Category: Russingon

There is mistletoe above their heads. Well, these foolish things mean nothing. It must be a twins’ trick, just an innocent joke. Young noldoran laughs shyly, and so his fire-haired cousin does. The evening dusk is cosy in the fireplace hall, dinner almost ended.

Of course it’s foolish. They need no mistletoe to kiss each other after the feast.

There is mistletoe above their heads. Well, these foolish things mean nothing. It must be a twins’ trick, just an innocent joke. Young noldoran laughs shyly, and so his fire-haired cousin does. The evening dusk is cosy in the fireplace hall, dinner almost ended.

Of course it’s foolish. They need no mistletoe to kiss each other after the feast.

Maedhros, Fingon 

© ALEF Club, Journey to The Middle-Earth Project

 Maedhros, Fingon 

© ALEF Club, Journey to The Middle-Earth Project

More art: ALES

More art: ALES

More art: ALES

Photo

Maedhros, Fingon

© ALEF Club, Journey to The Middle-Earth Project

Russandol’s body convulsed in uncontrollable spasms, his muscles tensing involuntarily with far more strength than he could ever have mustered by will; he almost threw Findekáno off-balance. His face was buried in the crook of Findekáno’s neck, teeth clamping down on the cloak in order to keep from screaming, but a high keening sound escaped his throat, chilling to the bone.© 
The tempered steel by Lyra

Maedhros, Fingon

© ALEF Club, Journey to The Middle-Earth Project