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eri-pl · 10 months ago

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Silm reread 11: Men! And the Noldor again!

AKA the part where Fefe dies and Angrod is made by the narrative to look like a fool and Turgon needs a manual

So we apparently switch to another source or at least another editor, because it starts with "the Valar made the sun and stopped caring (except Ulmo) and the only thing protecting the land from Morgoth's rule was the courage of the Noldor". Which may be factual but doesn't sound like something we would get in the narration in one of the previous parts. Huh.

Ulmo tries to teach Men, Men are too dumb. :)

In the First Age Men and Elves do not differ in height or physical strength. Elves are more skilled and beautiful, and the Eldar are (taller? more powerful in another sense? translation unclear :( )

Elves do not die of diseases, but it seems like they may get sick, maybe. They do look like Men, but this will change as their spirits remodel their bodies. But Men are weaker (less buff?), die more easily (also from wounds etc), and heal less easily.

Earendil, Elwing and Elrond mentioned as having full effective-Elvenship, which confirms that all other half-elves (Dior, Nimloth, Dior's twins, also any hypothetical half-elves) do not. But unclear what this means.

Return of the Gnomes Noldor

Wait, does Fefe land his ships on the Morgoth-screamed-like-a-kid-because-spider Land? :D

Second Battle (First one was the Sindar), the Noldor are OP and awesome, light of Aman and what not. An army that has been besieging Cirdan is called back to attack them and Celegorm intercepts it and defeats it.

In ten days, Morgoth's army is reduced to almost zero.

Feanáro expects too see Morgoth just round the corner and chases the orcs laughing and congratulating himself on his courage and disregard of the Valar (it is in the text) and is very brave and strong, but mortally wounded anyway, by Gothmog himself.

Also: Balrogs > Ungoliant and SoF > Balrogs, which is pretty cool for the sons of Feanor. Ungoliant had fire vulnerability, but still, it does look cool.

Fefe dies looking at Thrangorodrim, because revenge > anything else, apparently. Realizes it is impossible for the Noldor to conquer it. And regardless he tells his sons to re-swear the Oath and to avange him. (Also, he curses Morgoth again, three times)

Sindar and Noldor have a language difference, and I've mentioned it with the Dwarves already, but Sindarin seems easy to learn.

The initial assumption (of the Sindar and Dark Elves) is that the Noldor came ordered by the Valar to help them.

Just as Fefe dies, an emissary comes to invite his sons to a parlay. Maedhros convinces his brothers to pretend to want to parlay. I totally forgot that part!!! It is his idea! And as we all know, both sides betray the agreement, but Morgoth side does it with more success. He ordered to capture Maedhros alive (I'm not sure what is the main reason for that).

The other 6 fortify and do not want further "negotiations", this sounds like it's all happening very fast, but then the timelines suggest it took years. Morgoth demands the Noldor get out, they do not because they know he won't let Mae go anyway. After it's clear the talking is over, Mae is hung at the cliff. Which suggests to me he hung there for most of his capture.

There's tension, Fingolfin thinks that all 8 burned the ships together, his host is numerous and angry. Doom of the Noldor starts acting and instead of cooperation, there are tensions. And the SoF are too ashamed of their treason to go talk with the newcomers openly. :(

Fingon and Maedhros are… it reads as they had more or less officially unfriended each other at some point in Valinor, because of all the stuff between their fathers. Fingolfin doesn't know Maedhros opposed the ship-burning. He thinks Maedhros sees him as an enemy or at elast a jerk. Still, he goes to save him. I love this.

The song-rescue!!!

Oh, the song-rescue. I am so insane about this trope. It's just so— I don't know how to even call it. Not only this one scene (or the other two), but this scheme in general, I do have a thing about it. Very much. But tbh it's one of the things where my love for it is in big part "non-canon, very niche connections I make about it". Same as with…. most things I like in the Silm, probably. Hmm.

Also, let's have a moment for Mae, seriously. The rescue scene is so … poor Mae. And it is not even the worst part of "fate awaited him with fell purpose" :(

Yea, Manwe still cares about the exiled Noldor no matter what Namo's intern said. :D (yes this is a hc, because I do not imagine Namo saying something that isn't literally true)

Mae survives only because he's supercharged after having spent a long time in Valinor. (I'll need a better mental model of how it works, but I'm pretty sure it's the same thing that made Luthien die faster on the Silmaril and makes mortals allegedly die faster in Valinor, it's just different for Elves. But I wouldn't be surprised if later the Eldar faded faster than the Dark Elves)

Meadhros apologizes for ship-burning and gives the crown to Fingolfin (I for some reason misremembered it as Fingon. Huh.)

Thingol is not entirely happy about guys wanting to establish their own kingdoms, does not open his borders to them (for this reason, I think) and does not open the Girdle (because Morgoth). This is probably still when he assumes that the Noldor were sent to Beleriand by the Valar. So, it is … not terrible, but probably not a fully nice behavior either. Especially including his friendship with Finwë. On the other hand, maybe Melian already does have a hunch that something shady is going on with the Noldor.

He invites Finarfin-s family, because their mom (Earwen) was Olwë's daughter??? I forgot that part. Oh. this must have been awkward.

Angrod talks with thingol and does not mention the kinslaying, Oath and all the jazz, because "he thought it was ok now"? Excuse me, narrative, what? I need this in English, I'm not sure what even it's saying exactly.

Fortunately, much text of the Silm is Googleable.

he spoke long with the King, telling him of the deeds of the Noldor in the north, and of their numbers, and of the ordering of their force; but being true, and wisehearted, and thinking all griefs now forgiven, he spoke no word concerning the kinslaying, nor of the manner of the exile of the Noldor and the oath of Fëanor.

It does not help. He thinks the grieves are forgiven by whom? The Valar? The Teleri? Iluvatar? (who was mentioned in the Oath, it turns out, just the Polish translation misses this).

Like, ok, Professor, I get that you want Angrod to not be a liar (because he's son of Finarfin and they're the good ones) but also Thingol to not know about the shady parts, but I don't think it works. It just makes Angrod look really stupid at best.

Thingol lats the Noldor settle in the free parts of the land, to protect the settlements of his subjects. Makes sense to me. Also reminds them that he's the king of Beleriand, which sounds rather too proud, but again, nothing more than being a bit of a jerk. The Feanorians are upset.

Maedhros calls him a fake king (affectionate) and Caranthir (who we are told is a jerk in general) gets angry and disses the Arafinweans. Maedhros puts him in his place (which is important to note, because it makes me assume he generally puts his brother in place, eg Celegorm after Luthien probably even if it's not said in the text)

Maedhros is cool, he is friends with cousins… ut he is oath-bound as we are ominously reminded.

Oh, so here it is about Caranthir and money. He disses Dwarves but as they both hate Morgoth, they decide to fight against him by… making Caranthir the sole sales representative of the Dwarves.

The feast of peace! We have M&M (no other brothers, maybe because they are less diplomatic), some Sindar, Cirdan&friends, less important Elves Green Elves, and from Doriath we get Mablung and Dearon.

So yes, Maglor and Daeron get to meet each other.

The Noldor are great at crafts and lore, but Maglor is the greatest minstrel among them. The Sindar wre great at music, but Daeron is the greatest scholar among them. Oh, the cultural exchange when they two get drunk and argue about what tuning is better invent modern music theory and what not. I don't care for the alliances and stuff, but give me a fic of those two just talking music theory and similar things.

Also, many oaths of firendship and alliance were made — I guess the idea of swearing oaths is not traumatic yet. Makes sense. We are early in the timeline, before lost battles and most mass murders.

Here we get the difference in language-learning between Noldor and Sindar.

Turgon and Finrod get visions from Ulmo, each one assumes he's the only one to get it. I like Silm more than LotR, and Silm characters more than LotR characters on average, but at least iirc Boromir and Faramir talked to each other. :D

Finrod visits Thingol, makes Nargothrond, the Dwarves help and in the published vevrsion there is no conflict at any point between them. Finrod gives them a lot of gems, the Dwarves give him Nauglamir, it's pretty and one-size-fits-all, and magically light.

Meanwhile, Galadriel gets married and becomes Melian's student.

Turgon is less effective at hidden-city-making than Finrod and Ulmo has to tell him what exactly to do. It's not really stupid or anything, but kind of funny and I will laugh at Turgon for needing a how-to. :)

Another won battle (third one). fingolfin says Morgoth will never be able to break the siege. Ironic how it is him to say that. Both because what happens later and because he's called "Wise Finwë".

Also, Morgoth does have some intel because he regularly captures some Eldar alive and asks them questions. So he isn't completely dumb yet. Years pass, we get baby Glaurung. It's like 400 years from coming of the Noldor? And still nobody told Thingol (and probably any other non-Elda) about the problematic parts. This is weird.

Here we get the comparision of Noldor and Sindar skills and preferences. Also, they do merge in some settlements into effectively one nation, speaking Sindarin.

Also, a note about the ban (which will come later): Sindarin was the common language at this point anyway, becase the Noldor learned it easily and the Sindar learned quanya with difficulty. So, Thingol's ban was more of a formality than a practical issue.

It was as if Thingol put a "I hate the kinslayers" decoration on his Facebook picture. This kind of gesture. At least that's how it seems to me from what I've already reread.

#silm reread #thingol #angrod #maedhros #fingon #fingolfin #earwen #finrod #galadriel #turgon #nargothrond #maglor #daeron #caranthir #eri reads the legendarium

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honeyfarts666 · 2 years ago

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An Ocean of Tears

A Sauron Redemption Fic

Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Animal Friends, Secret Child

Chapter 1: Prolog: A Begining Centuries in the Making Chapter 2: Odd Companions Chapter 3: A Young Adventurer Chapter 4: The Wanderer Child Chapter 5: A Procession of Elves

New! Chapter 6: A Great Adversary on Ao3 or under the cut ↓

Torture Before the Sublime a smutty "deleted scene" (Also I made a mood board for Halbrand’s Garden)

Story Excerpt:

Was it so hard to believe that he had been a prisoner of Morgoth too? He had gone willingly at first, but he became just as trapped as every other soul caught in his master’s snare. He had no grand desire for evil. In the youth of the world, he had craved adventure. His only crime was believing Morgoth. And following him. And doing his dark bidding for millennia. He hung his head as shame poured through him.

@coraleethroughthelookingglass @helenvader @restless-tides @rebelrebelwrites @ringsofpowerfans @starlady66 @veladelibrr @shia-the-buff

Halbrand was usually quite diligent in his work. For the past twelve years, he had risen at dawn and worked among the plants and trees until dusk. This new way of life was his penance and he never forgot that. But ever since Estion’s appearance, he had lost focus. He had spent more than one day, completely unmoved, staring at the wall of his cottage in silence.

It’s not like his walls were that boring. The rough, wooden timbers each had a unique shape and grain. Sometimes he could find unintended images in them. If he turned his head to the left, there was one that looked sort of like a dog. And if he looked at the foot of his bed, there was another that looked like a castle surrounded by an army. But it was the one above his head that captivated him the most. It looked like a woman with long hair. Her back was turned to him and he couldn’t see her face. But he didn’t need to.

With a soft meow, Teonwer lept onto his bed and sat on his chest, staring him down. He tried to ignore the cat at first. He rolled his head to the right, gazing at the hazy beams of light that strayed through his window, illuminating his few, simple belongings: a table with a wobbly leg, a set of eating utensils, a bowl, a wash rag, a stack of firewood, and an extra blanket for the cold winters. Dried herbs hung from the rafters and filled the whole place with a homely aroma.

Teonwer seemed intent on disturbing him and batted his paw over Halbrand’s jaw and mouth.

“What?” Halbrand asked with annoyance, propping his head up under one arm.

Teonwer meowed.

“I don’t feel like it,” he stated as he looked away, avoiding Teonwer’s stare.

Meow meow.

Halbrand heaved a sigh through his nose. Teonwer was right, as usual. But he was still annoyed with his feline friend. He sat up quickly, causing Teonwer to scamper back down to the floor.

Teonwer gave a small hiss before leaving Halbrand behind and walking out the door into the day.

With another heavy sigh, Halbrand rose and dressed. He slipped his feet into his worn boots and stretched his stiff limbs. He went without breakfast, he really didn’t need much food and, in his sorry state, he probably wouldn’t taste it anyway.

As he stepped through his door, he gazed up toward the heavens. It was already nearing midday, though the sun was hidden. He had much work to catch up on from his newfound laziness. He washed quickly, pulling his shirt over his head before kneeling down in front of his wash bucket. He splashed his face, shoulders, and chest with the cool water. It wasn’t much of a bath but it was better than nothing. As he wiped the droplets from his face, he heard a noise in the distance. Halbrand perked his ear, straining to hear what it might be but failing. Whatever it was, it was a long way off. Probably an elk with its antlers caught between two trees. But it was no matter of his.

He pulled his shirt back over his head. The fabric was growing desperately thin, even with his subtle magic willing the garment to stay woven together. It was a cool day, so he slipped his coat over his shoulders. There was no more avoiding his tasks. He grabbed a basket and set it down the garden path. Teonwer followed in such a way that he pretended to be about his own business.

Scattered among the flowers and tall grasses of the garden were more useful plants. Most of them produced vegetables but he also had strawberries growing across the creek. And, at the very end of the garden path, there were three apple trees. He knelt down in front of several, wilting plants. The formerly bright, green leaves had begun turning brittle.

He dug his hands into the earth, reaching under the soil. After a moment of feeling blindly through the dirt, his fingers found what he searched for. He yanked and pulled a potato up from the soil. He brushed away the dirt and set it in his basket. He dug his hands back into the earth and searched for more. In the distance, there was a faint cry. It was the same noise as before, though he could hear it a bit more clearly. Whatever it was, he wished it would go away and die elsewhere.

He had plenty of time to think while he worked. Though part of him believed he had been thinking too much lately. Of course, his thoughts were always of Estion and Galadriel. And of the beautiful family that could have been his. Sometimes he felt anger. Anger for Galadriel and the horrible secret she had kept from him. Had she known? Had she been aware of their child even as she rejected him? It was possible but he couldn’t be certain. He knew little of such womanly matters. But those moments were rare. The fire that fueled his rage for centuries had long burned out. Mostly he was forlorn, lost in a haze of regret and could-have-beens. And he knew where the blame lay.

He imagined what Estion must have looked like as a babe and as a toddler. But he would never know. It was too late. He would never see Estion take his first steps. Nor teach him any craft. Nor even hold him close while he cried. He was a stranger to his own son. It was his personal doom, to forever be severed from all hope and light. Tears began to prick the corners of his eyes and he willed himself to turn his thoughts to other matters. The potatoes were healthy. That was a small blessing. Proof that Eru had not cursed him in every matter.

The magic he used in gardening was not the same magic he used in his smithcraft. It was gentler and more subtle. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it at first. Even without his awareness, power flowed down his arm and fingers and into the earth to be absorbed by hungry roots. He wasn’t sure when he started, but somewhere in those twelve years, he began to sing while he worked. He hummed his song and the potatoes loosened more readily. He didn’t consider himself to be a musical person. But he still knew the ancient melodies from before the dawning of the world. And from which all things green and good had sprung. The trees of the forest certainly remembered the old songs. Their roots grew deeper and the branches swayed further as they drank them in like pure water. And the young, green leaves in his garden had listened well too. Each year, growing taller and blooming fuller than any other plant in the shade of the old forest.

Halbrand caught movement from the corner of his eye and looked up. Teonwer lept onto a nearby boulder and meowed intently.

Halbrand nearly scoffed at the cat. He had never seen the creature so serious before. He shook his head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Teonwer yowled loudly once and meowed softly twice.

Halbrand furrowed his brow, “A what?”

Teonwer repeated himself.

Halbrand huffed. He was certain Teonwer was referencing whatever had made that noise. But he couldn’t for the life of him understand the cat. “I don’t know what that means,” he tried to reason, “What’s out there?”

Teonwer gave a final, exasperated meow as he turned off the path and into the depths of the forest.

Halbrand rolled his eyes before he pulled himself to his feet and followed after the cat. Whatever the situation was, Teonwer was taking it very seriously. Perhaps another feline beast was in trouble and Teonwer was honor bound by some code of brotherhood to all cats. Halbrand really wouldn’t have been surprised. Cats were unusually organized when they wanted to be. They might have made valuable allies in a battle. He shook his head. He had no use for those sorts of thoughts anymore.

Halbrand’s assumptions proved to be entirely wrong and he was wholly unprepared for what Teonwer led him to. After nearly half an hour’s walk, Halbrand heard the great cry again. But this time, it was much, much closer. He still had no idea what it was, but it certainly wasn’t a cat. The cry was more of a screech.

Teonwer led him through a grove of close trees and over several large boulders. When Halbrand reached the top and saw what lay on the other side, he nearly fell back down the side of the rock. There, between two ancient cedars, was an eagle. But not just any eagle, a Great Eagle, a servant of Manwë himself.

Halbrand swallowed hard. Teonwer let out a loud meow and lept down from the rock toward the eagle.

The eagle whipped its head around and suddenly the beast had its gaze fixed upon Halbrand. The eagle let out a terrible scratch. Halbrand covered his ears with his hands wincing at the noise. He did note that the eagle hardley moved. Its left wing stayed tucked carefully against its side.

Teonwer looked up at him from the ground below and let out a yowl of his own.

Halbrand glared at the cat, “That thing will never let me go anywhere near it!”

Meow. Meow.

Halbrand huffed, “It knows who I am! And if it doesn’t, it will certainly figure it out!”

“I,” the eagle replied, “can speak the tongues of elves and men and I know who you are.”

Halbrand swallowed hard again. Of course! He was just stupid enough to forget. All Manwë’s servants were gifted with speech though Manwë was more than capable of understanding them in their own tongue. Manwë was far too fair to converse with a low being in that primitive way. Halbrand pulled himself over the rock and dropped to the ground next to Teonwer. He slowly lifted his hands in a sign of peace.

“What brings you to these lands, servant of Manwë?” He asked cautiously.

The eagle ruffled its feathers, “That is no concern of yours!”

Halbrand dared to take his eyes from the eagle’s high face and take a closer look at his injured wing. And he spotted it! A bright arrow was shot between the bones of his second arm. Blood oozed from the wound and dripped down his long feathers. He glanced at Teonwer who gazed up at him expectantly.

Halbrand took a deep breath and pointed to the arrow, “It seems you have an injury. Are you able to fly, friend?”

The eagle raised its head to the heavens and shrieked. Halbrand again covered his ears. As he did, the eagle ceased his noise-making and got his face within a foot of Halbrand’s. “You are no friend of mine, deceiver!”

Halbrand stayed frozen in place as the eagle receded. He slowly lifted his hands from his ears. He took a calculating breath and said, “If I wished you dead, you would already be so.”

The eagle whipped around to glare at him again but Halbrand put up both of his forefingers for patience. “You know it is true. In equal health, we are a fair fight. But in this state,” he gestured to the arrow again, “I would have no difficulty killing you.”

The eagle bristled but remained silent for a long moment. Eventually, he spoke, “What is it that you want, servant of Morgoth?”

Halbrand bit his lip and steadied his breath, “I no longer serve Morgoth. I have not for many years.”

“Yet, you do not seek pardon from my master,” the eagle pointed out, “Since you have not done this, I must assume you mean to take your former master’s place as the dark lord.”

“That is not true!” Halbrand snapped.

“Deceiver!” the eagle spat back at him.

Halbrand huffed and threw out his arms, “Does it look like I’m amassing an army?”

The eagle stopped suddenly and regarded him as if for the first time.

He continued without waiting for any response, “I assume, your task has been to search for me. You thought you would find me in the Land of Ash. And you blamed the darkness of the clouds for your inability to find me.”

The eagle snarled.

Halbrand went on, “But the reason you could not find me is because I am not there.” He gestured to the forest, “I have been here. Trying to forget.”

The eagle raised his head thoughtfully and asked, “Why have you come to aid me?”

Halbrand couldn’t help the soft smile that cracked across his face as he glanced at Teonwer, “My friend asked me to.”

Then, Teonwer looked up to the eagle and meowed softly several times. The recommendation Teonwer gave to the eagle is literally untranslatable, as are most cat words. But an approximate translation would be, “He is your adversary but he is also my great friend.”

Halbrand’s heart shuddered as he heard the kind, gentle way Teonwer spoke of him. And a single tear rolled down his cheek.

Teonwer rubbed against Halbrand’s leg and purred. Halbrand knelt down and affectionately scratched behind the cat’s ears. When Halbrand pulled his hand away, Teonwer lept onto his shoulder and sat there. Halbrand rose up to his full height to face the eagle’s judgment. But it felt good not to face the messenger of Manwë alone.

The eagle nodded solemnly and said, “I will accept your assistance.”

It took Halbrand an hour to return with supplies. And then another to remove the arrow and clean the wound. The Great Eagle was stoic the whole while, never complaining and hardly making a sound. Teonwer, on the other hand, would not cease with his unsolicited advice.

“I’m not going to lick it!” Halbrand insisted as he filled the wound with a salve of chamomile and garlic.

Teonwer turned up his nose at him in a show of superiority.

The Great Eagle made a clucking noise. Halbrand stopped in his tracks. He looked at the Eagle’s face to see if it was in pain. But the bird seemed to be amused. And then, he realized the bird was laughing.

“Teonwer often makes suggestions as if I too were a cat,” Halbrand remarked.

“Felines cannot fathom a way of life that is not their own,” the Eagle commented, “But they are always willing to help a friend.”

Halbrand quirked an eyebrow, “How did you two become friends?”

Teonwer chimed in with two meows and Halbrand raised his eyebrow again.

“It is true,” the Eagle confirmed, “There was an ancient oath between the Great Eagles and many of the beasts of the earth. Most have forgotten it. But not the cats. Their memories are long and their honor is great.”

Halbrand smirked, remembering his original thought that Teonwer was bound by a feline brotherhood. He wasn’t too far off. “What else have you neglected to tell me, old friend?” he asked the cat at his feet.

Teonwer gave him an annoyed mew and marched off into the underbrush.

Halbrand smirked again as he pasted another layer of salve over the wound. And the Eagle laughed again in his strange way. “The two of you make good companions,” he told Halbrand, “You have similar temperaments.”

“You compare me to a cat?” Halbrand asked with his usual smirk.

“Would you prefer something else?” The Eagle asked.

Halbrand shook his head, “No. I don’t mind. And Teonwer is one of the smartest beings I have ever known.” The Eagle quirked his head so Halbrand continued, “He keeps his wits about him. He can fend for himself. He is an efficient hunter. But what he does most, is nap.”

The Eagle laughed again but longer and harder than before. After a moment, he regained his composure and said, “Forgive me! But it is difficult to imagine the Great Deceiver taking a nap.”

Halbrand glanced away and he muttered, “I have been doing little else of late.”

The Eagle cocked his head as he examined him. Halbrand continued to work, ignoring the lingering stare from his former enemy. “I sense a great sorrow within you,” the Eagle said.

Halbrand nodded slowly, “Your eyes are keen.” He finished his work and stepped away. “There,” he said with fake cheerfulness, “It should only be a few days before you can fly again.”

The Eagle tested his wing, flexing the muscles slowly. “I thank you for your help, Mairon.”

Halbrand sucked in a sharp breath. He had not been called that in more than an age. “That name does not belong to me anymore.”

The Eagle cocked his head from side to side, examining him, “Perhaps, if you were to return to Valinor, you would find that it does.”

Halbrand shook his head, “I will not speak ill of your master, but he has no love for me. There is no future for me in Valinor.”

The Eagle clucked, “Then what shall I call you?”

“Halbrand is the name I have used in recent years,” he replied.

It was a humble name and the Eagle seemed to approve. “Halbrand,” the Eagle turned the name over in his mouth. “I am Gwaihir,” the Eagle announced.

Halbrand’s eyes widened in astonishment. “I have heard of you,” he replied as cooly as he could manage, “and your great feats.”

Gwaihir ruffled his feathers, “Still think you can best me in a fight?”

Halbrand smirked, “I wouldn’t like to try.”

#sauron #rop #rop fic #sauron fic #trop #trop fic #rings of power #sauron fanfic #saurondriel fanfic #saurondriel #haladriel #angst #redemption au #secret child #myfic #an ocean of tears #mymoodboard

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marchwardenofmordor · 7 months ago

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✨Let's talk about OCs!✨How would you describe your OC's personality/aesthetic? What's your favourite thing about them? Tell us a fun fact(s) about your OC or their creation!

❤️Send this to at least 3 people to spread some OC appreciation!❤️

Oh god. Ok. I have a lot of OCs.

LOTR/Silmarillion

Marchwarden: crusader on crack. Zealous worship of Sauron. He’s been alienated by people for his entire life, so has taken that and ran with it, fully leaning into being unsettling, violent and downright offputting. He revels in all things grotesque and horrid, and is particularly enamoured with Sauron because he is the perfect example of how the most wretched things can be beautiful, and how the most beautiful things can be downright disgusting. He tends to be very military and stoic, horrifyingly efficient, with an unhinged streak. He has the potential to be good, if someone would only show him what it feels like to be loved. He’s peactically saturated with masochism, and takes joy in torturing both himself and others. My favourite thing about him, honestly, though, is how, all the horrors aside, he doesn’t just fuck Sauron - he makes love to him. He worships that brat.

Aldros: Feral. Completely feral. Has been brought up to believe that Sauron is his mother and that he is some sort of antichrist, but he longs for freedom and to actually use that free will Sauron keeps telling him about. Funniest part? Sauron tearing his hair out because Aldros uses that free will to do nice things for nice people. He’s aloof and mostly nonverbal, hates confrontation, cares deeply about his dragons and other animals, and has a strange ‘I’ll watch you and admire from a distance’ situationship with Thranduil.

Anlanchon: fave thing about him? His name is a title and means “the very naked one”, and not just in the metaphorical sense in that he is brutally honest and rarely hides anything, but in the literal sense in that the dude is cock-out, in the buff, fucking starkers 90% of the time. This sindar absolutely HATES clothing because he believes it defies the natural order of things and he will not permit his body to be restricted by anything other than his own skin. He’s from Doriath and was there for the Second Kinslaying. The rumour is that he’s actually one of Dior’s lost sons (either Eluréd or Elurín), but if that’s the case, then the other brother was never found, and whatever happened to him is the sort of info you’d have to pry from Anlanchon’s cold dead hands. He’s a boujee blonde with a peculiar eye colour for an elf: red so dark it appears brown. But this is because he was snatched by Thuringwethil to Tol-Sirion (Tol-in-Gaurhoth) after she took a shine to him. The third kinslaying was a fucking mess, and he did his best to fuck up as many feanorians as he could by night, but not enough to save Elwing, or prevent Maedhros and Maglor from seizing Elrond and Elros. He’s truly morally grey. Not on the side of Elves and not on the side of Morgoth, either, because he fucking hates them all. Grumpy naked vampire.

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mai-komagata · 1 month ago

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I don't know exactly bc living in a foreign country before the year 2000 it was VERY difficult for me to get the HoME books. So it might have been different for other people. I only had up to Lays of Beleriand and i had to import that.

But I did use the internet A LOT. I wasn't on the tolkien fandom pre-internet, but def pre-modern internet.

I think there was some notion of "tiered canonicity", where we considered the Silm an actual finished story, while the rest were more works in progress/alternate versions? Maybe I'm wrong, that is just how i thought of it. Also the idea of canon was sorta different back then, in many senses... The sort of blurring of "this is a story with many versions/incarnations, and this is what tolkien might have intended" to "there is a "real" middle earth we are uncovering by reading these texts" was still a nebulous concept -- once the movie fandom came in that became a lot more of general perception of canon, I think.

I feel like when people discussed theories in forums (e.g. who is tom bombadil was a topic i loved to talk about), if someone had read all the books or had access to them, they would post excerpts for other people to read. But it wasn't assumed everyone or even most people had read or had access to all of HoME (I mean, 25 years later the only extra book i have read past book 3 was Morgoth's Ring).

Anyway, Take all this with a huge grain of salt, this was a long time ago when i was in high school -- the internet existed but a lot of the fandom was still through official fanclubs in the UK and US which I didn't have access to. So it was just what forums i could access with a healthy dose of "stranger danger" lol. Also like the things i was interested, like maps and art and learning elvish, i would buy third party books for that, not really the HoME books. I was much more of a Lord of the Rings fan than a Silm fan, too. I liked Luthien's story and The Narn i Hin Hurin and the Akallabeth but even then, I would rather reread LotR for the 20th time.... The whole fandom changed dramatically once the movies came out, too. I was a lot more active once it was a lot more Behind the scenes stuff and movie production content... I was a film buff/cosplay fan so that stuff interested me a lot more after a while.

sorry this is all stream of consciousness. :D.

Silmarillion/Tolkien fandom question for those of you out there that have been in the fandom since before the early 2000s:

How quickly would you say that you saw the fandom integrate the information from HoME into its understanding of the Silmarillion or the Legendarium more broadly? I know that HoME was published over several years, and I'm very curious about how that impacted the Tolkien fandom at that time. Obviously, with some of that time being in the pre-internet era, how fans interacted with each other would have been somewhat different, but I'm still curious if anyone noticed any major shifts in the way fandom discussed certain aspects of the text.

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melkors-big-tits · 3 years ago

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Melkor telling y’all to stay away from his stuff

Especially Mairon, the snooping little darling

Art by me

#traditionalart #melkor #morgoth #silmarillion #tolkien #angbang #the silmarillion #silmaril #buff guy #husband

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theoppositeofprofound · 4 years ago

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Morwen and Húrin both think that when the other one is around they’re no longer the biggest bitch in the room (disappointed and proud) but they’re wrong. Their powers actually grow in proximity! It’s for the good of the narrative that they’re separated for most of their screen time, too much disdain can derail an emotional arc. Just trust me, they were so mean to people together.

#they also get a huge buff whenever they’re around Morgoth or his forces #but that’s a given #just natural self-defense #similar to how a toad may secrete more poison in the presence of a predator

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eri-pl · 9 months ago

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Silm reread interlude 3: Lay of Leithian canto 6-7

TW: a vividly, suggestively but not explicitely described wolvish violence quoted at the end. Some Sauron-typical levels of wicked but I don't quote the worst of it.

Canto 6

We get another recap, about the Darkening. A description of Feanor's speech: "But all he said both wild and wise, half truth and half the fruit of lies that Morgoth sowed in Valinor". …so, for all that go buy listen to another tale, we are told.

Also, the Oath, in the version when only the sons swear it (and it sounds like they do it in Balariand?): "There their hands they joined in vows, those kinsmen seven, swearing beneath the stars of Heaven, by Varda the Holy […] Who calls these names in witness may not break his oath, though earth and heaven shake". The other names mentioned are the mountain, and maaybe Manwë?

Also, the oath is unbreakable. Huh. We are in a more ancient type of a tragedy, I guess. Well, we are in a fairy tale, but the Feanorians are in an ancient type of tragedy. (However, to be honest, the published Silmarilion too has this sentence with not much change.)

We get a list of them (A&A have different names): "…and Maidros tall (whom after tornment should befall) and Maglor the Mighty" So: Maglor is mighty, unclear if just in song, or he was buff. like him being buff. Also, is there even a single version of this list where Maedhros doesn't get his gloomy foreshadowing?

"Be he friend or foe, or seed defiled of Morgoth Bauglir, or mortal child that in the after days on earth shall dwell, no law, nor love, nor league of hell, not might of Gods, not moveless fate shall him defend from wrath and hate of Feanor's sons, who takes or steals, or finding keeps the Silmarils, the trice-enchanted globes of light that shine until the final night."

OK, so:

It seems like we are still in the Legendarium where Morgoth can create life. Or maybe it's more of a metaphor?

"no law, nor love, nor league of hell, not might of Gods, not moveless fate" sounds so chilling!!! (and is complete wishful thinking bs)

normal verbs, no lisp!

as has been said already, no mention of murder. But they do swear wrath and hate so it's not an improvement, it only makes the Oath easier to not break.

"The wars and wanderings of the Gnomes this tale tells not", says the tale among explaining to us the wars and wandering of the Noldor Gnomes for about 3 pages.

Fingon's banners are white in this version, not blue.

Beren goes to Nargothrond, as in the Silm periodically shouting that he is not a spy.

Either Tolkien really loves the adjective "everlasting" or… huh. anyway: "the everlasting fire of those enchanted jewels all know is cursed with an oath of endless woe, and Feanor's sons alone by right are lords and masters of their light. He [Thingol] cannot hope within his hoard to keep this gem"

And, moving on from the "everlasting", in this version the Oath of Feanor is widely known and Finrod assumes that Thingol knows enough to expect that the Feanorians would attack him. Huh. This does not mean that it is so in the canon, and I still claim that Thingol not knowing makes more sense.

Also, Finrod acknowledges that the Silmarils belong and answer to the Feanorians. Huh. What a mess.

But to each their due: @dfwbwfbbwfbwf you may like this part.

The rest goes more or less as in the Silm. Also, Celegorm has gleaming hair, so yes, blond Celegorm very likely. We get another repeat of the oath, with some variation (in red): "Be he friend or foe, or demon wild of Morgoth, or mortal child, or any that here on earth may dwell, no law, nor love, nor league of hell, not might of Gods, no binding spell shall him defend from hatered fell of Feanor's sons, whoso take or steal, or finding keep a Silmaril. Those we alone do claim by right, out thrice-enchanted jewels bright."

So, the differences:

"seed defiled" to "demon wild" — may be a difference of personality. Celegorm may not care about defilement at thisn point. May be just "sounds better".

"shall dwell" → "may dwell" — this is an important one! The Oath mentioned Men who were said to appear, but Celegorm rewords it to cover everyone who lives on earth (Dwarves, and generally stuff like Ents and so, who were not mentioned in the original Oath, because the feanorians didn't know they exist / will exist), changing the words to match the intent in light of current knowledge about the existing races.

"moveless fate" → "binding spell" Huh. this is a funny one. An "accident" on Celegorm's part? It was fate that brought Beren there, after all.

"wrath and hate" → "hatered fell" — May be poetry, may be just Celegorm preferring a cold, purposeful hate over the passion of wrath.

plural → singular: context. they are talking about a Silmaril, because Beren doesn't intend to steal all 3.

the ending: also very natural.

Celegorm talks about (if they go with Beren) Nargothrond covered in blood and corpses, and Doriath ruined by a battle. Which is clearly foresight, and, ironically, comes to pass even though the people of Nargothrond don't massively go with Beren.

Curufin, things go like in the Silm, people murmur, I love the choice of word, it telegraphs a lot to me [or anyone who knows the Book of Exodus. TLDT they're being wrong and thankless].

Also, Finrod's crown is a silver helmet.

Oh, and also I keep calling him Finrod, but his name is Felagund and Finrod is, in this version, the name of his father, whom we know as Finarfin. I'm sorry, I can't switch to this convention.

Canto 7

Beren and Finrod (well, Felagund) ambush the Orch (which is fine, because Orcs), and the Orcs of course have poisoned spears, because bad guys use poison.

Sauron mentioned! He is called Thû, but just like with Finrod, I don't think I can switch how I call him. Also: "and the road[…] he watched with sleepless eye of flame". Unclear whether it's a spell-security-camera, PJ style or just a poetic description of his actual eyes. Also, sauron never sleeping sounds very in-chaarcter.

Oh, and Men will worship him. When? "in days after". But when? In late Numenor? "and made him ghastly temples in the shade" which is not a thing in the Silm. But not yet, now he's Morgoth's second-in-command.

We get a chilling description of his necromantic minions: "hosts of phantoms and wandering ghosts, of misbegotten or spell-wronged monsters". I love the word "spell-wronged".

We get a description of his throne on the isle, which is "fashioned of blood-darkened stone". C`hilling.

They talk, Sauron is really creepy and explicit about Morgoth's plans for Lúthien. And realizes that those guys are not orcs, because they're not laughing. We get few of the most evil /creepy/whatever lines ever, which I will not utter here (2139 to 2142). Then he asks them whom do they serve, which is again quite chilling. And… were this kind of talk in the Silm, I may have had less problems with reading it with the emotional responses that Tolkien wanted.

And then he switches to a somewhat cartoon villain style: "Death to light, to law, to love! Cursed be moon and stars above! May darkness everlasting old that waits outside in surges cold drown Manwë, Varda, and the sun! May all in hatered be begun, and all in evil ended be, in the moaning of the endless Sea!"

My reactions to this (in order):

team Rocket reference! (Well, not a reference, but it reminds me of) :D

HUH. Either I don't get it, or this text can't figure out what it means by what, or Tolkien just loves poetic terms too much…. or Sauron talks about things he doesn't understand (which would be in character tbh). All seem likely.

you are over the top, Sauron.

Yes, he's got flaming eyes. OK.

Song duel! Finrod's song has some common themes with Lúthien's song when she was escaping from the tree: "freedom escape[..] the prison opening, the chain that snaps". Another reference to the emaning of the title of this lay. Songs of freedom are a repeating motive in this. And not only in this. The song-rescue trope also ties songs and freedom, freeing someone. Makes me think.

Finrod loses, we switch to present tense for one stanza. For some reason? Maybe this is a genre thing, a tool that you are allowed to use in a poem like this.

We end on a dark, but beautifully-described note: "From time to time in the eyeless dark two eyes would grow, and they would hark to frightful cries, and then a sound of rending, a slavering on the ground, and blood flowing they would smell."

"But none would yield, and none would tell." So, ok, we do end on a less-dark note, to be precise.

#tw blood mention #silm #silm reread #lay of leithian #beren and luthien #oath of feanor #tolkien legendarium #finrod felagund #sauron #technically thu but anyway #eri reads the legendarium

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