@ten-thousand-leaves, thank you for being so patient! Your secret santa dropped out, so I stepped in instead - here’s Finrod and Maglor!
EXPECTATIONS

Love Begins

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@tolkiensecretartexchange
@ten-thousand-leaves, thank you for being so patient! Your secret santa dropped out, so I stepped in instead - here’s Finrod and Maglor!
A moment of stillness
Dear @dreams-pass-in-time, your @tolkiensecretartexchange Secret Santa was unable to complete your gift, apologies for the delay!
You asked for Glorfindel/Ecthelion and maybe a quiet moment in Gondolin – a lovely prompt, and one I enjoyed writing :) Happy new year!
“Stop wiggling and hush. Right. So on the next page we have an illumination of the gardens of Yavanna – well, if the gardens of Yavanna had garish cabbages, what on earth the artist was thinking I’ll never know – opposite a short treatise on ancient high elevation agriculture. I’ll read it to you, shall I?”
“If you read me that, I will be forced to break my other leg in desperation.”
“Honestly, your penchant for melodrama is worse than your penchant for riding horses into trees.”
“I did not – Will you stop saying – It was a poorly shod horse, and an ill-placed tree – It could have happened to even the best equestrian, you libelous bore – ”
“But it didn’t. It happened to you. Stop wriggling.”
Glorfindel let out a groan and dropped back against the pillows. In the chair beside the bed, Ecthelion clicked his tongue impatiently and uncrossed his legs, leaning forward to straighten the cushion under Glorfindel’s leg, setting down his book on the ground.
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A very belated gift for @jul-likes-magpies (via @tolkiensecretartexchange ) - you had Aredhel written on your wishlist and I wanted to make her smile :D
My super late art for the Silmarillion secret santa! Here is Galadriel for @lets-march-april-may - you mentioned you loved her intro in the book, and that got me thinking of her youth in Valinor, when her mother-name was Nerwen because she was just as tall and strong as her male playfellows, and tended to do the same not-traditionally-feminine things for fun. And somewhere it’s mentioned that it was from Celeborn seeing her with her hair pulled up in a wreath around her head for said activities that he gave her the name Alatáriel (’maiden crowned with a radiant garland’, Galadriel in Sindarin), and she liked it so much she was like ‘Yeah cool I’ll just go by that from now on.’
So here you go, Galadriel having a grand time wrestling (or something, idk, how do I draw actiony things, help), and looking fabulous while doing it. Watch out [insert your favorite annoying Fëanorion cousin], she’ll kick your butt.
(Col-erase pencils on paper, a bit of photoshop for lighting)
Melkor for @vaethryn! Melkor emerging from Angband to answer Fingolfin’s challenge is one of my favourite scenes.
Lúthien chilling with Huan the Hound for @erbor, for @tolkiensecretartexchange. Tried to capture her grace and fierceness, and mostly had fun rendering clothes in watercolour pencils.
posting this in the early am my time cause i have to leave for vacation, but! my secret santa gift for @actual-mairon, who requested angbang! <3 i hope this is okay ^^ and happy holidays~ ^^
for @melkorslegacy and @tolkiensecretartexchange!
I hope you had a very merry Christmas and I wish you a happy and lovely New Year <3. One of your wishes was:
Caranthir (Maybe something about Moryo being a good brother?)
Of course he is! It’s my watercolour pic and a story.
A Good Brother
- Does it really have to cost so much? - asked Caranthir. - But Moryo, it’s a complete handbook of poetic theory! - exclaimed Maglor. - Here you’ll find all kinds of poetic meters, all types of stress. There is a rhyming dictionary, a glossary of rare and obsolete words … - Excuse me, - sighed Caranthir, – why is this handbook worth five horses? - Because this volume has a silver binding with pearl and onyx inlay, it’s all illuminated, it has golden initials and comes with a bookmark adorned with diamond crescents … - I do not understand why a handbook must be inlaid with diamonds. - Caranthir lifted his hands in dismay. - I believe those Gondolindrim are completely out of touch with reality. - But Moryo, please help me! Otherwise Daeron will buy it… - Maglor gave him a mournful look. - Perhaps, Turgon can arrange for us a discount? - rather miserably asked Caranthir. - Well, you know, all of these raw materials are really expensive. And why Turgon should put pressure on his loremasters, causing them to sell at loss? - All right, I know you have spent a lot this year on arms and horses, - said Caranthir. - I’ll get in touch with my commissioner in Gondolin and he will pay for the book. - But I can do it myself, Moryo! - No way, brother; if I let you, you’ll buy another twenty books in Gondolin, and you’ll be short of money for this one!
When Caranthir heard the sound of hunting horns, the thud of hooves, and the rustle of falcon wings, and Celegorm appeared before the gates of his house, the younger brother felt a kind of relief: dogs and birds just cannot cost as much as the hapless book! - Look, - Celegorm proudly displayed a sheet of paper with an image of a horse and a dog. Caranthir had an impression that the unhappy creatures were subject of some horrible test or a cruel torture, and that Celegorm was going to rescue the suffering animals. But looking closer, he saw that all these golden and silver ringlets, tendrils, swirls and nails were not instruments of torture, but a part of a monstrously extravagant harness. - What is it? - asked Caranthir, almost guessing the answer. - I’ve commissioned the dwarves to make this. It’s all my design. A complete set of harness for a horse and a dog. Sapphire stars, diamond dewdrops, amethyst flowers, and… - Turko, in my opinion, it is too much. Are you sure your animals will survive this? - It is made of special light alloy of gold and silver with admixture of galvorn. They weigh nothing at all. And diamonds are not that heavy … By the way, the kit includes also a hunting horn. - Turko, -, said Caranthir, as he believed, firmly, - this is too much. I understand you want to be like Oromë; even our father did not object when you began to dye your hair golden, ride a white horse and stuff like that. But you must stop somewhere. - Why? - asked Celegorm. Caranthir could not come with an appropriate answer. - Well, - said he after writing a short note, – take this to my steward, he will give you the required amount. - That’s not enough! - Because I strike out the horn, you know. - But why? - Because if you make noise while riding with all this, you will be killed and robbed. - I’m going to hunt in Nan Dungortheb, - stated Celegorm. - There is nobody there. - In that case you’ll be killed and eaten together with all those jewels. - Caranthir sighed. - Well, you’ll have your horn. Just promise not to go alone! - All right, all right, - said Celegorm.
- Gondolin, you see … - began Curufin. The first word indeed freaked him out. In his head Caranthir started to count and add up the sums he was to spend now. - Curvo, your son is an adult. If he wants to complete his education and learn from Gondolin craftsmen, it is not necessary to get him ready for school as if he were a boy of thirty. - You mean he can go to Gondolin dressed like this? Celebrimbor looked away shyly. Caranthir had an impression that his nephew was quite well dressed: a scarlet silk shirt, a warm and thick crimson coat lined with wolf fur and embroidered with golden stars; new boots, a belt decorated with gold and, for good measure, he wore at least a dozen finger-rings. - I think, yes, he may go dressed like that, - said Caranthir. - Are you crazy, Moryo?! My son is the only grandson of Fëanor. Just imagine him appearing before Turgon in this coat! Look, there’s a star missing on the sleeve. - Curufin grabbed Celebrimbor’s sleeve and showed it to Caranthir, jolting the timid young Elf’s hand as if it were a rag. - As if you cannot make another one yourself, - grumbled Caranthir. - It is not what I am talking about! - exclaimed Curufin. – This is quite different matter! Our family must not be regarded as… - Oh, Curvo - Caranthir sighed, - you’re so much like our father, that I am ready to quarrel with you for hours just to get this feeling again. But I will not. I think your son also needs a horse?
Amrod also often asked for money, but in this case it was Caranthir’s pleasure to give. Having lost his twin brother, Amrod decided that this should happen to no one else. He tried to make separated brothers and sisters to come together again, to return home children uprooted from their families, - buying out or freeing prisoners, helping them to run away from their tormentors or move to another place. His kindness extended to Men and dwarves as well. The only thing Caranthir did not like were the sad stories Amrod told him; he often had sleepless nights remembering them. - Pityo, I’ll give you anything, just please do not tell me… - No, - interrupted him Amrod blushingly, - this time I have the means, just … do you have any ornaments? - You mean - jewelry? For your cloak? Or hair, or… - No, Moryo, not for me, it’s for a girl … a lady… - For a girl? - Caranthir was indeed amazed. - No, just do not get any ideas… It’s the daughter of Orodreth. She has her begetting day next month. I’m not going to Nargothrond, of course, the family will be not very glad to see me, but I just wanted to send her something nice. - Of course, I can find something for her; do you want me to send it? - No, I want it to come from me, - said Amrod. Fortunately, Caranthir found in his treasury a set of beautiful silver bracelets he was able to give to Amrod. “It’s for a blonde, I’ll never need it anyway and I do not have anyone to give it to”, – so he consoled himself.
- I’m terribly tired, - said Maedhros, falling into a chair. - Can I get some sleep here? - Of course, - said Caranthir. - Sleep where you want. - By the way, I have to convey to you a gift from a Dwarf lord. It is in my travel bag. Just imagine, a Dwarfs’ convoy was attacked on the road - first orcs, then came a giant spider. Simply monstrous. I was so scared - even thought for a moment it was Ungolianth. They say she is long dead, however. In any case, we chased them out. The Dwarf lord promised to present me with some amazing helmet, but frankly, I do not care. - You do not like to receive gifts? - Caranthir smiled. - I do not even know. In fact, I personally do not need anything. To be honest, I do not know what I would like. The elder brother fell asleep in the chair before Caranthir could invite him to go to bed. Caranthir started to look through some papers; he tried to write something, but soon he perceived that the scratch of pen on the paper and the rustle may wake Maedhros, so he just sat quietly at the table. It was getting dark outside, but he did not light candles. He felt now like a little child; but this feeling of shyness and helplessness was not unpleasant: it was cozy, homelike, although a little sad. Maedhros woke up when the moon appeared on the clear night sky. - Moryo, are you here? - Yes, I am here. - Forgive me, please, you are sitting there in the dark because of me! If you want, may I help you to cook something? - I do, indeed; but will you excuse me if… If I still have something to give you? - It depends on what it is. All right, I’m kidding - of course, give it to me, if you want. - Come with me. They went into Caranthir’s treasury, and the younger brother lit the large crystal oil lamps. - Close your eyes, - said Caranthir, and seated Maedhros on a high chair. At first Maedhros did not understand; then he opened his eyes and reached out to his head. Something warm and heavy lay on his shoulders. He looked around; in front of him was a huge silver mirror. Maedhros saw that his brother put on his head a golden crown - a crown of red gold, all winded, laced, and weaved - like a constellation of enormous snowflakes, studded with rubies; it heaved into the air above his head like a halo of fire; heavy garnet pendants were hanging along his cheeks. On his shoulders was a long scarlet robe, embroidered with unconceivable patterns of stars, birds, branches and flowers. Not a single element of the pattern was ever repeated: all the birds, animals, trees, plants were different; starting to look from one corner to another, Maedhros realized that this cloak was a huge symbolic map of Beleriand, showing animal and plant species representative for each location. - Do you like it? - asked Caranthir nervously. - It is so wonderful … perfect… but why? Where did you get this? - I made this crown myself; of course, I’m not such a great craftsman as Curufin, but I think it suits you. I asked an Avari who can do such things to embroider the cloak. - Well, I cannot wear it … it’s not for me, Moryo. - Nelyo, I just wanted to say … you know, I have always been opposed to you refusing the crown. It was ridiculous. It’s unfair. You are my king. Now and always. I would like you to get this crown – your crown – back from my hands. I am ready to do everything for this. You’re my brother, my father, everything in the world. - Come on, - Maedhros sighed. He took off the crown and laid it to Caranthir’s head. - And you’re my favorite brother. Just do not tell anyone, okay? So are we cooking something or not? I’m very hungry.
—–
(all corrections welcome!)
Bestowed by silver and gold
So, this is my Christmas gift for @markedasinfernal for The Silmarillion-themed Secret Santa brought by @tolkiensecretartexchange , hello, darling, I’m your Secret Santa! :)
I hope you will enjoy that piece, written especially for you, and along with that I want to wish you a very merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! From your wish list I’ve chosen this prompt: Maedhros and Fingon sparring in Valinor, so here you have little Maedhros and Fingon fluff!
Once again, enjoy, sweetheart! :)
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Hi, @z-h-i-e! I’m very sorry this is so late, but here’s your @tolkiensecretartexchange gift. I hope you enjoy it. :)
As the Light Lies on These White Walls
Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aredhel & Idril Celebrindal Characters: Idril Celebrindal, Aredhel, Turgon Additional Tags: Family, Gondolin Summary: Moments before the first descent into Gondolin.
Merry Christmas @bracari-iris !!! Sorry this was not up yesterday but don’t worry, your secret santa didn’t forget about you! Hope you like my take on Yavanna, she is one of my fave Valier and when I saw your prompt I couldn’t resist! Have a wonderful christmas and a very happy new year!
I’m horrible - arriving several days late without Starbucks. My internet was disconnected so I’m taking over the library’s.
Here is a *hopefully* good fic for Sindefara, via #tolkiensecretartexchange thingy!
Hopefully this falls within acceptable parameters of fluffiness. Heads up - it’s kind of long, featuring Nolofinweans and feels. (thank you for being so patient)
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OK so @tolkiensecretartexchange reveal! This is for @mademoiselle-snowflake who requested Maedhros.
The quote is one that I’ve been wanting to stitch for a while, and I’m really happy with how it turned out! It’s hard to tell but there’s red and gold kreinik in the border too so it actually sparkles.
I hope you like it!
Hey @cygnete, here’s your secret santa thing ^.^ Sorry it’s a little late– Christmas Eve and day were a lot. Either way, hope you like it, and also hope you don’t mind that it’s a fic rather than something drawn.
EDIT: Cross posted on ao3 for easier reading and proper formatting of Fëanor’s name, which I just realized I didn’t fix before posting it here! Also, that’s where any editing that takes place will show up, so if you want to read the super most edited version (because I’ll likely spend the next few minutes tweeking it there), definitely read it through the link :)
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For @whereisbarton who requested Aragorn and the Dunedain rangers. I hope you don’t mind that Aragorn only appear in the margins of this series of vingettes/drabbles about the Grey Company.
———————-
I. Halbarad
It wasn’t much of a house, just a small cabin in the middle of the woods with a creek nearby, a few rows of corn out the back, a couple chickens, a horse, and a goat. Halbarad tucked the summons into his pocket and finished the washing up. The summons were not the metaphorical bolt out of the blue, not with Elrond constantly pressuring his cousin to take up Isildur’s legacy and the ever growing threat of Mordor. He always expected the summons to be a little different. He expected Aragorn to come riding up, not a little piece of paper tied to a hawk’s foot. He expected to be standing armed and ready. He didn’t expect to be standing on his front step with dirt between his toes and a tub of dirty dishes on the table inside.
He barred the shutters and left the front door unlocked. All the dishes were cleaned and stacked neatly on their shelf. He filled a bucket by the fireplace with dry wood and left what food he could not take in the cellar. The linens were folded neatly in a chest at the foot of his bed and herbs still hung above the kitchen table. The few books he owned, he wrapped in a spare shirt and packed into his saddlebags. The chickens and the goats he turned loose; they could fend for themselves. Any wayfarer or dunedain wandering the wilds was welcome to the place; he would never return. Halbarad swung up into the saddle and rode towards the south without a backwards glance. The star pinning his cloak never felt so heavy.
II. Candaith
Candaith spent his entire life in the wilds, except for wintering at the Angle or up further north in Annuminas. He’d been born on the side of the road and raised by parents who never quite understood why marriage equated to “settling down”. They carried him all over Eriador and once traveled as far south as Edoras. He figured he’d someday go all the way to Minas Tirith and perhaps as far as Dol Amroth. The Chieftain called for a scout and Candaith would answer. He shouldered his pack, dumped water on his fire, and turned south, whistling an old Breeland walking song. The eight-pointed brooch at his shoulder winked in the morning sun.
III. Saerdan
Bree and the surrounding towns stood in the North as a symbol of home and stability. Here, trade flowed from Ered Luin and over the Misty Mountains to Rhovanion and occasionally up from the south. Here humans, hobbits, and dwarves coexisted in relative peace. One could almost pretend that it wasn’t under constant siege by bandits and other creatures preying on unwary farmers. Saerdan wiped blood off his sword. Orcs and within sight of Bree’s smoking chimneys. Rumor ran wild of strange shapes and noises in the night and for once, the rumors had been correct.
He walked back home as the stars came out. Lights shone in the windows of a small house on top of the hill. The smell of ham and baking bread drifted out of the chimney. Geese squawked as Saerdan crossed the small yard between the gate and the front door. “This came for you,” said his wife, handing him a scroll with a seal of red wax.
“So,” said his oldest, Firiel. “The Chieftain means to press his claim.”
“Aye. He’s calling every able-bodied man who can be spared to go South. We’re assembling at the Angle under Halbarad’s command.”
The next morning, Saerdan saddled his horse and turned south down the Greenway. It would take about two weeks to reach the Angle, assuming all went well. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of pounding hooves.
“I’m coming with you, Atto,” Firiel insisted, pulling her horse to a stop. She’d cut her dark hair as short as a man. A bow and quiver were slung over her shoulder and a sword hung from her belt.
“This is no simple patrol around Breeland, Firiel. The Company must pass through Dunland and the Gap which is held by Saruman’s forces…”
Firiel touched the eight-pointed star at her throat. “You and Amme prepared me for this. I swore the oath. I will follow my Chieftain’s orders and you have not the right to stop me.”
The pair galloped south with the wind at their heels.
IV. Siofran
Following her father and older brother into the wilds felt less of a leap of faith and more of the natural thing to do. Her life, well her mother’s side of the family’s life, formed a series of milestones: find ones place in the world, work, fall in love, start a family, work some more. It would end at old age, surrounded by one’s family and with the more responsible ones left in charge of the farm (or shop). Now, her entire future formed a nebulous web of possibilities, none of them easy or even pleasant. The only certainty was that she would do her duty until death as she swore to do all those years ago.
V. Golodir
They could not possibly want him, not after he killed everyone under his command. They told him not to shoulder all the blame. The orcs sprang from a hidden passage in the rocks without warning. Every member of the small company understood the risks, they told him. They did not know how it felt, lying at the bottom of a cliff with their vision turning black and the smell of blood. The pain, the desperation, and the silence accusing him. He lived and they died.
The message crumpled in his fist. He dropped it into the flames and watched it curl into black. For a brief, half moment, the words flared orange. He would live. Oh, he would live, if only just to tear out the Enemy’s heart.
Crowned with a radiant garland
The Silmarillion, Galadriel/Celeborn, G
written for the @tolkiensecretartexchange! this is for @carnetdesipho, who had some great requests in her wish list but I’m Galadriel/Celeborn trash so I went with that one. shout-out to @tosquinha because I stalked her Galadriel and Celeborn tags to stay inspired.
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@samwise-po-tay-toe-gamgee happy holidays from your secret Santa! :D
Have a sad sad Maedhros with Fingon after being rescued from Thangorodrim! Sorry for the delay, I’ve been having one hell of an art block lately ._. But at least I made it on time for New Years! (I also didn’t mean to make it sad, it being the holidays and all, but then the feels got me)
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to cry for these poor elves and all their kin.