We all know Fëanor as “the guy obsessed with his Silmarils” but it’s quite something to remember that when he first discovered Morgoth had ransacked his house, he wasn’t even thinking about how the Silmarils were most likely stolen. He immediately searched the debris not for the jewels, but for his dad.

— Separation by W.S. Merwin (via wordsthat-speak)

Evening - Finwë/Míriel

//This is a belated Christmas present for highkingfinwe - just a little bit of fluff.

There was just the tiniest shift of air in Míriel’s sewing room. A tiny smile tugged at her lips as she continued to weave, her fingers working carefully in intricate patterns to add the tiniest details to the cloth. To all appearances she had no attention to spare for what might be going on around her.

But at the last possible moment, she said quite clearly with amusement in her voice, “And when did you plan to announce your presence, my lord?”

The High King of the Noldor stopped short with a very sheepish expression, and ran one hand through his hair with a wry laugh. “Do you ever miss what goes on around you?”

“Not when it comes to you,” she replied, setting down her shuttle and standing as she turned to him. “I always know when you are near me.”

“Perhaps I should stop trying to sneak up on you, then,” he said ruefully, resting his arms about her shoulders and drawing her in for a kiss, which she returned eagerly. This quite distracted him, and for some time he was rendered speechless. She couldn’t help laughing at the expression on his face when they eventually broke apart.

“Perhaps you should,” she replied, “but it’s so very entertaining to watch you try. I take it court has ended for the day?”

“Yes, and I was hoping to spend the rest of it with you. There’s nothing especially urgent for once.” Finwë eyed the loom. “Unless you have work to do?”

“Nothing I can’t come back to later.” She kissed him again and took his hand. “Did you have plans, or should we simply improvise?”

“As it so happens, I did,” he chuckled. “Our private garden is very pleasant at this time of day, and I thought perhaps it was time for something to eat.”

“Then I think perhaps you should hasten there, or you may find your share gone.” With a very girlish giggle, overtaken by a fit of mischief, Míriel raced out of the door and down towards the garden before Finwë had time to realise what she meant. He did have the advantage of height and speed, but held back deliberately to let her win, and caught her at the entrance to the garden, both of them flushed and laughing.

By the time they had settled on the grass and calmed down, both were in a thoroughly indulgent mood, and with the addition of a bottle of sweet wine they were quite happy to curl up together in the soft light of the Mingling and just sit in silence, neither King nor Queen but two joyful lovers in a rare moment of peace.

<3

First blood by Kaaile

Crying Finwë in Lorien by Maria Vyshedskaya

Quick portrait of King Finwe in the years of the trees.

Míriel Therindë by middleearthneedsdracology

Finwë Nolemë Noldorán

I drawn by Evankart

Finwe By middleearthneedsdracology

I have alreday posted Miriel, but I thought it would fit to post her again with Finwë because, well, they are sort of a serie. And like I said long ago, I should draw Indis too, and I am actually starting to consider it again. But don’t mention Finwë’s hair.

Hand of Silver

@feanorianweek day 6- Pityafinwë Ambarto and Telufinwë Ambarussa

Shoreline Procession

celegorm and curufin smileemoji

all seven of them :)