#elendur

[sluttyseacadet]

A portrait of Isildur, Estrid and Elendur 🌸

Commission for @vintonharper 🤍

[magicalhideoutengineer]

Who's the Fairest of Them All:

Noldor:

Then leapt Ecthelion lord of the Fountain, fairest of the Noldoli, full at Gothmog even as he raised his whip, and his helm that had a spike upon it he drave into that evil breast, and he twined his legs about his foeman’s thighs; and the Balrog yelled and fell forward; but those two dropped into the basin of the king’s fountain which was very deep.

- The Book of Lost Tales II: The Fall of Gondolin

She was named Idril, one of the fairest of the maidens of the Elves of old, and folk called her Celebrindal, Silver-foot, for the whiteness of her slender feet, and she walked and danced ever unshod.

- The Shaping of Middle-earth: Quenta Noldorinwa

His sons were Fëanor, Fingolfin, and Finrod [> Finarphin]. Of these Fëanor was the mightiest in skill of word and hand, more learned in lore than his brethren; in his heart his spirit burned as flame. Fingolfin was the strongest, the most steadfast, and the most valiant. Finrod [> Finarphin] was the fairest, and the most wise of heart; and afterwards he was a friend of the sons of Olwë, lord of the Teleri, and had to wife Eärwen, the swan-maiden of Alqualondë, Olwë’s daughter.

- Morgoth's Ring: Of Eldanor and the Princes of the Eldalië

A sister they had, Galadriel, the fairest lady of the house of Finwë, and the most valiant. Her hair was lit with gold as though it had caught in a mesh the radiance of Laurelin.

- Morgoth's Ring: Of Eldanor and the Princes of the Eldalië

She [Indis] loved Finwë dearly, for her heart had turned to him long before, while the people of Ingwë dwelt still with the Noldor in Túna. In those days she had looked upon the Lord of the Noldor, dark-haired and white-browed, eager of face and thoughtful-eyed, and he seemed to her fairest and noblest among the Eldar, and his voice and mastery of words delighted her.

- Morgoth's Ring: The Statue of Finwë and Míriel

Thus perished Inglor Felagund son of Finrod, fairest and most beloved of the children of Finwe, and returned never again to Middle-earth. But it is said that released soon from Mandos, he went to Valinor and there dwells with Amárië.

- The War of Jewels: The Grey Annals

For these it was, the chosen men of Bëor’s house, who in the fen of reedy Serech stood at bay about King Inglor in the day of his defeat, and with their swords thus saved of all the Elven-lords the fairest; and his love they earned.

- The Lay of Beleriand: The Lay of Leithian

Yet many still lingered in Middle-earth, and the Grey-elven tongue in those days spread eastward; for some of the elven-peoples of Beleriand crossed the mountains of Lune (Ered Luin), and wherever they came they were received as kings and lords, because of their greater wisdom and majesty. These were for the most part Sindar; for the Exiles (such few as remained), highest and fairest of all speaking-peoples, held still to Lindon, the remnant of Beleriand west of the Ered Luin. There Gil-galad was their lord, until the Second Age drew to its end.

- The Peoples of Middle-earth: The Appendix on Languages

Peredhil:

How folk of the Lothlim dwelt at Sirion’s Mouth. Eärendel grew fairest of all Men that were or are. How the mermaids (Oarni) loved him. How Elwing came to the Lothlim and of the love of Elwing and Eärendel. How Tuor fell into age, and how Ulmo beckoned to him at eve, and he set forth on the waters and was lost. How Idril swam after him.

- The Book of Lost Tales II: The Tale of Eärendil

Thereafter was Dior Thingol’s heir, child of Beren and Lúthien, king in the woods, most fair of all the children of the world, for his race was threefold: of the fairest and goodliest of Men, and of the Elves, and of the spirits divine of Valinor; yet it shielded him not from the fate of the oath of the sons of Fëanor. For Dior went back to Doriath and for a time a part of its ancient glory was raised anew, though Melian no longer dwelt in that place, and she departed to the land of the Gods beyond the western sea, to muse on her sorrows in the gardens whence she came.

- The Shaping of Middle-earth: Quenta Noldorinwa

300 [500] Here was born Eärendel the Bright, star of the Two Kindreds, unto Tuor and Idril in Gondolin. In this year was born also Elwing the White, fairest of all women save Lúthien, unto Dior son of Beren in Ossiriand.

- The Lost Road and Other Writings: The Later Annals of Beleriand

Men

[445 >] 443 Morwen Eleðwen, the Elf-sheen, was born, daughter of Baragund. She was the fairest of all mortal maidens of the Elder Days.

- The War of Jewels: The Grey Annals

Even from birth the child was fair, and grew ever in beauty: the woman most beautiful, as old tales tell, that ever was born in the line of Elros, save Ar-Zimraphel, the last. When her first naming was due they called her Ancalimë.

- The Unfinished Tales: The Mariner's Wife

So perished Elendur, who should afterwards have been King, and as all foretold who knew him, in his strength and wisdom, and his majesty without pride, one of the greatest, the fairest of the seed of Elendil, most like to his grandsire. 26 It is said that in later days those (such as Elrond) whose memories recalled him were struck by the great likeness to him, in body and mind, of King Elessar, the victor in the War of the Ring, in which both the Ring and Sauron were ended for ever. Elessar was according to the records of the Dúnedain the descendant in the thirty-eighth degree of Elendur’s brother Valandil. So long was it before he was avenged. [Author’s note.]

- The Unfinished tales: The Disaster of the Gladden Fields

2300 Elrond, who had remained unwed through all his long years, now took to wife Celebrían, daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn of Lórien. His children were the twin brethren, Elladan and Elrohir, and Arwen Undómiel, the fairest of all the maidens of the Third Age, in whom the likeness of Lúthien her foremother returned to Middle-earth.

- The Peoples of Middle-earth: The Tale of the Years of the Third Age

Ainur:

It is told that in that feast of the Spring of Arda Tulkas espoused Lëa-vinya, fairest of the maidens of Yavanna, and Vana robed her in flowers that came then first to their opening.

- Morgoth's Ring: The Annals of Aman

At this time also, it is said, Melian, fairest of the Maiar, desiring to look upon the stars, went up upon Taniquetil; and suddenly she desired to see Middle-earth, and she left Valinor and walked in the twilight.

- Morgoth's Ring: The Annals of Aman

With Manwë dwelt Varda the most beautiful, whom the Noldor name Elbereth, Queen of the Valar; she it was who wrought the stars.

- Morgoth's Ring: The Music of the Ainur and the Coming of the Valar

Therefore Varda set there the most ardent and beautiful of all those spirits that had entered with her into Eä, and she was named Ār(i),15 [An s is pencilled over the r of Ār(i).] and Varda gave to her keeping a portion of the gift of Ilúvatar so that the Sun should endure and be blessed and give blessing.

- Morgoth's Ring: Myths Transformed

Vanyar:

The Lindar [>Vanyar] were his folk, fairest of the Quendi; they are the High Elves, and the beloved of Manwë and Varda, and few Men have spoken with them.

- Morgoth's Ring: Of the Coming of the Elves

Sindar:

It is not known to any among Elves or Men when Lúthien, only child of Elwë and Melian, came into the World, fairest of all the Children of Ilúvatar that were or shall be. But it is held that it was at the end of the first age of the Chaining of Melkor, when all the Earth had great peace and the glory of Valinor was at its noon, and though Middle-earth for the most [part] lay in the Sleep of Yavanna, in Beleriand under the power of Melian there was life and joy and the bright stars shone like silver fires.

- The War of Jewels: The Grey Annals

And they are called, therefore, the Sindar, the Grey Elves of starlit Berleriand. And albeit they were Moriquendi, under the lordship of Thingol and the teaching of Melian they became the fairest and the most wise and skilful of all the Elves of Middle-earth.

- The War of Jewels: The Grey Annals

[isilwhore]

The Sons of Isildur 💔

[hobbitinnumenor]

A little family fluff tag to my Númenor longfic!

Just a little idea for fleshing out the family life within my fic! For those unacquainted, Manwen is Anárion's wife and Almiel their daughter. Elendur is Isildur's son, obviously, and Cynwen his wife (Elendur's mother...and a healer, hence "home visits"). Almiel is about five years old here, and Elendur seven.

This is set before the Fall (obivously), perhaps a year or so before...in my imaginings, not long after something big happens with Anárion (check out my fic to find out what, at this same handle on A03, called "Over Waves" and part of a trilogy!).

A little Sindarin that's included (per formulations I've found, for some, as Tolkien didn't create all of these words...but we can extrapolate).

~mae: good ("mae govannen")

~atya: father

~emig: momma

~dâtheg: uncle

~nethemel: aunt (mother-sister)

🪻🪻🪻

“Good, very good…mae, my dears,” Manwen noted as she looked over Elendur and Almiel's work.

They were studying numbers and basic addition today. The spring day allowed them to work outside in the garden: full of newly growing vegetables, vibrant young flowers, and Cynwen’s healing herbs.

Manwen reflected on how mathematics came more easily to her daughter than to her nephew. Even at their tender ages, five and seven, their temperaments were clear: Elendur, lyrical and driven to dreamy fancies, like his father…versus Almiel, logical and analytical, like her father.

She was learning how to teach them basic skills, before they were old enough to take charge of their own studies – becoming a more effective teacher to them both, in their individual abilities and needs, all the time.

Manwen didn’t have a clear guild trajectory before meeting and marrying Anárion, unlike everyone else in the family at that point – so it fell on her to watch them while the other family members worked.

Cynwen would often remind her that she still did need something for herself…and her art was that.The children’s exclamations interrupted these scattered thoughts.

“YAY, we did it!,” Elendur rejoiced.

“Emig, so we can play now?” Almiel asked. “I have a new game to teach Elen…dâtheg taught it to me after dinner last night!”

Manwen giggled – she loved the unique connection between her brother-in-law and daughter – then affirmed yes, that was indeed the last of their work for the day, so they were free to play a game.

“Ok, ok, Elen, it’s called ‘I spy’...you have to pick something and then say ‘I spy with my little eye…’ and then tell me what color it is, then you have to find it!,” Almiel instructed her cousin.

“FUN!” Elendur responded, “....can I go first?” Almiel rolled her eyes and sighed…“fine, but I get to go first next time!”

Elendur seemed to not care either way; he was hopping around and looking for something to have his cousin find. His eyes popped when he seemed to have found it.

“I spy with my little eye…somethiiiing….purple!”

Almiel guessed a couple of purple plants, but it turned out it was a smaller purple flower around a bend in the small garden path.Almiel’s turn – she picked yellow, not any plant but the yellow in her mother’s hair, its sun-shined highlights.

They went back and forth a few times, becoming energized and immersed in the game enough to be running and pointing all around the garden – Manwen keeping watch from the garden bench. Afternoon sun shone her daughter’s curls, the same color as hers, and the hazel in Elendur’s eyes, those of his father.

Manwen laughed and felt her face sore from smiling, grinning simply at the children’s joy. After what her husband had recently been through, after she observed her child’s quiet worry about it…after everything that was happening around them all the time, evidence of their land’s encroaching darkness accumulating by the day…this childlike wonder was food for her very soul.

Cynwen had told her it felt like the same for her. Less joyful and heartening were the clouds in the distance, seeming to move towards them faster and faster. Moreover, those clouds were connected with that same encroaching darkness; the more this island’s shadow grew, the more frequent and severe these storms became. Whatever they were, Manwen knew she’d have to get the children inside before they all got wet.

She also heard, in mind’s ear, Cynwen asking her when the last time she painted was. Sighing to herself, she acknowledged her sister’s wisdom and appreciated her care.

It came to her, a good plan for the rest of the afternoon, before the men would come home from the docks and they’d all prepare dinner: the children could draw in the playroom while she painted (it was also her small studio).

“Elen, my little luck, let’s go to the playroom…let’s not stay outside until those clouds give us a shower.”

“No, no, we wouldn’t want that!” Almiel agreed.

“Uggggh, but this game is so fun!” Elendur protested – but stopped when his aunt gave him a look speaking that they’d be going inside and that was final.

They were soon settled in the little room off the main hall, full of the children’s toys and books – as well as Manwen’s easel, paints, and accompanying supplies, tucked in a little corner with good lighting.

Manwen got the children parchment paper and drawing tools, then decided what she wanted to paint: purple flowers, with sunlit-yellow hair curving over them, a face sniffing the flowers’ fragrance.

As she worked – blending, spreading, scraping, wiping – she watched, out of the corner of one eye, the children drawing.

“I’m drawing stars…emig calls me starlight! Atya told me that my name means ‘servant of the stars’!”, Elendur proudly proclaimed to his cousin, his voice holding wonder.

Almiel looked at his drawing, nodded, and confidently showed him hers.

“I like it, I like stars! I’m drawing sparkles! Atya and emig call me ‘little luck’, and sparkles make me think of luck, of good and pretty things,” she asserted. “And hearts. Because they’re good and pretty and I like them!”

Elendur’s eyes and smile widened as he looked at Almiel’s drawing.

Manwen continued working, but grinned at this exchange between cousins – how they were sharing parts of themselves through their drawings.

That’s what art is for, after all, she thought: shining light on parts of ourselves. How lovely to just enjoy creating before we learn to so harshly judge ourselves and what we make, she also pondered.

Mid-these musings, the door creaked open just a crack. Manwen saw Cynwen peeking through – a finger to her lips. She must have recently gotten in from the day’s home visits. Manwen winked at her and kept painting.

Again out of the corner of her eye, through that little crack in the door, Manwen saw Cynwen watch the children for a moment. Her face filled with joy to see the children’s, immersed in the bliss of their own creation.

Then Cynwen jumped forward into the room, the door swinging open – smiling wide and reaching her arms akimbo.

“EMIG!” Elendur cried out, running towards her. “My boy!!” Cynwen answered, laughing as she dropped to his level and wrapped those arms around him. “How are you, how was your day?”

“It was so good! We did writing and then numbers and then Almiel taught me a new game! I will teach you soon!” the boy answered, jumping in excitement away from his mother’s embrace.

“I can’t wait, my starlight,” she assured him, tenderly holding his hands.

“Hi hi nethemel!” interrupted Almiel, running to Cynwen for her own hug.

“I hope that you had just as good a day, my dear,” Cynwen said, dropping her son’s hands to hug her niece.

“Very very good! And now I’m hungry, is dinner soon?,” Almiel answered. Cynwen and Manwen laughed…the appetite of a quickly growing girl.

“I think so, little dear. Let’s go wash up and start preparing, shall we?”

“YAY!” the cousins said in unison – making both women chuckle again. Cynwen took them each by the hand and led them towards the door.

“I’ll start on dinner with them…you take a moment, Manwen my dear,” she noted to her chosen sister. “That painting is looking gorgeous, isn’t it?” she then asked the children.

“So pretty!!” agreed Elendur. “So so nice!!” added Almiel.

“Let’s let her make it even better while we start on dinner, shall we?,” Cynwen said to them.

Walking them out, she winked at Manwen once again and then asked Elendur to close the door behind him.

Manwen took a deep breath….aaah, silence. Another day with the children completed. She absolutely loved time with them, but that all to herself was its own treasure – a necessary one, she was increasingly recognizing. (Cynwen was so right about it, she remembered – and modeled it through her solo time in nature, that amongst her plants.)

She scanned her painting and planned out next steps a bit more. She’d add a bit more color and shading to the purple flowers, then join the family for dinner prep. The men would soon be home from their own work.

Dipping her brush in the shade of purple she’d blended, taking another deep breath, she focused herself back on the creative moment. One more stroke, the canvas slowly filling.

One more day moving forward as a family, united in the face of shadow before and around them. They were their own light.

🪻🪻🪻

[elronds-library]

To love and to live

by Camille_LaChenille (@camille-lachenille)

Celebrían and Varyandë grow close during the war of the Last Alliance, and unexpected feelings bloom between them.

Teen, Major Character Death

Words: 1,004

[vintonharper]

I updated this fic. Eärien is getting in some quality time with the fam, but everyone's got Feelings.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61892005/chapters/166189606

[edennill-archived]

I literally just can't about the Father-to-son lineages in the house of, what-d'you-call-it — the Lords of Andunie as they become Kings-in-exile.

...there's Amandil, my most dearly beloved, tragic, unjustly sidelined, Amandil... and then Amandil said farewell to all his household, as one that is about to die and [Elendil] journeyed in secret to the western shores and gazed out over the sea, for sorrow and yearning were upon him, and he greatly loved his father :((((

...But it is most like that you shall fly from the Land of the Star with no star to guide you for that land is defiled...

And Elendil with Isildur... there is very little that we actually get about their relationship in the Silm and LotR, but Isildur seeing his father killed in front of him... and then there's that snippet about Númenor with a very weird framing device, and you can so clearly see that Tolkien is thinking about his relationship with his sons when he writes them and I am not normal about it.

The exchange we have between Isildur and his eldest in The Unfinished Tales...

"My King," said Elendur, "...Your last counsellor must advise, nay command you... Go! Take your burden, and at all costs bring it to the Keepers: even at the cost of abandoning your men and me!" "King's son," said Isildur, "I knew that I must do so; but I feared the pain. Nor could I go without your leave. Forgive me, and my pride that has brought you to this doom." Elendur kissed him. "Go! Go now!" he said.

🥺🥺🥺.

And Valandil, far younger than his brothers who would have hardly known his father, and was raised in Rivendell(!) Did he regret never having seen Númenor? Was his mother glad that he had never known the horror of it? And Valandil being an earlier name for Amandil which ties it all back to the beginning (and to Valandil, first lord of Andunie, and those early generations after Elros, near kin to Elrond). It seems strange that anyone could be openly named "devoted to the Valar" in late Númenór, and that might be why Tolkien changed it, but I like to think that it was some secret name in some way belonging to Amandil, that Isildur named his youngest son after his grandfather, and thus the tale is brought full circle.

[fangirl-erdariel]

The King of the Tower of the Moon masterpost

It is the year 3399 of the Second Age. Isildur with his family has survived the Fall of Númenor, and together with his father Elendil and his brother Anárion has founded the realms of Arnor and Gondor in Middle-Earth. The horrors experienced in Númenor have been left behind, and Isildur’s life has settled into its tracks in Ithilien, where preparations for the celebration of his son Elendur’s 100th birthday are currently underway. Everyone believes Sauron to have perished in the Fall of Númenor, but one day this belief will prove wrong. Isildur, Anárion, and Elendil must go to war in defence of their new homeland. The elves come to the aid of the dúnedain, and so begins the War of the Last Alliance, at the end of which Sauron will lose his Ring, never to regain it.

Here's a list of all the chapter titles of the King of the Tower of the Moon, a longfic about Isildur and his family that I am translating to English! Please note that at the current moment, the translation has no regular update schedule, and I add new chapters at whatever pace I have the time, energy, and motivation to translate them.

The fic was originally in Finnish, and posted by Mithrellas with the title Kuun Tornin kuningas, first on a Finnish LOTR fanfic site in 2014-2016, and then on Ao3 in 2017-2018. My translation is of the version posted on Ao3

I may add other information to this post if and when I think of something about the fic that's relevant to mention, but for now, this will be only a list of the chapters, with links to each one that has been posted so far.

Please note that the translations of the titles for some of the as-yet unpublished chapters may change in the future, if I come up with more satisfying translations for them

Chapters:

1 - Servant of the Moon 2 - Unexpected Guests 3 - The White Tree 4 - Cockerels 5 - The Ball 6 - The White Queen 7 - Call of the Sea 8 - Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost 9 - In the Hall of the Mountain-King 10 - Miruvor* 11 - Turning Points 12 - Theatre of Life 13 - Northmen 14 - Fresh Blood 15 - Sunshine in a Galenas-meadow 16 - The King’s Squire 17 - Lunar Eclipse 18 - Flames of Doom 19 - Under the Shadow 20 - The Oathbreakers 21 - A Woman from the Past 22 - Prodigal Sons 23 - Conflict 24 - Elostirion 25 - Gil-galad 26 - Surprises 27 - Friend from a Distant Land 28 - The Alliance 29 - The Heir 30 - The Council 31 - Lôminzil 32 - The Farewell 33 - The Brown Lands 34 - First of Many 35 - Vengeance 36 - His Father’s Son 37 - Separate Roads 38 - Eiliant 39 - The Wounded 40 - A Surprise Guest 41 - Solar Eclipse 42 - Weregild 43 - Riddles 44 - The Tower of the Sun 45 - A New Journey 46 - Holy Mountain 47 - The Promise 48 - The Last March 49 - The Departure of the King 50 - The Lonely Ones 51 - Cousin 52 - The Widow Queen 53 - A Light from the Shadows Shall Spring

* = the translation for this chapter is finished and more or less in a state where it can be posted