#finrod one shot

[animatorweirdo]

A Dream or Reality?

Finrod had unknowingly changed his fate when he met a hunter from another world.

(This is a fic I kinda abandoned in my WIPs and have no motivation or what so ever to edit or do proper work on it, so there are certain mistakes. A crossover between Silmarillion and Bloodborne. I didn't want to simply put it in the trash, so I hope you like it. Another note: I haven't played Bloodborne, so I'm sorry if some of the things are wrong. )

Warnings: violence, blood, reader scaring most of the elves, using a gun, a lot of fighting, mentions of getting eaten by a wolf, and reader coming to rescue Finrod.

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Finrod’s first encounter with you was strange and sudden. 

He was on patrol with his men, seeking something else to do besides his royal duties and ensuring no orcs were hiding in his lands, trying to find out the location of his kingdom. 

The patrol was going more easily than he expected, so he allowed himself and his men to take a break at a river, enjoying the sounds of the flowing river and letting the horses drink after hours of riding. The sun was at its highest, so Finrod was certain no orc or other creature of darkness would ambush them at such a peaceful hour. 

That was it till he heard shooting in the distance. 

The horses were startled by the sudden sounds of what seemed to sound like explosions. Finrod had never heard such sounds before, so he didn’t know what to call them. However, the sounds were then accompanied by the howls of wargs– sounds which he knew very well and gave him a feeling something serious was happening. 

Finrod rallied his men and rode to investigate, following the sounds, which became louder as he got closer. He then arrived at a scene of a lone edain fending off a pack of wargs. 

You were shooting down the wargs one by one with a strange projectile-like weapon that created an explosion from the top of its pipe and sent something small yet fast flying at the wargs, killing them instantly. 

In your other hand, you held a strange saw-like weapon that seemed to be folded in a way, using it to cut down the wargs that came too close for your liking. It suddenly changed form as you plunged it into the warg’s chest and threw the beast over your shoulder, letting it die on the ground as your weapon changed back.

Finrod was surprised, to say at least. Your weapons were strange yet efficient contraptions. 

With his elven sight, he noticed your movements and reactions getting slower and clumsier. You also left a trail of blood in your steps, so it was clear you were injured and would soon get mauled by the pack if he didn’t do something. You were clearly getting too exhausted to handle the wargs by yourself, so he needed to step in and save you before it was too late. 

He ordered his men to shoot down the rest of the wargs as he came to you, dropping down from his horse when you fell to the ground, obviously exhausted and wounded. 

However, before he could touch you or even ask to see your injuries – you pushed your weapon at him, breathing heavily and with fear in your eyes. Finrod stayed still, trying not to startle you even though he was unnerved by the scent of something burning within the pipe of your weapon. He saw what it did to the wargs, so he was not keen on finding out what it could do to him, especially from such close range. 

His men were ready to shoot you, but he told them to stand back.

Your hold on the weapon was shaking, and the frightened look in your eyes told him you had never seen his kind before and the rush of fighting to stay alive was still affecting you. 

Finrod remained calm and slowly but gently assured you he was a friend and wanted to help. 

You cautiously laid your weapon down, confused by his fair appearance and calming voice but convinced he was not a monster or an illusion to trick your mind. He offered to check on your wounds, but before you could say anything – the blood loss you had suffered during the fight made you lose consciousness. 

Concerned, he quickly took you to his kingdom and left you in the care of the healers, who tried their best to stabilize your condition even though the odds seemed to be against you. He feared you would die despite his efforts, but luckily, you survived and fell into a deep sleep. 

He left you to rest in peace, letting the healers watch over you and wait for you to awaken from your sleep. However, he was confused when they told him about the unusual healing speed of your wounds. They had given you medicine, but your injuries seemed to have recovered in a matter of a day without leaving scars. It was like you were never in a fight in the first place. 

It was way too quick for a human, and not only that — you also seemed to be bothered by an illness of sorts. 

Finrod was concerned by the news, but he knew he could not do much about your condition. He will only find out when you wake up and tell him who you are and what this sickness was. 

It took a few days for you to recover, and when you finally woke up, you were startled to see yourself in a new place without your weapons and dark garments they took to be fixed and washed from the blood. It was a good thing Finrod was visiting when you woke up because you nearly wounded some of the healers in your panic. 

It was chaotic, but Finrod managed to calm you down before you accidentally injured his people. 

He tried to talk to you when you calmed down and went back to rest on the bed. You seemed much more docile around him but did not utter a word. Strangely, you seemed to be trying to figure out if you were in a dream of sorts or trying to find something hiding in the corners. At least taken by your constant cautious and suspicious look in your eyes. 

It was such a strange behavior. Finrod could definitely tell you were not from Beleriand since everything seemed so new and strange for you, minus your weapons and clothes, which were strangely fashioned. 

But when you spoke for the first time, he was both delighted and even more perplexed. 

“Is this a dream?” you asked him. 

Finrod was not certain how to answer since you looked at him seriously, yearning for the answer to your question. It gave him thoughts if you had something to do with dreams before that had greatly affected your mind. 

He assured you were not in a dream, and everything was real. You didn’t seem very convinced but took the answer and didn’t speak much. 

When he asked where you were from; you told him you were from a city called Yharnam which he was not familiar with like you weren’t familiar with Nargothrond or Middle Earth. 

It was one of the last times you spoke so much. Now you mostly answered with hums and nods. 

Finrod took you for a quiet person, so he didn’t push you to talk when he started visiting you, bringing some sweets and filling you in about his people and the kingdom and the world outside. 

You listened attentively and rarely answered his questions with words. 

You told him you were a hunter and your home had been plagued with a terrible disease that turned people into monsters. Your task was to hunt these monsters while trying to find a cure for the illness within you.  

Finrod felt sympathetic for you, especially when there was no known cure yet for your illness. 

The last thing you remember was an odd feeling taking over you during a fight then you woke up somewhere unknown, ambushed by the pack of wargs. 

Since it would take time for you to find a way back to your home. Finrod allowed you to stay and even offered the help of his healers to find a cure for your illness. 

You gratefully accepted the offer even though you had doubts even his healers could find the cure and thus – your stay in Nargothrond began. 

Finrod’s people felt unease by your presence when you got better and started walking around. You were quiet and dressed strangely. They had also heard about the weapons you possessed, so no one dared to approach you. 

You followed Finrod around like a shadow, listening to him and rarely speaking. It intimidated the elves of Nargothrond even though their king did not seem to mind, already used to your silence. 

Celegorm, however, decided to test your patience, throwing slight insults and trying to gain any reaction from you. It was pretty clear to you, so you paid him no mind and continued with your own business, talking with Finrod and working with the healers on the possible cure for you. 

It of course made him try harder, but you have faced darker things, so his jabbing was nothing thus there was nothing to gain by ingulding his attention-seeking behaviour, so it was rather easy. 

When Finrod couldn’t contain his curiosity anymore, he asked you about your weapons, especially about the projectile weapon that made explosions. 

You were confused till you realized he was talking about your pistol, so you then gave a brief explanation and even demonstrated how to use it on the training grounds, blowing the targets with your bullets and startling the bystanders with its explosive sounds. 

You even demonstrated your saw-cleaver in both of its forms. 

Finrod was fascinated though he did not like the sounds your pistol made in its use. 

You were interesting company even though you didn’t talk much. You spent most of your time with him or enjoying the calmness of nature since you were rather reluctant to interact with anyone else. Finrod had hoped you would spend some time with other people, making friends and acquaintances since it seemed you might stay in Nargothrond for longer. Your reasoning was you shouldn't make attachments that might not last or because you might never see them again. It was logical in a way, but still. To his delight, you did start interacting with his loyal friend Edrahil, who was often seen scolding you for scaring other elves with your looming presence even as a joke. He had a feeling you liked it in a way since Edrahil did not seem to bear any fear toward you. 

The day finally arrived when Barahir’s son, Beren,  came to seek his aid in a quest. Finrod knew the day would eventually come, but to reclaim a silmaril from Morgoth’s crown, he hoped it would have been something else, especially when the two sons of Feanor spoke against him and convinced his own people against partaking in the quest, save for Edrahil and a handful of people, who were willing to join. 

You were willing to join to repay for his kindness, but Finrod convinced you to stay behind. You have been healed from your injuries, but since you were ill. It would be best for you to stay behind with his people, so they could continue researching the cure for you. 

You did not like the sound of him going on his own with only a handful of people to steal from Morgoth. But you did not like trying to talk back to him. He was too convincing, so you stayed behind. 

But as Finrod suspected, he, Beren, and his company barely made past Sirion and got captured by Sauron. He tried to fight back the wicked lieutenant of Morgoth, but his power proved to be too great and they were trapped in a dungeon with a ravenous wolf who began eating his companions one by one. 

Hope seemed lost, but he couldn't bring himself to give up easily and let Beren die, so he was prepared to die. 

But in the darkness, he heard a sound that sparked hope within his heart, the gunshot of your pistol. 

You had come. 

You were shooting Sauron's werewolves left and right as they charged at you. You pulled out your saw-spear and plunged it into one of the beasts, letting its blood dress the bridge that was now collecting bodies of werewolves. 

You pulled out your weapon, letting it click back into its primary form and the werewolf fell dead on your feet. The hound, Huan, stood beside you as it had fought alongside you. You gazed at the tower before you. 

You have faced several foes, so you did not fear. However, this time you hoped you would get to Finrod just in time before fate's claws would take him. Determined, you clogged your gun and prepared for a fierce fight to save your friend. 

[lamemaster]

Hello, stopping by to make a request.

If it's okay with you, might I have some headcanons for Finrod, similar to the Maglor (10 ways to kiss your elf)? It's alright if you can't do the entire ten, any amount you're able to write would be great 🌻. Thank you and hope you have fun!

11 Ways to Hug the King of Nargothrond

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning: character death

AN: Yay, my first official request. Thanks for requesting this. I had so much fun writing this that I might've gone overboard. I hope you like it

1.Recipe to hug- Finrod stands unmoving. His ancient heart beats louder than ever. Even the constant shuffle of your footsteps fades as blood pumps in his ears. He watches you make your way towards him with wide open arms and a pleasant smile on your face. The sun settles in your flowing hair. It changes the color of your hair as if becoming a part of your hroa. Nothing better proves that the Edain truly are the children of the sun. Lost in his pondering, he almost loses his balance when your arms encircle his neck. You stand on your toes. Your body leaning forward to meet his. Finrod leans in as he bends down to let your feet rest easy. From the close up he can see the light of his own eyes reflected into yours. You smile and it does not take long before a similar smile finds itself on his face. “Like this,” you say as you pull away one of your arms to hold his hand and guide it to your waist. Followed by his other hand. “This is how you hug, My King,” your voice rings close to his ear and the faint warmth of your breath catches him off guard.

2. Cuddling hug- Finrod’s unfocused eyes stare back at you. Elves dreamt with their eyes open. They slept, unlike men they slept less. Only the labor of several days led to a night of deep sleep. Finrod’s elven sleeping form had scared you out of your wits the first time you had seen it. Your horrified scream at that time was followed by an army of guards swarming in your room and not to forget your beloved who woke up with the scariest look in his eyes. Now as you lay next to your slumbering lover for the first time you find yourself awake while he sleeps. Turning to him you move closer. You both had been traveling and now that you were back in the safety of Nargothrond your beloved finally let down his constant guard and welcomed sleep. With your movements as quiet as you can manage you embrace Finrod in a hug. Your beloved remains sleeping, thank Eru! You pull closer to your lover, basking in the warmth of your contact. Somehow even deep in his dream Finrod’s arms encircle your waist. Pulling you closer. Your head rests on his chest as you try to go back to sleep with a wild heart.

3. Hesitant hug-A unlit room welcomed him. While Finrod himself can see well in dark he seriously doubted you could. Worried about your safety he looked around trying to link you to the steady beat of your heart that rang in his ears. At last, he spotted a small but noticeable lump on your bed. Covered in blankets, you were the most adorable mountain ever. “Well, what brings you here?” Your voice held a sulky tone. “I’m not outside my room now am I?” It was not hard to imagine the pout you probably had on your face right now. Empowered to witness it himself Finrod made his way to your moping form. With the grace of a duck, which very much made him cringe, Finrod climbed up the bed. “Meleth, you must understand,” he begins only for you to scoff at him. Ready to enter the metaphorical battlefield even under the cover of blankets. “Listen to me,” with the most foreign movements Finrod wraps his arms around you. A hug is still something that escapes his elven senses. With the little hill in his embrace, Finrod rests his chin on top of your head (a gesture that you don’t pull away from). “How about we wait your cold out for a few days and then plan an outing?” A small cold, he tried to reassure himself. You would get better soon, he reasoned in his mind. 

4. Reassuring hug- As you run through the woods your breath comes heavy. You pant as the heavy footsteps following you grow louder with every passing second. So close. You are so close to home yet, it seems farther than ever with your faltering steps. “Ahhh!” Your trembling hands try to untangle your hair that gets stuck in a wayward branch that you failed to notice in your haste. A delay that costs you more of the precious seconds you have on your pursuers. ‘Please…help,’ you plead and beg to those who dare listen to your prayer. With your hair free you resume your struggle. This death would be too painful of a fate for you and your beloved. ‘Eru,’ your thought is cut sharp as a protruding root on the forest floor catches your foot only for the doom to inch closer. ‘Don’t let him know of this,’ you bargain with the fates. But never feel the impact of the fall that you anticipate. A firm hand holds you and your scrunched-shut eyes shoot open to greet the sight of an elven guard. Distant screams of agony fill the forest as the party of elven soldiers clears the orcs following you. However, your world narrows at the first glance of your beloved, who rushes in carrying a bloodied sword. His eyes find yours with a panicked look in them. A maniacal look. Letting go of the hand that supports you, you make a last run. Ignoring your screaming lungs and protesting heart you run to him. On the other end, you watch him drop his sword and run towards you with a speed unknown to man. And you meet in the middle. Your limbs a mess, your faces inches apart, and your bodies shaking with uncontrollable tremors. His hands hold you close. Too dangerous, too close, too soon. Words remain unsaid but the relief fills in. That day he becomes greater than any god, any supreme being, any creator.

5. Heartbeat through hug- Your head rests on his chest and Finrod can’t help but marvel. His own heart fades into nothingness as the rhythm of your heart fills his sense. His enhanced senses can feel the strength of the heart of the secondborn. With a curious idea brewing in his mind Finrod leans in. Getting closer to your face, he lifts your chin to make you face him and inches closer. Nearer and nearer until he hears it. A skip of the beat and then a faster rhythm. You look at him with a beautiful red gathering on your face. Your breath hitches and Finrod feels victorious as your heart races. His heart follows yours. His own heart pauses to beat when you lean in and steal a kiss with a mischievous smile on your face.

6. Compensatory hug- Your beloved kisses you crazy. His kiss leaves you arching into him. Wanting more. Finrod gently lays you on the bed as he crawls on top of you continuing the kiss deeper than ever. His eyes shine brighter than the sun, the moon, and the stars. His golden hair is almost silver with the moon that seems to shine only for him. Pleasure and heat fill you as his hands travel your body. You want this. You have waited for so long. You love him and you have the right to want him in every way. He loves you in return. You know this. Your reasoning fades as voices of self-doubt erupt in your head. ‘She awaits him,’ one of your voices whispers with venom. ‘It is immoral,’ another adds with unconcealed scorn. ‘No,’ the other argues and the room feels too full. Too crowded with your voices, Finrod, and the stars glaring at you. You are as shaken as Finrod when a sob breaks through your throat. Tears come easier than ever and the voices in your mind blame you for the hurt look in Finrod’s eyes. ‘No, no, no, no…’ your panicked thoughts are left unsaid. Instead, you hug him. A hug is all you can give to him, who someone awaits in distant lands. Someone who would accompany him for eternity and not leave him withering in an inescapable world. “We can’t,” your voice cracks with an effort to speak. Finrod freezes in your arms. The next second your arms fall to your sides as your beloved leaves the room with the door slammed shut. And the voices return louder than ever.

7. Tired hug- 1, 2, 3, and Bam. The door to Finrod’s study blasts opens with your unrestrained might. From the corner of his eye he watches you gather your flowing gown in your hands, a gesture so mannish that it leaves him more in love than ever. He feels the thud of your steps vibrate through his very being as you stomp your way to him. For once the papers about spices and silks feel uninteresting but Finrod continues the facade of being interested in the texts. “Hmph,” you grunt in determination as you remain unfazed by his lack of attention. He almost squeals in a very unkingly voice when you very much drape yourself over him. Putting all your body weight on him, you slouch on his back. Finrod almost faceplants into his desk. The paper in his grasp slips when you whisper, “Human very tired. Must sleep,” right next to his ear. Your breath tickles his neck but Finrod resists the urge to move. “Wha-” his question is interrupted by a small snore. The King of Nargothrond finds himself in a predicament unlike never before.

8. Princess carry hug- Finrod looks scandalized. He turns to you with a shocked look on his face, asking for a silent explanation. “It is tradition. A race in which you carry your spouse and run,” you reply to your beloved. Around you, all the men prepare for the race. Many are busy instructing their spouses on the correct hold. The small settlement that you and Finrod are visiting emerges with a new life as everyone prepares for the Spring festival. “Should we take part?” You ask your lover whose gleaming eyes are enough of an answer to all your questions. The next moment Finrod gawks as you carry him in a princess carry. “Just checking,” you explain to your lover whose legs almost touch the ground even in your embrace. “It would be only fair that I compete with my fellow men and leave your Elvish Highness out of it.” The King of Nargothrond barely looks at you as his arms encircle your neck and his face buries in the crook of your neck. “You better win,” he whispers and you can’t stop your own bubbling laugh.

9. Hug that hides tears- A squelch of wetness overwhelms Finrod’s senses. The concerning creak and wear of your lungs are not gone unnoticed by him. The room fills with your struggling breaths. A process leaves you panting and sweating. “Stay,” you muster to say even in your delirious state. Finrod stays. He sits next to you as you hug him closer than ever. Holding him in a way that keeps him from breaking. However, the comfort of your mannish gesture does little to calm him. A sickness he wished upon himself. Something, anything to spare you of this pain. He wishes for the same doom to take him where it drags you. Next to you lay bloodied handkerchiefs. A proof of the future that awaits him. Finrod stares at your blood. He stares and wishes for it to go away. He has already prayed and pleaded with the gods who ignore him. He has scoured texts for a cure only to find the inevitability of doom. He feels his shoulders shake with grief. His petty tears make your gown wet. A gesture that helps little…but he can’t stop. But you, even in your pain and suffering hold him firm. You comfort him even as you struggle to oppress an emerging coughing fit in your lungs.

10. Hug of leave-taking- “Here,” Finrod drapes a thick coat around you as he flutters around the room. His own armor gleaming in the light of the day. He fusses around your droughts, “you must take them all at the right time,” he instructs for the tenth time in the last hour. “I will,” you reassure your beloved who seems unaffected by it like the last nine times. You find the strength to push yourself up from your bed and make your way to Finrod. “Have I not recovered already?” You ask him as you take his hands in your own. “This cure…it can help,” Finrod stammers. His voice so uncertain, so fragile. “I am sure we’ll all be fine,” you hug him. His arms close around you. “Take care on your journey. Take care of yourself,” you add as you push away the words bubbling on your tongue. The hug lasts longer and you find yourself rocking in a small dance. “I’ll wait for you,” you add before you watch him leave. The last words you say to him. For when the King of the Nargothrond returns from his excursion, he returns to you gone. You do not make him witness your fall. Your last moments are not his tears. So, you leave to die in a faraway place that hides your agony from him.

11. Hug of reunion- The bright golden world of the men blends with the silvery calm of the firstborns. After ages when Arda is unmade. It is then that Finrod, who longer remains the King of Nargothrond, neither betrothed to someone nor bound by a different world, finds you. Untouched by sorrow, pain, or disease, he finds you. A hroa that shines with the might of the Sun. Even tears escape him in a moment so precious. Without a delay, he rushes to embrace you and you run towards him. Light is all that remains as he finally gets to be with you.

[maybe-thou-shalt-find-valimar]

🌹

I've made a wonderful finrod description and now yall will read (part of) it

His unbraided curls hung near his waist and swept over his pale blue eyes, which shone almost as brightly.

[baddybaddyadardaddy]

Okay, I'm going to make a wild prediction about Adar and Galadriel in Episode 8, so strap in.

An overarching the/major motif of the Rings of Power from the very first episode has been, obviously, the interplay between darkness/light.

"To find the light, we must first touch the darkness." / "Before light, darkness must flee, etc."

Adar and Galadriel together are a manifestation of that duality between light and dark and accordingly, I think there's a compelling case for them to team up against Sauron at the end of Season 2.

Here's my attempt at this argument:

PARALLELS BETWEEN ADAR AND GALADRIEL

The show has established a few strong visual parallels between the two of them.

Mourning ritual. Galadriel mourning for Finrod in S1Ep1 is echoed by Adar's mourning of the Uruks in S2Ep7. They even mirror the single tear.

What's more, Galadriel bears WITNESS to Adar's funeral ritual, enforcing the connection of this moment.

Seed planting. Frankly, my jaw hit the floor when S2Ep2 had Galadriel planting seeds in the memorial garden in Lindon, because the shots/framing were almost IDENTICAL to the seed planting Adar does at the beginning of S1Ep6. The sentiments of both instances are the same "life over death," though the words do differ.

Flip sides of the same coin/mirror to one another. The show has also presented us with many instances where they function as mirrors to one another. If not signficant, why do?

Barn scene. The barn scene in S1Ep6 is a PRIME example, when Adar literally calls Galadriel out for the hypocrisy of her hatred of the orcs.

The dinner scene. Adar once again holds up a mirror to Galadriel, pushing back against her notion that "you yielded to him. I resisted." Then they have the shared acknowledgement that without Sauron, the world seems a "dull grey" (GREY, interestingly, a halfway point between dark and light). Adar's face in response to her admission will live rent-free in my mind forever-- it's like he's been SEEN for the first time in his life.

So while Galadriel sees herself as a warrior of light, and views Adar as a creature of darkness, the show does a pretty superb job of showing that both of these characters have light and dark within them in equal measure.

They were both tempted by Sauron and succumbed.

So there is a clear, thematic link between these two from that standpoint.

ADAR'S JOURNEY TOWARD THE LIGHT

Next, I think it is clear Adar on a path toward light/redemption as an elf, and it tracks in a VERY LITERAL SENSE.

First time we see Adar, he is bathed in an angelic light. As he performs the funeral ritual for Magrot, light streams into the Uruk tent.

The shot at the end of S2 Ep1, when the camera lingers on Adar as Gil-Galad's call to the Eldalie commences. Adar feels the undeniable call to his elven past. That camera shot was NOT A COINCIDENCE, and I'm FOREVER FERAL ABOUT IT.

Cavalry charge at the siege of Eregion. Adar is OBVIOUSLY backlit:

There is a dividing line between light and shadow an Adar is RIGHT on the border of it.

When he steps up to take possession of Nenya, the sky behind him is split between a darker side and a lighter side. (You can argue that it's a CREEPY light, but it's still light. There is almost no all-black coloring on him in that second frame when he actually has the ring. For a character that's been head to toe in black the entire series, this is Significant.)

So where does that leave us for the big Sauron smackdown?

My first wild prediction: In an INSANE reversal, Galadriel will be the one to bring Morgoth's dark crown to the confrontation, while Adar will wield Nenya, a symbol of light.

It's not inconceivable that Gal could have smuggled it out of Adar's camp somehow under her oversized Uruk cloak. And Adar, OBVIOUSLY now possesses Nenya at the end of S2Ep7.

I think the fight between Galadriel and Sauron is ACTUALLY a three-person fight; we just haven't seen Adar in the promos because

1. Obvious plot spoilers and

2. HE WILL BE FIGHTING IN A FAIR FORM BECAUSE NENYA WILL HEAL HIS CORRUPTION.

My second wild prediction: This three-person fight is telegraphed in The Last Temptation. There's a new motif (not musical, so unclear if this is the correct term??) that starts around 1:07. It sounds like an aggressive children's choir. Interspersed, we get some of Gal's themes and Sauron-flavored music. I think this new bit could be either a combined theme for Gal/Adar fighting side by side, OR a new motif for a changed/elven Adar. It's aggressive, which to me tracks with Adar's fighting style that we saw through S2Ep7, and it builds and gets more voices added to it as the song progresses. At one point, it blends perfectly with Gal's theme.

Third wild prediction that I hope I'm wrong about: Adar will likely get fatally stabbed during this fight. I could see him giving Galadriel the ring at a crucial moment, in as a redemptive act, which would forfeit any protection it might have offered him, and I think he'll receive a fatal blow from Sauron, but not before we get a much clearer picture of EXACTLY who Adar is. IF they do it this way, it will be a deeply satisying end to Adar's story arc, IMHO.

Last thoroughly unhinged thing I will leave you with:

Nolwa Mahtar translation (from S1), according to Bear's blog:

Finish the war, the darkness, end this suffering

Impossible to pursue, deep in shadow, follow light

Finish the war, the darkness, end this suffering

Bright warrior against darkness.

Obviously this theme plays a HUGE role in S2. I believe the lyrics are different; we don't know what they say yet.

But I have contended all along that this piece has always applied in some way to BOTH Adar and Galadriel.

Galadriel is the bright warrior standing against Sauron's darkness, yes, that image is obvious.

But Adar, a figure who lived deep in shadow, follows light, ultimately finishing his own war and ending his own suffering.

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Galadriel in Season 1-2 of “Rings of Power”: Valiant, Prideful and the Darkness Within

Galadriel was born during the Years of the Trees, on Valinor, the only daughter of High King of the Noldor, Finarfin, sister to three brothers. She was named “Artanis” by her father, and “Galadriel” (Sindarin for “Maiden crowned with gleaming hair”) is the name she took after marrying prince Celebron, in Doriath (Middle-earth).

In her youth, Galadriel was known for her proud, strong and self-willed temperament, and for the unmatched beauty of her hair. She had the golden hair of her kin, but hers was particularly striking, shot with silver, and beautiful. And so much so that Fëanor was inspired by how the light of the Two Trees of Valinor caught her hair to craft the Silmarils. Three times he asked her for a few strands of it, and three times Galadriel refuse him. Galadriel couldn’t stand Fëanor and saw the growing darkness in him; most likely because it was the same as within herself.

Tolkien describes Galadriel as “of Amazon disposition”, “strong of body, mind and will, a match for both the loremasters and the athletes of the Eldar in the days of their youth”, and she would “bound up her hair as a crown when taking part in athletic feats”. Her mother called her Nerwen, “man-maiden”.

Departure from Valinor

Galadriel is adventurous, ambitious “and like her brother Finrod, of all her kindred the nearest to her in heart, she had dreams of far lands and dominions that might be her own to order as she would without tutelage [from the Valar]”.

Galadriel, the only woman of the Noldor to stand that day tall and valiant among the contending princes, was eager to be gone [from Valinor]. No oaths she swore, but the words of Fëanor concerning Middle-earth had kindled her heart, and she yearned to see the wide untrodden lands and to rule there a realm at her own will. For the youngest of the House of Finwë she came into the world west of the Sea, and knew yet nought of the unguarded lands. Morgoth’s Ring

In Unfinished Tales, Tolkien tells us Galadriel wanted to leave Valinor and travel to Middle-earth to exercise her talents; being brilliant in mind and swift in action she had early absorbed all of what she was capable of the teaching which the Valar thought fit to give the Eldar’, and she felt confined in the tutelage of Aman. In Valinor, Galadriel had been a pupil of both Aulë and Yavanna, and felt the Valar had already taught her everything they were allowed to.

This can look like a level of arrogance of the likes of Fëanor, however, this is not how Tolkien sees it. Galadriel is presented like a character full of potential, spirit and talent. And even Manwë, the King of the Valar himself, has heard of her desire to leave for Middle-earth and didn’t oppose.

Refusing the Valar pardon

At the end of the First Age she [Galadriel] proudly refused forgiveness or permission to return. Tolkien Letter 320

And this is the Galadriel we meet in the first episode of “Rings of Power”. The audience can immediately perceive she’s strong-willed, proud and rebellious, acting against orders of the High-king of the Noldor, Gil-galad, in her endless hunt for Sauron, Morgoth’s sucessor and the responsible for her brother’s death.

Galadriel is also the only Elf in Middle-earth who believes that Sauron is still out there, and means to find and destroy him, at any cost. “More and more of our kind began to believe that Sauron was but a memory. And the threat, at last, was ended. I wish I could be one of them.”

It was not your company who defied you out there, but rather you who defied the High King, by refusing to heed any limit placed upon you. In an act of magnanimity, he has chosen to honor your accomplishments… Rather than dwell upon your insolence. Test him again and you may find him less receptive than you might have hoped. Elrond warns Galadriel, 1x01

Gil-galad “honors” Galadriel by granting her passage to return to Valinor, and rest in glory. But she’s set on refusing, not because she’s certain Sauron will return, and wants to find him, but due to her belief she won’t find inner peace, until she accomplishes that, as she tells Elrond in the same episode:

Elrond: Do you truly believe seeking him out will satisfy you? That one more Orc upon the point of your blade will bring you peace? […] If you are wrong, will you lead more Elves to die in far-off lands? To convince yourself you have done enough, how many more statues would you add to this path? No one in history has ever refused the call. Do so now, it may never come again. Do so now, it may never come again. You will linger here, an outcast, poisoned in dark whispers and dreams. Galadriel: And in the West, do you think my fate would be better? Where song would mock the cries of battle in my ears? You say I have won victory over all the horrors of Middle-earth. Yet you would leave them alive in me? To take with me? Undying, unchanging, unbreaking, into the land of winter less spring? Elrond: Only in the Blessed Realm can that which is broken in you be healed. Go there. Go, and I promise you… If but a whisper of a rumor of the threat you perceive proves true, I will not rest until it is put right. You have fought long enough, Galadriel. Put up your sword.

I would also like to point out Elrond foreshadowing Galadriel’s banishment in this scene. And this is very much in line with what Tolkien wrote:

[Galadriel] had no peace within. Pride still moved her when, at the end of the Elder Days after the final overthrow of Morgoth, she refused the pardon of the Valar for all who had fought against him, and remained in Middle-earth. It was not until two long ages more had passed, when at last all she had desired in her youth came to her hand, the Ring of Power and the dominion of Middle-earth of which she had dreamed, that her wisdom was full grown and she rejected it, and passing the last test departed from Middle-earth forever. The Peoples of Middle-earth

The Darkness Within

“Rings of Power” presents some explanations to Galadriel refusing the Valar’s pardon and staying in Middle-earth. At the surface, it’s because she wants to hunt down Sauron, defeat him, and for Halbrand to be “The Lost King” who could ride [her] to victory, like Elrond says, in 2x02.

It’s because of her pride, or her desire for vengeance. However, in 1x05, and in a moment of vulnerability with Halbrand aka Repentant Mairon, she reveals the true reason behind her restless pursuit of Sauron:

Galadriel sees her endless pursue for Sauron as the means to earn her inner peace after everything she saw, did and endured on Middle-earth. It’s connected to her pride, yes, but also to her greatest and deepest desire of healing. And this is why she can’t stop her pursuit, even when we, the audience, watch Galadriel endanger her companions’ lives in 1x01. She believes only when she destroys Sauron, will she destroy the darkness within herself.

Indeed he does, because Sauron wants to heal Middle-earth from Morgoth’s corruption, at this point in his own character arc. But the “darkness within” has been present in Galadriel’s character ever since the prologue of “Rings of Power”, and this is also in line with Tolkien legendarium, as Galadriel recognizes the darkness in others as a mirror to her own, and how she refuses to talk about her time in Valinor with Melian.

And in Season 1, we see Galadriel employing some questionable tactics; in Númenor she acts behind Halbrand’s back with Queen regent Míriel to get herself an army (the army she claims to Adar Sauron promised her, in 2x06), and travel to the Southlands and defeat Sauron. There, she vows to genocide the Orcs and killing some of them in a gruesome manner (bringing them into the sunlight) just for Adar to reveal Sauron’s whereabouts, even though he already told her the truth (as he knows it): he killed Sauron.

It would seem I'm not the only Elf alive who has been transformed by darkness. Perhaps your search for Morgoth's successor should have ended in your own mirror. Adar taunts Galadriel, 1x06

And Adar will not be the only character to mention the pull to the darkness in Galadriel, in “Rings of Power”:

The light of Valinor shone upon your very face, Galadriel, and you turned your back on it. Was it truly to fight the darkness or was the darkness calling to you? Elrond, 2x01

This is more noticeable with Repentant Mairon aka Halbrand, when she acts the “Morgoth” to his “Sauron”, by tempting him with power while he’s on a quest for redemption. By then, we already have some pieces of foreshadowing on this. We have Gil-galad’s prophecy in 1x01: “We foresaw that if it had, she [Galadriel] might have inadvertently kept alive the very evil she sought to defeat [Sauron]. For the same wind that seeks to blow out a fire may also cause its spread.”

And we also see Galadriel in connection with the Fall of Númenor visions, in Season 1:

And Mairon himself confirms this in 1x08. And that explains his “are they not the seeds you planted?” in Season 2. Because she’s the one who tempted him with power, and with the pouch of the King of the Southlands (Morgoth), when he wanted to remain in Númenor in servitude, and to prove his good faith to the Valar, and redeem himself from his crimes under Morgoth.

However, not only Galadriel established a connection with him, but also said “I’ve felt it too” when he expressed his wish to bind himself to her (“Fighting at your side, I... I felt... If I could just hold on to that feeling, keep it with me always, bind it to my very being, then I...”). She gave him the validation he wanted, and made him believe she would offer him forgiveness, and he would earn the redemption he so desperately wanted. But she didn’t, she cast him out. And he wouldn’t let it slide that easily, as we’ve been in Season 2.

Growing in Wisdom

In Season 2, we saw some glimpses of Galadriel letting go of her arrogance and “galloping”, and seeing the “bigger picture” in some occasions. This is foreshadowing for her future character arc, as the wise and compassionate, yet fierce and valiant, leader we know her to be on the Third Age. From Tolkien lore, we know that as she grows in wisdom and power (“elf magic” as Sam calls it), Galadriel will leave her pride behind.

Arondir. There is a dearth of Elven heroes this night. It would be a pity to lose another. Galadriel advises Arondir not to attack Adar, 2x07

But perhaps her last scene with Adar, in 2x08, was the most emblematic of this. She has been to the Orc camp, and witnessed the funeral rites, and how the Orcs live, and realized that, maybe, they aren’t the scourged slaves she believed them to be, back in Season 1. Each one of them has a personality. Like Adar told her, in 1x06: “We are creations of The One, Master of the Secret Fire, the same as you. As worthy of the breath of life, and just as worthy of a home.”

And Galadriel is becoming more attuned to every race in Middle-earth, and the Orcs were only the beginning. And she was willingly to make an alliance with Adar, at the end. They shared an agreement (until Sauron showed up and put an end to that). But more importantly, Adar forgives Galadriel for her hatred and her killing of the Orcs. And, as I’ve talked about on my post on Repentant Mairon (aka Halbrand), forgiveness is a major theme in Tolkien legendarium, and it’s not only earned, but given as well. And by forgiving Galadriel and returning Nenya to her, Adar redeems himself (just like Gollum; which is a theme I talked about here).

Banishment from Valinor

In Letter 353, Tolkien confirms that “Galadriel was 'unstained': she had committed no evil deeds”, concerning the Oath of Fëanor. She took no part in any of that; because “she was an enemy of Fëanor”. In the same letter, Tolkien tells us Galadriel reached Middle-earth independently, and not alongside the other Noldor. And her desires were legitimate, but “she became involved in the desperate measures of Manwë, and the ban on all emigrations”.

Many (Christopher Tolkien included) think this contradicts Galadriel’s banishment from returning to Valinor. But this is an idea (“the banishment of Galadriel”) Tolkien has in place in several sources of his work. And it wouldn’t be the first time Christopher Tolkien misinterpreted his father work, either, with the Dagor Dagorath being a prime example, when he thinks Tolkien abandoned the concept when he didn’t (Christopher later corrected this, though).

And it has been noticed by many Tolkien scholars how Christopher Tolkien has “tone down” his father’s female characters on his notes and editions, too. With Galadriel being a prime example of this. Tolkien tells us on several occasions that Galadriel had aspirations of power and dominion, she wanted a kingdom of her own, to rule as she saw fit, and that’s why she remained on Middle-earth, and refused the Valar’s pardon. However, Christopher decided to strip Galadriel of her agency, and even attempted to whitewash her character by claiming she wanted to stay on Middle-earth due to her love for Celeborn, when this has nothing to do with what Tolkien himself wrote. So, excuse me, for talking his interpretation with a grain of salt.

And, since Galadriel is married to Celeborn, of course, he’s included on her plans of having a kingdom of her own (to be otherwise wouldn’t make sense), with them both ruling it, but Galadriel wants to be the one “calling the shots”. And this dynamic is what will happen in Lothlórien: Celeborn is lord, but Galadriel is *the* Lady, without her husband overstep or overshining her. I’m not seeing any contradiction here. Maybe a case of “overthinking”, because Letter 353 appears to be about Galadriel not taking the Oath of Fëanor (and that’s not the reason for her banishment).

I owe much of this character to Christian and Catholic teachings and imagination of Mary, but actually Galadriel was a penitent, in her youth, a leader in the rebellion against the Valar (the angelic guardians). At the end of the First Age she proudly refused forgiveness or permission to return. She was pardoned because of her resistance to the final and overwhelming temptation to take the [One] Ring for herself. Tolkien Letter 320

I already theorized about Galadriel connection to the Virgin Mary (she’s not “the Virgin Mary”, but a “devotee of the Virgin Mary” in Tolkien lore) but I think Tolkien is being very clear with his words here. He considers Galadriel a “repentant sinner”, and he doesn’t contradict himself at all. Because a desire for power and dominion are not positive traits on his legendarium. And the confirmation that she was pardoned by the Valar when she resists the One Ring, clearly indicates there was something more at work, and is connected with her return to Valinor.

In “Fellowship of the Ring” book, this is also clear: “I pass the test,” she says, “I will diminish, and go into the West, and remain Galadriel.” Her “passing the test” and resisting the One Ring is connected with her returning to Valinor.

We know, from Tolkien lore, Galadriel develops “sea longing” on the Third Age, and has a deep desire to return to Valinor, to the point of depression (she sings laments about it). One can argue she stays out of duty, but then why is she “pardoned” by the Valar after rejecting the One Ring and can now go to Valinor? The only explanation is that Galadriel was, indeed, banished, and her resisting the One Ring is her final test. She passes the test, the Valar pardon her, her banishment is lifted, and she returns to Valinor at the end of “The Return of the King”. No contradictions there.

On Christopher’s defense, he probably thought Galadriel “desiring power and dominion” weren’t good enough reasons for her to be banished from Valinor, and that’s a plot hole “Rings of Power” is trying to answer, with her connection with Sauron, and the temptations he offers her. He is, after all, the one who introduces the “desire for power and dominion” to her character arc in the show; by offering her temptations and promises of endless power (his power). Which means, Galadriel’s desire for dominion and power from Tolkien lore is personified by Sauron in the show. And the reason for her banishment, will be, also, connected to him, somehow, for Sauron has already offered her the same temptation as the One ring, thousands of years into the future:

And now at last it comes. You will give me the Ring freely! In place of the Dark Lord you will set up a Queen. And I shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the Morning and the Night! Fair as the Sea and the Sun and the Snow upon the Mountain! Dreadful as the Storm and the Lightning! Stronger than the foundations of the earth. All shall love me and despair! She lifted up her hand and from the ring that she wore there issued a great light that illumined her alone and left all else dark. She stood before Frodo seeming now tall beyond measurement, and beautiful beyond enduring, terrible and worshipful. Fellowship of the Ring

In Tolkien legendarium, it’s not Galadriel adventurous or valiant nature that gets her into trouble with the Valar, but her rebellious spirit, and her pride, above of all, that lead her defy their authority, and wanting to claim a kingdom of her own where she can make her own rules. In “Rings of Power” the disapproval of the Valar are personified in the characters of Gil-galad and Elrond.

Indeed, her disregard for the Valar laws is visible on several occasions in lore. Not only she “proudly refused” their pardon to return to Valinor, at the dawn of the Second Age, but Tolkien tells us, in Unfinished Tales: Celeborn was the lover of Galadriel, who she later wedded. In Letter 43, Tolkien defines what he means by “a lover” (in general): “engaging and blending all his affections and powers of mind and body in a complex emotion powerfully coloured and energized by sex”.

This seems to imply, Galadriel didn’t wait to be “officially” married (ceremony, feast) to Celeborn before consummating their union. For the Eldar, “sex = marriage”, indeed, but the way Tolkien phrases this seems to indicate Galadriel doesn’t concern herself with the Eldar ways, and took Celeborn as her lover before any thought of actual marriage. Because language is extremely important in Tolkien, and we already know “sex = marriage” for the Eldar, so him writing this about Galadriel’s character means there’s something more to it.

Interestingly enough, these two themes are present in Tolkien last letter concerning Galadriel, in 1973 (the year of his passing). Without context, however, it’s unclear if the two are related or not, so read this with a whole saltshaker:

I meant right away to deal with Galadriel, and with the question of Elvish child-bearing.

[laginestra98]

The metaphisical Love of Sauron's and Galadriel's hands

"They part the theater with a semitouch, their hands abstractly close-up, separated only by the glass of the car window. This marvelous cinematic gesture communicates so much more than simple character and plot resolution. The abstract nature of the shot amplifies the significance of it, suggesting love of the highest, metaphysical order." The Films of Krzysztof Kieślowski: The Liminal Image, Joseph G. Kickasola, pp. 317-318

I was reading this book for my thesis when i came about this lines and something in my head clicked at "suggesting love of the highest, metaphisical order". And in that moment I thought about Galadriel and Sauron (indeed, why doing your work when you can think of them, right?). This kind of love, which is metaphysical and it's shown through a simple gesture such as an almost-tuch. Just to give you some context, the text refers to Three colours: Red, which is the last film of the "Three Colours tryology" and of Krystof Kieslowski's career. It's about a young woman who casually meets an old retired judge and, slowly, they create some kind of connection (this is a very summarized plot, but there's more to it than this). Anyway, the frame the text refers to is this one:

This is the last time Valentine, the young woman, and the judge see each other. Kieslowksi is a real master of visual storytelling, and this is a blatant exemple. This short frame converge, as the text tells us, a ralethionship which was meant to be, but never was. In a previous scene the judge says to Valentine: "maybe, I never met the woman... maybe, you're the woman I never met". This non-meeting hangs there between them, between their hands, separeted by a glass, suspended in a timeless and spaceless moment. In this void their story exists, not in the real world, but in an alternate, separeted one. Sadly, is a world of imagination, so there isn't a possibility for a concrete connection, at least in the present. Now, there's more to say about Red, but I'll stop there because I don't think you're interested in it (but if you like cosmic connection and complicated carachters, you're welcome to watch this masterpice). What I want to address here are the words of Kickasola: "the abstract nature of the shot amplifies the significance of it, suggesting love of the highest, metaphysical order", then he adds: "at the same time, the glass symbolizes a barrier: a romantic connection reached for, but impossible". I think this words are easily applied to Sauron's and Galadriel's relathionship. So, let's analyzed how their hands are shot.

In this frames their hands don't touch, but they enlace each other's arms as a sign of trust. This is the first form of connection they share, still, they keep their distance: neither of them dares to touch the other's hand, neither for a shake. So, they create a barrier.

Here, their hands touch, but there's always an object between them. Every one of this objects rapresent an idea or a desire which are important to them: hope (the simbol of the Southlands king), promises (Finrod's dagger) and power (the nine rings).

In these their hands are near, but never touch. The illusion is shattered, the promise is lost and, even if Sauron tries, he's not able to reach for Galadriel's hand.

I think is interesting that they never hold each other's hand, nor voluntary, nor involontary, nor for necessity. All their approaches are shaped first by formalities, then by ideals, finally by betrayals. Their connection happens in this space, better, in this non-space where they can hide what they feel, but will never say. Love is relegated in a place beyond phisical reach, hung in the metaphisical domain: is in the space between their arms, in the hold of Finrod's dagger, in the distance that separates their hands when Sauron try to catch her from falling. I think the last frame, more than the others, explain this. Like the one in Red, the nature of the shot is abstract, suspended in the air. The background is out of focus, their hands clearly visible. But, unlike in Kieślowski's movie, the distance here is accentuated not only by the fact that Sauron doesn't reach Galadriel, but also by how their hands are shot: they never overlap, so they can't touch neither in the metaphisical space. So is Love over, even in the abstract dimension? No, it persists, willingly or unwillingly, in the outer world, that may become visible (but still not phisical) if the theory about the bond made by Morgoth's crown is correct. This is shown by Galadriel's hand reaching for the wound = for the invisible connection:

Interestingly enough, the phisical manifestation of said love (the phisical touch) happens in an outer space, separeted from reality: in Red, it happens in a theater, the ultimate fictional realm:

in trop, this happens in an illusion, Sauron's illusion:

Like Valentine and the judge, their love can't be sustained by reality, it wolud be crushed by hopes, ideals and power, but is unlatched from reality, alive in a place that trascend time and space. They both feel it, but will they acknowledge this? Only time will tell.

With this I won't mean that their love is not real, but that is bigger than the real world they are in (regardless from their behavior and choices)

Disclaimer: this is just my interpretation of Galadriel and Sauron relationship, it can be fallacious and is not a universal truth.

[nyxshadowhawk]

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

Previous part.

Chapter 18: Of the Ruin of Beleriand and the Fall of Fingolfin In which everything goes to hell. Again.

Remember the Siege of Angband? Yeah, that’s still going on. It’s been roughly two hundred years since Morgoth’s last attack (the first appearance of Glaurung the Dragon), and in all that time, the Elves haven’t made much progress. Fingolfin, the High King of the Noldor, considers launching another assault on Angband; his people are strong, and now they have the Men on their side. What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

Fingolfin by Insant

The other Noldor are less enthused by this idea. For once, things are pretty great. Why risk the peace and prosperity that the Elves currently have for the chance at defeating Morgoth, when there’s bound to be massive loss of life either way? Only the Elven lords who live in the far north — on Morgoth’s doorstep — agree with Fingolfin, since they can’t ignore Morgoth as easily. They’re shot down by everyone else, so, there’s peace for a little while longer.

That’s when Morgoth makes his move.

Morgoth has been steadily gathering his forces throughout all of that time, and he’s also grown more and more spiteful. He doesn’t just want to defeat the Noldor, he wants to defile their homeland. But his hatred has also made him impatient.

One winter, on a dark night, without any warning, rivers of lava suddenly come pouring down the Thangorodrim, which belch poisonous gases into the air, rendering the whole plain of Ard-galen a barren wasteland overnight. Also, unlike with natural volcanoes, the damage is permanent — Ard-galen becomes known as Angfauglith, which means “Gasping Dust.” Instant Mordor, Just Add Lava. Many poor Elves are swallowed up by the lava before they can react.

As if that weren’t bad enough, Glaurung returns, accompanied by Balrogs and entire armies of Orcs — more Orcs than the Noldor have ever previously seen. The ensuing battle lasts all winter, as Morgoth’s forces return fire on the Noldor. It becomes known as Dagor Bragollach, the Battle of Sudden Flame.

Battle of Sudden Flame by Jovan Delic

There are many casualties. Angrod and Aegnor, the brothers of Finrod and Galadriel, both die in the battle. Finrod himself gets cut off in the Fen of Serech, and almost dies, but he’s rescued at the last minute by a Man named Barahir. Finrod escapes with his life, barely, and manages to make it back to his palace in Nargothrond. Finrod pledges undying friendship to Barahir, promises to help him and his family in return if they should ever need him, and gives him his ring as a token of his promise. It’s a ring shaped like two intertwined snakes, set with green stones, and it becomes known as the Ring of Barahir.

Finrod in the Fen of Serech by pansen1802

Incredibly, Fingolfin and co. manage to hang on to their land of Hithlum, but not without heavy losses. Hador Lórindol, one of the Kings of Men who was Fingolfin’s thane, dies in the battle. In the East, Fëanor’s sons aren’t doing great, either — Celegorm and Curufin are both defeated, but not killed; they retreat all the way to Nargothrond and hide there with Finrod. Caranthir’s land is ravaged, too.

Maedhros, however, “burned like a white fire.” He’s been dying to get his revenge on Morgoth for having strung him up on Thangorodrim, and personally slaughters so many Orcs that they start to run in fear of him. He manages to hang on to his fortress, and many people rally to him, including his brother Maglor.

Finrod, Fingon, and Maedhros by star热爱生活呀巴扎嘿

Overall, the battle is really bad. Fingolfin stares out over the ruined lands, sees his family scattered, and realizes the Noldor are done for. He’s filled with rage and despair, but he isn’t ready to give up yet. There’s only one thing to do. He mounts his horse, Rochallor, and rides straight to the gates of Angband. Those who see him think he must be Oromë, the Vala of the hunt, because he burns with fury and his eyes glow. He blows his warhorn, bangs on the gates of Angband, and challenges Morgoth himself to a duel.

That may be the ballsiest move of any Elf so far (and yes, I’m counting Fëanor going up against an army of Balrogs).

Fingolfin’s Challenge by Jenny Dolfen

Now, throughout all this, Morgoth has spent most of his time hiding in his fortress. Sure, he’s a Vala, and technically the most powerful being in Middle-earth, but he doesn’t fight his own battles. Fingolfin calls him a coward who’d rather send out all of his evil minions to fight for him than come and face him like a man. Morgoth can’t ignore that. So, to the surprise of everyone, Morgoth actually comes. And we get this badass description, which I’m going to transcribe, because I can’t do Tolkien justice:

Therefore Morgoth came, climbing slowly from his subterranean throne, and the rumour of his feet was like thunder underground. And he issued forth clad in black armour; and he stood before the King like a tower, iron-crowned, and his vast shield, sable-blazoned, cast a shadow over him like a stormcloud. But Fingolfin gleamed beneath it as a star; for his mail was overlaid with silver, and his blue shield was set with crystals; and he drew his sword Ringil, that glittered like ice.

Oh, it is on!

Fingolfin vs. Morgoth by Marchesi

The Fall of Fingolfin by Wavesheep

The battle is epic. Morgoth tries to smash Fingolfin with his hammer, called Grond (GROND! GROND! GROND! GROND!), but Fingolfin is too quick. Every time GROND hits the earth, it creates a volcanic cleft in the earth. The battle is compared to a thunderstorm, with the strikes of Morgoth’s hammer being the thunder and Fingolfin darting around being the lightning. Fingolfin actually manages to wound Morgoth, seven times! Each time, Morgoth howls so loud that all of the Orcs cringe in fear.

Fingolfin can’t keep it up forever, though. He’s mortal, and he’s going up against something near to a god. Three times, Morgoth crushes him with his shield, and three times Fingolfin is able to pick himself back up again. He doesn’t have much space to move anymore, because the ground around him is full of holes. He stumbles and falls, and Morgoth presses his foot to Fingolfin’s neck. It’s like getting an entire hill dropped on top of him. Fingolfin isn’t going to go peacefully, though — with his last bit of strength, he cuts deep into Morgoth’s foot.

Fingolfin dies, and thus passes the strongest and most valiant of the Elven kings. The Elves are so sad to lose him that they don’t even sing about the battle. The Orcs don’t gloat about it, either, even though Morgoth won — it was kind of a Pyrrhic victory, because it’s embarrassing that a mere mortal was able to do so much damage to Morgoth. The reason why we know what happened, despite the lack of songs about it, is because Thorondor (the King of the Eagles) brings the news to Gondolin and Hithlum.

Thorondor also saves Fingolfin’s body from being desecrated by Morgoth. Morgoth goes to throw Fingolfin’s corpse to the wolves, but Thorondor swoops down and claws him in the face. Thorondor brings Fingolfin’s body to Gondolin, and Turgon builds a cairn for his father in the surrounding hills. For a while, Fingolfin’s tomb acts almost like a charm that keeps the Orcs away. (But not forever though. Because, in case you forgot, Gondolin is doomed.)

Morgoth’s wounds are permanent. His seven initial wounds never heal, he now limps everywhere he goes because Fingolfin damaged his foot, and his face is also scarred where Thorondor got him.

All of Hithlum mourns Fingolfin’s death. Fingon, in his grief, becomes the sole High King of the Noldor.

Fingon by Moimq

There’s an interesting note here: Fingon sends “his young son Ereinion (who was later named Gil-galad) […] to the Havens.” This is an outright inconsistency. In other sources, Gil-galad is the grandson of Angrod, Finrod’s brother. So, it’s legitimately unclear who Gil-galad’s father was. Oh well. Distant legendary past, oral tradition and all that. I’m sure the songs disagree on whose parents are whose all the time.

And, the “Havens” referred to here aren’t the Grey Havens, either. They’re two cities in the southwest of Beleriand. But they’re ruled by the same Elf, Círdan, who would rule the Grey Havens later.

Morgoth is now in control of most of northern Beleriand. Barahir, the Man who helped save Finrod, keeps fighting for some time, alongside his wife Emeldir. But Morgoth destroys their land little by little. That land becomes so dark and evil that even Orcs avoid it, and it gets a new name: Taur-nu-Fuin, “The Forest under Nightshade” (which is cool as hell). This forest is like a proto-Mirkwood. Its trees become tangled with claw-like roots and branches, and it becomes full of angry spirits that can drive travelers mad.

The situation gets so dire that Emeldir leads her people away. They end up in the Forest of Brethil, which is where Haleth, another badass warrior-queen of Men, led her people in a similar moment of desperation. All of Barahir’s men are killed fighting Morgoth except for a small handful (whose names are all listed, of course). The Elves don’t come to help them, so they become desperate, hunted outcasts who live in the wilderness. One of these outcasts is Beren, Barahir’s son, who’s about to become very important.

The Elves managed to maintain control over Minas Tirith, the tower that guards the pass separating Morgoth’s lands in the north from the rest of Beleriand. This tower is maintained by Orodreth, Angrod’s son and Finrod’s nephew. But after two years pass, the tower is besieged by Morgoth’s lieutenant, Sauron.

Sauron by Wavesheep

(Oh yeah I’ve been waiting to dip into my self-indulgent collection of Sauron pictures.)

At this point, the Elves call Sauron “Gorthaur the Cruel.” He has become…

a sorcerer of dreadful power, master of shadows and of phantoms, foul in wisdom, cruel in strength, misshaping what he touched, twisting what he ruled; his dominion was torment.

He’s basically like Morgoth 2.0, and there’s very little left of him that is still Mairon, the Maia smith that he once was. Still, Sauron and Morgoth aren’t interchangeable; while Sauron is certainly very evil, he doesn’t think the same way that Morgoth does. If you’re familiar with the D&D alignment chart, Morgoth is pure Chaotic Evil — he doesn’t have a motive beyond fucking things up as much as possible. Sauron is more Lawful Evil, more like an evil dictator. Morgoth wants to watch the world burn (and just did, a moment ago); Sauron wants to rule over the ashes.

Sauron’s assault on Minas Tirith is successful. (If Sauron had a nickel for every time he besieged a tower called Minas Tirith, he’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.) He conjures a cloud of pure terror that causes Orodreth and his men to panic, and flee to Narthothrond. Then, much like Sauron would corrupt Minas Ithil and Osgiliath eons later, he transforms Minas Tirith into an evil watchtower. Tol Sirion, the island where it’s located, becomes known as Tol-in-Gaurhoth, the Isle of Werewolves.

Lord of Werewolves by Dracontessa

After that, things only get worse. The Orcs spread across Beleriand, kidnapping Elves and desecrating all the land around Doriath. Morgoth sends out a bunch of spies to sow discord in every kingdom, hoping to win a psychological battle. Because of the Curse, most of the Noldor believe the sugary lies. The dirtiest trick that Morgoth pulls is setting free some of the Elves that he took captive, while keeping them under his control. This causes the Noldor to distrust even their own families.

With Men, Morgoth tries a different tactic. He attempts to turn them against the Elves by pointing out that the Men are inferior to Elves, and that the Noldor are inherently untrustworthy and untrusting. He promises the Men that if they come and join him, “the rightful Lord of Middle-earth,” then they’ll have honor and rewards and yada, yada. The Men don’t fall for this, which makes Morgoth even more spiteful towards them.

The Three Great Houses of Men are in complete disarray at this point. The house of Bëor —Barahir and his people — is basically destroyed, with the remainder barely surviving in the wilderness. The House of Hador are all stuck in Hithlum, and Hador himself is dead. The only remaining Men in the rest of Beleriand are the house of Haleth — the Haladin — who live in the Forest of Brethil. They’re one of the last lines of defense between Nargothrond and Morgoth’s onslaught. Hador’s grandsons, Húrin and Huor, are camped out in the Forest of Brethil with the Haladin. Halmir, the current leader of the Haladin, sends for backup, and a small army of Sindar Elves from Doriath come to help defend the forest. With the Elves’ help, the Men drive back the Orcs.

Húrin and Huor are some of our major players among the Men. They’re brothers, and they’re currently teenagers. Back before the battle, their father married Halmir’s daughter, so they’re members of the Haladin on their mom’s side. During the battle, they are separated from the rest of their company, but Ulmo protects them with a magical mist from the River Sirion, and then Thorondor rescues them when they wander near his mountains. Thorondor sends two eagles to pick them up, and the eagles bring them to Gondolin. Húrin and Huor become the first Men to ever see the secret Elven city of Gondolin.

By Mysilvergreen

King Turgon receives them well. He’d gotten a prophetic dream from Ulmo, telling him he’ll need the Men’s help when things get bad, so he takes them in as his honored guests. Húrin and Huor live in the mystical Elven city for a year, and they learn a lot from Turgon in that time. Turgon wants to keep them in Gondolin, not just because of his proclaimation that no one can ever leave it, but also because he genuinely loves them. Eventually, though, they want to go home.

Remember how well that went the last time, with Aredhel?

Húrin reminds Turgon that Men don’t live very long, so he and his brother can’t just wait until things cool off, especially with their family thinking they’re dead. Also, they were carried into the city by eagles, so they have no idea where the entrance is and probably couldn’t find it again on their own. Turgon thinks that this is reasonable, and agrees to let them go, so long as Thorondor is willing to let them leave the way they came, by eagle-taxi.

But Maeglin — remember him? He’s the edgy Elf — Maeglin is happy that Húrin and Huor are leaving, because they’ve been soaking up all the king’s attention. Maeglin snidely tells Húrin that Turgon wasn’t so lenient in the past, like that time he threw Maeglin’s father off the walls.

To pacify Maeglin, Húrin and Huor swear an oath not to reveal anything about Gondolin. As you’ve probably gathered by now, oaths are serious business. I almost guarantee that this is going to bite them in the ass.

When Húrin and Huor return home, their family is overjoyed to see them, because they all thought that the brothers had died in the wilderness. Their father, Galdor, asks where they’ve been, and why they look like princes instead of like they’ve been living in the wilderness for a year. Húrin tells him that the only reason they were allowed to return at all was if they swore not to speak about it, so… don’t ask.

Meanwhile, King Turgon learns that the Siege of Angband is officially over, and Morgoth killed Fingolfin. Turgon doesn’t want to involve himself in the war, at least not yet — Gondolin is a secret safe haven for now, and he wants it to stay that way for as long as possible. It’s like the Wakanda of Elven cities.

However, Turgon also realizes that this is the beginning of the end for the Noldor, unless they can find some outside source of help. He sends secret bands of Gondolin Elves to sail to Valinor. That’s a truly desperate move, since the Noldor are exiles, and Valinor has wanted nothing to do with Middle-earth for centuries. Unfortunately, none of Turgon’s emissaries make it; the western sea has become much more dangerous ever since Valinor cut itself off. The sea is full of enchantments and illusions, and Valinor itself is hidden. There’s no way to get to it. With every failed mission, Gondolin’s doom inches closer and closer.

Guess who hears about it? Morgoth. Morgoth is very interested to know what happened to Finrod and Turgon, because Elven kings don’t just vanish off the face of the earth. He knows they must be somewhere, probably plotting a new scheme to take him down. He knows what Nargothrond is, but not where it is, and he knows nothing about Gondolin. In the Battle of Sudden Flame, he made the mistake of underestimating the strength of the Elves and Men. Although he won the battle, they managed to hit him back just as badly. He’s not about to make that mistake again.

Morgoth attacks Hithlum again. King Fingon is outnumbered, but rescued at the last minute by ships full of warriors sent by Círdan. The Elves win the battle, but King Galdor, Húrin and Huor’s father, dies in the same spot where his own father fell during the Battle of Sudden Flame. Húrin becomes the new patriarch of his house, and serves as Fingon’s thane. He marries Morwen Eledhwen, a woman of the house of Bëor, who fled the Forest under Nightshade for the Forest of Brethil alongside Queen Emeldir.

Húrin by Steamey

The House of Bëor is by this point reduced to only one man, Emeldir and Barahir’s son, Beren.

Chapter 19: Of Beren and Lúthien, Part One In which we hear the greatest love story ever told.

This is the first of what Tolkien called “The Great Tales,” some of the oldest stories in the Legendarium, all of which were ultimately unfinished. To put into perspective just what a big deal this story is, Tolkien and his wife Edith have the names “Beren” and “Lúthien” written on their respective headstones. The version here in the Silmarillion is the most complete, but it’s also an abridged version. This is how Tolkien introduces it:

Among the tales of sorrow and of ruin that come down to us from the darkness of those days there are yet some in which amid weeping there is joy and under the shadow of death light that endures. And of these histories most fair still in the ears of the Elves is the tale of Beren and Lúthien.

Most of my retelling here is paraphrased from the Silmarillion, but I’ve included some details that appear only in the Lay of Leithian, Tolkien’s unfinished poetic telling of the story. It’s really worth going and reading the Lay of Leithian; it’s extremely vivid and evocative, it perfectly imitates the medieval poetic form.

The story doesn’t actually start with Beren. It starts with an account of what happened to Barahir and his remaining men after they fled the Forest under Nightshade. They ended up camping out beside a lake called Tarn Aeluin, which is beautiful and reflects the stars. It was supposedly blessed by Queen Melian, and her magic repels the evil creatures that took over the rest of the forest. Barahir and co. are well hidden there, but Morgoth commands Sauron to find them.

One of Barahir’s people is a man named Gorlim, who has a wife, Eilinel. They love each other even despite the war, but when Gorlim returned home one day after a battle, he found his house empty and Eilinel gone. He still follows his people and hides out near the lake, but he holds out hope that maybe his wife isn’t dead. He periodically leaves the secret safe haven and returns to the empty house, hoping that his wife will be there. One time, he sees the lights on and hears her voice, but it’s a trap — Sauron found him. Sauron tortures Gorlim to force him to reveal the location of Barahir’s secret camp, but Gorlim holds out. That is, until Sauron tells him to name his price. Gorlim asks to see his wife again.

Then Sauron smiled, saying, “That is a small price for so great a treachery. So shall it surely be. Say on!”

Poor Gorlim reveals the location of Barahir’s camp. Then, with a mocking laugh, Sauron reveals that Eilinel is dead, and that he cast an illusion to ensnare him. “Oh, but don’t worry, I’ll still send you to her,” he says, and then kills him. They don’t call him Gorthaur the Cruel for nothing.

By @ayaosguqin

See, this is one of the things that makes Sauron different from Morgoth. Morgoth is spiteful and enjoys sewing discord and causing destruction for the sake of it, but we haven’t seen this kind of calculated sadism from him yet. (There’s not much that’s subtle about busting in with a giant spider and killing trees.) Sauron, having been a Maia of Aulë, has an appreciation for subtlety and craftsmanship. Sauron likes to stick the knife in and twist it. And as The Lord of the Rings makes clear, he’s a master of psychological warfare.

Now that Sauron knows where the secret camp is, his forces attack the men at Tarn Aeluin. They massacre everyone, save Beren. Beren is out on a spy mission when the Orcs attack, and he has a dream in which Gorlim’s ghost appears to him to tell him what happened. Beren rides back, but it’s already too late. He finds his father and everyone else dead.

Beren builds a cairn for his father and swears vengeance. He hunts down all the Orcs, slaughtering them by himself. He sneaks near their camp, where they’re gloating and holding up his father’s hand as a trophy. On the severed hand is a ring, the ring that Finrod Felagund gave to Barahir. Beren swoops in, steals the hand with the ring, and runs off before the Orcs have a chance to react.

Beren lives by himself in the wilderness for some time. He befriends the animals, and becomes a vegetarian as a result. He manages to perform many heroic deeds just in that time, so that he becomes famous. He’s already such a legend that Morgoth puts a price on his head, just as high as that of King Fingon himself, but the Orcs are so afraid of Beren that they avoid him instead of hunting him. Morgoth resolves to send an entire army after Beren, and not just any army — an army of werewolves, captained by Sauron himself.

The werewolves are enough to chase Beren away from the land where he buried his father. He heads south, towards Doriath. He resolves to pass through Queen Melian’s magic wall, for some reason. (Maybe because it’s the only guaranteed safe place?) He travels along sheer mountain cliffs, and through the spider-infested wastes that had been twisted by a combination of Sauron’s magic and Melian’s magic. That land was basically the Mordor of its day, and no one knows how Beren got through it; whatever he experienced there was terrifying enough that he never spoke of it again. When he arrives at the magic wall, he passes right through like it isn’t even there. This event had been predicted by Melian herself: ‘because the power of that Man’s destiny will overcome her own. People will sing about that event until the distant future, when Middle-earth is unrecognizable.’

He finds himself in the north of Doriath, a forest called Neldoreth. He’s exhausted and harrowed, having spent years traveling through a cursed land. But everything in Neldoreth is beautiful, it’s summertime, and Beren sees a beautiful Elf maiden dancing on the grass. It’s Lúthien, the daughter of King Thingol and Queen Melian themselves. Lúthien is the most beautiful person alive. (Like, metaphysically.) Being the child of a Maia, she is more or less a demigoddess.

Encounter of Beren and Lúthien by Elena Kukanova

Beren is instantly smitten. In fact, he’s literally enchanted by her — just watching her casts a spell on him. When she suddenly vanishes, he literally can’t speak. He wanders the woods like an animal, searching for her. He doesn’t know her name, so he calls her Tinúviel, which means “Nightingale” in Sindarin. A whole year passes, and he sees her in the beauty of nature around him, like she’s a ghost and he’s fondly recalling her memory. A whole winter later, she reappears, and sings a song so beautiful that it brings spring back to the woods:

Keen, heart-piercing was her song as the song of the lark that rises from the gates of night and pours its voice among the dying stars, seeing the sun behind the walls of the world; and the song of Lúthien released the bonds of winter, and the frozen waters spoke, and flowers sprang from the cold earth where her feet had passed.

When he hears her song, Beren can suddenly speak again. He calls out to her, using the name “Tinúviel.” Luckily for him, Lúthien falls just as in love with him upon seeing him. The narrator says that “doom fell upon her” as soon as she loved him back, which could mean either that she met her destiny or that she is going to die for her love. Probably both.

Beren goes to embrace her, but she vanishes again as soon as day breaks. Beren immediately feels a mixture of ecstasy and anguish. He falls into a coma, and has nightmares about groping through the dark to find the

vanished light. (I’m starting to note parallels between Lúthien and the Two Trees, and also the Silmarils.) But Beren’s anguish is nothing to Lúthien’s. Now that she’s fallen in love with a mortal, her fate is inextricably intertwined with his. She’s no longer free.

Lúthien returns to Beren and wakes him from his coma. They walk through the woods together, blissfully in love, throughout that spring and summer. Presumably they talk and actually get to know each other in that time.

A sudden in love by breath-art and aglargon

There’s another person who loves Lúthien, an Elven bard named Daeron. He spies on Beren and Lúthien in the woods. Jealous that Lúthien loves Beren instead of him, he goes and tattles to Thingol about their relationship. (In the Lay of Leithian, Daeron — in his envy — is able to cast a spell of silence upon Beleriand, so that there is no music or even birdsong.) Thingol is immediately furious, because he’s extremely overprotective of his daughter, and he hates Men. He confronts Lúthien about her new boyfriend, but she refuses to say anything until Thingol promises that he won’t hurt or imprison Beren. Lúthien personally leads him before her father’s throne.

Beren and Luthien in the Court of Thingol by Donato Giancola

Thingol demands to know who Beren is, but he’s so intimidating that Beren is stunned into silence. Lúthien answers for him. Thingol tells Lúthien to back off and let Beren speak for himself. What’s Beren’s excuse for entering the forbidden realm of Doriath? Beren’s response is very poetic and eloquent, but basically boils down to “I want to fuck your daughter.”

There’s pin-drop silence in the hall as the assembled Elves wait for Thingol to smite Beren. Thingol immediately regrets his promise not to harm him. Thingol’s response is to fold his hands, smile coldly, and say,

(I mean, it’s not these exact words, but it’s close enough.)

Thingol accuses Beren of being a spy and a thrall of Morgoth, at which Beren takes offense. Beren isn’t afraid of death, but he won’t allow himself to be insulted by any Elf, even a king. His father was a lord of Men and he deserves to be treated like a prince! He has a ring given to his father by Finrod himself, for Eru’s sake! He holds up the ring, and all the Elves see it. This is the Ring of Barahir, which will eventually get passed down to Aragorn. The jewels set in it were originally cut by the Noldor in Valinor itself.

Melian whispers to her husband that he won’t be the one to kill Beren. Beren has a lot more stuff he’s destined to do, but his destiny is still intertwined with Thingol’s. Whatever Thingol does next will seal his own fate, too. Thingol proceeds to choose the stupidest thing possible.

Beren wants to marry the Faerie King’s daughter. So, as is common in fairy tales, Thingol sets him an impossible task that he must complete to earn Lúthien’s hand: He must steal a Silmaril from the crown of Morgoth. Thingol feels like this the nearest thing to a fair price for his daughter. Of course, like most mythological kings, he’s hoping that Beren will die in the attempt.

You can just hear Melian’s facepalm through the page.

As is hopefully clear by now, the Silmarils are like a bomb waiting to go off. Everything about them is fraught — from the fact that they contain the last light of the Trees, to Morgoth’s obsession with them, to the Curse laid on all Fëanor’s sons for their unbreakable oath to get them back, etc. etc. Thingol’s choice to get involved in that shitshow was a dumb fucking idea. It’s not really his place to say or do anything concerning the Silmarils, and he effectively dooms his own kingdom by involving himself with them. In fact, by doing so, Thingol subjects himself to the same Curse that affects all the Noldor — you know, the reason he banished them from his kingdom and banned their language in the first place.

But that’s getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s get back to Beren, who responds to this by literally laughing it off and calling it easy:

“For little price,” he said, “do Elven-kings sell their daughters: for gems, and things made by craft. But if this be your will, Thingol, then I will perform it. And when we meet again my hand shall hold a Silmaril from the Iron Crown; for you have not looked the last on Beren son of Barahir.”

I like the parallelism here: Both Beren and Sauron call something that’s extraordinarily valuable to someone else a “little price” or “small price.” Obviously, we’re supposed to side with Beren in this instance, but I wonder if his pride will be his fall.

Having received his main quest, Beren leaves Menegroth.

Menegroth by David Gresit

Melian tells Thingol what an idiot he is for involving himself in the Main Plot and forsaking his kingdom’s safety in isolation. She can’t protect him from whatever happens next. Thingol is pretty confident that Beren’s going to die, which proves that he’s not Genre Savvy enough to make good decisions from here on out. He should really listen to his wife.

Lúthien doesn’t quite enter “but Daddy, I love him!” territory, but she does stop singing. All of Doriath is eerily silent.

Beren travels west, towards the River Sirion, and then to Nargothrond. Being alone and with no resources, he doesn’t have any other option but to go to Finrod for help. He wisely holds up the Ring of Barahir as he enters Finrod’s territory, because it was originally Finrod’s ring, and his Elf snipers would know not to shoot. Knowing that he was being watched by an army’s worth of hidden Elves, he randomly yells out “I am Beren son of Barahir! Take me to your King!” in the middle of a field in the hopes that someone will hear him and decide not to kill him. After doing this several times, he’s apprehended by the archers and taken to Finrod.

Finrod receives Beren warmly. Privately, Beren tells Finrod about his father’s death and about meeting Lúthien. He cries more over remembering Lúthien than remembering his father. Remember, Finrod promised to help Barahir or any member of his family in need, because they had saved him. So, he has no choice but to help Beren retrieve a Silmaril, even though he knows it will not go well.

Finrod by yidanyuan

He tells Beren, ‘Well, it’s obvious that Thingol wants you dead, but if anyone so much as mentions the Silmarils, the sons of Fëanor are on them like a pack of wolves. Celegorm and Curufin are powerful lords in my court, and I can’t risk antagonizing them. If they find out you want a Silmaril, they’ll kill you. But I made a promise to your father, so I have to help you. In short, we’re all screwed.’

For some reason, Finrod decides that the best thing to do is to be as transparent as possible. So, he summons his court and stands before his people. He tells them all about the promise he made to Barahir, and how he is therefore obligated to help Beren. He asks his lords for help. Celegorm’s response is predictable. He repeats the Oath of Fëanor, reaffirming that the sons of Fëanor will hunt down anything alive that dares to seek a Silmaril. He goes on a tirade as impassioned as the one that Fëanor originally gave to the Noldor back in Valinor. (Like father, like son, I guess.) Then Curufin speaks, more quietly. What he says boils down to: ‘Nice kingdom you’ve got here, Finrod. Would really be a shame if something happened to it.’

Celegorm and Curufin, by Julia Reizen

Curufin’s speech scares the Elves of Nargothrond so much that they avoid open war for decades, preferring guerilla warfare with arrows, poisoned darts, and magic. According to Tolkien, this is less valorous than open combat, and diminishes their whole society.

Say what you will about Fëanor and his brood, they’re damn good at public speaking.

The Elves of Nargothrond begin to murmur amongst themselves that Finrod can’t tell them what to do as though he’s a Vala (even though he’s… y’know… the king), and all of them refuse to help him. The Curse is in full effect: Celegorm and Curufin realize that this is a golden opportunity to send Finrod alone to his death, and take over Nargothrond for themselves.

Finrod reads the room. He takes off his crown, and throws it at his feet, renouncing his rulership of the kingdom that he built. He looks directly at Celegorm and Curufin and tells them that while they may be faithless bastards who will break their oath of loyalty to him, he will not break his own promise to Barahir. He addresses the rest of the room — there’s got to be at least a few people who haven’t been affected by the Curse, and who will follow him, so that he isn’t pathetically driven out of his own kingdom. Right? A grand total of ten people stand up for him. One of them, Edrahil, picks up Finrod’s crown, and says that it should be given to a steward instead of being left for Celegorm and Curufin to snatch. Whatever happens, he says, Finrod is still the true king of Nargothrond. #IStandWithFinrod.

Finrod chooses Orodreth, his nephew (or youngest brother; sources differ), as his steward. Celegorm and Curufin just smile and withdraw from the room, which isn’t creepy at all.

Finrod and Beren leave Nargothrond with their ten loyalists. They travel north, come upon a band of Orcs, and kill them all. Finrod uses a magical illusion to disguise his company as Orcs, and they sneak through the mountain pass towards Angband. Sauron finds them anyway, and intercepts them. Sauron and Finrod engage in — of all things — a singing competition. It’s very similar in principle to “the oldest game” from Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman, in that it’s a battle between dueling concepts that are instantaneously manifested as the singers describe them. Sauron sings about treachery, betrayal, uncovering secrets, piercing through things, and sorcery. Finrod answers with a song about resistance against evil, keeping secrets, maintaining trust, standing strong, and gaining freedom.

Finrod and Sauron by rami-fon-verg

There is something simple, almost childish, about this back-and-forth. I feel like I’ve seen several different children’s shows in which a good character and an evil character sing at each other instead of fighting, with the evil character extoling the virtues of power and the good character singing about the importance of love. (The one that comes to mind is Barbie and the Diamond Castle, in which the two heroines and the villain play good/evil music at each other, and the good music overpowers the evil music, resulting in the villain’s defeat.) I wouldn’t be surprised if several anime have a scene like this, as well. And yet, it is primordially powerful, like Gaiman’s “oldest game.” In Tolkien’s universe, singing was what created the world in the first place, and singing is therefore a direct and powerful means of manifestation.

By Wavesheep

Unfortunately, it does not end the way it would if this were a Barbie movie or an anime. Finrod is a great singer, but Sauron is better — he is a Maia, one of the Ainur, meaning he was there when the original Music of creation was sung. It’s impressive that Finrod manages to hold out as long as he does, but in the end — much like Fingolfin and Fëanor before him — he loses.

To tell this part of the story, Tolkien randomly switches to verse; he quotes a section from the Lay of Leithian. Medieval texts actually do this; lots of them will randomly switch between prose and verse. Texts that do this are called “prosimetric.” For example, in the Volsung Saga (which reads very much like The Silmarillion), when Sigurd meets Brynhild, the text abruptly switches into verse as she lists all the different types of runes and their uses. There’s several other instances in that text when it randomly switches between prose and verse. It prefaces the verse parts with something like, “So saith the song of Sigurd,” referencing poetic versions of the same story that otherwise don’t survive. Tolkien evokes that same structure here, right down to saying “as it is told in the Lay of Leithian.”

The Lord of the Rings is prosimetric, too, but most of the songs are diegetic, meaning they’re actually being sung by characters in-universe. That’s not what’s going on here. The verse part describes the singing contest between Sauron and Finrod, it’s not the actual songs that they’re singing. But it’s really clever of Tolkien to switch to verse to describe this scene, because it sets the vibe! It’s like you’re listening to a distant echo of their songs, passed down through generations of oral storytelling. It wouldn’t be nearly as evocative if he just described the scene flatly in prose.

Thank you for indulging me in that tangent! Moving on: Sauron throws Finrod and co. into a dark pit, and threatens to kill them if they don’t tell them who they are and why they’re there. Periodically, he sends a werewolf to eat one of them (which, I’ll bet you anything, is a direct reference to the Volsung Saga). Still, none of them talk.

Meanwhile, back in Doriath, Lúthien intuitively senses that something is wrong, and asks her mother what has happened to Beren. Melian tells her that Beren is in Sauron’s dungeon. Lúthien resolves to go and rescue him by herself. She goes to ask Daeron for his help, but Daeron refuses to risk his own neck for Beren’s sake. He’s been afflicted with full-on incel syndrome, so out of spite, he snitches to Thingol a second time. (Thingol is so grateful that Daeron keeps tabs on his daughter for him, that he names Daeron a prince. Make of that what you will.) Thingol can’t imagine anything worse than letting his daughter waste away in a dark pit, so he builds a house in a giant beech tree, called Hírilorn. Because the best way to keep your daughter safe from one prison is to put her in another! Logic!

Well, it’s a common trope in myths and fairy tales: The king is overprotective of his daughter and puts her in a tower, or a box with a hole in the roof, or some such. Lúthien, however, is proactive. She doesn’t wait for someone to rescue her from her treehouse. Instead, she tricks her guards and Daeron into sending her a golden bowl of wine, a silver bowl of water, a spinning wheel, and a loom. Then she sings a spell that mentions all the tallest and longest things in the world, which causes her hair to grow extremely long. She mixes the wine with the water, then sings a song of day over the golden bowl, and a song of night over the silver bowl. Finally, she sings a song of sleep. The singing enchants her hair, filling it with corresponding ideas that shape the way Lúthien wants it to behave. (Similar to Sauron and Finrod’s magic songs, singing about an idea causes it to manifest.) She weaves a robe out of her hair, a robe that’s described as being misty and shadowy, like it’s woven from clouds at night. Lúthien weaves a rope out of what’s leftover, and puts a sleeping spell on it. Then she just throws it down onto the guards at the foot of the tree, and they go to sleep, allowing her to climb down the rope and escape.

Lúthien prepares her escape from Hírilorn by Anke Katrin Eißmann

As she leaves Doriath, she comes upon Celegorm and Curufin, of all people. They’re out hunting, hoping to learn something about what happened to Finrod (and probably plotting behind his back the whole time). Among their hunting dogs is a particularly large wolfhound called Huan, who actually came with them from Valinor. Oromë himself, the Vala of the hunt, gave the dog to Celegorm long ago. Huan loyally followed Celegorm into exile, and therefore became automatically subject to the Curse. He’s foretold to die, but only after he faces the biggest and baddest of big bad wolves.

Spoiler alert, the dog’s gonna die!

Huan finds Lúthien, because he’s immune to her enchantments, and brings her to Celegorm. Once she learns that Celegorm and Curufin are enemies of Morgoth, Lúthien decides that she trusts them, and reveals herself to them. Celegorm (or, in the Lay, Curufin) instantly falls in love with her, because… of course he does. He offers to help Lúthien, making a point not to say that he already knows about the quest. Lúthien goes with them to Nargothrond.

Celegorm and Curufin find Lúthien by Elena Kukanova

As soon as they get there, Celegorm and Curufin show their true colors. They imprison Lúthien, take away her magic cloak, and forbid her to speak to anyone else but them. Lúthien escaped one trap, and fell right into another. Now that the brothers know from Lúthien that Finrod and Beren are in Sauron’s prison, they figure that it’s easiest to just let them die. Nargothrond is as good as theirs. And now that they have Lúthien, they have leverage over Thingol — they can force him to give Lúthien’s hand in marriage to Celegorm. That would make Celegorm and Curufin the most powerful princes of the Noldor! [Insert evil laugh here.]

Huan, however, is the Goodest Boy and is too pure-hearted to follow Celegorm (even though Celegorm is his beloved master whom he’s been serving for literally centuries). Huan also fell in love with Lúthien upon seeing her for the first time, but in a decidedly less creepy way. He comes to her prison every night to keep her company, and Lúthien tells him all about Beren.

Huan decides to help Lúthien break out. He brings her magic cloak to her, and speaks to her (he’s only allowed to talk three times before he dies). He shows her a secret passage out of Nargothrond, and they escape together. Huan even swallows his pride enough to allow Lúthien to ride on his back.

Lúthien riding on Huan by Meraclitus

I mean, if you’re gonna be a damsel in distress, a dog is a pretty awesome thing to be rescued by.

(Stopping there, because I'm running up against the max number of images. More to come!)

[demonscantgothere]

Helholden's Masterlist of Haladriel Fics:

I have written dozens of fics for The Rings of Power, featuring Haladriel, under the pen name Helholden, so here is a nice, neat masterlist of all of them in one place.

Epic Multi-chapters:

❀ Litost. Canon-divergence fic set decades after the events of S1 & S2. Sauron thrives in Númenor as the High Priest when Galadriel is taken prisoner, and they are reunited on the eve of disaster. Together, they re-establish themselves in Pelargir, creating Gondor with the help of Elendil and his Men, but deceit and lies run deep and the truth will out. 276k. Ongoing.

❀ Beasts of the Hill and Serpents of the Den. Alternate Universe set in the First Age. The War of Wrath changes course. Instead of sending his wolves out to kill Finrod after capturing Felagund in his dungeons, Sauron demands an exchange for his life. Galadriel offers herself. 214k. Ongoing.

❀ Though the Gods and the Years Relent, Shall Be. After the final Breaking of the World when existence is remade by its creator Eru Ilúvatar, second chances are possible. Artanis meets Mairon and keeps coming by to visit him throughout the years. They develop a fast friendship, but it is hard to remain just friends. 25k. Complete.

❀ The Greatest Slavery. Dead Dove. Celeborn is Sauron's prisoner. If Galadriel wants her husband returned to her alive, there are terms. Many years later, Sauron comes back for his daughter, Celebrían. 48k. Complete.

❀ Symbiosis. Modern AU. Galadriel goes out drinking after a bad breakup, and Halbrand shows up to put all the pieces back together. 77k. Complete.

Completed One-shots and Short Stories:

❀ In the Golden Vein of All Your Broken Promises. It's a threesome fic with Galadriel, Annatar, and Celeborn. Pure smut. 15k.

❀ Jewel Spoilt. A tale inspired by The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty with Galadriel as Beauty and Sauron as the one to break the curse Morgoth has lain upon her. 15k.

❀ Crown, and Caress Thee, and Chain. Galadriel says yes, becoming his Dark Queen. Sauron transmutes her into a god in the fires of Mount Doom instead of creating the One Ring. 11k.

❀ Maybe You Were the Ocean, When I Was Just a Stone. A series of one-shots written for RoP Week 2023 featuring various relationships. 11k.

❀ À Côté de la Plaque. Another threesome fic, only this time it's Galadriel, Halbrand, and Bronwyn with a surprise entrance from Arondir. 10k.

❀ Light Weight. A story of Mairon and Artanis told in seven parts, spanning over thousands of years from their very first meeting in Valinor to the Sundering Seas — a tale of touch, obsession, and addiction. 9k.

❀ Heart of Gold. They bang on Celebrimbor's large anvil table, Your Honor. 6k.

❀ An Inexorable Fate. My very first Haladriel fic ever written that started all of this. Halbrand struggles to tell Galadriel how he feels after the eruption of Mount Doom. 5k.

❀ Abundance. Written for an anonymous tumblr prompt that wanted a take on Halbrand’s reaction to seeing Galadriel in the green dress in Eregion for the first time. 5k.

❀ Bite Hard, Lest Remembrance Come After. Galadriel and Halbrand take what moments of reprieve they can behind Celeborn’s back. Always wanting, but never quite together in whole. 4k.

❀ Mortal Laws. Galadriel says yes during Episode 8, "Alloyed." 3k.

❀ Just Deserts. After Sauron's successful assault on Eregion, Celeborn and Galadriel are both his prisoners along with the rest of the city. It's another threesome fic. Enjoy. 3k.

❀ Daughter of Death. ASOIAF crossover. Dany seeks out a sorcerer to help her preserve the life of her baby. The only sorcerer here, the red priestesses whisper, who could cheat death. 3k.

❀ With Music That Scares the Profane. Halbrand wakes up in Eregion for the first time. 3k.

❀ Twain Halves of a Perfect Heart, Made Fast. A child Artanis meets a child Mairon, only he is not an Elf like her. He is a Maia, and he hasn't been on this plane of existence for very long, nor had a body for very long. Artanis teaches him a few things—like friendship. 2k.

❀ Queen of Love and Beauty. A child Artanis reunites with a child Mairon at a festival for Vána the Ever-young and Queen of Flowers in Valmar. 2k.

❀ And I'll Ask for the Sea. The infamous bath!fic. 2k.

❀ It’s the Last Thing I Wanted (It’s the First Thing I Do). Mairon and Artanis during the Years of the Trees. 1k.

❀ Green-Eyed Fallacy. On the eve of the Sack of Eregion, Halbrand tries to reason with Galadriel once more before the war. Only now, it’s too late. 1k.

Completed Dead Dove:

❀ Eyes Closed. Morgoth Bauglir returns from beyond The Void, and draws his wayward servant, Sauron, back under his thumb with the one temptation he can't deny—his Lady of Light, Galadriel. 10k.

❀ Into the Light of the Dark Black Night. Modern AU. He winds their fingers together, holds her hand like a lover that has never caused her harm. Their rings are cold side by side. Metal against metal. A binding link holding them together against her will. 8k.

❀ Dark, Dark My Light, and Darker My Desire. In which Artanis thinks Mairon is her rescuer, but it couldn't be further from the truth. 18k.

❀ Vestige. He wants her for her power. He never wanted her for her love. 3k.

[calaroseeey]

You are the Dawn

Adar x Galadriel. Rated G. 3825 words. One-shot.

Together they walked in darkness, yet apart. Now a star shines upon the valley that will one day be known as Rivendell, and it's never too late - not for Adar, or even for Galadriel.

My Adariel Secret Santa gift for Silvershade

───── ※※※ ─────

There was a time when Galadriel still saw the world in color. During the Years of the Trees in the naivety of her youth, she would go down to the shore. Sometimes she was in company with her brother Finrod, closest to her in kin. Other times she was alone, but never lonely. The cold water rushed up the shimmering shore and ran over her feet. The Gold Tree Laurelin reflected her light on the topaz-blue surface of the waters, while the brilliant shore was filled with gems beyond count such as diamonds, rubies and opals. The salted air was fresh and filled her lungs with an ambition and hunger for what lay beyond the Sea. It was easy to imagine the adventures that await her in Middle-earth before the War. She could not foresee the death, betrayal, and utter loss that would find her.

Finrod was gone with the rest of her brothers, Celebrimbor was no more, the great city in Eregion and its smiths had fallen, and Halbrand- she could not even think of him. The very thought of him sickened her and the wound to her chest burned with echos of pain.

She remembered the ring, shining bright on Adar’s hand. Adar. Memories rushed into the front of her mind. His hand trembled as he held it out to her, the same hands that killed too many of her kin. When he turned around for her to see what Nenya had healed, it was as if she saw him for the first time.

She called out his name. “Adar…”

“When last I looked like this, I was known by a different name.”

“What was it?”

“A meaningless name. It does not matter now.”

Galadriel was silent, awaiting for Adar to say more. He slipped off the ring without saying anything else. She stepped nearer to him, and reached out her hand. She let him brace her wrist as he slid it on her finger.

“There has been great pain and sorrow I have caused, Alatáriel.”

“Nor am I blameless, I have killed many of your children. I was prepared to kill you as well.”

“I forgive you.” The wind blew gently through the forest, rustling her hair as it shone in the sunshine. They were still so close. “No more flame. No more darkness. I have much wisdom received from your ring, but it remains yours. I know I cannot vanquish Sauron with this, and it would be selfish to keep it for myself.”

She looked in awe at the ring on her hand, then at him.

“He will not find us here in the forest.” she turned to the hillside they came from. “I must find Elrond. Command your army to ceasefire-”

“Us?”

Her gaze darted back to him. “You can come or not, Adar. But I would much prefer if you did.”

Although she had multitudes of reasons to feel hatred for him, she knew she could trust him now. With her life, with her ring, with the future of the world.

There was no going back now.

Yet, between the holly trees and pine in the forest, there was a Maia clad in false light who had assumed control over the Uruk. And while the spell that kept Adar constrained in darkness was broken, his children had now fallen under the same shadow.

The memory retreated as Galadriel’s surroundings came into focus, and her chest ached again from the cold burn of Morgoth’s crown. She heard the voices of her kin, the wind running through the valley. The rest of what followed rushed into her mind. She remembered the Uruk had found her and Adar first, followed by their enemy. There was a clash of swords and there was shouting, and Sauron had played a cruel dance with her, while Adar was left to fend against his fallen Uruk. Upon opening her eyes she could see the top of the tent softly rippling like waves in the wind.

“Galadriel?” A voice called her out of her lull. She saw at the entrance to her tent Adar standing there. She shouldn’t be surprised by now, as he had taken to frequently checking in with her, although it was he who had sustained far worse physical injury. Her wounds had been of a deeper nature. Adar seemed to be aware of this and was all too familiar, as he had drank of the same cup that had been poured upon her. He could sit with her in shared silence or in conversation. Although their time spent at each other’s bedsides had been at first hesitant and strange, quickly they had grown accustomed and familiar to each other’s presence. His insight had been more keen than even that of her closest friend Elrond.

She repositioned herself on her bed to sit up, bracing herself against the headboard. Adar walked around to a seat by her bedside. “You slept all night,” he stated.

“It would appear so,” she said.

“Come,” he stood up. “I have something to show you.”

He left the tent and waited for her outside. Their camp was made some ways north of the fallen city in a cloven valley settled next to the Misty Mountains guarding them to the east. The river Bruinen narrowed in the valley and several streams came from the river, with small waterfalls cascading down the mountains and even smaller ones in and around the dell.

Galadriel found him waiting outside. Then, he led her to a small open meadow in the forest where elves were planting seeds in the fertile ground. Adar invited her to work with them, and she joined. Although the other elves kept their distance from him, the atmosphere grew a little less anxious with her presence.

Her heart fluttered when his hand brushed against hers by accident, or when the silence between them was brimming with words left unsaid.

───── ※※※ ─────

Galadriel had stayed in the valley to help Elrond establish a fortress. She felt like she was sinking further and further since the siege of Ost-in-Edhil. Sauron taunted her with every worry spoken of the future, every conversation she shared in council with the High King, in the way Adar appeared resigned to his sorrow and how utterly broken his sense of self was. An unnamed hunger dug itself into her, and it fueled her to help her kin, but it was unbearable alone. Most of all, she wanted to know what it is she longed for.

The shame of the siege of Eregion was now laid fully on the shoulders of Sauron. Adar had led the siege on Ost-in-Edhil against Sauron and many Elves had died both by his hand and the Uruk army. Despite this, Adar’s role was overshadowed by the greater enemy in the midst of collective recovery.

Still, there was doubt and a little unrest, but nobody said anything to go against a guest of the High King, and Adar remained a guest of the valley under Elrond, even after the departure of Galadriel to Lindon.

The temporary camp soon grew fortified and became a stronghold of military might, as well as shelter for those who fled Sauron’s continued onslaught on Eregion. But before the people had fully established the fortress, Sauron led a siege on the valley. Galadriel arrived under the High King Gil-Galad’s forces. But it was too late, for many Elves had been killed by Uruk. Adar had been unable to bring himself to kill any of the Uruk, unable to see them as anything other than his children. Although Sauron was driven out again, what the Elves had established had to be rebuilt, like autumn’s harvest was pulled up half-wrought by summer storm.

Destruction and death weighed heavy on the people from fallen Ost-in-Edhil. There were whispered hopes of sailing to Valinor. Some had spoken of remaining in the valley they now called Imladris.

Within those years war brought Galadriel and Adar united against the forces and allies of Sauron. But a distance remained between them. Elrond noticed from then on Adar remaining by himself. This was not uncharacteristic of him before, but there was a new sadness Elrond sensed in him.

───── ※※※ ─────

Adar awoke from dreams of slaughter and death. Pale moonlight spilt through the open window into his room. He laid atop the cold sheets on his bed. The house was quiet and the trees outside were still. True, restful sleep had eluded him for weeks. Whenever he started to feel like he belonged here, the glimpses of peace he had tasted turned bitter with the reminder of what Sauron had stolen from him.

The cool breeze from the window carried the subtle scent of spring flowers. He left his room and made his way to the gardens outside the Homely House. The moon was bright but emitted no warmth. The stars, though outshone by the moon, flickered like jewels set in the mural of the night sky. He followed a lowly path between the trees up the mountainside to an overlook where he could see across the valley.

The stars seemed all too distant. The ghost of the memory of his endless nights and years atop a nameless peak came to dance in his mind’s sight. His thoughts turned then to Galadriel’s ring, and from there to the greater beauty of the ring-bearer. He thought of her often, far too often. The memory of her was a light in the shadows when healing was more of a battle than a straightforward path. It had been autumn when he had last seen her, after the valley was besieged by Sauron and she came with her forces as aid. But a small and selfish part of him wondered if she thought sometimes of him with the same warmth in her heart.

The horizon between the valley to the east became a dusted blue. There somewhere, a light dwelt that evil could not touch. Adar was sure that there was a place in Arda where he could afford such peace. It would not be in this valley, that much was sure, although it had started to feel like a home. He was unsure if the rest of Elvenkind would welcome him as Elrond had. But if he could live among the people of fallen Eregion, perhaps there was a place out there where he was not only welcomed but wanted. And perhaps, he would not be alone.

His sight grew weary at the coming of the dawn.

───── ※※※ ─────

Years had come and vanished like vapor in the wind. It was summer again, and Galadriel had reached a standstill in the war against Sauron. The passage of time felt far more fleeting after the fall of Eregion than it had before.

Her heart grew weary from worry gnawing down her defenses. Hope was more of a wave than anything. Sometimes she was sinking and rough waves tossed her under, while other times she was above the surface managing to get a breath in before the waves grew strong again. There was a yearning that dwelt within her. In her dreams she saw visions of bountiful green forests filled with mallorn trees. Somewhere beyond the reach of Sauron, somewhere safe and hidden where good things could grow and live. She also dreamt, on occasion and often fleetingly, of Adar.

Too much time had passed. And so she returned to Imladris. She missed the company of Elrond, or at least that’s what she told herself was the reason for her visit. On horseback she rode under midsummer sun across the bleak northern terrain. The setting sun shone bright on the eastern side of the Misty Mountains, illuminating the tips of the peaks with molten sunlight and bathing the whole forest in the sun’s warm gaze. She vaguely remembered the sensation of the light of Laurelin on her skin while the land basked in her glory. The newly laid white stone path zig-zagged across the otherwise rocky and steep earth. The air was warmer as she descended into the hidden valley.

There were guards posted on the path. They welcomed her with recognition and a quick bow of their heads. She had only sent word to Elrond of her visit the day of her departure from Lindon. She wasn’t sure if Adar knew yet of her arrival.

She crossed on horseback a bridge of stone without a parapet over the rushing river. Elrond was at the entrance of the grounds ready to meet her, embracing her. There were more people up and about the grounds than she expected. Most of them were unfamiliar to her.

“Galadriel!” he said. “It is good to see you, my friend!”

“Thank you for welcoming me on such short notice.”

“That’s what this valley is for now, you see.” Elrond walked with her towards the Last Homely House. “How long do you intend to stay?”

“Until I find the reason I have been drawn back to this valley.”

“You will always be welcome here.” He turned to her, and laid his hand on her shoulder. “Know that.”

“Thank you,” she said. “This looks more like a sanctuary now than a fortress.”

“Can it not be both?” Elrond smiled.

───── ※※※ ─────

There was a feast that night to commemorate Galadriel’s visit. For some reason or another a nervous sensation settled in Adar’s stomach as he prepared to leave his quarters.

Dusk had bathed the valley in a blue hue as some of the stars above began to glimmer in the darkening sky. A gentle haze settled over Rivendell, the white fog sheer like a layer of one of Galadriel’s gowns.

Elrond had invited his guests to an open grove for the feast. Adar was already outside when Galadriel emerged from the house. She was wearing a gown blue as sky topaz decorated with flowers embroidered with silver thread, and her partially braided hair was draped around her shoulders bright like the last touch of summer over September dusk. Perhaps she caught Adar’s gaze, because he soon found her beside him. He was suddenly very aware of his plain, unadorned clothes and second-guessed his decision to have his hair loose.

“Adar.” she said, her eyes with a glint of delight.

“Alatáriel,” he said, “too much time has passed.”

“It’s barely been a few months since last autumn.” she smiled, before they began to walk down a path through the gardens. Fireflies danced in the bushes among gardens, and the summer air was perfumed by the forest flowers and pine. “There is peace here.” she said.

“There is.” he agreed. “Although still I am discontented. I will not deny Elrond’s kindness, nor the peace that dwells within this valley. Yet I do not belong here.”

“You do belong among us, Adar.”

“Perhaps Elvenkind, yes. But not among these Elves. It is a place for healing, and there can be no peace while the war still goes ever on and on. Not for us.”

“You grieve for your children?” It was more of a statement of what she already knew than a question.

“My heart, no- my whole soul aches for my children who are lost. There is nothing I can do. Here I am, healing and safe in Rivendell, while they are damned to be slaves of Sauron.”

“I will help you.” The words came out before she could catch up to them.

“What? Why would you do that?”

“Because I am your friend,” she stopped and turned to face him. “I do not share your love for them, Adar. But I too am acquainted with loss. If my brothers had been taken by the enemy, if they had been captured rather than killed, I would not rest until I had done all I could. Let me help you, to do what we can.”

“I will accept your help, my lady.”

She could see the surprise and joy in his expression, and it brought a little bit of hope to warm her heart. Merry laughter and conversation was already ignited when they arrived. Elrond gave Adar a quick but kind smile as they approached. The grove - sheltered between pine and aspen - was lit up by lanterns hung upon the trees. The aroma of roast meat with herbs and vegetables was enchanting.

Once the rest of his guests had arrived, Elrond announced Galadriel’s arrival and sat down at the head of the table. Galadriel settled into a seat near Elrond, and Adar sat beside her. During their feasting they drank fine wine from Rhovanion east of the Misty Mountains, and the table was filled with laughter and song mingled with sorrow. Elrond told of the progress of Imladris, and of those, both Elf and Man alike, they had sheltered. Many Elves shared stories of a time long past. Nearly a year had passed since the Elves last had seen war. The loss they had sustained started to settle into the hearts of the people in this momentary peace. Grief was too recent to become history, but healed enough not to weep for. Some had mentioned those who departed Middle-earth and sailed west over the Sea. The enemy was not mentioned by name, but they spoke of the war, of the dead, and of the greatness of that which was lost. Adar caught glimpses of fear in her eyes when the war was mentioned and when they spoke haphazardly of what is to come.

Galadriel, though he knew she carried secret sorrow, laughed and drank and sang songs with their kin that night. Perhaps it was the lanterns or the moonlight spilling through the trees, but she looked aglow. He understood why Men considered the light of Alatáriel’s hair to be magical, or attribute the feats of Elven craft to the magic of wizards and sorcerers.

He wondered if those of their kin who sat around him had casually dismissed such things as ordinary.

Adar was becoming re-accustomed to beauty. Before, his sight was sullied and grey after Sauron, and now the light shone out the clearer in the world around him. He wondered if the ring’s power truly was responsible, or if it simply gave him the clarity to do with it as he will.

The hour was late when the celebration ceased and they returned to the Homely House. Adar lingered longer, as did Galadriel.

“Walk with me?” he asked her. He half expected her to decline but she smiled and even more surprisingly took his arm in hand. A warmth settled in his heart as he guided her to the white-stoned path. She let go of his arm when they began to walk, the echos of her touch left on his arm.

“Often have I walked this path during the night.” Adar said. “Much time has been spent in quiet contemplation, or silence, or lament.”

They walked close beside each other along a white stone path between the beech and oak. The silence was heavy, though not unbearable. Although the eastern mountain range and the shelter of the valley hid some of the sky, still overhead the moon was bright and the stars glistened like jewels.

The path descended to reach a soft trickling stream, the water gently gliding over mossy rock. The warm air, thick and rich with the smell of flowers, was interrupted by a cool breeze. The gloom of war was lifted, if just for them this night.

They came to a small fall in the stream. White gushing water ran over the moss covered rocks and earth. Beneath the water were little blue flowers while white flowers grew upon the surface.

Adar sat down beneath a beech tree, then Galadriel sat close beside him. The light came not just from her ring. There was a light in and of herself, soft and cool, as if she were drenched in starlight. Had he not noticed before?

“I have dreamt of you.” she said. “And of forests, of a secret place beyond the reach of war.” She turned to sit in front of him.

“Come with me.” she said.

“Where would we go?”

She laughed, sweet and melodic. “We could go anywhere, but first come with me to Lindon. There is work yet to be done.”

He turned to look at her hand where the ring glimmered bright like a pulsating star. She reached for his hand and took it within her own. The cool metal of the ring buzzed against his skin. He wrapped his other hand around hers and pulled her a little closer. Night birds sang sweet melodies as the wind blew through the tops of the trees.

“Galadriel,” he whispered, reluctant to interrupt the song of the forest. “The stars pale against your countenance. I have never been witness to such beauty; if I had, I do not want to remember it. Perhaps I can only see it now, with the clarity that came from your ring.”

“Shhh.” she pressed her finger gently to his lips.

Silence hung between them for a moment, before Adar closed the distance and gently pressed his lips against hers. She returned the kiss, with a desperation and desire he did not expect. As her heartbeat quickened, the tension in her body relaxed.

The sounds of the gently splashing water, the birdsong, the swaying of the trees when wind rustled them, had interwoven with the gentle thud of her heartbeat, and the song her beauty was already singing.

The thorns in his heart had been ripped out, and in that wound left in its wake, he felt the embers of hope begin to burn again. All of the suffering and grief, from when she held him at knifepoint in the Southlands, to the fall of Eregion, every enmity between them seemed in this moment like an ugly dream from which they had been awakened.

He pulled away for a moment. To his surprise her reaction was kind and soft as moonlight. He had never seen the Two Trees or the blessed land of the Valar, yet he didn’t feel the need to. For the very light of Laurelin and Telperion was captured within Galadriel's countenance. Fate had been untangled to reveal that Adar’s life was not fixed. There were many paths he could choose now. He had lived in that waiting in this valley, but now only one path was clear.

“I will come with you.” he whispered, just loud enough to chime in with the songs of the forest. “You are as bright as the morning star, Alatáriel, and your beauty surpasses all the jewels set in the heavens and on earth. You are my dawn.”

She reached for the side of his face, gently tracing her fingers over his scars. Perhaps in another lifetime he would’ve flinched from her touch. But not now. He leaned into her embrace and closed his eyes.

“You are my ocean of color.” she said, before he felt her lips, soft and warm, meet his again.

[sweetteaanddragons]

The Great Gil-Galad Swap: Season Two Edition

In which Scion of Somebody, Probably!Gil-Galad and Rings of Power Gil-Galad swap places at the beginning of Season 2 of Rings of Power. SoS!Elrond has to deal with the fallout.

(Please note that I have only seen the first episode of season two. I don't care about spoilers, but don't expect this to be compliant with anything past that.)

(Or much within that, frankly, given the premise of this.)

A spin-off of ideas I first explored in posts here and here.

“The important thing,” Elrond said, “is that no one is dead.”

It was the first thing he had said after staring blankly at the fire for two hours, so Lauriel was inclined to count it as a victory.

“Well done,” he added, with so much weariness that Lauriel had to fight the urge to flinch.

It spoke poorly of the day that the best that could be said of it was that they had not had their fifth kinslaying during it.

It had seemed likely, for a moment, when Lauriel had been facing off against Gil-Galad’s soldiers with her knives, voice ringing with one of the fierce, sharp songs Prince Maglor had taught all his people, bristling with the fear it called down upon the enemy even as it called to its kin for aid.

Come, come, come, it had rung, come to the battle, come to shed blood, come for your kindred -

And they had come, taking up the cry themselves so that it rippled throughout the city, come with every weapon they had secreted and every weapon they could improvise, come racing through the halls of the palace, come clambering up the wall to throw themselves through Gil-Galad’s window, come, come, come -

Some from Doriathrim and Sirion had come to, from alarm instead of brotherhood, but one word from Elrond, and they could have brought at least half of them around.

But Elrond, being Elrond, had chosen his one word differently, of course. He had chosen, stop and stand down and of course, my king may detain me if he wishes and then one of Gil-Galad’s idiot guards had taken the opportunity of Elrond stepping forward to strike him on the head with the hilt of his sword -

It was an accomplishment, she admitted, that no one had died today.

Elrond looked a little better, she thought; he had stumbled through their escape from the city, mouth working but no sound releasing, blood trickling from his temple. His eyes were clear now, though, and his hands were steady as he pressed them together on his knees.

Around them, the rest of the camp had let loose a little of the tension propelling them all.

“What happened?” Anufin asked a little plaintively. He was perched on the very edge of a limb of one of the trees they had sung into providing better cover for their camp.

Lauriel shot him a glare and rather hoped he fell off it, but Elrond was gracious enough to answer.

“The king has accused me of theft,” he said blankly, “and ordered that I be detained. Things . . . escalated.”

Lauriel winced again. He had not looked at her when he had said that. He had not had to.

She was still not sure what else she could have done.

“I did not commit the theft,” Elrond added after a long moment.

“I didn’t think you did,” Lauriel assured him.

“I didn’t care if you did,” Farande offered from across the fire.

Neither assurance seemed to help.

“What did he think you had taken?” Anufin tried.

Elrond responded to that, at least. “Rings,” he said, sounding more bewildered than ever.

Around the fire, dozens of eyes collectively blinked.

“I don’t know which ones,” Elrond continued. “He has one from Finrod he values, but he was wearing it today; there’s his seal ring, I suppose, and it would explain his level of anger, but why would he think that I . . . ?” His voice wavered and trailed off miserably.

Lauriel knew going back and killing Gil-Galad would not actually make Elrond feel better.

She reminded herself of this firmly.

Logic: that was what they needed now.

“Exactly,” she said, leaping on Elrond’s last word before the pause could be too noticeable. “Why would he think it? If - say his seal ring - if it had gone missing, assuming it was stolen might be reasonable, but why would he suspect you?”

“And be sure enough of it to act,” Farande added. “He must have known what the move might cost him.”

“Someone could have planted the ring in Lord Elrond’s room?” someone from the far side of the fire suggested. Macilme, she determined after a moment; she had been half hidden in Thanduin's shadow.

It was a good thought. But: “Someone still would have had to report it,” Lauriel pointed out grimly. “Someone with a reason to be in his rooms.”

Farande’s hand lovingly caressed the hilt of her knife. Lauriel wondered if it was the same one that she’d used the last time one of their own had turned traitor.

Of course, it might not have been one of their own; Elrond was a gracious host and a popular one, and there were a host of servants and, try as she might, Lauriel couldn’t vouch for the loyalty of all of them.

“Still,” Anufin said hesitantly. “To move straight to arrest . . . “

It seemed very ill planned, Lauriel conceded. To try such a thing with only two soldiers; to try it at all without first attempting to hear Elrond’s side of the story; to assume the worst of Elrond in the first place, regardless of planted proof - it did not seem like Gil-Galad.

“Perhaps,” she said slowly, “perhaps it was not a matter of proof at all. Perhaps something has ensnared his will.”

Or, of course, someone.

Elrond’s head jerked up, half hope, half horror. “It would not be an easy thing,” he said. “The king’s will is strong.”

She conceded with a nod.

Yet it was a possibility, and they all knew it.

“So . . . we won’t be going to Eregion to raise allies for a fight quite yet, then?” Farande checked.

”Absolutely not - “ Elrond collected himself with a breath. “No. Under no circumstances are we fighting anyone. We will only be - investigating. As to whether the king requires aid or has been deceived or if I have - have merely lost his trust.”

Lauriel wished, very briefly but very badly, that Elrond was still just the son of her prince instead of her prince himself so that it might be appropriate for her to reach out and hold him close.

“If the first, I will attempt to assist him; if the second, I will endeavor to reveal the deception. If the third . . . If the third, I will surrender myself to his justice.”

There had been nods of acceptance around the fire at the first two objectives. There was a distinct pause at the third.

“Of course, my prince,” Lauriel said into the silence. “Whatever you think is best.”

He was, fortunately, distracted enough by her use of the forbidden title to ignore the silence from the rest.

(“Our princes told us to protect them until the world’s end,” Farande hisses to her once Elrond, half-elven and more vulnerable to the need to rest, has succumbed to sleep. “We cannot let him be arrested. If Gil-Galad has gone mad and truly thinks to try it - ")

(“Then he will have some sort of riding accident,” Lauriel interrupts. “Or hunting accident. Or boating accident. There are a great many accidents that may occur.”)

(Farande relaxes.)

(“But let us hope we will not need an accident,” Lauriel says. “Our prince has had enough of grief.”)

[shrikeseams]

You know what the politics of first age beleriand needs more of? Attempted assassinations. Every 50 or so years some nobody should try to off some of the elvish political leaders. Like.

Fingolfin? A fanatic feanorian OR anyone who lost a loved one crossing the ice!

Fingon? Ditto, except also anyone he led into the first kinslaying, or who loved someone he drew into the first kinslaying.

Maedhros gets like, all of the above! One of his dad's or brothers' followers who's mad about his leadership and/or yielding the crown! Anyone angry about Generic Feanorian Crimes! Some sinda who just found out that an 9ld friend died at alqualonde, or who's unhappy about feanorian political influence in their territory! Anyone who's convinced he's a thrall! Most of these apply to his brothers as well!

Thingol could easily draw ire from any pre-darkening inhabitants of beleriand who think he should have defended them better against melkor, and/or made more of a push against noldor encroachment.

And of course in at least one version Mîm did try to kill Finrod!

And none of this even touches on humans taking some shots!

[polutrope]

Arafinwëan caffeine habits

Finarfin: Makes a large glass pot of jasmine pearl tea every morning and sips it while going through the morning’s work from a handmade cup Indis gave him. Will drink coffee socially but doesn’t particularly like it. Orders whatever everyone else is having. 

Eärwen: Strong black tea with honey in the mornings, iced in summer. Enjoys a matcha latté now and then, unsweetened, but only if she’s confident the café prepares it properly. 

Finrod: Doesn’t really need caffeine but loves the Expérience of the café. Scans the menu for something he’s never tried and enthusiastically asks the barista what it is and whether they like it, and what’s their favourite drink? And what about their favourite pastry? He’ll have one of those please, and another half-dozen to-go (for friends/family/colleagues, of course). Likes to have his order to stay when there’s time and if it's busy will happily take the excuse to ask someone sitting alone if he can join them. 

Orodreth: Makes his own coffee in a percolator, for some reason. If found ordering it, he speedruns a full emotional arc in the four seconds it takes to approach the counter then hastily orders a drip coffee. Becomes nervous when asked what roast, size, and whether he needs room, even though he always gets medium roast medium size and always takes cream. Never says anything if the barista gets his order wrong.

Angrod: Americano, black. Latté with coconut or equally unusual flavouring if he’s feeling interesting. Will tell the barista if they get his order wrong. Nicely -- if a little intensely.

Aegnor: Enables Fingon’s cola habit because he, too, has one. Or had. He immediately gave it up when Andreth looked askance at the three 2L bottles in his refrigerator. Now limits to two cups of drip coffee in the morning. Sometimes three. Okay maybe four, on really long days. Lactose intolerant but can't stand black coffee or alternative milks, and will use regular milk and suffer if lactose-free isn't available.

Galadriel: Triple-shot espresso with a teaspoon of sugar every morning. When not in need of a good hit of caffeine, she enjoys a chai latté but, like her mother, only if the café knows how to make a good one. None of that chai concentrate crap. 

Nolofinwëans | Fëanorians

[echo-bleu]

End of the Year Fic Recs

thank you @thescrapwitch and @sallysavestheday for tagging me!

This is a wonderful game, I love reccing fics and I should do it more. I'll keep it all Silmarillion for the recs, since that's the bulk of what I've read this year. I haven't had the spoon to leave proper comments on some of these, so hopefully reccing them can count too?

Recommend up to 5 series or multi-chapter fics from 2023 that everyone should read (multi-year WIPs count, if the last update was in 2023).

- The Harrowing by @chthonion. I am forever in awe of this whole series and of Chthonion's writing. Somehow every single sentence is relatable and at least half of them are a punch in the gut, but in a healing way. A delightful Frodo, Celebrimbor and Finrod working through their trauma and Annatar, remade as an elf, learning how to be a good person (and a person at all, really).

- we will make this place our home by @leucisticpuffin. Truly delightful 70s AU as narrated by 8 year old Elrond, who just makes my heart melt in every chapter. Maedhros and Maglor as traumatized foster parents doing their best, the twins with their antics and their fears and joys, it's such a breath of fresh air and I can't get enough of it.

- Hanged Man by @tethysresort. Second age fic about the fall of Eregion and the start of Imladris with so much interesting worldbuilding and plot, and characterization of Elrond and Glorfindel especially that I really loved.

- Everlasting Song by @amethysttribble. This is perhaps a little more niche, a crossover with A Song of Ice and Fire, but I'm not an ASOIAF fan at all and I have like two whole memories of the books and I'm still finding absolutely delightful. Top-notch characterization of the Fëanorians, and it really keeps you on your toes.

- Aurë entuluva by @theheirofashandfire. Just very recently caught up with it and I love it to bits! The time loop is all kinds of angsty and breathtaking, and I really love the world that is being constructed afterwards. Wonderful Russingon, and I'm also, especially, in love with her Curufin and Celegorm.

Recommend up to 5 single chapter fics/one-shots (long or short) from 2023 that everyone should read.

- Wayward Son by @thescrapwitch. Angst exactly like I like it. Fëanor and Maglor, and it will make you cry. @thescrapwitch writes Maglor just wonderfully and I really love this Fëanor that will do absolutely anything for his son.

- On the difference between hostages and sons by leodesic (and the rest of the series as well). Absolutely delightful Elrond and Elros, as seen by Gil-galad when they first come to his court. I love Elrond defying expectation, and this was such a wonderful read.

- the world to come by arriviste. Arda Remade, told through the shadows and the gaps of what's missing. It's eerie, and I love a well-written eerie fic that leaves you feeling a little off-balance. Wonderful reflection on the price of perfection.

- Sea-Bells and Sunlight by @actual-bill-potts. Finrod, Lúthien and Beren in Mandos. This broke my heart in the best way.

- in the breaking by @thelordofgifs. Short but terribly impactful study of Maedhros and Maglor before the end, one of the best I've read of them.

Recommend up to 5 fics NOT from 2023 that everyone should read (oldies but goodies).

- A Farewell to Arms by MorwenSteelsheen (LOTR, Farawyn). Such a wonderful characterization and development of Faramir and Éowyn's relationship in a slight canon divergence where Éowyn arrives in Gondor two years before the end of the war of the Ring.

- The Splintered Light by @thearrogantemu. The whole series. These Gifts That You Have Given Me (Silvergifting) is well-known in the fandom, I think, and I absolutely loved it, but the other fics set in the Fourth Age were among the first I read in this fandom that I just fell straight in love with.

- The Host of the West by @mynameisjessejk. Various fics of the Otter Mayhem and Otterless Mayhem series could have gone into every category here because I love them all, but this is the one I chose because I reread it yesterday for the fourth (fifth?) time and it still had me bawling my eyes out. Probably my favourite Finrod, and definitely an inspiration for my own writing. The whole series is about healing and redemption and elf therapy and all of it is delightful.

- The Peril (and Potential) of Unleashing Lightning in a Fishbowl by @dawnfelagund. This one took everything I thought I knew about Caranthir, threw it out the window and gave me a truly brilliant characterization I didn't know I needed in my life. The worldbuilding is also delightful, and so is Amarië.

- Aranya by SpaceWall. I read this recently and it's really staying with me. Some people in my asks have expressed interest in fics that take the Valar to account for their mistakes, and this is a wonderful one. With a bonus revolution. I really love the non-linear storytelling as well, a hard-to-use tool that is done wonderfully here. Plus the title is inspired.

Recommend up to 5 of your own fics (completed or WIP) from 2023 that everyone should read.

- your veins are empty of dust. Character study of Nerdanel as feels her family die across the sea, and she sculpts. This is also the fic for which I made the art I'm probably the proudest of to date.

- your smile tells me I'm safe. Modern AU with aro Maedhros and a Russingon QPR.

- silver. Míriel, Celegorm and Celebrimbor, and living with chronic illness.

- the light that you keep burning there. Part of a much larger AU where the second and third kinslayings don't happen, but this one is about Maedhros, Maglor and Fingon in the later years, as the world crumbles, trying to remember what (who) they're fighting for.

- if I am to braid my mystic crown. The Silmarillion retold through worldbuilding headcanons about braids.

Tagging @unforth @foodsies4me @wren-of-the-woods @camille-lachenille (I don't know who has already done it, so feel free to send me a link if you have!)

[malkaleh]

Superlatives of my Stories: 2024 Edition

I stole this meme from @petralemaitre once again.

Leitmotif of the year: :increases the judaism and the biracial and the abuse survivor and the OT3+ headcanons: Namárië

My best story of this year: Objectively (probably?) It’s The History Of Man (Rewritten By Women) - four women of The West Wing on trauma, sisterhood and power (or not). I wrote it like, you can tell I was having some feelings but I think the Zoey section in particular is my favourite. An extract:

Zoey knows it’s not the 19th century or the 18th but it also is. The media dissects her outfits, but not the men who stripped her bare and bruised. They sigh over the impact on her father, on issues, on politics but not the way her nightmares haunt her. 

My favorite and/or truest story of this year: It is Gold Cages. Without a doubt. I had actually been thinking of the flip side of ‘the villain is gentle only with you/would burn the world for you’ (a trope I am in whole hearted support of) when…you don’t want that. When sometimes, silk and ‘safety’ is worse than violence because you are a precious thing, a treasure but not a person. Or ‘Sauron is incredibly genuinely in love with Celebrimbor, Celeborn, Galadriel, Elrond and Finrod’ An extract:

There is light and high beauty forever beyond the reach of the grasping choking shadows and Miriel has always felt it - perhaps never more than when she is with Elendil. Pharazon is small beneath it and while Elendil names her Luthien she thinks of Beren. They will endure. For all of them he simply makes a chamber - a mix of all that is beautiful from each of them. Dark blue and silver stars, white and golden flowers, blue flowers and birches and moss. Jewels and light and birds. His fingers through Celebrimbors hair, an arm about his little nightingale, the other about the waist of his silver prince, his golden fair queen laying across his chest and Mairon thinks, this I will have. All this and more I will have. He thinks of it in a thousand ways.

Story of mine most underappreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Hi Those Who Walk In Starlight or the ‘In return for peace Adar asks for a night each with Celebrimbor (who lives here), Elrond, Galadriel and Gil-Galad’ fic that may have been a little bit Scheherazade inspired and also I saw a fic summary (I could not read it for trauma reasons but it’s by Archraven) and went !!!!! An extract:

He cannot but want - cannot but brush a hand across Gil-Galads hair, let himself run his fingers across Celebrimbors shoulders, wrap a possessive touch through Elronds curls and Galadriels golden strands. It is impossible to resist and why should he not indulge in beauty, in this feast of shining kindness offered to him.

Story with the single sexiest moment:

Most "Holy crap, that's wrong, even for you" story: Hi would you like to read about Danny from TWW getting kidnapped + his sandwich related commentary + unfortunately one of his kidnappers is Into Him? (Because I had seen a couple of ‘CJ gets kidnapped stories’ and I wanted to like, flip it and also some Girl Saves Boy Content. An Extract:

The other really stupid thing is that the sandwich was mediocre at best and somehow that’s the thing he gets stuck on, midway through having the shit kicked out of him. Like he was shot and now he’s being tortured and the sandwich wasn’t even hospital cafeteria quality.

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: Me writing Those Who Walk In Starlight and going ‘!!!!!’ about Adar in various ways.

Hardest story to write: It’s funny because while there were times I found it very hard to like, write none of the stories were actually hard to write if that makes any sense?

Biggest disappointment: End of year complete loss of joy in OT3 verse (Tudors) because I got a really long comment about how it was historically inaccurate dreck with a quote ‘idealogical agenda’ and listen, I am aware I should not be so upset but it was a really awful spot that they hit for a number of reasons and I cannot face writing it again. Maybe in the future but for now it’s not on AO3.

Biggest surprise: ME WRITING TOLKIEN FIC WHAT IN THE FUCK. (I would still say I largely do not read or really write Tolkien fic in terms of book based stuff (or movies for different reasons) because it’s not my cake for various reasons but uh TROP I will (and there will be book stuff because I’m me). I blame the cast ;). Like somehow, that happened. Also now I am attached to a bunch more characters (thank you Charlies) and also apparently uncorrupted!Mairon AUs and Celeborn/Galadriel/Mairon (Sauron/Annatar) in general like. (Also absolutely Celebrimbor/Mairon (Sauron/Annatar) beside this. And I have a Gil-Galad/Elendil/Miriel thing now.

Most unintentionally telling story: I think at this point all my stories are telling *g* I just kind of go with it.

Best title: The Talking Horses, The Singing Lions & The Golden Queens or ‘Lil Attempts To Write A Horse And His Boy Fix It because CLIVE I HAVE NOTES’

Story I haven't yet written, but intend to: Hi my version of the uncorrupted!Mairon AU.

Tagging (if you want to): @verecunda @nocompromise-noregrets @shes-a-voodoo-child @conundrumoftime @damnyoubishop @lemurious and anyone else who wants to consider yourself tagged

[edennill-archived]

no, but really I'm insane about the lines:

Chem tak laskayet chornyy tron Tvoi glaza, o Sauron? Kak budto myortvyy blesk koron Spasyot togo, kto ne rozhdyon?

yes I'm quoting them in the latin alphabet because cyrillic hurts my brain and you should be glad I didn't go all the way and switch words to polish equivalents when possible because that's how my brain defaults to reading them.

translation being:

Why does the dark throne So draw your eyes, o Sauron? As if the dead glitter of crowns Would save one who was not born?

(oh, look it almost rhymes in english too!)

especially with the actors' intonation, it's so intense and... reproachful? as if finrod is really pitying his foe and captor — when I don't think at this point he has any hope to win this battle, he has nothing to gain from these words — and his parting shot is just "why did you throw away all you were given for... this?"

honestly, it reminds me of this one post floating around the — narnia fandom, I think — about how the promise of evil is always less than what one was really destined for.

but also, trust it for finrod to pity a dark lord.

[welcomingdisaster]

Who would win in a parking lot fistfight?

The rules of the fight:

They are unarmed, shirtless, and have had the equivalent of two shots (everyone, elves and men, equally inebriated)

Currently the parking lot contains: one broken beer bottle, many cigarette butts, two sewer rats, discarded curly fries, and a big stick

Victory is declared once one person surrenders, dies, or flees the scene

ROUND 1, MATCH 10: