The Six Types of Middle-Earth Names

1. Characters whose Names are Secretly Insults: 

Samwise: means “Half-wise” or “Half-wit.” He is Stupid Gamgee

Faramir: Boromir’s name means “steadfast jewel”, but Faramir’s name just means “sufficient jewel.”


Denethor took one look at baby Faramir and thought “eh I guess he exists or whatever” which is very in character

 2. Characters who Have Way Too Many Names

Examples include Aragorn son of Arathorn son of Arador heir of Isildur Elendil’s son, descendant of Numenor,  Thorongill,  Eagle of the Star,  Dúnadan, Strider,  Wingfoot, Longshanks, Elessar, Edhelharn, Elfstone, Estel (”Hope,”) The Chieftain of the Dúnedain, King of the West, High King of Gondor and Arnor, and Envinyatar the Renewer of the House of Telcontar

Wait I’m sorry did I say “examples” plural

Cuz that was all one guy

3. Characters whose parents must’ve been prophets

-Frodo means “wise by experience.” His story is about becoming wise by experience
-A lady named Elwing turns into a bird (geddit)

4. Characters whose families were so lazy that they copy-pasted the same first half of a name onto multiple people

Éomer/ Éomund/Éowyn/Éorl
Elladan/Elrohir/Elrond/Elros/Elwing/Elenwë/Elendil/Eldarion (the laziest family) 

5.Characters whose Names are Expertly Designed so that Newbies can’t Remember Who is Who and Feel Sad

All the people mentioned in number 4
Celeborn, Celegorm, Celebrimbor, Celebrian
All the rhyming dwarf names in the Hobbit
Sauron and Saruman
Arwen and Éowyn

6. Name so nice, you say it twice

Legoas Greenleaf: Legolas’s first name means “Greenleaf” in elvish. Legolas is Greenleaf Greenleaf (thranduil really likes green leaves ok)

King Théoden’s name means King in Rohirric. Tolkien decided to name his king “King.” All hail King King

 this is what the fanbase means when we say tolkien was a creative genius with language

Often, the twins forget that they are not directly related to the Sons of Feanor.

Elros is the first to forget, often attributing his tall height to his “father’s” gene (he thinks little of Thingol or Turgon). He also checks his hair in the mirror, periodically, to see if bright red strands have grown in.

Elrond says his voice belongs to Maglor. He’ll drag the Feanorian’s old, dusty harp out into the yard, sit on a broken bench, and sing for all to hear. He gets compliments, and when he’s asked where his beautiful voice comes from—Luthien never once comes to mind—he attributes it to Maglor.

Elrond waste no time in telling the children and travelers—his small audience—who’ve gathered around him of the renowned singing voice of his father, who can be heard through all the lands.

In those moments, Elrond doesn’t care if he’s half Sindar, he owes little allegiance to the ones who left him anyway. He doesn’t care that Daeron, his own kin, is said to be the best minstrel of all the elves, for Maglor will always be the best to Elrond.

When the brothers fight like devils on the battlefield, long after Maedhros is dead and Maglor has been forgotten (except by the twins, of course), and their pears attribute their skill to their birth father in the sky, they scoff.

“You mean Maedhros, right?” Elros will say smugly, “Our father taught us nothing.”

When Elrond treats his twins as if are made of glass, Celebrian often asks if he learned such tenderness from his mother.

“She hugged the Silmaril tighter to her breast than she ever did my brother or me, if there was any love  to be given, it was to the jewel,” Elrond responds bluntly,  “I learned my tenderness from Maglor.” He and Celebrian laugh as he recalls a tale in which Maglor broke the wood from his harp to make them cribs (the harp which Elrond mended in his adulthood).

Later, Celebrian sings the twins to sleep with tales of a mighty singer from the West, and no longer does she sing of flying gulls and sky boats.

Elrond leaves subtle hints around his house, making it impossible for those who know him to ignore who he was raised by. Tiny stars, emphasize on music and healing, acceptance, second chances.

He claims his birth family publicly to avoid scorn, but in his heart knows who he belongs too.

He isn’t as brave as Elros, Elros who adopted Quenya for the brothers, who chose humanity for Maedhros, who became the king that Maedhros was meant to be (and that Maedhros wanted him to be).

But Elros was always like Maedhros, bold and blunt. Elrond is like Maglor, soft and subtle. They were their sons after all.

(In the end they forget nothing really. They know who they were born of, but they know who loved them as well. So they claimed the Feanorians as their parents, because in the end, that’s who and what they were)

Silmarillion thoughts:

NO BUT IMAGINE MAGLOR TEACHING ELROND AND ELROS “If You’re Happy and You Know it Clap Your Hands” AND MAEDHROS IS JUST LIKE, “Screw you, Maglor,” IN THE BACKGROUND!!!!!!!!!!!!!

anonymous asked:

🔥 like, elrond? Tell me about elrond

While I don’t remember if I said it myself, I believe my reblogs and tags have indicated my opinion that Tolkien’s wording as well as basic extrapolation strongly suggests Elrond closely identified with his Numenorean kin, but lemme try for something more actually contrary:

This is a prime example of how funny a thing fanon is, but when I read the Silm I was totally insulated from all fandom input and so my ideas about Elrond and Elros as a set of twins wound up very different from fanon. Like, there’s this idea of Elrond being very scholarly and quiet and reserved and unadventurous, especially in contrast to Elros. Which I did not pick up on in isolation at all because, what stuck out to me about Elrond when I read LOTR as a kid was his…ridiculous level of bluntness about how difficult or dangerous something will be or how much is riding on it (I was SO AMUSED at that bit where he’s just, to Aragorn, “lol if you don’t succeed everyone is doomed no pressure!!11”) And that thing where he was simultaneously like gently, “there’s no reasonable way this is ever gonna work” and “we absolutely have to do this” which I didn’t really have the framework to talk about until I read the Athrabeth, but which still struck me very strongly.

And then in the Silm, there’s that idea of, well Elrond became a loremaster, while Elros became a king. But, I imagined, post-apocalyptic loremastery with no stable institutions would be like, exploring this strange ME to collect or write down the lore and stories and history from unknown peoples or from the survivors of Beleriand; whereas Numenor is similar in its unexplored newness but is this specially prepared hallowed peaceful island, and I thought, the first king of such a place would be a visionary, a planner, a builder - a dreamer even! And I guess, it’s often mentioned that Elrond is a healer? But I barely remembered this because he’s not mentioned as a healer until the 3rd Age, whereas Elros…well, one of my first thoughts about Elros was to flash back to the first time I read ROTK, and that line “the hands of the King are the hands of a healer,” where I was like, “since when?” And once I wrapped my head around who Elros was, I was like “oh! since then?”

And in just stitching things together, I was reminded of that ridiculawesome Mary Sue description from the Hobbit: “He was as noble and as fair in face as an elf-lord, as strong as a warrior, as wise as a wizard, as venerable as a king of dwarves, and as kind as summer.” So many different things, and so much overreaching – to live two lives even, or at least, to live one immortal life to the brim! And I feel like, especially given that his choice to become immortal means being separated from Elros by death forever, there’s a strong element of, “what’s the point of being immortal if I don’t take advantage of having all the time in the world?” And so my impression of younger!Elrond was the guy who is like, learn ALL THE THINGS! Become immortal in order to have all the time to do all the things and see all the things, because the world is so great and there’s so much of it…

Ofc this is Tolkien so everyone goes to hell and there’s a ton of war and really, chilling in a green valley and innkeeping is the A+ life, though also over the ages, it becomes more desperate, “what was the point of becoming immortal if I don’t use it” regarding Sauron and the rings, and the Akallabeth, and the Dunedain. But also…there’s this impression in fandom, and a bit in the text too, that Elros was like, an ideal human? Or, no, not the ideal in the sense of being better than other humans, but having an ideal appreciation of human mortality because he chose it freely. I love that, and I think the same would apply to Elrond, for elves. There’s that other description of him in LOTR: “in his face was the memory of many things both glad and sorrowful.” And…isn’t that close to the ideal for immortality? The focus is usually on how immortality sucks because of all the endless inescapable sorrow, but immortality also means unlimited opportunities for gladness and glad times if you can keep them in your memory, like he apparently has. Those fifteen chieftains! The line “both the sweet and the bitter” is applied to choosing mortality in LOTR, but it applies to immortality just as well.

But anyway, the point is, 2nd age Elrond, literally the most carpe diem of elves! Even though he has unlimited…diems…to…carp…I don’t speak latin at all guys.

As Elrond and Elros grow , they use humor to cope with their abandonment. It was a tip they learned from Maedhros.
As children, their mother leaving them had been a sore spot and every seagull they spotted flying in the air was another harsh reminder of their sad reality—that she didn’t want them.

As young elflings, the pain had been agonizing, they felt unwanted and unloved, and any trigger of their mother usually sent them into a silent fit where they closed themselves off from the world. Not even Maglor could get to them.

As they aged, however, they decided to stop being upset. Their mother’s neglect of them was a fact that would never go away. Their very presence in the house of the Feanorians was quite evident of that, it was a reminder. Everything was a reminder. So what was the point of being in a constant state of sadness?

Eventually the twins turn to humor to cope ( the idea, courtesy of Maedhros, who occasionally made jokes about his missing hand and gruesome scars in order to entertain them as children).  

They sugarcoat nothing, joking about their tragic lives whenever they get the chance. 

“You’re still here Maedhros?” Elros asks after a rather horrific skirmish with orcs, “The fighting was incredibly bloody and dangerous, and as the trusted leader of these men Elrond and I expected you to run and jump at the nearest cliff you managed to see.” The men (Nor Maedhros) didn’t  know whether or not it was appropriate to laugh at such awful satire, though found themselves chucking when the twins burst into a fit giggles of at the same time.

 Once they joke in the market, when Maglor is drawn to a particularly gleaming gem.

“It almost looks like a Silmaril, doesn’t it Elros?” Elrond gestures towards the stone, garnering his father’s attention at the name, “Quickly now, let’s avert father’s attention before he takes it and leaves us here in the market to fend for ourselves.”

Maglor chastises them that evening for their inappropriate humor, to which they reply, “Maedhros jokes about his missing hand all the time! Why is it a crime for us to joke about things that make us sad?”

“You’re not Maedhros”, Maglor corrects, then adds, “and it hasn’t helped him much!”

“But it has! He still hurts, yes, but he makes the best of it!”

“And laughing helps him! He isn’t sad when he looks at his hand anymore, he’s happy.”

 And Maglor can’t really argue with that. Not when the arrival of the twins has seen his own brother use his torment as a source of jokes (he remembers Maedhros’s “Elros, can you give me a hand? Because clearly, I’m missing one).

So Maglor permits it, keeping his mouth closed no matter his actual feelings towards it.

They have a tendency to sit and wait for the brothers as they hunt, often laying down and looking at the sky.

“Evening fathers,” Elrond addresses, “You had been gone for an hours more than usual. Elros and I here were looking at the sky wondering just what kind of bird you’d turn into, we saw three seagulls and since they tend to be typically good at abandoning their children, we figured that was you. But it we are pleased to see that it is not!”

 Eventually, Maglor finds himself joining the twins as well, though his jokes are never as specific as the theirs, nor personal as Maedhros. Though regardless it helps the twins cope, and essentially that’s all Maglor wants.

 It never eradicates their pain, their feelings of being unloved or unwanted, just like it never erases what happened to Maedhros. It makes it bearable though, and really that’s all they need.

tbh i had more hcs planned but i’ve been so busy that i just slapped this together, enjoy :D 

Since the fostering of Elrond and Elros, Maglor has made it habit of standing beside the sea shore when the twins are either napping, or kept to themselves in their rooms. He baits seagulls to his feet with his voice, singing beautifully in order to get their attention. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

Though getting them to stay beside him is not his main objective. Collecting their feathers, however, is.

He has heard the twins speak about their mother, heard them cry at their abandonment, and wonder aloud when she would return to them. It physically hurts Maglor. While the minstrel has never been abandoned by his parents, he can understand their sorrow  to some extent. When the Valar turned their backs on the Noldor, Maglor was crushed.

He cannot begin to imagine how such an insult fairs with the children— especially when the main culprit is there mother.

So he does what he can to help, starting with a bag full of seagull feathers.

As the twins sleep, he places them beside their beds, under their pillows, and on the floors.

In the morning, he can’t contain his smile when they run to him with white feathers in their hands

“She visited us, see!” They cry with joy, “She hasn’t forgotten about us! She’ll come for us soon!”

Other nights, Maglor will arrange the feathers into a trail towards the sea, so that Elrond and Elros will follow it to the shore come morning. There they are met with toys and trinkets, some from Sirion (or as close as Maglor could buy), and others of Noldor design—courtesy of  their father in the sky (though really, it’s all Maglor).

“Always follow the trail young ones! And one day, your mother will come to you as a gull, and she will take you to your father in the sky,” he says it, almost certain at the time. And why wouldn’t she come, they are her children after all.

Keep reading

Imagine Elrond and Elros cutting off Maedhros’s hair for magical purposes.

Being the only redheaded elf that they’ve seen, the twins believe his hair to be other worldy. And Maedhros being from Valinor only fuels their theory. Not to mention, Maglor’s own tall-tales about his elder brother’s hair incites the twin’s excitement.

“Bury it in the ground, and trees will spring from the earth. They will be tall and strong, like those from Valinor!”

The twins have always been obsessed with the Feanorian’s tales of Valinor, and to hear that they could have a piece of it simply by burying their father’s hair surprises them. So needless to say, they cut his hair off as he sleeps.

They don’t do a very good job at it, and leave it uneven and choppy, and in some places, quite bald. It is a nasty shock to Maedhros when he wakes up the next morning to find his hair missing. He knows who to hunt for, immediately, and doesn’t have to go far when he sees Elrond and Elros putting his hair in the ground and pouring water on top of the soil.

“Maglor says that your hair is magical, and that if we plant it in the ground we will grow trees from Valinor!”

His anger for the twins evaporates, and mentally goes through 100 scenarios as to how he can make Maglor pay.

“You know boys, Maglor’s hair is magical as well. If you cut it off and weave it into bracelets, you will sing just as well as him when you wear it.”

It’s safe to say that Maedhros gets his revenge the next morning.