#turgoldo

[pigeon-of-gondolin]

[welcomingdisaster]

|| G, 700 words, turgon/elenwe, turgon & finrod, turgon/finrod. ao3. || No painting nor carven image of Elenwë remains by the time they reach Middle-Earth. In the beginning there are two; a sketch of the lovers embracing, done in charcoal on the back of a ledger, and a locket worn by Turgon himself, his wife’s image carved on one side and his daughter’s on the other, encircled by strands of golden hair.

The sketch had been hurried, though intimate; done in better days by Finrod’s hand. In it Turgon is turned away, his lips pressed to Elenwë’s neck, and Elenwë throws her head back, laughing, ticklish. They had burned it for warmth on the ninth week of the voyage, without noticing the loss. Turgon had seen the sketch on the curled underside of the ledger only when it had already been burning. Elenwë had been leaning against his side, then, her head resting on his shoulder, and he did not draw her attention it.

(At times he wonders if she had seen it, too—is she too had chosen to say nothing, watching the flames, if she had been happy for the warmth despite the sting of that little loss.)

The locket had been commissioned in Aman, and had taken the artist nearly a year to complete to perfection. Elenwë had sat for it uncomplaining, though the whole thing had somewhat amused her—do you not have me, she had asked, to look upon if you wish?—and her amusement shows, too, in the crinkles under her eyes, carved into gold, in the slight asymmetry of her smile. Her golden curls are so finely carved they seem to be real hair; her eyes twinkle. She seems about to speak, or to laugh.

The locket lays now deep beneath bitter waters. Some part of Turgon imagines that it might have found Elenwë’s bones, as the ice had closed around her; some part of him imagines it is resting in her ribcage, where once a living heart had beat.

But that he cannot say. Only that he had come out of the dark waters holding his daughter and bereft of wife and locket alike. 

So now they sit in the sunlight. Turgon has put on his favorite robes, gold and azure. Idril wears new clothes, sewn here, in Middle-Earth; a skirt of the most charming cornflower-blue and an embroidered tunic with a ruffled collar. The paints they trade for with the grey-elves; the artist is of their own folk.

And there is only one whom Turgon can ask to sit in Elenwë’s place.

There is no other who can match the gold of her hair and her stature at once; no other, perhaps, who would consent to such a plea and say nothing of it.

(No other, Turgon thinks sometimes, when his hope and his vanity and his resentment threaten to choke him, who looks at Turgon with such naked adoration in his eyes, no other who laughs so loud at his jokes).

He pulls the blue-green bodice around Finrod’s waist, helps him into silken skirts of the delicate sea foam. When he braids Finrod’s hair it feels just the same; his fingers find the familiar patterns of marriage-braids. Finrod shuts his eyes and ducks his head, unbreathing; Turgon ignores the thudding of his own heart against his ears.

He arranges Finrod on the garden bench. Idril sits between them, in front of them; he pulls Finrod back, into the shadows of the trees behind them, and the warm yellow light on Idril’s face makes a pleasing contrast.

He steps back, away from the bench, surveying his handiwork. Steps forward again and takes Finrod’s face very gently in his hands, turning his head away from the artist, into the shadows. Draws his newly-made braids over his shoulder to conceal his profile.

(In face, after all, they really are little alike.)

He sits back down, assuming his place, and sees there are tears on Finrod’s honey-blond eyelashes, fine like morning dew and quite as pretty. He is absurdly grateful that Finrod is a quiet crier; that Idril, proud little chin tipped forward towards the artist, did not see.

When he reaches to hold Finrod’s hand behind her back, he is not sure it is mercy.

[busymagpie]

Finrod’s got a thing for biting

[swanhild]

Laurëndil

Last minute entry for @silmsmutweek To go with the prompts threesomes and moresomes, humor/crack, rare pairs, canon ships, established relationships, voyeurism and tender sex. (Also an early entry for @nolofinweanweek because this one is all about Turgon, really. And I might be stranded without access to the Internet for a for a couple of days in November, so.)

Summary: Turgon spends a bit of quality time with two of his favourite people and tries something new. (A story about Turgon's life in Valinor post-reembodiment. That ends in a threesome.)

Characters: Turgon, Finrod, Elenwë Relationships: Finrod/Turgon, Turgon/Elenwë, Finrod/Turgon/Elenwë Words: 7k Rating: Explicit Genre: Smut, Humor, Angst (only at the beginning)

Read on AO3

Excerpt:

Turgon groaned in embarrassment and covered his face with one arm. “Having both of you involved in this was a mistake,” he grumbled and Finrod could see that the was blushing even harder than before. Finrod patted his hip. “Don't lie, Turno. You love having both of us in your bed at the same time.” "It's your bed, not mine," Turgon muttered, but didn't argue the point otherwise.

[arofili]

thank you to the amazing @drxconicsart for this stunning commission of Turgon/Finrod during their ~night at the river~ !!! It’s just beautiful, I love their passion and the background is simply breathtaking 😍😍😍

To see the full (NSFW!!) image, check it out on ao3 here! It’s attached as chapter 3 of an old fic of mine about these two :)

Full Image (explicit!)

[elveswithfeels]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

this was originally written for my pride prompt series (find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31703255/chapters/78464609) but it didn’t quite fit them, so now, it’s a stand-alone

AU where Finrod survived Tol-in-Gaurhoth and afterwards (probably?) came to Gondolin with Turgon. There might as well be some longer story for this AU, eventually. 

Hurt/Comfort, quite some pain and angst, but mentions of fluff 

CNs: mentions of torture, scars 

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences 

[annaquenta]

[Image description: Pencil drawing of Finrod and Turgon at the Meres of Twilight, with yellow fireflies around the water. Finrod is relaxing with his feet in the water, while Turgon sits a few feet away from him, talking. End image description.]

October 14, 2020

@silmarilasta Day 14: Nature!

I love Turgon and Finrod (this is kind of a drawing of a scene in my fic) and this was very fun to draw <3

[busymagpie]

Hello! Hope you're having a good day :D

I hope this question isn’t rude or anything but since you posted a few sketches lately I just wanted to ask if you maybe have some Turgon sketches laying around that you would like to share? Just because I love him a lot and there is not very much art with him, sadly. The two (at least I have found only two) of your pieces with him in it are s o good and I would love to see more of him in your style! Feel free to ignore this ask though, if you don't have/don't want to share anything, I hope this isn't a weird question.

Anyway, while I'm at it let me just say that you're great and your art is amazing (I especially love how you draw so many different faces so distinctively and expressive. Also hair. So many different, pretty hairstyles!!) and I really like spending time on your blog!

Have a nice day <3

Heyo :) It's been pretty good, thanks! It's not rude at all! But I'm afraid I have to disappoint since I only recently started to keep my digital sketches instead of trashing them right away and I haven't drawn him all that much lately. The only thing I have is a wip I'm set on finishing some day. It's shippy though, and also a year old as of now so there are already so many things I want to change about it. Since I'm going to finish it eventually, I don't want to spoil it completely, but here ya go!

Also thank you! :') 💕 So many nice compliments, you're making me tear up! (well actually I'm wiggling in my seat, but it's pretty much the same really) Have a great day as well! ❤