#‘no you don’t get the silmaril back’

[aniseandspearmint]

Oh, no PROBLEM, life happens, and I'm just glad you're doing better!

And it's never too late to pick fun things back up. I had to dig around for the notes i made for the next bit of this, and then re-read it over, because it HAS been a year! XD

SO, okay, a part 7!

YES, I am SO GLAD the way Frodo is NOT having a great or easy time came across! I’d hoped that would work! It can be hard, when your body changes and suddenly you’re not capable of the same stuff you were. I was trying to convey that kind of dysphoria.

Maedhros! Maedhros is HAVING A DAY. A good day! A MIRACULOUSLY GOOD DAY.

The kind of good day he can barely trust is REAL bc, lbr, he hasn’t really had a good day innnn. Um. Lets just say a long time. So this is the kind of day that has him covertly running mental checks just to make sure this is still reality. He keeps counting Maglor’s freckles and running his finger tips over his horse and her tack, and the tooling on his belt and faulds just to check that the things he’s seeing, and sensations he feels match up right.

He can at least throw himself into logistics a bit here, first in chivying all the escaped thralls our Intrepid (and exhausted) Heroes have been herding to safety in Himring.

Then he corrals Celegorm and Curufin. (This ended up mostly dialogue!)

Maedhros: *stares pointedly*

C&C: Err.

Maedhros: *calm and measured* I have heard what you’ve been up to in Nargothrond, brothers. Rest assured, I WILL be taking that out of your hides later. For now though *points at the crowd of people filling the hall behind them* Exactly WHAT happened to do THAT?

Curufin: Honestly we don’t KNOW, Nelyo!

Celegorm: When we caught up to them, Finrod, Beren, Luthien, Huan, Tyelpe and that Annatar ner were already gone off to Angband, leaving Finrod’s steward and Frodo to hold the camp.

Maedhros: *blinks* Frodo? Who? And what kind of a name is that? (Note: Frodo is WESTRON it’s gotta sound SO WEIRD to the elves tbh. He’s definitely gonna get slapped with a proper elven name at some point here. Elves gotta give people extra names after all especially in the first age)

C&C: *baffled kind of shrugs*

Curufin: *glowers* The boy is SOMEWHERE in the crowd. He’s remarkably cagey for a boy who can’t be more than 80, and I haven’t been able to corner Tyelpe about him yet, but he rather looks REMARKABLY like that Annatar. And Mother. And Grandfather. (Note: Frodo probably doesn’t look quite like a teenager really, but he’s so coltish in his new body, that’s coming across as youth to the elves that see him)

Maedhros blinks at that. Well. He never thought Tyelpe the sort, but, well, Curufin had been a bit smothering since they’d come to Beleriand. He’s thought Tyelpe was weathering it with more grace and patience than was usually found in their line, but maybe he’d just decided to go around his father? He wouldn’t be the first in the family for that. (Note: yesss Mae, make some logical conclusions with the info you have! Compare him to you and Finno a bit! You’re VERY wrong but it’s still a good guess!)

Celegorm: He’s got one of Tyelpe’s hairclips. One of the ones father made.

Maedhros: *eyebrows* Interesting. But, at this moment, irrelevant. We can sort that out later. What else can you tell me?

Celegorm: A few hours after we got there, the whole ground heaved like a shaken table cloth. Then some hours after that, Tyelpe and everyone came out of the night leading that lot *waves a hand a the hall* Tyelpe had the silmarils.

Curufin: There wasn’t really TIME to stop and ask questions. We regrouped and lit out for Himring. Luthien is TERRIFYING by the way. She provided the bulk of the power, her and that Annatar. We pitched in too but them, us, Finrod, and Tyelpe have been cycling songs of power for- *blinks* How long has it been since Angband shook, Nelyo?

Maedhros: thirteen days and nights.

Curufin: *sputters*

Celegorm: Huh. No wonder I want to sleep for a week. I haven’t done a march like that since I was with The Hunt. *waves* Anyway, we talked to a few of the thralls, and from what few who were in the throne room said, Luthien walked in all lovely and enchanting, and sang with three voices. It put Morgoth out like a fussy toddler. And then the wolves and the orcs, and even the balrogs, everything evil, dropped where they stood as well. The orcs were dead. No one checked the balrogs. Then Luthien’s man climbed the throne and took the crown and passed it down to Tyelpe. Then he and Annatar left and came back with BLASTING powder and lined the place while Morgoth slept.

Maedhros: *wheezing incredulous laugh*

Curufin: Annatar said the dragons were UNDER the throne room Nelyo. All the eggs, all the breeding stock.

Maedhros: *squints* *head tilt* wait. *slow blink* How would he KNOW that? I didn’t know that, and I know Angband as well as any former thrall.

C&C: *exchanged uneasy glances*

Curufin: We’re not sure. Finrod and Tyelpe trust him though. And, there’s Frodo. *vague hand wave* We heard some snatches of conversation, but nothing that makes much sense.

Maedhros: Right. Where’s Maglor? Nevermind, I saw him with Luthien, I’ll get them, and find Finrod. You round up Tyelpe and this Annatar fellow, and bring them up to my study. See if you can find the Frodo lad you mentioned.

Maedhros needs to corral all the important people ASAP and GET SOME ANSWERS.

He’s able to locate Maglor being charming at Luthien and Beren fairly quickly. Whereas Celegorm and Curufin look as if they’ve been on a hard march for days, Luthien, apart from the general grime of travel in the wilds, looks fresh as a daisy in may. Exactly how much power does she HAVE?? Never mind, one thing at a time. She and Beren graciously accept an invitation to a more private area. They’ve eaten and washed a bit, same as the throng of ex-thralls, but it’s VERY crowded. And They want to talk to Tyelpe, Finrod, Frodo, and Annatar too. They know more than Maedhros! But there wasn’t a LOT of time for other questions after establishing that there was some kind of time travel going on!

Tyelpe and Annatar aren’t hard to locate either. They knew this was coming. A quick wash up and food, and maybe a change of clothes, and it’s on to the Next Thing.

Note: oh. Huh. I didn’t think of it before, but I wonder what Annatar and Frodo are WEARING??? Some casual Valinorin clothes? I bet they were NOT dressed for getting dropped in the past! If it was just like, vibes based, maybe some clothes Annatar thinks of as ‘comfy’ rather than anything either of them might have been wearing before they were dropped into the past, since their bodies were created for this unlike Tyelpe or Finrod!

Annatar reluctantly taps on Frodo’s mind, and tells him Maedhros is collecting them.

Frodo, by this point, is not crying anymore, but is the kind of wrung out EXHAUSTED, that only days and days of rough travel and then a fierce crying jag will make you. Finrod almost offers to carry him, but Frodo just sets his mouth and gets up off the stone floor, doggedly putting one foot in front of the other and plodding along next to Finrod, who directs him around the crowd and into the keep proper.

Maedhros was somehow NOT expecting this Frodo child to look as much like family as Curufin and Celegorm insisted, but oh dear, if anything they understated it. He looks VERY much like the elf called Annatar. The hair, the skin, the eyes, but the other features. They were right, and Maedhros can see little echoes of his kin all over him.

He’s also swaying where he stands next to Finrod, with red eyes and tear tracks through the wilderness grime on his face. (Remember, Frodo skipped the wash up and clothes change area. Finrod too. I’m sure once they get through the first awkward conversation, someone will get them each a basin and some clean clothes!)

Maedhros makes eye contact with Finrod and jerks his chin at the soft couch set before the fireplace. Finrod takes the hint, and leads the young ner that is, in all likelihood Maedhros’s grand-nephew over and gently pushes him down on it.

Maedhros turns his attention to Tyelpe, and also Annatar. Tyelpe steps around Maedhros, and slings the crown off his torso and sets it down on Maedhros’s desk where it thuds down with a surprisingly light thump for a thing wrought of iron and misery.

Maedhros: So. Explain. Lady? This seems to have started with you?

Luthien shrugs gracefully, and sets herself down in Maedhros’s towering armchair before the fire and tells her part of the story. It is, thankfully, lacking the canon bits of C&C capturing her and being creepy assholes! Because Tyelpe stole Huan and met up with her before that could happen here!

When she’s finished with her part, with input from Beren, and Finrod, Maedhros turns and raises his eyebrows at his nephew.

Some very speaking looks are exchanged rapidly between Finrod and Tyelpe and Annatar and Frodo.

Finally Tyelpe just shrugs helplessly.

Tyelpe: Uncle, we have NO IDEA. One minute we’re in Fourth Age Tirion, the next I’m in Nargothrond and Finrod is in Sauron’s Tower, and Annatar and Frodo are there too. And Frodo is an elf.

Maedhros. Blinks. And replays that. Nope. Still makes absolutely NO sense.

Maglor: … I’m sorry, what?

Tyelpe: We’ve done this before. It all went SO much worse. Annatar wasn’t there before, though, or Frodo.

Finrod: Well. Annatar sort of was. Why are there two of you now, by the way? That’s. Kind of alarming.

Annatar: When I spoke to the One, and was changed, I was FUNDAMENTALLY changed. To hazard a guess, when this… Event happened, I was too different to integrate with my former self. He is maiar, I am elven. I came to my senses, he’s still following his shining plan.

Frodo: And me?

Annatar: We share something of our spirits on a deep level. And since hobbits have not woken yet, and will not for many many years yet, I imagine this was the only way for you to have a form here and now.

Frodo: *watery chuckle* Oh. Yes I suppose that makes sense.

Please imagine Maedhros and Maglor and C&C ping-ponging back and forth here, COMPLETELY CONFUSED by this conversation. But desperately trying to add up the bits they’re hearing into some kind of coherent narrative. Maedhros is squinting at Annatar with sudden DEEP suspicion.

Maglor: I’m sorry, can we back up a bit here? Fourth Age VALINOR????

Tyelpe: *sighs* *sits down next to Frodo* We all might as well sit down, this is going to take a while.

^__^

HEY.

I had the most interesting dream after falling asleep switching between the latest chapter of The Horrowing and a time travel fix it in another fandom. I thought you might enjoy a brief summary?

Post fic canon Annatar, Finrod, Celebrimbor, and Frodo getting the most hilarious do over of the First Age.

Finrod and Celebrimbor got dropped in their past bodies, bc same souls. Which has Finrod JUST captured by Sauron, before any of his 10 have been munched.

Celebrimbor is of course having a surreal not quite panic attack in Nargothrond.

Annatar, well. Annatar is CHANGED. He is quite literally too different from what he once was for them to qualify as the same soul anymore. Which is gratifying. If inconvenient bc there are now TWO of him, Annatar and full on Sauron. But they're similar enough that Annatar was dropped very close to Sauron.

Frodo is an elf. Dream logic was that hobbits do not exist yet, and his soul has touches of Annatar and Aman. He looks disconcertingly like a mix of Annatar and Celebrimbor, and they are NOT thinking about that right now. Hopefully ever.

Most of the dream centered around all of them doing their best to set aside freak outs, while getting Finrod and his merry band (plus Beren) OUT of Sauron's grasp.

There was a FANTASTIC moment where on the way out, Sauron comes face to face and soul to soul with Annatar and he's just like;

Sauron: *jaw dropped fully horrified face* WHAT are YOU?!?!?

Annatar: *shoving elves behind him, nose in the air* Wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy. *uses Song to blast him through a wall while he's distracted*

The whole thing featured 10 other elves and Beren as a baffled peanut gallery.

Meanwhile Celebrimbor is weighing the pros and cons of just- drugging his uncles and shoving them in a back room somewhere where he can bolt the door. He thinks he can maybe get Huan to help if he explains?

It was SO much fun.

(hope you have a good day!)

Oh my god. This may be the best ask I've ever gotten, for so many reasons.

The fact that your subconscious was like "Yeah if Frodo's getting a new body it looks like Annatar For Some Reason"

The image of future!Annatar getting into a fight with Sauron in front of Finrod (probably happy about this development) and Beren and the other 10 (INCREDIBLY CONFUSED)

The fact that the dream was partially centered on everybody trying not to panic, which is in fact what the Harrowing is all about for a while

Absolutely incredible.

...I feel so bad for poor Celebrimbor dealing with Nargothrond all by himself while the others are off having adventures. I hope their next stop after the rescue is to swing by and pick him up. Also, I dearly want to know what Annatar has to say to Beren on the subject of his current Luthien-and-Thingol-and-Silmarils situation.

[inthehouseoffinwe]

Thingol, Luthien, and Dior’s claim to the silmaril bugs the living daylights outta me and I’m gonna break down why. This goes a bit beyond ownership laws.

Starting with basics. What are the silmarils? Gems created by Fëanor that hold the light of the Two Trees. Who in Beleriand saw the light of the trees and no doubt misses it like a limb? Are here in part to avenge their destruction? The Noldor.

The Sindar never went to Valinor. They might find the gems beautiful but that’s it. There’s no cultural or emotional connection to them beyond ‘pretty stone, look how awesome our princess was.’ There’s no appreciation for what they hold. No understanding that this stone is one of the *last* things that holds the ancient light of the Trees.

The Noldor meanwhile not only saw the Light, they had entire festivals surrounding it. Grew their entire culture, their lives, under and around it. Now the trees are destroyed, their king killed defending these jewels. And this last beacon of hope, a piece of the home they can never return to, a piece of light that will never come back, is being kept by people who can’t even begin to understand the significance of what they keep.

Now imagine being the sons of the one who made this jewel from a culture of people who value craft above all else.

Not only is it light, it’s the result of years of toil and experimentation of your father, the one who managed to do what no one had ever even thought of. Fëanor’s sons would have been the first to see these jewels, probably saw him make prototypes, work equations whilst they worked on their own crafts. Provided what relief they could to his ever working mind and inadvertently gave him ideas that helped solve problems he encountered along the way. Suddenly it’s not only a key part of their culture, it’s something core to their family.

Then Fëanor is killed and in many ways it’s the most important thing they have left of their father. Now it’s a source of memory too, for someone doomed to the Halls for eternity. Who they’ll likely never see again unless they’re killed.

Now from what I’ve heard, Tolkien says the Fëanorions lost their right to the Silmarils when they killed for them. Which makes no sense considering the Silmarils were *created* by Fëanor. Yes the light was created by the Valar, but what, you’re gonna say ‘I created electricity so that lightbulb you made is actually mine.’ That’s not how it works. Fëanor made the casing for the stones and figured out how to hold the light, without aid from the Valar. It doesn’t matter what actions they take, the right to the Silmarils remain theirs and theirs alone. The jewels hold no power of their own, they’re literally objects. Healing objects at most. Morals do not dictate their ownership, hallowed or not.

Tolkien going on to say the right of Doriath’s Silmaril actually goes to Beren and Luthien for taking it from Morgoth gives me frankly coloniser vibes.

‘Oh this thing I stole was originally stolen from you? Too bad. I took it so it’s mine now. Don’t care how important it is to you, your entire culture, and your people.’

Get where I’m coming from?

All in all the whole situation gives me Bad Vibes and I really don’t like the attitude the Sindar have to the Silmaril. In terms of Elwing, I can partly forgive her purely based on trauma response. Fine. Doesn’t make it right, but I understand. But that never would’ve been a problem if her father, grandmother, or great grandfather had the sense to acknowledge the silmaril was never theirs to keep. Don’t like the Fëanorions, (too bad) at least give it back to the Noldor.

[neyafromfrance95]

I don’t know if this has been talked about already, but on my rewatch of S1, I noticed that, in the episode Sauron and Galadriel first meet on the raft (1x02) Celebrimbor tells Elrond about the beauty of the silmarils and how it affected Morgoth:

“They say that Morgoth found the Silmarils so beautiful that after he'd stolen them, for weeks, he could do nothing but stare into their depths. It was only after one of his tears fell upon the jewels and he was faced with the evil of his own reflection that the reverie was finally broken. From that moment, he... he looked upon their light no more. Feanor's work nearly turned the heart of the Great Foe himself.”

In 1x01, Arondir also tells Bronwyn that “Beauty Has Great Power To Heal The Soul.”

Can these quotes somehow explain why Sauron looked so flabbergasted at Galadriel (2x01)? We know Fëanor was inspired by how the light reflected on Gal’s hair to create the Silmarils, so there is a connection there. Sauron didn’t exactly “stole” Galadriel, but we do see him staring at her for weeks, even in the background. I think they went with the “repented Sauron” in the first episodes, but then he return to evil because of his bounds to Morgoth (“Sauron in truth repented, if only out of fear, being dismayed by the fall of Morgoth and the great wrath of the Lords of the West (…) he hid himself in Middle-Earth; fell back into evil, for the bonds that Morgoth had laid upon him were very strong” - The Silmarillion). And many people have noticed that Galadriel could have helped Sauron stay “in the right path” (and he himself might have believed this for a while).

Thoughts?

i love you big brain pattern detecting anon! that's such a good catch! can't believe how much detail and thought is put into this dynamic and i think you have figured out what was up with sauron's flabbergasted stare, it fits into the puzzle with the other lines you mentioned perfectly!

the observation you made also explains why he saved her, risking his own form that he regained at least, after just having abandoned the old man to die!

from the battlefield to Ost-in-Edhil, he keeps looking for her and calling her. it's not a stretch to say that he is obsessed/fixated on her.

and yes, i think it's clear that sauron was genuinely regretful for having a hand in something that caused galadriel pain, just look at his expression when he hears her confession and apologizes for everything! he didn't apologize as halbrand, he apologized as sauron!

maybe he believed that if she stayed with him, he'd be good for the middle-earth bc he wanted to be good to her (would that really happen? probs not bc galadriel is more susceptible to the darkness than sauron is open to the light). but then she rejected him and he just cared to achieve his goal, not caring about how he'd get there. and yet! yet he ever so groped for her and her thought, his fixation never went away, the devil got bewitched for eternity!

[sweetteaanddragons]

Happy Thanksgiving! In celebration, have an awkward family dinner scene from my current WIP.

“You know,” Earwen said, taking a careful sip of her wine, “you could petition the Valar.”

This was not a new concept. It had not been tried recently, but Nerdanel still had to pause in her meal for a moment to poke at just why Earwen was presenting it so cautiously.

“On what grounds?” She had certainly tried everything she could think of.

“Precedence, mainly. It is not so different from the case of Finwe and Miriel.”

Arafinwe sat with his fork half frozen between his plate and his mouth. Nerdanel felt half frozen herself, trying to understand. How could the statute of Finwe and Miriel possibly be similar to her own case?

“I know you might not have anyone in mind now,” Earwen continued, “but it might help to already have your right established.”

Her right. Her right to -

To do what everyone had been so insistent she do.

Get up. 

Smile.

Move on.

She could get up. She could smile. She could - move.

But to move on? To take someone else in his place?

She was furious with him. Incandescently so. She wanted to claw out those clever, unsatisfied eyes. She wanted to bite out his beautiful, poisonous tongue. She wanted to pour molten rock over him and let it settle around him until he could never move from its confines again.

But to move on? To take someone else?

She imagined someone coming to Feanaro after his vaults had been torn open and telling him it was alright, really, that the Silmarils were gone; look, they had all these pieces of lovely shattered glass, and he was welcome to take his pick between them.

“I could remarry, you mean,” she said, and Feanaro would have known that just because her voice was still, it did not mean she said it calmly. “Have children again, even.”

“If you liked,” Earwen said, though her own voice was careful now.

Nerdanel sipped her wine. “I do not know why you do not take your own advice. You would not even have to appeal to the Valar for it; no one would have the slightest right to object to you and Arafinwe having another child. Then it wouldn’t matter that Aegnor is never going to come out of the Halls.”

Earwen’s face went white.

“Excuse me,” Nerdanel said and left.

. . .

She was already packed by the time Arafinwe came to her room. She had steadied by then, though not calmed.

“She meant well, and I did not,” she conceded without looking up from securing the last of her things. “I won’t trouble you till I’ve thought up a proper apology.”

Everyone remembered that she had fought with Feanaro. No one ever seemed to remember that if it had just been Feanaro raging, it would not have been a fight.

“Please don’t leave,” Arafinwe said wearily, leaning against the door. “We’ve had quite enough of that.”

“It’s what I do,” she said shortly. Hear something horrible. Say something horrible. Leave.

Not come back until it was too late, and he had already sworn that stupid Oath.

He scrubbed a hand across his face. “As your apology to me,” he clarified, “please at least wait until morning.”

She paused.

He looked so very tired.

“Alright,” she conceded. She sank down on top of her bags. “Do you think I should move on?”

It was poking at a bruise for no good reason. Her answer wouldn’t change for him. 

But she wanted to know just how long she should take to come up with an apology.

“I have no right to tell you how to handle your personal affairs,” he said, and for a moment, he sounded like her king, gracefully holding himself to the limits of his power.

She scowled at him.

“No right,” he repeated. “And if you want to - to never make another statue of him and run off to join the choir in Alqualonde, I will be the last to tell you otherwise.”

“But?”

“But if you came back and told me you wished to remarry, I think I would offer you the crown of the Noldor not to,” he admitted. “As much as he would laugh to hear one of my mother’s children speak against it. Right now it is only the verdict of the Valar that he may never return, and the Valar have changed their minds before. If we should lock that door forever . . . “

It was probably immaterial anyway. The Valar had needed Miriel’s permission to allow Finwe’s remarriage; Feanaro, surely, would not give it.

Surely. Surely she still meant more to him than that.

She did not wish to bare that corner of her soul tonight, not even to Arafinwe. Instead, she confessed to an easier thing.

“When I was pregnant with the twins,” she said, staring at the ceiling, “it was - difficult. More difficult than any of the other births had been. I had half lost myself by the end.”

“I remember,” he said softly.

That surprised her; she did not remember him from then at all, but she supposed that only supported her point. “I was convinced I was going to die, and I was in no state to think clearly about it. I swore to him over and over that I would come back, that the very moment Namo allowed it I would come back, that he would not need to be patient long.”

Some irrational part of her had been terrified that they would lie to him; that they would say she had refused the call of life while she was desperately pounding on Mandos’s walls.

When she had been saner, she had known the fearful fancies for what they were. But in the midst of them . . . 

“He kept promising that I wasn’t going to die, of course.” And he had been right about that, though it was the only one of their arguments that she would concede now. “But when that didn’t settle me, he told me that he believed me, and that if it took me a hundred thousand years to return, he would believe me still and wait.”

She had never doubted that promise. Even when they had burned everything else between them, she had believed that promise. In their worst moments, it had been because she was sure he would never concede any ground whatsoever to Indis’s marriage, but she had still believed it.

She hadn’t returned the promise. She hadn’t thought she would need to.

But now here she was, still standing, and the Valar promising that he would never, ever return.

It was not yet a hundred thousand years.

And when it had been, she would keep his promise in his stead and still wait.

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

'No, sir, of course not. Beren now, he never thought he was going to get that Silmaril from the Iron Crown in Thangorodrim, and yet he did, and that was a worse place and a blacker danger than ours. But that's a long tale, of course, and goes on past the happiness and into grief and beyond it – and the Silmaril went on and came to Eärendil. And why, sir, I never thought of that before! We've got – you've got some of the light of it in that star-glass that the Lady gave you! Why, to think of it, we're in the same tale still! It's going on. Don't the great tales never end?'

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers (The Lord of the Rings, #2)

The beauty of Tolkien: his story never ends, because great tales don’t.

Which means Galadriel and Sauron’s story doesn’t end with “Rings of Power” nor with “The Lord of the Rings”. Their story is, literally, eternal. And we don’t know the end of it. There are so many possibilities.

We only know that Galadriel goes back to Valinor, and Sauron is left diminished and weak (unable to rise to power ever again) after the One Ring is destroyed (he can’t die).

[nyxshadowhawk]

I Read The Silmarillion So You Don't Have To, Part Nine

Previous part.

Chapter 20: Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad In which Maedhros tries and fails to get the Elves to play nice, and then a battle goes very badly.

This chapter begins with a quick account of what happened to Beren and Lúthien. They are restored to life, and briefly check in on Lúthien’s parents in Menegroth. It had been eternal winter in the forest of Doriath since Lúthien died, but Lúthien brings spring with her. When Melian sees her daughter, it’s like seeing a ghost. Melian feels the most horrible grief that anyone has ever felt in the history of the world, because Lúthien is mortal now. The Elves call Beren and Lúthien “The Dead that Live,” because there’s something deeply unnatural about coming back from the Halls of Mandos. All the Elves are unsettled by them, so Beren and Lúthien go off on their own, into the east of Beleriand. They have a son, Dior Aranel, but beyond that, the Elves never hear of them again. Presumably they live out their natural lives, but no one knows when they died or where they’re buried

That’s the end of that story! Now, let’s return to the Main Plot. Maedhros, the oldest of Fëanor’s sons (the one who lost a hand) has been thinking up new ways to fight Morgoth. Fingolfin proved that Morgoth is not invincible — he can be hurt, so maybe he can be killed, or at least incapacitated enough to stop causing trouble. However, the Noldor don’t stand a chance unless they can band together and fight Morgoth as a unified front. Maedhros tries to call all the Elves together in a council.

Maedhros by @kazz-art

(Fun fact: According to a YouTube video called “Types of Lord of the Rings Fans” by Generic Entertainment, “Maedhros” is composed of Sindarin words meaning “shapely” and “red-haired,” so it basically means “hot ginger.”)

Of course, the problem is that the Elves have never been unified, and they’re not about to start now. Fëanor’s sons (save Maedhros himself) hate basically everybody, and their shenanigans have burned too many bridges:

Orodreth is now king of Nargothrond after Finrod died, and he says that he’s never going to trust a son of Fëanor ever again. After Celegorm and Curufin’s attempted coup, who can blame him? A small group from Nargothrond, led by an Elf named Gwindor, come to aid Maedhros — but they go behind the king’s back.

Doriath is even more of a lost cause. King Thingol now has a Silmaril, and you know what that means — all of Fëanor’s sons (including Maedhros) are his enemies by default. Melian advises Thingol to surrender the Silmaril, just… y’know… to take that problem off their hands. But Thingol is offended by the Fëanorians’ arrogance, and he’s still very mad at Celegorm and Curufin for trying to steal his daughter. The Silmarils are also kind of like the One Ring, in that anyone who looks at them becomes obsessive and wants to keep them. So, instead of actually listening to his wife for once, Thingol sends the Fëanorians a note that says the Elvish equivalent of “come at me, bro.”

Maedhros carefully ignores Thingol’s threat, because he’s really trying to get everyone to work together. But those two assholes Celegorm and Curufin send Thingol a declaration of war. Thingol fortifies his kingdom and then just stays there, because his solution to everything is to isolate himself behind a magic wall and hope the danger doesn’t touch him. (That worked when Morgoth was a general threat to everybody, but not so much when other Elves want to kill Thingol specifically.) Thingol’s right-hand men, Mablung and Beleg, want no part in whatever shit is inevitably going to go down between Thingol and Fëanor’s sons. So, they’re given permission to leave Doriath (provided they don’t go to serve any of Fëanor’s sons). They go to Hithlum to serve Fingon, and then after that, no one enters or leaves Doriath.

(I know, I know, I already used it!)

But Maedhros has a few unexpected sources of help. He manages to enlist the Dwarves, who have lots of weapons and the means to make them, and he also has the Men on his side. All of them want Morgoth gone as much as anybody (and they haven’t been given any reason to hate Fëanor’s sons yet). Maedhros also has Fingon’s support, because Fingon still loves Maedhros as much as he did back when he rescued Maedhros from the cliff face.

The Night before Nirnaeth Arnoediad, by @pansen1802

The only faction that remains unaccounted for is Gondolin, because it’s the only kingdom that’s even more isolated than Doriath. News of Maedhros’ attempt at unity reaches Gondolin, but King Turgon still refuses to do anything.

Maedhros’ force is smaller than he’d hoped, but better than nothing. It’s enough to get rid of most of the Orcs in northern Beleriand, and it might be enough to try assaulting Angband yet again. Maybe this time it’ll work! Unfortunately, Morgoth knew they were coming. Before the battle even starts, Maedhros’ and co.’s chances are looking bleak. But at the last minute, the cavalry comes! Turgon finally decided to actually do something, and sent a host of ten thousand Elves from Gondolin to help. Fingon is overjoyed to have seen the first sign of his brother’s existence for centuries. He sends up a battle cry in Quenya. Morale is good! There’s a nice moment in which Fingon and Turgon briefly reunite on the battlefield.

The Battle of Unnumbered Tears, by Mysilvergreen

Unfortunately, it’s all downhill from there. This battle is called Nirnaeth Arnoediad, “the Battle of Unnumbered Tears,” so that should tell you everything you need to know. Fingon’s host retreats, the Men from the Forest of Brethil are nearly wiped out, and then there’s betrayal. This whole time, Morgoth had been trying to wage a psychological battle amongst the Elves and Men, sewing distrust amongst them and making it even harder for Maedhros to get them to come together. “Divide and conquer” has worked well in the past, and it works again here. A man named Ulfang and his sons suddenly turn against Maedhros. Maedhros’ host is cornered, and they’re forced to retreat.

The most steadfast fighting force in the battle turns out to be the Dwarves. If it weren’t for them, the Elves and Men would have been annihilated by Glaurung and the other dragons. A Dwarven lord named Azaghâl manages to stab Glaurung in the underbelly, which wounds him, but doesn’t kill him.

Finally, Gothmog, the Lord of Balrogs, comes out of Angband. He corners Fingon with another Balrog. Fingon fights valiantly, but no one can hold out against the Lord of Balrogs for long. Gothmog cuts Fingon in half with a greataxe. The Elves say that a white flame burst from Fingon’s helmet as it was cloven.

The Final Battle in Unnumbered Tears by breath-art

The battle’s basically over after that. Turgon holds out with the brothers Húrin and Huor to ensure that Morgoth doesn’t win the Pass of Sirion and take control of the river. Húrin tells Turgon to flee, because he’s the last hope for the Elves’ survival. But Turgon recognizes that by sending help, he revealed to Morgoth that Gondolin exists. It won’t take him long to find Gondolin and destroy it. Húrin tells Turgon that Gondolin will still be a beacon of hope for however long it continues to last, and says goodbye, knowing that they won’t see each other again.

Maeglin, Turgon’s nephew (the edgy Elf) is fighting nearby. He hears Húrin say that Gondolin is a beacon of hope, tucks it away in his mind, and says nothing. Ominous.

Turgon retreats, but the Men remain to hold the pass. Tolkien writes that, of all the deeds of Men that were performed for the sake of Elves, this is the most renowned. Some Men betray the Elves, but most of the Men continue to fight for them. Huor and all of the other Men die; Húrin is the last man standing. Húrin yells “Day shall come again!” every time he kills a monster, but the Orcs just keep coming, and they continue to fight him even after he cuts off their arms.

Exactly like this.

Eventually, Húrin is captured alive.

Morgoth is very pleased with himself for having engineered a betrayal. The Elves no longer completely trust the Men, except for the Three Houses that became their friends. Now that Fingon is dead, his realm of Hithlum is completely destroyed. The remaining Noldor of Hithlum (and there aren’t many) scatter, and join the Wood Elves of the East. Living in forests and using guerilla tactics are way less noble than having cities and fighting in armies. The Haladin, the Men of the Forest of Brethil, are also greatly reduced. They never see any member of their host again, or learn what happened to them. Morgoth shuts the treacherous Men in what’s left of Hithlum, forbidding them to leave it, which pisses them off because they wanted to rule Beleriand. Welp, that’s what you get for being a traitor.

One of the only safe places left in Beleriand is the Havens at the mouth of the River Sirion, but Morgoth is eventually able to ransack the Havens using machines with engines (remember, Tolkien thinks industrialization is evil). A handful of Elves, led by Círdan and Gil-galad, manage to escape by sea. They keep a foothold at the mouths of Sirion, but for the most part, Morgoth controls the river.

The situation is so dire that Turgon reaches out to Círdan from Gondolin. He wants to again try to send messengers across the sea to Valinor. Círdan builds ships and sends them west, but again, none of them return… except one. That ship turned back, and sank in a storm within sight of Middle-earth’s coast. One Elf from that ship survives, and he’s ferried to shore by Ulmo, the Vala of Water himself

Although Morgoth won decisively, he’s still not happy -- he wants to capture Turgon, and has no idea where he is. Turgon is the last remaining son of Fingolfin, and therefore the rightful High King of the Noldor. Morgoth’s hatred of the House of Fingolfin is personal, because Fingolfin wounded him, and because they’re friends with Ulmo the Vala. Morgoth also got bad vibes from Turgon all the way back in Valinor. He intuited that Turgon was destined to help destroy him.

Morgoth knows that Húrin is friends with Turgon, and Húrin is his prisoner. He demands that Húrin tell him where Turgon is, but Húrin tells him where he can stick it. In response, Morgoth binds Húrin to a chair on top of Thangorodrim, and curses him and all of his offspring. Morgoth tells Húrin that despair and sorrow will come to everyone he loves. To stick the knife in and twist it, Morgoth gives Húrin a taste of his own power to see the future, and forces him to remain sitting in that chair until all of his family have met their doom. Húrin does not beg for mercy for himself or any of his kin. He won’t give Morgoth the satisfaction.

Morgoth punishes Húrin by Ted Nasmith

As a final insult, Morgoth has the Orcs build a giant mount of bodies in the middle of the battlefield. The Elves call it the Hill of the Slain and the Hill of Tears. But after a while, grass and flowers grow on the bodies of the dead.

The Hill of the Slain by Ted Nasmith

Chapter 21: Of Túrin Turambar, Part 1. In which our angsty tragic hero tries to outrun his curse, kills people he shouldn’t, sleeps with people he shouldn’t, and fights a dragon.

This is the second of the Great Tales, also called “The Children of Húrin.” I’ve heard that this is one of the most tragic stories in the entire Tolkien Legendarium (which is saying a lot), so brace yourselves! This is going to be another two-parter, because I ran out of space.

Instead of jumping right into the story, Tolkien gives us an account of what happened to Húrin and Huor’s wives, Morwen and R��an. Rían is dead. Huor and Rían’s son is Tuor, and Húrin and Morwen’s son is Túrin. Húrin and Morwen also had a daughter, Lalaith, but she died of disease when she was three. After the battle, the Easterlings (evil Men working for Morgoth, they’re already called that) ransack Hithlum. They enslave everybody except Morwen, because she’s just so beautiful. They assume that she’s a witch, “in league with the Elves.” Despite their fear of her, Morwen decides that her son is not safe, and sends Túrin to Thingol. Morwen is Beren’s distant cousin, so she hopes that Thingol will take Túrin in. After Túrin is sent away, Morwen gives birth to a third child, a daughter named Nienor (which means “mourning.” That’s not ominous at all). Thingol accepts Túrin into his household, because he doesn’t hate Men as much as he used to, and raises him as his own son.

Germanic Fun Fact #1: It was actually a common practice in the early Middle Ages that noble children would be fostered by other families, and it shows up in fiction. For example, Beowulf was fostered by King Hrethel of the Geats, making him a de facto prince.

Túrin lives in Thingol’s court for nine years, and messengers occasionally bring him news of his mother and sister. One day, the messengers stop coming. Túrin puts on his ancestral family helmet, “the Dragon-helm of Dor-lómin,” and goes to battle alongside the king’s captains and the other Elves.

Túrin Turambar by Alan Lee

Túrin stays in the field for three more years, then returns to Menegroth. He looks dirty and unkempt because he’s been living in the wilderness for three years. One of the Elves of Thingol’s court, named Saeros, mocks Túrin for his wild appearance: “If this is what the Men look like, then do their women run like deer, wearing nothing but their hair?” In response, Túrin throws a goblet at Saeros, injuring him. The next day, they confront each other in the forest. Túrin defeats Saeros, and sends him running naked back to Menegroth, wearing nothing but his hair. Irony! As he flees, Saeros falls into a gorge and dies. Now Túrin is responsible for the death of one of Thingol’s courtiers. Oops.

Mablung, one of the king’s captains, advises Túrin to go back to Menegroth and beg Thingol for his pardon. Túrin decides to leave Doriath as an exile, but Thingol pardons him anyway.

He loved Túrin like a son, and would welcome him back if he decided to return. The king’s other captain, Beleg Cúthalion, loved Túrin just as much, and decides to go after him.

In the meantime, Túrin becomes the leader of a group of outlaws. And not the Robin Hood kind. He starts calling himself Neithan, which means “the Wronged.” (Thingol pardoned him, so he hasn’t been “wronged” at all. This is entirely his own fault.) After a year, Beleg finally finds Túrin’s outlaw lair. Túrin didn’t happen to be there at that moment, so the other thugs seized and bound Beleg, assuming that he was a spy from Thingol. When Túrin gets back, the sight of Beleg bound in his lair makes him suddenly repent of all his evil deeds, yada yada, and he swears to never again harm anyone besides Morgoth’s minions. Let's see if that promise lasts more than five minutes.

Beleg tries to convince Túrin to return to Doriath. He’s been pardoned, so he has no reason to hide out in the wilderness. Túrin is too proud to come crawling back, though. He tries to get Beleg to stay with him, but Beleg is tired of his nonsense and tells Túrin to find him on the front lines if he really wants to be with him. They go their separate ways. Túrin heads out towards Amon Rûdh (“Bald Hill”), a large hill overlooking the Forest of Brethil

Beleg returns to Menegroth and tells Thingol everything that happened (except for the part where he was tied up by Túrin’s thugs). Thingol just sighs and says, “What more would Túrin have me do?” Túrin is a hotheaded teenager who ran away from home, leaving his adoptive parents exasperated. Beleg offers to follow Túrin and protect him from a distance. Thingol gives him leave to go, and as a reward for his service, offers him anything he wants. Beleg asks for a fine sword. The king offers him any sword in his armory, save his own. Beleg chooses a sword called Anglachel, made from a meteorite. (Space Sword!) That means that its blade is ominously jet-black. It’s one of two swords made from the same meteorite by Ëol, the Elf of the Dark Forest. (Remember him? He was Aradhel’s abusive husband, and followed her to Gondolin, where he was killed by being thrown from its walls.) Thingol got one of the meteorite swords as payment for letting Ëol live on his land. Ëol’s son Maeglin has the other one.

Anglachel by Elena Kukanova (Thingol is portrayed with blonde hair here.)

As Thingol presents Beleg with the sword, Queen Melian stops to say that the sword “has malice in it.” If you haven’t noticed by now, any work of craftsmanship in Tolkien’s world is imbued, to at least some extent, with the personality of its creator — the One Ring, the Silmarils, the swan ships, and the Two Trees themselves. This sword is no exception. It absorbed all the bad vibes from Ëol. Melian says that it will serve Beleg begrudgingly, and he’ll end up losing it.

In light of that, Melian decides to give Beleg another gift: lembas bread. In the First Age, Melian was the only person with the authority to give out lembas. The leaves it’s wrapped in are marked with her seal, a white flower of Telperion (the Silver Tree). Melian gives Beleg the lembas with the expectation that he will share it with Túrin, which is a big deal — it’s the first of the very few times that Elves have ever shared their waybread with Men. Beleg leaves with the gifts, and spends the winter keeping the Orc population in check. Once spring comes, and the Orcs are no longer an immediate threat, he goes off to find Túrin.

Germanic fun fact #2: Waybread (wegbræde) is actually the Old English name of a broadleaf plantain, a type of edible plant. Tolkien decided to make it into literal bread.

Meanwhile, Túrin and his gang come across three Dwarves. They capture one of them, and one of the Men, Andróg, shoots after the other two. The arrow goes into the dark, and the Men can’t see if it hit or not. The captured Dwarf’s name is Mîm, and he offers to show Túrin his secret cave in exchange for his life. Túrin pities him, and spares him. (Túrin kind of swings back and forth between doing evil things and then regretting it.) Mîm leads the Men up the slope of Amon Rûdh to his secret cave, which “will be” called the House of Ransom. There are red flowers all over the hill, and one of the Men remarks that it looks like there’s blood on the hilltop. That may as well be a massive ‘FORESHADOWING’ sign.

Mîm the Dwarf by Anke Eißmann

Inside the House of Ransom, Mîm shows the Men the body of his son Khîm (Dwarves really like rhyming names), who was shot and killed a few minutes ago. The arrow that Andróg shot into the dark killed Mîm’s son. Oops. What a way to guilt-trip the Men. Túrin feels horrible (you’d think after Saeros he’d learn not to be so reckless). He takes responsibility for Andróg’s arrow, and offers to pay Mîm a ransom of gold for his son. That validates the name of the House.

Germanic fun fact #3: A ransom paid as compensation for someone’s life is called weregild. This was a normal part of life in Germanic cultures. It was a way of preventing endless back-and-forth feuding between families. The gold guarded by the dragon Fafnir in Germanic mythology is weregild that the Norse gods themselves paid to a Dwarf for the murder of his son. (That story shows up in the Prose Edda and the Volsung Saga, parts of it are also in the Poetic Edda, and it’s referenced elsewhere.) Tolkien is definitely referencing that story here.

Mîm is impressed by Túrin’s speech, remarking that he sounds like an ancient dwarf lord, and forgives him to a point, saying that he doesn’t need to pay a ransom after all. He lets Túrin and co. stay in his house for as long as they need.

Now for a little bit of Dwarf history (we’ve had a lot of Elf history, so we need some Dwarf history): The Dwarves that live in the House of Ransom are called “Petty-Dwarves,” which means they’re less cool than other Dwarves. They were banished from the old Dwarf kingdoms in the Misty Mountains, and made their way west to Beleriand. They’ve slowly become shorter and less talented smiths, and they live in secrecy, which Tolkien thinks is ignoble. The Elves used to hunt them for sport, until the other groups of Dwarves showed up. So, the Petty-Dwarves hate Elves even more than they hate Orcs, and they especially hate the Noldor. The Petty-Dwarves originally discovered the caves of Nargothrond before Finrod took it over and forced them out. By now, the Petty-Dwarves have dwindled and basically lost all relevance. Mîm is one of the last and one of the oldest ones left.

In the harsh cold of winter, a hulking man arrives at Amon Rûdh. The Men all spring up to fight, but the man turns out to be Beleg Cúthalion. He only appeared to be a hulking brute because he was wearing a big backpack under his cloak. Beleg and Túrin have a heartwarming reunion, and Beleg gives Túrin his old ancestral treasure, the Dragon-helm of Dor-lómion. Beleg hopes that the helm will remind Túrin that he’s better than this, that he could be something more than an outlaw living in a hole. But it doesn’t sway Túrin at all.

The Dragon-helm of Dor-lómin by Elena Kukanova (This artist’s design of the helm is based on a real Anglo-Saxon helm found at Sutton Hoo.)

Against his better judgement, Beleg stays with Túrin, purely out of love for him. He becomes the team medic, and uses the lembas that Melian gave him to heal sick and injured members of Túrin’s company. (Lembas apparently has healing powers at this point in Elven history.) Mîm the Dwarf is not happy about having an Elf living in his House. Men are one thing, but as I said before, the Petty-Dwarves have every reason to hate Elves.

Meanwhile, Morgoth is still a problem. Túrin and Beleg go out hunting Orcs, and they’re so good at it that they become living legends. Their land becomes known as “The Land of the Bow and Helm,” referring to Beleg’s archery skills and Túrin’s fancy Dragon-helm. Túrin starts calling himself Gorthol (“Dread Helm”), which is a little pretentious. Even the isolated Gondolin has heard of them! Of course, Morgoth eventually hears of them too, and he immediately knows who the fearsome “Dread Helm” is — it’s that upstart kid from the cursed bloodline! He starts laughing, and presumably sits back with his popcorn to watch the shitshow.

Mîm and his son Ibun are promptly captured by Orcs when they go out to forage for the winter. Mîm uses the exact same tactic that he pulled when Túrin and co. captured him — he promises to lead the Orcs to his secret cave, selling out Túrin to the Orcs. To his credit, Mîm does make the Orcs promise not to kill Túrin, but that doesn’t make much of a difference.

The Orcs kill most of Túrin’s company in their sleep. The rest flee to the top of the hill, but most of them are run down and slain, so that their blood covers the top of the hill like the flowers did. The Orcs actually keep their promise not to kill Túrin, and drag him away. Mîm returns to his House to find a massacre, which he’s not too torn up about, because he’s finally rid of the squatters. Everyone’s dead except for Beleg, who is badly wounded on top of the hill. Mîm takes Beleg’s cursed sword and tries to kill him, but Beleg has enough strength left to catch the sword and push it back. Mîm runs like a coward, and Beleg calls after him that Túrin will one day have his vengeance.

Beleg is a strong Elf who knows healing magic, so he slowly recovers. He searches among the corpses for Túrin’s body, hoping to bury him. When he doesn’t find it, Beleg realizes that Túrin is alive, and goes out to look for him a third time. You’ve gotta admire his devotion to this kid who’s a magnet for trouble.

Beleg by kimberly80

Beleg follows the Orcs’ trail all the way to Taur-nu-Fuin, the Forest under Nightshade in the north near Angband. It’s a dark and scary place, but Beleg is such a badass that he can survive it. In the forest, he finds an Elf sleeping under a tree. After Beleg heals him and gives him some lembas, the Elf says that his name is Gwindor, one of the Elves from Nargothrond who went to fight with Maedhros in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. Captured Noldor are put to work in Morgoth’s mines, since they’re skilled with metals and gemstones. (The Noldor yearn for the mines!!!) Gwindor managed to escape through a secret tunnel, and got lost in the evil forest.

Gwindor gives Beleg some intel about the Orc party he’s chasing, and tries to dissuade Beleg from following them. After all, he knows what awaits them in Angband if they get captured. But Beleg refuses to abandon Túrin, and Gwindor, having finally gotten a smidge of hope, decides to go with him.

Beleg and Gwindor sneak into the Orc camp at the base of the Thangorodrim and carry Túrin out without a hitch. But when Beleg goes to cut Túrin’s bonds with his cursed sword, he slips and snicks Túrin’s foot with the blade. Túrin wakes up to see someone bending over him with a sword, and freaks out, not realizing who it is. He grabs the sword and kills Beleg, his loyal friend who loved him so much that he repeatedly put himself in harm’s way for Túrin’s sake. A storm rages overhead, and a flash of lightning illuminates Beleg’s face. Túrin is completely distraught to see that he killed his friend, and collapses beside Beleg’s body.

Death of Beleg by Elena Kukanova

In the morning, when the storm passes, Gwindor suggests that they bury Beleg. Túrin is still distraught, but helps bury him right in that spot. They bury Beleg’s bow with him, but take the lembas, and the meteorite sword. Gwindor thinks it’s a shame that such a fine sword should go to waste, and thinks it would be better used to kill the Orcs, and that’ll definitely come back to bite them later.

They go off together, but Túrin is so traumatized that he doesn’t speak. Gwindor looks after him until they reach a magic spring called Eithel Ivrin, which is blessed by Ulmo (the Vala of Water). Túrin drinks from the spring and finally speaks again. He composes a lay to honor Beleg’s life, and sings it at the top of his voice.

Túrin and Gwindor at the Pools of Ivrin, by Ted Nasmith

Gwindor gives Túrin the meteorite sword, and offers to take him back to Nargothrond. Since he can finally speak, Túrin asks Gwindor who he is, and Gwindor tells him that he’s a thrall who was “once” Gwindor son of Guilin. I think it’s interesting that Gwindor introduces himself this way — he no longer feels worthy of his former identity, and though he escaped Morgoth, he still identifies himself as a “thrall.”

Túrin also asks after his father Húrin. Gwindor doesn’t know any details, but he tells Túrin the rumors that Húrin is imprisoned by Morgoth and that his line is cursed. After everything that just happened, Túrin finds that completely believable.

As they continue to travel, Túrin and Gwindor are captured by Gwindor’s own people, the Elves of Nargothrond. They don’t recognize Gwindor at all — being a slave in Angband aged him prematurely, which doesn’t normally happen to Elves — so they assume that Gwindor and Túrin are spies. The first person to recognize Gwindor is the king’s beautiful daughter, Finduilas, because she was in love with him before he left. Gwindor is welcomed back into the fold. Túrin is allowed to stay, but he doesn’t give the Elves his real name.

Something about Túrin must be really appealing to Elves, because the Nargothrond Elves like him as much as Thingol’s Elves did. Also, Túrin has been a teenager this whole time, and only now does he reach manhood. (Actually, like Aragorn, he’s probably significantly longer-lived than the humans of today are. But still.)

Also, he’s really attractive, like his mother Morwen— he has pale skin and dark hair, gray eyes, and the prettiest face of any Man who’s ever lived. At first glance, you’d easily mistake him for one of the Noldor. (After all the pictures of him looking kind of like Aragorn or Boromir, that came as quite a shock.) I guess he cleans up nicely; he has been living in the wilderness for years.

Túrin Turambar by @tolrone

The meteorite sword is reforged, and Túrin renames it Gurthang, “Iron of Death.” He’s so skilled with it that the Elves nickname him Mormegil, “The Black Sword,” which is pretty badass.

Finduilas unwittingly falls in love with Túrin, and out of love with Gwindor. Gwindor catches on, and doesn’t take it personally, but he warns Finduilas about what happened the last time an Elf and a Man fell in love. Túrin may look and act like an Elf, but he’s not one — he’ll die and leave Finduilas alone, and it’s vanishingly unlikely that Mandos will be willing to break the rules a second time. Also, Túrin is clearly cursed, and Beren didn’t have that problem. Gwindor also reveals Túrin’s real name, and tells Finduilas that if she gets mixed up with him, she’s guaranteed to feel the effects of the curse on his bloodline.

Nargothrond. Finduilas and Túrin by Elena Kukanova

Túrin is very mad that Gwindor revealed his true identity. Gwindor tells him that he’ll attract trouble no matter what he calls himself, so, there’s not much point in using aliases.

When Orodreth, the king, hears who Túrin really is, he’s perfectly happy to have a son of Húrin in his ranks. Túrin becomes more and more important in his court — so important, that he can completely overhaul their method of warfare. Remember, ever since Celegorm and Curufin’s attempted coup, the Nargothrond Elves have practiced mainly guerilla warfare, which is sneaky and dishonorable and all that. So now, because of Túrin, the Nargothrond Elves practice open warfare like civilized people. The disadvantage to this is that, now that the Nargothrond Elves are fighting out in the open, Morgoth knows where they are.

Gwindor is worried by how much influence Túrin has, and sounds the alarm, but no one listens to him anymore and he falls out of favor. Poor guy. He survives Angband, is nice to Túrin, gives him a place to live, and is repaid by Túrin stealing his honors and his girlfriend.

In the meantime Morwen, Túrin’s mother, takes advantage of the unexpected peace caused by her son’s decimation of all the Orcs in the area. She flees to Doriath with her daughter, expecting to find Túrin there. She grieves when she learns that Thingol’s court hasn’t heard from Túrin in years. (They actually have heard of “The Black Sword of Nargothrond,” but they have no way to know that it’s Túrin.) Thingol allows Morwen and her daughter to live in his court, and treats them like family.

Okay, I’m gonna stop there! More coming!

[silmarillaure]

Ranking the Valar by how much I hate them.

12: Lorien/Irmo - Idk why, but I kind of vibe with him. His only fault is being Mandos’s brother but he didn’t really do anything to piss me off himself. He seems dreamy & has a nice garden.

11: Orome - He’s cool but he’s still a Vala (who are objectively horrible) at the end of the day. Gets points for not going out of his way to make the Feanorians lives worse though & giving Celegorm a cool but disloyal dog.

12: Aule - Thank you for the Dwarves king! Unfortunately he’s married to Yavanna who I can not stand.

11: Nienna - Her heart seems to be in the right place. I like her.

10: Este - I don’t speak ill of healers on this blog! Even though she failed to heal Miriel I guess, she still made a bigger effort than everyone else.

9 & 8: Vana & Nessa - I just don’t think about them to be honest.

7: Tulkas - His purpose for existing is to beat up Melkor but he’s not even perfect at that. What’s wrong with you dude? Were you asleep when Melkor was making Feanor & Turin’s lives hell?

6: Yavanna - Her entitlement makes me seethe. I guess she did create the two trees but she basically gave away the light for free, she can’t ask for it back. Not the worst though, but I still don’t like her.

5: Vaire - Girl it’s nice of you to let Miriel live with you and all but why the heck were you like “but what about Indis's feelings” when Finwe was talking about how he wanted to give up getting reembodied for Miriel. This ain’t about Indis, why do her feelings matter?

4: Varda - Hallowing the Silmarills was such an a-hole move. The hallowing isn’t even fair, it’s just about who Varda wants to have the Silmarills. Does she think THINGOL is pure hearted? The Silmarill should have burnt him to a crisp.

3: Ulmo - Nothing short of a salty b!tch, thank goodness he’s single because I’d feel bad for anyone who had to put up with him. And why does he like bland ass TUOR so much while hating talented icons like the Feanorians?!

2: Manwe - He’s the 2nd fakest creature in existence after his big brother. Feanor doesn’t want your tears, where were you when your brother was murdering his dad, stealing his work, & previously harassing him for years non stop?

1: Mandos/Namo - F*ck this a-hole. At least Manwe has the excuse of being canonically stupid. He’s just an ass for the sake of it. And what’s his beef with Feanor? Free my king, all his faults are because you decided to shove Indis into his life & allowed Melkor to go free.

The actual #1: Melkor (obviously)

[erendur]

Beren and Lúthien and the role of magic in Tolkien

This is another post along the lines of “Why I don’t like Beren and Lúthien”. If you like Beren and Lúthien, good for you, enjoy, and Tolkien loves you. If you don’t like reading criticisms of Beren and Lúthien, don’t read this. Fellow non-enjoyers of Beren and Lúthien, welcome.

I’ve already talked in another post about the fact that I find the tone of Beren and Lúthein jarring. I personally do not want to read a fairy tale on the middle of my tragic tale of loss and destruction. Another thing that annoys me about B&L, and the subject of this post, is that I feel it breaks low-magicness of Tolkien’s universe, and it makes the story stand out in an annoying way.

So, bear with me. I think that, overall, The Hobbit, LOTR and the Silm have a rather sparse use of magic. Sure, there are characters who have magical powers, and magical objects, but the brunt of the action happens with non-magical means. The Hobbit is not solved by Gandalf making use of his magical powers ; actually he is sent away by Tolkien at a crucial point, so that the story can happen. LOTR is not solved by Gandalf or Elrond either, but by plain little hobbits. Magic takes a back seat.

In the Silm, I’d say that magic has a mostly infrastructury-role. The Valar shape Middle-Earth, then Valinor, and Ulmo (Ulmo ?) moves an island to get the Elves across the Ocean. The rest of the time, we don’t see them do magic. They don’t magically carry the Elves to Valinor : they have to take a long, dangerous trip. The Noldor go back to Middle Earth by boat, or on foot. 

Melian is a magical being, but the only magical things she does are a) the Girdle (a magical barrier to protect a kingdom - infrastructure) and b) use her gift of prescience to try and give advice that nobody listens to.

Magic also provides Gondolin with a protection (another magicy-infrastructure), and of course we have a couple (a couple ?) magical hidden bodies of water, plus the magic of the Silmarils. Ulmo turns Elwing into a bird. There are a couple of magical rescues by eagles. But that’s it.

The rest of the book, and the action, is pretty magic-free. The Noldor do not fight Morgoth with magic, they fight him with swords, cavalry and their superior physical strength. Morgoth himself, apart from the curse on Húrin and the spell on Maeglin, does not really use magic, or only to create creatures that he uses as soldiers against the Noldor. The Valar eventually defeat him not in a magical duel, Harry Potter style, but by sending a host of soldiers. Eärendil kills Glaurung, sure, but that’s not really the main action.

And I like that, because the story and the actions then happen because of the qualities, or the flaws of the characters. 

In Beren and Lúthien though, we have : Finrod somehow using magic to make himself, Beren and his companions look like orcs ; a magical song competition ; Lúthien escaping from her prison thanks to magical hair and a magical cloak ; Huan the magical dog suddenly choosing sides and speaking ; Lúthien defeating Sauron in another magical song competition, and Sauron shape-shifting and becoming a vampire ; Beren and Lúthien donning a magical disguise to sneak into Angband ; Lúthien putting the whole of Angband into a magical sleep ; a magical rescue by eagles (another one) ; a magical resurrection. 

It’s much more magic-heavy than anything else in the Silm or even The Hobbit, and for me it just lowers the stakes, and makes me care about the character less, because there is no real sense of danger, no real sense that these people are defying odds. I care about Gandalf because he is scared, and looks like a frail old man, and knows he can’t really take on a Balrog, but does it anyway. I care about Fingolfin defying Morgoth because I know he can’t possibly win, but he still manages to wound him. I care about Fingon on his magical rescue missions because, boy oh boy, without magical eagle interventions would things have gone wrong (or even before that). 

I don’t have the feeling that, at any point, Lúthien is in any danger, or not going to get her way (Beren is a bit different : he’s a strong warrior, sure, but a regular guy, and I do feel for him as he’s trying to get to Finrod, holding up the ring of Baradur, without getting shot by his sentries, or when he is in that dungeon with the werewolves - the minute he’s with Lúthien though, I feel like “Eh, he’ll be fine”). That’s also part of the reason why the Celegorm and Curfufin part of that story doesn’t stick with me. Not only do I find it nonsensical (they suddenly have two brains cells and are trying to invent diplomatic marriage, apparently, which would be a first ever since we do not hear of any such marriage in the whole of the Silm, and while most of the Noldor leaders (and Cirdan) seem in no hurry to marry themselves, diplomatically or not), but also, again, there is no real sense of danger. She already escaped once, from a far more secure prison, I don’t buy for one moment that C&C, exiled princes with their dog, of all people, are the ones who are going to best Lúthien. At this stage the only reason she doesn’t escape earlier than she does is because she either likes the food or want to not hurt their pride too much (I am, obviously, exaggerating here for effect…)

And because Lúthien is so powerful, her actions and its effects have to be limited, otherwise she could easily put an end to the story. So, of course, some people feel disappointed, and frankly, annoyed with her. That one so powerful achieves so little, when countless others try as hard as they can with much more limited means. Sons of Fëanor aside, what would Fingolfin have done, had he had a tenth of her powers ? She uses all this power for - what ? Marrying her guy (which she could easily have done post the Sauron episode, by the way - there were only the two of them, and she tells Beren that he could just forsake his oath and roam the face of the earth with her) and giving a Silmaril to her dad, who (checks notes) wanted Beren dead, and imprisoned her (and if we want to go all XXIst century on B&L and call Celegorm a rapist, can we go wtf on this one for a moment ?)

I also feel, and I don’t even know if that’s an aside or not at this point, that the story feels at odds thematically because of that. I see people saying that it fits with the overall theme of hope, but I don’t think the Silm is about hope. That’s LOTR. I think it’s about faith, rebellion, pride and destruction. The characters who drive the action (Morgoth, the Noldor) are the ones who rebel against a legitimate, sacred authority (Eru, the Valar), out of pride (and because of Morgoth’s lies, in the case of the Noldor), and who then reap the consequences of it (death, the progressive destruction of Beleriand).  We are told, several times, that Manwë would have listened to the pleas of the Noldor, had they sent him prayers. They don’t, and they keep suffering because of it.

The positive figures in the story are the ones who keep their faith in the Valar : Fingon pulls off the magical rescue because he cries out to Manwë ; Turgon gets his hidden magical city because he listens to Ulmo (and would have potentially saved all of his people if he’d evacuated his city when told to do so by Ulmo) ; Eärendil manages to save Middle Earth because he puts his faith in the Valar, and not a small amount of effort in trying to reach them. Cirdan, although a very peripheral figure, is also one that is deeply linked to the Valar, and I think that’s why eventually his realm and people survive (even if they take several severe beatings), and he raises/protects the non-arguably best High King of the Noldor ever (Gil-Galad).

The overall message of the story is also that these people are not going to beat Evil, not with their own strength only, not without faith. It’s the host of the Valar that eventually beats Morgoth ; in the Second Age, its a great alliance of Men and Elves that beats Sauron, but the one individual to deal the decisive blow, Isildur, is a mere, non-magical man, characterised by his faith. In LOTR obviously, we have repeated, again, the message that these grand kings, princes and sorcerers, are not the ones who defeat evil once and for all, because, as we’ve seen aplenty in both the Silm and LOTR, these people, the best of the best, get easily corrupted, unless they have faith.

Unless the overall message of the story is that you can’t expect salvation from the pampered daughter of a goddess and a mighty king, because she’s only interested in her own person. In that case, my little Republican heart agrees. Yeah, Beren and Lúthien, the secretly anti-monarchist story of the Silm.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

Hi there! Do you think the people of Rohan would be familiar with the Elvish history? Like, would they know about the silmarils? How about Valinor and the trees? Balrog and Glorfindel? Thank you so much!

Hi! I think the answer here is an unequivocal…kind of! 🙂

They absolutely know some of that Silmarillion-style history because every once in a while they refer to it in their own lore. For example, in Appendix A Tolkien says the Rohirrim thought this about their great horses, the mearas: “that Béma (whom the Eldar call Oromë) brought their sire from West over Sea.” In that one phrase, we get confirmation that they knew 1) the identity of the Vala Oromë, 2) that he had an association with horses, and 3) that the Valar lived in the far west beyond the sea. So they’ve got clear familiarity with at least parts of that story, and I think that’s only natural.

For starters, their ancestors (the Rohirrim are kin to the House of Hador but settled further east and didn’t go all the way to Beleriand) lived through a lot of those early historical events. So when the elves were up to big deeds, the proto-Rohirrim would have either directly witnessed some of those deeds (for ex.: their immediate ancestors, the Northmen, were liberated from Sauron by Gil-galad at the end of the Second Age!) or heard about them as news made its way around Middle Earth. Those stories would have become part of their general histories and been passed on through the years, making their way eventually to Third Age Rohan (though sometimes incomplete or having been altered through repeated transmission).

In addition, although the Rohirrim as we know them didn’t really interact with elves and seemed to have lost some knowledge and understanding of them (see Éomer’s misconceptions about Galadriel and whether she is well intentioned), they weren’t total isolationists. They were best buddies with the Gondorians, who were the intellectual heirs of Númenor and, thus, knew all that Silmarillion stuff. And they had established relationships with both Gandalf and Saruman. So they had plenty of sources available to them for information about the elves’ ideas about the gods, the world, and the history of Middle Earth.

Unfortunately, I don’t think there’s a lot of textual evidence to clarify exactly *which* pieces of those elven stories the Rohirrim knew and believed. I’ve previously highlighted a few Silmarillion references, like Haleth and Aerin, to pop up in Rohan, but they tend to be references to the humans of the First Age rather than the elves or the Valar.

Of the examples you asked about, we can give a definite yes to Valinor (see above), but as for the Silmarils, the trees, or Glorfindel and the balrog in Gondolin, we could only speculate. The Rohirrim’s relatives, the Hadorians, were deeply tied up in the doings of the elves during the War of the Jewels – including the fall of Gondolin, since Tuor was a Hadorian – so I think it’s reasonable to assume that at least some of that made its way to them back then even without a Gondorian or Saruman or whoever telling them about it later. But I can’t produce any specific evidence for that!

If pressed, though, I’d say that the most highly educated of the Rohirrim have probably heard about most of those big ticket events, ideas and people, if only in an abbreviated or adulterated form (and they may not believe all of it to be true even if they’ve heard it). But they aren’t super focused on it anyway, because their primary interest would be the history and lore that’s most directly related to their own forebears, and that didn’t tend to intersect often with what the elves were up to.

Hope that was helpful, and thanks for asking! ♥️♥️♥️

[winterpinetrees]

Okay yeah I’m still thinking about logistics. I am aware that lord of the rings is whimsical and I don’t care.

There must be so many people in Rivendell. It’s the Last Homely House, the last decent place before you go off into the deep wilderness. It’s at the bottom of a valley in the middle of nowhere. They aren’t getting everything imported. Elrond must have a full sized settlement there to produce most of the food, even if we are assuming that preserving magic makes it an easy place to live. Rivendell is a refuge too. It’s home to Elrond, his family, a significant number of Noldor like Glorfindel, and who knows how many wanderers. Elves don’t die of old age, and in the Third Age they don’t get murdered particularly often either, so I have to imagine that the population is large and just keeps growing. I don’t get the sense that many travel across the sea until after Sauron falls, and there really isn’t anywhere else for them to go. Lothlorien, maybe? There’s got to be thousands of people in that valley, supporting the Last Homely House and keeping the forces of darkness at bay.

More than that, it’s a huge place fit for the most powerful people in Middle Earth. Rivendell can easily accommodate Bilbo’s entire party in the hobbit and all of the visiting diplomats for the Council of Elrond. Do you have any idea how much manpower (elf power?) it takes to keep a place clean, well-lit, and functional without modern technology? It takes an absurd amount of work. There is nothing in the legendarium that I’m aware of to suggest that elves use magic as a labor saving tool. That means that people are doing all of that work by hand.

Are there elven servants in Rivendell? What about in Valinor? In the Silmarillion, we only ever really read about noble bloodlines, and in LoTR, elves are kept very mysterious. There’s craftsmen who make silmarils and magic rings, but who is forging gear for the average soldier? We know that there are a whole lot of average soldiers. Lord of the rings is a story of battles between armies. Is there upward mobility in an undying land? Whoever is cleaning clothes in Valinor, have they been doing that since the age of the two trees?

Maybe Valinor is more equal than that. Maybe in a place where everyone expects to live forever, they’ve found ways to share the load. But they did have a high king, long ago, and Feanor uses the argument that the elves should go to Beleriand to find freedom and treasure. He’s not a reliable narrator, but it’s something I’ve been thinking about.

What must it be like to be one of the other Noldor? To be a common elf and go east seeking freedom and adventure, only to find suffering like you cannot imagine? To watch that land sink beneath the ocean, to see Numenor be corrupted and fall, to fight Morgoth and Sauron and Sauron again? To finally leave it all behind as everything, even Rivendell and Lindon and Lothlorien, fades? Or maybe you die in combat and spend an eon in the halls of Mandos before reawakening in Valinor. Either way, you’re back!

And someone needs to do the laundry.

[thelordofgifs]

the fairest stars

What if Angrist was a little tougher, and Beren and Lúthien managed to steal two Silmarils from Morgoth instead of one? Somehow I’ve already written NINE parts of this unhinged bullet point AU here and decided it was time for a fresh post to avoid that one getting too long.

Where we left off: Lúthien has been negotiating with Mandos like a pro, Maglor is nearly-but-not-quite-dead in Menegroth, Thingol has taken one Silmaril from him, Fingon has the other Silmaril and ditched Curufin outside the Girdle even though they did some bonding on the Worst Road Trip, and people are still upset about Celegorm’s death. YES I am well aware that the pipeline from the fairly normal first sentence of the post to this mess is insane.

Fingon and Maedhros are both very, very good tacticians. Between them, it isn’t very difficult for Fingon to follow Maedhros’ directions towards Menegroth, and then to find the hidden pathways by which Huan led Maedhros out of Thingol’s halls.

It helps that Thingol is still under the impression that the Girdle is impenetrable with the aid of his Silmaril, so he doesn’t have anyone keeping an eye out for the High King of the Noldor sneaking into his realm on an Adventure.

Finding Maglor's sickroom/prison cell/whatever is a little trickier, but not impossible. Long ago in Tirion Fingon was a mischievous child, so he's well aware that the best way not to get caught sneaking into a forbidden place is to make it perfectly clear that you belong there.

He strides confidently down the corridors, silently reciting Maedhros' directions to himself. Nobody stops him.

He's hoping that Curufin was wrong, and he'll know Maglor's door by the holy light showing through the cracks; but when none is evident he's forced to take his chances and start trying doors in the area Maedhros indicated at random.

Since he has plot armour is very lucky with this whole improbable-rescue thing he comes across Maglor without any trouble.

Maglor is only half-conscious – quite apart from the wounded leg, he hasn’t eaten in days – but his eyes flicker open when Fingon comes in.

“Hello, Makalaurë,” Fingon says, deliberately cheerful. “I’ve come to take you home.”

“You can’t do that,” Maglor says dazedly. “It burned – in the Bragollach – remember?”

Fingon opts not to answer that. “Russo said you were healing when he left,” he says instead, frowning at the bloodstained bandages around Maglor’s leg. “What happened? Has Thingol been mistreating you? I thought Lúthien at least was kind!”

Maybe he was too hasty in leaving Curufin outside the Girdle.

Maglor hurries to explain that Lúthien is dead, and that he’s actually in this pathetic state by choice or something.

“Right,” says Fingon, “well, you’re coming back to Himring now.”

But Maglor shakes his head. “I can’t, Finno,” he says. “Thingol took the Silmaril from me. I don’t – I’ve been trying to hold it back. The Oath. But I can’t leave it in Doriath and go, I can’t. So you’ll have to leave me behind.” He manages a brave and tragic smile.

On Thangorodrim while Fingon was struggling futilely with Morgoth’s iron shackle, hopeless tears running down his face, Maedhros said, You’ll never be able to free me, Finno, just kill me, please—

Fingon is rather sick of Fëanorian melodrama.

“One step ahead of you,” he says brightly, and he produces Maedhros’ Silmaril from its box, handing it to Maglor before his Oath can stir at the sight of it. “Here it is.”

This would never normally work. But Maglor is very tired and ill, and not thinking as clearly as he otherwise would.

As long as the obvious question doesn’t occur to him until they get outside the Girdle again—

Maglor takes the jewel and gives a relieved little sigh as the bite of the Oath eases. “You really took it from Thingol?”

“Of course,” Fingon lies. “Let’s put it back in the box for now so that it doesn’t attract too much attention?”

Maglor acquiesces. He and Fingon aren’t close exactly, but they get on well – certainly far better than Fingon does with Curufin. There’s an odd shared camaraderie that comes from loving Maedhros; it lends itself well to cooperation in difficult circumstances.

Fingon picks Maglor up – he's alarmingly light – and they begin to make their way back out of Menegroth.

"You're to be my betrothal gift," Fingon tells Maglor, and Maglor actually laughs.

Unfortunately it's much harder to look innocuous when you're carrying someone about five minutes away from expiring on the spot.

They haven't got very far before an angry voice comes from behind them: "Who are you and where are you going with the Fëanorion?"

Damn.

Meanwhile

[I should clarify my definition of "meanwhile" here. Evidently time runs much slower in Aman than it does in Middle-earth, even post-Darkening, or it's difficult to fathom why Beren and Lúthien canonically took two years to return from death. In vague support of this, the Fellowship find that time runs slowly in Lothlórien, presumably with the aid of Galadriel's ring, so I posit that the more Divine Stuff there is near a place (and Galadriel was ofc a student of Melian too), the more weird time shit occurs. So since I've anyway fudged the timelines so that travel times work out conveniently, we can also put the bits of story occurring in Aman here for funsies.]

Meanwhile, Finrod has been following Celegorm around in the Halls of Mandos.

"Was it worth it?" he asks. "Did you take joy in the lordship of Nargothrond, once I was gone?"

"I could ask you the same," says Celegorm, responding for the first time. "Did you die for anything in the end, Ingoldo? The mortal's here, after all your efforts. So much for your oath."

"So much for yours," says Finrod; "it looks like that eternal darkness you doomed yourself to wasn't that dark. Or eternal. So what was it all for? Do you even regret any of it?"

The dead can't lie. Artifice and deception are matters of the flesh, and they are buried with it.

"I didn't want you to die," Celegorm says.

"Well, that's a start!" says Finrod. "I can't say I'm glad to see you here, either."

"O Fair and Faithful one," says Celegorm, "spare me none of your pity. They are already whispering that you will be released soon, first of all the Exiles to walk again in Aman. So it's all turned out rather well for you, despite your evil cousins' machinations."

"I suppose it has," says Finrod, thinking.

The thing is, it was worth it. Beren's life mattered. It mattered that he saved it, even if he died to do so, even if Beren is dead now too (although word is that might be changing).

He did not do it expecting a reward.

"And my werewolf was bigger than yours," says Celegorm.

Finrod rolls his metaphorical eyes. "At least I actually killed mine."

Cousinly bickering is still kind of fun, even when you're dead.

Curufin, fuming outside the Girdle, would not agree.

After a time he's forced to conclude that the only thing he can do is head back to Himring.

The ride through Himlad, once as green and fair a land as any, does not improve his mood.

Also his burned hand is still hurting.

Look: here's the little stream where Celegorm caught a huge fish once; and here are the low hills where, a couple of centuries ago, they held some war games and Curufin's people thrashed Celegorm's decisively.

Here's the copse where, years before the Dagor Aglareb brought tentative peace to East Beleriand, Curufin and his son were surprised by a party of orcs, who took their small patrol all captive.

Tyelpë was just barely of age at the time. How trusting his eyes, then, how baby-soft his hair: how easily he had believed that his father would fix everything.

As for Curufin, he spent the hours-long ordeal learning anew what terror was, rendered compliant by the mere possibility that they could hurt his child.

They were fine, in the end. Celegorm rode up to the rescue while the orcs were still quarrelling over where to take them.

But Curufin remembers: how disabling love can be.

Meanwhile Fingon finds himself surrounded by a crowd of angry Iathrim in their home city.

He sets Maglor down on the floor and sets a hand on his sword-hilt, wondering if he is about to become a Kinslayer again.

(Fingon regrets Alqualondë more than anything; and he'd do it again, for Maedhros' sake. He knows this about himself.)

Before things escalate too far, Thingol shows up at the scene of the disturbance.

"We haven't met," Fingon says. "Fingon son of Fingolfin, High King of the Noldor in Beleriand. I've come for my cousin." He gives Thingol a rather dangerous smile.

Thingol thinks he might be in serious trouble. He attempts to adopt a conciliatory tone (which is really really hard for Thingol ok he's trying).

"He'll die if he's moved," he says, nodding to where Maglor is slumped against the wall, shivering.

"He'll die if he stays here!" Fingon says. "Is this the famed hospitality of your halls?"

"He has been offered every treatment he could ask for," Thingol says. "It is not the fault of Menegroth if he chooses to refuse them. Now tell me, son of Fingolfin, how came you through the Girdle of Melian – without her leave or mine?"

Maglor puts the pieces together. "Finno, you lied to me," he breathes, glancing at the box in Fingon's hand.

Fingon wonders if it would be diplomatically insensitive to kick Thingol.

"The jewel alone does not explain it," Thingol insists. "While I hold the Silmaril my daughter won, surely—?"

"I could have told you that, had you asked," says Maglor. "Silmarils aren't weapons! You can't use one as some sort of military defence."

Thingol is now questioning all his life choices.

He only took the Silmaril from Maglor in the first place because he thought it would protect his kingdom, and now—

Maglor is feeling resigned. He should have known Fingon's claim was too good to be true. Thingol still has the Silmaril, and Maglor can't leave Menegroth without it.

Face pale and set, he attempts to get to his feet, mostly unsuccessfully.

Fingon looks down at him. "Seriously, Makalaurë?" And when Maglor ignores him, he says, "Sorry about this," and kicks Maglor's bad leg – carefully, but still hard enough to hurt.

Maglor faints.

Fingon picks his limp body up. "The Silmaril isn't yours," he tells Thingol.

"The white ships of Olwë my brother's people were not yours, either," Thingol returns.

Fingon inclines his head, acknowledging the point. "I don't wish to start a war over the Silmaril," he says. Maglor is so cold and still in his arms. "My cousins have done enough for that cause lately. Only let me take my kinsman home."

Thingol hesitates. The iron box in Fingon's hand is so close, and Fingon is outnumbered, and he has his injured cousin to worry about—

It could all be over, if he took the second Silmaril. He'd never need to worry about his people's safety from invasion again.

"Elu," comes a voice from behind him, "enough of this. Let them go."

"Queen Melian," says Fingon, bowing his head.

She barely looks at him, meeting her husband's gaze instead. "Time and again you have disregarded me," she says. "Lúthien is lost, and yet you persist with this. Will you heed me now?"

Thingol stares at her, and then, finally, he waves his hand. The bristling guards move aside, allowing Fingon free passage down the corridor.

"I trust you can remember your way out," Thingol tells Fingon, and turns away.

Fingon looks at Melian. "Thank you," he says, "and I am very sorry about your daughter."

He has met Maiar before, of course, in Valinor: but Melian is still unsettling, with her implausibly flawless face and eyes that hold yet the memory of a time before Time.

"Little king," she says, "only hope that you will not know any such pain yourself."

Fingon manages a smile. "I'm good at that," he says. "Hope."

On that note he leaves Menegroth, carrying Maglor, and begins to make the long trek back through the Forest of Region, and thence to Himring.

Curufin has managed the journey significantly more quickly. On a crisp cold morning he rides back through Himring's gates.

Maedhros has been... managing. Not well, but he trusts Fingon.

Beloved, I will bring them back to you. Beloved, I will bring them back to you. Beloved, I will bring them back to you.

But here's Curufin by himself, looking pale and tired, and after all it was only a hastily-scribbled note, not an incantation.

Maedhros arrives at the gate at a run.

Scarce weeks ago it was the other way around, Maedhros riding into the fortress with Fingon's cloak only just concealing his bloodstained clothes: and Curufin met him as he came in and he can still feel the terrible jolt of knowledge in his stomach, and Celegorm is still dead.

How can it be borne?

A thought comes to Curufin and for a moment he thinks it the cruellest idea he has ever had, but Celegorm is dead and his hand is still burned and nobody expects any better of him anyway.

"They're dead," he says flatly, "they're both dead," and Maedhros just – stares at him.

(to be continued)

[the-elusive-soleil]

our time will come but not today

For @maedhrosmaglorweek Day 7: Storytelling Prompt: Fate

Maedhros moves toward the edge of the chasm, jewel burning into his hand - only to be abruptly hauled backward by something catching hold of his cloak. His back hits the ground hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs and the Silmaril from his hand, and then Maglor is over him, keeping him in place.

Of the two of the, Maedhros still has the greater strength. He could shove his brother off and get to his feet if he tried. But with his momentum interrupted, he’s finding it hard to motivate himself to move.

Maglor’s jaw is tight with pain, but his gaze is determined, and he stays put, between Maedhros and the edge. “No, Nelyo,” he says quietly. “Not that. Not after everything.”

“What else is left, Kano?” Maedhros asks dully. “It’s over. It was never going to end any other way than this.”

But Maglor shakes his head. “I won’t accept that. The Oath is done; we can choose what kind of story we want this to be.”

“Can we?” Maedhros has certainly not thought so since the Doom first echoed in his ears.

“We can,” Maglor insists. “We have to try, anyway. And I refuse to let this continue to be a tragedy.”

He stands then, pulling Maedhros to his feet, and leads him away from the chasm. For a moment, he pauses, just long enough to kick the dropped Silmarils over the edge.

“What kind of story do you mean to make it, then?” Maedhros asks, his gaze following the disappearing light.

“I don’t know yet,” Maglor says, voice light despite his death grip on Maedhros’ arm as they walk. “I hope it shall include our sons - our family - perhaps some measure of grace. I hope it shall have a better ending than this. But if nothing else, it is ours, and it is not over yet.”

Maedhros isn’t quite sure he can believe in what his brother is spinning out. There cannot be that kind of hope, not for them. But last time, Maglor followed him into ruin, so Maedhros supposes he owes it to him to follow him into whatever this might be.

[inthehouseoffinwe]

What do you think would’ve happened if instead of the three Cs, Maedhros and Maglor had been the ones to fight Dior?

I mean we know they’re much more skilled and less bloodthirsty and rash than the rest of their brothers. So here’s an AU:

I think we’d see Mae and Mags come out on top, and assuming they’re out of the main hall, the rest of their brothers would probably make it out of Doriath alive. Elured and Elurin make it out with Elwing.

With all seven still around and watching each other’s backs, I imagine Sirion would be much the same, all all them surviving. The addition of Elwing’s brothers and their soldiers turning on them, *might* turn the tables just enough to kill a couple of Fëanorions, probably Celegorm and Curufin who are still bitter about Luthien and Dior. But I feel it’s more likely due to inexperience, Elured and Elurin are killed, not necessarily by the Fëanorions themselves.

The silmaril ends up with Elwing and we get the same situation of Maedhros and Maglor asking for it back and Elwing throwing herself off the cliff. Mae and Mags genuinely do not want to be here but the letters were refused and the Oath calls. Elwing probably knows her brothers were killed by word of mouth or seeing it herself and legged it.

Enter Elrond and Elros who’d have a more interesting (and fun) time of things with 5-7 sons of Fëanor around. Maedhros would back Maglor on caring for the twins though, less consumed by the oath with all his little brothers alive and kicking. And in canon he did go searching for Dior’s sons. Caranthir probably doesn’t really have an opinion on them, Amrod and Amras are willing to follow their brothers’ lead on things (also when are they ever gonna have a chance to see identical twins again. I think they’d get along pretty well.) I don’t see any of them being particularly hateful towards the kids. Celegorm and Curufin seem to be most susceptible to the Oath and giving in to their nastier sides might be a bit more of a problem, but there’s enough brothers to keep an eye on them. And I think they’d warm up eventually, reluctantly though it may be. Curufin was a father first, remember, it’s more natural for him to care than not.

Safe to say by the time Elrond and Elros go to Gil Galad, they’re very well trained in all manner of things 😂

As for the fate of the Fëanorions, they wouldn’t go for the last ditch attempt Mae and Mags did. From the eldest’s perspective, there’s too much to lose. I want to say the stones might be passed off to them, if only to prove a point, and whoever picks them up would no doubt be burned, but there’s no suicides. There’s no endless lamentation.

In reality though there’s probably still a battle by the chest, the oath awakened and clawing with the stones so close. There might be more of a push to bring them back to Valinor to stand trial, but they’re a force to be reckoned with and Eönwë knows they’d rather die than be dragged back. The Fëanorions are let go with the stones, but instead of being tossed away as the Valar expect, the chest is kept and they go on.

With the oath mostly fulfilled much of the weight across their fëa is gone, and Curufin and Celegorm head out to keep an eye on Celebrimbor. Elros might have a temporary tagalong in Maedhros and Caranthir (new kingdom needs someone with experience to get the economy up and running.) Maglor and both Ambarussa keep their distant eye on Elrond.

(Annatar didn’t expect the seven biggest pains in his Master’s back to greet him at Eregion’s gate, two Silmarils in tow, burning him to the core. Celebrimbor doesn’t know whether to be horrified or thankful. Back in Lindon, Elrond - the one who tipped them off - is cackling and Gil Galad is Concerned TM but decides he’s better off not knowing. His cousins are insane on the best of days.)

Alternatively, Elured and Elurin perhaps remembering how reluctant Maedhros and Maglor were, how Maedhros pleaded with their father to just return the stone so this could all *end*, immediately send the silmaril back when the letter comes. Or maybe they’re just cooler headed and see the logic of returning the stone. Things settle. The Valar do eventually get involved. Silmaril two and three are regained then reclaimed by the brothers as mentioned above. They might burn. They might reject the holders. But the oath is fulfilled and that’s all that matters in the end.

[lordgrimwing]

Stealthros AU

[from this ask!]

The Basics: Malkor establishes his on kingdom in Middle-earth, enthralling/enslaving most of the elves before being defeated by the Valar and tossed into Mandos to contemplate his bad behavior (no elves ever went to Valinor). When he gets out on good behavior, he steals three glowing eggs from a group of dragons, killing dragon!Finwe and wounding dragon!Nerdanel in the process (similar process to Melkor leaving in the book). He then flees across the sea back to Middle-earth to reclaim his kingship. The rest of the dragon family chases after him, desperate to get their unhatched children/siblings back. The dragons work with the free peoples to over-throw Melkor, Feanor is killed at some point never seeing his lost eggs again. — @nighttimepatrons has some fricken awesome art of these dragons. Go check it out! —

Now, the dragons never tell their tentative allies that the ‘silmarils’ are eggs, so as far as anyone knows, the silmarils are just special gems that the dragons want back. Once Melkor is defeated, the elves/men/dwarves don’t give the remaining dragons the silmarils as agreed upon when the alliance was first made, keeping them for themselves (the light of the silmarils helps crops grow and keeps evil creatures away and are just all around very tempting things to keep hold of in a war-ruined land).

Inevitably, this leads to the dragons turning on the newly freed peoples (ie, welcome to the kinslayings on a massive scale). The dragons die one by one, the eggs always just out of reach. Celegorm has a classic western dragon arc with Luthien and Beren before they slay him. Finally, it’s down to Maedhors (the Enormous) and Maglor, and Celebrimbor who never took part in the slaughter for the silmarils because he loves elves, and he’s actually living in Eregion with the elves.

Because Kidnap Fam is kind of a requirement for us, M+M end up with young Elros and Elrond after another failed attempt to get a silmaril. M+M raise E+E and they become half-feral, fearless foster sons committed to helping their dragon dads get what’s theirs!

Okay, that was a lot but there you have the basis for the AU. Now on to some fun details.

The AU got it’s name because Elros is a silly guy who is very proud of how sneaky he can be, how stealthy. He calls himself Stealthros (get it? Stealthy Elros. Steathros. We’re so funny)

Now, because Elros and Elrond are So stealthy and sneaky and want to help their dads, who by this time are starting to give up, they decide to sneak into the treasury of the Noldor King and get the silmaril hidden within. Things go great until they get caught. Elros manages to escape (Stealthros for the win!) but Elrond gets tossed into a prison cell while the king figures out what to do.

Let’s talk about Gil-galad, the King of the Noldor.

Gil-galad, like many of the Noldor, was a thrall of Morgoth, freed after the dragons defeated the Vala. He bares a passing resemblance to Fingon, one of the free Noldor kings who died during the wars and dear friend of Maedhros. With some coaching from Cirdan (who never was a thrall), Gil-galad manages to convince the newly freed and leaderless Noldor that he is the son/grandson of Fingon. Whatever your thoughts on this deception, he’s doing a great shop of rebuilding the world and ensuring people don’t starve. Maedhros refuses to meet with him for any kind of treaties to end the attacks because he knows this upstart usurper is no relation of Fingon the Valiant. Gil-galad has the scars of a setting/rising star cut into his forehead. He doesn’t talk about it.

He's a good king, and he’s terrified when he ends up with a silmaril. He feels the Doom hanging over him and a bit of disappointment: from the stories, he expected something far grander from a silmaril, something glowing with otherworldly light, bright and holy; instead, all he has is a slightly shiny rock that collects dust and invites two nasty dragons to descend on the city. Whatever goodness and power that was housed in the thing is long gone. He hates it.

Now he has this this wild half-elf, foster son of the same monsters, too. He’s so Doomed.

He tries to talk with Elrond. In an ideal world, he’d get an agreement where he frees the boy and gives him the rock, but based on history, even that could bring death flying on dragon wings.

The talk doesn’t go well. Elrond appears to have forgotten his native language, and he only hisses and snaps at Gil-galad, even biting his hand when he gets too close!

There’s only one thing for it: he sends a message to Eregion, asking for someone who’s learned dragon-speech from Celebrimbor to home translate for him.

Celebrimbor is kind of a busybody, though, so he flies over to Lindon himself to see what’s going on and meet the elf-child his uncles raised.

Elrond bullies Celebrimbor. He’s so mean to the dragon 100x his size, it’s unbelievable. He says all kinds of things about Celebrimbor abandoning his family. He punches him in the nose!—Celebrimbor has no idea how to handle this from someone so small. He maybe cries a little. Gil-galad tries not to get second-hand embarrassment.

And that’s kind of it. I Elrond gets back to his dragon dads (Stealthros probably breaks him out), Gil-galad and Celebrimbor probably don’t die (but couldn’t you just imagine a scene like that one from HotD, with Elros on Maedhros chasing them down? shivers).

I’m sure Nightie has more awesome ideas to share (especially focused on the dragons)!

Ask me about fics that live rent-free in my head!

[fistfuloflightning]

So. Someone a bit ago commented on one of my fics (or here, not sure) about my penchant for odd Tolkien rarepairs. I myself forget just how many I have, so here’s the rundown and why I like them:

Maedhros/Maeglin (just. the angst. of being buried under your mistakes and finding a kindred soul to share that same burden and heal together. soulmates. who might’ve even met during the nirnaeth. and they’re definitely switches your honor)

Celegorm/Aredhel or Celegorm/Dior (or Dior’s reckless/headstrong stubbornness reminds him of Aredhel and there’s a lot of angry/bittersweet proxyfucking and guilt and ‘I don’t know who I truly love anymore’)

Maglor/Luthien (beauty for beauty’s sake. and honestly anyone but beren. luthien getting involved with the war to protect her murderbard boyfriend and actually putting a dent in morgoth’s forces. mags trying his hardest to protect her as much as the silmaril she won back for him)

Curufin/Finrod (sending your husband to his death (that he knew abt but didn’t tell you) and screwing up your sons and living the rest of your shortened life regretting soooo. many. things. and then having to deal with them after mandos. a bitter beautiful chaotic mess that can only end in tears)

Fingon/Varda (don’t ask: even I’m not sure—something something gil galad’s associated w/ stars and no one knows who his mom is and I like me some valar with greek god leanings)

Aegnor/Haleth (battle bros to lovers, bc haleth won’t take no for an answer like andreth did 😒)

Argon/Amarie (falling in love with your cousin’s ex was not the intention after being the first one killed/sent back. but she’s finally moving on from finrod and you’ve grown to care for her company more than you thought…)

Daeron/Beren (beren didn’t deserve luthien—this started as a joke but these two seriously deserve each other in all their squabbling glory)

Mablung/Nienor (they just. deserve happiness and peace. and lots of adorable peredhel kids. please)

Eowyn/Merry (same as above, but they have the benefit of having an entire shire to rebuild and different cultures to find wonder in and grow to love as much as their own)

idk I might be missing some but these are my thoughts on my main Tolkien rarepairs

[echo-bleu]

Curious about the Queen Nerdanel AU, if you’d like to share anything about it!

Yay, thank you!

That's also an AU that I'm really excited about, though I have written very little of it. It's (at least for now) a bullet-point fic where instead of leaving Fëanor, Nerdanel finds out early that he put too much of himself in the Silmarils and that he's ill because of it, and she stays. When Morgoth steals the Silmarils, Nerdanel is the one who goes to Beleriand to get them back, taking the role of General and Regent Queen, while Fëanor stays behind and becomes King.

It changes... a lot of things. For now I've mostly written the early parts before they leave, but some characters that would otherwise have gone will stay, and the narrative will follow both sides.

I'm not saying that it's a fix-it, but—yeah, it's a fix-it, actually. I haven't figured out everything yet, but Nerdanel is scarily efficient at putting everyone to work and resolving conflict.

For now, an early snippet:

He falls ill.

Varda’s hallowing will only burn evil, she says. Fëanáro is not evil.

The Ainur perhaps don’t quite understand how Eldar fëar work. Their own eälar can withstand any amount of abuse, and even, as the world will (or would, in a different timeline—that remains to be seen) eventually learn, the most egregious splintering.

It doesn’t burn Fëanáro’s fëa, it just exhausts it.

It makes his temper shorter, he’s prone to bouts of depression, times when he lashes out at seemingly nothing, sensory overload—all things he had before, but much stronger.

And because unlike the Ainur, he’s an incarnate, it affects his hroä as well, and he’s often lethargic, struggling to keep his energy levels constant, and he’s taken by fits of widespread nerve pain.

He isn’t successful at hiding it. The public just wonders why the Crown Prince is making so few appearances, but Nerdanel and the children are worried to see him barely able to get out of bed some days. And Finwë…

All Finwë can think about is Míriel.

As you can see, my fondness for writing disabled characters is coming through once more.

Ask me about my WIPs