
I’ve been thinking about the birds of Gondolin, which (instead of Earendel who came eventually too late) warned elves of Kor about sufferings of noldoli in the Great Lands.
andie, she/her, 26, united states. this blog is full of Tolkien. also other art, photos, fandoms, and big-eyes-emoji stuff, but mostly Tolkien. i tag! my girlfriend is bright ivanaskye, who is a lot, but not too much

I’ve been thinking about the birds of Gondolin, which (instead of Earendel who came eventually too late) warned elves of Kor about sufferings of noldoli in the Great Lands.

Here’s a better pic of the Kinslayer label art. I SPENT SO MANY HOURS PAINTING THE FIRE.
Dear lord, when I get to heaven
Please let me bring my man
When he comes tell me that you’ll let him in
Father tell me if you can.
– Lana Del Ray – Young and BeautifulAndreth & Aegnor
SO I WAS GOING TO TRY TO FIND A MORE COMPLEX SRS BSNS REASONABLY SUBTLE SONG BUT THEN I REMEMBERED THAT ONE POST WONDERING IF ANY OF ELROS’S CHILDREN COULD HAVE DIED EVEN BEFORE HE DID JUST LIKE ALL THE OTHER NUMENOREANS WHO STILL LIVED MUCH LESS THAN 500 YEARS SO JUST
I looked over Jordan, and what did I see?
(Coming for to carry me home)
A band of angels coming after me
(Coming for to carry me home)
If you get there before I do
(Coming for to carry me home)
Tell all of my friends, that I’m coming there too
(Coming for to carry me home)
I’m absurdly (meanly) tempted to say “If–” by Rudyard Kipling, but if specifically about bb Estel, it would be “Summertime” by George Gershwin, if it wasn’t so incredibly American ™:
Summertime, and the livin’ is easy
Fish are jumpin’ and the cotton is high
Oh, your daddy’s rich and your ma is good-lookin’
So hush, little baby, don’t you cry
One of these mornings you’re gonna rise up singing
Spread your wings and you’ll take to the sky
But till that morning, there ain’t nothin’ can harm you
With your mamma and daddy standin’ by
I guess it’s simultaneously way way way too on the nose and assumes some unrecorded-in-canon exchanges, but:
And oh, poor Atlas
The world’s a beast of a burden
You’ve been holding on a long time
And all this longing
And the ships are left to rust
That’s what the water gave us
So lay me down
Let the only sound
Be the overflow
Pockets full of stones
Florence + The Machine, “What The Water Gave Me”
(figured I’d post the prologue of one of my books here; it’s really good, I swear, and you can of course buy the whole thing if you want to read more…)
At this point, Tamar’s pretty sure: she’s not who any of her friends think she is.
That’s why she’s out here, miles downriver from the city. She hadn’t planned it this way, but today’s the first day all fall that there’s a breeze. Though a breeze isn’t much compared to the movement of air Tamar feels just from being on her motorcycle, rushing almost silently across the desert. She’s just far enough away from the river to not deal with the sand, but still close enough to hear the water, even though the river’s wide and the water moves slow.
She’d hope her hair would be short enough not to get horribly messed up by the moving air, but of course the two-inch strands are finding ways to tangle anyway; nothing ever seems to stop them. It’d be better if she had a helmet, maybe. But that wasn’t at the front of her mind or the top of her list when she left the house this morning and decided to come here.
The city of Ēnnuh’s already far enough behind her that she can’t see it anymore. That means she’s getting close to where she’s going. Oh God, she’s getting close.
Her goal is Erezel Plateau. Well, that’s not her goal exactly—just the physical location she thinks would be a good place to enact her actual goal.
Sapphira—not one of Tamar’s older friends but probably the one who knows her best by now, though not well enough to predict she’d do this—said it hadn’t been that hard for them to become one of the Holy. All you really have to do, they told Tamar some days ago, is tell God you want it.
This is excessively dumb but: send me a character relationship (romantic or non-romantic) and I will quote a passage from a song (or failing that, a poem) that fits them.
Notably, the entire song might not fit them at all, bc I don’t ‘know’ any ‘music’ but my verse selections work!! I promise! They will at least be funny.