Month: November 2014

Oh the Three, the Three… did I really do all that? It was so very long ago, I can hardly remember! I was not as I am now: In those days I was mad with grief and power, and I wore a body subject to strange whims. But that was ages ago. I can hardly harm a fly, now.

poppybrownlock:

misbehavingmaiar:

poppybrownlock-deactivated20150:

“But if you were given the chance, would you do such things again?” Poppy asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

The Shadow exhaled a breathy laugh and set large ethereal hands on the halfling’s shoulders.

“It’s hardly a question of would. I cannot! And why would I choose to, even I could? There are no great powers left in the Middle Realm that might tempt me, and I have no kingdom of my own left to defend. Such bloody deeds are the product of grand ambitions, vengeance, and survival… Wouldn’t you say I am beyond such things now? What should an old, toppled shade like myself do, except eke out his days until the End in peace?” 

"If all that you say is true,” Poppy began, biting at her bottom lip. “And you only wish to exist in peace now until your days end…then why is it that everyone warns me against you, and says you intend to use me for some nefarious purpose? If you were truly harmless, would they not realize such and leave me be?”

“Ah, not everyone is as wise nor as forgiving as you are, sweet flower…”  The Shadow retreated somewhat with a bow. “And many of the elder races have long histories, wherein my name is passed down as a warning. Elves especially are not wont to forgive old crimes… their fear and hatred of me will be long in the forgetting. But you!”  One long finger curled under Poppy’s chin. “You are young, and generous, and understanding. You are not bitter with inherited woes, or timeless sorrow. That is what makes you so precious, little one… You are different. Your heart is bigger than your stature.” 

Oh the Three, the Three… did I really do all that? It was so very long ago, I can hardly remember! I was not as I am now: In those days I was mad with grief and power, and I wore a body subject to strange whims. But that was ages ago. I can hardly harm a fly, now.

poppybrownlock-deactivated20150:

“But if you were given the chance, would you do such things again?” Poppy asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

The Shadow exhaled a breathy laugh and set large ethereal hands on the halfling’s shoulders.

“It’s hardly a question of would. I cannot! And why would I choose to, even I could? There are no great powers left in the Middle Realm that might tempt me, and I have no kingdom of my own left to defend. Such bloody deeds are the product of grand ambitions, vengeance, and survival… Wouldn’t you say I am beyond such things now? What should an old, toppled shade like myself do, except eke out his days until the End in peace?" 

tarionanarore:

vefanyar:

theotherwesley:

thebreathofarda:

misbehavingmaiar:

vorchenzas:

oh no

not even gonna remotely pretend like this isn’t my jam

|| my limited knowledge of Swedish doesn’t allow me to understand this German song PLEASE SOMEONE GIVE ME THE LYRICS WITH TRANSLATION I FELL IN LOVE WITH THIS SONG AND NEED TO KNOW WHAT IT SAYS

also am I the only one who imagines all the Vanyar singing this in a huge choir while dancing around trees and bonfires?

YES EXACTLY 

Here’s the German text. Can someone understand the Quenya?

Eine Stimme spricht, eine Sehnsucht wächst
A voice is speaking, a longing is growing

Von der Nacht berührt und vom Mond geweckt
Touched by the night and woken by the moon

Die Erinnerung an ein fernes Glück
The memory of a far-off joy

Hinterm Horizont führt der Weg zurück
Behind the horizon the path leads back

Chorus

Diese Welt zerbricht, hol uns fort von hier
This world is breaking (apart), take us away from here

Unser Volk ist weit, unsere Kraft bei dir
Our people are far away, our power [lies with] you

Deine Bucht umschließt das Gelobte Land
Your Bay encloses the Blessed Realm [more literally: Promised Land, but she is singing about Valinor, so…]

Was an Hoffnung bleibt ist von dir gesandt
What hope remains was sent by you

Chorus

Eine Stimme spricht und ein Wind kommt auf
A voice is speaking, a wind is springing up

So das Schicksal will führt der Weg nach Haus
If fate wills it, the path will lead home

Quenya

Naira Eär, naira Eär, Endor lestalmë, Eldamar!
Naira Eär, naira Eär, tanna lutta nu i Menelmacar
Naira Eär, naira Eär, Endor lestalmë, Eldamar!
Naira Eär, naira Eär, telda ranta ló i menya lenda

Ela Eldamar – Elo!
Ela Eldamar – Elo!
Ela Eldamar – Elo!
Síra an Elerína

Translation

Boundless ocean, boundless ocean, we leave Middle-earth, Eldamar!
Boundless ocean, boundless ocean, there we sail under Menelmacar
Boundless ocean, boundless ocean, we leave Middle-earth, Eldamar!
Boundless ocean, boundless ocean, the last part of our journey

See, Eldamar – Oh!
See, Eldamar – Oh!
See, Eldamar – Oh!
This day to Elerína

Amended from here.

*casually sings in shower* 

crocordile:

heckofabecca:

Eöl’s mother, for the readalong.

#in my mind the avari are much more genetically diverse than the elda r#and also like the teleri tend to be more androgynous than say the noldor or the vanya r#but anyway this one is a bit of a mix between how i see the eldar #darker skin like a noldo r#face shape rather like a vanyar as well as those creep eye s#and then silver hair like the teleri

YO, THOSE HEADCANONS AND ALSO THIS BABE 

Source: heckofabecca

gonedolin:

imindhowwelayinjune:

I’ve been thinking a lot about Celegorm lately. Not Celegorm the handsome, sometimes charming, often crude rogue who teases his brothers and alarms the genteel, but Celegorm in Beleriand, Celegorm the terrifying.

Celegorm the Fair, dripping in blood. Celegorm all the more frightening because he can seem so jovial, and laugh so brightly. He who you do not believe could be subtle, as he stalks through the halls with a pack of jubilant dogs at his side, he who drinks hard and laughs loud and does not temper his voice – but who walks with absolutely silent tread, who comes up on you unawares, whom you do not sense until his breath is on the back of your neck.

They all have stories of Celegorm the Hunter, Celegorm the Wild, Celegorm the Mad. 

Once, on a hunt, his bow broke, and his knife was lost, and so he tore the hart’s throat out with his bare hands.

That’s nothing; I saw him do it with his teeth.

Ai, wait until you’ve seen him do the same in battle…

Celegorm who needs nought but hands and teeth and fear to hunt, whether his prey is a rabbit, or a deer, or an orc, or a man.

Or an elf.

They whisper of the rites he performs in the woods, when he returns with dried blood crusted under his nails and his eyes bright and burning. He still burns the offerings of the old world, and whispers fey prayers in an ancient tongue, and they shiver, and say he is invoking his old friend, the Huntsman.

But he is of the Seven Dispossessed, the Irreverent, they who recognize no gods, no over-lords, no Valar…

It is not homage. It is respect. 

It is habit.

It is not worship.

(It is worship, a little.)

Do you think the Huntsman still hears him?

Well, has he ever missed a kill?

He hasn’t.

Celegorm the Fey, who whispers dark things in the ears of picketed horses and laughs to see them pull up their lines and flee.

He likes his fun, says his brother, the crafty one, the shade of the Spirit of Fire, his eyes like flint and his tone dismissive. Pay it no heed. (It is not a suggestion, but a command.)

Celegorm the Damned, who fears nothing in the dark forest, for there is nothing more terrifying than he. Celegorm the Blood-Soaked, Celegorm the Merciless, Celegorm who paints himself with blood for battle, who tattoos thorns beneath his skin, who dresses his pale hair with pretty beads, made of bone; brilliant gems, grinning death-heads.

Celegorm the Fair, aye, fair indeed. Fairest of the monsters. 

oathsayer

All of this. 

beguilingblackness:

fantasticwaffle:

Some lady!sauron lady!mairon for beguilingblackness. I was just going to do mine… but I love quel!sauron so much.

I am really busy IRL, so if I don’t get to your requests I’m sorry! 

misbehavingmaiar whatever will catch fire next?

probably my house 

fantasticwaffle:

Random mini Feanorian headcanons

 Feanor likes flowers so much that he constantly has them in his forge. People would assume his wife put them there but, no, he did.

 Maedhros used to tie his hair back in ribbons until he found Fingon crying about how other kids would laugh at his unruly hair. He took the ribbons from his own hair and tied Fingon’s. He hasn’t worn ribbons since.

 Maglor has horrible handwriting. Only Maedhros, Celegorm and later, Galadriel could read anything he wrote, unless he purposefully tried to make it legible.

 Someone once suggested that the only way Celegorm could have blond hair was if his mother had slept with his uncle. After knocking them out cold, Celegorm tried dyeing his hair black, successfully turning it purple for a very long time.

 Caranthir is the shortest member of his family, so all of his shoes have very slight heels. He’s also deathly afraid of bees.

 Curufin is a master of organized chaos. His work space may look like a mess, but he has it memorized and will kill anyone who messes with it.

 Amrod likes to have things in his hands. He’ll pick something up, fidget with it for a minute, put it in his pocket, forget about it, and eventually end up with a pile of trinkets he can’t explain sitting on a shelf in his room.

 Amras is an incredibly picky eater, due to the fact that his brothers always ate the food he didn’t want to eat, mostly to just stop him from complaining about how he didn’t want to eat it. He’s also an amazing cook.

 Nerdanel is a very active person, and constantly has to be moving (a trait she shares with both Maglor and Amrod) she would often go running in the mornings or evenings, and sometimes her husband would join her.

DEATHLY AFRAID OF BEES

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