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silvantransthranduiltrash · 6 months

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Ngl, obsessed with the idea that the questers know that legolas is, if not thousands of years, then centuries old, but it not regestering until he mentions having met their ancestor or a historical figure to them. It doesn’t help that legolas looks like a teenager.

Just like that scene with eowyn realizing aragorn is a legit grandpa but with legolas and the rest of the walkers instead.

Legolas: i never had the pleasure of having a conversation with the man, but from the brief glimpses of (insert boromir’s ancestor from 1000 years ago here) that i saw, he was an honorable man.

Boromir, bluescreening: yes, he was known as quite the chivalrous man. But for you to have met him you must be at least a thousand years old!

Legolas: *clicks tongue and doesn’t say anything with an amused smile*

Aragorn, who has gone through all these emotions already: older.

Gimli: Older?? Are you telling me that this beardless, pointy elf with a face of a teenager is, what? 2000?

Aragorn: more.

Gimli: MORE???

Merry: if he is close to 3000 years than he was probably born around the last war for the ring!

Legolas, enjoying this all immensely: i was old enough to fight in it actually.

Pippin: alright, so legolas is 3000 and a few centuries. That’s a lot older than i thought to be honest. He looked like the youngest elf in rivendale.

Legolas: i’m 4000, actually.

Gimli: GODDAMN IT! I knew we shouldn’t trust these babyfaced point ears! You can’t even tell their age!

Legolas: if it makes you feel better, other elves also have a hard time discerning the age of silvans. They’ve routinely thought of mine to be millenia younger that we actually are.

Boromir, having an existential crisis: what the fuck

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myceliumelium · 4 months

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I feel like the third age mirkwood elves deserve some more human inspired looks. I think they deserve to have made good friends with lake town and the dale folk before them.

#art #silmarillion #tolkien #the hobbit #mirkwood #greenwood the great #elves #silvans #lotr elves #thell's ocs

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majestictolkienelves · 5 months

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Aragorn: do you really think you'll be physically able to do that?

Legolas: do silvans fuck in the forest?

#i just like the idea of that being a phrase #lotr #tolkien #lord of the rings #legolas #incorrect quotes #incorrect lord if the rings quotes #incorrect legolas quotes #aragorn #mirkwood #sylvan elves #silvans #silvan elves

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spruceneedles · 4 months

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Arondir

#myart #spruceart #drawing #tolkien fanart #tolkien #tolkien stuff #my drawings #lotr trop #lotr rings of power #lotr rop #lord of the rings: the rings of power #lotr elves #the rings of power #rings of power #elves #silvans #arondir

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fingerthenoldoelf · 7 months

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and here's young adult Oropher

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arofili · 2 years

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@tolkienofcolourweek day six | multicultural identities ● migration ● time | the sundering of the teleri

The Nelyar were the third clan of the elves, the largest and most fractured. A third refused the Journey west to Aman, and along with half the Tatyar became known as the Avari. The remaining two-thirds of the Nelyar were the last and slowest host of the Eldar (those who embarked upon the Journey), and were named by the others the Teleri, the Last, though they called themselves the Lindar or Lindai, the Singers.

Though all the Minyar-Vanyar and Tatyar-Noldor who took the Journey arrived in Aman, the Lindar were greatly sundered along the way. In the fertile vales of the river Anduin, many Lindar abandoned the Journey and remained there under the leadership of Lenwë, known also as Dan or Denweg. These were named by the other hosts the Nandor, those who went back, but they saw themselves as closer kindred to the Avari, and in time would merge with the Penni tribe into one people, the Tawarwaith or Silvan elves, dwelling mostly in the forests of Eryn Galen and Lórinand.

The Lindar who marched onward were sundered again upon crossing the Blue Mountains into Beleriand. There a group of them forsook the Journey and traveled northward to the grey lands of Hithlum, and became known as the Mithrim, the grey folk. The rest of the Lindar lingered in Beleriand, some waiting by the shores of the sea to be taken to Aman and others exploring the vast forests. It was at this time that their king, Elwë, was lost in the wood of Nan Elmoth, and could not be found. Many of his folk searched for him, and when it came time for the Lindar to leave, they would not go for love of him.

Thus Olwë brother of Elwë took kingship of his people and took those who would across the sea to the Blessed Lands. These were the shore-dwellers, who boarded Tol Eressëa the Lonely Isle and sailed across the waters; but Ossë, Maia of Ulmo, loved them jealously, and broke off a small piece of the island near Beleriand’s shores, leaving many of them stranded from their kin. These Ossë taught to build and sail ships, and they returned to Beleriand under the leadership of Círdan the shipwright, though they mourned their separation from their departed kin. Tol Eressëa did not return again, and thus those Lindar who remained called themselves the Egladhrim, the Forsaken, for the Valar and their kindred had abandoned them to the wilds of Middle-earth. Those who made it at last to Valinor became known as the Falmari, the people of the waves, for they dwelt ever by the shores of the sea.

The Egladhrim were further divided into two groups: the Falathrim, the folk of the waves, who like their kin the Falmari made their home along the coast, though on the opposite shore; and those who remained faithful to Elwë, who at last emerged from Nan Elmoth and took the name Elu Thingol. Slowly the language of the Lindar of Beleriand changed, and they called themselves the Edhil, people of the stars, whether they were Mithrim or Falathrim or Elurim. In this time also Denethor son of Lenwë who had stayed by the Anduin took a group of his father’s people into Beleriand, calling themselves the Laikwendi or Laegrim, and settled in Ossiriand in the shadows of the Blue Mountains.

When the Dark Rider returned and attacked the Edhil, Denethor was slain in battle upon the lonely hill of Amon Ereb, and his people fled back to Ossiriand, taking no other king and fighting no other wars. He was avenged by Thingol, and a small portion of the Laikwendi chose to follow him back to Menegroth, his city of caverns; ever after they were known as the Guest-elves, for they were yet a people apart from the Elurim. At this time Melian, wife of Elu and a Maia of great power, brought up a Girdle about the forests of central Beleriand, and the realm within it was called Doriath, the Land of the Fence, and its people were named the Iathrim, the folk of the fence.

Later, when the Noldor would return to Middle-earth in exile, the Lindar of Beleriand would be called in their tongue the Sindar, the Grey-elves, which in their own tongue was Thinnedhil. But to themselves they were always the Edhil, divided into Mithrim and Falathrim and Iathrim and Laegrim; and Elu Thingol claimed kingship over them all, though many found greater friendship in the Noldor than with him.

[transcript of image text & graphic flowchart of the Sundering beneath the cut]

A full image description is available in alt text. Below is a transcript of the text in each image.

~

Falmari: Folk of the Waves. Those of the Teleri who followed Olwë, brother of Elwë, and came to the shores of Beleriand and traveled upon the Tol Eressëa across the Great Sea. The Falmari settled upon the shores of Aman, where they founded Alqualondë, the Swan-haven.

Sindar: the Grey-elves. Those of the Teleri who reached Beleriand under the leadership of Elwë, but did not reach Aman. For love of Middle-earth, or for their King, they remained in the East. In their tongue they called themselves the Edhil, but the exiled Noldor called them the Sindar.

Mithrim: the Grey Folk. Those of the Sindar who moved northward and settled in Hithlum around the Lake Mithrim. They were closest to the Noldorin exiles and unfriends of the Iathrim, who spoke a different dialect of their language, Edhellen.

Egladhrim: the Forsaken. Those of the Sindar who remained in Beleriand for love of Elwë their vanished King, rather than following his brother Olwë to Aman. This group also included those Sindar who came to the travelling island, but were left behind when the Isle of Balar broke off, and were not returned for.

Falathrim: Folk of the Waves. Those of the Egladhrim who would have gone to Aman had not their part of Tol Eressëa broken off and become the Isle of Balar, leaving them stranded near Beleriand. The Falathrim were led by Círdan the Shipwright, and were beloved of Ossë.

Iathrim: Folk of the Fence. Those of the Egladhrim who remained in Beleriand for the sake of their King, Elwë Singollo, who vanished before the Teleri were able to cross to Aman. When Elwë finally re-emerged with his Maia wife, Melian, he took the name Elu Thingol and established the Hidden Kingdom of Doriath, Land of the Fence.

Nandor: Those Who Went Back. Those of the Teleri who, upon reaching the fair vales of the river Anduin, forsook the Great Journey. Their first leader was Lenwë, known also as Dan or Denweg, but as their numbers grew they spread out and took other lords and kings.

Silvans: Folk of the Forest. Those of the Nandor who remained in the Vales of Anduin and the surrounding territory. The SIlvan elves mainly dwelt in Lórinand and the Greenwood, and were close in kinship to the Penni Avari.

Laikwendi: the Green-elves. Those of the Nandor who, under the leadership of Denethor son of Denweg, came to Beleriand later than the rest of their Telerin kindred. After Denethor's death in the First Battle of Beleriand, they took no other King, though some small portion of their people moved to Doriath and became known to the Iathrim as the Guest-elves.

~

SUNDERING OF THE ELVES: A GRAPHIC FLOWCHART

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chicotfp · 3 months

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Version without scar is here:

#thranduil #elrond #lee pace #hugo weaving #the hobbit #lotr #lord of the rings #elves #photomanipulation #after silvan elves were slaughtered and Oropher's death

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meluiloth · 23 days

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Let's talk about Thranduil (and the Mirkwood Elves)

The Woodland Elves are well known for being a suspicious and reclusive people, Thranduil most of all - but they are also as merry and light-hearted as the other Elven civilizations when it comes to their own people.

So I want to talk about why that is, why Thranduil is so determined to remain isolated. The reason is actually pretty simple: he lost everything in the War of the Last Alliance.

The army of Greenwood joined forces with the Elves and Men against Mordor, though their army was smallest and their people less skilled with open war, led by Oropher, Thranduil's father. Thranduil himself was there as well (and though not much is known about his wife, I headcanon her as fighting alongside her husband and her people).

The Free Peoples won that war, but with a heavy cost - and the Silvan Elves suffered greatest of all. They lost two-thirds of their army and their King, and returned to Greenwood crippled and mourning. (I headcanon that's when Thranduil lost his wife, too). The Prince of Greenwood had to take the burden of the crown while his people were suffering and while his home was rapidly falling into decay, along with struggling through the grief of losing his father (and his wife).

To my knowledge, there is nothing in the lore about the Silvan Elves receiving help from their allies, so I assume that they were left to rebuild alone, and also to contend with the Necromancer who had taken up residence in their home, and who they were not strong enough to exorcize themselves. They were even forced to take refuge underground, which hurt their woodland and tree-loving souls.

Thranduil was alone. Of course he would become bitter and reclusive, wanting to focus on helping his own people while resenting the fact that, though they had sacrificed so much, no one came to their aid. He decided that he would lend no more aid, make no more sacrifices, and suffer no more losses on account of those who would not return the favor. That was the end of that.

And really, who can blame him?

#lord of the rings #Mirkwood #Thranduil #thranduil's wife #headcanons #the silmarillion #Oropher #silvan elves #Mirkwood elves

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mathias-anthony08 · 1 month

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#jamie silvan

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growingingreenwood · 1 year

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Random headcanon that the other elvish realms think that the Greenwood Elves have SOME-FUCKING-HOW developed **significantly** superior hearing compared to the rest of the elvish cultures/races. When I say 'significantly' I mean so significantly that it genuinely scares them a little bit.

A lot a bit.

It seems to them that the Greenwood Elves are capable of hearing and understanding even whispered conversations from MILES AND MILES AND MILES AWAY. Even when the distance is so great elvish eyes cannot even see a dark spec on the horizon, Greenwood Elves can still successfully eavesdrop on what is happening.

The other realms have, of course, come up with many of their own theories as to why and how they're capable of such things. Including but not limited to: Evolution that happened after most of the Noldor left for Valinor to help them survive the Dark Scary Times, a permanent enchantment of Melians that can be genetically passed down to one's offspring, an Extremely Elaborate Lie, a side effect of one of the plants that they eat, a sign that they've made a deal with Melkor to be his spies (this theory is banned from being openly spoken about in Imladris, if it is, you get 1 single warning before Elrond yeets you out of the valley his damn self. You are not welcome back for at least 100 years, and you have to apologize before you're allowed back in.)

There is, of course, an incredibly simple and straightforward reason for this perceived 'super-hearing' which is: The elves don't hear things, the trees do and just relay the information (or at least the gist or important bits) back to the elves. They can hear what you say from 1000 miles away because there's trees literally everywhere.

But since the other realms don't speak to/with the trees in the same capacity as the Greenwood Elves, the thought that this is possible literally never occurs to them. And the Greenwood Elves think the entire situation is too funny to ever explain it.

#tolkien #tolkien headcanons #greenwood #mirkwood #lotr #greenwood headcanons #silvan elves #silvan elf headcanons #haleighs greenwood #the silmarillion

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r0sa4077 · 2 months

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Legolas Greenleaf - The Lord of the Rings

#lord of the rings #the lord of the rings #lotr #legolas #legolas greenleaf #mirkwood #wood elf #elf #fantasy #books #tolkien #jrr tolkien #silvan #sindarin #the fellowship of the ring #the two towers #the return of the king #aesthetic #moodboard

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silvantransthranduiltrash · 7 months

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What most elves thinks it’s like talking to the trees:

Silvan: mighty oak tree, is there some trouble of which you would like to warn us?

Tree: no, my kind silvan. There is no darkness of which that can cause you harm.

What a silvan talking to a tree is actually like:

Legolas, cackling, landing on a tree branch: babe, you’ll never believe what happened!

Tree, lighting up and shaking their leaves: Legolas, my good bitch! I got news!

#lord of the rings #silmarillion #lotr #the hobbit #lotr elves #thranduil #legolas #mirkwood #greenwood the great #silvans #talking to trees #trees are gossips and the silvans regularly have bitch sessions with them #incorrect lotr quotes #incorrect tolkien quotes #oropher

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sotwk · 1 month

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The Baker from Lórien (Haldir gen ficlet)

Summary: A visitor from Lórien brings some excitement to the kitchens of the Elvenking's palace.

Word count: 1.1k

Content: Pure fluffy randomness, mother-son relationship, toddler Legolas

Rating: General (no warnings apply)

To Read on AO3: Link

A/N: I wrote this ficlet purely on a whim; I had no plans or strategy for it going in. It could be nonsense, or I could be onto something. XD It's most likely going to stay a random SotWK AU one-shot, but who knows. I pretty much just wanted to finally write any story featuring Haldir, whom I love dearly and firmly believe was one of the most desired bachelors east of the Mountains. Special thanks to my friend @creativity-of-death who inspired the concept of a Baker Haldir long ago!

Headcanons about Haldir in the SotWK AU: Any questions you might have about the background history in this fic would be answered HERE.

The Baker from Lórien

Third Age 246 Spring

Bar Lasgalen, the Palace of the Elvenking

“Down and forward, turn, and fold over. Repeat. Remember to use the heel of your hand--this part, right here.”

The lump of dough felt pleasantly squishy in Legolas’s hands, and only with great self-restraint did the four-year-old elfling manage to resist playing with it like modeling clay, instead of following his instructor’s example. With eyes narrowed in determined concentration, he watched the steadily working hands of the elf across the table from him. After just a minute or so of observation, he began to mimic the brisk kneading motion.

“Yes, good! That is very good.” The visitor from Lórien seemed pleased, albeit surprised, by how quickly the child caught on.

Legolas beamed at the ellon’s praise, and held the smooth ball of dough up high over his head in triumph. “Is it ready for the oven now?”

“Not quite.” The silver-haired ellon took the dough from Legolas and checked it with a few expert prods of his fingers. “It needs time to rest and rise. An hour at least, although up to three is much better, and then we can reshape it into loaves. Then it must rest again, before it can be baked.”

“Three hours?!” Legolas exclaimed, already dismissive of whatever other steps came after. “Does bread really take that long to make every time?”

“The loaves should be fresh and hot out of the oven just in time for your Highness’s breakfast.” Legolas watched as his dough ball was placed into a large pan next to five others and covered with a dish cloth.

“And a delicious breakfast is best preceded by a sound night’s sleep, is it not?” The voice that came from the kitchen doorway made Legolas scramble off his stool. He smiled sheepishly at his nursemaid, Ninniel, as she entered with a knowing smile and firm shake of her head for him.

The older ellon spoke up. “My apologies, Emmë. I should have realized the hour was too late.”

“It’s all right. It appears some valuable learning has been accomplished here, at least.” Ninniel took in the rather comical sight of her grown son towering next to her not-at-all-grown charge, both of them dusted in flour, and felt all her exasperation melt away. She dipped a tea towel into the washing basin and set to work wiping the sticky residue off Legolas’s fingers.

“Will you come and get me when my loaf is finished baking, Halidr?”

“Well…” Haldir of Lórien glanced hesitantly at his mother. He was still unsure what to make of Thranduil’s sons, who all behaved without any regard or perhaps even awareness of their social rank. Legolas, in particular, had been unabashed in his fascination with Haldir ever since his arrival at Bar Lasgalen. Today was merely the first day of a month-long, overdue visit to his parents, and most of it had passed with the little prince turning up wherever Haldir happened to be, armed with a constant stream of questions. “It really is not my place to--”

“When your bread comes out of the oven, I will wake you to come and have it for breakfast, with me and Haldir,” Ninniel interjected smoothly. “But the sooner you get to bed, the sooner you can rise refreshed for a new day, yes?”

“That sounds excellent!” Legolas threw his hands up, and wriggled his hips in a little sort of dance. “I shall be back in a few hours, Haldir! Please take care of my bread!” he called out to the bemused elf before bounding out the door.

“Are you still finding everything all right, dearest?” Ninniel swept a light hand over her son’s broad back. In one touch she could tell Haldir was fairly relaxed, as she had hoped he would gradually become. Her eldest had always been the most serious of her children, and his nature only grew graver as the ages passed and the memories of hard years weighed on him. It had been far too long since his last visit to Eryn Galen, so rarely could he be persuaded to leave his post at the March, and Ninniel hoped the brief holiday away would be restful for his spirit.

“Yes, everyone here at the palace has been… quite attentive.” Haldir smiled and planted a swift kiss over his mother’s hair. “The prince’s arrival sent them scurrying off, I fear, but I do not think he seemed to mind or notice.”

Ninniel shook her head. “The only thing they were running from was their own embarrassment,” she said. “I will let you return to your work, my love. Legolas and I will be back soon.”

And indeed, as soon as she exited the kitchen, she encountered the gaggle of young kitchen maids waiting in the hall, preparing to re-enter now that the royal Highness had left and gone to bed.

“Lady Ninniel,” they curtsied to her, appearing only mildly abashed by her witness to their obvious intentions. But this was a small phenomenon Ninniel had grown accustomed to over the years, for it became clear early on that her handsome son elicited rather strong reactions from elleths, often without any encouragement.

“My lady, if we may…” one of the girls blurted out. “We were wondering… that is, we wanted to make certain… do you know whether or not Lord Haldir…”

“He is not a lord, and he would not appreciate being addressed as one,” Ninniel corrected gently. “And as far as I know, he is not engaged, involved, or taken with anyone at present.” She gazed at the line of hopeful faces and pressed her lips to smother a chuckle. “Any of you are welcome to try and draw his interest, if that is your wish.”

But best of luck, indeed. Ninniel sighed as she departed, leaving the sounds of pitchy giggling behind her as the pack descended on her oblivious son. Whether there was any chance of a maiden in all of the Woodland Realm catching Haldir of Lórien’s eye, much less his elusive heart, she did not know. That hope had certainly not borne any fruit in over a thousand years of matchmaking attempts. But any diversion, any added source of joy outside of his work, his books, or his baking, could only be a good thing.

Anything beyond that--dare say a betrothal, a marriage, or even a new precious grandchild--was something Ninniel was prepared to be completely surprised with. But a mother will always hope.

For more SotWK Fanfiction: Fanfiction Masterlist

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