So this is very self-indulgent, and is less a proper fusion or crossover of The Silmarillion and Voltron: Legendary Defender than it is the story of two characters brainstorming to create a fusion. Here’s the beginning where I don’t actually get to any of the Voltron elements (though I am trying to set the stage for the seeds). It’s almost all head-canons about style and clothing in Valinor, and the setting is a year or two at the start of the Second Age. I can’t believe this and not the Hangover pastiche is first of the Beren’s Band of the Red Hand sequel arcs of nothing but fluff fic.

…

Heledir stretched out on the plush carpet of the bookroom, shifting so that the fabric of his linen undershirt rode up and he could feel the thick carpet beneath the muscles of his stomach. Head nestled in the crook of his arm, he closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of leather, parchment, and ink. Also discernible if he concentrated was a faint perfume worn by the other occupant of the room, the eldest Noldor princess. Findis, firstborn daughter of High King Finwë and Queen Indis, reclined in a padded chair near the window, watching as Heledir lay prone before her. If he opened his eyes and tilted her head up, he could see her shoes and the hem of her gown. It was one of those new style gowns of pale cotton belted high just below the bustline with narrow sleeves and a low neckline, mimicking the styles of lost Beleriand. Findis’s gown had a decorative trim along the hem, and Heledir amused himself by trying to decode which pattern had been reproduced. Imitation Haladim, he decided, with the stylized acorns and oak leaves and the diagonal motifs. Fashion in Valmar was keen to mimic the mortal Edain these days, and some of the trends baffled Heledir. Powdering gray and white streaks into their hair was just as obnoxious and pretentious as the former fad in Tirion of bleaching blonde. He had yet to see anyone wearing false beards, though he and Edrahil had a good laugh over reports of such.

Findis’s slipper-clad foot shifted forward, and Heledir chuckled and rolled over. “Apologies, Princess. It is so quiet in here. This peacefulness is a delight after the press of the city.”

“That is why this sanctuary was built,” Findis replied, her voice husky and deep for a woman. Heledir found it pleasing. “Now do you wish to assist me today, or lounge around like an oversized cat? If I wanted their companionship, I would go to the library of Vairë across the street.”

Bands of colored light from the stained glass window played across Heledir’s face as he grinned. “I am awake, Princess. I was awake for hours last night. Still pouring through the backlist of your publications since we last visited.”

“Since you left for Beleriand with my brothers, sister, and nephews and then got all of yourselves killed. Yes, I was not as productive during that period as I could have been, especially during the deployment buildup, but during the fifty years of the War of Wrath I admit I needed something to distract me.”

“Those romances were well-written,” Heledir said. “The rich matchmaker, the one about the couple reuniting years after being persuaded to call off the betrothal.”

Findis arched an eyebrow at him. “I find it peculiar how you enjoy the love stories best of all.”

“Naturally,” Heledir said, waving his other hand up in the air where the colored light transformed his hand into a solid red, including the thin ring he wore on his first finger. “I am a champion for lovers.”

Princess Findis laughed at this, shaking the small writing desk beside her chair and knocking a blank sheet of paper to float across the room and land on the carpet.

“Your next series is to be illustrated for children?”

“Yes, a commission from my good-sister’s family. Another imaginary adventure tale, plenty of fights and memorable characters. Something colorful to take advantage of their dyes.”

“All of Anairë’s family’s scribes, they are Vanyar. They love brightly colored illustrations. Couldn’t care less about the synthetic jewels, but when Aulë’s students created bright dyes to paint their houses…”

“Homesick for Tirion’s plain white buildings already, Halatir?” Findis teased.

Heledir sighed. “When people describe Valmar, they draw attention to the hundreds of bells. They speak as if it is the most prominent feature. They speak not of the colors. Colors that do not belong together on one house.”

“Is not one of your companions a painter of rooms and houses, when he is not riding across all of Valinor delivering packages and messages? I have seen the inn he lives in.”

“Fân?”

“Yes, Fána. Fân. It is still strange to remember to call you by your Sindarin names. Forgive my lapses.”

Heledir smiled fondly. “It is impossible to resent you, Princess.”

“Many did,” Findis said, “and deeply so. And must I remind you that I gave you permission long ago to address me as Findis and not my title? You were not so formal as child, Heledir, when you and Finrod fetched books and gossip for me back in Tirion.” She stress their Sindarin names as she spoke, and her foot tapped against the floor in an unconscious gesture that spoke of her agitation.

“Fân has a Vanyar mother, and thus he plasters colors on his lodgings instead of what he wears. Still, he could not rival Egalmoth’s ostentation if he tried.”

Princess Findis, Daughter of Finwë and Indis, gave her companion a look with eyebrow arched stronger than before. Heledir’s position hindered the angle of his line of sight, but he knew the exact details of her expression. “Get off the floor, Heledir, or at least sit up while I speak with you. And where is your doublet?”

Lagourishly the elf stretched and rolled into a sitting position, then reached for the errant piece of paper. “I draped it over the back of the bench by the other window with my cloak and boots. Over a year and I still have not readjusted to the heat. Beleriand was a colder clime.”

Findis huffed and slide off her chair, tucking the skirt of her thin cotton gown demurely around her feet. “I shall not loom over you as we talk, Heledir. Now help me with new series.”

Eyes bright with excitement, Heledir accepted the outstretched pen. “What ideas have you so far, Princess Findis?”