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apoloadonisandnarcissus · 1 month ago

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"The Demon" by Mikhail Lermontov, and parallels with Sauron x Galadriel

This idea was pitched to me by @leto97, and now I can't get it out of my head. Because the parallels are, indeed, mindblowing. And to a degree that might suggest the show writers actually took inspiration from this to write Galadriel and Sauron’s story in “Rings of Power”. Can this poem offer some predictions for Season 3, or Season 4?

This poem, "The Demon", is by a Russian poet and is considered a masterpiece of European Romantic poetry, tells of a Demon who falls in love with — and attempts to seduce — a Georgian princess, Tamara. Can he be redeemed by love? Will Heaven even allow it?

Full text here, or here.

1. The Repentant Demon

The somber Demon [Sauron], banished from the heights, Soared aimlessly above the sinful earth, And memories of better days gone by Kept crowding countlessly before his eyes — Those days when he, secure in light’s abode, Shone radiant, a cherub free from stain; When incandescent comets, shooting past, Would pause and lovingly reciprocate His hailing smile of fond benevolence; Those days when, through the timeless mists of space, Desiring knowledge, he would keenly track Nomadic caravans of shining stars Strewn out by God across the dark expanse; Those days when he believed — when he still loved! Divine Creation’s fortunate first-born! [Mairon, the Maia of Aulë] He knew no spiteful enmity, no doubt, Nor was his mind yet menaced by the thought Of barren ages in an endless train… So much, so much was his, that all of it He hadn’t strength enough to recollect!

Long since expelled from Heaven, he now roamed The desert of this world, without repose; One age after another passed for him Just as the minutes pass for humankind: In an unending and unchanging stream. And in dominion o’er this paltry earth, He sowed great evil — but without delight. [corrupted by Melkor/Morgoth] For nowhere did this artistry of his Meet with resistance in the hearts of men — And he grew tired of evil’s tedium.

2. First Meeting with the Princess

A great and lofty house, a sprawling court, [the raft] Did grizzled old Gudal decree be built. Much toil and many tears did that house cost [shipwreck] The long-enduring slaves who raised its walls. From dawn, its shadow creeps across the slopes Of mountains ’round the rock whereon it looms; And in that rock a staircase has been hewn, Descending from a turret to the stream; And down those stairs — a glimmer, now and then — A figure hurries, in a cloak of white: It is the princess — young Tamara [Galadriel] — who Descends to the Aragvi with her pail. [ship to Valinor]

Indeed: the Demon saw her. In a flash Some agitation inexplicable Arose within him, not to be denied; The silent desolation of his soul Was filled now by a glad, salvific sound — And once again he knew the sanctity Of love, of all that’s good and beautiful! Long, long did he now linger to admireThe precious spectacle — and long-dead dreamsOf his past glory, like an endless chain.Of star strung after star strung after starProcessed before his eyes as he looked on. And, shackled by some great but unseen force, He grew acquainted with a newfound pain: For sentiment began to speak within Him — in his long-abandoned native tongue. Were all these signs but preludes of rebirth? [redemption] His menaced heart sought refuge in his mind, And scoured it for shrewd and sneering words — But no! Forgetting was forbidden him By God. Indeed, he wished not to forget!

Down at the river raging far below — Here every step was fraught with threat of death! Great cliffs loomed to the left — and, to the right, The fatal torrent roared, tempestuous. [tempest at sea] It had grown late. Upon the snowy peak The blush burned out. An evening mist arose... And so the caravan picked up its pace.

3. The Dead Groom [Husband]

But on this day a great feast is at hand; The zurna sounds as wine begins to flow. Soon old Gudal [Finarfin] will see his daughter wed; He bade the whole clan gather for the feast. There, on the roof, with carpets rich bespread, The young bride sits among her friends, and laughs; With carefree games and songs her wedding eve Goes by. And evening falls: from distant peaks The half-disc of the sun still spills its rays; The revelers, now clapping rhythmically, Burst out in song, and watch the lovely bride Take up her tambourine and start to dance. Behold, how with her hand so delicate She twirls the tambourine above her head — One moment fluttering just like a bird, The next she sinks, alights — and, looking round, Her moist eyes glimmer softly from beneath [...] This was the last time she would ever dance. She well imagined what the future held — Alas! — for Gudal’s heir and only child [Galadriel is Finarfin's only daughter, and only surviving child], For one as used to freedom as was she: The woeful station of a wife enslaved; A homeland, new and as of yet unknown, And equally unknown [Doriath, Middle-earth] — her husband’s kin [Celeborn, prince of Doriath] So, now and then, a surreptitious doubt Obscured the smiling features of her face; And yet her every movement, as she danced, Was so full of expression and of grace, Of effortless and sweet simplicitiy,

Galadriel: Celeborn was his name. We met in a glade of flowers. I was dancing and he saw me there. Theo: You were dancing? Galadriel: The war seemed so very far away then. When he went to it, I chided him. His armor didn't fit properly. I called him a silver clam. I never saw him again after that. Rings of Power, "The Eye", 1x07

4. Demon In Love

In drops of water glistening like pearls, Upon a body beautiful as hers! Nor has the hand of any mortal man Been blessed to dance across a lover’s brow And unbraid hair as sumptuous as this. No! Never, since the loss of paradise — [the light of the lost Two Trees of Valinor shines on Galadriel's hair] I swear it! — had a flower such as she Spread wide its petals ’neath the southern sun.

For lo, the Demon, clever in deceit, Did rile his fancy with a guileful dream, And in his mind, concealed by darkest night, His lips caressed the lips of his new bride.

“Cry not, dear child, cry not — you cry in vain! Your precious tears will not, like living dew, Fall vivifying on that voiceless corpse: Their water will but blur your brilliant gaze, Their fire will but burn your virgin cheeks! Your groom is far away; he will not see The grief you bear, nor will he know its worth; The fleshless gaze of his transfigured eyes Is now caressed by Heaven’s blessed light; His ears now hear the songs of Paradise… What are the trifling dreams of earthly life, The moans, the tears of some unhappy girl, To one who knows undying happiness? No, no, my dear! A mortal being’s death — My earthbound angel, please believe my words! — Could never, ever be deserving of A single moment of your precious grief! [Sauron sees Galadriel's grief, and asks for her forgiveness]

5. The Demon Reveals Itself

Tamara - Who are you? Oh, how dire the words you speak! Did heaven send you to me, or did hell? What do you want?… The Demon - How beautiful you are! Tamara - No, tell me who you are! Give answer, now..!

The Demon: I am the one whose voice you heard before Amidst the silence of the midnight hour — The one whose thoughts were whispered to your soul, And whose unending sadness you discerned. I am the one whose form you saw in dreams; I am the one whose very gaze kills hope; I am that wretched one whom no one loves; I am the scourge of all my earthbound slaves; I am the king of knowledge — freedom, too; The enemy of heaven, nature’s bane. And now, behold — I fall upon your feet, And bring to you — you, whom I so admire — A quiet prayer of neverending love, I bring to you the first pain I have felt, The first tears I have shed upon this earth. Oh! Hear me — only out of pity! — For You must know: you could, with but a tender word, Restore me unto heaven, unto good; And, in the sacred mantle of your love Once clothed, I would in love arise anew, A newborn angel, newly radiant. Oh! Only hear me out, I pray you, please! — I am your slave — And now declare my love! The moment when I first set eyes on you, I first began to secretly despise My immortality, my evil might; Despite myself, I first came to desire The incomplete and earthly joys of men; It pained me not to live the life you know — And how I dreaded life apart from you! Thus in my bloodless heart a sudden ray Of light has broken forth, to shine, to live — While all my sorrow, deep in that old wound, Keeps stirring, like a serpent long asleep. What is eternity, without you there? What good, the boundlessness of my domain? They’re nothing, save for empty, ringing words, A sprawling church — with no divinity! Tamara: Begone, O clever spirit! Leave me be, And speak no more! I cannot trust you, friend! O Lord, Creator, hear me!… What is this? I cannot pray!… My poor deluded mind Is by some deadly venom overcome! Your words would doom me to the fires of Hell, Your words are fire and poison, nothing more... [Sauron reveals himself to Galadriel]

6. The Demon Temptation (he asks the Princess to help him achieve redemption)

There is an ocean vast, ethereal, Where without rudders, without masts or sails, Drift effortlessly, through eternal mists, The graceful choirs of luminaries bright; Across the boundlessness of heaven’s fields Roam sinuous and sheep-like flocks of clouds Intangible, and leaving not a trace; The hour of parting, or reunion’s hour Means neither joy nor misery to them; For they no longing for the future know, Nor do they feel regret about the past. You too, my dear, need only think of them On days of harrowing adversity; Be too, like them, without a single care, Without concern for any earthly thing! [Sauron tempt Galadriel into joining him]

7. The Demon torments the Princess

As soon as night, its somber shroud outspread, Obscures the towering Caucasian peaks, And the entire world below, bewitched By some enchanted word, falls still, And nothing moves, save for some withered grass Stirred by the wind that steals along a cliff And soon inspires a bird that shelters there To spread its wings and flutter in the dark, [Galadriel is tormented by visions of Sauron, via Nenya]

For surely you have noticed: day by day I’m wilting, victim of some poison vile! A clever spirit surely torments me With some dark dream that I cannot resist; I’m lost, my end is near — take pity, please! [Tamara tells her kin she's being tormented by a "clever spirit" and needs to escape it = Galadriel tells the same to Elrond]

8. The Demon visits the Princess

While far below, beneath the vineyard vines, Insatiably imbibing heaven’s dew, A flower spreads its petals in the night — As soon, I tell you, as the golden moon Ascends the sky in silence o’er the peaks, To steal a loving glance at you, my dear... It’s then that I’ll come flying to your side, And linger with you till the morning star, And waft delightful dreams of purest gold Upon the silken lashes of your eyes...” [Sauron comes for Galadriel, at last, in Season 2]

And then the wondrous voice withdrew from her, And, word by word, its music died away; Now startled, she jumps up and looks around... A painful longing, inexpressible, Now seized her breast; and nothing, next to this, Was any sadness, fear, or ecstasy: Her every passion seethed within her heart; It was as if her soul had burst its chains, And flames were coursing through her every vein — [Sauron stabs Galadriel with Morgoth's crown]

And that same voice, so gloriously new, Seemed still to resonate from ear to ear. Near morning, at long last, a longed-for sleep Sank down and shut her weary, reddened eyes; But sleep too stirred her disconcerted thoughts With some uncannily prophetic dream: A visitor had come from far away, And, radiant with rays of unseen suns,

He stood there, gently bowed above her bed; He stood there — and his loving gaze beheld Her with such sadness, with such tenderness — And with, it seemed, compassion most profound. This was no angel sent there from on high; No guardian ordained for her by God; No halo spun from iridescent rays Adorned the locks that ringed that handsome face. Nor yet was this some awful fiend of Hell, Enduring torment for his many sins — No, no! He looked like lucid evening — Not night, not day — not dark, not light!

8. The Princess choses "death" to resist the Demon

Give up your child, bereft of sanity, To the most holy convent’s certain care, Wherein our Lord and Savior all sustains; Before His Face I’ll pour my every tear. No smiles, no joys are left me in this world… Like relics shrouded in serenity, May I too find the shelter of a cell — As of a tomb — long, long before my time…” [Galadriel jumps to her death to escape Sauron]

9. The Princess is sent to a Sanctuary by her kin, to protect her from the Demon

So, to a monastery far away [future Rivendell]Her kinfolk [Elves] sorrowfully sent the girl,And there in modest clothes, from sackcloth sewn, She humbly wrapped her ever youthful breast.

9. In spite of her prayers, the Demon's temptation and her desire for him still endure on her heart

But still, beneath her nun’s attire — just as It had beneath a dress of patterned gold — That same illicit, sinful fantasy Kept beating in her heart, unfadingly. Before the altar, in the candlelight; Amidst her solemn, sacred songs of praise;

Amidst her prayers, the same familiar voice Would oft assail her ears with tempting words. Along the gloomy temple’s mighty vault, A shape she seemed to know would sometimes glide, Without a noise, with no trace left behind, Through clouds of incense rising weightlessly. He shone there, silent, like a star, and lured Her, called to her... Where would he have her go?

What happens next in the poem? Hypothetical predictions for Season 3?

1. The Demon lingers around the sanctuary

In the poem, the Demon goes to the monastery to claim the princess. At first, he hesitates and does not dare to enter, and “violate their blessed sanctity”:

A shroud ethereal of evening mist In darkness clothes the sleeping Georgian hills. True to his custom, in the still of night, The Demon flew about the cloister walls. But for a long, long while he didn’t dare To violate their blessed sanctity. Indeed — if for a moment — he seemed poised To cast aside his merciless intent. There, lost in thought beside that lofty wall, He paced about — and where his footsteps fell, The leaves would tremble in the windless shade. Again he lifts his gaze: again he stares Into her window, where the lamp still shines: [the sun still shines?] Long has she waited, waited for someone! And then, amidst the all-embracing quiet, Some graceful fingers strum the chonguri, And suddenly a lovely song resounds; Its notes drift forth, and play without respite, As measuredly as tear falls after tear. So tender, so exquisite was the song That it might well have come here from on high, Composed in heaven for this sinful earth! How like an angel’s voice — an angel who Desired to see some long-lost friend below, And secretly descended from the clouds To sing to that dear friend of days gone by To lend some sweetness to their suffering... And thus love’s ache, love’s longing restlessness, First pierced the Demon’s heart — and, knowing now The fear that love entails, he wished to flee, To flee — and yet his wings refused to move! What miracle is this? A heavy tear Falls from his faded eyes — falls to the ground — And to this very day, outside that cell, Beneath that window, one can see a stone Burned straight through by a tear as hot as fire — By an infernal and inhuman tear!

2. The Demon's love for the Princess is too strong for him to stay away

Eventually, the Demon decides to enter the sanctuary, and confess his love for her:

He enters now — his heart prepared to love, His soul no longer shutting out the good, Believing that a long-awaited life — A new life — a new day — was now to dawn. The vague anxiety of boundless hope, The fear that lurks in mute uncertainty — These unfamiliar feelings filled his soul, These feelings known to all who have known love. Alas, they did but augur things to come!

3. The Demon fights a God's messenger to get to the Princess (and wins)

When the Demon enters the sanctuary, he discovers a "agent of God" is there, protecting the princess’s soul against him:

He enters, looks — and looming there, beholds God’s messenger, the guardian angel who Stood watch above that sinner beautiful, His brow bathed in a pure celestial light, His smile impassive, and his shining wings Protecting her from her soul’s enemy; And suddenly a ray of Heaven’s light Shone forth and smote the Demon’s unclean eyes; Where words of love might have caressed his ears, An onerous reproach now thundered forth: “O restless spirit, full of wickedness, Who called you here in midnight’s tranquil dark? There are none in this place who worship you; Nor has the breath of evil breeched these walls. Dare not transgress, dare not in sin draw near To one I hold in love and sanctity. I bid you speak: who summoned you?” To this, The evil spirit glowered in reply, His gaze now burning red with jealousy; And in his demon’s soul again was stirred That age-old poison — hatred of the good. “She’s mine!” he bellowed, with abysmal might. “Abandon her, for I have laid my claim — While you, her guardian, have come too late, And you are not to judge her, or judge me. Upon her heart, replete with sinful pride, I have already set my awful seal; There’s nothing sacred here for you to save; Here, I am master now; here I now love!” The Angel, overcome, with eyes downcast, Looked one last time upon the wretched girl, And slowly, beating high his shining wings, He rose, and plunged into a sea of light.

4. The Demon confesses his eternal love for the Princess

Coming out victorious of his fight against this “Angel of Light”, the Demon eventually gets to the princess, and confesses his eternal love for her:

Tamara - So why, why do you now profess your love? The Demon - Why do I love you, lovely girl? Alas, I do not know myself! I only know That, full of newfound life, from my vile brow I’ve finally removed my crown of thorns, And cast it — all that was — into the dust. My heaven and my hell are in your eyes; I love you with an otherworldly fire; I love you in a way you cannot love: With all the ecstasy, with all the force Of thoughts immortal, and immortal dreams. For since the world began, deep in my soul, Your captivating image was engraved; Long did that image drift, beyond my reach, Through the eternal ether’s wilderness; Long, long disquieting my every thought, The sweet name you now bear did sound to me; And in those days of bliss, in paradise, You were the only blessing that I lacked. Oh, if, poor girl, you could but understand What neverending anguish I have known! [...]

5. The Princess is conflicted: she loves the Demon but wants to be on God's side

The princess still resists the Demon, and accuses him for stealing her peace, and tormenting her, but she’s conflicted because she’s in love and wants the Demon in her heart:

Tamara - Hush, hush, someone might hear us! The Demon - We’re alone. Tamara - But God sees all! The Demon - He will not deign to look: He has eyes but for Heaven — not for earth! Tamara - And what of punishment? The fires of Hell? The Demon - What of them? You will share their flame with me! Tamara - Be who you may, my uninvited friend — You’ve robbed me of my peace forever... Yet — Poor sufferer! — I cannot help but hear Your tale of sorrow with a secret joy. But what awaits me if your feeling’s feigned? Or what if you, concealing some deceit... Have mercy, please! What love do I deserve? Of what good is my wretched soul to you? Could I mean any more to God above Than all the girls who did not draw your eye? Alas, they too are good, and beautiful, Their chaste sheets too, like those on this nun’s bed, Were never crumpled by a mortal hand... No! You must swear a sacred oath to me... You must tell me — for you can see my tears; You can discern this sinful woman’s dreams! How could you help but strike fear in my soul? But still — you understand, you know all things, And surely you will show me charity! So, swear to me... That, from this moment forth, You do renounce all things acquired in vice — Or can it really be that there remain No oaths or promises you will not break?

6. The Demons promises to abandon his evil pursuits, if he can have the Princess' soul, for them to be together

Then, the Demon makes the ultimate love confession, in which he swears to abandon all of his evil pursuits for her, and take her to heaven, where they can be together:

The Demon - I swear to you now — by creation’s dawn, I swear to you now — by its final day, I swear by evil’s base ignominy, And by the triumph of eternal truth, And by the bitter torment of defeat, And by the short-lived dream of victory; And by the hope of seeing you again, By separation menacing anew. I swear to you now by the spirit hosts, And by the fate of demons in my thrall, And by the swords of angels passionless — Those ever-watchful enemies of mine; I swear to you by Heaven and by Hell, By all that’s holy on this earth — by you: I swear to you now by your final glance, And by the first tear that you ever shed, And by the breath of your unspiteful lips, By every ringlet of your silken locks; I swear to you by bliss, by suffering — And more than all of this: I swear by love. I now renounce my lust for cold revenge; I now renounce my every prideful thought; From this day forth, false words of flattery I will not pour, like poison, in men’s ears; My inmost wish is to be reconciled With God. I want to love, I want to pray, I want now to believe — believe in good. With this repentful tear, I’ll wipe away — Upon a brow now worthy of your love — The ashen traces left by Heaven’s fire; And may this world, in placid ignorance, Live on, and prosper — I’ll not interfere! Believe me, lovely girl! I am the first To understand you, and to know your worth. In choosing you as my most sacred prize, I choose to lay my power at your feet. But for an instant of your gift of love, I offer you all of eternity. Have faith, Tamara, in my constancy, My greatness both in evil and in love — For I, the ether’s freedom-loving son, Will transport you to realms above the stars, And you will be the empress of the sky, My sole companion, and my only love; And there — without regret, without concern — You’ll soon regard this earth for what it is: A place where no true joy is to be found, Nor any beauty that is long of life; A place of naught but sin and sin’s reward; A place where only petty passion dwells, A place that’s home to no one capable Of hating — or of loving — without fear. Or do you truly not know what it is — The momentary love of humankind? The youthful agitation of the blood? But as the days race by, the blood grows cold! Do lovers long endure when forced apart? Who can resist the lure of novelty? Who can withstand the boredom, the fatigue Of indefatigable fantasy? No! Not for you, my love, are all these things! Nor yet has cruel Fate ordained for you To waste away in these repressive walls, A slave to others’ jealous crudity, Amidst the meager-spirited and cold, Amidst false friends and outright enemies, Amidst your anxious fears and fruitless hopes, Amidst your empty and oppressive toil! No! Woefully, behind these lofty walls, You’ll not live on, your passion’s flame snuffed out, Amidst orisons, equally removed From the divine and from humanity. No, no, my lovely creature: You were meant For an entirely different kind of life; A different sort of suffering awaits, As do the depths of other, unknown joys. Abandon all your previous desires, And leave this wretched world unto its fate — And in exchange, I’ll open up for you Proud knowledge’s unplumbable abyss; A host of spirits, bound to me in thrall, I’ll cast before your feet, to serve your whim; To you, my beautiful, my love, I’ll give Maidservants magical and light as air; And for your head, from off an eastern star I’ll wrest a brilliant crown of purest gold; I’ll rob some flowers of their midnight dew, And set them in that crown like precious pearls; I’ll steal some crimson from the setting sun, And wrap it tenderly about your waist; I’ll saturate the very air you breathe With breath of flowers fragrant and pristine; And every minute I’ll caress your ears With wondrous notes of otherworldly strings; I’ll raise exquisite mansions; you will dwell In halls from turquoise and from amber wrought; I’ll swim down to the bottom of the sea, I’ll soar beyond the heavens’ highest clouds; I’ll give you all, all that the earth can give — Just love me!..

7. The Demon kisses the Princess, and takes her soul

The Demon kisses the princess and she dies.

And with that, he dared to touch His lips, aflame with an infernal fire, To hers, which trembled as they met his kiss. Her pious supplications had been met By words filled with the power to seduce; A mighty gaze now looked into her eyes, And scorched her. In the darkness of the night, He shone forth, looming high above her now, A deadly blade — yet irresistible. Alas! The evil spirit did prevail! The deadly venom of the Demon’s kiss In but an instant pierced her fragile breast. A terrible and torment-laded cry Now rent the silence of that tranquil night. That cry held everything: both love and pain, Both accusation and one final plea, A last farewell, pronounced in hopelessness — A farewell to her still-young earthly life

8. The God's messenger returns to fight the Demon for the Princess' soul.

The Demon has the princess's soul, now. But the "Angel of Light" returns to fight him. And the princess, seeing the Demon's true form, is now terrified of him, and sides with her guardian angel, instead.

Amidst a blue, ethereal expanse A holy angel sent by God above Flew onward, borne aloft by wings of gold, And bearing, in his merciful embrace, A sinful soul far from the world below. And with his mild and blessed words of hope He drove away the soul’s remaining doubts, And with his tears of love he washed from it All trace of misdeed, and of suffering. And from afar, the songs of paradise Already reached their ears — when suddenly, Abruptly cutting off the path ahead, A hellish spirit rose from the abyss, As savage as a roaring whirlwind’s rage, Yet shining like a bolt of lightning bright — And proudly, in his mad audacity, He bellowed at the angel: “She is mine!” And, holding back its terror with a prayer, Tamara’s sinful but repentant soul Pressed close against its guardian angel’s chest — For its eternal future was at stake. Again the Demon loomed before her — but, Dear God, could she have recognized him now? For how malicious had his eyes become! And how corrupted by the deathly blight Of enmity that never, ever ends! And how sepulchral was the blast of cold That issued from that dead, unmoving face! “Begone, O somber spirit of despair!” God’s mighty angel thundered in response. “You were allowed to triumph for a time, But now the time has come for God to judge, And in His judgment He is merciful; The days of tribulation now are past; As from her earthly robe of sinful flesh, She has at last been freed from evil’s chains. Know this: long have we here awaited her! For hers was one of those souls so designed To live a life that lasts but for a flash, A life of torment unendurable, A life of unattainable delight: From finest ether the Creator wove The living fabric of these precious souls; They were not fashioned for the world below, For was the world below devised for them! This weary soul has paid a cruel price For all the doubts it harbored while on earth... Above all, though, it suffered, and it loved — And Heaven’s gates stand open now — for love!” And with forbidding eyes the angel looked Once more upon the Demon come to tempt, And, with a joyous wingbeat rising high, He plunged into the radiance of heaven. The vanquished Demon could do naught but curse His dreams long-cherished — his demented dreams! For once again he found himself alone — Alone, alone in all the universe — Without a hope — without a hope of love!

Could this, actually, play out in "Rings of Power"?

The answer is yes.

Sauron (in spiritual form or through visions, illusions or dreams) lingers around Rivendell (or Lindon), looming over Galadriel, calling for her (or something of that sort);

The Elves would somehow realize this; and Gandalf comes into the picture to help (he’s a “Angel of Light” and a “agent of God”, literally, as Maia of Manwë);

Eventually, Sauron arrives, in the flesh, to take the Three Elven rings of power and claim Galadriel as his;

He fights with Gandalf (the guardian over Galadriel), and wins;

He gets to Galadriel: he wants to take her to the Unseen world, where they can be together;

Galadriel succumbs to Sauron/darkness, at last, and he takes her spirit to the Unseen world, where she sees his true form (like Mirdania in 2x04), for the first time, and realises just how evil and corrupted he truly is (no chance of redemption);

Gandalf arrives to fight Sauron in the Unseen world (because he's also from that realm, and has the power to do this), and wins.

Galadriel realises her mistake, and terrified of Sauron's true form, sides with Gandalf/The Light.

By having Galadriel taken away from him, Sauron sinks into the depths of despair and suffering, and fully embraces pure evil as the new “Dark Lord” (forges the One ring?), and in Season 4, we would see him doing the most diabolical stuff yet, in Númenor (human sacrifices in worship of Morgoth to piss off the Valar).

#saurondriel #sauron x galadriel #galadriel x sauron #saurondriel speculation #saurondriel theory #saurondriel season 3 #haladriel

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felagund-the-valiant · 4 months ago

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Bring Back What Once Was Mine - Finrod x gn!reader

After the War of the Ring, you return home to Valinor, hoping to finally be reunited with your husband.

Words: 1k Tags: mix of fluff and angst, mention of canon character death, bilbo makes a cameo because why not

A/N: “being reunited after a long time“ is one of my favourite tropes, it‘s the perfect mix of angst and fluff. also i feel like finrod‘s apparent psychic abilities get overlooked way too often in fics, so i had to include them.

You never would have thought you’d see the white shores of Valinor again, after thousands of years. Waves of nostalgia washed over you as the grey ship approached the harbour. Memories of more innocent times passed through your mind. Of being young and in love with Findaráto, of a blissful marriage before the darkening. You wondered if he had decided to return to Arda, if there was a chance you’d finally see him again.

You still vividly remembered the day Orodreth had sought you out to tell you your husband wasn‘t returning from his mission. Up until that moment, you had been praying to the Valar that Findaráto’s vision had deceived him – that he simply hadn‘t interpreted it correctly. You were still amazed that you hadn‘t faded away right then and there, your fëa seemingly torn apart.

“What a magnificent sight!” You were drawn from your sombre thoughts by the elderly hobbit next to you, whose eyes were full off fascination. You couldn’t conceive what it was like to see the Blessed Realm for the first time, but you imagined it must have been overwhelming. “Your stories haven’t done it justice, (Y/N). I never could have imagined such beauty.” You simply smiled politely and nodded. Normally you delighted in engaging Bilbo’s worldly curiosity (only Eru knew just how many stories you had told him about Findaráto specifically), but the inner tension was robbing you of the energy to engage in conversation. What if he hadn’t returned? What if he would never want to return? Shaking off the thought, you told yourself to hold off on the negativity.

Stepping off the ship beside Artanis felt almost surreal. You had been gone for thousands of years and now it felt like you had only left yesterday. A large crowd of elves was gathered at the docks, each of them hoping to be reunited with their friends or loved ones, just like most passengers on your ship. For a moment you thought you had spotted Findaráto, but on second glance it turned out to be your father-in-law and you were once again stunned at how much his eldest son took after him. Your mother-in-law stood beside her husband, hope shining in her eyes as she scanned the descending passengers.

Artanis called out to her parents in delight and the three of them came together in a tight hug. You lingered behind a little, not wanting to intrude on the moment. It didn‘t take long for Arafinwë and Eärwen to take note of your presence, however, and you were taken into their arms as well. Has he returned? you wanted to ask but Arafinwë seemed to have already read your mind. “Yes,“ he simply said, “but he does not dwell with us, as much as it pains us. He seeks solace and only rarely comes to see us.“ Your heart sank. You knew how much Findaráto adored his family and to avoid them like this was entirely out of character. The horrors of his death must have still haunted him too much. Not that you could blame him – your own dreams had been haunted for weeks by what had been described to you of his death.

You strolled along the beach, following the directions Findaráto’s parents had given you. After a while, a house appeared in the distance – sitting lonely and far away from other dwellings. A lump formed in your throat. What would you even say to him? What would his condition be after what his father had told you? The questions echoed in your mind until you finally reached the house. It was simple enough, clearly not meant for more than two people.

A familiar, beloved voice reached your keen ears and at last you saw him. Harp on his lap, feet dangling across the water, Findaráto sat on the pier singing a song you knew all too well – he had written it for you in the beginning of your courtship. “Findaráto!” You exclaimed, adrenaline filling your entire body. He turned around at the call of his name and when he spotted you, he hastily sat aside his harp and started rushing to meet you half-way. The two of you collided so hard it almost sent you toppling onto the ground. You couldn’t tell who cried harder.

Even after thousands of years, his smell had remained the same – a mix of lavender and berries, with a hint of sea salt. You breathed him in deeply, feeling the tension leave your body and being replaced by a sensation you could only describe as coming home. Hopefully he felt the same. Entangling yourself a little from his embrace, you finally gazed upon his face. Not a thing had changed, even if this was not his original body – that one would forever rest in the depths of drowned Beleriand. One of your hands came up to caress his cheek and he leaned into the touch immediately. “I have missed you so much,” you whispered. It was an immense understatement, there were no words that could adequately describe the feeling of abruptly having half of your fëa ripped from you. “Me, too,” he whispered back and bent down to nuzzle your nose and press a tender kiss to your lips, sighing as he did so.

“I knew you‘d come back to me, I just didn‘t know when,“ Findaráto said, a shadow briefly passing over his face. He didn‘t need to elaborate, you knew he was talking about him having had yet another vision. Your heart ached at the thought of how exhausting it must have been for him these past millennia, living in constant uncertainty as to when he would finally be reunited with his beloved, as his visions had promised. Did these promises make him leave the halls early, foregoing valuable time of healing? You decided to push the oncoming guilt away for now. There was plenty of time for these conversations to be had later.

“Well, I‘m here now, and you best believe I‘m not going anywhere anytime soon.“ It wasn’t a mere promise. Nothing would ever divide the two of you again and no amount of sinister visions would be able to change that.

#tolkien #reader insert #silmarillion #finrod #finrod x reader #gn!reader

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meararochand · 1 month ago

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The Phantom of the Middle-earth

I don't know how many of you know, but Galadriel's brother Finrod and Sauron fought each other with songs of power (Finrod lost). So they competed by singing.

Tolkien liked to use his poems and songs in his works...

"He chanted a song of wizardry, Of piercing, opening, of treachery, Revealing, uncovering, betraying. Then sudden Felagund there swaying sang in answer a song of staying, Resisting, battling against power, Of secrets kept, strength like a tower, And trust unbroken, freedom, escape; Of changing and of shifting shape, Of snares eluded, broken traps, The prison opening, the chain that snaps, Backwards and forwards swayed their song. Reeling and foundering, as ever more strong The chanting swelled, Felagund fought, And all the magic and might he brought, Of Elvenesse into his words. Softly in the gloom they heard the birds Singing afar in Nargothrond, The sighing of the sea beyond, Beyond the western world, on sand, On sand of pearls in Elvenland. Then the gloom gathered; darkness growing In Valinor, the red blood flowing Beside the sea, where the Noldor slew The Foamriders, and stealing drew Their white ships with their white sails From lamplit havens. The wind wails, The wolf howls. The ravens flee. The ice mutters in the mouths of the sea. The captives sad in Angband mourn, Thunder rumbles, the fires burn- And Finrod fell before the throne."

I wondered what would happen if Marion (Sauron) also tried to seduce Galadriel in song, similar to the Phantom in Phantom of the Opera.

youtube

I would really like that.

#sauron #galadriel #the rings of power #galadriel x sauron #sauron x galadriel #saurondriel #haladriel #lotr on prime #Youtube

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woe-begotten-spirit · 8 months ago

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So I know not a lot of people in the world have a strong opinion on who is best to ship Middle Earth’s Sun with but I am obsessed with The Lost Tales era Eonwë/Arien (or Fionwë/Urwendi) and the parallels with Elwing and Eärendil.

The Arien/Tilion thing of Moon in love with the Sun of course makes sense in a sort of collective unconscious mythology type way but something about a romance between Bird and Celestial Body is just 🔥

In both versions our bird flies through the air seeking lover lost at sea

Manwë sent Fionwë his son, swiftest of all to move about the airs, and bade him say to Urwendi that the bark of the Sun come back awhile to Valinor, for the Gods have counsels for her ear; and Fionwë fled most readily, for he had conceived a great love for that bright maiden long ago, and her loveliness now, when bathed in fire she sate as the radiant mistress of the Sun, set him aflame with the eagerness of the Gods. (LT I, VIII)

Indeed for a while mishap fell even upon bright Urwendi, that she wandered the dark grots and endless passages of Ulmo’s realm until Fionwë found her and brought her back to Valinor (LT I, IX)

For Ulmo bore up Elwing out of the waves, and he gave her the likeness of a great white bird, and upon her breast there shone as a star the Silmaril, as she flew over the water to seek Eärendil her beloved. (Silm, ch 24)

who sails in a hallowed ship through the Door of the Night.

Ulmo draws the galleon of the Sun before the Door of Night. Then speaks Urwendi the mystic word, and they open outward before her, and a gust of darkness sweeps in but perishes before her blazing light; and the galleon of the Sun goes out into the limitless dark, and coming behind the world finds the East again. (LT I, IX)

But they took Vingilot, and hallowed it, and bore it away through Valinor to the uttermost rim of the world; and there it passed through the Door of Night and was lifted up even into the oceans of heaven. (Silm, ch 24)

And then our birds Eonwë and Elwing end up being the ones to deliver the Silmarils to their fated places (from Elwing to Eärendil to Air, from Eonwë to Maedhros and Maglor to Fire and Water)

And thus it came to pass that the Silmarils found their long homes: one in the airs of heaven, and one in the fires of the heart of the world, and one in the deep waters. (Silm, ch 24)

There are several more similarities like the early idea that both Eärendil and Arien encountered mermaids while they were at sea (LT I, commentary on The Tale of Qorinómi and LT II, V) and Tilion originally chasing Eärendil instead of Arien (LT II, V)

And also I just think Eonwë should be allowed to do the apocalypse as revenge for his girlfriend because come on:

For ’tis said that ere the Great End come Melko shall in some wise contrive a quarrel between Moon and Sun, and Ilinsor shall seek to follow Urwendi through the Gates, and when they are gone the Gates of both East and West will be destroyed, and Urwendi and Ilinsor shall be lost. So shall it be that Fionwë Úrion, son of Manwë, of love for Urwendi shall in the end be Melko’s bane, and shall destroy the world to destroy his foe, and so shall all things then be rolled away.’ (LT I, IX)

#silmarillion #tolkien #eonwe #arien #elwing #earendil #lotr #woe-begotten-spirit

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lassieposting · 6 months ago

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Lassie's Fic Prompts: Tolkien Edition

Usually I haunt mutuals or the prompt channels of Discord communities but the Tolkien ones are all massive and I have anxiety, so I'm gonna shove them in the tag instead! Fic concepts from your friendly local prompt goblin, because god knows my ass will never get around to writing them. This post will get updated as ideas occur to me. Tags are mostly to help express The Vibe™. Anyway feel free to come talk to me about this shit I have feelings.

Bagginshield

T+ || Fluffy || Post-Canon, Reunion Fic

When the ringbearers arrive in the Blessed Realm, as a reward for the great peril they have suffered on behalf of all of Middle Earth, they are granted a single boon by the Valar.

Bilbo Baggins knows that elves, dwarves and men go to different realms after death. But Mahal's halls are vast and grand, and he is only a very small Hobbit. Surely room can be found for a single burglar in the dwarven afterlife?

Barduil

G+ || Angsty || Post-Canon, Loss, Closure, Bonus Points For Bard's Memorial Surviving To Be Unearthed In The Modern Day

Before leaving Middle Earth, Thranduil pays a final visit to the memorial he had carved for Bard.

Saurondriel

T+ || || Debates & Bickering, Sauron Drawing Parallels Between His Life & 'Halbrand's', Sauron As A Calming Influence On Morgoth's Genocidal Tendencies, Galadriel's Black & White Thinking, Small Moments Of Goodness

Halbrand takes Galadriel out to eat with his first week's wages from the forge in Armenelos, but the puppetry performance going on in the plaza - in which she is the heroine and he one of the villains - proves a distraction from their definitely-not-a-date.

When Halbrand admits that he's never seen the Sauron/Morgoth duo portrayed as utterly evil before, coming as he does from a land of their allies, Galadriel asks him what kind of stories the Southlanders tell. Sensing an opportunity to humanise himself in her mind, Halbrand dredges up some painful memories to introduce her to Mairon, Melkor and the path to hell paved with twisted love and good intentions.

T+ || Comedy || 5+1 Fic, Sauron Doing His Best, He's Not Spectacular At Being A Human But He's Trying, Galadriel Is Suspicious But Doesn't Know Enough About Humans To Call Him Out, Entirely Normal Mannish Behaviour™, Galadriel Will See A Guy Leave Scorchmarks On The Bedsheets When He Comes & Be Like 'It's Fine They Probably All Do That'

Halbrand is quite possibly the most realistic fana Sauron has ever created. He's designed to be so believably human he'll fly completely under the radar. But ultimately, a disguise is only ever as good as the actor wearing it. Halbrand is a fire spirit piloting an exquisitely crafted meat suit, and Sauron's idea of Totally Normal Mannish Behaviour is sometimes...slightly off base.

Galadriel is beginning to suspect the truth: her new significant annoyance is many things, but human is not one of them. But that's a terrifying prospect. And - and she hasn't spent all that much time around the race of Men herself, really. She's used to other elves. So it's probably fine. It's totally fine. Men are just Like That, is all.

AKA, five times Galadriel notices Halbrand's weird-as-fuck Maia traits/behaviours, but deliberately excuses them as Just Human Stuff because she doesn't want to deal with who and what he really is.

And one time where she already knows who and what he is. Many years into their marriage, Galadriel is mostly accustomed to her king's more unusual quirks. But sometimes, Mairon can be so human it almost breaks her heart.

T+ || Future Fic || Redemption Arc, Sort Of, Ainur Family Drama, Where Is Celeborn? Who Knows, Sauron Slouching Less Into The Light Of Goodness & More Into The Mist Of Moral Ambiguity, For Galadriel™, Dagor Dagorath

At the close of the Third Age, the last of Arda's elves take ship for Valinor, leaving Middle Earth - and the disembodied spirit of its former Dark Lord - to the race of Men. For thousands upon thousands of years, the Undying Lands enjoy a hard-won peace.

But when Morgoth manages to escape the Void, that peace is shattered, and with Valinor itself under threat, Ossë is dispatched to the world left behind to find the one soul who knows the enemy as well as Morgoth knows himself. He tracks Sauron to the deep south, where he's managed to claw back a physical form and has been living out his powerless exile as Hal Brand, old-timey blacksmith to the local ranchers.

When Ossë appears on his doorstep with news of Morgoth's escape, offering clemency in exchange for information, Sauron suspects a trap, and turns the offer down, intending to go into hiding rather than face his old master's rage at what's become of his dark kingdom and faithful servants. To sweeten the pot, Ossë leverages Sauron's greatest regret: the knowledge that Galadriel is in Valinor, and the implication that she'd like to see her old enemy again. Unable to resist the opportunity to reconcile with her, Sauron agrees to finally go home and share what he knows of Morgoth's plans and likely next moves with the Valar.

But with age-old grudges and rivalries causing trouble in Valinor, and Morgoth determined to retrieve his wayward lieutenant at any cost, can Sauron really turn back from the darkness long enough to hand victory to the Valar in the Last Battle?

T+ || Hurt/Comfort || Trauma, Nightmares, Identity Reveal, Sauron Has Seen Some Shit, He Probably Has Impressive Telepathy Defenses Most Of The Time But Shh, He Loves Her & He Wants To Be The Person She Thinks He Is,

Fighting for his life on the road to Eregion, Halbrand slowly succumbs to a murky world of fever dreams and infection-addled hallucinations. Trying to ease his restless sleep, Galadriel reaches out to to touch his mind...and finds herself dragged into a disjointed maelstrom of her most hated enemy's worst moments and greatest fears: Morgoth's bitter rage, the judgment of the Valar, the agony of bleeding out in the snow at Adar's feet, the inevitable pain of her own rejection if ever he's discovered.

Too weak to repel her or even really realise what he's sharing, Sauron lets her in, taking comfort from her presence. Presented with an opportunity she never thought she'd have - to look through the mind of her enemy unhindered - Galadriel stays her hand long enough to look for closure, for confirmation that he is the monster she's been hunting, that he's been manipulating her all along. Instead, she might just find something worth saving.

T+ || AU || Enemies To Lovers To Enemies To Friends To Lovers Again, Yelling At Sauron As Therapy, Halbrand!Mairon, Probably Because He Feels The Most Himself With Her Or Something, Aulë Knows Whats Up, He 100% Lets Slip On Purpose, Healing

After the destruction of the One Ring, what's left of Sauron's spirit is rounded up by the Valar and imprisoned in Valinor.

Galadriel does not find peace in the Undying Lands. After everything she has seen and done, she struggles to settle back into the realm of winterless spring. When a slip of the tongue from Aulë gives her the location of Sauron's prison, her restless nighttime wanderings begin to take her there to see him.

Sometimes, she is incandescent with rage and betrayal, and she vents her age-old anger on him without expecting any answers. Sometimes, she comes for information, and her questions are cold, cruel, demanding things flung through the bars. Sometimes, she is just sad and tired, and her questions are quiet things passed between them as they sit either side of the door. At first, there is no fight left in him: he takes what she throws at him in defeated silence. But the more she visits - to berate him, to needle him, to call him names, to ask him why, to reminisce - the more he starts to respond to her. And as her anger finally begins to die out, and their time together is increasingly spent remembering, and talking, and getting to know one another anew, the more the broken, amorphous creature in the cell begins to resemble the Man she once thought she knew.

M+ || Shameless Smut || Romance, Sauron's Complicated Relationship With Sexuality, Service Top Galadriel, Maybe Grayspec Maiar, The Mortifying Ordeal Of Emotional Intimacy, He Thinks She Wants To Subjugate Her Enemy, She Actually Wants To Love Her Idiot

Millennia ago, Mairon learned the value of sex as a bargaining chip, and he's been using it to get what he wants from the Incarnates - and Melkor - ever since. It's become a well-honed staple of his negotiation toolkit, a performance so well-rehearsed he barely needs to think about it. It's almost unheard of for anyone to notice that he tends to zone out partway through.

Almost.

Halbrand's tendency to seduce his way out of the doghouse hasn't gone unnoticed by his new queen, and nor has the way his eyes glaze over just as things start to get interesting. She's beginning to wonder whether anyone ever actually told him that intimacy is supposed to be fun. Determined to keep him in the moment with her, she decides she'll just have to teach him that herself.

AKA, Galadriel notices that Halbrand tends to dissociate and put on the act he thinks she wants from him in the bedroom. Concerned, she makes it her mission to show him he's safe to relax and enjoy himself with her - and absolutely wrecks him to make her point.

T+ || Canon Divergence || Galadriel Says Yes, Ainur Family Drama, Mairon's Aulë-Shaped Daddy Issues, Arondir & Theo, Could Be 5+1, Angst & Fluff, Maybe Comedy, Lucifer-Style Therapeutic Breakthrough, Aulë & Mairon Have Different Love Languages/Communication Styles, Galadriel Eyeing Sauron Suspiciously: What Are You Scheming Now, Meanwhile Sauron To Arondir: IDK Man I Just Never Felt Like I Was Good Enough YK? Why Wasn't I Good Enough?, Arondir Just: Your Majesty Have You Considered Therapy

Galadriel names Bronwyn advisor to the newly-restored crown of the Southlands, which means the new king and queen start seeing a lot of her husband and child. Mairon seems fascinated by the little family, and the pseudo-paternal relationship developing between Arondir and Theo - suddenly, he's full of questions about family dynamics for humans and elves. Gradually, the advice of his new wife and friends helps Mairon realise a few things about his own relationship with Aulë.

Alternatively, five times watching Arondir and Theo interact recontextualises a memory for Mairon, and one time he makes a parenting choice with Celebrían and saltily realises Aulë had a point in doing the same thing to him

T+ || Time Travel/Time Loop || Sauron Fucks Up The Timeline, Then Tries To Fix It Without Killing Finrod, Bonus Points If Halbrand Finds He Begrudgingly Likes Finrod, Alternate Meeting, Maybe She's Still A Soldier But Doesn't Remember Him, Maybe He Has To Go Back To Valinor To Even Meet Her, IDK Lots Of Options

The thing about Galadriel's rejection is that it all goes back to the death of her brother.

Either by his own power, or by the power of a Vala who wants to teach him a lesson, Sauron finds himself transported back to shortly before everything fell apart, and realises that, as Halbrand, he has an opportunity to fix everything...by breaking Finrod Felagund out of his own dungeon.

But he's surrounded by dangers, not least of which is his own former self, and time travel is tricky. Saving Felagund's life may have unexpected consequences - without her quest for vengeance, would he ever have met Galadriel at all?

T+ || Canon Divergence || Body-Sharing, The Equivalent Of Having Your Shitty Ex Crashing On Your Couch, Road Trip, There Was Only One Body

Ever since their falling out on the banks of the Glanduin, Sauron has been trying to get into Galadriel's head. One night, furious at yet another invaded dream about a man who never existed, she lashes out. She channels all her power into shoving him off the raft, or stabbing him with Finrod's long-lost dagger - and wakes, shaken and convinced that she just felt Sauron die.

She's half-right. She's successfully caught him by surprise, and ripped him out of his body. Unfortunately for her, since they were connected at the time, she's failed to leave him formless and impotent.

She's dragged him into her own head.

When he awakens, psychological warfare erupts as they battle for control of her body and mind, a twisted back and forth - she tries to drown him in his nightmares, and he tortures her with her broken heart. Eventually, as it becomes clear that the only way to evict him from her brain is to bring him back into proximity with his own body, they reach a tentative, fragile truce. They can hold off on killing each other for as long as it takes to journey across Middle Earth. They hope.

But it's a long way from the Shipwright's home in the Grey Havens to the half-finished tower of Barad-Dur, and a long time to get to grips with someone else's pain. When Halbrand reawakens in Mordor, Galadriel might find she's not so keen to kill him after all.

T+ || AU || Kidfic, Single Mom Galadriel, Halbrand Has A Dog And He's Gonna Make It Everyone's Problem, Step-Sauron, Romcom Vibes, Quite Wholesome Actually, Modern AU

Galadriel's marriage has been hanging by a thread for years, but when her estranged husband Celeborn is confirmed KIA overseas, she unexpectedly finds herself utterly lost in the world. Now a single mother to their heartbroken six-year-old daughter Celebrían, she takes a job offer that moves her little family halfway across the country and finds herself struggling to adjust to her new normal as she tries to settle in to a new area while transitioning from stay-at-home mom to…well. Putting a roof over her daughter's head and making sure Celebrían can see the play therapist a couple times a month.

Lonely, struggling and beginning to wonder if she fucked up by moving away for a fresh start, if she ought to just go home to her parents with her tail between her legs, Galadriel is delighted when Celebrían announces she's made a friend in the next garden over, and goes to introduce herself to her neighbours and invite their child to dinner.

The man who answers the door has tattoos, no kids, and is very happy to introduce her to the new friend Celebrían has been playing catch with over the fence: Carcharoth, an absurdly oversized shepherd mix.

While Galadriel is initially wary of her child getting friendly with a strange man and his rowdy dog, it's nice to have someone her own age to talk to. Someone who looks at her like he sees her, and doesn't find her wanting. Someone who supports her, and lets her support him in turn.

As their lives begin to twine together and they figure out how to fit their jagged edges together in a way that works, Galadriel starts to think she might just want to stay here after all.

AKA: Halbrand kept the dog in his messy breakup with Melkor. Carcharoth learns to play fetch…and fetches Halbrand a whole-ass family

M+ || AU || Wrong Number, Text Fic, Modern AU, Romcom Vibes, Strangers To Friends To Lovers, But Also Strangers To Rivals To Lovers, Halbrand's A+ Flirting, Found Family, Halbrand Uses His Middle Name In His Personal Life I Guess, Tevildo Is Spoiled And Orange

When Galadriel is offered one of four coveted associate spots at a prestigious inner-city law firm, she barely stops to think before wrestling a lifetime's worth of belongings into the trunk of her sensible hatchback and exchanging her sprawling family home in Tirion for an overpriced one-bed apartment in Eregion, halfway across the country.

While she's settling in, she receives a text from an unknown number - a picture of the sender's cat. And although she's not usually the type to strike up a conversation with a stranger, she's feeling rather alone and isolated in a new city while she waits for her first day at work, and so she responds with both a 'wrong number' warning and a question about the cat.

Unexpectedly, Wrong Number Guy texts back.

And keeps texting.

Over months, she develops a friendship with this stranger she's never met. Wrong Number Guy is apparently called Halbrand, has bizarre taste in music, can recommend an excellent restaurant for almost any cuisine, and should be jailed for excessive use of the smirk emoji. He sends her a good luck text on her first day at work, sends her pictures of Tevildo the cat to cheer her up when she's having a bad day, and once orders pizza to her apartment when she's having a really bad day. He also listens to her vent about her fellow associate and work archnemesis, Mairon, who's smug, shady as all hell, and gunning for the same promotion Galadriel wants, which naturally makes him the worst person alive.

As their relationship evolves, Galadriel starts trying to get Halbrand to meet her in real life. But he seems strangely hesitant for someone so charming and sociable, and it makes her wonder. Who is he, really? And what is he hiding from her?

M+ || AU || Modern AU, Sex Work, Accidental Voyeurism, Porn With Plot

Halbrand, being the fortunate owner of a Sexy Voice, has a nice little side gig doing audio porn on OF/Patreon/whatever, and he's Galadriel's go-to jill-off material. When her elderly neighbour transitions into a nursing home and the most obnoxious man alive moves in next door, she can't help feeling as though she's met him before. But it's not until she hears him getting off through their shared bedroom wall that she realises why his voice is so familiar.

G+ || Canon Compliant-ish || Half-Maia Celebrían, Werewolf!Sauron, Father-Daughter Bonding

When Celebrían is small and life is peaceful, Galadriel believes her lands to finally be safe, and the little princess of Lothlórien is free to wander the forest at will. Near the outskirts of her mother's realm, she befriends a strange wolfish creature with yellow eyes.

AKA: Galadriel has custody. Sauron, living as the Necromancer in Dol Guldur, risks sneaking into Lothlórien as a wolf or a warg for visitation.

M+ || AU || Modern AU, Sex Work, OnlyFans, Porn With Plot, Halbrand Is Loaded & Galadriel Is Making Bank, But Also Halbrand Is Interested In Her As A Person So That's A Plus, Online Flirting

Struggling to feel attractive and reclaim her sexuality after the breakdown of her marriage, Galadriel impulsively signs up for OnlyFans following a night out with Nori and one too many cocktails. It's fun and validating and boosts her confidence to get back into the dating scene. But the mediocre men she's meeting at bars and on dating apps quickly begin to pale in comparison to the lavish attentions of her most supportive follower, "darklordsauron", with whom she's beginning to feel an undeniable spark.

M+ || Canon Divergence || Dream Courtship, Prison Penpal, Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Morally Questionable Valar, Reeducation, Attempted Brainwashing

The war is over. Morgoth, brought back to Aman in chains, has sued for clemency, but the Valar do not fall for the same trick twice: it will be the Void for him this time. Thousands of his Úmaiar have been imprisoned in Valinor. And Galadriel, her oath fulfilled, joins the legions of Eldar taking ship back to the Undying Lands.

As she struggles to pick up the threads of her old life, embroidering and baking and waiting for her brothers to return from Mandos, a figure begins to appear in her dreams - in the background at first, becoming increasingly prominent the more she notices him - and she comes to know him as Halbrand the blacksmith.

Galadriel is no fool: she knows "Halbrand" is a Maia, paying court to her through her dreams. And she knows well the Aulendili who worked the Smith's forge when she was apprenticed there: she is certain she can discern the identity of her admirer, with a little time and effort.

But her dreams, she will come to realise, are not coming from Aulë's forge, and her Halbrand is no simple worker.

AKA: The war ends with Morgoth's defeat. Imprisoned by the Valar, Sauron's only escape is osanwe. Galadriel, a powerful telepath in her own right, gets unwittingly signed up to a prison pen pal program.

T+ || Canon Compliant || Third Age Haladriel, Sauron Can Still Be Halbrand In The Mind Palace, Just Not In Real Life, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort

In Caras Galadhon, Galadriel wakes up screaming from a horrifying PTSD nightmare. Instinctively, unintentionally, she reaches out for comfort, for safety, for understanding - not from her husband, sleeping soundly down the hall, but from an ancient evil she's been shutting out for centuries.

Hundreds of miles away in Barâd-Dur, Sauron answers the knock on the door to his mind -

-- and Halbrand does his best to give her what she needs.

M+ || Canon Divergence || Consensual But Neither Safe Nor Sane, Sauron Poking The Bear, Past Abuse, Past Torture, Deliberate Triggering, Halbrand's Morgoth Trauma, Galadriel's Finrod Trauma, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Aftercare In Both Directions, Galadriel Goes Too Far & Finds It Quite Upsetting, Halbrand's Shitty Coping Mechanisms

Sauron has spent hundreds of thousands of years devoted to Morgoth, in a relationship where every dynamic was characterised by power and domination - corrupter and corrupted, king and general, master and servant. In that time, he's learned that pain and punishment are unpleasant but essential components of absolution. When he fails or angers Melkor, he is punished for it, and then - eventually - forgiven.

Now, as Halbrand, he's not getting that same routine, and it's making him antsy and unsettled. Galadriel may have agreed to stay with him and bind him to her light, but he's painfully aware of her hatred for Sauron, the way her brother's corpse still lies between them. But she hasn't taken her retribution, and he hates waiting for the hammer to fall. He remembers all too well what happened the last time he failed to address this kind of resentment from an important ally. He wants her to get it over with.

At his invitation - and after a considerable amount of goading with which he manages to make her snap - she vents centuries of loathing and long-nurtured pain on the monster she's hunted for entire lifetimes - and, for reasons she cannot understand, he lets her. This makes Halbrand feel more stable, but she's horrified at her own loss of control. Together, they try to figure out a better way forward.

M+ || AU || Modern AU: Famous Musicians, Enemies To Lovers, Fake Dating, Romcom Vibes, He Makes Her A Little Bit Worse, She Makes Him A Little Bit Better, Writing Songs Together

Galadriel is a folk singer-songwriter with a squeaky-clean image, fighting to break out of obscurity. Halbrand is a trainwreck rock star on his third tabloid scandal of the year. Frantically attempting damage control, his long-suffering manager makes a deal with hers: a fake relationship. Being seen with her will make it look like he's finally getting his shit together, while being seen with him will give her much-needed exposure to a massive and passionate fanbase.

There's only one downside. She hates his guts.

G+ || Canon Divergence || Bronwyn Is Fine Guys, Comedy, King Of The Southlands Halbrand, Life Lessons, Romantic Cliches, Galadriel Just Wants A Little Bit Of Honesty Y'all

When Halbrand returns to the Southlands elfless and withdrawn, everyone seems to have Opinions on how he can win back Galadriel's affection.

Five times Halbrand follows the well-intentioned romantic advice offered by Bronwyn, Arondir, Theo, Celebrimbor (via letter, probably) and the newly-rescued Isildur, plus one time he finally gives up on the scheming and manipulation and gives Galadriel what she really wants from him: the truth.

G+ || Canon Divergence || Step-Sauron, Celebrían Has Balls Of Steel, Bonding

Halbrand doesn't really understand how to play. Celebrían attempts to bond in a way that will make sense to him.

AKA, Galadriel's eight year old challenges Morgoth's former right hand to a (play) swordfight

T+ || Canon Divergence || Lifespan Differences, Forgiveness In Mortals Vs Elves, King Of The Southlands Halbrand, The Southlanders Know, Bronwyn's A+ Ancient Immortal Entity-Wrangling Skills, Halbrand Goes Back To Pelargir With The Freed Southlanders

When baffling intelligence informs Galadriel that Halbrand has returned to what's left of the Southlands and taken up the crown she helped him steal, her conscience cannot allow her to sit idly by and leave those innocent people ignorant of the snake in their midst, vulnerable to whatever foul plan he's concocting for them. At the head of a train of humanitarian aid from Lindon, she rides for Pelargir to reveal Sauron's secret to his people.

As it turns out…they know. They've noticed. Several people saw him shield the village when the volcano erupted. Those who were imprisoned with him in Mordor have heard him use or understand Black Speech, or seen him calm the wargs. Bronwyn, who spends most of her time with him as Chief Advisor, is convinced that he doesn't sleep enough to be human, and he occasionally references events that happened long before he should've been born. But Sauron - an enemy most living elves have personally fought against - is a name from the very oldest of the Southlanders' stories to these people. A fairytale evil, defeated before their grandfathers' great-grandfathers were even thought of. They're more inclined to judge Halbrand based on what they've seen him do in person - save their lives, suffer for them, shield them from Adar - than on oral history from thousands of years ago, and as it stands, they're feeling considerably safer with their odd Maia king protecting them than they would feel without him. They're giving him a chance to prove he's changed for the better. So, shh, Commander. Let him pretend. He thinks nobody's noticed. There's a betting pool on when he'll figure out that they all know.

To Galadriel, this is…a rather alien viewpoint she has to wrestle with. Can someone really change that much in just a few thousand years?

T+ || Canon Divergence || Single Mom Galadriel, Teenage Celebrían, Step-Sauron, King Of The Southlands Halbrand, Mother-Daughter Relationships, Halbrand's Aule-Shaped Daddy Issues, Family Feelings, Bad Mom Galadriel Rights

Elves have immense lifespans and enjoy commensurably long childhoods; when Galadriel left her very young daughter in the care of distant relatives to go off and hunt down Sauron, she always assumed that she'd miss very little of Celebrían's youth in the grand scheme of things. But she's been gone a very long time, and when she finally sends for the newly-minted princess of the Southlands to join her in Pelargir, what arrives is not a sweet little girl but an angry, uprooted adolescent whose memories of her mother and father have gone fuzzy over centuries.

As mother and daughter struggle to reconnect and understand each other, Halbrand - poster child for parental abandonment issues - tries to bridge the gap.

T+ || Canon Divergence || Galadriel Said Yes, King Of The Southlands Halbrand, Power Couple, Kemen Being An Asshole, Political Manoeuvring, Halbrand Is An Incredibly Savvy Diplomat, Kemen Is Way Out Of His Depth, Kemen Trying To Sway Haladriel To Pharazon's Side, Possibly By Spouting The Lie That Míriel Has Allied With Sauron, Careful My Guy Or Sauron Might Just Decide To Uphold That So-Called 'Alliance' And Start Causing Problems, Galadriel's A+ Maia Wrangling Skills VS Her Friendship With Míriel FIGHT, Halbrand Getting To Go A Bit Feral

Kemen arrives in Pelargir to take control of the city, under the impression that no grubby, uneducated low man would dare challenge the new prince of Westernesse and his contingent of Númenorean guards.

But the king of the Southlands is not, in truth, a low man.

And neither is his new queen.

G+ || Canon Divergence || Pippin Took's A+ Life Choices, Butt Dialling The Dark Lord, Pippin Tries His Hand At Relationship Therapy, Outsider Perspective, Gandalf POV

In ROTK, Sauron answers the Palantír like he's really hoping it might be Galadriel this time. Pippin Took is not Galadriel, but he has recently met her, and - since he's not the brightest bulb and doesn't really cotton on that he's just accidentally facetimed the Dark Lord - he's perfectly happy to tell this complete stranger all about that experience in detail. Sauron, smart enough to realise that he might get some usable intel about Lothlorien out of this strange little creature, entertains the conversation for longer than he otherwise might have. Pippin is even pretty easy to talk to.

And when Gandalf bursts in, half-expecting the dear little soul to be driven mad with agony, he finds Pippin…very earnestly trying to talk Mairon through how to fix his relationship problems - an undertaking of such colossal stupidity that the entire West gave it up entire Ages ago.

And Mairon actually seems to be listening.

Angbang

T+ || Angsty || Outsider Perspective, Ainur Family Drama, Melkor Is A Mess But He's Mairon's Mess, Even Evil Has Loved Ones, The Valar Concept Of Love & Melkor's Concept Of Love As Very Different Things

Angband is a smoking ruin. The Enemy is a captive of the Valar. The war, it would seem, is over.

But the Ainur are uneasy. Not all of Morgoth's forces have been subdued. The Enemy's favourite servant has slipped the net, and getting information out of Melkor is like pulling teeth. Under questioning - and even the threat of the Void - in Valinor, he still refuses to tell them where his devoted lieutenant Sauron has gone into hiding.

Aulë, waiting for news of his wayward Maia, tries to make sense of how even the most corrupted of them all can be beholden to forces like love and loyalty, and how it can be that none of them ever saw this coming.

T+ || Fluff & Comedy || Epistolary Fic, Long-Distance Relationship, Leading Armies Means Being Apart A Lot, First Age, Love Letters, Complaint Letters As Well Lbh They Probably Bitch To Each Other A Lot About Everyone Else

Melkor's rise and fall, as told by the orders Melkor sends to Mairon, the reports Mairon sends back, and the informal postscripts attached to both.

M+ || PWP || Creative Use Of The Mind Palace, Telepathy, I Could Not Find A Mention On The Wiki Of Where Sauron Was During This Siege, So Let's Assume He Wasn't Like. Also Stuck In Angband

During the 400 year Siege of Angband, Melkor uses ósanwë to leave the surrounded fortress and spend some quality time with Mairon.

T+ || Angsty || Sanity Slippage, Hallucinations, Melkor Trying To Envision His Happily Ever After Even Though He Doesn't Know What Happily Ever After Looks Like

Sentenced to eternity in the Void, and slowly losing his mind to the isolation and sensory deprivation, Melkor comforts himself with visions of his little fire spirit.

Silvergifting

G+ || Fluffy || Celebrimbor Has A Crush, But He's Very Sweet About It, Possible Angst, Celebrimbor Probably Needs Closure Too, Halbrand Should Not Be Forging But He Can Still Hang Out

Celebrimbor likes to work late. Flattered by the admiration of a handsome young king, and delighted to have a fellow passionate smith to bounce ideas off, he takes to letting Halbrand join him in his workshop in the evenings while the latter is healing. One night, while swapping theories about the mithril and definitely not watching the candlelight catch on Halbrand's hair, he finds himself making a gift of his own. After all, a king should have a crown, and what better crown than one made by 'the Celebrimbor'?

(Possible angsty bonus scene: many thousands of years later, Galadriel seeks closure and a final goodbye in Mordor after Sauron's downfall. In the ruins of Barad-Dur she finds the crown that Celebrimbor made for a king who never existed, kept in Sauron's quarters as though treasured. Maybe she rescues it to take back to Valinor)

Poly/Multiple Ships

M+ || Saurondriel/Angbang || Past Abuse, Telepathy, The Mortifying Ordeal Of Learning To Make Better Romantic Choices, Sauron Loves & Fears Melkor Equally, Letting Go, Saurondriel Is Not Healthy But In This Case It Is HealthIER, So Like. That's Something

Sauron and Morgoth were still telepathically connected when Morgoth was thrown into the Void. A fragment of his consciousness remains in Sauron's mind, manifesting as a hallucination that only he can see and hear. At first, he is Melkor, the doting lover Sauron chooses to remember, amusing and affectionate and comforting and so, so missed. But, as rage and fear take over and the Void begins to drive Melkor mad, he increasingly behaves like Morgoth, the side of himself Sauron would rather forget - the cruel master whose wrath he fled after his defeat at Tol-in-Gaurhoth. With 'his' Melkor appearing less and less, Sauron becomes more and more burned out under the slew of criticism and mockery, and his confidence in his own ability to lead takes an additional battering when his subordinate turns on him at Forodwaith. When he happens to cross paths with Galadriel, he realises almost immediately that the light in her silences Morgoth's voice in his mind. As they grow closer, her unwavering belief in him - or, at least, in "Halbrand" - makes him want to do good, to please her and prove he's worthy of her support. But Morgoth is not the only voice silenced by proximity to Galadriel, and letting Melkor go is an agony he's not sure he can survive.

T+ || Angbang, Saurondriel, Galadriel/Celeborn || Having The Same Conversation While Thinking About Entirely Different People, She's Thinking About Celeborn, He's Thinking About Melkor, Halbrand's Species Has A Mayfly Lifespan & A Casual Approach To Intimacy So She Is Not Expecting Him To Understand At All, But He Really Really Does

When their flirty banter turns to their respective races' romantic customs, Galadriel finds herself opening up to Halbrand about elven marriage, about her long-lost husband, and about her feelings of guilt over her attraction to him.

Halbrand empathises. More than she ever thought he could.

M+ || AU || Saurondriel, Galadriel/Celeborn || Modern AU, Porn With Plot, Safe Sane & Consensual, Sex Work, Polyamory, Threesomes, Kink, Switch Halbrand, Galadriel & Celeborn Are Figuring Out What They Like So Who Knows, Halbrand Blacks Out & Has A Consensual Workplace Relationship

Galadriel's marriage has been going stale for years by the time her husband hesitantly comes out as bisexual. Secure in their relationship and trying to support him, she suggests a threesome to liven up their staid, predictable sex life - and, after some thought, Celeborn agrees. His one condition is that the third should be a professional, so that the situation won't get messy. Halbrand is the professional; they have a fantastic time with him and begin seeing him regularly. The first time they hire him, they all believe that this is the best way to avoid anyone catching feelings for anyone else. This, of course, goes really well for everyone involved.

M+ || AU || Saurondriel, Galadriel/Celebrimbor, Silvergifting ||Polyamory, Open Marriage, Copious Blacksmithing, Hurt/Comfort, Halbrand Recovering In Eregion, Relationship Miscommunications

A long time ago, Galadriel married Celebrimbor. They're fond of each other, but since circumstances so often keep them apart (Galadriel hunting Sauron for decades at a time, Celebrimbor inseparable from his forge), they've been quietly maintaining an open marriage for centuries, each occasionally seeking out discrete companionship when they feel the need.

This arrangement has worked well for them for hundreds of years. Neither of them expects it to ever change, or cause drama.

Enter Halbrand.

When Galadriel returns from Númenor with her wounded Southlander king, Celebrimbor is delighted to discover his wife's lover is a fellow smithing nerd. As Halbrand convalesces, Celebrimbor finds himself increasingly drawn to the charming young man and, in spending time with him, actually grows closer to his own wife.

When Halbrand's true identity comes to light, Galadriel is devastated, and Celebrimbor finds himself fighting to keep the three-way bond they've built from imploding.

M+ || Canon Divergence: Early S2 || Saurondriel, Silvergifting || Adar Frees The Southlanders & Creates A Problem, King Of The Southlands Halbrand, Aftermath Of Torture, Celebrimbor Rescues Halbrand From Mordor, Because He Has A Little Crush, Halbrand Recovering In Eregion AGAIN, Reunions

The Men of the Southlands have always been a stubborn, difficult people. Having waited over a thousand years for their royal line to reassert itself, and having seen control over their occupied lands ceded by no less than an elvish general, they're now proving very reluctant to give up on their shiny new king. When Halbrand trades his own surrender for his people's freedom, the displaced refugees descend upon the elven realms, petitioning Gil-Galad and Celebrimbor - Halbrand's apparent allies via Galadriel - to mount a rescue.

Although Galadriel's unsanctioned diplomatic manoeuvring has put him in a difficult position, Gil-Galad opts not to intervene; he thinks leaving Sauron and the orcs to duke it out between them will spare elven lives. For Galadriel herself - still reeling from the shock and betrayal of Halbrand's identity reveal, firmly in the doghouse with her High King, and demoted from her military station - this decision is a difficult one to stomach, as she struggles to reconcile her hatred for Sauron with the sudden fear and concern she feels for Halbrand, along with her own loss of her king's trust and inability to influence or counsel Gil-Galad to her advantage anymore. She's been cut out of the decision-making completely.

When she hears that Celebrimbor - for reasons she cannot begin to understand - has disobeyed Gil-Galad to send soldiers into Mordor to retrieve Halbrand, she rides for Eregion immediately, still not entirely sure whether she wants to see for herself that he's safe, or take the opportunity to kill him personally.

T+ || AU || Saurondriel, Silvergifting, Angbang || Goo Sauron, Sauron As The Rings, Maybe Being Split Into Three Rings Also Splits Him Into Three Personalities, So Galadriel Gets Halbrand/Repentant Mairon Who Is Smitten With Her, Celebrimbor Gets Annatar Who Grows To Be Fond Of Him, And Gil-Galad Gets Sauron Who Is Above All Things Fond Of Morgoth, The First Two Are Varying Degrees Of Tractable & Willing To Work/Compromise With Their Elven Bearers, But The Third One Is Manipulative And Wants Melkor Back, Which Is A Problem, And Now Sauron Is Attached To Possibly The Most Powerful King In Middle Earth At The Time

Galadriel does not find Sauron in Forodwaith, but she does find something that catches her attention: a strange ooze that moves almost like a living thing. Disturbed and suspicious, she catches it in a container and takes it back to Eregion with her, hoping one of the scholars there will be able to tell her what it is. Despite a few odd moments on the journey that make her wonder whether the goo might somehow be sentient, Eregion's scientists determine that the ooze is not an animal - it's a highly magically potent substance, probably leftover from Sauron's experiments.

Galadriel has some misgivings, but ultimately, Celebrimbor has some projects he thinks the goo might prove useful for, and she hands it over. He incorporates it into his Rings.

It's not until Galadriel slides Nenya onto her finger and begins having some strange dreams/hearing voices that she realises the truth: they've accidentally trapped a disincorporated Maia in there. Now they have to figure out how to free him.

And all Sauron has to do is not let on which Maia they've unwittingly imprisoned.

AKA: Mairon's ëala is in the Three, and he wants out. This has consequences (whether funny, romantic, horrifying, etc) for the ringbearers.

#angbang #haladriel #silvergifting #saurondriel #barduil #bagginshield #tolkien #tolkien prompts #tolkien fic prompts #lotr #the hobbit #the rings of power #lotr trop #trop #as you can see i like my angbang either very romo or very toxic or both #middle earth #middle earth fic prompts #prompt goblinry #lord of the rings

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actual-bill-potts · 2 years ago

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I don’t understand why the most common interpretation of the battle of Finrod and Sauron I see is that Finrod lost because Sauron had the moral high ground, or even because Finrod felt particularly guilty about Alqualondë.

It's certainly possible that Finrod felt some measure of guilt over the First Kinslaying, whether that be for not stopping it, for not turning back with his father, or for being willing to take the ships of his mother's people. You can certainly argue that he had some sort of moral culpability for not taking a stand with Arafinwë, though I personally think that's taking personal responsibility to a rather absurd length given that Finrod neither killed anybody nor actually ever set foot in a stolen ship.

Rather, I think what defeated Finrod was the invocation of despair. Looking at the relevant passage from the Lay of Leithian:

He chanted a song of wizardry, Of piercing, opening, of treachery, Revealing, uncovering, betraying.

Sauron is trying to figure out who they are.

Then sudden Felagund there swaying Sang in answer a song of staying, Resisting, battling against power, Of secrets kept, strength like a tower, And trust unbroken, freedom, escape; Of changing and of shifting shape, Of snares eluded, broken traps, The prison opening, the chain that snaps.

Finrod is saying, "No, I will not tell you who we are," but look at specifically how he does it. He's saying, "everyone with me trusts me, and I trust them. You can't overcome that."

Backwards and forwards swayed their song. Reeling and foundering, as ever more strong The chanting swelled, Felagund fought, And all the magic and might he brought Of Elvenesse into his words. Softly in the gloom they heard the birds Singing afar in Nargothrond, The sighing of the Sea beyond, Beyond the western world, on sand, On sand of pearls in Elvenland.

ok this part always makes me cry cuz it's so beautiful, but more to the point: Finrod is backing up his statement that Sauron cannot recognize them with power. What power? The power of Elvenesse, of Elvenhome: of Elven strongholds. He specifically invokes Nargothrond - a beautiful kingdom, the symbol of friendship between Elves and Dwarves, and more to the point a place of safety for Elves, whose location Morgoth does not know. And then he invokes Alqualondë. Unwise, perhaps; but he is right that Alqualonde was never touched by Morgoth. It was under the protection of Ulmo and also too far for the light of the Trees to be reached, so Morgoth didn't directly harm the Teleri on the day of the Darkening. Finrod is saying, here: even in the hour of his greatest triumph, Morgoth couldn't harm all Elves. Ulmo is on our side. We will always be able to escape.

Then the gloom gathered; darkness growing In Valinor, the red blood flowing Beside the Sea, where the Noldor slew The Foamriders, and stealing drew Their white ships with their white sails From lamplit havens. The wind wails, The wolf howls. The ravens flee. The ice mutters in the mouths of the Sea. The captives sad in Angband mourn. Thunder rumbles, the fires burn— And Finrod fell before the throne.

To Finrod's argument, Sauron responds: guess what? Morgoth didn't even have to attack the Teleri. The Noldor did that for him. There are no safe places, because the Noldor have set themselves against gods: even if you escape Morgoth, you will fall under the Doom of Mandos. The battle is hopeless, and always will be hopeless. The Noldor are doomed.

Interestingly, he does address Finrod's two points directly. He first points out that even if the Teleri escaped Morgoth, they couldn't escape the malice he had sown among the Noldor. But then he invokes "captives sad in Angband" and "the fires burn," which seems to be a pretty clear reference to the curse laid upon Húrin and the eventual fall of Nargothrond to Glaurung. Sauron is saying: Nargothrond will fall too.

The thing is: he is right. The Teleri were slaughtered. Nargothrond fell. Gondolin fell. Doriath fell. Sirion fell. The Noldor are in a tragedy, and they know it. Finrod knows it, and he cannot argue back.

Of course, the thing that makes The Silmarillion so powerful is that even in Finrod's hour of darkest despair, neither he nor Beren nor his Ten give up their names and their errand. Finrod gives up his life to buy Beren a few more hours; and by his valour the line of Beren and Lúthien was saved, and the Doom of the Noldor lifted.

Endurance beyond hope is a central theme of Tolkien's work, no matter the Age: in Frodo's desperate errand, in Celebrimbor's refusal to give up the Three, and in Finrod's refusal to accept Beren's death no matter the cost. Finrod lost; how could he do otherwise? But even without hope, he kept going. And in the end, he was returned beyond hope to joy: "...Felagund laughs beneath the trees / in Valinor, and comes no more / to this grey world of tears and war."

#finrod #battle of finrod and sauron #sauron #silm meta #my writing #the silmarillion

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middle-earth-mythopoeia · 1 year ago

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On Finrod’s battle with Sauron

There’s an interpretation of this scene that the battle of songs showed Finrod’s pride and hubris, and that he lost because of it, but that doesn’t make sense to me.

For one thing, Finrod only fought Sauron to protect Beren and their companions. It’s not like he sought out a duel with him or had a misplaced belief that he would win, the way Sauron sought out a duel with Huan. I’m sure Finrod didn’t think he would win. He sang a song of resisting.

If anything, Finrod’s decision to go on the quest with Beren shows his humility, because he doesn’t see himself as more important than the Edain, and he considers keeping his word to Barahir to be more important than his own safety.

Finrod’s loss to Sauron doesn’t reflect his pride; it reflects the fact that Sauron is a Maia and is far more powerful. And I think there’s something else going on.

He chanted a song of wizardry, Of piercing, opening, of treachery, Revealing, uncovering, betraying. Then sudden Felagund there swaying, Sang in answer a song of staying, Resisting, battling against power, Of secrets kept, strength like a tower, And trust unbroken, freedom, escape; Of changing and of shifting shape, Of snares eluded, broken traps, The prison opening, the chain that snaps. Backwards and forwards swayed their song. Reeling and foundering, as ever more strong The chanting swelled, Felagund fought, And all the magic and might he brought Of Elvenesse into his words. Softly in the gloom they heard the birds Singing afar in Nargothrond, The sighing of the Sea beyond, Beyond the western world, on sand, On sand of pearls in Elvenland. Then the gloom gathered; darkness growing In Valinor, the red blood flowing Beside the Sea, where the Noldor slew The Foamriders, and stealing drew Their white ships with their white sails From lamplit havens. The wind wails, The wolf howls. The ravens flee. The ice mutters in the mouths of the Sea. The captives sad in Angband mourn. Thunder rumbles, the fires burn— And Finrod fell before the throne.

It’s worth pausing for a moment just to say that I think this is one of Tolkien’s most beautiful and powerful poems. The imagery is amazing. It gives me chills every time. I love how you can hear what he’s describing, like the birds softly singing, and the repetition of ‘the sighing of the sea beyond, beyond the western world, on sand, on sand of pearls in Elvenland…’ And then the way he uses color—the red blood, the white ships—just makes it even more intense. The alliteration! The rhyming! The increasingly short sentences, and the crescendo of the last line! It’s literally INCREDIBLE.

I think it’s worth analyzing the imagery of the Kinslaying and why it seemingly allows Sauron to win—it appears that Finrod draws on the ‘magic and might’ of Nargothrond and Valinor, and then Sauron turns it on him by singing about Alqualondë—but my impression from this is not that Finrod is too proud.

Sauron was never able to learn their identities (‘secrets kept’), none of the companions betrayed each other (‘trust unbroken’), Finrod broke his chains (‘the chain that snaps’), the fortress is destroyed (‘the prison opening’), and Beren is rescued by Lúthien (‘freedom, escape’).

What if it was Finrod’s song of power that later allowed him to break his chains and save Beren from the wolf? What if Finrod actually shaped reality with his song of power?

Yes, Sauron defeated him, that was almost inevitable. But Finrod’s song still achieved something, even after it was over. I think Finrod knew he couldn’t win. I think winning wasn’t his objective. Protecting Beren was.

#Finrod #my writing #I disagree with the interpretation that Finrod’s supposed ‘guilt’ over the Kinslaying caused him to lose #Why would Finrod feel guilty about the Kinslaying? He didn’t participate in it #And yes he was still willing to fight alongside some Elves who did #But I don’t see the logic that Alqualonde would make him feel guilty

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imakemywings · 2 years ago

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Why Ship Eärendil/Elwing?

I think there are a lot of good reasons so let’s have a look (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

1. They have a lot in common. Both of them went through pretty traumatic events as children that involved being driven from their homes by an attacking force, losing family to that attacking force (Eärendil’s grandfather, Elwing’s parents and her brothers), and ending up refugees. They’re also at this point the only Peredhil in Middle-earth. There are a lot of difficult experiences they share, which allows them to understand each other on a level people without those experiences can’t as well.

2. They grew up together. They grew up in the Havens at Sirion and childhood-friends-to-lovers is a fire trope as far as I’m concerned. It’s very possible they played together as kids and they were there through each other’s awkward adolescent phases and talked each other through other crushes before they finally got together.

3. They obviously care about each other. We don’t see the details of a lot of marriages in The Silmarillion. Many of them are left wholly to the imagination as to how those characters acted around each other, but Eärendil and Elwing are explicitly devoted to each other.

“Eärendil found not Tuor nor Idril, nor came he ever on that journey to the shores of Valinor, defeated by shadows and enchantment. driven by repelling winds, until in longing for Elwing he turned homeward....” (Emphasis added)

Eärendil attempting his first voyage to Valinor is beset by all kinds of dangers, but it’s missing Elwing that finally makes him turn back and call this trip a bust.

“For Ulmo bore up Elwing out of the waves, and he gave her the likeness of a great white bird, and upon her breast there shone as a star the Silmaril, as she flew over the water to seek Eärendil her beloved.” (Emphasis added)

Beloved remains one of the peak terms of endearment, lbr.

“Then Eärendil, first of living Men, landed on the immortal shores...And Eärendil said to [his companions]: ‘Here none but myself shall set foot, lest you fall under the wrath of the Valar. But that peril I will take on myself alone, for the sake of the Two Kindreds.’

But Elwing answered: ‘Then would our paths be sundered for ever; but all thy perils I will take on myself also.’ And she leaped into the white foam and ran towards him...”

Elwing really said “if you’re damned then I will be too.” Here she accepts Eärendil’s fate, just as Eärendil later accepts hers and chooses the Elven path.

“But when all was spoken, Manwë gave judgement, and he said: ‘In this matter the power of doom is given to me. The peril that he ventured for love of the Two Kindreds shall not fall upon Eärendil, nor shall it fall upon Elwing his wife, who entered into peril for love of him...” (Emphasis added)

Even the Valar recognize how much these two care about each other!

“And at times, when Eärendil returning drew near again to Arda, she [Elwing] would fly to meet him, even as she had flown long ago, when she was rescued from the sea. Then the far-sighted among the Elves that dwelt in the Lonely Isle would see her like a white bird, shining, rose-stained in the sunset, as she soared in joy to greet the coming of Vingilot to haven.” (Emphasis added)

After their journey, even in spite of all their grief, they still find joy in one another. Their marriage is still strong even through everything they’ve seen.

4. They saved Middle-earth together. These two did what no one else had managed and sailed back to the Blessed Realm to get help for Middle-earth. Clearly, power couple moves.

”Yet Eärendil saw now no hope left in the lands of Middle-earth, and he turned again in despair and came not home, but sought back once more to Valinor with Elwing at his side.”

Friendly remind this journey is supposed to be impossible, but they are determined to do it because they know Middle-earth cannot survive without the intercession of the Valar.

“Few of the Teleri were willing to go forth to war, for they remembered the slaying at the Swanhaven, and the rape of their ships; but they hearkened to Elwing...and they sent mariners enough to sail the ships that bore the hose of Valinor east over the sea.”

But for Elwing, the Teleri would not have engaged in the war effort at all; she alone convinced them to help.

“But Eärendil came, shining with white flame, and about Vingilot were gathered all the great birds of heaven and Thorondor was their captain, and there was battle in the air all day and through a dark night of doubt. But before the rising of the sun Eärendil slew Ancalagon the Black, the mightiest of the dragon-host, and cast him down from the sky...”

From start to finish Eärendil and Elwing have been committed to saving Middle-earth from Melkor’s menace and boy do they see it through.

5. Eärendil chooses immortality to stay with Elwing. In a mirror of Beren and Lúthien’s story, Eärendil surrenders a mortal fate to stay joined with Elwing.

“Then Eärendil said to Elwing: ‘Choose thou, for now I am weary of the world.’ And Elwing chose to be judged among the Firstborn Children of Ilúvatar, because of Lúthien; and for her sake Eärendil chose alike...”

Eärendil both trusts Elwing to make this choice for both of them and makes the same choice as her even though it isn’t his first preference.

6. Eärendil named his boat, which becomes the immortal vessel in which he sails through the skies, after Elwing. Can we say romance?

7. Elwing gives Eärendil the Silmaril. In general, most people who get their hands on a Silmaril are not keen to give it up. Yet Elwing passes the Silmaril onto Eärendil without a fuss and never again takes possession of it.

8. Their super rad mythological couple energy. Half-Elven couple who braved the sea to voyage to a realm it was supposed to be impossible for them to find to bring back divine help for their home? Last queen of the forest kingdom who in her moment of greatest despair is lifted up by divine forces and transformed? Hero of the last bastion of the Elves in Middle-earth who uses his mariner skills to make an impossible voyage, bearing back a jewel thought lost forever? Former Elven queen who now abides in a white tower on the sea and talks to birds and transforms into a bird herself to fly up to greet the return of her husband? Immortal captain of a flying ship that slew a dragon and now keeps watch over the stars? They are killing it y’all.

Feel free to add on o(*￣▽￣*)ブ

All quotes in this post are from the “Of the Voyage of Eärendil and the War of Wrath” chapter of The Silmarillion!

Convinced? Not convinced? Try these fanfic recs under the cut:

At the Water’s Edge by crackinthecup - G - 3,349 - Eärrámë is nearly ready to sail. Tuor and Idril’s days at the Havens of Sirion are drawing to an end. It is a time of loss and hope for all, and Elwing is no exception.

Elwing, Survivor by crownlessliestheking - T - Elwing and Earendil after arriving in Valinor.

From the Ones Who Came Before by Krita - T - 5,247 - Elwing was young when Menegroth fell. Melian's line is complicated, but far more so is growing into yourself.

A Glimpse of the Harbor by me - G - 1,925 - Elwing watched for the return of Earendil's ship.

How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful by mochimilku - T - 1,185 - Eärendil, Elwing, and the ocean.

Let Us Taunt Old Care with a Merry Air / And Sing in the Face of Ill by me - G - 643 - When Elwing lands in the Havens, she befriends a young princeling from Gondolin.

The One With All the Birds by clothono - G - 46,543 - Elwing and Nerdanel in Valinor in the Fourth Age; a story about children coming home.

So Summer Comes by potatoesanddreams - G - 2,654 - Ada said he would be home by autumn equinox. It is winter solstice now.

Untitled by simaethae - G - E-squared family fluff.

#elwing #earendil #the silmarillion #meta #tolkien tag #let me just be clear I do not want to hear about why you think they were terrible #or why you want to portray them as shit parents #this is not the post for that #I am trying to be positive dammit #starwing #earendil x elwing #mine #earendil defense #elwing defense

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shipcestuous · 4 months ago

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Never really considered Elrond/Arwen as a ship, but that anon's message and your reply to it reminded that I HAD thought of them in hypothetical "this sounds like a love triangle" terms before.

So, here's a couple of details I hope you guys will appreciate!

In the movie, Elrond looks like a stern, mature, authoritative figure in contrast with Arwen's youthful beauty. In the book, however, they're both said to possess an ageless beauty, looking neither young nor old. Book!Elrond has the wise, venerable air of an old king but the vigor of a young hero, as well as a beautiful face and an appreciation for both merriment and pleasant things (good food, good music, comfortable rest, etc.) and quieter, more introspective moments. Book!Arwen, with her lustrous black hair, grey eyes glittering like stars, smooth and soft white skin, and stark resemblance to Luthien (Arwen's ancestor and possibly the fairest Elven maiden in Middle-earth's history, to whom Arwen is said to be so similar, she could pass for her reincarnation) actually looks so much like him that Frodo figures out they must be related in some way at first glance.

Elrond had a wife, Celebrian, who gave him three children: twins Elladan and Elohir, and then Arwen, the only daughter. Tragically, Celebrian was captured and tortured by orcs, and while her sons later rescued her and she recovered from the physical injuries, Elrond never managed to help her mind heal from the trauma. So, eventually, she sailed to the West, hoping to find peace in Valinor. I'm not sure how old Arwen would be by that point, but I could imagine her stepping in to take on her mother's duties as the lady of the house in some capacity, leading to potentially suggestive scenarios. I could also imagine her trying to console both her father and her brothers, telling them that what happened to Celebrian wasn't their fault and helping them face the sad truth that they simply couldn't have done more for her.

From The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen in LOTR's Appendices: "And [Arwen] stood then as still as a white tree, looking into the West, and at last she said: "I will cleave to you, [Aragorn], and turn from the Twilight. Yet there lies the land of my people and the long home of all my kin." She loved her father dearly." 'Nuff said. Beautiful juxtaposition whether you ship them or not.

Aragorn himself is both distantly related to them and was essentially raised (at least in part) by Elrond. For the former, as the last descendant of the kings of Numenor, his bloodline actually started with Elros, Elrond's twin brother who, when faced with the choice between Elves and Men due to his half-elven nature, chose mortality. For the latter, when Aragorn was only two years old, his father Arathorn was killed by orcs, so his mother Gilraen took him and went to Rivendell, where Elrond took care of Aragorn as if he were one of his sons and only revealed his true name and heritage to him when he was twenty. Unfortunately, what could have been a sweet foster/adoptive brosis romance was thwarted by... Arwen spending that whole time on a visit to her grandmother Galadriel (yup, she's Celebrian's mom!) and missing out on Aragorn growing up, only coming back when he was already a young adult. Still, Elrond is less opposed to Aragorn marrying Arwen in the book, worrying about her marrying a man of lower birth than her (Elrond's has a VERY illustrious family!) and a mortal at that but being more accepting of their love (after all, Luthien herself fell for the mortal Beren and never backed down on her decision in spite of a long strings of hardships, dangers, and deaths), so it couldn't be too far off to imagine him being at least somewhat moved by the idea of his "son" making his daughter happy.

So many great details, Anon. Thank you!

The love triangle vibes are so amusing. I love the idea of Arwen stepping in as a substitute mom. And yeah, the movie depicted Elrond in a certain way, but just because he's older than Arwen doesn't mean he's old. He's not even an especially old elf, compared to someone like Galadriel, right?

#asks #anonymous #r: fd #nc #arwen and elrond #commentary #noiv #nr #tw: incest #tolkienverse

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warrioreowynofrohan · 10 months ago

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Silmarillion Daily - Of the City of Tirion in Valinor

Today we get the building of the city of Tirion where, for the moment, both the Vanyar and the Noldor are living.

Upon the crown of Túna the city of the Elves was built, the white walls and terraces of Tirion; and the highest of the towers of that city was the Tower of Ingwë, Mindon Eldaliéva, whose silver lamp shone far out into the mists of the sea. Few are the ships of mortal Men that have seen its slender beam. In Tirion upon Túna the Vanyar and the Noldor dwelt long in fellowship. And since of all things in Valinor they loved most the White Tree, Yavanna made for them a tree like to a lesser image of Telperion, save that it did not give light of its own being; Galathilion it was named in the Sindarin tongue. This tree was planted in the courts beneath the Mindon and there flourished, and its seedlings were many in Eldamar.

The main thing that jumped out at me from this that I had not noticed before is that, while the most famous descendent of the tree Galathilion (descended from a seedling in Eressëa called Celeborn) is the White Tree of Númenor, and later the White Tree of Gondor, that’s just one compared to the many that exist in Valinor. There are mallorns in Valinor as well; I expect that in the ages of the Sun, the pairing of the silver seedlings of Galathlion and the mallorns with their golden flowers remind the elves bittersweetly of the two Trees of Valinor.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #valinor #elves #trees #silmarillion daily

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silmarillion-dnd · 8 months ago

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Elvers:

Masterlist

Eldar:

Vanyar:

About: The Vanyar are the smallest host of Eldar, and were all blessed by Manwe who gave them gifts of poetry and song. All Vanyar have + 2 when using their voice, for singing or convincing others and advantage on Intelligence. They prefer to fight with spears and have white banners in battle. They are residents of Oiolossë and Valimar. They speak Sindarin (common) and Quenya (the Vanyar dialect). If they were born in Valinor they glow in the dark meaning enemies might spot them.

Description: The Vanyar all have golden hair.

Noldor:

About: The Noldor is the second host of the Eldar. Noldor means those who know, showing their thirst for knowledge. They are known for being the most skillful of the Eldar hosts and were loved by Aule, whom they learned from. Their most known skills include developing their language, building castles and towns, gem cutting, and smithing. They are also infamously known as being the proudest of the Elvers. They have advantage in Intelligence and Wisdom. As a Noldor you can be devoted to any of the Valar except Namo. They favor swords and shields above other weapons. They are residents of Tirion, Formenos, Nevrast, Hithlum, Gondolin, Nargothrond, Dorhonion, All East Beleriand, and Lindon (all over Beleriand these are just the most known of). They speak Sindarin (common) and Quenya. If they were born in Valinor they glow in the dark meaning enemies might spot them.

Description: The Noldor are known for their black (dark) and a few times red hair, and grey eyes. They are about 7 feet tall.

Teleri:

About: The Teleri is the third and largest host of the Eldar who moved to Valinor. They are known for their fair voices, which they were once named after. They have advantage in Intelligence and Charisma. They are residents of Alqualondë, Isle of Balar, Ossiriand, Doriath, Tol Eressëa, and Mithlond. They speak Sindarin (common), Quenya, Telerin, and Nandorin. If they were born in Valinor they glow in the dark meaning enemies might spot them.

Description: They are known for their mostly silver, and at times dark, hair, and some were said to have skin so pale it was described as white.

Falmari (Sub-Race of the Teleri): The Falmari were the Teleri who took the Great Journey into Beleriand and reached Valinor, and are known for their ships. They are residents of Alqualondë and Tol Eressëa. They speak Sindarin (common), Quenya, and Telerin.

Sindar (Sub-Race of the Teleri): The Sindar, also known as the grey Elvers are good singers, woodsmen, and shipbuilders. Their hair is usually dark. They are residents in Doriath, the Falas, and Nan Elmoth (all over Beleriand these are just the most known of). They speak Sindarin (common).

Nandor (Sub-Race of the Teleri): The Nandor is the Teleri who turned aside from the Great Journey to the Misty Mountains, they are described as having white skin, and dark or brown hair, and are great lovers of nature and animals in the dark and deep forests, and are a very secretive folk. They are called green Elvers. They are farmers out from their name Nandor which means farmer. They are residents of Lothlórien, as the first people there, Greenwood the Great (although that´s first mentioned in the second age, they where the first residents there so they probably where there in the first age too), Belfalas, Ithilien, might have been the first there, and Ethir Anduin, as the first people there. They speak Sindarin (common), Silvan Elvish, and Nandorin (their own language). If you play as a Nandor you automatically have an Elven Cloak (a cloak that can blend into any form of environment and gives you +3 on stealth).

Silvan (Sub-Race of the Nando): Silvan, also known as wood Elvers, are rivals to Dwarves, and descending of the Nandor who choose to live in the Vales of Anduin. They are residents of Lothlórien, Ithilien, Edhellond, Greenwood the Great, and Belfalas. They speak Sindarin (common) and Silvan Elvish (their own langue). If you play as a Silvan you automatically have an Elven Cloak (a cloak that can blend into any form of environment and gives you +3 on stealth).

Avari (Moriquendi):

About: The Avari, or unwilling according to the Vanyar and Noldor, where the Elvers who refused to take the great journey. Some of them are said to know dark magic (following the letters and drafts it´s either song or rune magic (you can choose only one if playing an Avari)) and others where said to be corrupted by Morgoth or having turned savage in the wild, and their biggest rivals are said to be the Eldar. What is known about them is that they lived in tribes with unique and private cultures and rituals, some big others small, consisting of usually family, although only six tribes are mentioned; Kindi, Cuind, Hwenti, Windan, Kinn-lai, Penni. They are residents of Eriador, Rhûn, Taur-Im-Duinath, and the Vales of Anduin. They speak Sindarin (common) and various Avarin languages (their own languages).

Description: Nothing is said about how they look.

Pros: They have advantage in Dexterity, Constitution, history, and arcane rolls. They have darkvision and can´t get sick, they are also immune to the spell sickness unless it´s a powerful Ainur who cast it.Cons: A lot of other races can be hostile against them, they are also hostile to each other, and a lot of the time won't want to make alliances. Elvers are also all stubborn, and usually convinced they are the only ones who are right. All Elvers take a quarter more damage in psychic attacks than other races.

#tolkien #jrr tolkien #silmarillion #vanyar #noldor #teleri #falmari #sindar #nandor #silvan #avari #moriquendi #silmarillion d&d

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 1 year ago

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Lord and Master

Pairing: Manwë x Fem. Reader (Elf |Third Person POV)

Themes: Medieval! Ainur | Angst | Dark

Wordcount : 3.4K words

Summary: Manwë finally agrees to marry, but is angry because his ability to control his life is being stripped from him. Finally, on his wedding night, the chance to take back some of that control presents itself to him.

Rating: 🔥🔥 | Minors DNI | 18+

Rules and tag form here.

A/n: This is my first foray into dark/dub-con, so I apologize if there are any mess-ups in the story.

The wedding passed like an ugly dream. Manwë did all that was required of him, biting the inside of his cheek the entire time.

When word of his trysts with Námo made its way into the light, ladies refused him one by one. Varda was the first to rescind her offer of marriage. She had declared she did not think highly of a prince who threw the one he loved to the dirt and walked away like it all meant nothing to him. And where she went, the rest followed: Vána and Yavanna agreed with their lady’s choice, as did Arien and Ilmarë. Even the dutiful ones like Uinen, Lëa, and Melian refused the prince’s proposal with a courteous chorus of "Thank you kindly, your grace," followed by "But no." Nienna would never accept a proposal, and Meássë simply laughed in the messenger’s face when he showed her the king's letter. The king had purpled and raged for days when he heard.

Manwë turned to his bride, a wave of deep-seated anger and resentment surging through his veins. Lady y/n was not his choice for a wife. After Meássë refused, Eru finally had to stoop so low as to ask a minor lordling for his daughter’s hand in marriage. That stung as well.

He glanced at his wife again. She was well-bred and well-mannered, so the others said. Y/n loved singing, sewing, and reading, but she was not what the crown prince wanted in a companion. She was too quiet and docile. She certainly was not Námo, yet he must wed her and secure the line of succession. That was his father’s order and the council's.

"Wed her, bed her, and put a child in her," the king commanded once the offer of marriage had been accepted. "You are capable of this, yes?”

Manwë had clenched his fists so hard they turned white at the knuckles. "You command I wed someone I do not desire," he spat, "Yet you heartily agree to your Lord Commander's wedding and bedding a lowly serving girl. How do you justify it, your grace?"

His father’s icy glare pinned him to the chair he sat in. It made Manwë feel so small. "Our Lord Commander is not my son. He will never wear the crown. And Eönwë commands the near-fanatical loyalty of our army. He even saved your life once. Do you not remember? How he fought your brother and bled in your name?"

Manwë flinched when reminded. "Father...”

"Keeping a warrior like our Lord Commander happy is in this realm's best interests." Eru interrupted him and picked up his quill and a piece of parchment. The sight made Manwë feel like he was in a ship already listing dangerously to one side. "And yours. That is how I justify it. But if you wish to refuse this marriage," Eru said while dipping the quill in new ink. "You need only say the word, and I will marry the lady instead.”

And if I refuse, Valinor will learn my lord father has yet another son who flees his duty, the prince thought bitterly. Oh yes, I can hear it now. Poor king Eru, plagued with selfish, disobedient sons who care for nothing but themselves.

Manwë did not want others to see him as no better than Melkor, but he wished for the days when his brother was heir and life was a carefree dream, where he was master of his destiny and lived how he pleased. Now, with every word and every stroke of his father's quill, he felt his sense of control being stripped from him, sliver by painful sliver. Each day he felt a little smaller and a little weaker. He started to feel more like a boy desperate for approval and nothing like the man he wanted to be.

Forever bowing my head to the will of someone else. Father, the council, the crown. Is that what I am? Someone who readily acquiesces? Someone helpless and weak?

Someone coughed. It was the priest. The time had come to exchange vows. The bride and groom turned to face each other, one with eyes full of hope and the other wishing to see nothing before them.

"One heart," they repeated in unison, "One soul, One flesh. Bound in word, body, and spirit, from this day until the end of all days."

Y/n looked at her new husband through her veil, thinking how comely he looked in his rich black velvet doublet, and his silver hair falling down to his shoulders in beautiful waves. She hoped to find blushing cheeks, bright eyes, and a shy smile. All she found was darkness in his deep blue eyes and anger in his clenched jaws. It was a warning, a sign of dark things that may come to pass. There was great danger here, but she shrugged the growing sense of foreboding away and still gave him her hand, shivering when he slipped a thin gold band onto her finger. There was nothing else she could do. The contract had been signed, and the vows had been said. For good or ill, she was his now, and her duty as a wife was to obey her husband. That was what she was taught.

"With this ring," Manwë declared to all present, his words clearly forced. "I pledge my love!"

His bride did the same. Y/n’s words were sweeter, and filled with tender hope. Her lord father came forward and lifted her veil. Manwë ground his teeth and did his duty, leaning in and kissing her chastely before swiftly pulling away. He accepted the necklace his father presented him in a beautifully carved box and draped it around his bride's throat. Y/n was overcome with the shivers. Her new jewels felt like a noose. She took deep breaths to compose herself and clung to the hope that the prince was as kind and courteous as the songs said he was and that love would bloom between them over time.

"What the Gods have brought together," came the priest's cry, "let no one tear asunder!"

The crowd clapped and cheered in approval when the crown prince and princess turned to face them. Manwë dutifully offered his arm, but y/n felt his stiffness as they walked down the aisle together. The chapel was aglow with the light of a thousand candles. A riot of color bled from the stained glass windows onto the floor. Those standing in the upper walkways threw rose petals onto the couple while they walked beneath them. Swirls of red and white rained down on y/n and Manwë even as the doors to the outside world opened. Crowds gathered outside Taniquetil’s great chapel cheered even louder than those inside. Y/n raised her arm and waved to them, thinking her heart would burst with joy. She turned to face her husband, her joy soon wilting like a flower under the scorching heat of the sun. When Manwë turned to her, his eyes filled with something akin to hate.

“Come, wife," he said stiffly. "It is time we took ourselves to the feast."

An hour later, they were walking into the great hall for the feast. Y/n tried to talk with her husband during the carriage ride to Ilmarin to engage his attention. Manwë would look at her with little interest before turning away. His cool indifference stung, but y/n chose to be patient. She thought he was grieving the loss of his first love. This will pass soon enough, she thought. Someday she would be rewarded. She was certain of it.

The feast was a splendid affair. Eru had spared no expense. Minstrels strolled between tables, singing and fluting and strumming lyres. Fire dancers walked on stilts, juggling flaming batons in their hands. Guests dined on thick mushroom soup and salads of beans, onions, spinach, and beets. There was roasted boar and roasted quail and squab, and pears soaked in red wine. There were flagons of mead and flagons of ale, glass pitchers of iced summer wine, and the finest hippocras money could buy. Many broke into loud applause when servants walked into the hall carrying a great swan pie between them. The dish was reserved only for royalty. On this day, it would be served to everyone. Seated at the high table on an ornate chair under a richly embroidered canopy, y/n had little appetite for her food, fine as it all was. Her stomach would tie itself into unpleasant knots whenever she glanced at her husband.

Manwë's mood had darkened even more. Irmo of House Blackgrave was seated with the other high lords and ladies, but Námo was nowhere to be seen. He had been ill since Manwë sent him away. A common illness, so the messenger said, one that would go away under the tender care of his sister. The prince knew differently. Námo was sick because of him.

It should be me tending to him, and not Nienna.

He could not tend to Námo now. The chance to do so disappeared when Manwë put his name on parchment and agreed to take y/n for a wife. With each stroke and flourish of the quill, he felt his sense of control slip away even more, making him feel helpless and angry.

Weak. Helpless. Forever bowing to the will of others. This cannot continue.

He heard gentle laughter. It was the Lord Commander's wife. She was wide-eyed while she watched a troupe of tumblers perform incredibly daring feats. Her doting husband kept her in his lap, not caring a whit for what other people thought. Eönwë was content to feed her morsels from his own plate before stealing unexpected kisses, his arm tightening around her waist in a protective gesture when she leaned in and cupped his face. He would listen indulgently whenever she said something, beaming like a man who knew his love was well returned. The sight filled Manwë with despair. He wished to hold Námo the same way, feed him the same way, and drown in his laughter. He turned to face his wife. She was playing with her food. Anger seared through his veins again.

"Does the meal not please you?" he asked in rough, clipped tones.

Y/n was startled. It was the first time the prince had asked anything of her since their first meeting half a year ago.

"It is excellent, your highness," she replied meekly. "But I fear my appetite cannot do it justice."

Your highness. The way she said it, all soft and submissive. Manwë gave her a measured look.

Small. Meek. And bound by oath to obey me. The thoughts came swiftly and unbidden. Manwë ignored such thoughts and looked away just as a herald called the guests to dance. His wife placed her hand over his.

"Shall we dance, your highness?" she asked hopefully.

Manwë’s mouth twisting into an ugly sneer was all the answer y/n needed. He did not want to dance, eat, or join in the merrymaking. He wanted this night over and done with.

There is only one thing left to do, he decided, and rose. The music slowly died when he stood to his full height. Everyone's attention turned to him.

"I confess, my lords and ladies, as much as I would love to dance," he declared with a forced smile, "I have more... pressing matters to tend to with my lady wife. Come, my lady. It is time we did our duty."

The others laughed. Y/n forced herself to smile. When her husband offered his arm, she rose and took it, turning a deaf ear to the ribald jests shouted their way. She let Manwë lead her through lofty halls and cool corridors, all while her stomach was a roil.

She had been prepared for her bedding, but the way Manwë looked at her, his eyes ablaze with cold fury, frightened her. She looked straight ahead, clinging to the hope that her fears were unfounded and the prince would surprise her with tender words and gentle embraces.

That was not to be. When the couple entered an airy bedchamber and the doors closed behind them, Manwë pulled away from her. He walked over to a side table and helped himself to a cup of wine.

Manwë studied her critically. Quiet. Dutiful. Perhaps this can work.

"You must now obey me in all things, yes?"

“I am your wife, your highness. I must obey."

Small. Meek. Bound by oath to obey me. This time, he did not push the thought away. Y/n was bound by oath to obey him. Whatever he asked of her, she had to do it without protest. The knowledge of it was too much for him to resist.

It is time I regained some control over my life. I will not bow my head to yet another.

"Undress yourself," Manwë commanded. He walked to the bed, his new boots clicking over the stone floor.

Y/n blushed furiously. She dreamed of her husband undressing her, giggling while he fumbled with the clasps and lacings in her dress. She did not expect him to order her to undress herself in front of him.

"Undress yourself," Manwë urged, his words like honey. "Come now. You are a true and obedient wife, yes?"

Y/n wrung her hands. "I... I wish to be, your highness."

Manwë lifted his cup and drank deeply, draining it to the last drop. "Then prove to me you are a true and obedient wife. Undress."

Y/n flushed. She was his wife. She pledged herself to him. Swore to obey him in all things. And obey him she did. She first undid her braids, removing the pins and clips, her fingers fumbling at her hair like they were all broken thumbs. Manwë was content to watch. Seeing her hair fall free in loose strands did something to him. Watching her comply with his command did something to him. Whatever it was, he soon grew drunk on it.

"You are still dressed, my lady," he observed. "Your gown… it is beautiful to be sure, but it is too much. Unburden yourself. But leave the necklace; I like it."

Y/n flushed again. This time in humiliation. "Your highness, I... should I be doing this?"

"Yes, sweet wife," Manwë replied, enjoying himself thoroughly. "It is only proper that you do so."

His wife managed somehow, her cheeks aflame the entire time. Her heavy gown and sash slowly slipped off her shoulders and pooled around her feet. Her stays and slip followed. When she finally stepped out of the wisps that passed for smallclothes, Manwë put his cup on the ground and stood up, surprised to find himself already hard.

There were gooseprickles all over y/n's exposed skin. Her eyes were fixed on the floor. Manwë circled her once, then twice, like a predator circling his prey. He let his hand glide up her spine and play with her hair. She shivered when he palmed the soft expanse of her breasts. Manwë felt her tremble. He liked it. It made him feel powerful, for the first time in many moons.

"Undress me," Manwë ordered, slipping out of his boots.

Y/n kept her eyes on the clasps on his tunic. She fumbled again, her fingers turning back into broken thumbs. Manwë smirked and kept still.

Her hands were soft and warm when they brushed against his flesh. She was unsure of herself and hesitant, but she did her work dutifully and quickly. Once freed of his doublet and undershirt, Manwë returned to the bed and stood by the edge.

"Come, wife," he said, holding out his hand. "Come here."

His wife took one hesitant step after another, uncertain of what he wanted. Y/n had not been taught much concerning matters of the flesh. Her mother had told her to expect certain things, like discomfort and pain, but she also said such things would go away and the rest would be nothing but magic. Y/n studied her husband. There was hunger in his eyes, and flashes of something far more sinister. She feared there would be no magic this night. Not for her at any rate.

"Closer," Manwë cooed. "Closer. Good. Now. On your knees."

Y/n looked at him, shocked. "Your highness... I... I do not understand."

Manwë grinned wolfishly. "Get on your knees and undo my belt. Go on. You would do it if you really wanted to be a dutiful wife, yes?"

Y/n licked her lips. Of course, she wanted to be a dutiful wife. From the first moment she saw Manwë all she had ever wanted was to be a good wife and earn his love. She nodded and sank to her knees, grateful for the rug beneath her. She undid the clasp of his belt, then the drawstrings on his breeches. Her cheeks heated when Manwë tugged them down just enough to free his cock.

"Open your mouth," he said, and caressed her cheek. He ran his thumb across her lips, imagining what they would look like, swollen and glistening with the remnants of his spend. "Go on."

Y/n looked up at him, thinking she had heard wrong. Manwë caressed her cheek again, almost in affection. "Open your mouth. You do not want to disappoint me, do you?"

"No," she sputtered. It was a strange feeling, having his cock slip past her parted lips and sink further and further into her mouth. She felt him, thick and salty and heavy on her tongue. Y/n glanced up at him, surprised to find his eyes closed and his head thrown back.

"Loosen your jaw," he hissed, and wrapped his hands around her hair, pulling it out of the way. "There. Like that."

Manwë's mind soon grew hazy with bliss. Gods, her mouth feels so good. His grunts grew louder and louder. There was nothing else—no whispered endearments—that would soothe his wife and inflame her passions. Manwë did not care. He simply wanted to regain some control. And it felt so good, to take back what control he had over his life.

I am in control.

Y/n did not know what else to do. She let him thrust into her mouth, her eyes stinging with confused tears. Manwë wiped the tear away with his thumb and brought it to his lips, as if to taste. He shivered when he tasted the saltiness of her tear on the tip of his tongue, and shivered when he felt the warmth of her mouth and the softness of her sinful lips. He wanted to kiss those lips while he claimed her maidenhead, but not now. He was so close that he could already feel a tightness in his belly. He brushed his hands over her hair and groaned when her lips tightened around his cock. Just a little longer. He needed to hold on for a little longer. And that was all he had. The world went still. Manwë let out a deep moan while his body splintered and shook with ecstasy. Y/n could do nothing but grip his thighs while the warmth of his spend filled her mouth.

Manwë panted and drew back, satisfied for now. "Swallow," he insisted, not moving another inch until y/n had swallowed every last drop. He stood back and admired the sight of his wife on her knees before him, her lips glistening and swollen just like he hoped they would be. That sense of feeling powerful returned, this time stronger than before.

I am in control.

Manwë grabbed that feeling with eager hands, not wanting to let go of it.

I am lord and master.

He finally walked away, setting himself to rights and picking up the rest of his clothes as he did so. "I will sleep in here," he said, opening the door to a smaller bedroom. "Good night."

Y/n rose and turned to face her own bed. Her knees were sore, and her jaws hurt. She thought there would be more to this night. "But your highness, this is our wedding night. Should we be…"

"Do not fret," Manwë yawned contentedly. An hour or two of rest was needed, and then he would consummate their marriage. "I will claim your maidenhead and consummate this marriage. But it will be at a time of my choosing. Not yours. Never yours. Am I understood?"

Y/n opened her mouth in reply. She thought she deserved to have some say on how this night went. Manwë leaned against the door, his arms crossed, and his eyes darkening again. It frightened her, made her whisper, "Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, your highness."

"Good," Manwë muttered. "Never forget what I am, wife. Your lord and master, nothing less than that."

Y/n tried to blink back her tears when he slammed the door behind him. Her hopes slowly crumbled like brittle clay. There would be no love. No tenderness. Not with him, not after tonight. Manwë made it plain with his few words that she should not expect more from him. Suddenly more tired than ever, she crawled into bed and slipped beneath a soft pelt, waiting for him to come for her again.

The thought made her blood run cold.

tags: @cilil

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