Elthbe - Senza Titolo

Bro.

The Elves literally gave Manwë and Varda a ship name in the book of lost tales. A SHIP NAME. That's how cute a couple they are.

jrr tolkien: I write literally every kind of character jrrt: this is Beren, he's a wifeguy jrrt: Tom Bombadil, a total mystery but also a wifeguy jrrt: Treebeard, former wifeguy jrrt: Samwise Gamgee, future wifeguy jrrt:... jrrt: Turin Turambar, wifeguy gone terribly wrong

I'm generally very much supportive of different takes on characters in the Silmarillion because a lot of stuff is really vague and can be interpreted in a lot of ways.

However, it is wild to me that some people interpret Feanor as being on the same level (or worse) of villainy as Morgoth. Like, you guys do you, but to me, that is not a reasonable comparison. Feanor stole some boats, engaged in one potentially unintentional act of mass violence in the course of a confusing situation, and did one count of arson. Morgoth infused his evil will into the very heart/core/fabric of Arda so much so that it is still there even after both he and Sauron faced their ultimate defeats and it cannot be undone by any force in Arda other than Eru himself. Not to mention all the torture, slavery, manipulation, and murder he did for hundreds of years both before and after his initial imprisonment in Mandos. Like I'm not trying to absolve Feanor of his actions, but compared to Morgoth, they cast a far smaller shadow.

Feanor and Morgoth have one thing in common in the fact that they both stole something that was important to someone else and committed violence during the act of the theft. But honestly, given everything else Morgoth does in the course of the Silmarillion, I think it's pretty silly to put Feanor anywhere near Morgoth when it comes to villainy.

Family Happiness

Evening had fallen upon Tyrion, but Finwë's chambers were alive with light. The king listened with delight to young Macalaurë's new work, a quiet but surprisingly profound motif that spoke of longing for distant lands and the majesty of Aman. Finwë, now free to consider himself a musical expert, was immensely proud that his grandson could express his feelings so skilfully through melody.

Next to him sat Maitimo, the eldest of the grandchildren. He studied the map intently, tracing the winding lines of the roads with his finger. Plans and dreams of wanderlust stirred his thoughts, and Finwë smiled warmly at the eagerness in the eyes of a grandson who knew the world only through stories.

Finwë felt at the pinnacle of happiness. His son, Feanaro, had found someone who shared his passion and thoughts, and now, sitting on the terrace with Nerdanel, they quietly discussed plans for a new journey through Aman, where every corner held ancient wisdom and every stone held its secrets. They planned to visit places hidden even from prying eyes, ancient rock formations to which they were both drawn as craftsmen and creators.

But the king suspected there was more to these plans. Feanaro's eyes shone with the same brilliance as they had years ago when he first met Nerdanel. Though they discussed routes, Finwë noticed how their voices sometimes fell silent, and the same spark that ignited when someone dear to him was near.

As if chuckling to himself, Finwë wondered if he might soon have a new grandson.

Feanor: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Fingolfin: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks he can get away with everything, WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Feanor: I’m leaving and I’M TAKING ATAR WITH ME

Finarfin, picking up the board game: Aaaaaand that's enough Monopoly for today

Nerdanel, strong Nerdanel, young and curious. She travels alone throughout Valinor, to the edges of the light of the Trees. She sleeps on the fields under the stars, she eats what the land offers. She follows streams and wild beasts, she collects rocks and takes notes of the different types of mineral and stone, her drawings filling the pages of the little notebook she carries with her. She goes on foot, and her legs get strong and quick. She ascends the peaks, where the snow crunches under her boots, and running water carves shapes into the rock. She is on the summit of the Pelori, where the air is thinner and cold, and she can see the plains of Valinor stretch underneath her. She wonders if this is what Manwe feels like, if he feels the same exhilaration that she expereiences in her bones. She reaches the sea, she swims with the dolphins and imagines to fly with the seagulls, and her eyes are drawn to the dark sky far in the east. She wonders what had the Elves in Cuivenen seen, how they had lived in the dark, the stars their only guide. She feels observed, a kind presence that watches over her, and the stars look a little brighter as her voice raises in song to Varda. She stays there, at the fringes of the territories of the Eldar, mourning in her heart the day that she has to return home, under the bright light of the Trees - beautiful, but the stars are not as bright as they are here. She would like to take their light with her, to preserve that gentle and distant beauty. But she has to return at some point, she cannot wander forever.

One day, as she is making her way back home under the light of the Trees, she meets an ellon. He is tall and dark, but when he looks at her, his eyes shine brighter than Varda's creations. And Nerdanel knows that she will keep starlight with her forever.

I totally forgot to post the whole thing lol. These are my favorite main elves from the silm.

The older I get the more I realize my dream man is Tom Bombadil.