#Ulfang

[myceliumelium]

Maglor's duel with Ulfang the traitor. This episode is so interesting to me bc we don't often see Maglor taking initiative and doing something on his own. He acts very much as one of Maedhros' follower, but I think that this moment and his mercy for elrond and elros are the two defining actions that shape his character in my head.

[lamemaster]

Return of the Traitor

Request: Literally no one. Not a single soul.

Pairing: Maedhros x Reader

Genre: fluff, fix it-ish?

Summary: You have returned to Himring, to him, whom you are no more than a traitor.

AN: This has been in draft since Himring fell...

"With all due respect," the realtor squeaked, his voice a strained octave higher than usual. "This property has been on the market for centuries. Every venture initiated here has ended in heavy losses, not to mention the…spectral reports." He shot a nervous glance towards the crumbling ramparts.

A grim smile played on your lips. "Losses are one thing," you drawled, tracing the rough stone of the wall with your fingertips. "But some things are worth the risk, wouldn't you agree?" The realtor, a man whose immaculate suit seemed woefully out of place amidst the decay, coughed nervously.

You were back in Himring, the once-proud fortress of the first Feanorion. Centuries had passed since the ocean reclaimed it, but time seemed to hold no sway here. The wind howled through shattered windows, carrying whispers of a forgotten past.

The ancient craftsmanship still held. "Damn elves and their unrelenting craft," you muttered under your breath.

Ignoring the realtor's stammering protests, you strode purposefully into the dark halls. The halls of your dear nemesis. Wondering if you would have the pleasure of stumbling upon his wraith.

Hope, a fragile thing nurtured by years of longing and yearning, flickered in your chest. Perhaps, just perhaps, you would find him here. Maedhros, your nemesis, your lover, the ghost who unknowingly haunted your every waking moment.

You came looking for the unfairly handsome elven lord, who remained the most charming single-handedly, you snickered at your joke imagining the eye-roll Maedhros would have rewarded you with had you uttered such words in his presence.

The past. A time when love bloomed effortless and potent, strong enough to lure you across the vast expanse from the Eastern lands to stand at your lord's side.

But was he still your lord? The guilt gnawed at you, a constant companion. After everything you'd done, such a title felt like a cruel joke. Not a lord, not a friend, not even a lover could you ever deserve after causing the fall of Himring.

You, Ulfang the chieftain, became the fall of Himring. You, who was the cause of estrangement of the firstborn and secondborn. The idiotic chieftain who lost everything in one gamble. The weight of that choice, the burden of countless lives lost, pressed down on you like an invisible mountain.

Now you stand, entrapped in the gray area of past and present. Even death had failed to take Maedhros away from you. He lived still in your mind, body, and soul.

"I am here Maedhros," you whisper to the winds that rush through his fort. "Try not to kill me." You add as a second thought.

Day one started with a bang. Or, more accurately, a clumsy stumble. Despite a surprisingly good night's sleep (considering the freezing halls and the weight of the past), you woke up way past sunrise.

Stumbling outside, you squinted at the sky, a canvas of swirling gray. Rain, fantastic. Just what you needed. But a frown did little to deter you.

With a disgruntled sigh, you hefted the "saplings" you'd dragged all the way to the fortress. "Saplings" being a generous term for the small, but decidedly unyielding trees you clutched in your arms.

These weren't your typical saplings. No sir, these were chosen with meticulous care. Flowering Jasmines, delicate Gardenias, and yes, even a tangled mass of Rose vines – a blatant nod to Maedhros' preferences.

If Manwe had rain planned then you might as well make use of it.

Of course, you hadn't forgotten about practicality either. Tucked amongst the fragrant blooms were a healthy assortment of vegetables – you weren't about to starve to death while playing gardener.

Perched precariously on the crumbling balcony, you busied yourself adding some delicate periwinkles to the mix. That was, until your foot met a rogue root with the grace of a drunken bear. With a surprised yelp, you went sprawling – a tangle of limbs and saplings tumbling down towards the damp earth below.

The first sensation that registered was the bite of freezing rain stinging your face. Then came the thrum of pain, a low ache traveling from your shin all the way up to your hip. You lay there for a moment, the rain drumming a steady rhythm on your body.

Suddenly, the air seemed to shift. A new sound, a soft rustling perhaps, or a presence that settled on the world like a heavy cloak. Your breath hitched in your throat. Maedhros had finally graced you with his… attention.

A slow smile spread across your face, a blend of sheepishness and something else – a spark of defiance, a hint of something you hoped wasn't misplaced hope. "Well, hello there," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the rain.

Falling from the balconies, getting trapped in musty rooms – these became your daily routines. The aches and pains were starting to accumulate, a dull throb in your ankle a constant reminder of your latest tumble. Despite the new collection of scratches and a growing limp, your spirit remained defiant. You were, after all, the same old you.

"By eru! Auugh-" You spit your soup coughing unrelentingly in the lonesome dining hall. "Oh my, that almost took me out," you panted, your tongue feeling like a desert after a sandstorm. "Soup of death, or perhaps a bowl of salt with a reluctant splash of broth?"

"Did not know death made trolls out of elves..." you chuckle giving up on the idea of dinner. "Or is it just you, my love?" You speak to the empty room. Bemused that the idea of Maedehros' antics.

Pushing the offending dish away with a grimace. Giving up on dinner, you surveyed the desolate hall. A flicker of sadness crossed your features as you noticed a chipped teacup lying forgotten on the floor. It was a simple thing, but it reminded you of a brighter time, a time when laughter filled this room.

A sigh escaped your lips. Why torture yourself with such memories? With a determined glint in your eye, you pushed yourself up from the table, ignoring the protest from your injured ankle. You were here for a reason, and a little soup-induced near-death experience wasn't going to deter you.

"Do whatever you must," you declared, a hint of bravado lacing your voice. You addressed the empty room, a bemused smirk playing on your lips. "I will not leave." As if on cue, a sudden crackle erupted from the fireplace behind you, sending a shower of sparks dancing into the air.

"I have nowhere else to be," you continued, feeling a familiar warmth bloom in your chest. He was here. He had to be. or you were having some very personal conversations with a random spirit.

A cold gust of wind swept through the hall, extinguishing a nearby candle with a hiss. You shivered, a flicker of vulnerability replacing your bravado.

"And if you think killing me will rid you of my presence," you continued, your voice gaining strength with each word, "you are sorely mistaken. This time, I will not leave. Not even in death. So pray to your Valar that I do not die and join you as a wraith, forever tethered to this accursed place."

You declare with borrowed confidence from your stupid past self.

Maedhros loathes you. He despises you. The way you are different yet achingly familiar, the way your body moves in a similar fashion, yet your hair shines differently in the sun – it is a constant torment.

He despises the wretched hope that blooms in his chest at your sight. Hope before, resentment. A racing heart before a broken one.

But he is not unchanged either. Times have worn him into a resentful sprite. A wraith instead of the elven lord you remember. A bitter existence opposite of what you remember.

At least that's what he tells himself as he watches you passed out in the rain or when he sees you throwing away another inedible dinner.

He wants you gone. He yearns to be free from the constant reminder of his failures, the embodiment of a love that has brought him nothing but ruin.

He will never offer you the solace you crave, the forgiveness you desperately seek. Love, absolution, even a semblance of the tenderness he once held for you – these are things he has long since locked away, burying them deep beneath the layers of his self-imposed exile.

At least that is what he tells himself.

He wants you gone, yes, but the thought of you suffering gnaws at him like a persistent ache.

He will never admit it, but he finds himself drawn to you. Following you into his own, long-abandoned chambers was an act of… what? Curiosity? A morbid fascination? Whatever it was, the sight of you dusting the ancient tomes he hadn't touched in millennia sent a jolt through him.

For a fleeting moment, time seemed to warp. You were both in the same room, you dusting the shelves, talking in your usual way, oblivious to his presence.

And for once, Maedhros allowed himself to simply look at you. Not with the burning hatred he has cultivated for so long, but with a… a wistfulness he can not explain.

He even finds himself replying to your nonsensical chatter about fearing toads. It is a small indulgence, a rebellion against the prison of his own making.

The illusion is shattered with a deafening crack. The rickety bookshelf groans and then collapses, a cascade of heavy tomes raining down on you. Maedhros reacts on instinct, a desperate lunge forward that would have been pointless given his form.

As expected you pass through his outstretched arms, a wisp of smoke, landing with a surprised yelp on the dusty bed. A cloud of dust erupts, momentarily obscuring the room. When it settles, his breath hitches in his throat.

Your eyes are wide and startled, fixed on him. Your mouth is agape, and your eyes, glistening with something other than dust?

A tremor runs through Maedhros, with something he dare not name. Could it be…? No. It had to be just the dust. Just the dust.

[athrabeth-me-ah-also-me]

Ulfang and the boys after making the deal with Morgoth to betray Fëanorians

[aylen-san]

Ulfang, whose name sounds like thunder,

Under the shadows, where the night is moonless,

Where treachery is like the air of the earth,

He spoke among his own.

A treacherous man with a heart of ice,

Within the walls of the East he coiled like a serpent,

He swore loyalty and lied without shame.

But his soul was a black abyss, an abyss, dead.

He knew his word was a blade,

But behind it was always fear.

Ulfang is a traitor whose step is cruel,

Everything that shines will be destroyed by the earth.

But no matter how fierce and strong he is,

All that he has built will fade like darkness.

Ulfang has fallen, dead in his wickedness,

His ashes will be swallowed by the earth.

[khr-guilded-cage]

A evil father and his three evil sons is a trope I weirdly liked since Ulfang

[grey-gazania]

Tell us about your Easterling conlang! Was it inspired by any real world languages?

No real-world languages at the moment, at least not consciously, though once I get deeper into developing the grammar that may happen. Tolkien doesn't give us much for the Easterling languages, just a few names. (I know he later changed his mind and said Bor & Family and Ulfang & Family were Easterling names and not Sindarin, but I find it too hard to swallow that Bor and Uldor just happened to have names that were cognates with Sindarin terms reflecting their choices in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.)

So I took some of the sounds that Tolkien seems to have disliked, and then I used the OT constraint model to develop a functional phonology. I ended up with a quantity-sensitive monopodal language with syllable structures of CX(C) and CX:, where X is anything more sonorant than a glide. Its feet are trochees and are aligned with the left side of the word. It requires onsets and CC-voice-agreement, and bans epenthesis and adjacent identical segments. It also bans [g] in outputs. It allows complex clusters and deletion when necessary to prevent violations of higher-ranked constraints. It does not force agreement in place of articulation.

It's called Lathtesh ('speech'). The Easterlings call themselves Rikishim ('sun-people').  The plural morpheme is -ishim, though the output obviously changes based on the noun it's modifying. So nuv ('mountain') becomes nuvishim, but ki ('person') becomes kishim because *kiishim would violate the Onset constraint, and *ki?ishim (? = glottal stop) would violate the Dep constraint. Brodda ('wolf') becomes broddashim for the same reasons, as well as the additional reason that *broddishim would violate the Max-Root constraint.

(Just to make things more fun: the input that leads to ri ('sun) is actually /iri/, so if for some reason you wanted to make the compound word 'mountain-sun' you'd actually end up with nuviri, not *nuvri.)

Verb conjugations are not gendered. The first-person plural morpheme is -li, and the third-person singular is -o. So verbs ending in consonants are easy - khavral ('to be', with kh being the voiceless uvular fricative) becomes khavrali ('we speak') and khavralo ('he/she/it speaks'). Verbs ending in vowels behave differently; lathta ('to speak') becomes lathtali ('we speak'), but stays lathta for 'he/she/it speaks' because *lathto would violate the Max-Root constraint.

...I might have got a bit carried away here. Hope you don't mind!

[outofangband]

Part two on the Union of Maedhros please :)

Gladly! this will require a part three to be honest

Here I focused more in depth on Maedhros, Fingon, Bor and Ulfang. I'll do the participants from Doriath and Nargathrond as well as Húrin's people and the dwarves.

Here was part one!

I am also going to include a part about Ulfang's people as a part one of posts requested by an incredibly patient anon a long time ago. Let me know if you see this, Ulfang anon and then tell me what else I can cover for you!

As I said, part two will go into more background politics that each ally brings to the table, for better or for worse

As always let me know if there’s something specific you’d like me to address

Fingon: at the time of the Union of Maedhros, Fingon is the high king following the death of his father. Officially he’s the high king of the Noldor but the political and geographic boundaries are unclear. He holds only symbolic power in Gondolin for example and much of the Noldor of Nargothrond do not follow him. His kingship is dubious among even those he does not rule over. I do not think Fingon had the time or resources to do much in the way of diplomacy during his kingship. He maintained the alliances that he had but wasn't able to do much in the way of rekindling fallen alliances, forging new ones, or restoring connection and communication where there had been enmity.

Maedhros is the Lord of Himring and an esteemed commander on the frontline of Eastern Beleriand’s defense against Morgoth

The actions of Celegorm and Curufin certainly complicate things. Maedhros was still seen by many as the de facto leader of the Noldorin host that came over with Fëanor. This is both for better and worse. For better, he has some control over the Noldor in East Beleriand and can influence them, at least the ones who didn’t fully turn against him when he abdicated the throne or because of a mistrust of Angband survivors (while others of Fëanor’s original group are so loyal and so mistrusting of Fingolfin that, even hating Maedhros for the abdication, they still consider him their lord over any of Fingolfin’s line)

Anyways while few people blame him for what Celegorm and Curufin did, he’s still affected by it as those who are angriest with C & C now want even less to do with the Fëanorians and their allies

Then of course there's the mistrust some have for him for his being an ex prisoner. I have so many posts about that so I won't go into it too much here but always feel free to ask about it :)

Bor and his people have settled in Northeastern Beleriand around the spring where the river Celon is sourced, slightly south of Himring. They are largely removed from both other political conflicts between the elves and humans of Beleriand and have also been separated from others of their people in the East.

The people of Ulfang settle in Thargelion. When I say people of Ulfang I include him and his family as well as followers and those who share in a specific and distinct culture similar to how I say people of Hador to mean not just those who are blood related to Hador. The group that comes here is a small one a few hundred people though for the fifth battle they intend to bring a larger host

They were originally river people, relying on both the fertile soils and the bounty of the waters themselves. In this way their culture had much in common with some groups of Nandor and Avarin both in Beleriand and East. One of their most important water sources became contaminated and a number of their host fell ill or died. Many suspected Morgoth in this destruction and it was then some of their people moved West.

Settling on the banks of Gelion, part of their original ways of life can be restored.

Both of these hosts lend knowledge and aid in non military operations as well and agricultural trade benefits them and the elves equally. The people of Bor and Ulfang are able to offer information about what Morgoth has done East of the Ered Luin and among the Edain which is vital as their other human allies only have the stories of their ancestors’ interactions with Melkor rather than their own experience

The rest is under a cut just for length and rambling about meta stuff

Note: the writing of the Easterlings is obviously problematic. I go with the idea that most of the people of the East (that is, Edain who came West of the Ered Luin significantly later than the peoples of Marach, Bëor and the Haladin) as well as those who stayed East, were not overall evil or working for Morgoth. After all, they canonically suffered at his hand too

Out of those who were there were three categories; those who had been coerced or threatened which is probably the biggest category those who worked with men of the original houses who had gone over to the enemy first and a handful who just wanted power Note that none of these are unique to the Eastern people and some of the original groups of the Edain also fell to the Enemy (including in canon) for all three of these reasons

For The invasion of Dor-Lómin for example I use a combination of the canon story and the book of lost tales version where many of the key figures among the traitors were originally from Hithlum themselves (though in my imaginings, some had left years or even decades prior to the events of the Narn(Brodda for example)

Most of Ulfang’s people likely did not wish to follow Morgoth. They had suffered significant losses back home and had little interest in continuing the war but saw it necessary for their own survival. The allyship with Caranthir was not a hostile one but it was one out of necessity. 

I think using a combination like this both takes away from the idea that the people of the east are uniquely corruptible or evil which is obviously extremely racist and also takes away intrigue to the plot

[novemberthecatadmirer]

Today I realized of course Ulfang and his children could have betrayed willingly

And it makes sense in canon!

But the other possibility is

What if Morgoth took hostages…

What if Morgoth found out they allied with Maedhros and then murdered Ulfang (he was dead before Unnumbered Tears)

So there could be two reactions:

Fuck Morgoth we’ll either destroy Morgoth or die trying it’s for our freedom and honor

It’s not possible to destroy the enemy he is too powerful and he has hostages and we do not want our children die so better find a way to cooperate and get his favor and have our share of land and have our family back

Idk, I think it depends on whether it was Sauron managing the matter or Morgoth managing the matter

I think Sauron was master deceiver but would make sure at least the leader cooperated sort of willingly (achieve his goals through sticks and carrots

While Morgoth could really prefer to just be sadistic and very efficiently crush people’s hope and rule through unimaginable terror

[dfwbwfbbwfbwf]

The real reason he sided with Moringoþo.

Friendly reminder that Ulfang’s name means ‘terrible beard’, but it means that in sindarin, thus the elves first saw him and thought ‘that facial hair is awful’

[nelyos-right-hand]

Like, when do you think Sauron found out this elf that died in his dungeons was Finrod? None of Finrod's company ever gave up his identity, so he definitely had no idea at first. After Beren and Luthien succeded, his death would become common knowledge among the elves since there's no way Beren would keep his glorious sacrifice secret, but I'm not sure if these news ever reached Angband, I mean, it's not like Morgoth could sent his orcs to disguise themselves as elves and spy on them, so they probably didn't know a lot of what was talked about in elves cities, especially since it kind of wasn't important for the war anyway.

So imagen how hilarious it would be if Sauron never hears of this through the entire first age and then one day in Eregion Tyelpe is being all sad, so Annatar acts all sympathic and concerned which he only does because he needs Celebrimbor to trust him, of course he doesn't care how he feels and he especially isn't concerned and Celebrimbor is just like "uncle Finrod died today" and Annatar's like "yeah, that makes sense, by the way how did he die I think I never heard the specifics" and Celebrimbor just says "he got killed by Sauron after sacrificing himself for Beren, how did you never hear about this" and Annatar's just like "he WHAT!?"

[lamemaster]

Men Reacting to Meeting Elves First Time

AN: Inspired by this post- by @actual-bill-potts. Idk I just felt the urge to bring this to the world. No elves were harmed in writing this.

Summary: A series of interviews brought to you by yours truly :)

Ulfang: (stares directly into camera with deadpan expression) the first time I saw Maedhros, I held his arm, his only arm (chuckles) to help him cross the road.

(Camera zooms in)

Ulfang: (shuffling in his seat) I thought he was blind. I though he was poor blind elf with no pupils. I even told the kids to be kinder to him...

Interviewer: Andreth please put down the book for now.

Andreth: (annoyed Edain noises) Ah yes the shadow in the East-

Interviewer: Nope not this again (Athrabeth flashbacks). We're talking about your first meeting with Aegnor

Andreth: He was so still I walked past him confusing him for a lamp. (Love crazed smile on her face) Gangly limbs and wild gleaming hair and very eerily still. And then I jumped ten foot into the sky when he suddenly called for me.

Andreth: Flame and moth, (dreamy sigh) thats what they call us.

Beor: We really could not see anything but a blob of light and follow the music that filled the air. I mean what else would anyone assume. Only gods hold such prowess.

Interview: (muttering under breath) Well Celebrimbor and Ar-Pharzon would disagree...

Beor: What (confused dad smile)?? So I approached Nom, whose form stood shrouded by glowing hair that seem to carry the notes of his music.

Beor: At that moment I knew I fell in love, he would be my people's salvation.

Turin: The first time my mother took me to Thingol I scream cried for an hour (Embarrassed head shake).

Interviewer: You lived after that??

Turin: I did because Thingol thought my reaction after seeing a semi-transparent Melian was better...I thought she was the ghost of the crazy lady who lived next door...can you image the childhood trauma of all that in one day...(continues shaking head vigorously. I was scarred. That damned Saeros never let me live it down...

Beren: (Cuddling into Luthien) Society says twisted taste, I say man of culture.

Luthien: They won't dare love (percariously taps her claws on the interviewer's table).

static noises

Aragorn: (barging into Boromir's interview) Why was I not invited?

Interviewer: part elven and the Dunedain don't count...too desensitized.

(Bickering continues)

Interviewer: What was it like meeting the king of woodland realm?

Bard: I was half delirious and running on adrenaline I think I saw four of him and rolled with it. Altough Tilda and Sigrid did complain about unfair hair privillages.

Interviewer: I see (agressively scribbles crying emojis)

[albuum]

1. Маглор над трупами предателей.

Maglor over the corpses of traitors.

“but the sons of Ulfang went over suddenly to Morgoth and drove in upon the rear of the sons of Fëanor, and in the confusion that they wrought they came near to the standard of Maedhros. They reaped not the reward that Morgoth promised them, for Maglor slew Uldor the accursed, the leader in treason, and the sons of Bór slew Ulfast and Ulwarth ere they themselves were slain”. Tolkien "Silmarillion".

“сыновья же Ульфанга, перейдя внезапно на сторону Моргота, напали сзади на сыновей Феанора, и в замешательстве, ими же созданном, пробились они к самому стягу Маэдроса. Но не получили они награды, обещанной Морготом, ибо Маглор убил Ульдора Проклятого, а сыновья Бора убили Ульфаста и Ульварта, прежде чем погибли сами”. Толкиен “Сильмариллион”.

2. Собственно предатели: сыновья Ульфанга. Отдельного поста другим днем они не заслуживают )

- Пойми, они же прокляты. Прокляты богами. А Моргот сам один из богов. Мы послужим богам, если предадим их.

2. - they don't deserve a separate post - The traitors themselves: the sons of Ulfang.

- Understand, they are cursed. Cursed by the gods. And Morgoth is one of the gods. We will serve the gods if we betray them.

[dfwbwfbbwfbwf]

Whenever I hear the argument "But Dior/Elwing lost so much for the Silmaril", I want to smash my face into a wall.

Oh, no, did Dior and Elwing face consequences from making bad choices? Oh no, oh dear. (I don't think the mass murders were right, mind you, but it's like complaining about a bear biting your hand when you poke it.)

Shape shifting wannabe Thaurons!!!!!

I'm still sad because we're never told what happened to Bór's people. :(

Silm reread 18: Tears Unnumbered ye shall shed

So, we got here. But first, B&L get an epilogue.

First, a tidbit about reembodiment: B&L take their physical forms again in Doriath. I guess they go from Mandos to there in spirit. (It's all "allegedly", anyway). Everyone is happy and afraid when seing them (very reasonable reaction I think) and Luthien heals Thingol from (depression, more or less).

Melian looks in Luhien's eyes and is sad. She "realized they will be apart till the end of the world and after" (huh?) and again, we have Pengolodh's favorite stylistic tool: "nobody ever suffered more from any loss than Melian suffered then".

Oh, I found the quote in original: “But Melian looked in her eyes and read the doom that was written there, and turned away; for she knew that a parting beyond the end of the world had come between them, and no grief of loss has been heavier than the grief of Melian the Maia in that hour."

B&L go to Ossiriand, it vaguelly feels like they don't neet to eat anymore? But unclear.

Anyway, back to the proper plot Feanorians. Maedhros gained hope, because he saw Morgoth is not untouchable. He starts creating the Union, but the wording about him doing it … even without knowing the story, if I read it carefully, I would probably be worried about how it will go.

And we have a clear reminder of the Oath and all that. Orodreth doesn't trust the Feanorians because C&C (makes sense I guess) (Finrod would probably join the Union but anyway). Gwindor joins Maedhros, going against his king's orders… we know how this will end for Gwindor.

doriath. Mae&co had sent brash letters to thingol along the lines of "you will be our enemy if you don't give the Silmaril back" and Melian advised Thingol to give it to them! But he is angry at their tone and at C&C, and also B&L have suffered so much for this jewel…

Sidenote: If your main claim to a piece of treasure is "but I/someone have sufferred so much", keeping it is probably going to end badly.

Also thingol wants to keep the Silmaril, because it is this jewel's power…. wait what? "And every day that he looked upon the Silmaril the more he desired to keep it for ever; for such was its power." [original] WHAT.

Ok, that is new. So, the Silmaril is canonically addictive? Or is it only because it has been in Morgoth's crown?

So, anyway, Thingol sends Maedhros a dissing answer and Maedhros leaves him be, because the Union is more important. Yay, Maedhros, great job, you are doing well! (For now :((( )

Unfortunately C&C threathen Thingol with genocide, after they win the wart. Which they assume they will. So thingol fortifies and doesn't go to the war. (Mablung and Beleg go, but Thingol allows them reluctantely, so they end up better than Gwindor)

Bór! :) and Ulfang :(

Maedhros plays his hand a bit too early :(

Also, another mention of Morgoth's spies (plural) and traitors. So, I guess the fallen Men, enslaved Elves and shapeshifting wannabe-Saurons sabotage the Union as much as they can.

Battle, Fingon doubtful, problems, suddenly: Turgon! First good surprise of this battle (it will be a whiplash…)

The Noldor want to charge too quickly, but Hurin stops them, because he is wise.

Morgoth wants to kill Fingon especially. Why? Probably to break Maedhros. (Also, revenge for the rescue, maybe.)

Gwindor gets unlucky chance (that's what happens when you go to war against your king's orders, I suppose)

The Noldor get really motivated and almost win. Morgoth is trembling of fear XD as they bang at his door. This is pretty cool of them. But then they all die. :(

Another turn: the Noldor might have won, but Ulfang. :( [Maglor kills him and it's probably the only named character that we are told is killed by Maglor, which is interesting]

Also, Glaurung is there.

Fingon dies. Also, his banner is silver and pale blue, which I did not remember.

Hurin, Turgon, foreshadowing for Earendil. Maeglin hears it all, but does not comment, and he remembers it and I have no idea why the book tells us that, this line feels so odd. "Maeglin, Turgon's sister-son, who stood by, heard these words, and did not forget them; but he said nothing" It's apparently odd to more people because there's a reddit thread about it. huh, ok, makes sense.

So, Hurin is brave and great and I will need to make a post about how the story is an ecosystem and the benefit of one character's heroics sometimes lands to another character's lap and it's painful but also quite real. So. Hurin. But we'll get back to him later.

Morgoth is happy, because divides and betrayal and stuff like that. :/

Also this (Ulfang) is why the Elves don't like Men anymore (except the Edain).

Cirdan is besieged, allo we learn that there are Orcs who can use explosives, and orkish engineers and what not. Interesting. they destroy the ports, Cirdan&co escape to the sea and to Balar.

Turgon again sends ships to Valinor, again it doesn't work (again I suppose he didn't ask Ulmo about his opinion or ignored it), and we are told who kills those sailors: not the Valar. "Only one, Voronwe, was saved by Ulmo from Osse's wrath". So yea, it's the "not rebel, but not not-rebel" sea guy. Don't blame the Valar for this.

Turgon is the rightful king of the Noldor (says the book), Morgoth hates him, because Fingolfin, and because he's a friend of Ulmo, and because Turgon's vibe scares him. We have a wonderful line about how even back in Valinor Morgoth was anxious every time he saw Turgon and tbh this is criminally underexplored in fics (this whole period is) and must have been quite hilarious.

Hurin disses Morgoth, Morgoth curses him and his wife and kids, takes him high up, and curses him again for a good measure.

Results of that: in the next chapter.

[sesamenom]

Flavors of numenoreans (minus the druedain because i still haven't figured out how i want to draw them)

[superloves4]

"You are bleeding, when were you planning on doing something about it?!"

"I don't know, oh lord of Dor Caranthir, when I was in private perhaps? It was a careless mistake, it's shameful"

"You humans are so precious of the most trifling things, you fester so rapidly as well! You are a soldier and you were hurt, now sit down so I may stitch the wound"

"...is this not the work of the women?"

"Unless you personally wish for one of the women to attend you, I am the most skilled in needles here"

Just me having feelings over Haleth taking on the roles of soldier and chief while Caranthir acts as defender and embroiderer