#orc bank unforsaken

[ceescedasticity]

Unforsaken, 13a

(All sections on tumblr)

(AO3, lagging behind but more polished)

(Note: I'm not sure whether there'll be another chapter split before the actual fight. If not, then a Warden interlude will go before this chapter. But I'm not sure yet.)

*****

The sustainable pace of oxen and the eyesight of elves being what they respectively are, they can see the surface exterior of the Crucible for two days before actually getting there.

—"They" being the elves in the group. Peredhel eyesight isn't so sharp; dwarven eyesight isn't calibrated for long distances; orc eyesight is at least better than peredhel except trying to look at Sunlit things doesn't work so well and there's not enough light at night.

—Though if Alphsîr and Alphlîn want a better look they can just turn into swans.

In all their palantír-viewing they never tried to take a look at the Crucible from ground level, only bird's-eye. It's… interesting.

It might look like buildings?

Risyind has seen a drawing of vaguely similar buildings — big featureless stone things. According to the Stonefoot dwarf architect who shared it, it's how Ironfist dwarves build when the ground is no good for delving. Gimli is dubious.

Maglor says it looks like Númenórean colony buildings from that one period where they'd just figured out concrete-based construction and hadn't yet decided it was ugly and probably beneath them. Celeborn is the only other person to have seen any of these buildings (most of those not destroyed by the locals succumbed to time); he is forced to agree with Maglor.

Glorfindel says that while the vibes and color are different it looks a little bit like the products of what he was told was a brief Vanyarin architectural fad. He didn't ask.

As they get even closer, the orcs besides Sharlinnu agree that they can also now feel the Crucible ahead of them.

The elves don't start feeling it for a little while after that. It's actually very impressive suppression of bad vibes. Not really a surprise, though — if it could be felt from far away someone would have found it before.

They set up camp near a spring several hours away at oxcart speed. It's significantly less than that for a running elf, and they're going to want the clean water.

****

It seems likely the wall (crust?) of the Crucible is not of uniform thickness, and logically they want to attack a thin point if possible. Investigating this requires getting a lot more up close and personal with the creepy Crucible rock than anyone is happy with — bare hands, ear-to-the-ground close.

The bad vibes are intense.

It's a long, tense afternoon and evening of climbing up and down rock walls, pressing ears to the creepy, creepy ground, and trying not to be too disturbed by withered plants, unscavenged animal skeletons, and other signs that the natural world is not welcome here.

Dyn gets so anxious she has to go back to the carts.

Celeborn starts to develop a rash where he's been touching the rocks. No one else is getting it. His only guess is that everyone who's more sensitive than him (Glorfindel, Maglor, both pairs of twins) also has stronger innate defenses, and everyone more vulnerable than him (everyone else) is more desensitized.

Legolas watches the sky so intensely he almost walks off a small cliff.

After about an hour in close proximity, Sharlinnu starts having trouble hearing anyone speak over the noise. She has to go out beyond the outermost circumference before it starts coming back.

Turgon doesn't realize he's started compulsively scratching his arms until he's drawn blood. He discreetly bandages them, but then scratches the bandages off.

Maglor is singing bits and pieces of things half-under his breath, in a distressed way. (Exactly what the differences between the distressed way and the pensive way or the nervous way or the creative way are no one can quite spell out, but no one argues with the description.)

Asfaloth, apparently, disapproves of Glorfindel venturing into this without him, and follows along as well as he's able at ground level. He starts neighing insistently if Glorfindel is out of his sight for too long. This is itself not a relaxing noise.

Khitwê asks Elladan how bad an idea it would be to take some of the chalk they brought and graffiti the exterior of the Crucible of the Souls with insults towards the Dark Lord(s). Elladan isn't sure.

They eventually decide their best bet is probably the circular plateau in the center of the shape. This is not ideal in terms of how far they're going to have to hand-carry the clay-crates, but they can do it.

Gimli cautions that he's not sure they're going to break through the crust in one round of detonations, even with Wizard's Clay rather than blasting powder. He's not sure they won't, either, but it's not a thin crust. It partly depends on how deep they can bore.

Dyn asks if there's any risk of boring too deep and breaking into the actual Crucible. Gimli thinks it's very unlikely.

The next two days are full of boring holes, carrying crates, and laying fuses. It is labor-intensive and very boring except for how they are crawling all over the bad vibe rock to do it, and are also now covered in bad-vibe-rock shards and gravel. Gimli, the orcs, and the Hirnedhrim are the only ones who don't need to sluice off at least twice a day. (No one else is getting a rash, but it feels bad enough they might as well be.)

[ladysternchen]

End of Year Fic Recs

Thanks @polutrope for tagging me 😁!

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

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

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

Recommend up to 5 of your own fics (completed or WIP) from 2023 that everyone should read. (oooohhhh damn. I'm gonna SO fail at this, because I actually read so little myself- I tend to re-read the same stories over and over and over again, but I'll see what I can do)

Multi-Chapter

'Tis the Season (To Be Tea-la-la-lally) by polutropos (Teen And Up, WIP, AU) I'm not one for modern AUs normally, not at all, and I honestly didn't want to read it at the start, but then I did (here on Tumblr) and got sucked in LOL. It's just great, and I love the Holiday Spirit! (I won't tag you here again, as you're tagged in the entire post anyway 😄 brilliant story)

Rising as if Weightless by StarSpray (Gen) The story of Elwing suddenly becoming the big sister/foster mom of her older brothers. This is so tender and beautiful and has so much character growth and so many bitter-sweet reunions, and above all so much depth.

A Pair of Stars by Magicfeather205 (Teen And Up) Pre-historic Elves, and the birth of future kings. That was honestly the most interesting story I read this year, with wonderful and very accurate world-building and a beautiful story (and thank you, author, I now can't get the 'Elwë and Olwë were indeed the first set of twin-boys in that family' out of my head where it fights a raging battle with my own headcanon) Also, I want this fic to be read by every single midwife (and, more importantly, other obstetrician). THAT is how you treat a birthing mom. That's how you handle unforeseen events. I loved this so so so much. It would have felt perfectly natural to have Trixie and Nurse Crane walk in there- sorry about that fandom-mixup)

As Flowers From the Sky by Beleriand Death Trip (E) Fingolfin/Elu Thingol... this is honestly a ship I would never ever have thought of myself, or seen a way in which this could work, but this story DOES work within canon, and beautifully so. It has it all, from very interesting world-building ideas to mild- (and VERY funny) horror-elements, and from foreshadowing and tensions to being wonderfully wholesome. You'll feel better after reading this, I promise!

The Unforsaken by @ceescedasticity (M, WIP) Last but definitely not least. I'll again link the first part of the series in the before-2023-part, and probably say more about it there. But yeah, absolutely a must-read! Go! Go, destroy the Orc-bank! (But don't blow yourselves up!)

One-Shots

Bloodied by ohboromir (Gen) Just a little First-Battle-story. I love to see Elu and Beleg and Mablung together so so so much (who would have thought, ey?).

Unstoppable Winds by LadyBrooke (Teen And Up) The destruction of Númenor as viewed by a few of their ancestors. I really loved this because I have never actually seen a story about the Fall of Númenor written from that POV and it did (or rather does) inspire me quite a lot in my own WIP. (I have to apologise here for not having more, I read so many great one-shots here on Tumblr that I just failed to save in some way. I may add to this list if I find the time to scroll through my timeline and see which of those I reblogged)

Before 2023

elves, once (M) by @ceescedasticity The part one of the series The Unforsaken belongs to as well. And for me the most recommendable story there is (though I would guess most who see this post will know the story already). The name says it all, really, as it is the story of all those canon-characters who ended up as Orcs. This is the sort of fic I really enjoy because it actually gives an answer to a question canon rises. The Orc-bank has since so much passed into my own headcanon that I sometimes forget that it is not actually canon (which leads to very awkward situations sometimes at our monthly discussing-Tolkien-gatherings, I tell you that)

across so wide a sea (Gen, WIP) by Adwen Unfinished, but one of the most hilarious stories I've ever read. I hope so much that author continues writing it one day, but even if they don't, it's a great laugh to read what is written, and ah, the possibilities!

The Carriage held but just Ourselves (Teen and Up) by StarSpray The story of how Melian and her descendants deal with death when they finally come to face it. I don't know when I last cried so much when reading a fic. It's not just that it's so so so sad (because yeah, go kill us all even in the one chapter that should be somewhat 'happy' 😭), but also incredibly beautiful and written perfectly in-character. It's looking into those women's minds. One of my bed-time-stories. (hmpf. All the others are multi-chapters form this year. ah well...)

My own

Yet Were Its Making Good, For This (not rated, but mature:ish; WIP) Ah, my problematic WIP. I wanted that story so so so so so badly written that I forced it, and it cost me MANY nerves. Mablung of Doriath/Elu Thingol. (How is it that nobody ever wrote that ship before?????????????) Works within canon if one squints one's eyes a bit. I'm currently working on the Epilogue ind Valinor, which might, MIGHT, for once give one of my stories a truly happy ending.

Into Oblivion (M) The smut-part of Yet Were Its Making Good, For This. Elwë/Mablung/Beleg. (Well, what do you all think they got up to during the journey?) Doesn't interfere with later canon.

Why, It Asks (Gen) It's a very short read, but one that is super dear to me for some reason. Elmo's thoughts as he stands by and watches his brother's grave being dug.

Moving On-series (Gen) Is this cheating, now? As it's really three one-shots? If it is, pick the last one to read. I'm just so fond of what my imagination spat out there world-building-wise LOL. It's the story of the time Elwë was missing to his and Melian's coronation, as mostly told from Elmo's POV.

Eyes In The Dark (Gen) I just had to put it here, as it's quite sweet to read, but given the hardly-mentioned-in-canon-characters it's hardly read by anyone. Give it a try, though. I bet you like it. Little Denethor is frightened by eyes in the dark, and runs for Lenwë for help. And Lenwë is being just about the best Dad ever.

And now we come to the bit I always dread. I suck at tagging people, because I always forget who enjoys such things and who doesn't, and because everyone's probably been already tagged. So let's do this differently, then- all writers who read this and want to share their recs, please do! (Cheating again, I know)

[ceescedasticity]

Unforsaken, 13b

(All sections on tumblr)

(AO3, lagging behind but more polished)

Shorter update this time, but you will see I did finally make one of the decisions I needed to make. (I think we probably are going to get to the battle in this chapter… must find & clean up the Warden's interlude.)

(Oh, also — if anyone actually knows something about dynamite and anything I'm writing sounds ridiculous, now's the time to mention it?)

Zuste proposes joining all the fuses together into one master fuse going halfway back to base camp, but Dyn says that basically guarantees the fuse going out before it sets anything off. Besides, if they may need a second round of blasting they should be conserving fuse.

They end up gathering the fuses into five bundles to be lit, and they aren't short by any means but after you light them you do want to withdraw quickly.

The fuse-lighters are Elladan, Elrohir, Khitwê, Risyind, and Legolas. After lighting the fuses they run back to rendezvous with everyone else, still within the radius of the Crucible's… arms? though away from the center plateau. They don't end up using the hand signals; ósanwë is enough.

Even with ears plugged, the sound is something else.

There is a rain of dust, gravel, and little fragments.

Estimated sticks of Wizard's Clay left behind to threaten the peace of Middle-earth (counting the 25 left in Emyn Arnen): 2500-ish (plus 25)

Before the explosion has finished echoing or all the debris has fallen, Sharlinnu staggers, hands going to her ears.

"The sound changed," she says as soon as someone else has their ears unplugged. "Not the blast, the noise sound. It changed. "

Legolas quickly scrambles up the nearest outcropping to get a view of the site. "We uncovered more of the same rock," he calls down. "I don't see an opening or… anything."

"No, yes, it's not open," Sharlinnu says. "It's not here. Not out. But it noticed. It reacted."

"We hear it, too," Alphsîr says.

"Only just," Alphlîn adds. "It's not talking to us."

No one likes the idea that the now-not-so-hypothetical Warden might have friends, but—

"It's talking to us," Turgon says. "To any orc, I think. Not words, I'm not hearing anything, but — it's a summons, I think."

Whiterot nods. "Not strong enough to be a compulsion but expectations are clear."

A general orc-summons isn't a very nice prospect either, but fortunately it should take any other orcs a week or more to arrive even at a forced march, and that's if they don't resist. It's still unsettling.

They tie damp cloth across their faces before venturing into the blast crater they've created.

Boring and carrying and laying fuses is more tense this round, and it wasn't relaxed before.

They're not even half done when one of the Geese descends, and lands on the edge of the crater. Alphsîr and Alphlîn approach immediately. (They are bad at drilling and not at all good at carrying heavy things like clay-crates or water buckets. Probably they should be back supervising the oxen until the next blast gets set off, but they are way too anxious to stay that far from the action.)

After a very brief conversation, Alphsîr flies over to Glorfindel's team and sheds his feathers. "She has a message from Caraxitári," he says, eyes wide. "The Shadow's call has drawn wyrms out of the mountains, and the winged ones will be here in perhaps two days."

[ceescedasticity]

damn you, physical existence

why must things have appearances.

Okay. So. Take this shape. Refine it so it's actually perfectly symmetrical. —Maybe give it more arms, idk, so not exactly this shape.

The whole thing is a couple miles in diameter. It's not uniform in height. I'm not sure what the average height is, but there's not a huge variation within the snowflake footprint. The edges are steep, though probably not right-angle.

It was originally pure black or pure white smooth stone, but cosmetically it's taken some weathering. There are superficial cracks, pitting, dirt, a few really stubborn plants.

Okay — approaching it from the side it'll look like a giant and really weird complex of windowless, featureless buildings.

[ceescedasticity]

So once all the orc-souls are freed, are the elven lands going to suddenly have several thousand re-embodied elves returning to them?

The Halls of Mandos will suddenly have thousands of former orc-souls; reembodiment will be spread out and not immediate because people heal differently and all of them have a lot of healing to do.

[ceescedasticity]

Unforsaken, 12e

(All sections on tumblr)

(AO3, lagging behind but more polished)

Major takeaways from this round of practice:

Yes, it's even more impressive in stone.

And even louder when not in a hole in the ground.

The ear protection they've come up with is probably good enough, at least for everyone besides the swan-twins.

Legolas somehow ends up trying to explain the history of explosives to the swan-twins. He has no idea what he's talking about.

A stick of Wizard's Clay will not explode if you drop it from thirty feet up. They aren't supposed to, but it was still nerve-wracking.

Nobody likes being under a rain of little rock fragments but there isn't really anything to be done about that.

They might want to leave the oxen farther away next time.

Estimated sticks of Wizard's Clay left behind to threaten the peace of Middle-earth (counting the 25 left in Emyn Arnen): 5495

Following Alphlîn and Alphsîr's continuing success in practice, Glorfindel is ready to sketch out a very rough battle strategy (which hopefully won't be needed since they still aren't 100% certain there's a Warden).

Alphlîn and Alphsîr will be attacking from the air, with power. (If they get grounded, they should change shape and run out of the way rather than try to take off where they are.)

Glorfindel, with Asfaloth, will be fighting with sword and power.

Maglor and Celeborn will also be ahorse. Maglor will be Singing and using the battle-harp. Celeborn has a bow of Lórien and a sword from Eregion.

Turgon and Celegorm will be on foot. (It would be possible to convince horses to bear them, probably, but the horses would be nervous and distracted and they aren't used to it anymore.) (Celegorm kind of wishes he had a warg for this.) Their weapons are dwarf-forged steel, and their own wills.

Whiterot has a crossbow and doesn't plan to get close. Sharlinnu isn't sure how well she'll be able to fight with the noise-generating Warden right there. She wants to, but she also doesn't want to get in the way — more discussion needed there.

That leaves the children Third-Age-born contingent, and here there is some disagreement.

Zuste, Zena, and Dyn readily agree that they are not up for demigod-fighting, either in capability or interest.

Khitwê and Risyind make it clear they are ready and willing to fight! Khitwê in particular would be happy to avenge his family's suffering on the Warden. (Risyind doesn't think it would make her feel any better than the Warden going down without her direct involvement.) But this isn't the kind of fight they're trained for, and even in areas they are trained for they are perfectly adequate, not outstanding. If Glorfindel says it's better for them to hang back they won't argue.

Legolas and Gimli — you don't want to make Legolas and Gimli think you're slighting their abilities, but they're not going to insist on pushing into a fight above their pay grade. They won't argue that this (hypothetical) fight isn't above their pay grade.

…So really the only disagreement is about Elladan and Elrohir.

This fight is above their pay grade, yes, but it's above all of their pay grades. It might have been within Glorfindel's right after he was sent back to Middle-earth, or Maglor's at the height of his power and skill before being ground down by time and grief for over six thousand years, and Turgon or Celegorm's before being ground down by being orcs for over six thousand years. It's not now.

Celeborn has over two Ages of experience more than his grandsons, and they have over two Ages of exhaustion less than him.

The best Glorfindel can extract from them is an agreement to hang back and stick to bows as much as possible.

******

Maglor finally gets up the nerve to approach Celegorm the day before they are expecting to arrive at the site of the Crucible.

"I know what I need to tell you," Celegorm says, before Maglor can ask. "It's just… Just don't interrupt, all right?"

What being an orc is, according to Celegorm:

Being bound by fetters on your soul.

Everything in you is warped to some purpose outside you.

Certainty that you are damned and there is nothing you can do about it.

Certainty that you can do as you're meant to willingly or you will be forced, and it will hurt.

Telling yourself it doesn't matter. Just do what you want — anything that brings a moment of relief —because nothing matters.

Hating yourself for everything you've done and every mistake you made to get into this situation.

Hating your fellow condemned for everything they do that's the same as you and everything they do differently.

Hating everyone not condemned for not being condemned.

Hating and hating and hating because it's warmer than despair alone.

It's all the worst days of living bound by the Oath of Fëanor, back to back, forever.

"I've said before it wasn't as different as it should have been," Celegorm concludes at last. "And that's true. But what I don't like to say is sometimes it wasn't different at all. Well, except elven hröar aren't as miserable, so being an orc is more physically painful unless something's gone really wrong, but— I know this has been easier on me because I've lived this already. At least this time I didn't do it to myself."

Maglor has to take some time to think about this.

It's coming together for him, though. He knows — he thinks he knows what he needs to say, now.

******

On a lighter note, Maglor has an idea about trying to get a better idea of Sharlinnu's noise — what if the orcs do some singing?

—This takes a while to explain as people are varying levels of informed about orcs' tone-deafness and well-established tradition of singing anyway. (Also the Hirnedhrim and the swan-twins have never heard of tone-deafness before.)

The orcs, meanwhile, are trying to pick a song.

Whiterot: "And then there were none", maybe?

[A ‘and then there were none’ backwards-counting song of elf-princes, some verses inspired by real events]

Celegorm: And then there was one!

Turgon: Two. And no, I don't think so.

Celegorm: I wish I was back in Goblin-town?

Turgon: If we must—

Sharlinnu: What about the Prince of Cats song?

[A prince of cats got his ass kicked by a girl and a dog, definitely not inspired by real events, honest, but also definitely not to be sung in Mordor]

Turgon: Definitely that one.

(Other noteworthy subjects of orc songs:

Fear Us We are doing a task [which isn’t very interesting and this at least livens it up] We are going to kill you and destroy everything you love and have fun doing it We’ve been marching a long time and it’s annoying The Sun is a bitch I Fear Nothing Except The Sea Which Is Fucking Terrifying My warg is the best warg, she’s eaten lots of babies Behold my gruesome trophies My body is the most fucked up and uncomfortable but I make it work There’s Something In These Caves (It’s A Dragon And Planning To Eat Us) These Orders Indicate Our Senior Leadership Has Shit For Brains Today Is A Terrible Day To Die But I Guess That’s What We’re Doing )

The orcs end up singing most of the day.

It does not sound very good, but it's nice to see them enthusiastic.

[ceescedasticity]

Unforsaken, 12c

(All sections on tumblr)

(AO3, lagging behind but more polished)

After they stop for the night Glorfindel asks if Alphsîr and Alphlîn want to take the night off from training. They do not. They want to hit things.

Since none of them know how strong a blow from the swan-twins' power would be, Glorfindel isn't comfortable having them aim at anyone, and it's hard to strike so abstractly at nothing. He rigs up a target of a polearm stuck into the ground with a bucket on top; goal is to knock the bucket off the polearm.

(Inert objects with no real spirit of their own are not ideal targets for this kind of attack, but Glorfindel is guessing with their level of strength they should be able to manage it.)

There are a few false starts, but when Alphsîr manages to loose an actual strike the polearm gets ripped out of the ground and knocked flat in one blow, dirt flying. The polearm is also now slightly bent.

That's supposed to be a dragon-grade polearm.

Glorfindel sets up the same target again, but says they can't get another polearm for a target if this one gets too badly damaged.

(They still haven't seen any sign of dragons but wrecking all their dragon-grade polearms would surely summon some.)

(Celeborn does not, in fact, drink the rest of Legolas's Mirkwood moonshine. Celeborn stares blankly up at the stars missing Galadriel until Elladan and Elrohir bring the palantír over and make him talk to Arwen.)

*****

Turgon's reprieve is over the next day.

There is no reprieve for Celeborn, as he still insists on riding beside the wagon listening to all of it, even though Turgon tells him again he doesn't need to.

Did she talk about them?

"Not if she could avoid it I'm sure. She would have wanted to protect you."

But did she talk about them in the past, about back before she died?

"Not to me. We only ever discussed the kin we had in common, and very seldom the past. Mostly we avoided talking about our pasts at all. All orcs-who-know, not just me and L—Nimloth."

She didn't forget them, did she?

"No, no, everyone avoided— She alluded to you, sometimes — to what Celegorm's servants did to you."

What did she think about working with sons of Fëanor?

"She hated it but there weren't enough of us that we could afford to do anything about our grudges. —Except she did kick Reckless in the crotch hard enough to actually rupture something once, the first time they met when she remembered all the way."

Why do some orcs remember? How?

"There are a lot of different ways it happens. Any orc can get reminded, it's also — not falling apart, after you get reminded. I don't know why some people can handle it and some can't, and I don't know what things pushed Nimloth into remembering. It wasn't every lifetime. —That's not a bad thing. It's still awful, if you don't remember, but it's not — you don't fully understand how awful it is. Or feel as bad about how awful you are."

But if you remember can't you… be less awful?

"Well, when the Shadow was light we could just go to ground, but other orcs could do that too… You need to understand that when the Shadow is — was strong then an orc is an orc, and all of us did bad things. If we were lucky we could avoid doing bad things directly to people important to us, but all of us hurt innocents and served the Shadow's purpose. And if you were unlucky— If there was any doubt the Dark Lord could bend any of us to his will if he took the trouble, then after— There wasn't any doubt. We were weapons or we were dead. And it's hard to stay dead."

What's it like in the Crucible of Souls?

"…Hot. Close. Confusing. Bad. I'm not sure how to explain it better, just… it's very bad. It hurts. Everything always hurts, but the Crucible hurts worse."

Did she want us to come help her?

"Absolutely not, no. There's— Glorfindel recognized me once some centuries ago. He was a great warrior when I was alive and I could tell he'd gotten better, but I never once wanted him to come after me. He couldn't have done anything to help me, not truly. It would only have put both of us in danger. It might have put him in danger from me, if the Dark Lord noticed. He made an orc-who-knows torture his own son to death once, out of spite. None of us wanted our living family coming near us. She wanted you to stay away."

What happened to her, why isn't she alive now?

"I don't know what exactly happened to her, or to most of the other orcs-who-know. There were some very great battles, and landslides and other disasters — it's more surprising that we're alive than that they're dead."

…

Turgon sighs, and looks over at Celeborn for the first time in a while. "This is the thing I was hoping you wouldn't have to know. And I really don't know very much."

"Yes…?" Alphsîr prompts.

"She believed Saruman and went to Isengard. She's probably the same Leafblight that Zuste mentioned."

Celeborn goes gray.

Alphlîn asks, "What's Isengard?"

Oh, hell.

Alphlîn asks, "Are you all right, Uncle Celeborn?"

Celeborn's eyes are open, but he is starting to list sideways.

*****

Glorfindel and Elladan come take charge of Celeborn.

Elrohir herds the swan-twins up to Zena's wagon and asks her to give them a brief introduction to what was going on in Isengard. He figures they have a complete lack of relevant context that might make Zena's version appropriate.

After overhearing enough to understand what's happened, Legolas goes back and volunteers the rest of the Mirkwood moonshine. Glorfindel says to hold it in reserve but he's starting with miruvor.

[ceescedasticity]

The orc bank's surface appearance:

Option 1: As currently described, a raised symmetric branching pattern.

--Pros: Already described. Shaped like an ice crystal and the Warden is cold. They could pick an arm to destroy, meaning a smaller radius. Means the interior of the Crucible is filled with narrow dead ends.

--Cons: Maybe too pretty, too orderly for a Warden who likes destroying things. What does it mean that it's elevated precisely in the footprint of the Crucible? Does that mean that the top of the interior is above ground level?

Option 2: Instead of an ice crystal pattern, more like shattered glass.

--Pros: Sounds better as a shape.

--Cons: Should it be raised or lowered? Does lowered make sense? Also harder to imagine the interior shaped like that. Have to retcon description.

Option 3: Raised rock dome like a blister.

--Pros: Probably the easiest to… rationalize? the shape of. It makes sense it would seem like that. Nicely unpleasant-sounding.

--Cons: Would have to redo/retcon description. Very generic, not Warden-specific.

Hmmm.

[ceescedasticity]

Hypothetically speaking, if an elf died, was enslaved and became an orc, jumped into the Sea, eventually became an elf again but later died again, could they be enslaved again? Are there any double-orcs wandering around out there?

Metaphysically speaking it's possible, but it's unlikely to have ever happened.

—If it did happen it was most likely some particularly Avari Avari who snuck back east during the Second Age.

[ceescedasticity]

Hmmmm, do I want to keep the shape of the Crucible as a symmetrical dendrite (branching snowflake-like) or change it to more of a cracked glass look?

[ceescedasticity]

Do you think that anyone who sailed west after Sauron fell might have stayed a bit longer if they'd known that the Crucible was going to be destroyed and a whole lot of people would be coming back?

If they knew there was about to be solid information on the location of the Crucible, then Elrond, Galadriel, and Gandalf would all have wanted to stay and help. I am honestly not sure whether Elrond and/or Galadriel could have.

We don't know who all went with them, but it's certainly possible it included some serious business warriors who could and would have stayed to help.

[ceescedasticity]

Who/what is the Prince of Cats song referring to?

Nothing, nothing whatsoever, definitely not based on real events, in no way alluding to that time Sauron got the worst of an encounter with Lúthien and Huan!

(In veeeeeery early versions of the Lay of Leithian, the role of Sauron was played by Tevildo, Prince of Cats.)

[ceescedasticity]

Unforsaken, 12b

(All sections on tumblr)

(AO3, lagging behind but more polished)

The swans return as they're making camp. (Everyone is much less startled this time.) Alphlîn reports they have indeed located a very very large rock. Elrohir tries to get a more precise description of where said rock is while Elladan searches with the Anor-stone, so they can figure out if it would be too out of their way.

Celeborn hovers until Legolas demands that he come help with the oxen.

You commandeer your baby cousin's alcohol stash one time and they lose all respect for you.

After Elladan and Elrohir are satisfied that they have a good idea of the position of the Large Explodable Rock — adjusting their path to go by it shouldn't add more than a few days, worth it for the practice — Alphsîr and Alphlîn go to Glorfindel for more fighting lessons.

He demonstrates gathering power again, then has them try.

It takes a while to get it down. Alphsîr's power just tends to slip away out of his grasp; Alphlîn keeps unintentionally changing shape whenever he gathers his strength, from peredhel to swan or vice versa.

(No one makes any verbal comment, but based on the way Alphlîn stops mid-try to empty a waterskin over his brother's head, there may have been some discussion by private ósanwë.)

It's almost full dark by the time they have it down, and Glorfindel decides trying to use their power for something besides transforming will have to wait for next time.

The practice has evidently been tiring enough that Alphsîr and Alphlîn concede that they are hungry and will eat some lembas.

*****

In the morning, Alphsîr and Alphlîn announce they want to travel with the group today, on the ground.

Celeborn is cautiously pleased.

Celegorm wonders if he can get good enough directions to run ahead and find the explodable rock and avoid all this.

Mostly everyone is just cautious.

If Eluréd and Elurín learned how to ride, Alphsîr and Alphlîn have forgotten. The horses could easily carry them double behind any of the elven riders, but they're a little skittish for that. They say they'll just walk. Gimli's walking and his legs are shorter, it will be fine.

It should not be surprising to anyone, but is somehow surprising to everyone, that Alphsîr and Alphlîn have very little endurance when it comes to walking.

They're not weary or out of breath!

But their feet hurt. Alphsîr's shins are starting to hurt! Alphlîn has stepped on something thorny.

Well, fine; the wagons aren't anyone's idea of a comfortable ride, but they do get the weight off your feet. Would they like to pick a wagon? Yes, they'll try that.

After some prolonged eye contact — presumably private ósanwë — Alphsîr and Alphlîn turn and go straight back to the wagon Whiterot is driving, and climb in.

"We want to know what became of our mother."

She's been identified as being from Doriath; it's not an illogical conclusion that she'd keep track of Nimloth.

Unfortunately Whiterot religiously avoided anyone she thought had a reasonable chance of figuring out in any detail who she used to be, which as it happens included Nimloth.

(…Maybe not so unfortunately, since it's not like she wants to explain anything to them.)

Whiterot makes a face. "I'm not sure you actually want that, but if so, you're better off asking Turgon. They had some things in common."

Alphsîr and Alphlîn promptly climb out of her wagon and start for Turgon's. After about ten feet, Alphlîn turns around and comes back long enough to deliver a stiff "Thank you".

Turgon overheard that well enough, but he still waits for Alphsîr and Alphlîn to repeat their request before saying, "I can tell you more about your mother, but there would be no— I do not think there would be any comfort in it."

He immediately regrets changing his phrasing, but he can't say that for sure, and Idril always seemed to be able to tell when he was overstating things and did not appreciate it.

"We still want to know," Alphsîr says stubbornly.

Turgon still doesn't want to tell them. But he imagines what it would have felt like for the Eagles to deliver his father's broken body and refuse to explain what happened — how it did feel when he thought of all he didn't know of Finrod in the dungeons of Tol-in-Gaurhoth, of Aredhel in Nan Elmoth, even knowing it might be worse than he could imagine—

(He still occasionally wonders about Nan Elmoth. Not so much Tol-in-Gaurhoth. He thinks he can probably guess about that, these days.)

He looks at Celeborn, who has been trailing after Alphsîr and Alphlîn up and down the caravan. "You don't need to be here for this."

(Because it hurts, to hear something terrible happened to your parent or your sibling or cousin — but Nimloth is Celeborn's niece. He knew her as a child.)

"I think I do," Celeborn says.

"Are you sure?"

Celeborn nods.

Well, Turgon warned him. He turns back to Alphsîr and Alphlîn. "What is it that you want to know?"

They look at each other for a moment, then he asks, "Why did she say you have things in common?"

This part is easy, at least. Easy-ish. "Most importantly, Elwing married my grandson Eärendil, so their son Elrond was a grandchild to both me and your mother, and we both wanted to know what we could about his life and his family, and hoped they were well. And Celeborn here is Nimloth's uncle and married to my cousin Galadriel. If either of us came into information about any of them and could share it discreetly with the other, we did so."

(That was their agreement, at least. They'd seldom had a chance to in practice; any information they got was usually generally available to orcs, and since they didn't seek each other's company particularly they usually both knew it when their paths crossed again.)

"And… Caraxitári said you were enslaved the same way our mother is," Alphsîr says.

Alphlîn adds, "Not you specifically. She said there were those enslaved the same way our mother is here, and that's you and Whiterot and the Fëanorion and… the other one."

"What does that mean?" Alphsîr picks up again. "That you are enslaved the same way?"

"We were… both captured as spirits and made orcs?" Turgon says.

"But what does that mean?"

Celeborn clears his throat (to Turgon's intense relief). "Alphsîr, Alphlîn… are you familiar with what orcs are?"

"They're orcs," Alphsîr replies, indicating Turgon.

"Yes, but… more generally, do you not—"

Celeborn stops himself before asking if they were taught of orcs back in Menegroth, or Ossiriand. If they were they will have forgotten. He just assumed that they would still know what orcs are. Because everyone knows what orcs are.

"To be completely clear," he says carefully. "You do not know any of the history of orcs and their involvement in the wars of Morgoth and then Sauron?"

"…No," Alphsîr says.

"Our mother bid us not go near the Shadow," Alphlîn says.

Celeborn closes his eyes briefly. "Then I think, before you speak to Turgon, I need to speak of that."

So that's what he does, all the rest of the day.

(Maglor thinks going into that conversation without flinching is one of the braver things Celeborn has done, but figures he probably won't want to hear that.)

(Khitwê, Risyind, Elladan, Elrohir, Zuste, and Zena have a long discussion — made longer by wagon-driving requirements — on whether or not the majority of the Pelnûru should be considered to know what orcs are, considering that they will give an accurate description of 'horrible ones' which are clearly orcs and then not acknowledge the Dark Lord connection. Sharlinnu has no opinion; in her day they were already spitefully downplaying the Shadow's significance, but not to the point of brushing over the connection between the Dark Hunter at Kuynennu and his creatures. Probably that changed after so many people died in the Involution.)

(Legolas tells Gimli he thinks he's going to have to give Celeborn all the rest of his Mirkwood moonshine. Gimli agrees.)

(Turgon could do without this conversation happening in his wagon, but since he's not being asked to participate in the conversation he's not going to complain.)

[ceescedasticity]

Unforsaken, 11d

(All sections on tumblr)

(AO3, lagging behind but more polished)

While Glorfindel talks further to Eluréd-and-Elurín/Alphsîr-and-Alphlîn and Celeborn hovers awkwardly to the side, everyone else finishes setting up camp and tries not to gossip too obviously.

A top matter of discussion is why Eluréd and Elurín are using different names.

Risyind figures they wanted to use different names to suit the different lives they were taking.

Khitwê suggests they might have thought someone would react to the "Elu" negatively, as he gathers their namesake is somewhat… contentious?

Legolas says Thingol isn't that contentious… but if they didn't want history and politics following them everywhere, well…

Zuste says she was just assuming they couldn't remember their original names.

Oh right peredhil may not experience elvish clarity of childhood memory.

Elladan and Elrohir (and Arwen) actually have very elf-typical early childhood memories, or at least feel like they do. How much that's organic and how much that was helped along by family and community patching up any holes is impossible to say at this point.

Which is to say, both Celeborn and Glorfindel know about the peredhil childhood memory thing, but they don't know know about it. It may not have occurred to them. Elladan figures someone should probably remind them later.

(Sharlinnu thinks automatically forgetting infancy sounds like a pretty good deal at this point but elects not to bring it up and inevitably derail the conversation.)

Gimli as well as the Hirnedhrim had no idea that elves did remember their infancies. Gimli and Zena would like to be able to remember; Zuste and Dyn would not.

"—And I'm surprised you do, Zena. What are you expecting to remember that you would want to?"

"Maybe I want to know if Dielina is telling the truth about baby you biting everyone you met."

(Dielina is five years older than Zena, who is three years older than Zuste. The goblin-men of Dunland mostly came in runs like that — three to eight inside a decade or two, then longer gaps. …While the Fair Orc was busy being dead, apparently.) (There were, of course, a number of older yet siblings around to raise them, at the time. They're just all dead now.)

Elladan steers the conversation onto safer (if irrelevant) ground by starting to recount all the biting Dúnedain children he had Elrohir have met over the centuries.

(The Sons of Fëanor do not say anything.)

(In addition to not wanting to attract attention, Celegorm really doesn't have anything to say.)

(Maglor knows knows about the peredhil childhood memory thing, having been witness to Elrond and Elros realizing they had lost things. They tried not to make a big deal out of it, especially in front of him, but. He knows knows.)

(He also knows that two small children focused on each other will not, necessarily, use each other's names enough to be well reminded of them.)

(Maglor is quite sure they don't remember whose name was whose.)

(He is saying nothing.)

*****

Elladan and Elrohir make the nightly palantír-call to Arwen as quietly and unobtrusively as they can, and report the confirmed arrival of their great-uncles. Swan-uncles.

"They don't seem to want to talk to anyone right now," Elrohir says.

"They don't seem to particularly want to be here," Elladan adds. "I don't think they would have come if Caraxitári — the Queen of the Geese — hadn't pushed them to."

"I think she's hoping they'll… re-acclimate?" Arwen offers.

(Re-imprint. The Queen of the Geese is hoping they'll re-imprint on the correct species.)

"I'm not sure whether there's any chance of that if they don't want to…"

When the conversation dies down, Gimli comes over to see if he can talk to Aragorn for a few minutes. He needs to share Celeborn not only calling Gimli a 'hero of the last war' but calling Gimli's people 'staunch allies'.

"Did he mean my people at Aglon? Erebor? The Line of Durin? Longbeards? He can't have meant all dwarves—"

"Honestly I think he was probably just trying to emphasize that they could trust you specifically…"

Meanwhile Zena is, by popular Zuste and Dyn's request, retelling the story of That Time Four Of Our Siblings Went Up To Those Marshes Where The Border-River Meets The Greyflood And Had A Survival Horror Experience Involving The Local Swans.

****

Glorfindel gets as far as showing Alphsîr and Alphlîn what it looks like when he gathers his power in order to apply it. He's starting to talk them through the process when one of the Geese circles overhead.

"That's Caraxitári," Alphsîr says. "She means it's time for us to sleep."

He still sounds very stiff and awkward but that is definitely disgruntlement.

"If you're living like swans that does make sense?" Celeborn offers. "Would you like to overnight here, or return to the Geese?"

"…We'll stay," Alphsîr says finally.

They turn back into swans, and settle themselves in the grass.

After a while they fall asleep.

Celeborn sits down right where he was standing. "What's the strongest thing we have to drink?"

Glorfindel: "…Sorry, but we didn't think this was the sort of journey that would allow for alcoholic indulgences."

Glorfindel is not saying: Also you and Maglor between you have polished off at least half of Imladris's remaining liquor stores since this whole thing started and I might want some of that at some point, did you ever think about that!

Celeborn: "Legolas Thranduilion. Do you or do you not have a few skins of Mirkwood moonshine somewhere in your baggage."

Legolas: had not realized Celeborn knows about that

Glorfindel: "If you're hung over tomorrow I'm not explaining it to the twins. Either twins."

[ceescedasticity]

Unforsaken, 12d

(All sections on tumblr)

(AO3, lagging behind but more polished)

The next day Glorfindel has Alphlîn and Alphsîr practicing launching attacks from the air at a (slowly) moving target, specifically a bundle of a grass tied to a (very) long rope tied to the back of the rearmost wagon. They have to replace the target after each successful hit.

After a few hours when they've gotten pretty good at it, Glorfindel tasks them with working on precision — hit the target, and not him and Asfaloth, who will be riding along. He starts out a couple wagon-lengths away, but wants to see how close he can get to the target before he has to start dodging or blocking.

Celeborn has pulled himself together enough to sit in the rearmost wagon and try to provide moral support/encouraging commentary.

Up at the front of the caravan, Maglor falls in beside Whiterot's wagon.

"I've been thinking about what I should say," Whiterot says. "It's hard, because I was in Angband for years before my first death. And that was— I'm sure there are many former thralls who would say being an orc is worse. Being an orc is wretched. But for me, being an elf in Angband was worse."

…Huh. "Do you… want to talk about that, then?"

"Absolutely not."

They ride in silence for a time.

(Or not talking to each other, at least. Elvish hearing being what it is, Maglor can clearly hear Zuste and Dyn in the next wagon worrying about whether the magic crates would protect the Wizard's Clay if the swan-twins miss really badly. Also Elladan having a one-sided conversation with some of the relief oxen who are trying to wander astray, and Risyind explaining something about causeways, and even Turgon offering Glorfindel unsolicited and unneeded dodging advice.)

Whiterot finally asks, "Did Bellow and Screech talk to you about multiplication duties?"

"Turgon did some," Maglor says carefully. "Sharlinnu talked about — childhood, for lack of a better word, but not… how that came about."

"The obvious subject, then, I suppose."

(An incomplete description of 'the obvious subject':

No one likes multiplication duties. It makes you aware of your body and it makes you vulnerable and you have to take your clothes off and the itch is annoying and no one likes it at all.

But it's harder on the ones who have to do the bearing.

It would kill an elf, to bear nine children in five years. Even in Angband with the Dark Lord's will keeping slaves from death, there just wouldn't be anything left. Orcs aren't precisely bearing children, it doesn't drain their already-battered fëar or break their hearts, but it is still physically grueling. It's painful and exhausting and the amount of food you have to get through every day is absurd.

The suckling period is at least brief, only about a month. But it's deeply uncomfortable, and worse—

Most of the time, your heart is too dead to bond with the thing while it's suckling — but the miserable hröa may still try.

And everyone says it's just five years at most after you mature and by the time you're fifteen your job is killing, and you can forget about it, or convince yourself it wasn't so bad. But if you survive long enough — live past a defeat, live through the Shadow ebbing for a while, live until the Shadow seeps into you again and calls you back — you will be called back to multiply for another few years.

("I am never going to fully understand how Straw and Squint could stand to have Mist and Rain. Both of them had appalling childhoods in their first lives, which I think explains how they could think it was an acceptable situation to bring a child into, but I don't understand how they accepted the — vulnerability of it. No amount of walls in the head could make it seem safe.")

It never ends.)

"Nothing about being an orc ever ends," Whiterot says. "Thralldom didn't end either, for me, but— Being an orc, you have to walk the same terrible road over and over and over again. You're born, you grow, you remember you're a person just in time to fully appreciate it as your body is turned against you. Multiplication duties, and then death, death, torment, death, death, until finally it's your death but you're just right back in the Crucible. Over and over and over."

(Maglor carefully does not ask what she went through in Angband, that the totality of being an orc still is not worse.)

*****

They arrive at the Large Explodable Rock.

—It might also be described as a small steep hill with little plant life, but really, it's a cracked boulder the size of a house. The black stone is incongruous among the grasses and flowers.

Maglor says he doesn't like the look of it.

Gimli says regardless of how it looks he's puzzled how it got here. He's never personally done any excavating in the Grey Mountains but he doesn't think the stone there looks like this, and anyway they're leagues away now! There aren't any similar landforms in sight…

They check the rock over. Glorfindel, Celeborn, and Elladan and Elrohir agree that while it does feel vaguely sinister somehow? it isn't actually dangerous. It's just been sitting here in the middle of nowhere for ages, being a rock.

Maglor grudgingly ventures close enough to poke at it. "Does anyone else think this looks like—" He stops. "Celegorm, does this look like a piece of Thangorodrim to you?"

Turgon rolls his eyes dramatically but doesn't dispute that Maglor and Celegorm saw considerably more of Thangorodrim than people who spent most of the Siege in Gondolin. (Let alone Celeborn.) Although, actually—

"It doesn't look much like the lower slopes," says Whiterot.

—Those who were orcs in the First Age also got a pretty good look at some parts of it. Whiterot is right. It doesn't look much like the lower slopes.

"No, it looks like the cliffs higher up," Celegorm says. "But you're proposing, what, a piece of Thangorodrim just… suddenly appeared here? Fell out of the sky?"

Well, yes.

Very few orcs survived being in the open in the vicinity of the end of the War of Wrath long enough to get a clear idea of what was going on. So, quick catch-up.

Between Ancalagon falling on Thangorodrim and various high-power assaults from both sides, the mountains were breaking apart and shifting around.

Some of the pieces looked like they might be about to shift down onto the attacking Elves, Men, and Dwarves.

Eönwë and the other maiar present helpfully prevented this; some balrogs or other umaiar tried to encourage it. After some push and pull Eönwë evidently decided to remove the hazards from the battlefield by launching them up and away.

And honestly most people on the battlefield promptly forgot about it. There were other things to worry about.

But! They found out later that, at around the same time, at about the latitude of the Grey Mountains but well east of the Sea of Rhûn, a giant ball of fire fell out of the sky and created a gulf where there hadn't been one before. (There may already have a been a depression inland? But there was definitely not water there before.)

Also Pelnûru scholars believe a rain of stone was one contributing factor to Cuiviénen as it once was not existing anymore.

Zuste whistles. "Ooops."

"That's," Screech starts, then stops. "That's—" She turns to Khitwê and Risyind. "Adjuration Abridged, the lines that repeat—"

"That's gods for you," Khitwê and Risyind helpfully chorus.

"Thank you, you'd think it'd let me vaguely insult — things."

"We definitely weren't complaining at the time," Maglor says. "I'm inclined to call Cuiviénen an acceptable loss, even, given the stakes. I don't know what used to be where this Gulf is—"

"Maybe Straw's home village, but that was definitely an acceptable loss," Whiterot says. Turgon snorts.

Anyway, since pieces of Thangorodrim were definitely falling out of the sky even farther away, there's no reason a smaller piece couldn't have ended up here.

With that question answered, it's time for Wizard's Clay practice, with stone this time!

(Celegorm to Maglor, as Gimli is setting up: Do you think if I said Noldor tools are better I could get Celeborn to defend dwarves and make that face again?

Maglor: Don't insult Gimli or his tools with pointless comparisons.

Maglor: …I'm not sure it's true anyway.

Celegorm: Neither am I, and I bet neither is Celeborn, and that's what makes it funny.

Maglor: …It would be funny, but still don't do it.

Celegorm: This is why everyone says you're boring.

Maglor: You are the only one who says that.)