#bluthien

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

thingol and beren parallelism of hearing the song of a woman from an older more powerful race, falling into instant inescapable love with her and fathering a child -- your one and only child -- with a heritage unheard of ever before or ever since; and then years later watching powerless as that child runs into a larger and more turbulent fate than you ever hoped they would have to endure

also dad jokes

[arofili]

Second Chances

He wakes in Valinor, and at first he thinks he is reborn. But he remembers dying fresh as his own undried blood, and he does not remember his soul flying to Mandos. And outside, the Two Trees shine. Something is wrong.

for @tolkientimewarp Day 4: Out of Time! a Finrod time travel fix-it, originally started as a gift for @oopsbirdficced for @innumerable-stars 2022, I'm really glad I had a chance to finally finish it :)

Rating: T | Creator Chose Not To Warn Relationships: Finrod/Amárië, Finrod & Turgon, Finrod/Bëor, Finrod & Maeglin, Finrod & Galadriel, Beren/Lúthien, Finrod & Thingol Characters: Finrod, Amárië, Turgon, Bëor, Maeglin, Aredhel, Galadriel, Beren, Lúthien, Thingol Word count: 2.3k

READ IT ON AO3!

[serene-faerie]

Canon Mortal/Elf couples as aesthetics:

Andreth/Aegnor— a pale sunrise over the mountains, reading a well-loved book beneath a maple tree, long braided hair, autumn leaves, beaded jewelry, the golden hour, a tranquil lake, kissing the freckles of one's face, silver courtly robes, earth-coloured dresses, morning horse rides, shy smiles, the ache of nostalgia, herbal tea, writing love poems, campfire stories, forget-me-nots, flickering candles, red robins, the smell of cinnamon, a bowl of mushroom soup, amber gemstones, the taste of lingonberries, bittersweet memories, tears of regret, parting ways but never letting go.

Beren/Lúthien— hot summer nights, dancing barefoot in a glade, daisies, gentle warrior hands, sweet blackberries, fiery sunsets, flower petals caught in strands of hair, stubble tickling smooth cheeks, fireflies lighting up the night, stars that glitter like diamonds, crystal clear waters, shimmering skin, dark-green capes, flowing blue gowns, kisses upon fingertips, nightingales, blue butterflies, strolls through the forest, the sound of rushing rivers, the smell of lilacs, undying loyalty and love, the pale blue dawn, a crackling campfire, silver jewelry, emeralds, always keeping promises, a life of peace and bliss together.

Tuor/Idril— baroque architecture, eyes as blue as the ocean, braided golden hair, white doves, grandiose fountains, sparkling white towers, the smell of rosewater, grand baths with petals in the water, citrus trees, stolen kisses in flower gardens, an instant connection, rich silks, gold jewelry, blue summer skies, a shining city, snow-capped mountains, chandeliers of crystal and gold, sunlight filtering through stained glass, high ceilings, marble floors, the warmth of falling in love, romantic paintings, pink roses, rebuilding a broken home together, staying strong for others.

Aragorn/Arwen— elegant wooden archways, pale pink evening skies, all-knowing smiles, quiet moments in a library, holding hands, flowing velvet gowns, jewel tones, whispered reassurances, undying faith, a crystal pendant on a silver chain, the smell of lavender, twinkling stars above, cups of fruit wine, the taste of dark chocolate, sweet nothings, words of love, juicy pomegranate seeds, impressionist landscape paintings, romantic architecture, love sonnets, cursive handwriting, marble towers, thrushes, accepting the impermanence of life, bittersweet grief, bare trees, a cold winter.

[sallysavestheday]

Late Harvest

For @silmsmutweek, sexy older Luthien and sexy older Beren (M: 700 words). What's not to love? The fun doesn't stop just because you're getting a little creaky. :) Here's a snippet:

Her body knows Beren's as though it is an extension of herself: all the tender places and the secret points of bliss. And after so many years, they have a full library of loving history to draw on for delight - pacing and positions and practices of infinite variety, mentally catalogued to meet each mood, each urge for satisfaction. There is no place on their bodies that does not hold a memory of joy.

On AO3.

[actual-bill-potts]

Hi! If you're still doing the prompts, may I request a Finrod (in beleriand) + green things even among the pits and broken rocks?

Hello! Dear one! Most excellent silm artist! I apologize for being gone so long, feels like I have had several years of bad brain days in a row😭 but thank you so much for prompting me anyway - and what a prompt! I was instantly taken by an image and had to write it down. I hope you enjoy this one<3

TW for descriptions of blood, gore, bones, and general dead bodies.

They brought the bones up first.

Beren’s frame was sharp as daggers, driven into Lúthien’s arms; but he had not listened to her pleas that he eat.

"I will not rest until they can," he said, and for a long moment Lúthien had not understood: who? Rest where?

Then she understood: he meant the dead.

Lúthien was weary beyond belief, cursing the softness of her form and the six-days lost in Nargothrond, and even Huan beside her was sagging in exhaustion. But in truth, she did not want to leave anyone down there in the dark and the filth either.

So they gathered the bones. There were so many! Lúthien knew, of course, that the Eldar had skeletons; but the breadth of them, scattered about the floor, was such that she could not really connect any of it to living breathing creatures. Many of the bones had been split open and the marrow sucked out; others were splintered so badly they had wedged into the stone floor and had to be left. Despite this there were scraps of flesh, still, scattered here and there. It was like no death in the wilderness she had ever seen. These were not merely starving creatures; they had been purposefully cruel.

More than once Lúthien had to stop, and take her too-light load up under the stars, climbing the crumbling steps and breathing very steadily lest she lose all composure. Beren worked like a man possessed, but he was wasted to almost nothing, and so their grim task took long enough that the velvet blackness of the sky had begun to turn grey.

But at last it was done; they had neat rows of bones, away from the chains and the stones, laid out upon the dirt under the sky. At last there was only - only Finrod left, to carry out.

Huan descended with them, this time, head hanging low, and Lúthien clutched his ruff for support as they approached her cousin’s body. The stones crackled beneath her feet.

What was left of Finrod had been barely visible as they labored, between the gloom of the prison and the darkness of the night; but now light was creeping down the stairs, and she could see the gold of his hair and the pale grey of his skin. He was splattered in old black stains, across his mouth and chest and side and legs, and new brown stains. As Lúthien approached she could see the white of bone in his chest and flashing in one arm, and had to close her eyes. Beren beside her let out a low moan.

After a moment, she opened her eyes again, feeling the first rays of the sun warming her back. Then she froze.

Finrod’s hair had been mostly shorn, and what was left was covered in the damp blackness of the pit; but somehow, through a crack in the wall, a patch of aur-hennin had grown. It crowned him in yellow and green, leaves tucked behind his ears, one flower falling forward onto his forehead, as if he had simply fallen asleep after a night’s heavy revelry.

"Beren, look!" said Lúthien, very softly, "the king has got a crown again."

For a moment she felt - outside herself. She was not Lúthien, princess of Doriath; she was the Nandor Elves who had tended to Denethor’s slain body upon the hill of Amon Ereb and, it was said, crowned him in flowers; she was the Eagle who had snatched King Fingolfin’s body from the hand of the Morgoth; she was, for a moment, someone very small, standing in an unfamiliar forest under an unfamiliar sun.

Then the moment passed, as Beren staggered in grief upon her shoulder; but his tears were, she thought, a little lighter, seeing the golden king crowned, seeing her cousin cradled in softness.

Slowly they carried him up to the light.

[velvet4510]

Which is the better Silmarillion ship?

Bluthien

Turleg

Voting ended onOct 28, 2024

[jaz-the-bard]

I love bluthien but their weird genre shift from the rest of the story kinda bothers me in a way? Like, their story, when self-contained, is FANTASTIC! I love their fairytale vibes and the poetry and everything. All the versions of it are good (tevildo my beloved)

But because it's a fairytale situated in an epic tragedy, putting beren and lúthien back into the context of beleriand... makes them look bad

Their whole "nobody matters but us" thing is sweet in a love story and unbelievably selfish when you remember that the rest of beleriand exists. And then there's the bit about them killing a bunch of dwarves? Which is in my opinion not great?

As @shrikeseams points out, lúthien seems to be totally out of the loop with literally everything outside doriath, to a degree that seems indefensible for the princess of a realm that claims to rule all of beleriand. Of course, this isn't even getting into the whole property law stuff with the silmaril

And i like lúthien! But i find it hard to like her in the full context of the silm, because the way she behaves is appropriate for her own story and very much not for the whole thing

[that-angry-noldo]

Can you do Elrond, Maedhros or Beren & Luthien (they are a package deal and must not be seperated)?

have some bluthien friend!!