#first age easterlings

[grey-gazania]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[grey-gazania-fic]

The sons of Bór were Borlad, Borlach, and Borthand; and they followed Maedhros and Maglor, and cheated the hope of Morgoth, and were faithful.

Featuring Antonio Te Maioha as Bor, Benjamin Mitchell as Borlad, Julian Arahanga as Borlach, and James Rolleston as Borthand.

A belated Day 1 fill (family) for @tolkiengenweek

[spiced-wine-fic]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Vanimórë, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s), Sauron (Tolkien) Additional Tags: Angband (Tolkien), Easterlings, Worldbuilding, AI-Generated Images, gapfiller, Dark Prince ‘verse Series: Part 6 of Dark Prince ~ The Darkness Has Its Own Light, Part 5 of Splinters of Steel Summary:

The High Chief of the Easterling camp is troubled when the Great Lord brings a slave from the Mountain.

“His blood must burn within him,” she said. “He is an amalgam. A made thing.”

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

“All your words are but to say…when the men have died in battle and honour, you have leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more.” – Éowyn

We all love this line, where Éowyn is really giving it to Aragorn over the unjustness of her exclusion from battle with imagery that is jarringly evocative. But what if she isn’t just painting a powerful rhetorical picture but is referencing the life of an ACTUAL WOMAN: Aerin of the House of Hador and kinswoman of Húrin (seen in the Silm/Children of Húrin)? What if Éowyn’s language is letting us know that these stories and legends of First Age communities of Men are still alive and well in Third Age Rohan’s oral history traditions?

I love this idea, which made its way to me from @outofangband (who shares a love of Aerin but also knows WAY more about her than I ever will!♥️). For those who don’t know, Aerin lived in Hithlum and was forcibly married to the Easterling leader Brodda after Hithlum fell in the Nirnaeth. She suffered greatly but didn’t let Brodda’s abuse stop her from secretly aiding the remnant of her people who were living then as beggars and thralls. Túrin eventually came to make a bloody mess of it all (as is Túrin’s way) and ran off with many men of Aerin’s community after stirring the Easterlings to wrath. Then Aerin, among the women left to deal with that wrath, lit Brodda’s hall on fire and perished in the flames. Sound familiar???

I simply can’t read Éowyn’s words now without thinking that she knew the story of Aerin and had it in mind as she spoke to Aragorn. There’s already some evidence the Rohirrim are familiar with the history of First Age humans even as they don’t know much high elven lore (I refuse to accept that they got the name “Haleth” by coincidence!), and this seems like an even more direct and natural connection, especially because the Rohirrim are distantly related to Aerin’s Hadorian people.

The thought that the Rohirrim have songs and oral poetry – their means of “documenting” and transmitting history – about these First Age figures is lovely to me. Tolkien makes such a big deal out of how much the elves and Gondorians love and revere lore, how they have libraries full of texts, etc., while positioning the Rohirrim as less sophisticated in comparison (they’re called “unlearned” and Aragorn suggests they barely remember things that pre-date the founding of Rohan itself!). They’re treated as though their lack of books and the fact that they don’t happen to be interested in the exploits of the Númenoreans or the Noldor means that they’re ignorant of everything or don’t care about history at all. But that’s not true!!

They’re absolutely invested in and take care to preserve the history THAT MEANS SOMETHING TO THEM. And what is that? Well, it’s not Fëanor or Tar-[Insert King Here], but apparently it is Haleth and Aerin – women who found different but equally impactful ways to lead their people and resist oppression. And for those to be stories that resonated in Rohan enough to be remembered and passed on from generation to generation makes a lot of sense to me. It’s a land of shieldmaidens, a land where women are still looking for and creating ways to resist and defy, a land where both women and men sometimes have unexpected views about gender roles.

Those are people who would be interested in the experiences of Haleth and Aerin, even as (and maybe especially because) those women aren’t particularly remembered and celebrated by folks like Aragorn or the Gondorians and the elves. Húrin is the man of legend from that time and place to most of Middle Earth, and Aerin lives in the margins of the history just as she lived in the margins of life. But an underdog people will love an underdog story and keep it alive while others have forgotten.

It’s also interesting to consider what “lesson” the Third Age Rohirrim are taking from Aerin’s tale. On the face of it, you might read Éowyn’s words as being scornful of Aerin, as she points to Aerin’s situation as one lacking honor. But I don’t think that means she thinks that *Aerin* is lacking honor. Their situations are very different – Éowyn lives in an unconquered land that is going to battle now to stave off their fall; the main events of Aerin’s story take place in a post-war environment, where there is no battle to be had but just the daily grind of living under brutal occupation. Aerin does everything courageous and meaningful that can be done in her scenario (other characters in the Children of Húrin basically say this, confirming that Aerin is good, strong of heart, and the very essence of righteous defiance), and I don’t think Éowyn finds any fault with Aerin’s choices or behavior. What Éowyn finds dishonorable and inglorious is the circumstance of being forced to live under occupation in the first place. She wants to go to battle so that she is never faced with the life that Aerin had to live. She learned from Aerin’s tale that she’d rather not be the resistance to oppression but instead the conqueror of it.

Anyway. Now I’m just rambling (as is my way!). But if even a hint of this was interesting to you, I urge you to check out @outofangband ‘s blog for all kinds of additional context and detail about Aerin and the infamous firing of Brodda’s hall, expressed in a more articulate way than here! Thanks for sharing this very cool connection with me, friend!

[marta-bee]

@outofangband liked my zeroing in on Tolkien's comparing Erendis's beauty with Morwen's in the last post. I actually made a verbal slip and used the wrong name, so that post ended up seeming more focused on Morwen than I meant. But @outofangband's comment got me thinking more about Morwen's story, and that lens is turning out to be quite interesting. So let's dig in a bit more.

(Also: This, kiddos, is why you comment, on Tumblr and AO3 and everywhere else. It's the back and forth that really makes fandom worth the effort.)

It's been entirely too long since I've read the Quenta Silmarillion, and I've not read the Narn i Hîn Húrin at all, so doubtless there's people more familiar with their story than me. But briefly: Húrin was a lord in one of the Elf-friend Houses of Men. He was part of the Union of Maedhros (First Age political alliance between elves, men, and dwarves to resist Morgoth), fought in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad/Battle of Unnumbered Tears beside Fingon. Said battle earned its name, Fingon and countless others (including most of his household) is killed, and Húrin himself is captured and tortured for decades.

Morwen is his wife and the mother of Túrin and Nienor. She stayed behindi n Dor-lómin (Húrin's settlement), and after the Nirnaeth Easterlings allied with Morgoth sweep in and take over. They leave her alone, at least at first, thinking her some kind of a witch. If memory serves it was connected to her beauty, which they thought was preternatural and suspected her of having dealings with elves that made her dangerous. Túrin she sends off to Doriath so Thingol can raise him in safety; Nienor stays with her in Dor-lómin until Nienor is grown and the two women go searching for Túrin at last.

*******************

It's such a different situation in so many ways to Erendis's, so it's a bit fascinating how similar their lives are here.

After their marriage, Aldarion and Erendis lived together in Armenelos, and had a daughter. They planted the elven-tree in their garden, and the song-birds settled there. "

This got long, I'm afraid, but is a good read in its entirety. "In heart Erendis was glad [to have a daughter rather than a son], for she thought: "Surely now Aldarion will desire a son, to be his heir; and he will abide with me long yet." For in secret she still feared the Sea and its power upon his heart; and though she strove to hide it, and would talk with him of his old ventures and of his hopes and designs, she watched jealously if he went to his house-ship or was much with the Venturers."

It doesn't take a genius to understand how these stories work, and it shouldn't be surprising it didn't work out that way.

Erendis learned of these things, though Aldarion had not spoken to her of them, and she was unquiet. Therefore one day she said to him: "What is all this busyness with ships. Lord of the havens? Have we not enough? How many fair trees have been cut short of their lives in this year?" She spoke lightly, and smiled as she spoke. "A man must have work to do upon land," he answered, "even though he have a fair wife. Trees spring and trees fall. I plant more than are felled." He spoke also in a light tone, but he did not look her in the face; and they did not speak again of these matters. But when Ancalímë was close to four years old Aldarion at last declared openly to Erendis his desire to sail again from Númenor. She sat silent, for he said nothing that she did not already know; and words were in vain. He tarried until the birthday of Ancalimë, and made much of her that day. She laughed and was merry, though others in that house were not so; and as she went to her bed she said to her father: "Where will you take me this summer, tatanya? I would like to see the white house in the sheep-land that mamil tells of." Aldarion did not answer; and the next day he left the house, and was gone for some days. When all was ready he returned, and bade Erendis farewell. Then against her will tears were in her eyes. They grieved him, and yet irked him, for his mind was resolved, and he hardened her heart. "Come, Erondis!" he said. "Eight years I have stayed. You cannot bind for ever in soft bonds the son of the King, of the blood of Tuor and Eärendil! And I am not going to my death. I shall soon return." "Soon?" she said. "But the years are unrelenting, and you will not bring them back with you. And mine are briefer than yours. My youth runs away; and where are my children, and where is your heir? Too long and often of late is my bed cold." "Often of late I have thought that you preferred it so," said Aldarion. "But let us not be wroth, even if we are not of like mind. Look in your mirror, Erendis. You are beautiful, and no shadow of age is there yet. You have time to spare to my deep need. Two years! Two years is all that I ask!" But Erendis answered: "Say rather: 'Two years I shall take, whether you will or no.' Take two years, then! But no more. A King's son of the blood of Eärendil should also be a man of his word." Next morning Aldarion hastened away. He lifted up Ancalimë and kissed her, but though she clung to him he set her down quickly and rode off. Soon after the great ship set sail from Rómenna. Hirilondë he named it, Haven-finder; but it went from Númenor without the blessing of Tar-Meneldur; and Erendis was not at the harbour to set the green Bough of Return, nor did she send. Aldarion's face was dark and troubled as he stood at the prow of Hirilondë, where the wife of his captain had set a great branch of oiolairë, but he did not look back until the Meneltarma was far off in the twilight.

So: two women, left behind by their husbands to raise young daughters. Húrin's departure makes sense -- he's going off to fight Morgoth, to make Dor-lómin safe. Aldarion's seems much more voluntary and optional if not downright selfish. I'm trying to remember the almost physical compulsion he had before he married Erendis, to go adventuring again. I'm trying to be sympathetic. But it's not Erendis trying to "bind for ever in soft bonds." It's what Tar-Meneldur warned him about when he first became engaged to Erendis: that a man cannot have two wives. If these are soft bonds, it's just what Aldarion chose for himself.

But for the first time, Erendis doesn't exactly seem blameless.

All that day Erendis sat in her chamber alone, grieving; but deeper in her heart she felt a new pain of cold anger, and her love of Aldarion was wounded to the quick. She hated the Sea; and now even trees, that once she had loved, she desired to look upon no more, for they recalled to her the masts of great ships. Therefore ere long she left Armenelos, and went to Emerië in the midst of the Isle, where ever, far and near, the bleating of sheep was borne upon the wind. "Sweeter it is to my ears than the mewing of gulls," she said, as she stood at the doors of her white house, the gift of the King; and that was upon a downside, facing west, with great lawns all about that merged without wall or hedge into the pastures. Thither she took Ancalimë, and they were all the company that either had. For Erendis would have only servants in her household, and they were all women; and she sought ever to mould her daughter to her own mind, and to feed her upon her own bitterness against men. Ancalimë seldom indeed saw any man, for Erendis kept no state, and her few arm-servants and shepherds had a homestead at a distance. Other men did not come there, save rarely some messenger from the King; and he would ride away soon, for to men there seemed a chill in the house that put them to flight, and while there they felt constrained to speak nail in whisper. One morning soon after Erendis came to Emerië she awoke to the song of birds, and there on the sill of her window were the Elven-birds that long had dwelt in her garden in Armenelos, but which she had left behind forgotten. "Sweet fools, fly away!" she said. "This is no place for joy such as yours."

Erendis locks herself and Ancalimë away. When the two years passed, she shut down the house in Armenelos and isolated herself in the house "ordered the house in Armenelos be shut, and she went never more than a few hours' journey from her house in Emerië. "Such love as she had was all given to her daughter, and she clung to her, and would not have Ancalimë leave her side, not even to visit Núneth and her kin in the Westlands. [...] But the women were chary in their speech to the child, fearing their mistress; and there was little enough of laughter for Ancalimë in the white house of Emerië."

This... is not healthy. This is concerning, actually, and from the outside it seems avoidable. It's not, quite, because she's been abandoned by her husband, twice now in a way. And from Erendis's perspective there was nothing compelling Aldarion to leave. If anything, he turned it around on her and blamed her for trying to imprison him on land.

Compare them to Morwen and Nienor, whose husband and father did have a good reason to leave. I'm not entirely clear why they stayed in Dor-lómin rather than going to Doriath with Túrin, except that the story needed them to be separate. Maybe they thought Húrin would escape and come back to them there? Maybe it just seemed safer than traveling somewhere else, since the Easterlings left them alone? But her isolation comes from being surrounded by enemies, and she doesn't seem to isolate Nienor more than their security requires, at least not that I remember. Whereas Erendis bars all men from the main house, makes Ancalimë's whole life surround her in a smothering sort of "love," keeps Ancalimë separate even from her grandparents.

I keep thinking about the Hobbit narrator's line, that  "things that are good to have and days that are good to spend are soon told about, and not much to listen to; while things that are uncomfortable, palpitating, and even gruesome, may make a good tale, and take a deal of telling anyway." This is a story, and stories require things to happen. Morgoth provides a convenient villain, whatever else he is, that drives Húrin and Morwen apart. But Númenor in these early days is a land of peace, this is the golden age, things are supposed to be happy, which is precisely what they can't be if there's to be a story worth telling. It almost seems the nature of Men that if there's not a conflict near at hand they'll invent one; or that something deep inside them, their striving nature will compel them to do just that.

Psychologically, I don't want to blame Erendis because I like her so much. She's become a kind of Blorbo for me. And I do think she's got a right to feel betrayed and abandoned, even as she's materially well taken care of. However unhealthy her actions are here, and however much she's hurting Ancalimë, it's clearly coming from some deep pain. But Morwen's isolation is so easy to understand, compared to Erendis's! It's rational in its way, whereas this just seems unnecessary. That's probably what makes the story so interesting, even if I do want to shake her a bit by the shoulders, and send Ancalimë off to Núneth's house for her own protection.

What can I say? God save us for ourselves when there's no baddie near at hand. It's all so depressingly human.

[90shaladriel]

Queen of Night and Stars

Ficlet inspired by the Rings of Power concept art by Julien Gauthier

He watched her. Standing slightly behind her right shoulder he looked down at her as they stood together on the dais of the lofty hall. Her gold and silver locks tumbled in waves down her back holding the very light of the gods they both rebelled against within each strand. Her white dress tucked beneath the polished black metal cuirass that signaled the mark of a warrior still. She was everything to him.

One by one the supplicants came before them pleading for this cause or to spare them of their hardship. Always they begged her, their lady of light, to deliver them from their afflictions.

And she did, with the unshakable calmness and wisdom of an ancient being now stronger than the foundations of the earth.

A group of townspeople from some backwater village required assistance that their bridge had been washed away in a flood. Galadriel smiled and assured them that her king’s men would be dispatched at once. She didn’t even bother asking anymore to order a detachment of his Orcs or Easterling men to do some errand like this.

Would he ever say no? How could he?

He was so proud of her taking her rightful claim to power, now it fit her, how all of Middle Earth shaped to her will now and adored her. He had played his part in the beginning, it was as he promised. He gave her that spiked silver crown and forced the pretender Gil-galad to surrender his. She of course restrained him in and micromanaged his battles to do the least harm, she had also convinced a greater portion of her people to put down arms and accept the new order.

A couple of humans, a man and wife with a sick baby, begged for something to make their child well. Their eyes full of tears as the woman looked up at Galadriel, the man glanced his way before casting his eyes down. Galadriel soothed the babe’s cries with a gentle hand on its forehead, she whispered in her native tongue a prayer to the Valar and he felt the pull of her on the unseen world drawing on his power to alter the very flesh of the living to make it whole again.

They loved her and they feared him.

It sat well with him. He actually had no desire for fame and glory, his ambitions had always been to order the world in a manner that felt right and good. Healing what he had done in ages past but forging a new order where he could save this land. If everyone thought she was the one saving it felt only natural, it’s what she deserved.

As she gathered her flowing white dress so she could delicately climb the stairs back to the dais at his side he admired her beauty more fully. She noticed of course and her smile turned into a tight frown.

She willingly ruled at his side but always rejected his advances. Ever since their first night of marriage, the solitary time she had given in to his desire and he had taken that opportunity. Years passed and whether it was some absurd custom of the Eldar or perhaps her long standing hatred for what he was, she refused him since. Did she fear giving him an heir? His mind did idle on that thought from time to time, what a new life would mean when that ritual of succession meant little to them since they would live forever. Looking at the healed child whose parents clutched so tightly he wondered if it would feel the same for their own?

How he wished he could bury his hands in her hair, pull her body against his and feel his lips drinking from her fair skin.

She knew this of course. Before the next villager came before them, he felt the tip of her right hand graze just over his left hand’s little finger. He caught the involuntary gasp before it left his mouth, but he saw the corner of her lip turn just so slightly upward, her blue eyes dancing in mirth as in a glade of flowers for those who knew where to look.

His Queen. He would stand by her side until the days ended and there was only night once more. They would be together still. His starlight in the dark.

ao3 link

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54437683

[mirra-kan]

@lotr20 Day 5 (15th Dec): loss | sacrifice | despair

"DARK TALES OF HORROR" The causes of the problems lie much deeper  than just the Lord of The Rings story. We see the result. We see only one side of a coin. Here's another one, which refers to the deeds of the Second Age but persists until the fall of Dark Lord Sauron, which we witness in LOTR books and movies. Here're some quotes I find relatable to the topic overall, in case you're interested ❤

"I dislike the use of 'political' in such a context; it seems to me false. It seems clear to me that Frodo's duty was 'humane' not political. He naturally thought first of the Shire, since his roots were there, but the quest had as its object not the preserving of this or that polity, such as the half republic half aristocracy of the Shire, but the liberation from an evil tyranny of all the 'humane'* – including those, such as 'easterlings' and Haradrim, that were still servants of the tyranny. Denethor was tainted with mere politics: hence his failure, and his mistrust of Faramir. It had become for him a prime motive to preserve the polity of Gondor, as it was, against another potentate, who had made himself stronger and was to be feared and opposed for that reason rather than because he was ruthless and wicked. Denethor despised lesser men, and one may be sure did not distinguish between orcs and the allies of Mordor. If he had survived as victor, even without use of the Ring, he would have taken a long stride towards becoming himself a tyrant, and the terms and treatment he accorded to the deluded peoples of east and south would have been cruel and vengeful. He had become a 'political' leader: sc. Gondor against the rest."  – letter 183 | Notes on W. H. Auden's review of The Return of the King Art quote:

"The Númenóreans carry their evil also to Middle-earth and there become cruel and wicked lords of necromancy, slaying and tormenting men; and the old legends are overlaid with dark tales of horror." Letter 131

[elffics]

⊹𝑨𝒓𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒈𝒆๋ ࣭

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴀɢᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪɴɢꜱ ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴇɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʟᴠᴇꜱ, ᴀʟᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴘʀᴏᴘᴏꜱᴀʟ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀɪᴍʙᴏʀ, ʟᴏʀᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴇʀᴇɢɪᴏɴ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪɴɢꜱ ᴏꜰꜰᴇʀ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀɴ ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏʀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴡᴏᴍᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ, ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ɪᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟ ʟᴀᴅʏ.

ᴀ/ɴ: ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪɴɢꜱ ɪᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟ ʟᴀᴅʏ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ᴏᴄ, ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴏʟᴋɪᴇɴ. ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟ ʟᴀᴅʏ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴡʜᴏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴀɢᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪɴɢꜱ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ʜᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ꜱʜᴇ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇᴍ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʜᴜʀᴛᴇᴅ, ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ?, ᴇɴɢʟɪꜱʜ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴍʏ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ.

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀɪᴍʙᴏʀ x ᴏᴄ

During the Second Age, a historic opportunity for peace arose between the reclusive Elves of Eregion and the Easterlings, a fierce and distant people. Mired in a bitter history of conflict and animosity, the chance to bridge the divide between them seemed almost unattainable.

Yet, amidst the whispers of diplomacy and the clamor of war drums, one brave soul dared to defy convention and embrace the possibility of unity. Celebrimbor, the esteemed lord of Eregion and renowned craftsman, saw in the Easterlings a glimmer of hope for a brighter future. And when the proposal of an arranged marriage between himself and the most treasured woman of the Easterling tribe was put forth, he accepted, determined to pave the way for understanding and cooperation.

Little did Celebrimbor know that the mysterious lady in question was none other than an immortal human, kept hidden from the world by her people for centuries. The Easterlings saw her as a priceless asset for their peace. And as she was reluctantly thrust into the intricate web of political intrigue and ancient traditions, she found herself torn between duty and desire, between the expectations of her people and the stirring of her own heart.

The wedding was held in Eregion, specifically in Celebrimbor palace. they danced for the first time as a husband and wife. all eyes were on them, some were admiring, while some were judging. as they danced, Celebrimbor noticed her empty expression.

✦ Celebrimbor: you seem to be distressed my lady, do I make you uncomfortable?.

The woman did not lift her face, she stared at anything else except his face.

✦: no my lord, you do not.

her words seemed empty.

✦ Celebrimbor: well then, would you please look at me?.

she can feel her people's eyes on her, she has to act good. her eyes are now locked with his for the first time since they met.

✦ Celebrimbor: you are unhappy with this marriage, I can see that in your eyes.

✦ : no my lord, I'm happy, you are a fine lord and it's an honor to be your bride.

He can tell that her words were forced and not genuine. he chuckles softly at her words.

✦ Celebrimbor: did they tell you to say this?.

she did not answer this time and lowered her gaze again. a deep sigh left his throat. he ended the dance and led her back to their seats.

Time skip

as is known, the husband must take his wife to their shared chamber and seal their reunion forever. the woman prepared herself mentally for this. as they entered their now shared chamber, Celebrimbor showed her everything in the chamber, after that, he excused himself saying that he will spend the night in his forge.

The woman left standing in the middle of the room, not knowing what just happened or what to do now. did he perhaps don't want to share a bed with her?. many dark thoughts roamed inside her brain, that even if she is immortal he don't desire her because she is a human and he is an elf.

✦: no, he is an elf, elves don't bond and marry with anyone, they only marry once and to their true love, not this.

she held her head in her hands, trying to stop her nervousness.

✦: I'm safe here, they won't hurt me, they can't reach me. I'm safe.

tears threatened to leave her eyes but she quickly wiped them. her eyes then noticed a balcony door was slightly opened. her feet dragged her there then sat down in front of it, eyes fixed on the moon. her breath calming slowly.

✦: maybe this is for the best, he won't desire me since I'm not an elf and I get to be away from my people. I will lock myself here if I have too.

[silm-lore]

Caranthir riding through Dor Caranthir

Caranthir was born in Valinor to Fëanor and a Nerdanel, their fourth son. He swore the Oath of Fëanor and followed his father to Middle Earth, aiding in the first kinslaying and burning the ships at Losgar. After Dagor-Nuin-Giliath, Caranthir established his own realm in Thargelion, Dor Caranthir. He hated the Sons of Finarfin after Angrod asked King Thingol for land and accepted his kingship for the Ñoldor. Dor Caranthir land bordered the dwarves of Nogrod and Belest, and Caranthir established an alliship with them, and as Caranthir controlled the trade routes he grew very wealthy. Elves generally did not like Men when they started entering Beleriand, but Caranthir rescued the Edwin house of Haladin from raiding orcs, and Caranthir respected them for their valor. Caranthir offered Haleth and her people a place in Dor Caranthir and his protection. However she declined. In Dagor-Bragollach Caranthir lost his lands and fled to Amon Ereb with Amrod and Amras and they defended the fortress. When Easterlings came to Beleriand Caranthir welcomed them and Ulfang swore allegiance to him. Caranthir joined the Union of Maedhros and led the easterlings. However Ulfang was an agent of Morgoth and they betrayed the elves, and the elves lost Nírnaeth Arnoediad, suffering many casualties. After this battle the Sons of Fëanor were scattered through Osseriand, till they learned King Dior of Doriath had Lúthiens Silmaril. The Sons of Fëanor attacked and Caranthir, along with his brothers Celegorm and Curufin were slain in the second kinslaying.

Father name: Morifinwë, meaning “Dark Finwë” for his black hair, and possibly for his temperament.

Mother name: Carnistir, meaning “Red Face” for his ruddy complexion.

Born: 1299 Y.T.

Death: 506 F.A.

Age: 2,431 in the Second Kinslaying

Associated with: Fëanor, Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Curufin, Ambarussa, Ulfang & Haleth.

[grey-gazania]

I feel like the Easterlings (both First Age and Third Age) don't get enough love in this fandom, and I'd like to rectify that if I can. Woul anyone be interested in participating if I were to set up an Easterlings Week?

[grey-gazania-fic]

[SWG link here]

Who were Ulfang's people, and why did they betray the Elves? The truth as seen by Uldor, Caranthir, and Ulfang's granddaughter.

I was inspired to get off my ass and write the latest chapter by the @tolkiengenweek Day 4 prompt, "language".

[pearlescentpearl]

Guuuuuuuys I think I figured out what happened to the Faithful Easterlings post-Nirnaeth! I mean, we do all wonder what happened to them after the fifth battle, right? ‘Cause Bór and his sons may be dead, but that doesn’t mean his entire House died there, nor that they didn’t still have women, children, elderly, and non-combatants back at Himring.

So! There’s this little bit in the Grey Annals, section 174, where’s it says, quote; “Of them [the people of Bór], it is said, came the most ancient of the Men that dwelt in the north of Eriador in the Second Age and [? read in] after-days.” End quote. 

Now, the most ancient Men in the north of Eriador in the Third Age are the Lossoth who live by the icy Bay of Forochel. They descend from the Forodwaith (People of the North), of whom not much is known save that they’ve been there since the Elder Days. The definition of Elder Days here meaning since before the end of the First Age.

Friends, if you but consult the maps, you will see it is damn near a straight line from Himring, through the pass of Rerir, to the Bay of Forochel.

I am connecting dots here.

[swanmaids]

original character-focussed fic recs

One of the best feelings for me as a fic writer in this fandom is when somebody tells me that they liked one of my original characters. Character creation can be hard work and nerve-wracking, so it’s really rewarding whenever people tell me that it’s paid off. This fandom has a wealth of fantastic, memorable original characters, so I wanted to make a recommendation list of some of my favourite fics that feature them. The fics in this list are a range of lengths, ratings, warnings, and themes, and I’m hoping everyone will be able to find something to their taste here.

Of course this list is not exhaustive, and I’m always open to more recommendations!

All the splendour they could bear by asterisq; t, 1k, cntw.

The Ar-Pharazôn (& Sauron) regime commissions art for the temple. The artist tries to survive the assignment.

Bitter Heart, Bitter Heart by thegreatpumpkin; f!Galathil/OFC, t, 20k, nawa.

She had loved her brother better once. She had loved them all better once; but too many times she had swallowed bitterness, and now her heart was all sown with ashes and salt. Noble Celeborn, wise Celeborn, shining in his place beside the king! Galathil was reminded at every turn of the ways in which she did not measure up.

The Bread Maker’s Lament by havisham; Morwen & OFC, t, 1k, nawa.

A young woman, living in First Age Hithlum, grapples with grief and loss, and bakes bread.

The Carpenter’s Son by @kareenvorbarra; OFC/OMC, m, 9k, rape/noncon.

An untold story of conquered Dor-lómin, in which an Easterling carpenter has a child by his Hadorian slave.

The Constant Gardner by tehta; OFC & Egalmoth, t, 4k, nawa.

Running Yavanna’s errands in First Age Middle-earth is a tough job, but someone has to do it.

To die in the light by @skyeventide; Maedhros & OFC, m, 6k, violence.

A thrall escapes Angband. This is the journey of what comes after.

Dwell in death’s shadow by @undercat-overdog; Curufin/Wife, g, 3.5k, nawa.

A child eavesdrops on an argument he was never meant to hear.

an ecstatic accident by void and fire by Chestnut_Pod; g, 0.5k, nawa.

Follow the blue roads of Arda.

The Elf Who Circumnavigated Arda in a Ship of Their Own Making by @arofili​; OC & OFC, g, 1k, nawa

Three letters home from a Telerin adventurer.

Far Too Many of You Dying by @starspray; OFC & Teleri, t, 1k, cntw.

After the Noldor depart, Alqualondë is left reeling.

Four Winters by @aipilosse; Celegorm & OFC, t, 6k, nawa.

Four winters in the life of Gwíneth, daughter of Urthel. A rescue, a hunt, a fall, and the abyss.

His Hour Had Come by @polutrope; Saeros & OFC, g, 1k, nawa.

Saeros' daughter reflects on the life and actions of her father.

Lost at Sea by starspray, Uinen & OFC, 0.4k, g, nawa.

An Avarin elf accidentally gets lost at sea and gets stuck halfway onto the Straight Road. Uinen helps out.

These Newborn Shores by @kazaera; t, 14k, nawa.

It's the early Second Age and the Host of the Valar have just departed. The disparate refugees now sitting on the new shores of Lindon, tasked with building the fleet of Númenor even as they are still reeling from Beleriand's destruction, must find a way to move forward despite their losses.

Figuring out where to get their clothes from would be a good place to start.

Not by the Hand of Man by Sath, Tar-Miriel/OFC, e, 7k, nawa.

After his chief priestess is assassinated, Sauron summons his most powerful servant, a woman of Far Harad, to Númenor.

on a long road (miles to go) by Solanaceae, g, 5k, cntw.

Andreth in the House of Adanel.

One Who Holds by @slightnettles Elrond & OFC, g, 4k, nawa.

As the War of Wrath and the breaking of Beleriand approach, a woman of the Easterlings meets a young Elrond.

SeaLight by Anerea; g, 0.3k, nawa.

A Telerin Elf's first experience of the waters of Belegaer, at the end of the Great Journey.

A Seduction by The_Wavesinger; Tar-Miriel/OFC, e, 2k, cntw.

Tar-Míriel attempts to take revenge on her husband by seducing his sister.

Si la mar fuera de leche by Chestnut_Pod, Elros/OFC, Elros & OCs, t, 23k, nawa.

Ten years after the Valar pulled Númenor dripping from the sea, Elros receives a visitor.

Starlit Waves by raiyana; Cirdan/OFC, m, 2k, nawa.

“Congratulations, my love, you have made a plank. Yet again.”   Dry tones teased his ears softly, the silent footsteps of his beloved Ngilith giving him no warning of her approach.

Talathien by maerzkindt; Haleth & OFCs g, 7k, nawa.

Linnoril, a woman from the group later known as House of Hador, returns to her mother's folk of the Haladin and joins the guard. An exploration of reconnecting, forming new bonds and playing fast and loose with First Age Edain lore.

The Thousand Stories by herenortherenearnorfar; OFC/OFC, t, 19k, mcd.

They're important, the myths people tell about themselves, about their histories. You can learn a lot from a tale or seven.

A Traitor’s Issue by herenortherenearnorfar; OFC & OFC,t, 16k, violence.

Ulfang's daughters(in-law) seek aid in the aftermath. Reckoning with their own grief and choices (or lack thereof) they navigate Angband, the nightmare they grew up with, now the only place they can turn for help.

The “Unmarried” Queen - Deficiencies in Numenorean Scholarship by Sath; Tar-Telperien/OFC, g, 1k, nawa.

Rosie Cotton and Samwise Gamgee's granddaughter, a scholar of short stature and lofty goals, finds an earth-shattering document being used to steady a table leg in Minas Tirith.

Willow-Meads by Narya_Flame; g, 5k, nawa.

a willow-spirit, some places she went, and the people she met.

the wind that shakes the mountain by platinum_firebird; OFC/OFC, t, 2k, nawa.

The tale of Mazlav, daughter of Temolv, chieftain of the Uzba clan; and of how she met her lover and companion-in-arms, Aalta of Ishahú.

With the Stars in the Darkness and the Love in the Light by Zdenka; Haleth/OFC, Haleth/Goldberry, Nellas/Goldberry, t, 3k, nawa.

At Nienor's request, the women of Brethil share stories and songs about Haleth, the river's daughter, and those they loved.

[sixbynine-da]

I did the omegaverse thing! :D My @goodomensafterdark Pride exchange gift fic for @mageofthepeople finished just in time! 

And sneaking in to post just before pride weekend is over 😀

They have the full piece as their gift you all can wait for me to slowly post it over the next few weeks 😛

This is particularly special to me because this pride has been the first one I’ve really felt able to honestly participate in even if it is just in this small way.

In part my confidence to do so is down to the @goodomensafterdark community, in general, but also to the many many queer folk I found there who were not only incredibly welcoming but very forthcoming and informative in a way that simply wasn’t an option open to me when I was younger. It’s taken me a pretty long time to find my part of the rainbow but I’m getting there!

<3 ANYWAY. MOVING ON. FIC and stuff.

Summary: 

Aziraphale has finally come of age and is being presented to society to find a suitable alpha to provide children and carry on the Easterling legacy.

To bad she has no interest in any of that, and is more than capable of letting that opinion be known.

At least until she crosses paths with a mysterious stranger who has secrets of his own.

Beta’d by @fuzzygoblin and @onedappercat 

Whom i lured in under the false pretence of it not being that long then spat out almost 30k. Soz. my bad. thankyouthankyouthankyou

Excerpt:

Aziraphale eyed up the window; they were on the second floor, but it would hardly be the first time she’d climbed out a second or third floor window. She looked out of it and down below: gravel and bushes. There was a ledge underneath she could hang off to lower the drop. It probably wouldn’t be very dignified, but there was no one around to see her. Once out, it wouldn’t take her long to walk home. Mama and Michaela would be furious once they came home and found her, but at least she’d be free of this corset and any more banal chit chat from dull boys with dull interests. 

Decision made, she looked down at the long skirt and train of the dress. Tearing it was unthinkable; it was a family heirloom and every Easterling girl had worn it. Muriel was eagerly awaiting her turn. Mama would likely be far more furious over that than anything else. Aziraphale unwound the length of golden ribbon in her hair, letting her curls fall loosely over her shoulders as it came undone. She tied it around her waist firmly and gathered her skirts between her legs, hauling the weight of fabric up and tucking it through the ribbon until her feet were free and her dress resembled very loose breeches. 

Aziraphale put her hands on the side of the window frame and lifted a leg.

“Going somewhere?”

Continue on AO3!

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Favourite Female Tolkien Character Poll - Round 3, Match 4

Today’s two polls are for First-Age Edain women!

Morwen

Túrin’s mother, and probably the most fully-characterized older human woman we get in Tolkien’s writings. Is proud, determined, sharp, and reluctant to be dependent on anyone. She and her husband Húrin have an excellent relationship. Loses everything in her life, and bears up under it with a spine of steel: sends Túrin to Doriath for fostering to keep him safe; survives with a newborn child despite the dangerous hostility of the Easterling occupiers, who accuse her of witchcraft, and their theft of nearly all her belongings; escapes to Doriath with her daughter Nienor. When she hears of Túrin and the fall of Nargothrond, absolutely insists on looking for him, alone if necessary. We don’t see anything if what happened to her between then and the moment when Húrin finds her at their children's gravestone, weary and worn. He gives her the best epitaph of any character in Tolkien: “She was not conquered.”

Nienor

Túrin’s younger sister; she is born after he goes to Doriath, so they never see each other as children. Brave but sensible; she tries to talk Morwen into remaining in Doriath and letting trained rangers search for Túrin, saying that the advice of Melian should not be disregarded, but when she cannot, chooses to go with her.

“Mourning you named me, but I will not mourn alone, for father, brother, and mother. But of these you only have I known, and above all do I love. And nothing that you fear not do I fear.”

Glaurung wipes her memory of everything, including her own name, and Morgoth’s curse sends her fleeing towards Brethil where Túrin is. Sensing something familiar in him, she falls in love with him and they marry. Glaurung’s last words after Túrin stabs him are restoring her memories and revealing to her her own identity; at the realization, she casts herself to her death in the canyon.