#milly-writes

[subliminamilly]

First time dad Fëanor interpreting infant Maedhros’s inarticulate utterances with great certainty:

Maedhros: nnnng AHHHH g g g

Fëanor, plucking him from his cradle: SO! You want your blanket refolded into a triangle and not a square. Admirable aesthetic judgement. It shall be done.

(With his other arm he refolds it with unnecessary geometric precision)

(Maedhros grabs for Fëanor’s circlet while drooling on his collar)

Fëanor: Ah! An eye for keen workmanship over fine raiment.

Maedhros: bBbbbBb (wriggling and kicking)

Fëanor: you desire to be borne aloft that you may inspect the proportions of the room by every angle!

(He grasps him under the arms and banks around the room a few times like a great eagle)

(Maedhros shrieks in delight)

Fëanor: as I perceived. You and I understand each other, my son.

[subliminamilly]

thinking about dwarf and elf smiths working together in the first age and the dwarves finding out that elves aren’t naturally fireproof like they are

Dwarf: …. So you’re saying you can’t get any closer to that to the forgefire?

Elf: not comfortably, no

(Later)

Dwarf: *thrusting a hand out* back!

Elf: it’s really all right, I’ll just use the tongs to—

Dwarf: you are made of leaves and moonlight. BACK!

[subliminamilly]

Fëanor looking at infant Maedhros: yea I’m going to need like 6 more of these

[subliminamilly]

It is simply not talked about enough how utterly bangable is Elrond son of Eärendil, but I’m willing to do my part.

The Master of Imladris can eternally have this. Arwen’s dad has got me down bad. The Herald of Gil-Galad may render me unclad. The Halfelven Lord can have me filled with unborn. The bearer of the Ring of Air should pull my hair.

[subliminamilly]

Ecthelion meeting Elrond in the Undying Lands, learning he is the son of Eärendil, and instinctively patting him on the head like he used to his father

[subliminamilly]

Thingol: if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you

Thingol: and then maybe the abyss will even give you a lil smooch

[subliminamilly]

Maeglin growing up in what the Noldor generally consider to be a haunted wood like

Ecthelion: are there not giant spiders in the ravines of Nan Elmoth?

Maeglin: well, yes. The large ones are best avoided but the spawn are fairly harmless.

Ecthelion: ….harmless.

Maeglin: swamp kittens, we call them. Once I captured one and adorned it in my mother’s chemise.

Ecthelion: you what

Maeglin: of course when it grew up it had its revenge by eating my pet two-headed warg.

Ecthelion: your pet

WHAT

[subliminamilly]

Ecthelion/Glorfindel rivals to lovers where young Ecthelion, training at arms in Fingolfin’s household, grows increasingly frustrated as he keeps getting shown up by a golden-haired magical ethereal creature who possesses simultaneously the delicate beauty of a falling linden leaf and the stopping power of Oromë’s favorite battering ram