a very quick sketch of The Bird Lady [Elwing] done with the single colour-pencil I found in the bottom of my bag on an overnight train from hell, drawn for @spring-into-arda Back to Middle Earth Month Basketball Championship for ✨ Team Idril ✨ for the prompt “Connection” + some fun prose I couldn’t resist
Dislikes: ‘Daddy’ Finarfin, Cats, Trousers, the United States of America, Bankers, Cops, Intact Kneecaps [list too long to compute]
Tolerates: Elrond
Origin: Prayers to Broken Stone (sorry)
Fun Fact: “the last time a religious fundamentalist attempted to organise a communal riot in Kozhikode, Comrade Maedhros had knocked on his door, politely introduced himself, and then dutifully delivered such a remarkable beating that it was said Cochin Medical School sent in a busload of students to study said fundamentalist’s recovery, because the thrashing had broken bones most people hadn’t actually heard of.”
“Nobody will ever know what it is like for them. The Valar tell nobody of it. But Elwing and Maedhros fall into this strange, unnatural rhythm. Sometimes it feels like they are laying down and longing to die. Other times, it is all that keeps them alive. Each night, the moon climbs the trees, an aloof observer. The two of them begin uncurling out from themselves and into each other like pressed-together seeds in the cold earth. An unasked-for hybridisation.”
thought today’s sickbed sketch was cute enough to share, so enjoy desert island frenemies-with-benefits Elwing and Maedhros, as seen in my fic The Island Dwellers where they explore each other’s bodies for the sole purpose of fucking with the Valar 😇
"Bilbo had assumed accusing an elven lord of Tookishness in his own house would result in swift decapitation and not a decades-long camaraderie that both parties truly cherished, but it seemed that in this regard too, the Lord of Imladris defied expectation."
The Peculiar and the Deranged: Moments between Bilbo Baggins, Elrond Peredhel, and the most unprecedented friendship in Middle-Earth, under the cut!
(aka this friendship wasn’t leaving my mind so I wrote this on my phone and drew this with the 3 pencils I had on a train because I’m incapable of being normal about anything)
on Bilbo's first visit to Imladris, featuring Estel's pet snake:
"You had a rat?" Bilbo blinked, hoping Elrond wouldn't notice the snake he was glaring at had initially been curled around his own neck. "Sir."
"I did not have a rat," corrected Elrond imperiously, looking every bit the lord of the valley. "I would never have a rat, I do not approve of rats. My daughter had a rat. Lothinvar, it was called, the bane of my household. Until this terrible creature wormed its way in. The snake that is, not the child, though Estel is not in my good books at the moment either."
on the return journey, after the death of Thorin Oakenshield:
"What can I do? How can I ever move past this?" Bilbo asked quietly, unsure why exactly he was pouring his heart out to a being six thousand years older than him, who must have faced far greater sorrows.
"Grief," Elrond replied, staring intently at him, "tricks you into thinking it’s all you have left. As though if you let it go, even for a moment, you betray him. You hold onto relics like lifelines, thinking what else is there to keep Thorin alive in your mind? It is a lonely life, Bilbo. It will turn you into the loneliest person in the world."
"Is there no way out?" he gasped, looking up at the elf.
"Start small. A smile, perhaps, when you think of a joke he made," Elrond said steadily, like he was reciting a recipe. “And then, try telling someone about him. Perhaps you could tell me. Something new each time you visit, perhaps.”
“You say it like you have experience of it, sir,” ventured Bilbo. “Like you know it by-heart. Did you get past it?”
“I did,” Elrond’s voice was confident, too confident. Bilbo chose not to probe.
"Thorin's nephews?" Elrond asked later, after Bilbo had gathered himself together, mopped himself up. "They were slain too? Both?"
"Yes, both."
"That is good," Elrond had said with a blank, intense smile etched into his features. "That it was both at once."
"What?" Bilbo sat up in shock, spluttering. "Good? What is wrong with you?"
"Were they not twins? Thorin's nephews I recall were twins, no?"
"Brothers. But what difference does that make? What do you mean good? I beg your pardon, my lord, that's an unhinged thing to say!"
"Oh. I am sorry, Bilbo," Elrond shook his head, the awful, blank expression still on his face. "I am sorry, I spoke without thinking. It is only that I had thought they were twins. Do forgive me, I misunderstood, and spoke out of turn."
"Don't worry," Bilbo sighed, finding to his own surprise that he could manage a laugh. "With names like Fili and Kili, it's frankly a surprise they aren't."
He still thought it was a rather unhinged thing for Elrond to say, but, well — Bilbo Baggins had always been fond of the peculiar and the deranged.
on a visit to the Shire, sharing burnt scones
"Cel was — is — remarkable. She had an exceptional appetite for burnt bread: she would go into the kitchens and instruct the staff to deliberately burn sweetbreads, just because she loved the crunch, apparently."
"She sounds like a Shire lass through and through."
Elrond laughed, shaking his head: "I am certain had I brought her to visit, she would never leave. Though she is not made for the rustic life. A total terror of any creature on four legs. The first time I spotted her she was in a garden, standing on the bench screaming, because she had seen an enormous beetle scuttling around the grass."
"Oh, so it was a damsel in distress situation, eh?"
"Quite the contrary," he admitted. "She threw a pair of gardening scissors right at my head, and called me utterly disgusting for the crime of allowing beetles to exist on my property, and threatened to cut off my hair with the same scissors if she ever came across another one. And mind you, this is Celeborn's daughter, and that soul would have married an Ent if Galadriel hadn't come around."
"Well, that truly is a surprise! Did she not even like dear Arwen's little rat?"
"Oh, you remember the rat!" Elrond's eyes shone, genuinely delighted. "If I remember right, she paid our boys to get rid of it and told Arwen she had sent it to, well, your people."
"I will be certain to invent an illustrious Shire-based family tree for the rat, if your Arwen ever gets around to asking."
on a Yule visit, when Bilbo forwent self-preservation, featuring the same snake:
"Oh, it was not I who named the snake after the Mariner, it was my… other father."
"That's impressive, sir. Quite bohemian."
"One would wish," Elrond muttered darkly, pouring himself more wine, as if all the talk of snakes had driven him to drink. "Estel is friendly with Maglor, who along with Maedhros, raised my brother and I. And I had banned all talk of pet snakes until Maglor showed up last year with a present for Estel: his very own snake named Gil-Estel, which they both insist has nothing to do with the Mariner and is simply a play on the child's name. Which I would have believed, if Maglor did not also own a remarkably ugly cat named Thingol."
"When they say you are Half-Elven, Lord Elrond," Bilbo blurted out, after a short, surprised silence. "Do they mean the other half is merely mortal man, or…?"
"Yes, the other half does indeed refer to mortal men," blinked Elrond in surprise, looking something other than perfectly composed for the very first time. "Do you… suspect otherwise?"
"Oh, I was certain there was a bit of Hobbit somewhere. Just your life, you know, your family, all of it," he waved his hands about the valley. "It's a little… well, Tookish."
"What in the world is a Took?"
on a midnight wander in Minas Tirith on the morning of Aragorn’s wedding to Arwen
When Bilbo came across the figure sat on the steps, he was ridiculously old and his memory even more ridiculously ragged, so he didn’t know why it was that he thought, reflexively, it will turn you into the loneliest person in the world. He didn't say a word though, only reached out a hand and sat beside the figure. Elrond didn’t say a word, only grasped the offered fingers so tightly Bilbo's knuckles turned white, held on as he shook. When it passed, he looked away and apologised, sniffing. "Forgive me, my friend, I do not mean to get melancholic, especially not on a day of such joy. I —"
Bilbo cut across him, too old to deal with the elvish tendency to be completely insufferable.
“How did you get past it the last time? With your brother?”
"I have one of the longest memories in this land, yet I cannot truly remember this one thing," the elf smiled bitterly, tapping his nails on the stone steps. "I slept, I think. A lot. I shrunk out of the world until the sheer pain of it no longer clawed at me. But I cannot do that, Bilbo. Now, I have duties, responsibilities. I have kings to oversee, a valley to hand over and a people for whom I must keep up something of a brave face. There is no longer any room for the small death I was permitted last time."
Elrond sighed. "You must think I am terribly privileged, or that I have too grandiose an idea about my place in this world."
"No, I was just thinking how unfair it is," said Bilbo quietly. "So unfair that for you there is a last time and now a this time."
Elrond, in tears again, was looking at him with an almost obscene gratefulness, as if Bilbo had done him some enormous kindness and not something any friend would do, looked at him in a way that made the hobbit think again, inexplicably, the loneliest person in the world.
“I’m sorry,” said the lord, catching his friend’s expression. “You should not be h-“
"Shut up," Bilbo huffed, looking truly offended, rolling his eyes. "You're insufferable, do you know that? Stop acting like you've jumped off a damned cliff before my eyes, Elrond. I'm starting to think elven history would have been a lot less bloody and tragic had more of you — and I mean that Fëanor, mainly, but the rest of you too — appreciated the value of a good cry. Emotional constipation is just as bad as the real thing, you know. And you can be sure I'll tell old Fëanor that to his face when I see him."
Elrond blinked, then laughed. "Oh, Bilbo, I am glad you found your way back to Imladris this year, I truly am."
"And I, in turn,” Bilbo found himself saying, cursing the fact that his memory decided to make its wondrous reappearance that night. “Am equally glad our mutual friend Aragorn tried to bribe me to put his pet snake in your office that very first day."
on a ship in the sundering seas, far too early
"Suffering from a spot of morning sickness, are we?"
"My apologies, Bilbo," Elrond stumbled back into Bilbo's cabin from the privy, looking only slightly less green than he had when he left it. "Please do not make any sudden movements."
"I am only pleased that you and I are now such intimate friends that you feel comfortable enough to throw up your breakfast in my bathroom. Maybe you should come around and do it every morning to wake me up, like the world’s most useless cockerel."
"It was not by choice, as you very well know," Elrond muttered, downing a swig of ground herbs and honey from a bottle in his pocket. "My mortal heritage does, unfortunately, mean there are some weaknesses to the constitution. Perhaps this is why it was Elros who took ship for Numenor and not I."
"Well, that, and you couldn't resist micromanaging six thousand years of Middle-Earth now, could you?" chortled Bilbo, settling down in a plush chair and laying his walking stick by his side. "Mortality is all well and good, but heaven forbid you lose a chance to develop domestic policy over the continental grain trade. Besides, and I don't want to be the one who brings it up, but…"
"Elbereth, what now?"
"Your father was known as the Mariner, you know," Bilbo snorted. "As in, the seafaring sort, no? It would truly be such a shame if someone were to… write a poem about the mis-inheritance of seasi—"
"Write that poem, Bilbo Baggins, and I will personally petition Ulmo to turn you into seaweed."
in the house of Elrond in Aman, with the chattiest woman Bilbo has ever encountered (which is saying something)
"I only burned that layer because you made me do it, mind you. You really are as remarkable as he said you were," Bilbo blurted out as she picked out pink sugared biscuits with a dark crust that he knew to be from burning. He had even spread jam on them for a second layer of sweetness. "Mad and irritating, to be frank, but remarkable. I am truly glad to know you, Celebrìan — not as Elrond's wife, but, well."
He gestured at her weakly, meant the peculiar and the deranged. She understood.
"Yes, I do pity all the folk that know me as Elrond's dead wife," she wrinkled her nose, sitting down by him and grabbing a second burnt biscuit. "And considering my poor husband's approach to grieving, and all the laments Lindir said he's made him compose, that is what most end up knowing me as. It is quite a pity, I am as you say, delightful. Oh, Bilbo, this is amazing! So wonderful, I didn't think pastries could be this sweet!”
"No, not when your cheapskate of a husband is in charge of the rations," he said in a carrying whisper. "In the Shire though, we know how to live."
"Who are we referring to as a cheapskate then?"
"The elf who implemented a sugar tax in his valley," said Celebrian dryly. "You may know him. Have a biscuit!"
"I would truly rather nail myself to the birch," he said dryly, picking up a piece of bread. "I do not get the logic behind oversweetening victuals. Impractical, unnecessary."
"Oh," Celebrían clapped her hands to her mouth. "Of course! The Lord Elrond grew up amidst the War of Wrath! Surely, he has not mentioned that to you, has he? He never does!"
"Ah, that he was raised in military conditions by a couple of kinslayers?" chuckled Bilbo. "No, not at all. Not once. He certainly never brought it up in our first ever conversation. Should we ask him to expand?"
B2MEM @spring-into-arda Match 8 - Team Idril - Prompt “Endurance” featuring Elwing transforming back to her human form after her long flight oversea — another sketch done on public transportation because I forgot the deadline, this time, a bus on a ferry with my lonely red gel pen 🥲
Note the hair, it’s meant to be an array of feathers — i wanted to do a full body sketch but being on a bus doesn’t leave you much room for detail so I contented myself with a headshot only.
Today’s @spring-into-arda B2MEM offering — first in a series of “children in conflict” sketches across the legendarium, this one featuring Baby Elwing in a refugee column outside Doriath with her little plaits and the Nauglamir necklace with the Silmaril (worn around her shoulders as it won’t fit her neck 🥲)
Team Idril | Prompt: “from the ashes…” | Game 1 | Bic ballpoint + green/red marker — funnily enough, first time drawing with a Bic and it was fun, if tricky…
I thought I brought my actual sketchbook with all my unfinished drawings on this trip so I could finish up my Celegorm portrait for C&C week, but accidentally ended up bringing my scrap paper book.
Which does not contain my Celegorm portrait or any of my actual work, and in fact only has a single drawing in it: this rough sketch I did 3 months ago when Mr Balls asked me “what animal would Elrond be if Elrond was an animal?”
no i do not know what animal this is supposed to be. i am not very good at drawing animals. if it helps, iirc i googled references for “sad wet fox” and “small nervous dog”, and made them fuck in my mind’s eye.
