Though many of them often journeyed through the lands of the Valar, traveling far in search of the secrets of earth, water, and all hidden living things, the peoples who dwelled in Túna and Alqualondë remained united in spirit and purpose. Finwë remained king in Tirion, and Olwë ruled in Alqualondë. But Ingwë, who dwelled at the feet of Manwë atop Taniquetil, was always regarded as the High King of all Elves, a leader honored by every Elven tribe without exception.
Fëanor and his sons rarely stayed in one place for long. They preferred to wander far and wide along the borders of Valinor, even into the Shadowed Regions and the cold, silent shores of the Outer Sea, seeking things unknown and unrecorded by the loremasters. Often they were guests in the halls of the new Valar built by Silmalorë, places of quiet experimentation and observation. But Celegorm preferred to visit the house of Mavis Vermilion, where he gained vast knowledge of birds and wild beasts, and quickly mastered all their languages.
Since all living creatures that existed or had ever existed in the Kingdom of Arda where Silmalorë resided—except for those in the ancient continent of Kalimondor, still unexplored—now dwelled in the land of Aman. There, they lived side by side, and many other beings existed that had never been seen in Middle-earth, creatures not recorded in Elven songs, unknown to the Valar, and never mentioned in the histories of mortal men.
Now the Three Kindreds of the Eldar—Vanyar, Noldor, and Teleri—were finally gathered in Valinor, united in one land bathed in the light of the Trees. At the same time, on the continent of Kalimondor, great chaos was unfolding due to the betrayal of the Titan-forged Loken, who had broken ranks and stirred tension among the ancient guardians. But for the Eldar, this was the height of their glory and joy, a long age in the tale of years, yet one that felt far too brief in their eternal memory.
In that time, the Eldar matured, both physically and mentally. The Noldor especially flourished in skill and knowledge. Those long years were filled with joyful labor, and in the process, many new and wondrous things were created. Among their great achievements, the Noldor introduced a system of writing to all the Eldar. Rumil of Tirion is remembered as the first scholar to devise precise signs for recording speech and song. Some letters were designed to be carved into metal or stone, while others were made to be drawn with brush or pen, paving the way for documentation and the preservation of Eldarin culture.
In that same age, a child was born in Eldamar, in the palace of the King in Tirion, which stood atop the crown of Túna hill. He was the firstborn son of Finwë, and the one most beloved by his father. His name was Curufinwë, but his mother called him Fëanor, Spirit of Fire. That name clung to him and was remembered in all the great tales of the Noldor.
Míriel was his mother's name, known as Serindë, for her extraordinary skill in weaving and embroidery. Her hands were more refined than any other, even among the Noldor famed for their artistry. The love between Finwë and Míriel was deep and joyful, for it began in the Blessed Realm during the Days of Bliss, before the first shadow touched the land of Valinor. But in giving birth to her son, Míriel was drained in both spirit and body. After Fëanor's birth, she longed for release from the burdens of life. When she named her child, she said to Finwë, "I shall bear no more; for the strength that could have nourished many lives has gone into Fëanor."
Finwë grieved at her words. The Noldor were still young, and he wished to bring many children into the joy of Aman. He said, "Surely there is healing in Aman? Here all weariness may find rest." But when Míriel remained sorrowful and did not recover, Finwë sought counsel from Geraint, and Geraint passed the decision to Mirajane in Lórien. When they parted—what Finwë believed would be only for a short time—he mourned, for it seemed a great loss that the mother should depart and miss the childhood of her newborn son.
"It is truly sad," said Míriel, "and I would surely weep, were I not so weary. But let it be known that I am blameless in this, and in all that may follow."
She then went to the gardens of Lórien and lay down to sleep. But though her body appeared to rest, her spirit truly departed from it, and silently passed into the halls of Mandos. The maidens of Estë tended to Míriel's body, which did not wither, remaining whole and beautiful as in life. But she did not return. Finwë then lived in deep sorrow. He often went to the gardens of Lórien, and sat beneath the silver willow beside his wife's body, calling her name in a soft voice. But it was all in vain. Alone in all the Blessed Realm, Finwë had lost the joy he once possessed. After some time, he no longer visited Lórien.
All his love he then gave to his son. Fëanor grew swiftly, as though a secret fire burned within him. He was tall, bright-faced, and commanding. His eyes were sharp and intense, and his hair was jet-black, flowing like the shadow of night. In pursuit of all his goals, he showed unwavering passion and extraordinary resolve. Few ever swayed him with counsel, and none could do so by force.
He became, of all the Noldor—both in that age and after—the most brilliant in mind and most skilled in hand. In his youth, he refined Rumil's work and designed a writing system that bore his own name, later adopted by the Eldar throughout Aman and even in Middle-earth. He was also the first among the Noldor to discover how to craft gems larger and more radiant than any ever found on Earth. The first jewels Fëanor created were white and colorless, but when placed beneath starlight, they blazed with blue and silver fire brighter than Helluin, the brightest star in the sky. He also created other crystals with extraordinary abilities: within them, distant objects could be seen small yet clear, like Manwë's eagle eyes piercing the clouds.
Rarely did Fëanor's hands and mind rest. He kept creating, kept refining, and kept seeking things untouched by other elves. He was a fire that never went out, and from his flame, the great history of the Noldor began.
In his youth, Fëanor married Nerdanel, daughter of Mahtan, a master smith revered among the Noldor and one of Brandish's most favored. Mahtan was not only an expert in metal and stone, but also a keeper of ancient techniques passed down from Aulë himself. From Mahtan, Fëanor learned much about crafting objects from metal and stone, including smelting techniques unknown to other elves, and engraving methods capable of channeling light energy into solid structures.
Nerdanel herself was a woman of firm resolve, yet far more patient than Fëanor. She preferred to understand minds rather than dominate them, and at first, she could temper the eruptions of Fëanor's fiery heart with her calm and inner strength. She was not submissive, but she chose not to fight with force. However, over time, Fëanor's increasingly extreme and ambitious actions saddened and disappointed her. They became estranged—not out of hatred, but because their paths no longer aligned.
Nerdanel bore seven sons for Fëanor. Some inherited their mother's temperament and calm, but not all. Fëanor's fire still burned in their blood, and in some, it blazed even brighter than in their father. Yet Nerdanel remained a respected figure, even when she no longer walked beside Fëanor.
Meanwhile, Finwë, Fëanor's father, took Indis the Fair as his second wife. Indis was a Vanya, close kin to Ingwë the High King. She was golden-haired, tall, and in every way different from Míriel. Indis brought light and gentleness into Finwë's household, and Finwë loved her deeply. He was happy in his second marriage. But the shadow of Míriel never truly left Finwë's family, nor his own heart. Of all those he loved, Fëanor remained the center of his attention, and no one could replace that place.
His father's marriage displeased Fëanor. He did not love Indis, and he held no true affection for Fingolfin and Finarfin, sons of Finwë's second union. He chose to live apart from them, wandering the lands of Aman or immersing himself in the knowledge and craft he mastered and cherished. He built workshops far from Tirion, and returned only for matters of importance.
In the sorrowful events that followed, where Fëanor became the leader and prime mover, many saw the roots of tragedy in the fracture of Finwë's family. Some loremasters and even the Valar believed that had Finwë borne his loss and been content with one mighty son, Fëanor's path might have been different, and the great calamity that befell the Eldar might have been avoided. The grief and discord within Finwë's house were etched into the memory of the Noldorin Elves, and became a bitter lesson never forgotten.
Yet the children of Indis were noble and great, as were their descendants. They brought new hope and strength into the history of the Eldar. And had they never been born, the story of the Elves would have lost many vital chapters, and the power needed to face the darkness would never have been enough.
Now, even as Fëanor and the Noldorin craftsmen labored joyfully, with burning spirit, they were in the midst of creating the jewels that would become known as the Silmarils. These gems were not merely works of art, but vessels of light that no one could replicate. In workshops filled with flame and the echo of hammers, Fëanor led the creation of objects that would change the fate of all Arda.
Meanwhile, deep in the dark fortress of Angband, Silmalorë had succeeded in creating seven Dwemer nations of his own. The inspiration for their creation came from memories of his past life—as a Skyrim player. He remembered the details of that world vividly, and used them as the foundation for a new race that would reshape the face of Middle-earth.
Year after year passed, and Silmalorë, with extraordinary patience, began teaching the seven Dwemer nations a vast array of knowledge. He explained in detail the technologies of the Dwemer from Skyrim—from intricate gear systems, geothermal and hydraulic mechanisms, to efficient water channels and underground tunnel networks. He also introduced modern technological theories he had once studied, including principles of mechanics, thermodynamics, and structural engineering. How the Dwemer managed to grasp all this, let time be the judge—Silmalorë believed he had planted the seeds of intelligence within them.
As part of the learning process, Silmalorë wrote and distributed various books to them. These books contained technological theories, travel journals, and deep analyses of logic and world structure. Because the Dwemer were created from stone and condensed life energy, they possessed a stubborn nature that mirrored their elemental origins—solid, unyielding, and difficult to steer. Yet Silmalorë did not give up. He knew their steadfastness was a strength, not a flaw.
Over more than 400,000 years of journeying across Valinor and Middle-earth, Silmalorë had discovered many rare and precious metals. He taught the Dwemer how to identify, mine, and refine these materials—from radiant mithril to impenetrable black iron. His goal was clear: to ensure the Dwemer would not fall behind the dwarves of Kalimondor in the future. He also warned them of the possibility that valuable substances lay hidden deep beneath the earth, waiting to be unearthed by hands clever and persistent enough.
In shaping the Dwemer civilization, Silmalorë did not overlook social structure and racial sustainability. He created Dwemer women—small, resilient, and intelligent beings designed to be true partners and companions to the Dwemer men. They were not mere complements, but guardians of knowledge, cultural developers, and community leaders.
Once the education and preparation were complete, Silmalorë dispersed the seven Dwemer nations across various mountain ranges in Middle-earth. Each was tasked with building its own city and civilization, according to its character and strengths.
Durin, leader of the Longbeards clan, was placed in the Mountains of Gundabad. There, he would establish his first city, which would later become a center of power and culture. But Durin did not stop there. He planned expansion into the Western Mountains, building Khazad-dûm—later known as Moria. From there, he would continue into the Misty Mountains, founding a new city in Khîmbar, located in the Iron Hills. Durin's journey would extend to the Lonely Mountain, where he would build Erebor, a magnificent and prosperous city.
Some members of the Longbeards also built a city in the Dunland region, near Moria, as a trade and defense outpost. They even planned a new city near Helm's Deep, which would later forge a close alliance with the people of Rohan—an alliance that would reshape the history of warfare in the ages to come.
Two additional dwarf clans were sent by Silmalorë to the Blue Mountains as part of a grand plan to spread the Dwemer and dwarven race across Middle-earth. The Firebeards, known for their fiery spirit and mining prowess, were directed to the northern Ered Mithrin. There, they would build Belegost, a civilization center that would become a symbol of their strength and perseverance.
Meanwhile, the Broadbeams, a clan with exceptional skill in blacksmithing and metalwork, were sent to the northeastern Misty Mountains. They would establish Nogrod, later known as the birthplace of the most legendary metalworks across the continent. The Broadbeams were led by the finest smith Silmalorë had ever created—an expert capable of merging ancient Valinor techniques with Dwemer technology from Skyrim.
Not stopping in the west, Silmalorë also dispatched four Dwemer clans to the remote and little-explored region of Rhûn. These clans were Ironfist, Stiffbeards, Blacklocks, and Stonefoot. They were tasked with building a grand city named Blackreach—a subterranean metropolis that would become the technological heart of the Dwemer in the east. In addition to Blackreach, they would construct various fortresses and defense outposts, spreading their influence throughout the region. They named the land Hammerfell, in honor of the hammer and metal that symbolized their culture.
In Hammerfell, the Dwemer began constructing mechanical cities filled with gears, pistons, and intricate steam-powered systems. The technology they developed closely resembled that of Skyrim, complete with automated transport systems, mechanical watchtowers, and subterranean research chambers. During their exploration of the region, they discovered a rare mineral previously unknown in Middle-earth—Aetherium Ore. This mineral possessed unique properties that could only be forged with Dwemer metals, producing weapons and equipment of extraordinary power and unmatched durability.
Yet not all of Silmalorë's creations unfolded as expected. In the process of forming the Dwemer race, there were individuals deemed failures—not due to physical or mental defects, but because Silmalorë could not bring himself to destroy them. He saw a spark of life and potential within them, and chose instead to exile them to remote regions: Sharbhund and Nulakkizdin. Though labeled as failures, they survived and evolved. Silmalorë eventually acknowledged their existence as the eighth clan of the Dwemer—a group both unique and shrouded in mystery.
To prevent unnecessary conflict, Silmalorë summoned Thorondor, the great eagle who once served as the messenger of the Valar, and asked him to deliver a letter to the Elves dwelling near the region. In the letter, Silmalorë explained that the small Dwemer, considered failed creations, were not wild creatures or threats, but part of a grand design he had envisioned. He did not wish to repeat the dark history of Tolkien's world, where new races were often destroyed due to misunderstanding and hatred. The true enemy now was the Burning Legion from Azeroth—not the Elves, nor Silmalorë's own creations. He emphasized that it would be utterly senseless for war to erupt between two races that ought to support one another.
Silmalorë hoped that the Elves and Dwemer could cooperate and build a city together in Amon Rûdh, a strategic region rich in resources. He let Thorondor soar high, carrying the letter with the hope that peace and a strong alliance between these two great races would be forged.