*silm

elveswearbuttlessonsies asked:

Hello dearie! Would you mind writing me something cute involving Maglor (if you still take requests!)?? I love your blog and you seem so lovely!xx

H O L Y  S H I T  you have a request??? omgomgomg no-one sends me requests, I love you *_* also thankyou, I love your blog too!! :D

Alright, fangirling over:

First of all check out my ao3, there is a bittersweet fix-it one-shot focused on Mags and Nerdanel, and the latest chapter of my main fic has a cute Maglor moment too :)

Second of all:

The notes that drifted on the wind seemed almost to echo the golden-silver of the sky at that time when the Trees shone out both together. Makalaurë rested on a tree-root, toes dipping down into the stream below and dark curls tumbling about his shoulders as he delicately plucked the strings of his small harp. His eyes were closed as he sang, and those who listened felt transported, as if visions of flowers and great climbing trees surrounded them in truth. For he sang of Yavanna’s gardens, and the very grass below seemed to rejoice in the song.

Above him, perched in the higher branches of the tree and listening in wonder, were Ambarussa. The twins were yet children, young and free and rejoicing in the land of their birth - and in the wondrous skills of their brothers, whose like they felt they could never equal. But they had something better than skill - they had each other.

Maglor looked up and smiled at them through the branches as he finished the song.

“Ambarussa, come down!” The voice belonged to Maitimo, who now came hurrying up through the shallow stream with bare feet and wet clothes (and a thin golden ribbon trailing unnoticed from his belt).

“Why should we?” Makalaurë was not sure who had spoken; it generally did not matter.

“It is too high - what if you should fall?”

The twins laughed, clear and high, and Makalaurë laughed with them.

“Come, Nelyo, forget your brotherly cares for one day!” He plucked out a sweet few notes, and smiled at his brother’s conflicted expression. “You may lay every bit of blame on me, if our dear Ambarussa should fall into this lovely stream.” The melody changed then to mimic the sound of the water, gentle and flowing smooth about the four of them as they stood there under the fresh, living trees in the light of Valinor. Maitimo smiled, and sat down on the opposite bank.

“Alright. But you must play for us again, if only to keep them from wriggling this poor tree into the ground.”

“Most certainly.”

As the first pure notes of the next song drifted through the leaves, time seemed to slow to nothing. Beauty and stillness and light, there was, and it could never fade or come to harm.

Years later, Maglor remembered that day under the tree, and the memory stung worse than his tears.

~~~

I hope that was okay!! I’m sorry it’s not longer; I’ve written almost a whole chapter of my main fic today and the writing part of my poor brain is rather tired. Also, feel free to message me any time if you’re comfortable with tumblr’s messaging system - I love to talk to people on here, especially about these poor damned Elves!

6

Celebrimbor // ‘Hand of Silver’, son of Curufin, who remained in Nargothrond when his father was expelled. In the Second Age greatest of the smiths of Eregion; maker of the Three Rings of the Elves; slain by Sauron.

Middle Earth Meme: 3 DEATHS
1) The Fall of Fingolfin

But at the last the King grew weary, and Morgoth bore down his shield upon him. Thrice he was crushed to his knees, and thrice arose again and bore up his broken shield and stricken helm. But the earth was all rent and pitted about him, and he stumbled and fell backward before the feet of Morgoth; and Morgoth set his left foot upon his neck, and the weight of it was like a fallen hill. Yet with his last and desperate stroke Fingolfin hewed the foot with Ringil, and the blood gashed forth black and smoking and filled the pits of Grond.

Thus died Fingolfin, High King of the Noldor, most proud and valiant of the Elven-kings of old. The Orcs made no boast of that duel at the gate; neither do the Elves sing of it, for their sorrow is too deep. Yet the tale of it is remembered still, for Thorondor King of Eagles brought the tidings to Gondolin, and to Hithlum afar off. And Morgoth took the body of the Elven-king and broke it, and would cast it to his wolves; but Thorondor came hasting from his eyrie among the peaks of the Crissaegrim, and he stooped upon Morgoth and marred his face. The rushing of the wings of Thorondor was like the noise of the winds of Manwë, and he seized the body in his mighty talons, and soaring suddenly above the darts of the Orcs he bore the King away. And he laid him upon a mountain-top that looked from the north upon the hidden valley of Gondolin; and Turgon coming built a high cairn over his father. No Orc dared ever after to pass over the mount of Fingolfin or draw nigh his tomb, until the doom of Gondolin was come and treachery was born among his kin. Morgoth went ever halt of one foot after that day, and the pain of his wounds could not be healed; and in his face was the scar that Thorondor made.

- Of the Ruin of Beleriand and the Fall of Fingolfin, Quenta Silmarillion

Middle Earth Meme: 2 VILLAINS
1) Morgoth 

Last of all is set the name of Melkor, He who arises in Might. But that name he has forfeited; and the Noldor, who among the Elves suffered most from his malice, will not utter it, and they name him Morgoth, the Dark Enemy of the World. Great might was given to him by Ilúvatar, and he was coeval with Manwë. In the powers and knowledge of all the other Valar he had part, but he turned them to evil purposes, and squandered his strength in violence and tyranny. For he coveted Arda and all that was in it, desiring the kingship of Manwë and dominion over the realms of his peers.

From splendour he fell through arrogance to contempt for all things save himself, a spirit wasteful and pitiless. Understanding he turned to subtlety in perverting to his own will all that he would use, until he became a liar without shame. He began with the desire of Light, but when he could not possess it for himself alone, he descended through fire and wrath into a great burning, down into Darkness. And darkness he used most in his evil works upon Arda, and filled it with fear for all living things.

- Of the Enemies, The Valaquenta

8

Nirnaeth Arnoediad ~ The Battle of Unnumbered Tears [F.A. 472]

’(…) Some have said that even then the Eldar might have won the day, had all their hosts proved faithful. For the Orcs wavered, and their onslaught was stayed, and already some were turning to flight. But even as the vanguard of Maedhros came upon the Orcs, Morgoth loosed his last strength, and Angband was emptied. There came wolves, and wolfriders, and there came Balrogs, and dragons, and Glaurung father of dragons. The strength and terror of the Great Worm were now great indeed, and Elves and Men withered before him.’

Middle Earth Meme: 2 3 VILLAINS
3) Sauron

Among those of [Melkor’s] servants that have names the greatest was that spirit whom the Eldar called Sauron, or Gorthaur the Cruel. In his beginning he was of the Maiar of Aulë, and he remained mighty in the lore of that people. In all the deeds of Melkor the Morgoth upon Arda, in his vast works and in the deceits of his cunning, Sauron had a part, and was only less evil than his master in that for long he served another and not himself. But in after years he rose like a shadow of Morgoth and a ghost of his malice, and walked behind him on the same ruinous path down into the Void

- Of the Enemies, The Valaquenta