#herald of melkor

[saintstars]

Herald of Melkor

(Toxic by Britney Spears starts playing)

~ Langon concept

[partfae]

Sauron, Galadriel, & Tolkien's Theology of Repentance - Part One

Summary: Character meta analysis on Sauron (and Galadriel, through the lens of Sauron). Based on both Silmarillion & RoP canon. 3.5k words. Discussion of Catholic theology involved. Blanket TW for discussion of violence, manipulation, etc., because Sauron. Spoilers for S1 & S2 and the Silmarillion, of course. The tragedy of Sauron is that he gets offered so many legitimate chances at redemption and forgiveness, and he denies them every single time. But we know he wants absolution, because that’s what he sees Galadriel as: his chance to bind himself back to the light, to be Mairon again, to heal the pain that he caused and that was caused to him under Morgoth. But because he has such a warped view of himself and his actions, he dismisses genuine extensions of compassion, forgiveness, and care as simultaneously beneath him and too good for him. And yet, he still pursues redemption, but through none of the channels offered to him.

In The Rings of Power, he’s given the explicit instruction to change for the good in the village after he’s reborn. He’s given the chance leave his past behind and work meaningfully in Númenor. He’s given the chance to redeem himself by Galadriel's offer of friendship (or love, depending on your interpretation). In the Silmarillion, he's even given the chance by Eönwë himself, and comes close to leaving Morgoth behind completely!

Let's look at this passage from Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age (emphasis mine):

When Thangorodrim was broken and Morgoth overthrown, Sauron put on his fair hue again and did obeisance to Eönwë the herald of Manwë, and abjured all his evil deeds. And some hold that this was not at first falsely done, but that Sauron in truth repented, if only out of fear, being dismayed by the fall of Morgoth and the great wrath of the Lords of the West. But it was not in the power of Eönwë to pardon those of his own order, and he commanded Sauron to return to Aman and there receive the judgement of Manwë. Then Sauron was ashamed, and he was unwilling to return in humiliation to receive from the Valar a sentence, it might be, of long servitude in proof of his good faith; for under Morgoth his power had been great. Therefore when Eönwë departed he hid himself in Middle-earth; and he fell back into evil, for the bonds that Morgoth had laid upon him were very strong.

This passage is clear that Eönwë is willing to pardon Sauron--he simply did not posses the power to do so. But when Sauron was told he must appeal directly Manwë, he gave up entirely and skulked back to Middle-earth. There are a few ways to read this:

1. He was not wholly repentant

Sauron simply wanted the protection of a new master in the absence of Melkor. i.e., he was rather fickle and simply wanted to be on whatever the "winning" side was. This is supported by the text literally saying that at least some of his obeisance was completely false, and that he only made a point of feeling bad about anything once his master had been chucked into the Void and his armies and strongholds were being destroyed (Thangorodrim). In this reading, perhaps Eönwë saw Sauron's treachery and referred him to Manwë knowing that it would be a test of his true intent. However, while a valid interpretation, I believe this to be the less holistic of the two.

2. He was truly repentant

Sauron did truly feel badly and "abjured all his evil deeds," but he was unwilling/unable to humble himself after being so fundamentally broken by Melkor and developing an insatiable power lust (hey, he isn't defined in the narrative by lust and pride for nothing).

Earlier in this same chapter, Tolkien wrote that Sauron could "...deceive all but the most wary." This is in the specific context of his physical shapeshifting. But, I would argue that this can also be tied to his lies. Tolkien has a specific ethic of beauty, where physical perfection is equated with moral goodness. Sauron completely inverts what is otherwise a hard and fast rule within Tolkien's writings by being the character most frequently described as "fair"--seven times to Lúthien's six, and she was the most beautiful woman to have ever lived!

(Side note: I have another post on Tolkien & beauty in the works where I'll get more into this idea)

Why does this matter? Even though this interaction with Eönwë takes place in the First Age, Sauron could at this point be in the demonic form Mirdania describes in the forge. And, I am inclined to believe that Eönwë, as the head Maiar and herald of Manwë, would be a pretty wary guy, and thus able to sense any of Sauron's trickery. I read this to mean that Eönwë looked at Sauron and saw his potential to be Mairon again, either in absence of his evil form or in spite of it.

Because Sauron is incredibly beautiful. And even if it is a disguise of the true, depreciated form of his spiritual essence, he presented himself to Eönwë at his most beautiful. He wanted, even in his act of repentance, to make himself more favorable in Eönwë's eyes. To show up as Mairon (who was likely close friends with Eönwë before everything went down, since they are considered to be two of the most powerful Maia and would have worked closely together).

But I don't think this was all manipulation on Sauron's end. I agree with the scholars mentioned in the text who believed that Sauron was truly repentant--which is why Eönwë even bothered referring him to Manwë instead of kicking him into the Void with Melkor.

And this is the tragedy: Sauron is told exactly how to repent, and believes fundamentally that it is an impossible path for him. And yet, he still longs so intrinsically for it! He was, under Aulë, a Maia of precision, perfection, and order. Under Morgoth, he feels disordered, dis-regulated. He needs to correct the fundamental imbalance within him, so why does he flee Eönwë?

It comes back to Sauron's pride.

If he follows through with this path of reconciliation, there is no way he can hide or pretend his actions away. If he cannot trick his fellow Maiar, he certainly cannot trick the Valar. And he cannot stand the idea of submitting himself back under their rule, especially now that he has tasted power. This is a pride wound; it is why the idea of confessing to Manwë would be humiliating to him as opposed to just upsetting/uncomfortable.

Again, the pivotal moment: he is told how to make amends for crimes and determines that he cannot do it. So he returns to Middle-earth and stews in his own self-hated and self-pity for a few years. In that time, he consciously or subconsciously latches onto Eönwë's offer--forgiveness from penance. It is the way forward. And if he cannot earn penance at Manwë's hand, he will do it on his own.

The Prodigal Son

This is where we have to talk about the Catholic roots of Tolkien's work for a moment. The scene where Sauron approaches Eönwë mirrors the biblical parable of the prodigal son. In this story, a man abandons his family, spends all his money, and falls into ruin. But when he recognizes his failings and returns to his father to get help, he is welcomed back into the family without question--in other words, he is forgiven and restored to his former position.

17 But when he [the prodigal son] came to himself he said, “How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! 18 I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.’” 20 So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. - Luke 15:11-32, NRSV CE (emphasis mine)

The parallel is clear; Mairon, the repentant Maia, returns home with hopes of reconciliation. He is prescribed the same task that the prodigal son offered to his father: he must be bound in servitude to his father/creator in order to pay off his debts. This is a deliberate allusion from Tolkien. The story of the prodigal son models the path of reconciliation that Eönwë describes. Tolkien seems to be drawing a line in the sand with this: Sauron is unwilling to do the work required by the Valar for repentance, so he is unable to receive the grace of a warm welcome back into the fold of the Ainur. Since he did not humble himself, he has to be told to do it. And he does not want to! He wants to be loved, but he also wants his power--evidence, in a way, of how his character was fundamentally altered in his time with Morgoth.

His pride--and his fear--cut him off from the potential of grace. He does not know for certain that Manwë would subject him to servitude (though I would argue that it's textually evident that it is a custom), but this assumption leads him to flee, which allows him to slip back into his old ways.

He wants to be Mairon (admirable) again, not Sauron (abhorrent). He wants to be accepted and loved, but not punished. He wants the benefits of reconciliation without the work he would have to do to earn it or the shame he would feel as he did. It's pride, but it's also deep shame--the flip side of his extreme ego is an implicit self-hatred, one that we can see in the subtext of how he speaks about himself and about his time with Morgoth.

Even the language Tolkien uses is heavily shame-coded, especially in a Catholic context; Mairon did not go willingly, he was "seduced." He admits to Celebrimbor that he was "tortured by a god". It becomes exceedingly clear through both text and on-screen canon that Sauron was routinely broken and abused for centuries. This has fundamentally damaged his self-perception, which is ultimately what leads him to "[fall] back into evil"--whether due to pride or shame, he hides, perhaps because he consciously or subconsciously does not believe that he deserves forgiveness, no matter how much he craves it.

Naked in the Garden

His flight back to Middle-earth after meeting Eönwë is reminiscent of another biblical scene, where Adam and Eve, after committing the first sin, hide from God in shame and fear (emphasis mine):

7 Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked...9 But the Lord God called to the man, and said to him, “Where are you?” 10 He said, “I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked; and I hid myself.” -Genesis 7-10, NRSV CE

The image of nakedness is, here, one of vulnerability, and Tolkien establishes that Sauron fears that which he cannot control. He needs the Rings under his power. He needs his armies and his enemies under his watchful eye. He is petrified of letting his power slip away (possibly due to never wanting to feel powerless in the hands of a Vala, fallen or not, again).

The biblical allusion here hearkens back to the fear Tolkien describes Sauron as feeling regarding his return to the Ainur. In the religious system Tolkien has established, which is likely inspired by his own religious beliefs, Sauron has sinned, and must make penance. But he is afraid of God/Manwë, and does not want to "let go" of his sin. In other words, he is not truly repentant. This reflects the Catholic sacrament of confession, which requires self-reflection and resolve to never commit the sin again.

Instead of shame driving him to contrition, it drives him to isolation.

But he still wants forgiveness. So, in his years of hiding in Middle-earth, he decides to earn it himself. His own way.

Enter the Rings.

Sauron wants to perfect the wrong he wreaked so that he can both earn his way back into the Ainur and keep his power. But what he does not realize is that this does not work. Eönwë is clear that he must forsake his true temptation--absolute power--through penance by submission. Yet Sauron in his pride thinks he can have it all. Sauron is a very carefully controlled villain, and the only times he snaps or makes significant mistakes are when his inflated self-perception is challenged, revealing the self-loathing and/or self-pity underneath. The best example of this is when he kills Celebrimbor prematurely, and cries afterwards. Why? Because Celebrimbor was right about him, and he hates it. He hates knowing that he is nothing more than the Morgoth's shadow, because Morgoth was his master as much as he was his tormentor. As Sauron puts it, his relationship with Morgoth was often defined by pain as a test to see "whose will was the mightier":

This image carries more shame, both in its implicit sexual connotations and in the simple power dynamic of it. Sauron, even though misguided, is rallying against Morgoth. He wants to break what Morgoth has created and build something new, something better, something apart from his old master entirely. But Celebrimbor confronts him with reality: he has not created something new, and perfect, and special, as he so wanted to--he can only act in imitation, not in generation. And when he got close with the Rings, it cost him everything. It's almost like he wants the power of a Vala, and loathes that he cannot attain it.

And this is why he becomes so singularly obsessed with Galadriel.

She’s his foil. They both crave power and adoration, but in the end of things, she does not fold under his temptation. She turns down everything she has ever wanted for the greater good and for the sake of her own soul. Sauron looks at Galadriel and perceives that she would have succeeded at Eönwë's test because she is willing and able to humble herself. This maddens him to the point of both desiring her and desiring to break her.

She learns that she is easily tempted and becomes strong enough to handle it (through a lot of tough love from Elrond & co.). She has to learn how to do it, but she is able to.

She grows from someone who resisted and rejected authority to someone who is trusted as an authority because of her ability to wield it wisely (see: Gil-galad allowing her to answer for him in 2x08).

In other words, she earns the trust, love, and support of her community. Sauron has to force his to comply—it is an illusion of love.

His possessive obsession with her also stems from her fairness. She was the object of her uncle Fëanor's obsessive desire for creation as well. Her hair was the inspiration of the Silmarils (see: The History of Galadriel and Celeborn; The Shibboleth of Fëanor - source with page #s here), which Morgoth desired more than anything to possess.

Sauron, wanting to spite his master, wants one better--to own that which inspired the Silmarils, to own the image of fairness (and thus of moral good) completely. This is why he wants to bind himself to her. This is why he needs her. He sees Galadriel as his mechanism of repentance, and his last triumph over Morgoth. Winning her is his salvation as much as it is proving that his will is the mightier. It is his way of dominating Morgoth. This starts, I think, as a genuine effort at proving himself to the Valar, but quickly consumes him entirely. He is overcome with the desire for revenge, just as Galadriel was at the beginning of the First Age.

And he sees this in her. Sees their similarities. Sees that she, too, is angry and lonely and so afraid of losing her power. And he leverages that to befriend her. This is where it gets ambiguous and you can read RoP as either painting the image of Sauron being earnest but completely misguided in his proposal, or you can see it as him being entirely manipulative.

I think the truth of that scene probably falls somewhere in the middle; just like when he presents himself to Eönwë, he is sincere in his desire, but only knows how to present it in an inherently contriving way. He does want to bind her to him, so he tries to only reveal to her the good aspect of that desire (and also of his desire for power, which he allows her to see because he believes that it is good and also because she understands it), and not the ugly underside of his internal struggle against Morgoth, the Valar, and himself.

And I do think, in his own way, he cared about her. Galadriel consistently shows kindness and compassion to him. In S1, they grow to know each other's minds and souls, and she considers him a close friend. He finds comfort in this, that someone could see the blackness of his heart and care for him anyway. He thought, in his isolation, that he lost that chance when he fled back to Middle-earth. And here is the very picture of the light itself telling him that she supports him, that she sees the good in him, that she wants to help him set the world to rights! Of course he is infatuated by this. Of course he also wants to use it. He is Sauron.

But Galadriel succeeds where he fails, so he stops playing nice and tries to forcibly drag her down with him. First, by baiting her with the image of the man she cared deeply for:

Then, by reminding her of all she is losing by rejecting him:

And she is still strong enough to say no. And not just to say no, but to shut the door completely. To look in the face of everything she has desired for centuries and turn it down, understanding that it will ruin her. Yes, she hesitates. Yes, she still wants it (wants him). But she wins the day by holding fast to the light that Sauron wishes so badly to bind himself to.

Because she has lost everything--her brother, her husband, the station as commander, the trust of her high king and best friend--and earns it back only through her resistance of her greatest temptation. It is a struggle, it is painful, it nearly kills her--but she does it. She wins the test that Sauron could not even bear to face.

In their headlong, self-sacrificial tendencies, they are the same. Both view themselves as fundamentally stronger/better than their peers while also being deeply lonely due to their self-imposed isolation (Galadriel's laser-focused hunt for revenge, Sauron's exile in Middle-earth). But to Galadriel, the light is more important than her pride.

For Sauron, the light is his source of pride. He desires it more than anything, but condemns himself to never being able to touch it due to his rejection of Eönwë's offer. Paradoxically, he tries to grasp at it through Galadriel, the living silmaril, and succeeds only in darkening her. We learn from Gil-galad in 2x08 that his crown piercing her flesh in an act of brutal domination nearly strips her soul from her and pitches it into the unseen world. In this, Sauron is saying: If I cannot have you, I will force you to need me. I will break you into loving me.

He says this to Celebrimbor as well. He no longer knows how to love properly. He only knows how to inflict pain until this object of his obessive desire needs him--just like how his immortal spirit was broken into submission by Morgoth. And isn't this revealing of his own sense of self? He refuses to suffer the path of light, but willingly suffers the maddening path of darkness because it is a comfortable, familiar suffering. One, he tells Celebrimbor, he even grew to enjoy (2x08). As the path of the Rings drive him madder and madder, his desire for the light (Galadriel) and the return of his power (Celebrimbor) become further disordered and corrupted until they culminate in him destroying them--and his chance at earning/owning them--entirely.

And this is Sauron's ultimate point of no return (which we will hopefully see in S3 🤞). The razing of Eregion and slaying of Celebrimbor were acts of petty rage he committed when his pride was injured. This was the final nail in the coffin. Galadriel, in her rejection of him, ruins what he sees as his true chance for redemption.

Galadriel, now stepping into the role of Eönwë, re-opens the invitation: "Heal yourself!" (2x08). But in rage and shame and stubborn pride, he turns it down again. I believe this is where his desire to heal Middle-earth shifts fundamentally into desire to dominate Middle-earth. He always wanted to rule, but now he wants to own.

[conundrumoftime]

More fandom things from my Twitter, this one about why I liked that Rings of Power set up Galadriel and Sauron as not just opposed to but mirroring each other, because - in some versions of Galadriel’s story as Tolkien developed it - they do have a fair amount in common.

Both are in Middle-earth as a result of rebellions against the Valar; both are offered a pardon that they refuse through pride & reluctance to give up power:

Sauron wanting to rule Middle-earth is pretty obvious but Galadriel’s desire is also for ‘dominion’ over her own lands - extending in one description to ‘the dominion of Middle-earth of which she had dreamed’:

And there’s similarity too in their Second Age stories about the form the power they desire takes. Both of them talk about wanting to free Middle-earth from the marring of Melkor and make it more Valinor-like (Annatar speaking in the first text photo there):

You could argue that Annatar’s probably lying here and feeding into what he knows the elves already want, but the idea of him wanting to rule a perfected, improved Middle-earth fits at least his earlier motives better than him wanting to wreck it:

And both of their prideful desires for rebellion and ruling are described as Morgoth’s influence acting upon them:

And it’s interesting that Sauron’s descent into tyranny is described as starting from an interest in the well-being of his people and then the power becoming an end in itself; and that Galadriel in LOTR seems to think she’d go the same way. (Third picture is Sam speaking to Galadriel in LOTR, after he's seen visions of bad things happening in the Shire)

All photos are mine, apologies for the terrible quality; they're from Unfinished Tales, the Silmarillion, Morgoth's Ring, and Lord of the Rings. If you want a more specific reference or context for any of them then ask away.

(I am going to ask nicely that people do not lift these images and use them for ship war ammo elsewhere. If you are doing this anyway, though, be aware that all of them have a faint watermark of Thingol's heraldic device, so you're now promoting the royal house of Doriath and Celeborn thanks you for your service 👍)

[ardafanonarch]

Is there any basis in canon for Fëanor and his followers wearing red? I know he and his sons have "tall helms with plumes of red", but that's the only mention of the colour in any sort of symbolic connection to them that I can think of.

Fëanorian Red

Jumping the Inbox queue for you because this is a fairly easy one to answer.*

You're right! The idea of Fëanor and his followers wearing red is fanon. I would speculate it comes from two sources:

1. The passage you identified

And Fëanor made a secret forge, of which not even Melkor was aware; and there he tempered fell swords for himself and for his sons, and made tall helms with plumes of red. The Silmarillion, "Of the Silmarils and the Unrest of the Noldor"

2. The fact that we do know Fingolfin's colours were blue and silver

But as the host of Fingolfin marched into Mithrim the Sun rose flaming in the West; and Fingolfin unfurled his blue and silver banners... The Silmarillion, "Of the Return of the Noldor"

The "blue and silver" banners are again referred to when Fingon is killed in the Nirnaeth, and in Fingolfin's duel with Morgoth his shield is described as blue.

So it makes sense to me that the fandom would set Fëanor's House up in contrast to Fingolfin's by making his colours red -- supported, perhaps, by the mention of their red-plumed helms.

Red is also, of course, a colour historically and culturally associated with passion, violence, and war -- all things that rather suit the House of Fëanor. (Red, it bears mentioning, is a very common colour for helmet plumes -- either contributing to or because of red's association with war.)

Tolkien's design for Fëanor's heraldic device does contain some red, but its most striking element is perhaps the rainbow centre in a blue circle, and the most dominant colour is yellow.

*Opening the floor, as always, to any other evidence of the Fëanorian colour being red that might be buried deep in the lore where I have not found it.

Thanks to this Reddit post for doing a lot of the research for me.

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

What's the deal with Sauron and Elrond connection in Season 2?

We all know of Sauron’s obsession with Galadriel, but what about how Elrond kept showing up on his plot in Season 2?

First, we have this interaction with Prince Durin in 2x03; where Annatar/Sauron joins Celebrimbor conversation with Durin and Disa, and they are discussing Elrond. And Durin sees right through him.

I assure you, Herald Elrond said he could think of little else. than helping his Dwarven friends. He speaks of you so fondly. […] Elrond said that you were the wisest of all the Dwarves.

Prince Durin being suspicious of Sauron might be a Easter egg for Tolkien nerds, because Mairon was a Maia of Aulë, and betrayed his Vala to join Melkor/Morgoth. The Dwarves are Children of Aulë, created by Aulë himself as companions (I won’t go into the whole tale in here because it’s beside the point). So having one of them being distrusting of Sauron, and seeing right through his deception can be a nod to that.

Anyway, this is not the last time Elrond will show up in connection with Sauron in Season 2. In 2x05, when attempting to manipulate Celebrimbor into making the Nine for Men, Sauron gives a few examples of Men who rose above darkness (and he must have been screaming internally mentioning every one of them):

Yes. You are right. Of course. Men are capable of great frailty. But when the darkness falls, there are always some who rise forth and shine. Eärendil, Tuor, Beren, son of Barahir.

Eärendil is Elrond’s father, and son of Tuor (Elrond’s grandfather who married Elwing, Lúthien and Beren’s granddaughter). Which means, Sauron is going through all of Elrond’s genealogy in this scene.

And then, Adar, in 2x07, mentions Melian; Elrond’s ancestor. We have both Sauron and Adar bringing up Elrond’s ancestry in Season 2.

In fact, the entire “tent scene” with Adar and Elrond in 2x07 is a direct parallel to Adar and Sauron’s scenes, in Mordor, in 2x01:

Both scenes, start with Adar sitting down in a place of power, and getting up to approach Halbrand/Elrond;

Both Elrond/Halbrand-Sauron meet Adar with the same purpose: “let my people/Galadriel go”. Or "yours will die". In 2x01 this is explicit, in 2x07 it’s the subtext;

Adar rubs the might of his war forces and Orc legions on Elrond and Sauron's faces, and how they can’t possible expect to defeat him;

In both scenes, "Sauron" is mentioned in connection with the Elves and Eregion;

In both scenes, Sauron and Elrond use the Orcs lives as leverage against Adar:

In 2x01, Galadriel is mentioned by Sauron, and in 2x07, she’s actually there, and she’s the prisoner (instead of Sauron) and the “my people” Elrond is actually there to free;

Adar is deceived by Sauron and Elrond in both scenes: swearing fealty (2x01); the pin (2x07).

Death threats coming full circle between 2x01 and 2x07, with Sauron and Elrond:

Adar (2x01): You will tell me everything you think you know of this sorcerer now. Or I will spill the words from your throat.

Adar (2x07): The Ring for Galadriel's life. What is it to be? Elrond (2x07): Ask me on the field, when the neck with a blade against it is yours.

What's the backstory?

Back in 1x08, Sauron/Halbrand also spent weeks with Elrond in Eregion, since he was also there the entire time, overseeing the work alongside Galadriel; since this was the task Gil-galad appointed to him.

Elrond is the one who finds Galadriel in the Glanduin river, after she rejects Sauron’s offer and he flees.

And despite Galadriel keeping Halbrand’s true identity under wraps, and not revealing what truly happened, Elrond is the one who puts two and two together, and realizes Halbrand is not the King of the Southlands, and tricked them.

Season 2

However, only in 2x01, Elrond is made aware that Halbrand was, in fact, Sauron, when Galadriel herself reveals it to him and Gil-galad.

And Elrond is furious, because he absolutely trusted Galadriel, and that trust is now broken. Galadriel did allowed the Three rings of power to be forged, even though she knew that Sauron has been at Eregion all along.

Adding this to fact that Galadriel was so obsessed in finding Sauron in Season 1, and even talked about this with Elrond himself in 1x01, when he advises her to return to Valinor and find healing there:

During Season 2, Elrond is also the one who sees right through the rings of power, and understands they might be a ploy on Sauron’s masterplan. And he’s absolutely right. Because we know, from Tolkien legendarium, the Three are connected to Sauron’s power, and become mere pieces of jewelry when the One Ring gets destroyed on the Third Age, losing all of its magical properties. “Rings of Power” build upon this, and had Sauron himself at Eregion, handling the mithril (and probably infusing it with his intention to heal Middle-earth from Morgoth’s corruption, which is his goal).

In Season 2, Elrond is, clearly, Sauron’s greatest opponent in his rings of power plot concerning the Elves. Until he, too, gets deceived, because we know from Tolkien’s letters, these rings are not “wholly good” and the Elves are in the wrong by using them.

Anyway, Elrond not only attempts to have the rings destroyed (wrecking Sauron’s plan), but he also keeps antagonizing Galadriel by her wearing Nenya, perhaps in the hope she might take it off, or see the ring as evil. And Sauron is aware of all of this.

And can this be the reason why Elrond also seems to be on Sauron’s mind? Indeed, but there also might be another reason on top of this.

@love-and-doom shared one of their theories with me, and I think it makes sense, and explains a lot. According to them, Sauron might blame Elrond for his failure in bringing Galadriel to his side in 1x08.

Galadriel herself confessed to Celebrimbor, in 2x07, that she wanted to take Sauron’s offer and that she wanted what he offered her (be Queen of Middle-earth with Sauron as her king). And, maybe, had not Elrond show up, Sauron might have succeeded. What this theory implies is that Sauron show Galadriel the vision of her drowning in the Sundering Seas (the moment when he saved her), but we don’t know how this vision was supposed to end from Sauron POV because Elrond shows up and Sauron has to flee.

Sauron clearly has the background check on Elrond (as we’ve seen in 2x05), and is aware he is a thorn on his side. This might also be another Easter egg because of Sauron vs. Melian during the First Age; and not only Melian herself but Melian’s daughter (Lúthien), too, who was responsible for Sauron’s greatest and most spectacular defeat.

Then, we also have other parallels between these two characters:

Sauron and Elrond in connection with white horses:

Sauron's illusion in 2x06:

Elrond mourns his horse, 2x07:

Elrond and Sauron (+ Galadriel) with the same face wound (Elrond in 2x07; and Sauron and Galadriel in 2x08):

I saw several fans making the comparison of these wounds with Arwen’s in “Fellowship of the Ring”, because it’s on the same side and very similar, indeed.

However, I’m not sure what is this suppose to mean: Elrond is Arwen's father, and Galadriel is her grandmother, yes, but what does Sauron have to do with it?

Then, Elrond is the one who picks up Nenya (the ring Sauron wanted), and uses it to heal Galadriel, in 2x08:

He also returns Nenya to Galadriel, as a nod to their scene in 2x04; when Galadriel gives it to him for safe keeping, and he reluctantly agrees. Now he returns the ring in good will, to symbolize the end of their feud, and how Elrond now trusts the Three:

I’m curious to see if this dynamic will continue to play out in Season 3, and I wonder what all of this means.

[hailturinturambar]

MELKOR & SAURON

“When Thangorodrim was broken and Morgoth overthrown, Sauron put on his fair hue again and did obeisance to Eönwë, the herald of Manwë, and abjured all his evil deeds. And some hold that this was not at first falsely done, but that Sauron in truth repented, if only out of fear, being dismayed by the fall of Morgoth and the great wrath of the Lords of the West.

But it was not within the power of Eönwë to pardon those of his own order, and he commanded Sauron to return to Aman and there receive the judgement of Manwë. Then Sauron was ashamed, and he was unwilling to return in humiliation and receive from the Valar a sentence, it might be, of long servitude in proof of his good faith, for under Morgoth his power had been great. Therefore when Eönwë departed he hid himself in Middle-earth; and he fell back into evil, for the bonds that Morgoth had laid upon him were very strong.”

The Silmarillion by J. R. R. Tolkien

[animatorweirdo]

Falling In Love Eonwe/You

Requested by @lamemaster

Heyyy ✋🏻 I miss your Elves/ Maiar reactions posts. So I wanted to request Elves/Maiar reaction to falling in love with their human s/o in all their different lifetimes🙏🏻. Feel free to plan it however you want, headcanon or one-shot 🥰🥰 I just love this concept so much it lives in my mind rent free :D

(Author note: Hey, I couldn't come up with a perfect scenario that could have added several characters with a human s/o, then I was reminded of Mairon Fallin in love, so I made another analysis like headcanon with Eonwe that goes his lifetimes of falling in love with his s/o. I hope you are okay with this one. )

Warnings: some angst, fluff, relationship stuff, mentions of the kin slaying, wars, death, Eonwe being a confused birdbrain, and hope you have the patience to read it all.

------------------------------------------------

- Eonwe gives me the impression that he would be a very devoted type, taking his role as Manwe’s herald. He would be loyal and treat you well if you somehow ended up in a relationship with him. However, he also gives me the impression that he would have no idea how relationships work, especially if you aren’t from the same race as him. 

- If you were a maiar, you two would have probably been good friends from the beginning and close in general and the thought of being in a romantic relationship had not crossed your minds. You two would give the vibe of being obliviously in love.  

- Eonwe would have been more young-minded and would probably not realize how much he likes being in your presence. 

- If you serve under the same valar, you would spend a lot of time together doing your duties. You would be each other’s loyal companions and it would be uncommon for you two to be on your own. If you serve under a different valar, Eonwe would then visit you often in the domain of your valar. 

- If you are a loyal type yourself, then you two would most likely survive through the thick and thick of the first years of Arda, and perhaps when Eonwe realizes his deep feelings for you and becomes more mature in the matter of courting, he would ask you to be his spouse, especially if you two have a strong foundation of loyalty and companionship. 

- Manwe and Varda would have most likely pushed him to confess and eventually ask you to marry him. 

- However, if you were tempted by Melkor and joined him, Eonwe would have been confused and heartbroken. He would have realized his feelings too late and be left hoping you would eventually return to the light. If you did, then he would be there to welcome you with open arms, if not, then he would only feel sadness in losing you. 

- If you were an elf, Eonwe would have some idea of how to interact with you but be very confused about his sudden rise of feelings toward you. He would worry it is appropriate for him to seek a relationship with you, and try not to step over your boundaries. 

- Eonwe would likely need a lot of reassurance, and perhaps a push from Manwe, to finally have the courage to ask to court you. 

- You will most likely have to teach him the basics and the norms in courting an elf. He would be familiar with the Vanyar, but not on deeper levels. He had likely interacted with them on official business. 

- Physical touch would most likely feel strange for him at first, but if you are patient and gentle, he would grow to like it. 

- It wouldn’t matter much to Eonwe from which elven clan you come from. He would focus more on your personality and what kind of person you are. 

- Eonwe values loyalty and a good heart in a person. He would not mind if you were slightly mischievous and caused harmless pranks, even finding some amusement in them. However, if you were a teaser type, he would be pretty shy and wouldn’t know how to interact if you kept teasing his poor heart.

- He does not appreciate evil and harm caused to others. If you were part of the Noldor and joined the kin slaying, then he would be upset and heartbroken. If not but decided to leave Aman with your people, he would understand your loyalty to your family, and patiently wait for the day when the valars would grant you mercy and allow you to return. 

- If you were a Telerin and survived the kin slaying, he would have a close experience of what losing you felt like. He would be there for you as you tried to recover from the whole ordeal. However, if you didn’t survive the kin slaying and ended up in Mandos, he would feel awful sadness and try to plead with Eru himself that you would be able to recover in the soul. 

- If you were a Vanyar. Eonwe would likely be familiar with most of your kin’s customs, having interacted with them way more than the other two clans. There is a high chance you two met at a party or by chance when he had some errands. 

- If you were a Sindar, you two would have met during the war of wrath. He would not be most familiar with Sindarin customs, but if you manage to catch feelings for each other, he would ask you to join him in Valinor at the end of the war. If you accepted, he would be ecstatic, but if you still had business in Middle Earth, he would respect your decision and wait for the day when you would finally sail to the blessed realm. 

- If you were a human, things would be slightly complicated. There could be two ways how you two could have met. 

- One, you two met during the war of wrath. Eonwe would have heard his fair share of things about humans, so he would be intrigued about you once you met. 

- If you didn’t have the most positive view of him and the valars due to their absence in the whole war, he would have difficulties befriending you. However, he would slowly understand you when he learned about all the losses and tragedies you endured. He would feel empathic and become protective of you in a way. 

- He would respect you if you were trying to contribute to the war in your own way.

- He would feel conflicted when he realized his growing feelings toward you since you were not immortal like him or the elves, and neither you nor your kind were permitted to enter the blessed realm. 

- Your time would be limited. He would do his best to ensure your safety during the war, hoping you will live through it and allow for a peaceful life. You two would probably not share anything about your feelings until the last minute when it was time to say goodbye. However, if you did not survive the war, he would silently mourn for you and perhaps feel regret for not telling you of his feelings. 

- If Eonwe decided to stay in Middle Earth for some mission Manwe bestowed upon him, and incidentally met you. You most likely end up as his guide in Middle Earth.

- He would be wearing a disguise or a form that would help him blend in with the people, so you would have no idea he was a Maiar. 

- Eonwe would learn more things about humans from you. He would still share the same conflicted feelings about his growing feelings toward you, but after some counseling and advice from old acquaintances, he may be more open-minded about it. 

- He would eventually reveal the truth about himself to you, and you will either be accepting or there was a chance you already knew about it. It would be impossible not to notice things when you’ve traveled together for some time. 

- If you two got together, you would be a happy pair, and spend as much time together as possible. 

- Eonwe would think you were adorable if you got a big fascination toward his wings and allowed you to play with them even if they were slightly sensitive. 

- Eonwe would most likely stay in Middle Earth to be with you at the end of your days. Or if you contributed to fighting evil and protecting Middle Earth, then maybe the Valars would allow you to stay in Valinor, or perhaps grant you an immortal life so you could stay with Eonwe. 

- There could be a chance becoming immortal would mean that you would be bound to the world and have the same fate as elves, but if you willingly chose that, then Eonwe would be forever devoted to you. 

[nyarnamaitar]

thanks to @mircallaruthven, i am reminded of my hc that mairon is more than a little jealous of manwë and eönwë's bond and the affection that manwë offers so freely to his herald. what's more, manwë doesn't shy away from being openly vulnerable and less-than-lordly in eönwë's presence, which is something that mairon wanted, but never really got from melkor, someone who is all about power and control and stark, iron hierarchy. and although these things were what drew him to melkor in the first place, mairon also silently hoped for a deeper, closer companionship, much like the one manwë and eönwë share. (ironically, tragically, this opportunity for intimacy and openness is what he forsook when he left aulë's halls. and i think that, in some dark, hidden corner of his heart, mairon knew, and might've even regretted, it.)

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

A Lord’s Proposition

Prompts “bite me” ”if you insist” and “each of my thoughts about you are improper”

Pairing: Melkor x Fem. Reader (Elf / Finwë’s daughter with Miriel and Fëanor’s twin| second person POV)

Themes: Slowburn |  Smut (lemon-ish) | Soft

Warnings: Corruption | Oral (Male receiving) | Fingering | Kissing | First time | Marking | Penetrative Sex | Cream pie

Wordcount: 4.9K words

Summary: Melkor had kidnapped you and kept you confined to a tower while he travelled to Utumno. He has now returned, and asks for you.

Rating: 🔥🔥 Minors DNI | 18+

For rules and tag form, read here. 

To the person who requested this, I hope you like it. 

You looked out a barred window, your heart aggrieved by the sight that befell your eyes.

There was no starlight here. None could be found in Angband. The sky was murky black from the thick smog of smoke from the keep’s many furnaces. The air was damp and cold and foul. The scent of ash and smoke and worse crept in through the windows and clung to your garments. Some days, the smell was so strong that it made your eyes water and bile rise at the back of your throat. You had no choice but to bear it all in silence. You were a prisoner, utterly dependent on the favor of the one who held you captive. 

Still, you supposed, it was a better fate than most. You turned your attention from the sky and peered into the gloomy courtyard. Thralls scurried to and fro like mice desperately trying to escape the talons of an eagle. They were like wraiths, mere shadows of the fair and glorious beings they once were. That was how your captor liked to see them: fearful, half-starved, and brought down to the lowest point of their existence.  

Not just them, you realized with great dread. I am one of them. The daughter of a race he loathes with a murderous passion, so the poets and singers say. How long will it be before I am made to sip from the cup that was forced onto them?

Your skin prickled out of fear. You closed the shutters of your window and sharply turned away as soon as a wretched scream carried through the courtyard. You did not want to dwell on that sound or from whom it came. There was no need to feed your nightmares with fresh fodder. 

You studied your chambers like you always did, ever since your capture. The walls and floors were bare black stone, the pelts were thick, and the rushes were new. Besides the old hearth, there was a basket filled with blocks of peat instead of wood for a fire. The bed was small but comfortable. You reflected on the remnants of your last meal. The bread and roasted meat had been fresh, the water was clean and cool.

Mine may be a wretched lot, but it is still better than theirs, you reminded yourself. Much better than theirs. 

Someone knocked on the door. It was loud and insistent. You made haste to answer it, your shoes clicking over the floor. You expected to find a thrall and came face-to-face with her instead.

Thuringwethil, they called her. Woman of the secret shadow. Herald for the Dark Lord. The first vampire. Her eyes gleamed like new rubies. Her wings dragged behind her whenever she walked. A gown was draped over one arm.

"My lady." You quickly dipped to your knees even as the words stumbled out of your mouth. Anything to not anger her. 

A gale of laughter greeted you. It was shrill and painful to the ears, like nails over brittle glass. You had to stop yourself from physically wincing.

"You certainly have good manners, little elf," Thuringwethil replied, and looked over you critically. "That will serve you well with him, I think."

"With him, my lady?" You sputtered in disbelief. "Which him?"

Your mind was a roil. There was more than one him here in Angband, and each one was as mercurial as the next. Was Thuringwethil speaking of Mairon, Melkor’s most favored advisor? Or was she speaking of that Balrog high general? The one who could change from a creature of great beauty to one that inspired nothing but sheer terror? Or was it the Maia who found great joy in changing into a giant cat and tormenting everyone who crossed his path?

"Him," she said, and moved around you in an elegant flourish. Her wings trailed behind her over the floor, all black and deep crimson. You took a deep breath and sighed wistfully. The very air around her smelled like a meadow in full bloom. It did not surprise you. Thuringwethil used to be Yavanna’s Maia after all. "Lord Melkor, no less. He has returned from Utumno and wishes to dine with you."

You gave her a measured look. You were a prisoner, captured and carried off after a daring raid in the heart of Valinor itself. And now you have been invited to dine with your captor, the Lord of Angband, no less. The prospect frightened you. 

"I… I hope I will not offend Lord Melkor," you blurted out, and hoped this invitation was not a ruse to heap unspeakable agony upon you. 

"I see you truly are nothing like that heedless, foul-tempered brother of yours," Thuringwethil observed, not unkindly. "And I promise, he will not be offended by anything you do." 

She did not give you time to think or frame a reply. She went on to add, "Thralls will see to your bath now. An orc will come to fetch you once you have finished."

You shivered and nodded in fright. Thuringwethil took her leave of you, practically floating out of your chambers in a swirl of wings and lace and night-blooming roses. You walked over to your bed and ran the flat of your palm over your new dress. It was soft to the touch and dripping in gems, and finer than any gown you possessed before.

So lavish, you mused. What does he want from me?

There was another knock on your door. This time it was hesitant and timid. "Come in, please," you said, and moved away from the bed. 

Thralls walked in carrying pails of clean, warm water. Another pair brought with them a small copper tub and a towel. A thrall filled the tub with water before adding fragrant oils. Another helped you out of your robes, her eyes downcast. Her fingers fumbled with the sash; it was as if they had all turned into thumbs. You wanted to talk to her, to ask how she came to be here. All you did, in the end, was bite your tongue.

I must take care of what I say to them. It may cause more trouble for them if I do. 

The sweet-smelling water was a welcome relief from the smells of the outside world. The thralls sluiced water over your hair before gently brushing out any tangles. One of them went to work on your nails and feet. It felt strange, to have them wait on you in such a manner. It was stranger still, given the cause for such pampering. 

She said nothing I do could offend him. I am certain now that he must want something from me. What is it? 

You had seen Melkor before. He had come calling on your brother; his words like honey. You were by an upstairs window, looking down on the gardens where they stood. Fëanor had been furious with the Vala’s intrusion. He grew even more enraged when the Vala glanced up and caught you looking, his lips curling up at the corners. Their exchange grew heated. Fëanor sent Melkor away, but not before Melkor managed to steal a second glimpse of you. That was all you saw of him until after your capture, when you were presented to him like a prize, your arms and feet bound in iron, your clothes reduced to rags. He said nothing. All he did was sit on his lofty throne and look down on you, his eyes roaming over you in a way that made a flush creep up your throat.  

You never saw him after that. Melkor kept you confined to the tower you now lived in. No one was allowed to see you save for the thralls that had to tend to you and Thuringwethil. The other Maia were allowed nowhere near you. Even the orcs were allowed nowhere near you, until now. 

It is as if he does not trust the others with me.

A thrall held out their arm, to help you out of the tub. You stood still while they toweled you dry, your cheeks ablaze when they first helped you into the wisps Thuringwethil brought with her. The garments were so soft, you did not even notice them. Next came the dress, an airy confection of lace and silk that clung to your body. Then came a pair of soft slippers and finally a perfume, one that was dabbed on each of your wrists and behind your ears. The thralls wanted to style your hair, but you declined, insisting on wearing it loose.

"The master calls," insisted the orc that came to escort you to Melkor’s private chambers deep within Angband. "Come."

You followed him silently, walking through lofty corridors and vast halls, each as empty and dimly lit as the next. Your footsteps echoed all around you even as you sunk deep into your thoughts. Melkor had insisted you be brought to him alive. He had kept you in a tower, apart from the thralls and other prisoners. He had provided you with decent food and drink, even new garments. No one was allowed to harm a hair on your head. And the way he looked at you when you were presented to him, his eyes dark with hunger. The memory alone was enough to give you pause. 

You shook your head. No. It could not be. Melkor desired nothing but the complete dominion of Arda. He treasured nothing but power and causing pain. That was what the songs said. That was what your father and brother said. And yet…

And yet…

He kept me safe. Made certain my needs were seen to. Did nothing to cause me harm. Were they all wrong? 

The orc stopped by large wooden doors, each more than twice your height. "Let her in," he snapped at the guards. They obeyed and opened the doors for you. "Get in," he mumbled almost in politeness. 

You meekly stepped over the threshold and made your way into a chamber as large as the halls you had passed. There was a soft thud. That was the sound of the doors closing behind you. You were truly trapped now.�� 

The room you were in was nearly as silent as a tomb. And poorly lit. There were no lamps, or torches. Just a dim fire sputtering away in the hearth. 

"Come closer, little elf," a deep voice called from behind you.  

You gulped in fright but turned in the direction of that voice.

"Closer," it called. "Come closer."

One measured footstep followed another. You walked on hesitantly, not stopping until you reached a smaller chamber filled with the light of several candles. There was a large bed in one corner, and a small table at the far end. This room, too, was empty. You were confused now. Where did that voice come from?

"Does this please you?" 

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard the voice behind you. You turned on your heel and found yourself looking at your captor. Melkor was studying you with a quizzical gleam in his eye. "My lord," you murmured, and gracefully dipped to your knees, remembering your courtesies. 

He laughed merrily. "Thuringwethil was right. You do have nice manners." 

You looked at him, shocked. She spoke to him about me. Why would she do that? 

Melkor smirked and looked at you approvingly before walking over to the table. He pulled out a chair and gestured for you to join him. It confused you even more. The table was devoid of food and drink. 

"The food…" you breathed out and struggled for words. Melkor was as glorious as the day you first saw him. The image of him standing there and watching you was enough to muddle your mind. "There… there is no food, my lord."

"There will be food," he replied, "for later. For now, sit."

You obeyed and made your way to the table, your skin prickling the entire time. You glanced at Melkor and found his eyes following your every move. There was something dark and primal in his eyes, something you could not quite describe. 

"I will not mince words,” he said. “The reason why I summoned you," Melkor waited till you made yourself comfortable before moving to the chair opposite yours. "Is because I have a… proposition to make."

"Proposition?" You repeated, baffled. Melkor was one of the most high. There was no need for him to ask anything of anyone when he could simply take whatever, and whomever he desired, without so much as a "by your leave."

“Yes." Melkor studied you before saying, "A proposition. I wish to make you my companion. I made this offer to your brother. I was hoping he would put a word in where your father was concerned…"

The day he called on your twin. He had asked for you. You kept asking why and Fëanor refused to explain the cause. He grew angry whenever you asked. Your father finally forbade you from broaching the topic. 

"But the fool refused," Melkor snorted in derision. "Now that I have you here with me, I would like to ask this of you myself. Will you be my companion and bind yourself to me?"

You swallowed and wrung your hands. His companion, he said. You did not even know what it would mean. What little you knew of intimate relations between elves came from the books you read while the others were away. "Your companion, my lord. What would I have to do? Read to you? Play the harp?"

Melkor laughed again, softly this time. "Your family has kept you ignorant of many things, I see. I do not wish you to merely read to me and amuse me with music, little elf. To put it in simpler terms, I want you to share my bed."

Your cheeks were aflame. To share his bed. You had read enough books to know what that meant. "To share pleasures with you…" you sputtered, "but if I go back, if the other elves find out what I allowed you to do to me, I will be ruined."

"The other elves will not find out.”

“Why not?”

“Because your brother is not coming for you," Melkor said simply. 

"He is coming for me!" you insisted. Your eyes stung with hot tears threatening to break free. Melkor was the prince of lies. That was what they all said. You refused to believe him, thinking he was lying to you even now. "Fëanor is coming for me!"

"He is not, little elf," Melkor replied gently. "Fëanor is not coming for you. His hunger to create the silmarils has consumed him."

Despair of the acutest kind settled over you like a thick fog. The creation of hallowed jewels, each containing the light of the two trees, was all your twin talked about. He would think of nothing else until such priceless treasures rested in his hands. You knew him well enough for that.  

"And your father’s thoughts have been consumed with the new family he is creating with his second wife. No one is coming for you." Melkor reached over and placed his hand on top of yours. He gave it a gentle squeeze. "Say yes, little elf. Take my hand, and every comfort imaginable will be yours. I will be yours."

You sat there, feeling alone and wretched. Your brother was not coming for you. Your father was not coming for you. Days had bled into weeks and weeks into a wholly different season, and no one had come for you. There had not even been a whiff of an elf seeking you out. Your kin had abandoned you to your fate, and the knowledge of it was too much to bear. It made you want to cry, to scream and tear out your hair, but such acts were useless. They would not set you free, and they would not make your kin search for you. You turned your attention to Melkor. He offered a life you were once accustomed to. Perhaps he was not lying. Perhaps he was telling the truth. But still, to say yes to him and take him inside of you…

"The others… your servants…" you whispered, "What will they say?"

"Nothing." Melkor smiled and spread his broad hands. "Life in Angband is different. You can be with whomever you wish, whenever you wish, and however you wish. No one will say a word in protest."

"No one?" You glanced at him, trying to get a sense of him. "Not even you?"

Melkor ground his jaw and growled. His eyes narrowed to thin slats. "You are mine, little elf. All of you belong to me."

Goosebumps rose all over your flesh when he said it. The sheer possessiveness in his tone was enough to make you forget your sense of dread and excite you to the point of actually considering his offer. 

"Before I say yes," you licked your lips nervously and confessed, "I… I must tell you I have neither the… skill nor the… experience… in such matters. What little I know has come from books."

Melkor’s lips tugged at the corners. "I thought as much. But first, you must say yes."

To say yes. To take his hand and bind yourself to him for all time. You thought of your suitors, how all of them bowed their heads and walked away without a second glance the moment Fëanor denied them. Then there was Melkor, who willingly risked war and doom to bring you here. You knew what your answer would be.

"Yes."

"Come."

He rose and took you by hand, helping you out of your chair and leading you straight to his bed. You eyed the silk sheets and the soft pillows. To just lay in that bed was temptation enough. Melkor did not give you time to think of much else. He grabbed your arms and kissed you before you could say another word. 

The books spoke of kisses that were sweet and soft, like feathers. Melkor’s kiss was none of that. It was all heat and wildness and hunger. His tongue glided over the seams of your mouth before pressing against your lips. You sighed helplessly and parted them for him. His mouth tasted like some dark spice you could not get enough of. Melkor smirked in triumph, his breath heating your flesh.

"How easily you yield, little elf!" he cried when you tugged on his tunic to pull him closer. "And how fortunate I am to have you in my grasp!" He laughed again and placed his hands over your shoulders, pushing you down onto the edge of the bed. "Tell me," he cooed softly, "What else did you read in these books?"

You looked at him, your eyes widening when he undid the buckle of his belt. "I…" You glanced at him, then at what he was doing. He was loosening the drawstrings of his breeches. "I have read about certain acts, but…" Your cheeks heated when he tugged it down just enough to free his cock. "But…"

"It was not enough?" Melkor asked and caressed your cheek. "Then I will guide you. Open that pretty mouth for me, little elf."

He waited, neither forcing nor demanding that you obey. A thumb glided over your lips, making you look at him. "Open little elf," he insisted gently, "Go on."

The sight of him all exposed and hard proved too tempting. You opened your mouth, eager and willing and curious, struggling to breathe while he sank his length. Melkor moved slowly and gently, his hands delving into your hair and keeping you steady. He groaned and shivered when you ran your tongue along his shaft and let curious hands skim over his thighs. His hand glided over to cup your cheek. You opened your eyes and found his fixed on yours; his mouth parted in a silent moan. 

"I have been thinking about you from the first moment I laid eyes on you, little elf," he confided, whimpering when your tongue brushed over his tip. "Each of my thoughts about you have been improper."

Melkor was gentle with his instructions. "Loosen your jaw, little elf." He caressed your cheek again to catch your attention. "You clench it too much."

It was easier after that. You reached up and clutched the edges of his tunic, your mind going hazy with bliss. Everything you felt, from the hands brushing over your hair to the little ridges brushing against your lips to the soft grunts you heard, was dark and sinful. You had often wondered what such acts would be like while reading books forbidden to you, but no words could describe what you were feeling now, all feverish and wanton. 

Melkor drew back and pushed you onto the sheets. You gazed at him, surprised, and more than a little disappointed. "Move further up, little elf," he chuckled, running his thumb over your swollen lips. "I want to claim you as mine."

Again, you did as he asked, even more eager this time. You moved further up the bed, trembling whenever you felt the wetness between your thighs. Melkor undid the clasps of his tunic one by one. You expected to find vast parts of him withered and deformed, as the songs said. What was slowly revealed instead was the stuff of a maiden’s dreams: a fana that was all supple muscle and devoid of flaw. His skin was the color of new steel, and his arms were large and strong. 

Not once did he use that strength to force me, you mused, flushing when the mattress sank and he crawled into bed with you, boots on and all. Melkor pushed your thighs apart with his. His hands slid under your skirts. 

"I…" You found yourself trembling with growing need when the flat of his palm glided over your leg. "I thought we must be undressed, my lord."

"Next time," Melkor promised. He hiked your skirts up to your waist and shoved his hand down your undergarments, ripping them apart with one tug. "For now, let me do this."

His fingers grazed your slick heat. The friction was delicious enough to make you see stars. Melkor trembled. He actually trembled. His touch was gentle, almost worshipful in its exploration. He propped himself on his free arm, just so he could watch you while he slipped a finger inside of you. It made your breath hitch when that finger slid deeper and deeper. 

"My lord," you moaned without even realizing it. He dipped his head and ghosted his lips over yours.

"I am here, little elf," he purred softly, brushing his hand over your hair. He dipped his head again, nibbling your earlobe and sighing when your arms circled his back. 

He had been thinking of me since he first saw me, you remembered. When was that?

"M-my lord?" Your back began to arch with each thrust of his finger. He inserted a second as carefully as the first, groaning whenever your warmth clenched around them. "W-when did you first see me?"

"When I was allowed to return to Valinor," he confessed softly against your neck. "I saw you with your father and brother near the Ring of Doom. I stayed in the shadows and watched you. Even then, I knew I had to make you mine."

The Ring of Doom. When your father was called to hear the Valar’s verdict on his appeal to remarry. That was a full century before Melkor approached your brother for you. 

A hundred years was but the blink of an eye for an elf. Lesser still for a being such as him. But still...A hundred years. He had been seeking me out over a hundred years. Your hands brushed over his hair while he nibbled at your earlobe. The thought of him marking you with his teeth was enough to make your pulse scramble. You grew a little bolder. 

“M-my lord?" You mumbled shyly. "W-would you c-consider marking me?" 

“Bite you, little elf?"

"Y-yes. B-bite me."

Melkor raised his head, his dark eyes darkening even more. You heard a low and otherworldly growl. The sound inflamed you. "If you insist," he said, leaning in and running his tongue over the hollow of your throat. "Turn your head to the side, little elf."

He peppered the soft expanse of your throat with kisses that were bruising and almost violent. Every time his teeth grazed the curve of your neck, your nails would dig into his back. "Melkor," you sighed again. "There. Right there. Oh."

"Now everyone who sees you will know you are mine." He lifted his head and admired the canvas he had made out of your body. When he drew his fingers away, it made you feel strangely empty. "Rest your legs over my hips, little elf." Melkor hovered over you, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. "And do not tense. Can you manage this?"

He wanted to claim your maidenhead. You looked up at him, trying to decide what to do. If he did, if you said yes to this, you could never go back. The other acts you could hide in lies, but not this. Never this. No elf would stay married to you once the truth came to light. Your family would never welcome you back. Your father would not wish to ruin the prospects for any child born to his second wife, and your brother… you shivered. You did not want to even think of what Fëanor would do to you. 

Why am I fretting over what others will say, when those others have already turned their backs on me?

Melkor’s knuckles drifted over your throat. He may never ask for you again. He could send you away and carry on like nothing happened. It would would you deeply if he did. But the memories would feel so sweet. 

You made up your mind. You moved your legs over his hips, the insides of your thighs rubbing up against the supple leather of his breeches. It felt strange but wonderful. "I am ready," you whispered.

“I will be gentle," Melkor promised, trembling again. His kiss was soft and so very warm. He kissed you until you were breathless, kissed you until you moaned, and your hold around him tightened. He guided his shaft inch by slow inch into your slit, stopping whenever you whimpered to give you time to breathe. His hand glided over your thigh, your belly, his words a sweet melody in a tongue you had never heard of in your life. It put your entire body at ease. He would move again, now slowly, now gently, filling you in ways you never thought possible. He stopped again, this time after claiming your maidenhood. He looked at you with questioning eyes, as if asking for permission. 

"Yes," you assured him, sighing when he moaned and started to move. 

He was so big, and it felt uncomfortable. And he was gentle, just like he promised. Pain and discomfort slowly gave away to a pleasure that had no name. Every time he moved, every time he found a place that sent jolts of deep ecstasy licking up your spine, you clung to him, moaning his name shamelessly. Melkor’s lips crushed yours in an all-consuming kiss. At your own urging, he went a little deeper, a little harder, a little faster, growling when his hips slapped against the insides of your thighs. It was too much. And not enough. And intoxicating all at the same time. Melkor knelt up and dragged you with him. 

"Kiss me," he demanded, "and make it count."

His fingers dug into the back of your dress, his nails ripping into the fabric the moment your mouth opened over his. His tongue tasted like wine when it pressed against yours, and his hair felt like silk when it slipped around your fingers. A tension that was sweet and drugging grew in your belly. 

"So-something is ha-happening," you mewled, not knowing what it meant. "I... d-do not understand…"

You may not have known, but Melkor did. "Soon, little elf," he whispered, latching onto the curve of your neck. A mixture of kisses and nips of the teeth skimmed over your throat. "A little more. Just a little more."

That soon came faster than you could have thought. Your muscles coiled and tightened, and snapped, like your body was splintering into a million different pieces. You could not think. You could even breathe. You were lost in a sea of untold rapture. You barely felt it, Melkor’s hold on you tightening even as your nails raked over his skin. You barely heard it—a deep grunt of satisfaction when he thrust one last time, and a torrent of his spend filled you.

The world had gone still, so very still. Your thoughts were still muddled when Melkor laid you on your back. You were silent while clarity slowly crept in.  

Melkor had claimed all you willingly gave, and so much more. He made you experience joys you had never experienced before. And now you braced yourself, your heart gripped in agony, thinking he might prove the tales told about him true and send you away, never to seek you out after that. The books did not prepare you for the pain of his rejection. You prepared yourself anyway, your body still shaking when the featherbed sank again under his weight. Melkor threw an arm over your waist and drew you to him. Both arms encircled you now, even as he buried his face in your hair.

"I will have your possessions moved to my chambers. Rest for now, little elf." He mumbled and pressed a chaste kiss over your shoulder. "When you wake up, I will bathe you, and we will dine together. Perhaps you could even read to me."

tags: @lemonivall​ @cilil​ @edensrose​ @wandererindreams​ @asianbutnotjapanese​

[cilil]

Eönwë Week - Day 6: Noldor

AN: Another headcanon post for today. Thank you to @ruiniel, @a-world-of-whimsy-5 and @tar-thelien for additional suggestions!

Today's topic: Eönwë and the Noldor (some of them)

𓅛 Out of thousands of Maiar, many of them unknown to the Children of Ilúvatar, Eönwë is among the most widely known and recognized. While he may not have appeared in Middle-earth for a long time, he was present in the War of Wrath, stayed on Númenor for a while and his duties as the Elder King's herald resulted in Valinor's Elven inhabitants to get well acquainted with him.

𓅛 While Eönwë has most of his day to day dealings with the Vanyar due to their proximity to and friendship with Manwë and Varda and in later ages retains a certain fondness for the people of Númenor, he has always felt some sort of kinship with the Noldor in particular, even more so than other Elven people at times.

𓅛 Now, Eönwë is not a craftsman and his talents lie in the art of battle, as gentle at heart as he may be and despite any secret wishes he could be different that he might harbor deep down. Yet even when peace still reigned in Valinor, he sensed the same fierce bravery and resilience within the hearts of many Noldor that one would find in fellow warrior spirit among the Ainur and he respects and admires such traits, whether they be used for good or for ill.

Fingolfin & Finarfin

𓅛 It was for these reasons that Eönwë felt immediate kinship with the younger sons of Finwë whenever he met them during his visits at their father's palace. Fëanor he had often seen as well, but as he grew older he was pretty much always busy with his projects elsewhere and later with his own family.

𓅛 Especially close and cordial was Eönwë's relationship with Finarfin. While always friendly with almost everyone he meets, Eönwë had never presumed to be a friend of the Eldar, thinking that he might intrude on their affairs and overstep their boundaries if he approached them like he would a fellow Maia, but Finarfin was particularly determined to prove him wrong.

𓅛 Sometimes alone, sometimes together with Fingolfin, the youngest prince never missed a chance to approach him, having developed a special interest in birds and bird-like Maiar. Fingolfin's interest was, once the childish fascination with all things new and exciting had passed, of a more political nature, but he too found Eönwë's company enjoyable.

𓅛 When Melkor started sowing seeds of unrest among the Noldor, however, this also affected the princes' relationship with Eönwë. While they hadn't come to distrust him or think of him as a hostile agent of the Valar feigning friendship, there was something on the mind of Fingolfin in particular: The fact that Eönwë had been hailed as a hero of past battles among the Ainur and that he had to possess knowledge of weapons and war that he had never shared with the Eldar, not even his friends.

𓅛 Supported by Finarfin, Fingolfin eventually confronted him about it. Eönwë had already been fearing that they would and, after a bit of poking and prodding, told them about the battles he had fought and the reason why he never spoke of his deeds or taught much of his art: While his skill was renowned and respected, he found no pride in acts of violence and killing and feared that his teachings and involvement would only enable more conflict.

𓅛 Yet the two princes argued against this, saying that he knew well from his past how some conflicts were inevitable and they as well as their family and their people would be left defenseless if anything happened, especially since he himself had told them that the Ainur are forbidden from using force against the Children. Though unhappily so, Eönwë saw the wisdom in their words and agreed to teach them - but in return they had to promise to only ever raise their swords against the forces of evil and never against their kin.

𓅛 This Fingolfin and Finarfin did promise and so began their relationship as training partners. After feeling guilty initially - thinking he was going behind his lord's back, though technically Manwë had never forbidden such activities specifically - Eönwë soon came to enjoy these sessions because he was taking action and helping people he likes and wants to be safe. He was also proud of their progress.

𓅛 Everything was fine and Eönwë felt closer to two of his dearest companions than ever... until the rebellion of the Noldor. Being bound by the laws of the Ainur, he couldn't intervene on behalf of either side and had to watch his worst fears come true.

𓅛 To say Eönwë was relieved when Finarfin returned would be an understatement, though their joy was dampened by the fact that Fingolfin and all of his and Finarfin's children had left. Eönwë did his best to assist and support Finarfin during the tumultuous times that followed, but publicly and privately (Eärwen was not exactly happy either, but that is a story for another time).

𓅛 While saddened by some of the deeds of the Noldor, Fingolfin retained Eönwë's respect and fondness for his heroism in Beleriand, particularly his duel against Melkor. It was a magnificent showcase of how far he had come and Eönwë couldn't help feeling just a tiny bit of pride that one of his incarnate companions and training partners had held his own against a Vala for longer than anyone had expected.

𓅛 Going to war with Finarfin at the end of the First Age was bittersweet for Eönwë. It was comforting to fight together with one of his closest friends, but he also thought he was selfish for feeling this way and was worried that Finarfin would die or get hurt. Eönwë considers it a great blessing that they were able to make the journey home together as well.

Fingon

𓅛 With Fingon Eönwë didn't have too many dealings directly while he still dwelt in Valinor, something he later found regrettable.

𓅛 He occasionally spoke to him during social events or as part of his duties, sensing his valiant spirit and finding himself fond of Fingolfin's house in general. Fingon also joined his father for training sometimes, which Eönwë allowed, knowing that Fingolfin and Finarfin would pass on their knowledge to their children anyway (a logical conclusion that they had also never denied).

𓅛 Fingon's daring rescue of Maedhros was what garnered him great favor and renown within the household of Manwë in particular, from the Elder King himself to his Maiar, Eönwë being no exception. He admired not only the bravery of the act itself, but also the diplomatic benefits and how it aided in achieving more of a union among the Finwëan houses and the Noldor as a whole.

𓅛 Eönwë, alongside his lord and his fellow Maiar, mourned the last stand and death of Fingon.

𓅛 It may be that Fingon was on Eönwë's mind when he attempted to make peace with Mairon after the War of Wrath, only to quickly find that he wouldn't achieve what Fingon had.

Celegorm

𓅛 Taking the shape of raptors, Eönwë is also a hunter and sometimes joins Oromë's Maiar for their hunts. It's the only activity that allows him to chase and attack a target without having to worry about seriously injuring or killing someone by accident, as he has to when training others or engaging in mock duels.

𓅛 Eönwë had occasionally played with Fëanor's ferocious children when they were young and they enjoyed climbing all over him, pretending he was a big monster to slay and receiving shiny, fluffy feathers as a prize from him.

𓅛 Thus he and Celegorm were already acquainted and fairly friendly with one another once Celegorm started joining Oromë's hunts as well and it didn't take long until a sort of tacit understanding grew between them: They were both looking for an outlet for their darker and more dangerous impulses. And Eönwë, even if he worried about it sometimes, would never judge someone for sharing this trait of his.

𓅛 What he did end up judging Celegorm for was his treatment of Beren and Lúthien, since Eönwë has ever cautioned his Elven friends and companions to exercise restraint with any sort of violence and deems any sort of coercive behavior against a lady to be very wrong, especially after having witnessed Melkor harassing Varda and Arien (more or less successfully, but still).

Maedhros & Maglor

𓅛 Like Celegorm, Eönwë had known Maedhros and Maglor from an early age and his interactions with them were friendly, especially since they tended to be a little less unruly than their brothers (in this case meaning less likely to pluck the poor herald or walk all over him in the literal sense).

𓅛 While Maedhros got more involved in Noldorin politics as he grew older and Eönwë began to value him as a calming, rational presence, contrasted by the sometimes explosive temperament of his father, Maglor devoted most of his time to his craft. This led him to the halls of Ilmarin many times, performing songs and taking part in theatrical performances that impressed even the less literary inclined Maiar.

𓅛 Eönwë missed the various members of Finwë's house that left for Middle-earth, having come to appreciate their different personalities.

𓅛 In the aftermath of the rebellion and shortly before the War of Wrath, Eönwë had a few interactions with Nerdanel who asked him to look for her remaining sons and made him promise to at least try to bring them home to her. Eönwë agreed to this, saying he couldn't promise to be successful, but that he would try his best for her sake.

𓅛 At the end of the War of Wrath, Maedhros' and Maglor's demand to have the Silmarils returned to them came as no surprise. Even so, Eönwë genuinely and fervently hoped they would heed his words - as they had done in the past and might have done in another situation - and not go for the jewels, as he knew exactly what the outcome would be and wanted to prevent any more death and sorrow caused by the Silmarils; this is also why he didn't pursue Maedhros and Maglor when they stole them from him, the other main reason being his promise to Nerdanel.

𓅛 It was at this point, however, that Eönwë resigned himself to the fact that there was nothing he could do to help them anymore and that they had made their choice, leaving them to their fates.

𓅛 Eönwë found himself left with the devastating task of informing Nerdanel about the various fates of her sons and that he had, in fact, not managed to bring any of them home to her. However, I like to think he revealed to her that Maglor was still alive (if she didn't already know herself) and promised her that he will one day return to Middle-earth to look for him again.

𓅛 I'm planning to touch on this in an upcoming Eönwë-centric fic, but the plan so far is that Maglor declines at first and eventually, after the Third Age concludes, expresses a desire to return to Valinor, come what may, though he feels like he has no place on any of the ships. Eönwë then takes him home, taking the shape of an eagle and letting him ride on his back.

taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @blauerregen @bluezenzennie @edensrose

@elanna-elrondiel @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human @singleteapot

@stormchaser819 @urwendii @wandererindreams @eonweweek

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

Been thinking more about the Rohirrim’s devotion to Oromë (in light of @cilil's HC about Oromë’s affection for them) and, you know, it really is perfect that he’s the Vala most associated with Rohan, and not just because they’re both great lovers of horses. Even more significant, to me, is the fact that Oromë is a stern guy. He’s “dreadful in anger” and known for the fearsomeness of his wrath. He’s contrasted specifically with Tulkas, the lighthearted himbo of Valinor who likes to laugh his way through life. Oromë isn’t laughing. He takes his duties seriously, and he goes about his task of hunting down Melkor and his evil creatures with such grim determination that even the elves are a little afraid of him–and he’s on their side!

Sternness. Grim determination. Going into battle invoking wrath. Who else does this sound like, y’all??? OF COURSE this is who the Rohirrim are going to vibe with. What, they’re gonna be off communing with nature and Yavanna? Delighting in their own creations with Aulë? Tripping on acid with Irmo? No, they’re into the guy who is there to get his business done, no matter how unpleasant. The guy who repeatedly comes back to Beleriand, long after most of the other Valar have stopped doing so, because when the elves need aid, Oromë will answer. The guy whose arrival to help save the day is always heralded by the sounding of a great horn. The guy whose wife leaves flowers in her wake, just as the bodies of the Rohirrim themselves will do. 

The horse thing is just frosting on that soulmate cake.

[saintstars]

A seduction of Mairon fanfic set in the Years of the Lamps and Almaren's golden age...Mairon and Melkor keep meeting and clashing during the Feast of Horns Festival

Rating: Explicit

sexual content, violence, blood, dubious consent, mutual maiming, enemies to enemies who fuck to married

Words: 30,282

Chapters: 17/17

Relationships: Melkor/Mairon, Eonwe/Mairon, Gothmog/Melkor, Gothmog/Eonwe, Osse/ Mairon, Osse/Uinen

read it now on ao3 sample under the cut

The third time he runs the hunt, Mairon grows great curving horns for himself and plays as hunter, waiting for the second sounding of Valaróma to launch after his prey. 

In time the Ainur will come to make plans with their desired partners but it is still early days and disordered revelry. Even so, Mairon has designs on Eönwë, noting the proud maia has draped his wings in golden chains. With the rules against flight he will likely be an easier target and it would be a delight to defeat the herald of Manwë himself and claim his favour. 

Mairon has learned from his past experiences too; those who seek to chase Yavanna’s host will quickly find themselves on the back foot in her own forests. His first Feast of Horns is most memorable for that lesson. 

Oromë sounds his horn again and Mairon takes off with the other hunters, noting the many fire maiar that have chosen this side of the chase. All the better to disorient their quarry. They fly like sparks, blazing into the greenery. 

Mairon burns bright with power to close the gap with the hunted, seeking out pale feathers in the light- rippled undergrowth. 

His fellow hunters slip ever further from view, each of them finding their own path. Tilion glimmers under every patch of light, his horns adorned with great swirls of silver. With all his adornments he is as likely to be confused for the hunted as the hunter. Mairon smiles to think of the kind of trouble he will soon find himself in. 

He is among the hunted now and cries ring out as hiding places are discovered and the chase becomes more intimate, more personal. He cannot see Eönwë anywhere around.

Mairon races on through the forest, scanning for his particular prey. He comes suddenly from shade into the light. 

A clearing, bright sky under the Lamps. Mairon turns his face into the unfiltered light, basking for a moment. Eönwë too would likely gravitate to the open spaces like this, rather than skulk in the cover of the trees. 

Mairon pauses, knowing more than simple speed is needed now. 

Movement flickers at the corner of his vision, and he gets the sense he is being watched. 

[cats-spilled-wine-foolery]

A Long Road Ahead

Chapter 3! Here's a snippet, as per usual.

When no words of response rang in the silence that followed, Sauron risked a glance at Eönwë's face, hoping against hope to see a flicker of relief or joy.  

All he saw was distrust and suspicion.  

"Is this one of your tricks, Deceiver? If so, I have to admit you've gotten better."  

"It is not. I truly seek redemption."  

"So you've said, because you think it'll be easy."  

"I do not. And my decision will not waver, regardless of what you say."  

"Then I will gladly accept your surrender and spare you all humiliation, if you willingly follow me to Valinor and plead your case before the Valar. As you doubtless recall, I'm but a Maia, of the same order as you; it is not my place to grant you pardon."  

He knew it was coming, of course he did. Yet he had hoped... that maybe a simple but heartfelt apology and repentance would be enough?  

Now, it sounded foolish and naive. What was he thinking?  

"The Valar..." Sauron whispered, as if the mention of them alone could condemn him to the Void. Then his head snapped upwards, his blazing eyes meeting Eönwë's. And he felt a familiar surge of realisation, mixed with trepidation. "Do you wish to see me break?"  

"That is you accepting your twisted interpretation of my words as the correct meaning. What did you expect, exactly? A full pardon and an easy way back to your old life as one of the Maiar?"  

"One thing I did not expect was you actively trying to condemn me to the worst possible outcome," he mumbled absentmindedly, his head spinning. Perhaps he was misinterpreting Eönwë's words and missing the intended meaning entirely, but…  

The Valar were all so powerful. And although many of the memories he had of them now eluded him, he remembered enough to feel dread. A paralysing fear that made cold sweat run down his back, causing him to shiver.

Manwë on his throne, not so dissimilar to Melkor, gusts of wind not so dissimilar to swirling shadows, regal upon his throne, mighty and powerful. Perhaps not look-wise, but the mannerism, the way he spoke, the body language, the way he built his sentences... the Elder King would surely be neutral, at best, or – more likely – cold and detached, like Eönwë now. Which would undoubtedly remind Sauron of all the times he'd disappointed Melkor, which would cause him to not be able to keep a composed facade and break.

Aüle he betrayed, and for a Maia to abandon their Vala the way he did... he didn't particularly desire to meet his old master after what he'd done.

The other Valar would simply add to his, putting it mildly, unease.

So in the state he was now, what Eönwë was saying sounded like the Herald was trying to deal him justice, or rather – in his mind – injustice.

Meanwhile, the better-built of the two was getting fed up with Sauron's paranoia and sighed with exasperation, gazing upwards as if asking Eru for patience and mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like 'all I asked for was a calm and reasonable conversation, and even that was too much'.

An explosion was bound to happen, rather sooner than later.

And happen it did.

"How much more unreasonable can you get?! I am actively trying to get you to go back and face the consequences of your actions like the admirable Maia you once were!”

Sauron's eyes snapped into focus and flared with fire, lava meeting ice.

[and-the-times-we-had]

if you were one of the noldor in the years of the trees, who would you have chosen to follow?

Hi Anon!

I actually have a sort of complicated answer to this question (possibly more complicated than you were looking for lol).

I think it would depend on when it is during the years of the trees (and how much information about the situation with Finwe and his family that the general public knew about)!

If we are talking pre-sword incident, I think I would have been more sympathetic to Feanor. Immediately post-sword incident, I'd probably be more sympathetic to Fingolfin. Depending on how much the general public knows about Melkor's involvement in the strife between Feanor and Fingolfin, I'd probably be sympathetic to both of them in some way and annoyed with the Valar for saying that Melkor was ok to be around. Definitely I would be sympathetic to Feanor in the aftermath of Finwe's murder just because his reaction is so severe and if I'm imagining myself as an elf of Valinor who has never heard or seen a speech like Feanor's before and who has never been through an event like the Darkening before, I could easily see myself being convinced to follow him since he does seem to at least have a plan on what to do next.

I do think that I would definitely start to have doubts about the journey forward when manwe's herald turns up and tells feanor that he can't beat melkor and that he's being exiled for the Oath and I think I'd have some concerns about the possibility of crossing the Helcaraxe when it's first brought up as an option. I'd probably hang back with Fingolfin's followers on the way to Alqualonde and I think ultimately I'd end up going back to Tirion with Finarfin's followers after the Doom is pronounced.

So, I guess in the end I would follow Finarfin if I'm truly imagining it from the perspective of just a typical Noldor elf who doesn't entirely know what is going on but who has had a lot of dramatic stuff happen very suddenly with regard to their leadership and community.

[polutrope]

@ettelene requested Feanor + boycotting a holiday for the modern AU holiday prompts! Here you are, ~775 words of condo developer Feanor, his family, and his many rivals. No warnings besides a little cursing (one f-bomb), as usual.

Amid zoning feud with City Hall, Ambar Metta withdraws funding for Yule Parade

Future of beloved celebration threatened by powerful Beleria development group. Has Finvesen’s grudge gone too far?

Fëanor slammed his laptop shut. “Ridiculous accusations,” he muttered into his coffee before taking a sip and grimacing. Too hot.

His phone pinged.

Nelyafinwë 🧡 Did you read it? 8:05am

Fëanáro Slander. Let them lob their accusations at us, you know it’s nothing to do with grudges. If that Singh-Goel had given us the permit for Himring Towers we would not be in this situation. 8:05am

We don’t have the budget! 8:06am

Elu has no one to blame but himself!! 8:07am

Three dots ticked along the bottom of his messaging app. Fëanor slammed the table and slurped his coffee. His eldest could be so infuriating sometimes! What was taking him so long to reply?

Nelyafinwë 🧡 Right. I know. But if Sindar Herald is painting it that way don’t you think we should consider the possible consequences for the business? 8:09am

Thumbs flying in outrage, Fëanor typed a reply. Then deleted it. Then retyped it.

Fëanáro Did your boyfriend put you up to this? 8:11am

Nelyafinwë 🧡 Omg no dad! Fingon hasn’t even seen the article. Curufinwë sent it to me. 8:11am

Fëanáro Curvo sent you this? Why didn’t he tell me himself? 8:11am

Nelyafinwë 🧡 I don’t know. Can I call you? 8:12am

Fëanor closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Fëanáro Not right now. 8:12am

Have a good day Nelyo 🙂 8:13am

Fëanor swiped his phone app open and clicked the first name in his call history.

“Hello? Dad?” answered Curufin. His voice was hoarse.

“Curufinwë, why didn’t you tell me about that article?”

“What article?”

Fëanor huffed. “The libel about the Yule Parade sponsorship!”

“Oh, yeah — fucking bullshit.”

“Do you know what your brother said to me? That we should ‘consider the business consequences.’”

“Ugh, really? Sorry dad, I was going to call you, I swear. But I didn’t want to just dump it on you — ugh, Nelyo! — but Tyelpë has a cold and he’s staying home from school, I didn’t have a chance to—”

“What! Tyelperinquar isn’t well?” Fëanor’s indignation over the article was immediately swept aside by a surge of panic for his favourite (only) grandchild. “Why didn’t you ask us to take him! Bring him over at once. I have told you a thousand times, your mother and I can take him anytime you need—”

“No, we can’t.” Nerdanel strolled into the dining room, dressed smartly in a long pencil skirt and blazer with her hair pulled back in a tight bun.

Distracted once more, Fëanor lowered the phone from his mouth and gawked at his wife. “What’s the occasion, Raspberry? You look fabulous!”

“I have that meeting about the wire sculptures at the Aelin-Uial Park light display.” She sighed and slipped into a pair of glossy red flats. “They’re saying we can’t afford the blue and green LEDs — well, they were the ones who wanted the tunnel to have an oceanic vibe.”

“I guarantee Singh-Goel’s behind that!” Fëanor shouted, forgetting he had his son on the phone.

Nerdanel rolled her eyes. Scooping up the paper from the foyer table, she dropped it in front of Fëanor. “Here. I think you should read this. Goodbye, dear.”

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and was out the door.

Fëanor looked at the front page headline.

The holiday spirit is saved! Hithlum Properties picks up the tab for Yule Parade

By Melkor Cifarelli

Underneath this was the grinning face of Fëanor’s greatest rival (damn his brilliant blue eyes and perfect jawline!), he who had won the bid for the redevelopment at Mithrim Lake: Fingolfin Noldoran Finvesen. The biological son of his late beloved father and that gold-digging witch from Valma.

“That bastard!”

“… Dad?” Curufin said on the other end of the line.

“Sorry Curvo dear, I have to go. Oh, Fingolfin, you—! You’ll regret this.”

“Wait, what did he—”

Fëanor ended the call before his son had a chance to finish and furiously scrolled through his contacts for the personal number of Mayor Elu Singh-Goel.

“Yes, hello, Elu! Happy Diwali! Oh - right, of course. What? Of course I knew it happened already. Anyway, I have reconsidered the sponsorship of the Parade. In fact, I’d like to increase Ambar Metta’s funding this year.”

[sesamenom]

quick sketch of Mairon as the Herald of Melkor