Day 2: the Darkening
Dear Nerdanel,
I am sorry to respond to you letters so late but mother has been unwell as of late. I read aloud each of you letters to her as she rested, and it brought her much comfort, but she bid me not to reply until she recovered. And the rising of the Sun seems to have greatly helped with her health as she is now almost back to herself, save the grief. Indeed, since she is now out of danger, I can tell you that the pain of losing father and my siblings in such a short time caused mother to nearly fade. And for much time I feared her fate would be that of Míriel and she would join the Broidress in the gardens of Lórien. But I thank the Valar that the new light lifted the darkness weighting over her fëa and she is now as well as she can be.
Mother is already feeling so well that, in a few weeks time as we count them now, she will journey to the gardens of Lórien to enter the tutelage of Estë for she is wary of the company of Elves, even her own family.
It saddens me to know I will not see her as often but the mere idea of learning the arts of healing makes Indis glow in a way I have not seen in far too many years, and I would never begrudge my own mother solace and a happier future after so much loss.
Yet, I am loath to admit I will feel lonely in Valmar without her. Uncle Ingwë’s family would welcome me readily, and I love them dearly, but, despite my temper and my efforts, I fear I am far too much of a Noldo to find a place in Valmar. I miss discussing poetry and linguistics at Tirion’s university far too much… Arafinwë would certainly find me some role in Tirion but I find myself faring so much better far from the matters of the court that I will go to him only as a last resort should I fail to find myself a purpose.
But enough talking of me! Tell me, my friend, how did you fare all those long years of Darkness and what are your plans for the future now that there is light again? And most importantly, do you have anyone to support you in your own grief?
Yours truly,
Findis Finwiel
***
Dear Findis,
I am relived to hear of Indis, though it saddens me to learn she has been ill for such a long time and that she dwells far from you now. I live in my father’s halls since before the Darkening, and I am glad to have my parents near me to lessen somewhat the loss of my sons. I confess I still find myself torn between anger and grief when I think about them and thus tend to work until I collapse. Only then I am free of the memories. But you must think me maudlin, dear Findis, and maybe even ungrateful for what I have. The newly risen Sun has done much to lift my mood already but I still find myself lonely. Perhaps, sharing our troubles may help?
Whatever is your answer, my friend, know there will always be a friendly ear and room room for you in Mahtan’s Halls.
Send my regards and well wishes to Indis, and may she find hope and joy under the tutelage of Estë.
Friendly yours,
Nerdanel Mahtaniel
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Our girls Findis and Írimë!
I missed @finweanladiesweek 😭
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House of Finwë ~
Finwë - Miriel - Indis - Findis - Lalwen
// prints!
fëanorians: 1 - 2 - 3
nolofinwëans: 1 - 2 - 3
arafinwëans: 1 - 2 - 3
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We are all just Finwës (when i first got into silm i didn’t even know he had daughters)
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Nerdanel is ambitious
*The children of Finwe (and their spouses) are playing a team sport*
Fingolfin: Are you upset you don’t get to be on the same team as Nerdanel?
Feanor: Have you ever played a game with Nerdanel?
Fingolfin: No…
Feanor: Have you ever been trapped in a cage with a wolverine?
*Meanwhile, on the other side of the field*
Nerdanel, chasing Finarfin: I SAID FASTER! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE WORD “FASTER” MEANS? IT MEANS MORE FAST!!!!
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There must have been some moments in which they weren't fighting all the time.
Fëanor reading to his siblings, some sort of fictional story. Fingolfin is obviously a big fan of the hero, while Irimë loves the villian (maybe a bit too much, Fëanor thinks). The little interventions on the scroll are also hers. Findis is very unimpressed about the whole thing. Finarfin is just hungry, and probably deciding whether to chew on the scroll or Fëanor's arm or hair.
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My Headcanon Crafts for Finwe and his Children
Finwe: a woodcarver, he likes really intricate geometric patterns. Carved most of the furniture in his house. Occasionally experiments with larger statue work. One of his favorites is a large bear; which he made for Orome's halls. He also carved cribs for each of his kids.
Feanor: a smith. One of the things that makes him special is that he's one of a few elvish smiths who can actually make gemstones. For all that later generations will remember him for his swords and Silmarils, most of his work was in fine jewelry and more modest Feanorian gemstone lamps.
Findis: a writer, and a very good one, but most of her work remains unpublished. She can be just as possessive of her secrets as Feanor, and for elves, words absolutely have power. There's a mountain of paper in her home, and she doesn't really know what to do with it.
Fingolfin: a glass worker, who specializes in stained-glass windows. The things he creates are beautiful, especially with the light filtering through them, but they're also fragile. Some of his favorite works are Feanorian lamp gemstones he surrounded with a mosaic of colored glass. (They're some of Feanor's favorites too, but both of them would rather die than admit it)
Lalwen: a cartographer. She traveled almost every inch of Beleriand, and her maps are still some of the best remnants of the sunken continent in the Third Age. Always drew sea monsters on her maps as a matter of principle.
Finarfin: a baker. It's very nontraditional for a Noldor craft– it's more typical of the Vanyar, but he insists that food can be art as much as anything else. He measures everything out by feel, and it tastes great every time. His kids all have fond memories of baking crepes with him.
Headcanon Crafts for the House of Feanor, the House of Fingolfin, the House of Finarfin, and the rest of the House of Finwe.
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Hey guess what, I’ve just realized that Findis and Lotho Sackville-Baggins have something in common
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Can I request chubby Indis?
Certainty! Here is the golden mama 😌✨ and her smol beans!
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Lalwen caught everyone's attention by slamming a fresh wine bottle onto the center of the table.
"Alright, new game," she said. "'The Worst Thing I Ever Did To You Was...' It's like The Worst Thing I Ever Did, but it has to be specifically to someone else in this room, and you have to apologize for it. And you only get to drink if everyone else agrees that your apology was good enough."
Fingolfin raised one finger. "Point of order: what if you need to be drunker in order to apologize for something?" He didn't look at Fëanor, but his gaze was sliding around a bit, so in order to achieve this, he turned his entire head to the right.
"Tough luck," said Lalwen.
"Point of order," said Findis. "What if we don't want to play this one, either?"
"Then you have to sit here and endure it without getting to drink any more. Because - " Lalwen forestalled Fëanor's imminent query - "the door is still locked and no one is leaving until Family Game Night is over."
The boys all radiated rebellious pedantry, probably still not over how she'd lied to get them all here. But they didn't say anything, so Lalwen smiled brightly and said, "Great! I'll do an example to show you how it's done."
She retook her own chair, wobbling only a little as she moved from standing to sitting, leaned toward her youngest brother and said earnestly, "Ara, I'm sorry that I lied to you that Gil-galad was Fingon's son and your foster-great-grandson. It was politically expedient but essentially an orc move, and mostly I just did it because I was bitter at you for swanning in with all your golden armor and righteousness and optimism, when we had none of any of that. That was wrong of me. Also, obviously it fell apart as soon as he and his parents were all re-embodied."
Fëanor still had half a glass of wine from the now-lost bottle. He'd started slipping it slowly while glaring pointedly at Lalwen, to prove that he didn't need her stupid game.
He nearly spit it out.
"That's why a random half-blood became High King of the Noldor?" he demanded. "You just lied that he was part of the House of Finwë? And nobody challenged it?"
Lalwen was laughing too hard to answer. Findis was also laughing, more quietly.
"To be fair," Fingolfin offered, swallowing his own snicker in favor of loftiness, "from what the elf himself has told me, at the start of the Second Age, Galadriel, Elrond, and Celebrimbor between them could have crowned an unwoken tree High King if they'd all agreed on a candidate. Support from each of our lines, you know."
"Fëanor, how did you think Gil-galad became High King?" Finarfin asked curiously.
"I hadn't thought about it much - I've been busy, you know. I suppose I assumed he'd been elected, as we do now."
Fëanor tipped his head back to drain his glass, then rather slammed it down on the table. Yet again, the jewel-grade goblets proved themselves the right choice for the evening.
Lalwen could barely breathe for laughing. "No Noldor on either side of the Sea did that until nearly the end of the Second Age!"
Fëanor scowled.
Findis smiled serenely, and twisted the top off the new wine bottle. A melodious scent swelled forth of sweet grapes, bruised peaches, and warm summer sun.
"Well, that seems well-apologized to me." She refilled Lalwen's glass - though she paused before handing it back, and asked, "Ara?"
Finarfin nodded grandly, and for good measure took Lalwen's hand and kissed it. "We are well-reconciled, sister, and have been for many years."
"Good, good, gimme!" said Lalwen, grabbing at her well-deserved wine. "Ahh..." The Yavannandil wine was soft and soothing against her laughter-dried throat.
When she'd downed a good third of the glass, she gestured broadly and declared, "There! You see how it's done! Your turn!"
She pointed to Fëanor, then jabbed her finger at his chest. "And you're not allowed to say 'burning the ships', that's too easy."
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Young Laurefindele|Glorfindel in Valinor with his mother Findis
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the children of finwe 🌟
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The last three I only found out about a few days ago sooooo...
Reblogs would be greatly appreciated!!
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They just wanted to be like their big brother...
Fingolfin: *holding a salt packet, trying to sound like Feanor* It’s just a little sodium chloride.
Findis, holding baby Finarfin: Actually Fingolfin, it’s salt.
Irime, in her best Feanor voice: That’s what he said, sister, sodium chloride.
Findis, visibly annoyed: Uh Irime, that would be salt.
Feanor, walking into the room, pissed: *takes salt packet from Fingolfin* This is iodized table salt, which in addition to sodium chloride contains anti-caking agents and potassium iodate, which is added to prevent iodine deficiency. So not only are you being overly pretentious, you are factually wrong. Your arrogance is your downfall, you annoying little shit.
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Something small while I chug away at commissions. Findis needs some more love. Fëanorand Fingolfin who???
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