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The sky is on fire.

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| "it is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life"

J.R.R Tolkien

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Doing the reread. @dfwbwfbbwfbwf: I think I have a solution to one of things you found weird: Melian did not remove the Girdle, or leave leading to the Girdle being removed! It just popped off when she was widowed! She "lost power over matter of Arda" when Thingollo died, because being married into the family material existence was the only reason she was able to do and keep the Girdle at all!

It's not my speculation, it's in the book. (Unless my reading comprehension it the Polish translation is really failing. Which sometimes happens.)

Now for some more speculative stuff (but still based on the text):

I guess that to do the Girdle now she would either have an explicit delegation of power from one of the Valar (impossible because lack of communication and general situation) or be evil. She was just not tied to the material world enough when she was widowed. (Yes, elves don't really die, but disembodied = not really married at the moment, sort of)

And quite possible not tied enough to the people of Doriath to rule them effectively. She only spoke to Mablung and left, and it feels like her way of thinking changed too, like... She would be as effective as a queen of Doriath, I suppose, as the Valar are effective at ruling Arda at their worst: she would not understand the Elves enough. By far.

Plus, the Ainur and ruling over a nation... Feels suspicious. She want supposed to do that, never did. Thingollo ruled them, she just gave advice.

Anyway she did not leave out of mourning. She mourned, yes, but she mourned both Thingollo and the fact that she had to leave Doriath. And the book gives a clear feeling of "she had to, that's How Things Work". (Might have something to do with Morgoth's power swirling all around too)

She didn't abandon them.

(if you want me to stop tagging you when I found something relevant, please tell me. I thought this knowledge might make you somewhat happy.)

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— Nicole Lyons

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Oh, little one. You have grown far too comfortable with my presence. Winter is coming and I truly hope you do not trust everything as much as you trust me.

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Alex Dimitrov, "Time", Love and Other Poems

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The trick is to purchase every single property you land on regardless of colour and then propose ridiculous bargains to those who desire a matching set.

The entire Tolkien Legendarium, except it's just Monopoly.

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The great hall of Menegroth.

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Reblog if it's okay to start talking to you.

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I'm curious. Reblog this if you know how to cook

I don’t even care if it’s macaroni, ramen or those little bowls you stick in the microwave. Please, I need reassurance that most of the population on tumblr WOULDN’T STARVE TO DEATH if their parents couldn’t fix them food or they couldn’t go out to eat. 

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The boy had been brought before me just before dusk. The sun having just begun its descent from its brightest point as the shadows of evening crept slowly past the borders of what was once known as the Great Greenwood.

He was fatally young; even when measured to the fleeting lifespan of men, his infant like face pale white, painted with the colours of battle, speckled with contrasting shades of brownish red and black. It was the Woodmen who had delivered him, stuttering and shaking, barely able to get a word out.

"My lord... your highness... great Elven King! My liege... ambushed. Orcs! I ran. He told me to run. Seek help under the canopy... Thranduil!"

He needed to be calmed. Not even the greatest puzzle masters could have made sense of the words that were tumbling out of his mouth. Such a feat is not easy; when your own fears are set alight, each tiny hair standing straight on end as the shadow of unrest creeps up on you from behind like a cloaked assassin. Thankfully, I still knew the words. Though the incantation was mostly used on animals, men were not a far cry away from being a four legged beast. As the ancient Sindarin words were uttered, the boy's breathing returned to normal, the trembling of his hands ceased and his tense shoulders began to slump.

"The beginning, child. Start from the beginning."

I listened closely to every word as the boy spoke of his predicament. He was the squire of Isildur's eldest son. Accompaning his lord as they journeyed to Imladris. The riding party had not been a secret. Every leader of every realm aware of the King’s journey and the path he was set to travel. If they were lucky, Elrond would be able to reason with the man and convince him to give up his prize and destroy it. At least on this matter, myself and the Lord of Imladris were keen to agree.

Why Isildur had been allowed to keep it, was beyond comprehension. Though tough and resourceful; men were weak of heart. Easily corrupted. Prone to make foolish choices and take unecessary risks. Harbringers of misfortune and calamity. Both of which had befallen Isildur before he could reach his destination.

The band of orcs had attacked them in the Gladden Fields. A bold move while they were being hunted like vermin in a granary. Such a scourge is difficult to purge however. Though we had done well to push them into the fringes of existence. Those that had survived the battle were unorganized, ill equipped and without any kind of leadership. No more dangerous than a pack of wolves during a particularly long winter. How an entire retinue of Dunedain had fallen to the brutes should have been an embarassment, but in the moment it was nothing but a grave concern.

Against all advice, I rode out myself, fully armoured and ready to fight, despite the fact I had barely recovered from the last one. Our speed and determination mattered not. We arrived too late to offer any kind of aid.

Bodies littered the field; both men and orc, cold enough to the touch that it seemed rather obvious the battle had ended just as quickly as it had begun. They had not been prepared and the boy had not been fast enough. There was nothing that could have been done.

A meticulous search of all the fallen lasted well into the night, yet the most important corpse could not be recovered, nor could the precious cargo he had been carrying. To call it a disaster would be an understatement. Two Kingdoms left without a King. His body unaccounted for. The Ring lost as quickly as it had been aqcuired. Although the Dark Lord had been vanquished, here he was still gaining feats.

"There is nothing to be concerned about" the White Wizard had spoken, his drawling voice echoing throughout the council chamber like a slowly spreading miasma. "The ring has not yet changed hands. I would know if it has. WE would know. Swept away by the swollen waters of the Anduin. I shall recover it myself and inform the council when it is found."

I never trusted him. A snake in Maiar costume. For months I watched him creep around the fields. Searching for that which was never found as darkness moved into the Greenwood, reaching further and further each time I dared to speak against him. Yet it still came as a great shock when I began to ignore the council summons. A legion of fools. That is what they were. Blind to that which they did not want to see. For who else but a fool would gaze upon a building storm and pretend as though the skies are clear?

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Just a friendly reminder that everyone is a slave to something. True perfection does not exist in this world and anything we deem close to it is nothing but subjectiveness.

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If someone constantly feels the need to remind you that they are your friend, it is very likely that they are in fact— not.

take a shot everytime annatar or celebrimbor say “friend”

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BROKE: elves never actually need to eat or sleep because they are perfect beings uwu

WOKE: elves can get by without eating or sleeping for extended periods because they are superior in body to mere mortals

BESPOKE: elves can survive without eating or sleeping for far longer than mortals, but it makes them incredibly stupid, and a good number of events in the Silmarillion can be attributed to somebody with a Fin-name being overtired and hangry

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OOC

Reblog if you are okay with people pestering your characters about literally anything

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HAH. There’s a damn good reason not everyone wanted one.

ANNATAR & DURIN IV THE LORD OF THE RINGS: Rings of Power — 2.06

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Not sure if anyone still does this— but here it goes.

This is a call to arms, to anyone interested in a partner of which to roleplay with set in the vibrant and extensive world of Tolkien’s Middle Earth.

A little bit about me? I am an adult. With a full time job in the medical field, a house to run and an active social life. My hobbies include: reading, gardening, working out, fishing, hiking and obsessing over fictional worlds and people that don’t actually exist.

I have been a literary roleplayer for well over a decade, write in third person and am more than capable of producing “novella” style replies and storylines.

Looking for anyone over the age of eighteen, who would be interested in exploring the unwritten events which happen in between the storylines of the books and films. Doriath. The second age. After the war of the ring. You can play a canon character which fits into the timeline or an OC. I absolutely love creative, diverse and well written ones. While I will write for Thranduil.

I obviously cannot be online all the time. Producing long multi paragraph, novel style replies several times a day or even once every day just isn’t realistic for me and my lifestyle. But I do enjoy out of character chat, idea swapping, sharing fanart and fanfiction and casual in character conversation.

Discord is preferred but not a requirement. Samples of my writing can be viewed on AO3 by request.

If interested, you know what to do.