it's done dammit

3

PAY THE MAN 

S.H.C.

DOING IT FOR THE MONEY

so i’m gonna need like 9000 more pictures of this buff nerd in a floral pink waist/tailcoat combo kthxbai

FeanorianWeek Day #4

·         Day 4- Caranthir - > Childhood, Betrayal, Lordship, Dwarves & Humans, Marriage, Appearance

 “You are a great champion of Men, are you not?” Maedhros does not even look up at him as he speaks, instead focusing on the papers strewn across his vast oak desk. Caranthir would suspect a deliberate slight if he did not know how utterly real – and really intolerable – his eldest brother’s concentration is.

Not to mention that if Maedhros glances up too quickly, his eyes look wrong in the light. And Caranthir has gone for his sword, instinctively, more than once.

 Maedhros takes care not to look at him much anymore.

But: “I am not,” Caranthir settles for saying. “I know nothing of Men, save Haleth and her kin.” 

If Curufin were here, he would make some snide remark about how well Caranthir must know Haleth. If Celegorm were here, he would laugh uproariously, jostling Caranthir in obvious collusion with his favored younger brother. If Maglor were here, he would toss up his hands and exclaim that he is done with the lot of them. If the Ambarussa were – well.

 But Caranthir’s brothers are not here, instead scattered to the corners of Beleriand on their own futile errands. And that is only if not dead, and doomed, and gone beyond reach…

“But you know them,” Maedhros says absently. “You have had dealings with them recently.” 

“Forty years ago!” Caranthir exclaims.

“As Arien goes, yes?” Maedhros waves a dismissive hand. “So, recently. And since when have you followed such a count of years, brother?”

Since we have lost any sense of how else time might be reckoned, Caranthir wants to say. Since the Trees that I barely remember and you cannot recall much better withered and died, and we are left at the mercy of Maiar and meteorology.

Since I realized I had no other option.  

Aloud, though, he only scoffs. “Since I first learned how, that is when, and by that accounting, forty years is a long time.”

“If so you claim,” Maedhros says, forgetting his company enough for long enough to look up. He must mean to show his skepticism but all Caranthir can see is the orc

 blood-red slit-eye monster-kind kin-killer

until, realizing his mistake – or the white-knuckled grip that Caranthir is keeping to the hilt at his side – Maedhros ducks his head back to his papers with a grunt.

 “But I will not believe, not for a heartbeat, that one of the Noldor can fall so far from our roots that he would actually hold to time kept by the Sun, of all things.”

 It matters not whether you believe it, and Caranthir knows this with all the surety of his bones. For we are all none of us the Noldor – the Eldar – the creatures – we once thought we were.  

 Aloud, though, he only scoffs, and idly wonders if this is the way that all their dealings must go from this day forward.

“Believe what you must to keep yourself functioning. And tell me more about this Ulfang you wish me to grant land in Lothlann.”

I can’t believe Noctyx is a thing… Noctnyx? Nyxnoct? Caelric? Ulricaelum?

4

He spoke, blazing with fire, and his lovely waters were seething.

And as a cauldron that is propped over a great fire boils up

dancing on its whole circle with dry sticks burning beneath it …

so Xanthos’ lovely streams were burned with the fire, and the water was boiling

strongly blown by resourceful Hephaistos.

The last of the pieces for my “Beyond the Trojan War” final depicting scenes from Homer’s Iliad.

I wanted to draw the battle between Xanthos and Hephaestus with Achilles trying to cross on dead bodies, since my prof described it the first lecture back in January! Plus bonus Aeneas being chucked to safety by Poseidon! (and a crane because I had a bird theme going in the other two and its one of Hephaestus’ sacred birds and it looked more impressive than a quail, to be honest) 

Achilles // Helen // Xanthos