord Oropher are stacked.
Love the idea of Gil being a regular dude while his alleged cousins are the resident eldritch horror and the mad scientist next door.
#tag.words#gil galad#ereinion gil galad#elrond#elrond peredhel#celebrimbor#lindon tolkien#silm shitpost#or#silm headcanon#either one#eldritch peredhel
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Elrond and Celebrian, how I love them~
#tolkien#silmarillion#elrond#celebrian#elrond u lil awkward autistic creature i love you#jrr tolkien#lotr#lord of the rings#elrond peredhel#eldritch peredhel#elrond x celebrian#celrond#elrond is giving a lil kiss#this is somewhere in the third age as im drawing elrond in his third age clothes design#i like to think this is when they just started dating#celebrian is proud of him#shes probably plotting how and when to propose#i dont think elrond is that tall celebrian is just pretty small#she got that from her dad#yes i see celes parents with straight hair she got her curls from one of her grandparents#silm art#tolkien art#digital art#my art#this is gonna be in the dtiys now only a 2/3 more to go
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BTS for to partake!
SORRY for taking so long to get to this, I just couldn't pick a passage to talk about, but YES.
This is from chapter 24 - when Celebrimbor and Elrond establish their Ósanwë link -- and idk there's a lot to unpack here with regards to references and Thoughts I Have so I think it's a good one to talk about! Buckle up aslkdgh this is going to get really long.
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The way to Elrond’s core is not quite a maze, but it is complex. Elrond is huge. The glimpses of him which Celebrimbor had the privilege of witnessing in those times Elrond had felt safe enough to unveil himself feel like dim reflections in a poor mirror compared to what unfurls before his feet now. It’s a shock to find that the piece of him which Celebrimbor had thus uncovered was not Elrond at all, really, only the threshold to what Is.
(I got a lot of questions from readers regarding this chapter and Gil-Galad, and how it's possible for Gil to establish an Ósanwë link with him and somehow manage to still treat him like garbage and not recognize that he's uh, semi-divine? And the thing is: Gil has never actually gotten this far. In the rules I've built up around Ósanwë, you don't actually have to get to the center to simply establish a link. You have to get to the core of a person in order to bond (which is why neither Elrond nor Celebrimbor actually touch each other's cores), but to establish a link you don't have to go even as far as they're going in this sequence. You just have to be allowed inside. They're exploring and playing because they love each other and are interested, and because there's a huge amount of trust. Elrond trusts Celebrimbor enough and more importantly: Melian trusts Celebrimbor enough with Elrond. The bit of him that is Melian acts, at times, as an independent, separate consciousness from Elrond and She does a lot to guide, protect, and strengthen him. That's part of why Elrond's interior landscape is the way that it is. And, especially the younger Elrond is, the less he is aware of/in control of what the bit of him that's Melian does.
So all that to say, Gil-Galad never really got beyond the threshold with Elrond. So while he has been able to fundamentally alter/twist some parts of Elrond's Theme due to his meddling, he never got deep enough to see the divine parts and thus be in any danger of meddling with them. That was partly Melian protecting Elrond, partly Gil just not being interested in exploring deeper because -- well, it's an enmeshment thing, if that makes sense? If he were to delve deeper into Elrond, he's opening himself up for Elrond to delve deeper into him.)
At first, the expanse before him is only a slope the color of purple heather, broken neither by rock nor tree, but slashed through with spots of green where Elrond’s thoughts run deep and fluid as water. Celebrimbor treks across this expanse for what feels like hours, then suddenly comes upon dozens of unexpected gashes, narrow with steep sides, that open suddenly beneath his feet. When he looks down, he is struck with vertigo for how cavernous they are, how unfathomable. Inside, he sees a verdant canopy of trees with a river at the bottom. There are gullies so narrow Celebrimbor might step over them, but so deep he might slip into them and never be found, filled with the sound of rushing waterfalls. Elrond guides him not as a figure in front, but a Force behind, like wind at his back, drawing him away from dark ravines that Celebrimbor could neither jump over nor climb into. Leading him around bogs that, on their surface, seemed green, lush with flowers, but somehow treacherous. A flytrap sticky-sweet with honey to catch intruders. He knows, somehow, deep down that if he wandered in there he might never come back out. Either doubling endlessly back upon himself, or otherwise consumed by some terrible Thing with a thousand rows of teeth, and a thousand-thousand faces.
Yes, this is a wider space than Celebrimbor ever could have imagined.
And still, he has not reached the end.
He comes at last to a cliff so sharp and unexpected that he nearly tumbles over the edge. He distinctly feels Elrond grab hold of him and pull him now onto a switchback path that goes down, down, down, a valley that seems to drill into the very earth, of which Celebrimbor cannot see the bottom.
Elrond’s Melody is stronger here. A current of hurrying water, of singing wind. It paints colors in Celebrimbor’s hair, across his skin, endlessly creative, seeming to drive down to his very marrow and soothe every ache. Celebrimbor smells pine as he descends. The air turns warm and sweet and gray. In that gloaming, he hears the call of a nightingale enter Elrond’s Melody, and then, after that, the sound of the Sea.
(Fun fact: I lifted this blatantly from Tolkien's descriptions of the road to Rivendell. So do with that what you will. Something-something Rivendell being Elrond literally manifesting himself into physical space...)
He reaches the Center at last.
A shorebank stretches on to the vanishing point as far as East is from West. A vast ocean spreads beneath the upturned bowl of a velvet-black sky. Here Celebrimbor stands at the thread between them where heaven kisses earth, where each is mirrored back upon the other, the stars reflected in the glassy wine-dark sea. They watch him as he enters, curious and welcoming, loving, loving, loving. Just as he had felt that night in his room.
(If you took a look at Elros, Elros looks exactly the same at the center. They're inversions of each other. Elros is in Elrond, Elrond is in Elros. Sky and sea and stars! (and Melian))
Elrond, here, flashes in all his multitudes: between Him, and Them, and It, and She, and the endless vault of heaven. All of it is infinite. All of it, Elrond.
Celebrimbor sinks to his knees in the sand. He knows, somehow, that beyond that sea there is a wood so dense and arcane that he could not dream of comprehending it. It would drive him mad. But he could touch the edge and stay sane, he thinks. Perhaps, someday, Elrond will let him.
(and that forest, of course, is the bit of him that is Melian -- just beyond the edge of what's really comprehensible. And yeah, you won't be the same after you get that close but also that's what would wind up forming a Bond, so...)
I would, Elrond says, watching him with a million eyes and two.
He bends and presses a kiss to Celebrimbor’s forehead that sears with light, and then gently leads him out.
Celebrimbor gasps as they resurface and he lands back in his own skin. Next to him, Elrond is bleeding starlight.
I love you, Elrond sends to him.
It floods him. Consumes him. Celebrimbor lets out a breathless laugh and says: “It is good to meet you at last, Elrond Peredhel.”
Elrond grins, radiates so much starlight it’s blinding, and leans in to kiss his mouth.
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idk hopefully that was interesting!! Thank you for the ask and the opportunity to ramble about one of my favorite passages in Partake!
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