#Thingol greycloak

[foedhrass]

Southward lay the guarded woods of Doriath, abode of Thingol the Hidden King, into whose realm none passed save by his will. – J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion.

Cosplay & edit: Foedhrass

Photo: little_solnyshka

[polutrope]

Throwback Thursday

Thanks @sallysavestheday and @grey-gazania for tagging me to share something from my back catalogue!

Here's an excerpt from The Magic Flute (M), a fic @moni-the-honey challenged to write when I asked who, after pairing him with Maeglin, I should pair Daeron with next. In this outrageous comedy, a disgruntled Daeron meets a disgruntled Caranthir on his way out of Beleriand. Past Daeron/Maglor, Daeron/Luthien, Caranthir/Haleth.

The pathetic elf smiled thinly and returned for another spoonful of soup. “Close,” he said, with a mysterious twitch of his mouth. “I am Daeron. I was minstrel and loremaster of Doriath.” “You were?” Caranthir leaned forward on his elbows. “What did you do to earn the disapproval of old Greycloak?”  “I didn’t,” Daeron said, “I chose to leave. King Thingol has lost his daughter.” “Lost his daughter? Hah!” That was funny, Caranthir thought, leaning back and grinning to himself. The King of Doriath could keep everyone out but he couldn’t keep his own daughter in.  “Yes, I went looking for her and… got lost.” Caranthir raised his eyebrows, still smiling over the thought of the wayward daughter. “You… got lost?” “I’d rather not talk about it any further, if that is alright with you, lord.” Daeron took a sip of his wine. “Very well. Perhaps another time.” Caranthir sat back, satisfied that his guest had decided to start addressing him with some respect. “Tell me, how did you know who I am?” “I met your brothers once. At a feast, a very long time ago.”

Read the rest on AO3 | SWG.

[imakemywings]

Wait, is grey like the symbolic color for Elwing? Is that why the House of Elrond is so grey-coded? Because I kept thinking about how Numenor is so Earendil-coded with how influential he is in that city.

Gray is the symbolic color of Thingol and that's why the house of Elrond is so gray-coded. "Elu Thingol" itself translates to "the Greymantle"/"the Greycloak."

I'm sure Earendil would be delighted to hear how Elros founded an entire city of mariners! It's a pity he never got to visit TT_TT

[vaciena]

Haleth, have you ever killed an elf?

“I’ve been extremely tempted, but no. Unfortunately.”

[thraaaaaaaanduuuuuuuuiiiiiiiiil]

thran. thran. psssst. thoughts on inter-racial marriage? like elves and dwarves makin' babies together.

“...No. Just, no. How would it even work? I...no, I can’t imagine it.Someone go find my son and make sure he isn’t chasing a Dwarf again.”

[baelatargaryen]

“The Elven-king, the character himself, is inspired by a character from Tolkien’s earlier writing, King Thingol Greycloak. Thingol, also like Thranduil, has his weaknesses and one of them is passion for jewels. King Thingol had a great quarrel with the dwarves, which is what Tolkien referred to in the Hobbit. Thingol arranges for the dwarves to make a necklace for him, but then there is a dispute over payment and ownership. The Dwarves actually went and killed Thingol in his own Halls. In revenge, the Elves go after the Dwarves and they wipe them out.”

[legolas-little-leaf]

The Fall of Gondolin (pt1)

“But Tuor looked upon the walls of stone, and the uplifted towers, upon the glistening pinnacles of the town, and he looked upon the stairs of stone and marble, bordered by slender balustrades and cooled by the leap of threadlike waterfalls seeking the plain from the Fountains of Amon Gwareth, and he fared as one in some dream of the Gods, for he deemed not such things were seen by men in the visions of their sleep, so great was his amaze at the glory of Gondolin.” (Book of Lost Tales, Volume 2 page 159)

The Fall of Gondolin (Chapter 2 in Epic sl- 'What if') Idly Legolas made his way from the Festival. Tarin Austa, the Gates of Summer celebrations were coming to a close. Long had been the laughter, the merrymaking and dancing and now a time of reflection was upon one and all. A time of silence, in the lead up to dawn; a time where no one would speak from Midnight to daybreak, but as the first rays of dawn broke the night sky, one and all would gather upon the eastern wall, to burst forth in ancient songs; giving thanks for the year that had passed and the new one coming.

In silence he passed others, watching as they hung the silver lamps and jewels of many colours from the low laying eaves of trees, entwining their fine delicate thread carefully through the branches; as not to mar a single newly formed leaf. It made him smile. For Gondolin was fairer than any other town or city one could ever imagine, and yet with the approaching dawn; as the first ray of light crossed over the snow-peaked caps of the Encircling Mountains, it would take even the coldest of hearts breath away. Such was its divine beauty and grace. Many a heartless Dignitary or even the most seasoned Warriors had stumbled to kneel, weeping freely at its indescribable beauty, and he was no different.

Legolas’s footfalls made no sound as he took the steps in twos making his way up, and onto the eastern wall. The night sky still lay shrouded in a velvet blanket of the darkest blue, laced together with a million stars that reflect the true beauty of Varda.

He was alone, alone for now with his thoughts and melody of the softly trickling waterfalls. Closing his eyes, he let the peace of his surrounding flow through him.  He had missed this! Missed Gondolin more than he had thought ever possible! Having been sent here upon the cusp of his adulthood to train; glean knowledge in battle and strategies’ befitting for his title and linage by his Ada Thranduil, and G dad Oropher. For they were Sindarin royalty whom then, had resided with Thingol Greycloak; the Elven King of Doriath within his underground city, Menegroth, the city of a thousand caves.

None of that mattered now. Time had moved on and so had his Family. Establishing a safe hold, their own underground city within the north-eastern end of the Forrest of Mirkwood, where they ruled over the Wood Elves, the Silvan Elves of Telerin descent…

He wasn’t sure how long he has closed his eyes, for a time had no real consequence. A hundred years could pass and be, but a moment to pause and reflect for his kin. It was a bittersweet luxury he had never taken any joy in. For short and beautifully sweet were the lives of his mortal friends and though like leaves, some danced a little longer upon the cold Autumn breeze, they all eventually came to pass; falling gently upon the Forrest floor.

He was no longer alone. Others had gathered. Their gaze cast silently out across the eastern Mountains watching the breaking of a strange red hue that tipped the Mountain peaks crimson like blood. Swiftly it seemed to gather within the far off crevices pooling to spill over and trickle its way down across the craggy Mountainside’s.  And as he stepped forward to lean upon the smooth warm balustrade, he heard it. The soft and distant throws of drums…Unmistakeable upon their intent.

Unforgiving in their rhythm, they were the drums of an army. The drums of war! Legolas’s brow furrowed as he leaned forward over the balustrade with the soft mumbles of worded curiosity resonating within his ears from those beside him. And as the glow grew greater still; their doubt turned to dread and panic for the night sky turned red with the approaching fire serpents of Melko’s design.

Swiftly Legolas pushed himself back from the balustrade and turned on heel calling forth” Sound the alarms!  Alert every House! War has come to Gondolin, Melko is upon us!!” Already the mountainsides were cloaked with the plain riders, Goblins and Orc’s upon the foulest of Warg’s, Creatures half-bat, half-man ran or flew beside them and then... breaching the Mountain peaks charged the Trolls and the Balrogs with wings of flame and smoke! And at that moment, Legolas despaired!

How many lives would be lost this day? How many families forever broken. How could they even hope to win against such a force? Yet try they must! For no known allies were riding to Gondolin’s aid, and if they were, unless they were already close by, they would never reach the city on time.

Purposely Legolas breathed in deep, sweeping his despair aside to focus on the fate ahead. Exhaling as he stepped forward, pushing down upon the ball of his right foot to leap nimbly up and onto the fine marble balustrade; as with a shrug, his bow travelled the length of his arm to rest within the grasp of his left hand.

 Fluently he raised his right hand across his shoulder while he adjusted his stance: pulling forth an arrow from his quiver and set it to the bow's string and raised his bow. Pulling taunt its string, to rest momentarily beside his right cheek while his sharp elven sights took aim. Trailing his target across the sky he let his arrow fly.   He did not wait to see if it had hit its mark, the screech of the whelp fire serpent plummeting towards the ground was confirmation enough!  Instead, Legolas turned, darting nimbly forward along the thin balustrade with his cloak flaying out around him; to search for higher perch upon which he could secure another target…

[whispers-of-eryn-lasgalen]

I have tried to find the quote about Thranduil having golden hair, but all I could come up with was this:

In a great hall with pillars hewn out of the living stone sat the Elvenking on a chair of carven wood. On his head was a crown of berries and red leaves, for the autumn was come again. In the spring he wore a crown of woodland flowers."

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit, Barrels Out Of Bond

I am obviously not the only one who is confused about the quote that snuck in the golden hair. I tend to think it has been cited often, but it might have found it's way into the subconscious mind of some fans via other sources than Tolkien.

My research for the quote with the golden hair often brought me to posts like this one:

Before I immersed myself into Thranduil's history, I have been RP-ing Elu Thingol, albeit for a short while. I remember vivid debates about whether the first unnamed Elvenking in the books was meant to be Thingol Greycloak.

I have to point you in the direction of Tolkien readers who specialised on Elu Thingol for details. All I remember is that Tolkien himself revealed Thranduil's name late.

So borrowing from Thingol for shaping out Thranduil is not far fetched. Peter Jackson even might have done a bit of a genius move here by connecting two loose ends of Tolkien's Legendarium. Thingol and Thranduil are not the same Ellon, the timelines would not match, but hey... logic has it the similarities can be due to Thranduil being a descendant of the direct royal bloodline of Elu Thingol... and so is his father, and so is his son.

I can see why book purists might never be able to accept the characterisation of the movies. Peter Jackson's Thranduil is based on Tolkien. And yes, Peter Jackson could have ceased giving Bard Thranduil's lines, he could have let the Elvenking be the one who is the voice of reason, the one who wanted to keep the peace, the one who acknowledged Bilbo and called him a Friend of the Elves, the one who returned Orcrist to Erebor, placing it on Thorin's grave, so it would continue to stand guard over the Lonely Mountain and warn of Orcs sneaking around.

But I digress... sorry for adding a novel to your post, @hir-nin-thranduil, my thoughts are flying so nicely. 😆😅🙈

Alright, we can see, the stories of Thingol and Thranduil are canonically intertwined, in best Tolkien manner. I wish the Professor would have found the time to shape their stories a bit more, but alas, he only had the short life of a human being.

As for the hair... we need to remember Elu Thingol aka Elwë is one of the Teleri. And so would be Thranduil. The Teleri are a subgroup among the Sindar.

Canonically, Elves of Telerian descent do have dark hair. Except the royal bloodline. Here we go:

"Elwë himself had indeed long and beautiful hair of silver hue, but this does not seem to have been a common feature of the Sindar, though it was found among them occasionally, especially in the nearer or remoter kin of Elwë (as in the case of Círdan.) In general the Sindar appear to have very closely resembled the Exiles, being dark-haired, strong and tall, but lithe. Indeed they could hardly be told apart except by their eyes; for the eyes of all the Elves that had dwelt in Aman impressed those of Middle-earth by their piercing brightness."

J. R. R. Tolkien, Christopher Tolkien. HoME XI - The War of the Jewels, Part 4: Quendi and Eldar, The Clan Names, Sindar.

Elu Thingol had a brother, Olwë. He was a Teleri, the King of Alqualondë and Galadriel's grandfather.

"Two lords they had, for their numbers were very great: Elwë Singollo, which signifies Greymantle, and Olwë his brother. The hair of Olwë was long and white, and his eyes were blue; but the hair of Elwë was grey as silver, and his eyes were as stars; he was the tallest of all the Elven-folk.”

J. R. R. Tolkien, Christopher Tolkien. HoME X - Morgoth’s Ring, Part 3, The Later Quenta Silmarillion I, Chapter 3, §27.

Another famous Ellon of Telerian descent is Círdan The Shipwright and Celeborn. Look here:

“They were clad wholly in white; and the hair of the Lady was of deep gold, and the hair of the Lord Celeborn was of silver long and bright."

J. R. R. Tolkien. The Lord of the Rings, Book II, Chapter 7.

So yes, in case you fell asleep reading my ramblings, the take home message is IF you follow the trace Professor Tolkien laid out, you will see the link between Thingol and Thranduil in the books.

Thranduil is a Teleri of the royal bloodline of Thingol. Yes, it still means he is one of the Sindar, albeit a small group.

Royal Teleri canonically have silvery-white hair. Yes, it is still true that most of the Teleri have dark hair. It is just the royal bloodline that has the rare fair hair.

If you read all this and are still here, I'll pat you on the shoulder. You are one of the few people who can listen to me without being utterly bored.

Thranduil's hair is white.

Talk to anyone who has studied art or photography, they will confirm that the color white reflects light. For example, if you wear a white shirt under a black light, it glows. Does this mean the shirt glows when it's under natural light? Of course not. Under a red light, it looks pink...under a blue light, it looks bluish....and so on. In order to see the true colors, one should always use natural light; in other words, outdoor light.

Thranduil's hair under natural light is white.

Thranduil's hair under golden light, from say, torches or firelight...(sort of like in several scenes in the films) only appears golden for this reason. This does not mean he has blonde/yellow/gold hair.

If you were to wear a yellow shirt (or any color) it does not magically turn white…ever. Only Pure White takes on colors from the light around it.

Thranduil's hair is white.

Legolas, on the other hand...well, his hair is slightly golden, but it’s more of a platinum blonde. Not gold like Galadriel’s signature locks.

But here's a hint....if someone's hair, or shirt, or dress, or shoes, whatever it is...if anything appears white at any point, under any type of light, it's white. White absorbs color....color does not absorb white.

THRANDUIL’S HAIR IS WHITE.

[gurguliare]

yavieriel replied to your photo:garden-ghoul: everyone’s favorite royal family!...

…but the Teleri aren’t blond? They’re mostly brunettes like the Noldor with exception for the royal house (Elwe/Thingol, Olwe, and Elmo) who had silver hair. Thingol translates as grey-cloak and was a reference to his hair being silver-grey.

4 GHOUL’S REFERENCE (though is that really what ‘Greycloak’ references? I didn’t realize, I just assumed he dressed matchy)

[readbookywooks]

Powers, The The Valar. Ragnir A blind servant in Hurin's house in Dor-lomin. Region* The southern forest of Doriath. Rian Cousin of Morwen; wife of Huor Hurin's brother; mother of Tuor. Rivil* Stream falling from Dorthonion to join Sirion in the Fen of Serech. Sador Woodwright, serving-man of Hurin's in Dor-lomin and friend of Turin in his childhood, by whom he was called Labadal. Saeros Elf of Doriath, a counsellor of Thingol, hostile to Turin. Sauron's Isle Tol Sirion. Serech* The great fen north of the Pass of Sirion, where the river Rivil flowed in from Dorthonion. Shadowy Mountains See Ered Wethrin. Sharbhund Dwarvish name of Amon Rûdh. Sindarin Grey-elven, the Elvish tongue of Beleriand. See Grey-elves. Sirion* The great river of Beleriand, rising at Eithel Sirion. Sons of Feanor See Feanor. The seven sons held lands in East Beleriand. South Road* The ancient road from Tol Sirion to Nargothrond by the Crossings of Teiglin. Spyhill, The See Amon Ethir. Strawheads Name given to the People of Hador by the Easterlings in Hithlum. Strongbow Name of Beleg; see Cuthalion. Talath Dirnen* 'The Guarded Plain', north of Nargothrond. Taur-nu-Fuin* 'Forest under Night', later name of Dorthonion. Teiglin* A tributary of Sirion rising in the Shadowy Mountains and flowing through the Forest of Brethil. See Crossings of Teiglin. Telchar Renowned smith of Nogrod. Telperion The White Tree, elder of the Two Trees that gave light to Valinor. Thangorodrim 'Mountains of Tyranny', reared by Morgoth over Angband. Thingol 'Greycloak', King of Doriath, overlord of the Grey-elves (Sindar); wedded to Melian the Maia; father of Luthien. Thorondor 'King of Eagles' (cf. The Return of the King VI.4: 'old Thorondor, who built his eyries in the inaccessible peaks of the Encircling Mountains when Middle-earth was young'). Three Houses (of the Edain) The Houses of Beor, Haleth, and Hador. Thurin 'The Secret', name given to Turin by Finduilas. Tol Sirion* Island in the river in the Pass of Sirion on which Finrod built the tower of Minas Tirith; afterwards taken by Sauron. Tumhalad* Valley in West Beleriand between the rivers Ginglith and Narog where the host of Nargothrond was defeated. Tumladen The hidden vale in the Encircling Mountains where the city of Gondolin stood. Tuor Son of Huor and Rian; cousin of Turin and father of Earendil. Turambar 'Master of Doom', name taken by Turin among the Men of Brethil. Turgon Second son of King Fingolfin and brother of Fingon; founder and king of Gondolin. Turin Son of Hurin and Morwen, chief subject of the lay named Narn i Chin Hurin. For his other names see Neithan, Gorthol, Agarwaen, Thurin, Adanedhel, Mormegil (Black Sword), Wild Man of the Woods, Turambar. Twilit Meres* Region of marshes and pools where the Aros flowed into Sirion. Uldor the Accursed A leader of the Easterlings who was slain in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. Ulmo One of the great Valar, 'Lord of Waters'. Ulrad A member of the outlaw band that Turin joined. umarth 'Ill-fate', a fictitious name for his father given out by Turin in Nargothrond. Unnumbered Tears The battle of Nirnaeth Arnoediad. Urwen Daughter of Hurin and Morwen who died in childhood; called Lalaith 'Laughter'. Valar 'The Powers', those great spirits that entered the World at the beginning of time. Valinor The land of the Valar in the West, beyond the Great Sea. Varda The greatest of the Queens of the Valar, the spouse of Manwe. Wildman of the Woods Name taken by Turin when he first came among the Men of Brethil. Wolf-men See Gaurwaith. Woodmen Dwellers in the woods south of Teiglin, plundered by the Gaurwaith. Year of Lamentation The year of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad. Younger Children Men. See Children of Iluvatar. NOTE ON THE MAP This map is closely based on that in the published Silmarillion, which was itself derived from the map that my father made in the 1930s, and which he never replaced, but used for all his subsequent work. The formalised, and obviously very selective, representations of mountains, hills and forests are imitated from his style. In this redrawing I have introduced certain differences, intended to simplify it and to make it more expressly applicable to the tale of The Children of Hurin. Thus it does not extend eastward to include Ossiriand and the Blue Mountains, and certain geographical features are omitted; while (with a few exceptions) only names that actually occur in the text of the tale are marked. CHAPTER I THE CHILDHOOD OF TuRIN Hador Goldenhead was a lord of the Edain and well-beloved by the Eldar. He dwelt while his days lasted under the lordship of Fingolfin, who gave to him wide lands in that region of Hithlum which was called Dor-lomin. His daughter Gloredhel wedded Haldir son of Halmir, lord of the Men of Brethil; and at the same feast his son Galdor the Tall wedded Hareth, the daughter of Halmir. Galdor and Hareth had two sons, Hurin and Huor. Hurin was by three years the elder, but he was shorter in stature than other men of his kin; in this he took after his mother's people, but in all else he was like Hador, his grandfather, strong in body and fiery of mood. But the fire in him burned steadily, and he had great endurance of will. Of all Men of the North he knew most of the counsels of the Noldor. Huor his brother was tall, the tallest of all the Edain save his own son Tuor only, and a swift runner; but if the race were long and hard Hurin would be the first home, for he ran as strongly at the end of the course as at the beginning. There was great love between the brothers, and they were seldom apart in their youth. Hurin wedded Morwen, the daughter of Baragund son of Bregolas of the House of Beor; and she was thus of close kin to Beren One-hand. Morwen was dark-haired and tall, and for the light of her glance and the beauty of her face men called her Eledhwen, the elven-fair; but she was somewhat stern of mood and proud. The sorrows of the House of Beor saddened her heart; for she came as an exile to Dor-lomin from Dorthonion after the ruin of the Bragollach. Turin was the name of the eldest child of Hurin and Morwen, and he was born in that year in which Beren came to Doriath and found Luthien Tinuviel, Thingol's daughter. Morwen bore a daughter also to Hurin, and she was named Urwen; but she was called Lalaith, which is Laughter, by all that knew her in her short life. Huor wedded Rian, the cousin of Morwen; she was the daughter of Belegund son of Bregolas. By hard fate was she born into such days, for she was gentle of heart and loved neither hunting nor war. Her love was given to trees and to the flowers of the wild, and she was a singer and a maker of songs. Two months only had she been wedded to Huor when he went with his brother to the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, and she never saw him again. But now the tale returns to Hurin and Huor in the days of their youth. It is said that for a while the sons of Galdor dwelt in Brethil as foster-sons of Haldir their uncle, after the custom of Northern men in those days. They often went to battle with the Men of Brethil against the Orcs, who now harried the northern borders of their land; for Hurin, though only seventeen years of age, was strong, and Huor the younger was already as tall as most full-grown men of that people. On a time Hurin and Huor went with a company of scouts, but they were ambushed by the Orcs and scattered, and the brothers were pursued to the ford of Brithiach. There they would have been taken or slain but for the power of Ulmo that was still strong in the waters of Sirion; and it is said that a mist arose from the river and hid them from their enemies, and they escaped over the Brithiach into Dimbar. There they wandered in great hardship among the hills beneath the sheer walls of the Crissaegrim, until they were bewildered in the deceits of that land and knew not the way to go on or to return. There Thorondor espied them, and he sent two of his Eagles to their aid; and the Eagles bore them up and brought them beyond the Encircling Mountains to the secret vale of Tumladen and the hidden city of Gondolin, which no Man had yet seen. There Turgon the King received them well, when he learned of their kin; for Hador was an Elf-friend, and Ulmo, moreover, had counselled Turgon to deal kindly with the sons of that House, from whom help should come to him at need. Hurin and Huor dwelt as guests in the King's house for well nigh a year; and it is said that in this time Hurin, whose mind was swift and eager, gained much lore of the Elves, and learned also something of the counsels and purposes of the King. For Turgon took great liking for the sons of Galdor, and spoke much with them; and he wished indeed to keep them in Gondolin out of love, and not only for his law that no stranger, be he Elf or Man, who found the way to the secret kingdom or looked upon the city should ever depart again, until the King should open the leaguer, and the hidden people should come forth. But Hurin and Huor desired to return to their own people and share in the wars and griefs that now beset them. And Hurin said to Turgon: 'Lord, we are but mortal Men, and unlike the Eldar. They may endure for long years awaiting battle with their enemies in some far distant day; but for us the time is short, and our hope and strength soon wither. Moreover we did not find the road to Gondolin, and indeed we do not know surely where this city stands; for we were brought in fear and wonder by the high ways of the air, and in mercy our eyes were veiled.' Then Turgon granted his prayer, and he said: 'By the way that you came you have leave to return, if Thorondor is willing. I grieve at this parting; yet in a little while, as the Eldar account it, we may meet again.' But Maeglin, the King's sister-son, who was mighty in Gondolin, grieved not at all at their going, though he begrudged them the favour of the King, for he had no love for any of the kindred of Men; and he said to Hurin: 'The King's grace is greater than you know, and some might wonder wherefore the strict law is abated for two knave-children of Men. It would be safer if they had no choice but to abide here as our servants to their life's end.' 'The King's grace is great indeed,' answered Hurin, 'but if our word is not enough, then we will swear oaths to you.' And the brothers swore never to reveal the counsels of Turgon, and to keep secret all that they had seen in his realm. Then they took their leave, and the Eagles coming bore them away by night, and set them down in Dor-lomin before the dawn. Their kinsfolk rejoiced to see them, for messengers from Brethil had reported that they were lost; but they would not tell even to their father where they had been, save that they were rescued in the wilderness by the Eagles that brought them home. But Galdor said: 'Did you then dwell a year in the wild? Or did the Eagles house you in their eyries? But you found food and fine raiment, and return as young princes, not as waifs of the wood.' 'Be content, father,' said Hurin, 'that we have returned; for only under an oath of silence was this permitted. That oath is still on us.' Then Galdor questioned them no more, but he and many others guessed at the truth. For both the oath of silence and the Eagles pointed to Turgon, men thought. So the days passed, and the shadow of the fear of Morgoth lengthened. But in the four hundred and sixty-ninth year after the return of the Noldor to Middle-earth there was a stirring of hope among Elves and Men; for the rumour ran among them of the deeds of Beren and Luthien, and the putting to shame of Morgoth even upon his throne in Angband, and some said that Beren and Luthien yet lived, or had returned from the Dead. In that year also the great counsels of Maedhros were almost complete, and with the reviving strength of the Eldar and the Edain the advance of Morgoth was stayed, and the Orcs were driven back from Beleriand. Then some began to speak of victories to come, and of redressing the Battle of the Bragollach, when Maedhros should lead forth the united hosts, and drive Morgoth underground, and seal the Doors of Angband. But the wiser were uneasy still, fearing that Maedhros revealed his growing strength too soon, and that Morgoth would be given time enough to take counsel against him. 'Ever will some new evil be hatched in Angband beyond the guess of Elves and Men,' they said. And in the autumn of that year, to point their words, there came an ill wind from the North under leaden skies. The Evil Breath it was called, for it was pestilent; and many sickened and died in the fall of the year in the northern lands that bordered on the Anfauglith, and they were for the most part the children or the rising youth in the houses of Men. In that year Turin son of Hurin was yet only five years old, and Urwen his sister was three in the beginning of spring. Her hair was like the yellow lilies in the grass as she ran in the fields, and her laughter was like the sound of the merry stream that came singing out of the hills past the walls of her father's house. Nen Lalaith it was named, and after it all the people of the household called the child Lalaith, and their hearts were glad while she was among them. But Turin was loved less than she. He was dark-haired as his mother, and promised to be like her in mood also; for he was not merry, and spoke little, though he learned to speak early and ever seemed older than his years. Turin was slow to forget injustice or mockery; but the fire of his father was also in him, and he could be sudden and fierce. Yet he was quick to pity, and the hurts or sadness of living things might move him to tears; and he was like his father in this also, for Morwen was stern with others as with herself. He loved his mother, for her speech to him was forthright and plain; but his father he saw little, for Hurin was often long away from home with the host of Fingon that guarded Hithlum's eastern borders, and when he returned his quick speech, full of strange words and jests and half-meanings, bewildered Turin and made him uneasy. At that time all the warmth of his heart was for Lalaith his sister; but he played with her seldom, and liked better to guard her unseen and to watch her going upon grass or under tree, as she sang such songs as the children of the Edain made long ago when the tongue of the Elves was still fresh upon their lips. 'Fair as an Elf-child is Lalaith,' said Hurin to Morwen; 'but briefer, alas! And so fairer, maybe, or dearer.' And Turin hearing these words pondered them, but could not understand them. For he had seen no Elf-children. None of the Eldar at that time dwelt in his father's lands, and once only had he seen them, when King Fingon and many of his lords had ridden through Dor-lomin and passed over the bridge of Nen Lalaith, glittering in silver and white. But before the year was out the truth of his father's words was shown; for the Evil Breath came to Dor-lomin, and Turin took sick, and lay long in a fever and dark dream. And when he was healed, for such was his fate and the strength of life that was in him, he asked for Lalaith. But his nurse answered: 'Speak no more of Lalaith, son of Hurin; but of your sister Urwen you must ask tidings of your mother.' And when Morwen came to him, Turin said to her: 'I am no longer sick, and I wish to see Urwen; but why must I not say Lalaith any more?' 'Because Urwen is dead, and laughter is stilled in this house,' she answered. 'But you live, son of Morwen; and so does the Enemy who has done this to us.' She did not seek to comfort him any more than herself; for she met her grief in silence and coldness of heart. But Hurin mourned openly, and he took up his harp and would make a song of lamentation; but he could not, and he broke his harp, and going out he lifted up his hand towards the North, crying: 'Marrer of Middle-earth, would that I might see you face to face, and mar you as my lord Fingolfin did!' But Turin wept bitterly at night alone, though to Morwen he never again spoke the name of his sister. To one friend only he turned at that time, and to him he spoke of his sorrow and the emptiness of the house. This friend was named Sador, a house-man in the service of Hurin; he was lame, and of small account. He had been a woodman, and by ill-luck or the mishandling of his axe he had hewn his right foot, and the footless leg had shrunken; and Turin called him Labadal, which is 'Hopafoot', though the name did not displease Sador, for it was given in pity and not in scorn. Sador worked in the outbuildings, to make or mend things of little worth that were needed in the house, for he had some skill in the working of wood; and Turin would fetch him what he lacked, to spare his leg, and sometimes he would carry off secretly some tool or piece of timber that he found unwatched, if he thought his friend might use it. Then Sador smiled, but bade him return the gifts to their places; 'Give with a free hand, but give only your own,' he said. He rewarded as he could the kindness of the child, and carved for him the figures of men and beasts; but Turin delighted most in Sador's tales, for he had been a young man in the days of the Bragollach, and loved now to dwell upon the short days of his full manhood before his maiming. 'That was a great battle, they say, son of Hurin. I was called from my tasks in the wood in the need of that year; but I was not in the Bragollach, or I might have got my hurt with more honour. For we came too late, save to bear back the bier of the old lord, Hador, who fell in the guard of King Fingolfin. I went for a soldier after that, and I was in Eithel Sirion, the great fort of the Elf-kings, for many years; or so it seems now, and the dull years since have little to mark them. In Eithel Sirion I was when the Black King assailed it, and Galdor your father's father was the captain there in the King's stead. He was slain in that assault; and I saw your father take up his lordship and his command, though but new come to manhood. There was a fire in him that made the sword hot in his hand, they said. Behind him we drove the Orcs into the sand; and they have not dared to come within sight of the walls since that day. But alas! my love of battle was sated, for I had seen spilled blood and wounds enough; and I got leave to come back to the woods that I yearned for. And there I got my hurt; for a man that flies from his fear may find that he has only taken a short cut to meet it.' In this way Sador would speak to Turin as he grew older; and Turin began to ask many questions that Sador found hard to answer, thinking that others nearer akin should have had the teaching. And one day Turin said to him: 'Was Lalaith indeed like an Elf-child, as my father said? And what did he mean, when he said that she was briefer?' 'Very like,' said Sador; 'for in their first youth the children of Men and Elves seem close akin. But the children of Men grow more swiftly, and their youth passes soon; such is our fate.' Then Turin asked him: 'What is fate?' 'As to the fate of Men,' said Sador, 'you must ask those that are wiser than Labadal. But as all can see, we weary soon and die; and by mischance many meet death even sooner. But the Elves do not weary, and they do not die save by great hurt. From wounds and griefs that would slay Men they may be healed; and even when their bodies are marred they return again, some say. It is not so with us.' 'Then Lalaith will not come back?' said Turin. 'Where has she gone?' 'She will not come back,' said Sador. 'But where she has gone no man knows; or I do not.' 'Has it always been so? Or do we suffer some curse of the wicked King, perhaps, like the Evil Breath?' 'I do not know. A darkness lies behind us, and out of it few tales have come. The fathers of our fathers may have had things to tell, but they did not tell them. Even their names are forgotten. The Mountains stand between us and the life that they came from, flying from no man now knows what.' 'Were they afraid?' said Turin. 'It may be,' said Sador. 'It may be that we fled from the fear of the Dark, only to find it here before us, and nowhere else to fly to but the Sea.' 'We are not afraid any longer,' said Turin, 'not all of us. My father is not afraid, and I will not be; or at least, as my mother, I will be afraid and not show it.' It seemed then to Sador that Turin's eyes were not the eyes of a child, and he thought: 'Grief is a hone to a hard mind.' But aloud he said: 'Son of Hurin and Morwen, how it will be with your heart Labadal cannot guess; but seldom and to few will you show what is in it.' Then Turin said: 'Perhaps it is better not to tell what you wish, if you cannot have it. But I wish, Labadal, that I were one of the Eldar. Then Lalaith might come back, and I should still be here, even if she were long away. I shall go as a soldier with an Elf-king as soon as I am able, as you did, Labadal.' 'You may learn much of them,' said Sador, and he sighed. 'They are a fair folk and wonderful, and they have a power over the hearts of Men. And yet I think sometimes that it might have been better if we had never met them, but had walked in lowlier ways. For already they are ancient in knowledge; and they are proud and enduring. In their light we are dimmed, or we burn with too quick a flame, and the weight of our doom lies the heavier on us.' 'But my father loves them,' said Turin, 'and he is not happy without them. He says that we have learned nearly all that we know from them, and have been made a nobler people; and he says that the Men that have lately come over the Mountains are hardly better than Orcs.' 'That is true,' answered Sador; 'true at least of some of us. But the up-climbing is painful, and from high places it is easy to fall low.' At this time Turin was almost eight years old, in the month of Gwaeron in the reckoning of the Edain, in the year that cannot be forgotten. Already there were rumours among his elders of a great mustering and gathering of arms, of which Turin heard nothing; though he marked that his father often looked steadfastly at him, as a man might look at something dear that he must part from. Now Hurin, knowing her courage and her guarded tongue, often spoke with Morwen of the designs of the Elven-kings, and of what might befall, if they went well or ill. His heart was high with hope, and he had little fear for the outcome of the battle; for it did not seem to him that any strength in Middle-earth could overthrow the might and splendour of the Eldar. 'They have seen the Light in the West,' he said, 'and in the end Darkness must flee from their faces.' Morwen did not gainsay him; for in Hurin's company the hopeful ever seemed the more likely. But there was knowledge of Elven-lore in her kindred also, and to herself she said: 'And yet did they not leave the Light, and are they not now shut out from it? It may be that the Lords of the West have put them out of their thought; and how then can even the Elder Children overcome one of the Powers?' No shadow of such doubt seemed to lie on Hurin Thalion; yet one morning in the spring of that year he awoke heavy as after unquiet sleep, and a cloud lay on his brightness that day; and in the evening he said suddenly: 'When I am summoned, Morwen Eledhwen, I shall leave in your keeping the heir of the House of Hador. The lives of Men are short, and in them there are many ill chances, even in time of peace.' 'That has ever been so,' she answered. 'But what lies under your words?' 'Prudence, not doubt,' said Hurin; yet he looked troubled. 'But one who looks forward must see this: that things will not remain as they were. This will be a great throw, and one side must fall lower than it now stands. If it be the Elven-kings that fall, then it must go evilly with the Edain; and we dwell nearest to the Enemy. This land might pass into his dominion. But if things do go ill, I will not say to you: Do not be afraid! For you fear what should be feared, and that only; and fear does not dismay you. But I say: Do not wait! I shall return to you as I may, but do not wait! Go south as swiftly as you can �C if I live I shall follow, and I shall find you, though I have to search through all Beleriand.' 'Beleriand is wide, and houseless for exiles,' said Morwen. 'Whither should I flee, with few or with many?' Then Hurin thought for a while in silence. 'There is my mother's kin in Brethil,' he said. 'That is some thirty leagues, as the eagle flies.' 'If such an evil time should indeed come, what help would there be in Men?' said Morwen. 'The House of Beor has fallen. If the great House of Hador falls, in what holes shall the little Folk of Haleth creep?' 'In such as they can find,' said Hurin. 'But do not doubt their valour, though they are few and unlearned. Where else is hope?' 'You do not speak of Gondolin,' said Morwen. 'No, for that name has never passed my lips,' said Hurin. 'Yet the word is true that you have heard: I have been there. But I tell you now truly, as I have told no other, and will not: I do not know where it stands.' 'But you guess, and guess near, I think,' said Morwen. 'It may be so,' said Hurin. 'But unless Turgon himself released me from my oath, I could not tell that guess, even to you; and therefore your search would be vain. But were I to speak, to my shame, you would at best but come at a shut gate; for unless Turgon comes out to war (and of that no word has been heard, and it is not hoped) no one will come in.' 'Then if your kin are not hopeful, and your friends deny you,' said Morwen, 'I must take counsel for myself; and to me now comes the thought of Doriath.' 'Ever your aim is high,' said Hurin. 'Over-high, you would say?' said Morwen. 'But last of all defences will the Girdle of Melian be broken, I think; and the House of Beor will not be despised in Doriath. Am I not now kin of the king? For Beren son of Barahir was grandson of Bregor, as was my father also.' 'My heart does not lean to Thingol,' said Hurin. 'No help will come from him to King Fingon; and I know not what shadow falls on my spirit when Doriath is named.' 'At the name of Brethil my heart also is darkened,' said Morwen. Then suddenly Hurin laughed, and he said: 'Here we sit debating things beyond our reach, and shadows that come out of dream. Things will not go so ill; but if they do, then to your courage and counsel all is committed. Do then what your heart bids you; but do it swiftly. And if we gain our ends, then the Elven-kings are resolved to restore all the fiefs of Beor's house to his heir; and that is you, Morwen daughter of Baragund. Wide lordships we should then wield, and a high inheritance come to our son. Without the malice in the North he should come to great wealth, and be a king among Men.' 'Hurin Thalion,' said Morwen, 'this I judge truer to say: that you look high, but I fear to fall low.' 'That at the worst you need not fear,' said Hurin. That night Turin half-woke, and it seemed to him that his father and mother stood beside his bed, and looked down on him in the light of the candles that they held; but he could not see their faces. On the morning of Turin's birthday Hurin gave his son a gift, an Elf-wrought knife, and the hilt and the sheath were silver and black; and he said: 'Heir of the House of Hador, here is a gift for the day. But have a care! It is a bitter blade, and steel serves only those that can wield it. It will cut your hand as willingly as aught else.' And setting Turin on a table he kissed his son, and said: 'You overtop me already, son of Morwen; soon you will be as high on your own feet. In that day many may fear your blade.' Then Turin ran from the room and went away alone, and in his heart was a warmth like the warmth of the sun upon the cold earth that sets growth astir. He repeated to himself his father's words, Heir of the House of Hador; but other words came also to his mind: Give with a free hand, but give of your own. And he went to Sador and cried: 'Labadal, it is my birthday, the birthday of the heir of the House of Hador! And I have brought you a gift to mark the day. Here is a knife, just such as you need; it will cut anything that you wish, as fine as a hair.' Then Sador was troubled, for he knew well that Turin had himself received the knife that day; but men held it a grievous thing to refuse a free-given gift from any hand. He spoke then to him gravely: 'You come of a generous kin, Turin son of Hurin. I have done nothing to equal your gift, and I cannot hope to do better in the days that are left to me; but what I can do, I will.' And when Sador drew the knife from the sheath he said: 'This is a gift indeed: a blade of elven steel. Long have I missed the feel of it.' Hurin soon marked that Turin did not wear the knife, and he asked him whether his warning had made him fear it. Then Turin answered: 'No; but I gave the knife to Sador the woodwright.' 'Do you then scorn your father's gift?' said Morwen; and again Turin answered: 'No; but I love Sador, and I am sorry for him.' Then Hurin said: 'All three gifts were your own to give, Turin: love, pity, and the knife the least.' 'Yet I doubt if Sador deserves them,' said Morwen. 'He is self-maimed by his own want of skill, and he is slow with his tasks, for he spends much time on trifles unbidden.' 'Give him pity nonetheless,' said Hurin. 'An honest hand and a true heart may hew amiss; and the harm may be harder to bear than the work of a foe.' 'But you must wait now for another blade,' said Morwen. 'Thus the gift shall be a true gift and at your own cost.' Nonetheless Turin marked that Sador was treated more kindly thereafter, and was set now to the making of a great chair for the lord to sit on in his hall. There came a bright morning in the month of Lothron when Turin was roused by sudden trumpets; and running to the doors he saw in the court a great press of men on foot and on horse, and all fully armed as for war. There also stood Hurin, and he spoke to the men and gave commands; and Turin learned that they were setting out that day for Barad Eithel. These were Hurin's guards and household men; but all the men of his land that could be spared were summoned. Some had gone already with Huor his father's brother; and many others would join the Lord of Dor-lomin on the road, and go behind his banner to the great muster of the King. Then Morwen bade farewell to Hurin without tears; and she said: 'I will guard what you leave in my keeping, both what is and what shall be.'

[absynthe--minded]

Okay but why do so many people fight so hard for the “Fëanor was a free-thinking liberal secular humanist!!!!!” characterization when he’s 1. clearly part of a reactionary faction aiming for the generally conservative goal of Returning To The Way Things Were 2. “secular humanist” doesn’t describe his views at all - being angry at metaphysical demigods for governing and guiding your life doesn’t mean you don’t believe in them, and not wanting them around is not the same as thinking they aren’t important 3. Thingol. Thingol is who you’re looking for. Thingol “I am King of all Beleriand and the Valar stranded me here and I’m going to build a realm that’s as great as theirs all by my damn self” Greycloak.

[foedhrass]

Elu Greycloak's grey (silver) cloak.

Thingol cosplay by me, photo by Noldorheart (IG)