#thu = melkor

[dalliansss]

No. 28 for Melkor/Sauron, please? 💌

Angbang + 28 = …as a lie.

Snow dusts the shores of Almaren. Mairon lets his golden eyes wander upon the many and varied snowpersons that litter the far northern lakeshore, all of them wrought with varying sizes of snowballs, and the twigs that made up the arms positioned so, such that they all seemed to be striking individual poses. The snowballs are lumpy and it takes Mairon all of his self-control not to tear them down and rebuild them, all perfectly spherical, all the twig-arms the exact same length, and angle.

He does not need to turn his head to know Thû has materialized from wherever it was that he goes unclad. Mairon feels his heart quicken inside his fana, and he turns to find the 'maia of Námo' standing a few paces behind him, grinning in that infuriatingly attractive, lopsided smirk of his.

"I wished to talk to you, Thû, it is why I sent a note," said Mairon.

He, the chief maia of Aulë, has never known hesitation. He Sang of Order in the Music after all, and Order left no room for floundering. Just purpose, a straight road to get there no matter what. This one thing was the same, and Mairon will approach it with the same direct manner.

"Oh?" Thû casually plucks up a lock of his own black hair and twirls it around a finger. "And here I thought you would criticize mine snowpersons, for being lumpy. Just so you know, I did make them rather lumpy, for I know it annoys you."

Mairon rolls his eyes. He takes a step forward, and another. Thû quirks a perfect eyebrow at him. They stand so close, that Mairon could just reach out and brush his fingertips on the other maia's cheek.

And he does. Tis fascinating, how Thû's skin runs just a little colder than his own. But then again he is Fire-maia. Ever burning. Ever warm. Ever radiant.

He leans forward. He kisses Thû upon the lips. Mairon puts forth all his earnestness here, yet it half-maddens him to be unable to read Thû at all. Even if his kiss is returned, just a little.

Inscrutable.

Mairon draws back first. "I want to bond with you, in the same manner my lord and his lady are bonded."

Thû's eyebrows shoot higher that for a moment Mairon is afraid they will disappear from his fana.

"You would, would you?" said Thû, and the smirk reappears on his lips again, but this time, it is a smirk that promises something else. "I have a condition."

"Speak it," says Mairon.

"Already agreeing without hearing?"

"Speak it, and if it is within my power, I will give it."

"Tis rather simple. Come away with me." Thû's smile grows.

Soft confusion suffuses Mairon's features. "For a day? Is it not what we are doing now?"

Thû laughs. He steps back, turns, and the snow seems to fall just a little heavier around them. Mairon feels the faint whispers of concern as he keeps his gaze on this one, this mysterious Ainu, with his black tunics and his black hair and his purple eyes, literal hooks for the fëa.

I'd follow him everywhere if it was within my power to do so, Mairon thinks.

[gloriaregaii]

My roman empire.

@rh6enys / kai on Tiktok.

[aureentuluva70]

I found these and I don't know about you but I've since become fixated with the idea of Sauron actually being very alike to Manwë except in, you know, being incredibly malicious and cruel. Basically if Manwë had fallen to evil. Which makes the fact that Melkor makes Mairon his top lieutenant both funny and yet strangely sad all at once.

[sansaorgana]

— FOREVER BOUND

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Maia!Reader

SUMMARY — You and Mairon were created together by Eru and ever since you remained nearly inseparable. He chose to follow Melkor but you stayed loyal to your gods. Even though he was believed to be slain, you meet your soulmate once again many years later in Númenor where you serve the Valar by helping Tar-Míriel with your counsel.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I started writing this fic like two weeks ago but I got distracted in the meantime with different ideas 🤧 (Y/N) is used here as the Reader's "real" name, therefore I gave her human form in Númenor a name and that is Maneth, which apparently means Departed Spirit. The dynamic between Sauron and the Reader is lowkey inspired by that quote from Wuthering Heights – He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. Also, I was very fixated on making the short prologue of this fic sound like it was taken from The Silmarillion but it was a challenge, especially when English is not my first language, so yeah, I have to admit I used "the chat" a bit to help me in the beginning (and only there) 🙈. It didn't write even a single sentence for me, though, it only helped me with reshaping the phrases to sound more like the way I wanted them to be. I have never used AI to help me write my fics, so I feel a bit weird with it but I think the prologue sounds great now, so I decided to keep it this way. However, I wanted to admit to it here because I would feel bad otherwise. Once more – "the chat" did not write even a single sentence for me. I only needed its help with finding better sounding phrases to express what I have already written all by myself and it was only for the short prologue of the story. I didn't put any warnings but I think that – if you squint – it can have a bit of a twincest vibe...? 😳 At least I thought so while writing some scenes but maybe it's just my messed up mind going into such places 🙈 The fic is quite long but I didn't want to divide this one into two parts.

WORD COUNT — 7,930

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

FOREVER BOUND

Together were they fashioned by the thought of Eru Ilúvatar, Mairon and (Y/N), kindred spirits among the Maiar, and thus were their fates entwined. Mairon was drawn to Aulë the Smith, whose lore of crafting and forging he learned with eager mind, while (Y/N) was taken under the care of Varda Elentári, the Queen of Stars, and to her was revealed the mysteries of light and the heavens.

In those days of ancient bliss, when the first flowers were made to bloom, Mairon would gather their blossoms for (Y/N), and together they would abide for hours in fields unmarred by shadow. Often, he would craft jewels of wondrous beauty, offering them to her in token of his affection. Yet his most treasured gift to her was a ring, fair and unmarred, crafted in the purity of his early days, before his spirit turned to darker counsel.

It is said that (Y/N) wore that ring ever upon her hand, and that when Varda revealed to her the art of setting stars in the firmament, she bestowed the first star of her own making with the name «Mairon», that his light might endure forever.

In the later days, when Mairon fell to the shadow and allied himself with Melkor, he sought ever to draw (Y/N) to his side, weaving words of guile and repentance. Many times did he deceive her, and she, moved by their bond, hoped he might yet be redeemed. Yet she held fast to the Valar, and her faith remained unbroken.

Mairon's descent brought sorrow unending to (Y/N), and often she pleaded with the Valar to grant him mercy. Yet Varda would have her no longer as a disciple, for the brightness of her spirit had dimmed, and her heart clung still to one who had been corrupted. Then Nienna, She Who Weeps, took pity upon (Y/N) and took her into her care, teaching her of endurance and grief. And it was Nienna who spoke in favour of Mairon when Melkor, feigning humility, sought pardon from the Valar, for she understood well the love that bound (Y/N) to him.

Yet no reunion came to pass, for Mairon fled from the wrath of the Valar, and he vanished into the shadows of the world, so that some claimed him slain. The star that bore his name faded from the heavens, and it is told that (Y/N) wept until her tears filled a lake in The Southlands, and thus was the dark and bitter Lake Núrnen brought into being, a testament to her sorrow.

You were sent to Númenor to aid the Queen Regent with your counsel. Míriel suspected that you were no ordinary human being but she knew better than to ask too many questions. Very quickly you were promoted in her council, which was visibly making Ar-Pharazôn uneasy and suspicious of you because you had shown up out of nowhere one day, posing to be a noble Lady from Middle-earth… but who truly knew where you were coming from? 

The fate of this beautiful island given to the ancestors of these people was uncertain, though. It was teetering between glory and ruin. You were there to make sure they would choose the right path when the time of difficult decisions would come.

When you heard that one of the captains brought a She-Elf to Númenor that he had found in an open sea, you knew immediately that it was no coincidence. It was surely the very beginning of something new. Something exciting and worrying, too.

The time you had already spent in Númenor was enough for you to fall in love with the island and its people. The Queen Regent was truly your friend and you hoped for nothing else but for this realm’s happiness.

You were standing next to Míriel when Captain Elendil walked two castaways inside the hall. She-Elf you recognised immediately because it was Lady Galadriel. She, however, could not recognise you because of your disguise. At the sight of a dirty, ragged common man walking beside her, you felt an odd shiver going down your spine.

You looked down, nervously, when he looked up to meet your gaze. Your fingers busied themselves with a ring that decorated your finger for long centuries now – it would never leave you, no matter what form you were in.

You could not understand why some random human was making you feel such odd sensations as if the air between you two vibrated and caused disruption inside the room.

“No one kneels in Númenor,” the Queen Regent announced to Lady Galadriel and her new friend when they attempted to do so.

Out of curiosity that you seemed not to be able to stop, you looked up again when the man did the same. Your eyes met and you could barely contain yourself because the soul trapped inside the form you were in was about to explode.

He was no ordinary human being and you wondered if Lady Galadriel knew about it.

Who could it be, though? The Valar would not send any help for you here without warning you beforehand. Even if they would, no other Maia was able to make you feel this extraordinary way. 

No other Maia except for one.

The fingers fidgeting with your ring squeezed it tighter at the memory of Mairon. He had been long gone now and all that seemed to be left of him was that ring. Not even his star shone bright in the night sky anymore.

The only part of Mairon that still remained was not that ring, though. It was you – he would forever live inside of you like you had lived inside of him and like part of you had died the day he had been slain.

“Speak, Elf. Name thyself,” Míriel ordered Lady Galadriel and Galadriel’s eyes found yours. She tilted her head but decided not to comment although now you were certain that she could sense what kind of spirit you were.

“Galadriel of the Noldor,” she introduced herself. “Daughter of the Golden House of Finarfin. Commander of the Northern Armies of High King Gil-Galad.”

The man she came with looked at her with furrowed brows before deciding to introduce himself as well.

“Halbrand,” he said. “Of The Southlands,” he added.

“A man and an Elf, together?” You asked as you approached the Queen Regent.

“Circumstances arose that–” The man named Halbrand began but Galadriel did not allow him to finish.

“We are companions by chance. Met on the open sea. Your captain here, delivered us from certain death,” she looked at Elendil. “All we ask is that Númenor continue his mercy and grant us ship’s passage to Middle-earth.”

The crowd gathered inside the hall began to chatter between each other. It was uncommon to see an Elf in Númenor these days and Galadriel was far from humble. Her demands were not making anyone here happy and you could sense that.

The only man whose aura you could not sense was him again – the filthy commoner.

Míriel exchanged a meaningful look with Ar-Pharazôn before her cousin spoke.

“It’s been generations since a ship of Númenor was permitted to make such a journey on an Elf’s behalf,” he told the Elf, harshly.

You wondered how Galadriel would accept the fact that here, in Númenor, she was not an authority to anyone and her presence was barely intimidating. You knew her heart was of a pure kind but it was no mystery amongst the Valar, the Maiar and the Elves that she also needed to be humbled very often but such occasions were quite rare.

“It is because of the Elves that you were given this island,” she reminded but such words only worsened her situation. “Surely you can spare a few planks and a rudder.”

Míriel looked behind to stare at your face, visibly searching for your counsel. You shook your head slightly to let her know that you did not think following Galadriel’s orders was a good idea. It did not escape Ar-Pharazôn’s eye as he shot you a deadly glance. He hated the influence you had over his cousin.

“Our ancestors were not given anything,” the Queen Regent smiled softly at Galadriel as she walked down the stairs to approach the Elf and her human companion. “They paid for this isle with the blood of their kin.”

“What the Elf means–” Halbrand tried to save the situation.

“Then if blood be the price of passage, I will pay it,” Galadriel interrupted him again and you sighed softly. “But one way or another, I will depart.”

One of your tasks in Númenor was to help rebuild the friendship between the humans of this island and the Elves. Lady Galadriel was definitely not helping you.

“I welcome you to try,” Míriel nodded.

“I have no need of your welcome,” Galadriel continued with her rude remarks and Halbrand looked at her with panic in his eyes before looking back at the guards by the doors.

“And you are quickly wearing out yours,” the Queen Regent warned Galadriel. “Guards,” she called for them.

“My friends!” Halbrand exclaimed, getting everyone’s attention and you despised it.

You despised it because your weak human form struggled once more to contain your trembling spirit. You were scared that you would be this island’s doom yourself any given moment if you suddenly erupted as if you were a volcano. Your fingers began to tremble and you lowered your gaze, pretending to be humble.

“It seems to me that our leaving presents some complications,” Halbrand pointed out. “Perhaps it’d be better if we stayed–”

“Stayed?!” Galadriel barked at him.

“Long enough, good Queen, to give you and your advisors adequate time to weigh our request,” he looked up at you.

You were holding your gaze lowered but you knew somehow that he was staring at you. You could feel his eyes piercing you through because the way he was staring was not of an ordinary kind. He was not glancing at your flesh but at your soul. You felt as if you were naked in front of him and as if there was nobody else inside this palace except for you two.

The ring around your finger seemed to get heavier all of the sudden as it reminded you one more about the only creature in this world who had known you so well and who could have made you feel similar.

“A few days, perhaps?” Halbrand looked back at Míriel and you sighed out of relief once you got free from his burning gaze.

The Queen Regent looked back at you once more and you looked up only slightly to nod at her. Ar-Pharazôn rolled his eyes but he did not disagree – at least not openly.

“Three days,” he ordered. “And the Elf is to be restricted to palace grounds.”

“I will not be made a prisoner!” Galadriel protested.

“I would sooner knee-cap a stallion than seek to imprison the mighty Commander of the Northern Armies,” Ar-Pharazôn answered ironically and the crowd laughed at her. “So, you shall be Númenor’s guest.”

You could feel the tension in the room slowly relaxing and you nodded at the Queen Regent before walking out in a hurry, feeling Halbrand’s eyes on you as you were walking out in a haste with your skirts gathered in your fists, rushing to your chambers to collect your chaotic thoughts.

You had a malicious feeling creeping up deep inside of you – no, not even a feeling. An odd, eerie certainty. And as much as you wished for it to not be true, you also wanted it to be and you felt guilty for experiencing such cursed yearning to see and touch him again. Your Mairon.

When you heard from your maid at the end of the day that the human named Halbrand ended up in jail already for starting a fight, you simply could not stop yourself from paying him a visit. You walked inside the prison area of the palace carefully as you moved quietly throughout the hall with your dress flowing behind you gently.

The man was sitting on the floor with his back leaning on the wall. He was smirking as he watched you with no reaction whatsoever. Once more you noticed that you could not sense his aura or predict his mood like you usually could with most creatures, even the noblest of the Elves.

“You are no human,” you stated as you stood right in front of his cell. Halbrand snorted at that and rolled his eyes. “Who are you?” You asked and he only shook his head.

You grabbed the bars and squeezed them tightly as the silence broke due to your ring clashing with the iron. The sound echoed and Halbrand turned his head around rapidly while he squinted his eyes at your ring.

“Are you him?” You asked, nearly desperately. “Are you my Mairon?”

Halbrand stood up finally and even though he seemed to be more serious now, he still had a playful smirk on his lips. He approached you with his arms crossed and you caught yourself staring at his tan, flexed muscles before you looked up to meet his sparkling eyes once more. Nothing but the iron bars between you two and it was you squeezing them tight although he was the imprisoned one.

“You would look like a crazy maniac if I was not,” he whispered, leaning in. He was so close that you could feel his warm breath on your face.

“You were supposed to be dead…” you whispered and closed your eyes, feeling warm tears streaming down your cheeks. You squeezed your fists even tighter around the bars as your whole soul vibrated throughout your human form.

“I am sorry to disappoint you,” Halbrand answered.

“Your star has faded away, I have cried so many tears, have been outcast by Varda because with you, some of my own light faded away, too,” you revealed in a trembling voice before opening your hazy and wet eyes. He was staring at you without playfulness now. “I know it would be better for this world if you stayed dead but I feel joy to be with you again,” you confessed.

His rough fingertips brushed the ring wrapped around your finger as he smiled sadly.

“This ring remains older than most creatures of this realm,” he pointed out.

“I have never taken it off, Mairon,” you assured him. “Nothing in this world is older than the bond between us.”

“That is quite blasphemous,” he smirked and you shook your head as you had no idea what to say to that. He was right – you should not claim such things, you were no god. But yet, whatever was between you and him – it felt so overwhelming, so overlooming. 

Your souls were entangled, made of the same stardust. You were the same spirit, the same heart, the same blood; only split in two forms and that was enough pain to be apart in that way. Spending centuries without him at all, thinking he was dead… It was like death itself.

But Mairon was back now and alongside him back was the part of you that had died with him.

“Will you tell them about me, (Y/N)?” He asked, quietly.

“I should, should I not? You are up to no good,” you sniffled your tears back and your eyes met his. You let go of the iron bars and extended your hands to cup his scratched cheeks. When you touched, you felt your whole body trembling, barely able to contain your spirit and your power.

“I am up to the greater good. You know that my path is the right one; it is the only path. My only goal is to heal,” he assured you and leaned in to place a soft kiss upon the palm of your hand as you gasped.

“Up to no good then,” you let out a small chuckle through your tears. You knew him enough already to know what it meant.

You wanted to get rid of the iron bars and to kiss him. His form differed from his previous one but it was never about his flesh – it was always about whatever it contained.

You had never really kissed, though. All those centuries you had spent with each other, you had spent it on yearning and gazing at yourselves, stealing soft pecks upon your cheeks or knuckles, giving each other gifts and talking sweet to one another.

Because you knew that the Maiar had not been created to love – not like this, at least. They had not been created to know the pleasures of the flesh or its desires. They had been created to serve the gods.

Perhaps something had gone wrong during the act of your creation. Perhaps it had not – perhaps it was that part of him living inside of you that craved to be close to him at all times just like the part of you living inside of him craved to be close to you.

“Join me, (Y/N), come with me, be my Queen,” Halbrand whispered and you froze, taking your hands away immediately.

“Not even half an hour I was given to enjoy your return for you are trying to deceive me once more,” you remarked, harshly.

He had been known to tease and tempt you countless of times but your soul remained pure no matter what.

“Melkor is no more. I am my own master now but I will never be whole without you by my side,” Halbrand was the one to wrap his hands around the iron bars now as he moved even closer while you took a step back. “Varda outcasted you? I will make sure no one in Middle-earth worships her no more for you will become their Queen of Light.”

“Revenge is not what I seek,” you shook your head. “Please, Mairon, your words are like daggers. I cannot handle them,” you turned your head around as more and more of your tears streamed down your cheeks.

“Refuse me as much as you like, (Y/N). A part of you lives inside of me and that is my lightness. A part of me lives inside of you and it is the part you consider rotten. Be careful, my dear, for the rot likes to spread,” Halbrand warned you although his voice remained sweet.

“I have never considered anything coming from you to be rotten,” you laid your eyes upon him again.

“Can you not see, my sweet? They keep us apart because together we would become so powerful that we could outcast the gods themselves,” Halbrand continued and his whisper caused a shiver to go down your spine. His words were wrong… So wrong. “Together, we could be anything we wanted. We could be forged into one flesh if we wished, forever bound.”

“If you cared so much about us being together, you would let me lure you back into the light instead of trying to tempt me to join you in darkness, Mairon,” you whispered in Quenya.

“It pains me when you keep insisting that my path is the darkness. Your blind obedience to our creators is much darker to me, my love,” he answered.

Perhaps you would go on like that – and knowing you two, you could do that for ages. But you were interrupted by Lady Galadriel, who looked you up and down with curiosity as she entered the prison.

“The most trusted advisor of the Queen Regent,” she greeted you, “but the least trusted one amongst her subjects. You come from Middle-earth, they say. A noble Lady. But I have never heard of you before,” Galadriel pointed out.

“Must Elves know all about human affairs?” You challenged her and she smiled, softly.

“Human? Yes,” Galadriel answered. “There are spirits, however, that remain out of our grasp. They are no gods but nearly like them. Sent to us by the Valar when we need aid,” she squinted her eyes.

“I shall remain out of your grasp then,” you nodded and she nodded back.

“What is going on?” Halbrand whined, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms again. Putting on an act of a common man in front of Galadriel and even though you knew you should scream into her face that he was the very darkness she had sworn to fight and defeat – you chose to stay silent. Perhaps he would redeem himself, perhaps he would realise that he might be given a second chance if only he decided to choose the right path this time.

Perhaps, before outing him to the outside world, you would try to fix his way of perceiving which path was the right one.

And you knew he had been given too many chances already but your heart would never give up on him. You would forever find excuses for him and try to make it right between you two.

“You…” Galadriel approached the iron bars as she smiled softly at Halbrand. “You do not belong on this island.”

“If there’s one of us that doesn’t belong here, Elf, it’s you,” Halbrand shook his head.

“I’m not so sure of that anymore,” Galadriel’s eyes sparkled as she briefly laid them upon you. “But one thing I am now certain. You are more than you claim,” she took a step further. “I found this in the Hall of Lore,” she handed Halbrand a scroll of paper that made you squint your eyes.

He took it, pretending to be unbothered. And when he opened it, you saw a heraldry drawing, suddenly realising he was wearing a pendant with the same mark. What was the game he was playing…?

“That’s funny. I found this on a dead man,” Halbrand winked at you before he looked at Galadriel with a smirk. “Thought the pattern suited me,” he added and sat down on a bench inside his cell.

Galadriel sighed and she glanced at you, as if she was expecting you to help her. You did not move an inch, however.

“Many ages ago, a man bearing that mark united the scattered tribes of the Southlands under one banner,” she told Halbrand. “The very banner that might unite them again today. Against the evil that now seeks to claim their lands. Your lands, Halbrand,” she emphasised and you sucked on the inside of your cheeks after realising what his clever scheme was. “Your people have no King for you are him,” Galadriel kept insisting.

Your Mairon, the great deceiver, knew very well that eagerly agreeing to all of this would not be as powerful as trying to pretend to be uninterested at first. Therefore, he looked away and chuckled.

“That’s an odd thing to say to a man in a cage,” he pointed out. 

“A cage you have landed in because you chafe under the rags of the common,” Galadriel claimed as she looked at you again. “My Lady, you must tell your Queen the truth.”

“No Elf will tell me what I must or I must not do,” you smirked as you shook your head at how arrogant she was. You had to play your role but even as your Maia self, you wanted to humble her. “I doubt one pendant proves this man’s heritage enough.”

“What about his testimony?” Galadriel was not giving up as she looked at Halbrand again. “The armour that ought to rest upon your shoulders weighs upon your soul, Halbrand.”

Long silence occurred, in which you were able to watch the master of deception performing his craft. The way he kept staring at the drawing, his face full of mixed emotions and confusion, guilt. The way he grabbed the pendant with his hands and brushed it gently with his fingertips. Everyone would believe him.

“Be careful, Elf,” he said eventually. “The heir to this mark is heir to more than just nobility,” Halbrand stood up to approach the iron bars. “For it was his ancestor who swore a blood oath to Morgoth,” he reminded her and you were in awe how he used the bits of dark truth about himself to toy with her and test the waters.

And how oblivious she was, how eager to keep following the scenario she had already prepared for this situation to go with in her head.

“I am not the hero you seek,” Halbrand shook his head.

Indeed, he was not.

“For it was my family that lost the war,” he added.

“And it was mine who started it,” Galadriel insisted. “Ours was no chance meeting,” she pointed out and looked at you again. “No fate, nor destiny, nor any other words men use to speak of the forces they lack the conviction to name. Ours was the work of something greater,” she smiled at you and you forced a smile back.

Was she thinking that it was you who caused this meeting? Gods, if she only knew…

“You must see it,” she looked back at Halbrand.

“All I see is an Elf who won’t put down her sword,” he remarked.

“Come with me to Middle-earth,” she leaned in to be closer to him and you felt an odd sting of pain inside of your heart. Was it jealousy that another woman dared to stand so close to your Mairon…? Most likely. “And together we will redeem both our bloodlines.”

“How?” Halbrand asked, looking at her intensely. “You’re stuck on this island and you’re still short an army,” he smirked.

“That is all about to change,” Galadriel smiled and turned around to walk away.

You glanced at the man one last time before hurrying after her.

“Lady Galadriel!” You called out her name once you were outside the prison.

“My Lady,” she turned around to face you and you nearly bumped into her. “I did not expect to encounter an emissary of the Valar in Númenor, I must admit,” she bowed her head slightly. “How should I address you?”

“Here, in Númenor, you must call me Lady Maneth. In Valinor you would know me as (Y/N),” you introduced yourself and Lady Galadriel’s eyes widened slightly.

“(Y/N)...” She breathed out. “You know more than anyone else how important my task is. We must stop the darkness from spreading,” she pleaded.

“No,” you shook your head. “You must stop pushing this man… Halbrand… Into whatever you are trying to push him into,” you scolded her.

“Do the Valar have different plans for him?” Galadriel wondered out loud.

“It is not about him,” you winced, not wanting to discuss Mairon any longer with her. “It is about you, Artanis. You are beginning to become the very darkness you swore once to destroy,” you warned her.

“What do you mean?” Galadriel furrowed her brow as she took a step back.

“It is still cheating when one betrays a cheater. It is still a theft when one steals from a thief. And it is still a murder when one kills a murderer. Because it is not the matter of whether one deserves it or not – it is a matter of the act itself being committed. Too many pure and good souls were lost to us, driven by the desire to do justice,” you lectured her and you could feel her anger and frustration rising, however she would never dare to lash out on an emissary of the gods.

“Pretty words, that is all you can offer, meanwhile people are dying,” she spat out.

“Do you truly care about them, Artanis, or is their suffering your excuse to pick up the sword once more?” You asked but she was walking away angrily already and all you could see was her back, disappearing in the darkness of the corridor ahead of you.

You turned around once more and sighed at the doors leading back to the prison. You decided to leave Halbrand alone for the night but you worried about what would happen next. If he was about to choose the wrong path again, you would have to reveal his true self to everyone and interfere with his scheme.

Hope was all you had as you fidgeted with the ring around your finger.

“The visions are back and worse than ever,” Míriel confessed to you. “I suspect that it all has something to do with the Elf,” she added as she was trying to read your face but you made sure not to reveal anything.

“I knew that people of Númenor despised her kin but I underestimated the delicacy of the situation,” you admitted as you moved closer to the Queen Regent. “This is beyond worrying. The future of Númenor depends on your relationship with others. It is no time to make enemies instead of friends,” you warned.

“It would be an easier task to convince them that the Elves are not our enemies if only Lady Galadriel was not so…” the Queen Regent sighed, looking for the right word.

“Insufferable?” You chuckled and she nodded with a smile. “Elves differ from humans. They are not raised to be humble.”

“You know a lot about their kin,” Míriel pointed out, trying to make you confess who you truly were once more. She would never ask openly but sometimes she was teasing you this way.

“There are quite a few in the lands I come from,” you only answered.

“The lands you come from… Are they not The Southlands?” Míriel raised her eyebrows. “Like that human man?”

You took a deep breath in. If only you had known back then that your backstory would cause problems a few years later… But it was too late to change it because it would be highly suspicious.

“Yes,” you nodded. “But he is a commoner. I was a noble,” you added.

You were interrupted by Captain Elendil leading Lady Galadriel to you. She bowed her head slightly and exchanged a meaningful look with you.

“Lady Galadriel wishes for an audience,” Captain Elendil said and the Queen Regent nodded her head.

You stood still because these days she wanted you by her side always, no matter what. You did not even have to ask if you should leave or not.

“What is it?” Míriel asked when Galadriel stood on the other side of the table, facing you. She laid out two scrolls of paper in front of you – one was the same she had shown to Halbrand on the previous day and the other one was much more worn out and dirty.

“I found this in the Hall of Lore,” Galadriel informed the Queen Regent mysteriously and you allowed Míriel to see the items with her own eyes as you kept standing there with your hands clasped behind your back.

“You vex me, Elf,” Míriel looked up at Galadriel. “I welcome you as a guest and you gallop off to our countryside to steal ancient scrolls whilst your Southlander companion assaults our citizenry.”

“He is understandably quick to temper. His people are dying,” Galadriel explained.

“His people?” The Queen Regent asked, surprised.

“I believe the man you hold in your dungeons is no common brawler, but the lost heir in exile to the throne of The Southlands,” she revealed.

Míriel turned around to look at you and you raised your eyebrows slightly. You were not sure what to say to that. Should you help Mairon or interfere with his schemes? The answer was only easy for your mind but your heart wished to never cause him any trouble.

“Lady Maneth comes from The Southlands. She would know about that,” the Queen Regent informed Galadriel and the Elf looked at you, intensely.

“I cannot be sure,” you only said. “That there was a long gone line of Kings, I have known. That there are still their living descendants, I have not been aware of. That is not impossible, though,” you explained.

“His people are scattered. Leaderless,” Galadriel looked back at Míriel. “But with your backing they might unite behind his banner. And fight.”

How oblivious she was. His banner was nothing she would want to ever see floating in the air. His banner was nothing she would want to ever see people follow.

“What do you mean backing?” Míriel asked, taken aback by Galadriel’s proposal.

“Sauron was once your people’s enemy, as much as mine,” Galadriel reminded her and you moved uncomfortably. “I call on you to finish the task left undone.”

You might have hated this name more than he hated it. It brought you nothing but pain when others would address your Mairon this way – The Abhorred.

“I shall go,” you spoke, interrupting the tension between the two women. Míriel looked at you with a slight panic in her eyes because she did not want to be left alone with Galadriel but you simply could not stand being there anymore, hearing her talk about your Mairon. “I shall question that man, Halbrand. Mayhaps I will find out if he truly is what the Elf claims,” you said and Míriel nodded at you although you could sense she still felt uneasy to be left without your counsel.

You walked past Captain Elendil and went to the prison area of the palace like on the night before. Halbrand was sitting on the bench this time, with his back leaning on the iron bars. At the sound of your footsteps, he did not even flinch nor turned his head around. He did not have to. He knew it was you coming.

“Mairon…” You crouched down in front of his cell and wrapped your fingers around the bars. “Do not follow her, resist her temptation. Stay here with me.”

Halbrand turned around slowly with a playful smile on his lips as he looked down at you. You were not on your knees but it still seemed as if you were begging him.

“Stay here with you? Are you not a grand Lady on this island?” He asked.

“I can be anything I want and so can you,” you reminded him, your whisper was nearly inaudible but you did not need to speak your words out loud at all for him to hear them anyway. “We can live a lifetime here and then change our forms once more, start all over again. Over and over for the whole eternity. Far away from the rest. If I am to ever abandon my life alongside the gods, it will not be for your darkness… But it could be for this. For us.”

Halbrand stood up and the distance between you became even bigger now as he kept looking down at you with a hint of adoration mixed with pure contempt. He had to think you were pathetic and some part of him found it adorable but the other part found it embarrassing.

“It does not have to be Númenor,” you added. “We can go anywhere.”

“Let us go to The Southlands then,” Halbrand smirked. “Be the Queen alongside me.”

“You have made your decision then, I see,” you sighed and leaned in to press your forehead to the iron bars. “Will you ever love me enough to choose me over power?”

Halbrand did not like your choice of words as his eyes darkened. He crouched down as well, slowly, in a nearly threatening way. Now you were on his eye level as he looked intensely at you.

“Will you ever love me enough to choose me over your gods?” He asked.

The sound of footsteps made you stand up quickly and fix your dress. Halbrand also moved up and sat down on the bench. It was all done right in time because the guards walked inside the prison, dragging Lady Galadriel behind them. You watched with widened eyes as she was being thrown inside one of the cells.

“Don’t tell me,” Halbrand chuckled at her. “Tavern brawl?”

“Sedition,” she answered and Halbrand laughed as you gave her a scolding look.

When you joined Míriel again, she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, staring outside the window. She turned her head around to smile at you gently and then she went back to staring ahead of her.

“And?” She asked.

“He asked for my hand,” you informed her with a playful smirk and the Queen Regent turned her head around once more to look at you with wide eyes.

“The audacity…” She sighed.

“Why?” You asked her with a soft smile.

“For a commoner to propose such a thing to a Lady like you… Even if it was only to jest–”

“It was not to jest, “you interrupted her. “If he is what Galadriel claims, then he would be my King,” you pointed out and an odd feeling filled your whole body when you called Mairon your King. A malicious one but also honey-like warm; sweetly spreading throughout your body.

“You are above human Kings, are you not, Lady Maneth?” Míriel raised an eyebrow at you. It was the very first time she asked such a thing so openly.

“I cannot answer that, my friend,” you smiled at her mysteriously, “but if he chooses to follow the path Lady Galadriel pushes him onto, I might have to follow him.”

“And abandon Númenor?” The Queen Regent asked. “Abandon me?”

“I am sorry,” you sighed. “Following him might be a task much more important than watching over this island,” you revealed to her.

Even though you were not given direct orders from the gods, it was obvious that watching over Mairon was more important because keeping his schemes under control would only profit in the end for everyone, including the people of Númenor. Míriel could not be told all the details, therefore she would never understand and she would feel abandoned by you. It was the price you had to pay.

It was an excuse, of course. Choosing to follow Mairon to Middle-earth to make sure he would not go back to his evil ways and that he would use the position Galadriel was giving him to do good instead… It was nothing but a noble excuse to simply explain the fact you wanted to follow him.

It was different now, though. It was not one of those times when he had begged you to come with him, straight to Morgoth. No, this time there was a string of hope that he would truly redeem himself. And of course he would have a bigger chance to do so with you by his side.

“It seems so important… Everything happening in Middle-earth. More important than I suspected. But if even you are willing to leave my side to go back there, it means there are things happening there that are much bigger than me,” Míriel said. “I must rethink Lady Galadriel’s words now then,” she informed you and walked past you to walk away. “Just like you must rethink Halbrand’s proposal.”

“Yes, I must,” you nodded at her and looked outside the window yourself. The sun was slowly setting and the view was beautiful – you wished it would forever be like this; so peaceful and calm with pink and orange hues.

Like back in the day when you had been sitting in the flower fields with Mairon, staring at the skies, your bodies filled with no malice – only pure yearning for one another.

The orange skies of the evening sky always reminded you of his ginger hair from back then and how you would brush it with your fingers, staring in awe at how the sunlight seemed to sparkle upon it.

You were standing by the guards’ side as you watched them open Halbrand’s cell. They nodded at him and he nodded back. The guards left you with him alone and an awkward silence occurred between you two.

“There, you have it your way,” you finally said, quietly.

“You must have missed me terribly,” he crossed his arms and chuckled but you did not want to laugh.

Your eyes filled with tears immediately at the mention of all those centuries you had spent thinking he was gone forever. You lifted your wet, glistening eyes to lay them on his and he clenched his jaw as he moved slightly while all playfulness left his expression.

“Do you know why I could not be killed?” Halbrand approached you to cup your chin and you shook your head. “Because of the part of me still living inside of you. As long as you are alive, I cannot be slain,” he explained. “However, the part of you that lives within me had to suffer for all those centuries alongside me and there is not a day passing when I do not regret causing you such pain.”

“Oh, Mairon…” You gasped and threw your arms around his neck to pull him closer and hug him.

However, he had something else on his mind. He blinked slowly a few times and cupped your cheeks now with his rough hands as he leaned in to join your lips together.

For the first time in your immortal life, you finally found out how sweet his lips were. And gods, how good they felt… How right. Your souls intertwined at that moment, every missing piece finding its place as if you were forged into one body.

“Before we were created, we had been a piece of stardust in the abyss and we had been one flesh then, of that I am sure,” Mairon whispered after breaking the kiss. “I should have kissed you much earlier, my love, for I have never felt so whole before.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I am glad you are kissing me only now,” you added and he raised an eyebrow at you. “For if you had kissed me like that back in the day, I would have followed you into corruption straight away. I would have worn black armour forged out of iron and I would have become Morgoth’s most zealous Lieutenant by your side – only to feel your lips on mine again,” you confessed.

Just when you finished voicing out your blasphemous feelings, Halbrand’s lips kissed you once more. This time he lowered his hands to intertwine your fingers with his. You felt him smirking when he felt the ring on your finger brushing his skin.

“Let us get married. Straight away,” he breathed out. “You are wearing my ring already. You have worn it for all eternity.”

“It would be only fair if you wore something from me as well. Something to mark you as my own like I am yours,” you pointed out.

“What would it be, my sweet?” Mairon caressed your cheek and you smirked at him a little before you reached out to the back of your neck.

You had prepared your gift for him this very morning when you already knew he would be released. There was a pendant around your neck, hidden under your dress. You took it off now and handed it to him as he slightly moved away at the sight of it.

It was a beautiful pendant surely although you made sure it would not look too feminine, so he would wear it at all times. However, what it contained inside was what truly intimidated him – it was a small portion of your light that you had sacrificed to lock in there. Wearing it could save his soul, of that you were sure. But in his eyes it surely was a form of imprisonment.

“Have you not sacrificed enough of your light for me already?” Mairon asked.

“Never enough. I shall sacrifice as much of it as I can to save you, my love,” you insisted and pushed the necklace into his open hand as you closed it around the pendant.

Mairon forced a smile as he swallowed thickly and opened his hand again to stare at the necklace before slowly putting it around his neck and hiding it under his tunic.

“Thank you,” he whispered in Quenya and you smiled back at him, encouragingly.

It had been ages since you last wore armour. Lately, the Valar had been using you more as a politician than a warrior but you still remembered the wars you had taken part of. Back then you had been on the opposite side of the field from Mairon but now you were by his side, riding your horse next to his as people of Númenor were throwing flowers at you. 

You took a deep breath in when it was time for you to jump off of your mare. What you were about to do would be equal to making a final decision about your fate – leaving Númenor meant forsaking the task that had been given to you by the Valar. However, you wanted to believe that they would value your new task even more; the one you had given to yourself. To watch over Mairon and make sure no one would know him as Sauron ever again.

He helped you to get on the ship and when you held his hand tight and he grinned at you, your heart filled with love and warmth. There was, however, a hint of worry because you knew what a skilled deceiver he could be. 

To become the King and Queen of The Southlands and to erase the darkness from that long-forsaken land was your shared goal now. Or so he had been promising you. To unite the tribes of that realm and to make sure they had a bright future. And once your mortal forms would become old enough, you would abandon or transform them to start a new life somewhere else. To heal more and more lands, more kins. 

You wanted to believe the healing would be done in the right and proper way this time because now he had you by his side.

Your new husband and an old companion smirked at you and squeezed your cheek playfully before turning around to join Captain Elendil to speak to him as the ships sailed out of the harbour. Lady Galadriel stood next to you instead and she glanced at you from the corner of her eye.

“I know it is not my right to ask about the ways of the Valar and the Maiar but why would a spirit like you marry a human and abandon the task originally given to her?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“The road goes ever winding,” you answered her. “Not even the Valar or the Maiar can see all its paths.”

“Your devotion to this cause makes me believe I was right to fight so eagerly for this to happen,” she said and you smiled to yourself. She was so desperate.

“You are right, Artanis. It is not your right to know about the ways of my kind,” you patted her shoulder and gave her a faint smile as she nodded, staring into the horizon.

You looked there, too, but your mind was absent. You were scared and unsure – some part of you nearly wanted to be as blind as Lady Galadriel because she seemed to be so certain and fearless.

You turned around and realised that he was looking at you already. And at that moment, he looked like the Maia he had been created as – so pure with that wide smile and the sun shining behind him, creating a halo around his form. He looked handsome as ever in Númenorian armour, so different from the one he had been wearing as Morgoth’s Lieutenant. 

You gave him a wide smile back, so full of love and devotion. Perhaps his star would begin to shine in the night sky once more.

MASTERLIST

[velvet4510]

Tolkien’s subtle connections between LOTR and The Silmarillion are just glorious to discover. Like the reason Gollum hates sunlight and moonlight is the same reason the Nazgûl get scared off when Frodo calls out to Varda! Sauron - and thus his servants and his Ring that has completely corrupted Gollum’s soul - shares the absolute darkness of Melkor, who always hated and feared Varda because she is absolute light and thereby she created the Sun and Moon in defiance of that darkness… and she created them out of the last remaining light of the Two Trees which Melkor destroyed, so every time a piece of Melkor’s darkness comes into contact with the light of the Sun and Moon, it is reminded that Melkor did not destroy that light completely, that it lives on. Gollum can feel Varda’s creations forever clashing with what is indirectly Melkor’s creation.

[sillylotrpolls]

(Context below poll)

Tolkien is very specific about what happens to some of his fantastical species after they die, but not all.

Naturally, he goes into the most detail about the elves, and elven post-death circumstances are a pretty big plot point in the Silmarillion.

Paraphrasing from Tolkein Gateway:

Death was unnatural for Elves; Ilúvatar [omnipotent god] intended for an Elf's spirit and body to remain united forever, but this design was disrupted by evils of Melkor [Sauron's boss]. Should an Elf die, its spirit would be summoned to the Halls of Mandos [god of dead]. Elves could refuse the summons, but this would suggest that they were tainted. Elves who went to the Halls were typically given the opportunity to be reincarnated after a while into a body identical to the one that died (unless the elf was very bad). An elven spirit could also choose to remain disembodied.

By the time of the Third Age (when Lord of the Rings takes place), elves could only reincarnate in Valinor (where Frodo sails off to at the end of RotK) and could not return to Middle-earth after doing so.

Dwarves also have a cool afterlife, as expanded on in the famous fanwork Sansûkh. Paraphrased from Tolkien Gateway:

The Dwarves held to a promise that Ilúvatar [omnipotent god] would hallow them and adopt them as his Children. After death Aulë [smithing god who made the dwarves] cared for them, gathering them to the Halls of Mandos with the other Children of Ilúvatar, though in halls set apart. After the Last Battle they will work alongside Aulë in the remaking of the world.

Men, on the other hand, were given the "Gift of Men." Again paraphrasing Tolkien Gateway:

After Men died, their spirits were gathered in the Halls of Mandos, and then departed for a destination unknown even to the gods. Whereas all other beings, including the gods themselves, were bound to the world and its fate, the Gift freed Men from this destiny, allowing them to shape their own lives as they wished.

Most Men, for some reason (the elves blamed Morgoth), did not see this as a very good gift.

So where does this leave hobbits? Tolkien's books don't say, though he did write a letter one time saying that hobbits are basically just short Men. However, it is also the case that he shoehorned in The Hobbit to fit with his Silmarillion world (thus giving us the Lord of the Rings trilogy), so if you want to disregard this bit of ephemera you are completely within your rights to do so.

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Of Sauron's Lust on Season 3

Now Sauron's lust and pride increased, until he knew no bounds, and he determined to make himself master of all things in Middle-earth, and to destroy the Elves, and to compass if he might, the downfall of Númenor. He brooked no freedom nor any rivalry, and he named himself Lord of the Earth. A mask he still could wear so that if he wished he might deceive the eyes of Men, seeming to them wise and fair. But he ruled rather by force and fear, if they might avail; and those who perceived his shadow spreading over the world called him the Dark Lord and named him the Enemy; and he gathered under his government all the evil things of the days of Morgoth that remained on earth or beneath it; and the Orcs were at his command and multiplied like flies. The Silmarillion

Oh boy, Sauron's lust will increase and know no bounds in Season 3; this is a description of the "War of the Elves and Sauron" from Tolkien.

What kind of mind palace shenanigans will happen in Season 3!? Now that Sauron has a open line of communication via bound, and has already “bore a hole” to “slither in”to Galadriel.

Let’s see another example of when “evil lusts” in Tolkien lore: 

Then Morgoth looking upon her beauty [Lúthien] conceived in his thought an evil lust, and a design more dark than any that had yet come into his heart since he fled from Valinor. Thus he was beguiled by his own malice, for he watched her, leaving her free for a while, and taking secret pleasure in his thought. The Silmarillion [Lúthien dances for Morgoth on his Dark Throne, before she puts him and all the host of Angband to sleep with her magic singing]

Tolkien comes back to this "evil lust" Morgoth felt for Lúthien on several works:

…Yet I will give a respite brief, a while to live, a little while, though purchased dear, to Lúthien the fair and clear, a pretty toy for idle hour. In slothful garden many a flower like thee the amorous gods are used honey-sweet to kiss, and cast then bruised, their fragrance loosing, under feet. … A! curse the Gods! O hunger dire,O blinding thirst’s unending fire! One moment shall ye cease, and slake your sting with morsel I here take! In his eyes the fire to flame was fanned,and forth he stretched his brazen hand.Lúthien as shadow shrank aside. ‘Not thus, O King! Not thus!’ she cried. … …And her wings she caught then deftly up, and swift as thought slipped from his grasp, and wheeling round, fluttering before his eyes, she wound a mazy-wingéd dance… The Lay of Leithian, The Lost Road and Other Writings

"Nay," saith Melkor, "such things are little to my mind; but as thou hast come thus far to dance, dance, and after we will see," and with that he leered horribly, for his dark mind pondered some evil.  Book of Lost Tales vol.2

Then Morgoth laughed, but he was moved with suspicion, and said that her accursed race would get no soft words or favour in Angband. What could she do to give him pleasure, and save herself from the lowest dungeons? He reached out his mighty brazen hand but she shrank away. He is angry but she offers to dance. Commentary to the Lay of Leithian (The Lays of Beleriand)

Celeborn was his name. We met in a glade of flowers. I was dancing and he saw me there. Rings of Power, "The Eye", 1x07

Wait, what? I’m not implying Sauron will impersonate Celeborn, mind you. Only that there is already a reference to Galadriel dancing in “Rings of Power”.

Celebrimbor’s father (who was the most evil among all sons of Fëanor) also lust after Lúthien (like Celebrimbor himself after Galadriel in Tolkien lore):

...why Curufin looked with hot desire on Lúthien [...] thereafter never near might win to Lúthien, nor touch that maid" Lay of Leithian

Apparently, Charlie is right. Sauron might ravish Galadriel, yet. Her mind, of course.

Dead dove enjoyers: come to collect your ship.

[silmarillisms]

Orcs in Rings of Power

There are no fewer than eight different origin stories for the Uruk in Middle-Earth from the collected writings of Tolkien in stories, letters, and published works. In his various writings, we are told all of the following at one point or another:

Orcs were created out of stone.

Orcs were made of heat and slime.

Orcs were talking beasts.

Orcs were made by Melkor dispersing his power.

Orcs were children of the earth, a race of their own taken by Melkor and twisted, corrupted over time.

Orcs were fallen Maiar.

Orcs were bred from corrupted Men.

Orcs were bred from fallen and corrupted Elves.

Today, we will discuss that final explanation.

Tolkien originally writes in the "Annals of Aman":

"But indeed a darker tale some yet tell in Eressëa, saying that the Orcs were verily in their beginning of the Quendi themselves, a kindred of the Avari unhappy whom Morgoth cozened, and then made captive, and so enslaved them, and so brought them utterly to ruin. For, saith Pengolod, Melkor could never since the Ainulindalë' make of his own aught that had life or the semblance of life, and still less might he do so after his treachery in Valinor and the fullness of his own corruption. But indeed a darker tale some yet tell in Eressëa, saying that the Orcs were verily in their beginning of the Quendi themselves, a kindred of the Avari unhappy whom Morgoth cozened, and then made captive, and so enslaved them, and so brought them utterly to ruin. For, saith Pengolod, Melkor could never since the Ainulindalë' make of his own aught that had life or the semblance of life, and still less might he do so after his treachery in Valinor and the fullness of his own corruption."

Out of all of the available explanations, Christopher Tolkien chose the one given above when he was transcribing his father's work into what would become the published Silmarillion.

In the Silmarillion, Christopher writes:

"Yet this is held true by the wise of Eressëa, that all those of the Quendi who came into the hands of Melkor, ere Utumno was broken, were put there in prison, and by slow arts of cruelty were corrupted and enslaved; and thus did Melkor breed the hideous race of the Orcs in envy and mockery of the Elves, of whom they were afterwards the bitterest foes.

We will set aside for now the fact that Tolkien, after finishing the Annals, scribbled a note to himself stating "Alter this. Orcs are not Elvish." There are also notes in Volume X of The History of Middle-Earth regarding whether or not Melkor could utterly corrupt the work of Eru. Tolkien seems to struggle with himself in those paragraphs regarding the answer.

At some point, an explanation must be chosen and the above explanation is the one that was selected by both Christopher Tolkien for the Silmarillion and the writers for The Rings of Power.

So, let's move forward with some other things we know about the various subtypes of Orcs from the published texts. We do get some interesting snippets of them in the published Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Some people seem to think that orcs are mindless slaves, wholly tied to the will of Sauron and the other forces that have historically enslaved them and that the depiction of them in Rings of Power as willful and conniving, with families and social units of their own, is counter to Tolkien's written canon.

I would argue that nothing could be further from the truth. If anything, the portrayal of Orcs in Rings of Power is far closer to both JRR and Christopher Tolkien's interpretation of canon than any of the Peter Jackson movies. Let's look at some of what we're given by the text:

"For the Orcs had life and multiplied after the manner of the Children of Ilúvatar; and naught that had life of its own, nor the semblance of life, could ever Melkor make since his rebellion in the Ainulindalë before the Beginning: so say the wise. And deep in their dark hearts the Orcs loathed the Master whom they served in fear, the maker only of their misery. This it may be was the vilest deed of Melkor, and the most hateful to Ilúvatar. The Silmarillion, Illustrated by Ted Nasmith Edition, pg. 65

There are a couple key takeaways from this passage:

Orcs breed with themselves to multiply, like Elves and Men.

Orcs might have reveled in their evil deeds, but they also loathed Melkor, who had created them only to serve as slaves.

This, then, begins to make sense of the choices made by the writers of The Rings of Power regarding the orcs already. If they were originally bred of corrupted Quendi, it makes sense that they see Adar, one of the original corrupted Quendi from whom their race would have sprung, as their true Father.

If the Orcs loathed being enslaved by Melkor, who they were terrified of, of course they would initially take a great deal of umbridge with being re-enslaved by Sauron, for whom they had no respect.

We are told directly in "The Nature of Middle-Earth" that when Sauron first attempted to bring the Orcs of the east beneath his command, who had scattered long ago, that they laughed at him and rejected him until he left his fair form and cowed them forcibly into submission.

So then the scene where the Orcs choose to follow Adar instead of Sauron begins to make a great deal of sense as well.

Regarding Orc family units and social structures, we receive the following directly from Tolkien in a letter written to Mrs. Mundy:

"There must have been orc-women."

Again, if Orcs reproduce in the manner of Men and Elves, that is the only thing that makes any sort of sense. It's not like they produce by budding, in the interpretation of canon that both Christopher Tolkien and The Rings of Power are going with. Notably, Peter Jackson seems to eschew this as close to canon as we can get because it follows the published Silmarillion explanation in The Two Towers, where Orcs emerge fully formed from what appear to be slime sacs in the ground.

While reading the published Lord of the Rings trilogy, we can also be certain of the following:

Orcs feel fear. They specifically fear the Nazgul.

Orcs become tired and grouchy on long marches.

War is not the ideal state of the Orcs, just as it is not the ideal state of any of the "more civilized" races.

Orcs are capable of friendship and even have good memories with their friends.

Consider this excerpt from The Two Towers:

‘No, I don’t know,’ said Gorbag’s voice. ‘The messages go through quicker than anything could fly, as a rule. But I don’t enquire how it’s done. Safest not to. Grr! Those Nazgul give me the creeps. And they skin the body off you as soon as look at you, and leave you all cold in the dark on the other side. But He likes ’em; they’re His favourites nowadays, so it’s no use grumbling. I tell you, it’s no game serving down in the city.’ ‘You should try being up here with Shelob for company,’ said Shagrat. ‘I’d like to try somewhere where there’s none of ’em. But the war’s on now, and when that’s over things may be easier.’ ‘It’s going well, they say.’ ‘They would,’ grunted Gorbag. ‘We’ll see. But anyway, if it does go well, there should be a lot more room. What d’you say? – if we get a chance, you and me’ll slip off and set up somewhere on our own with a few trusty lads, somewhere where there’s good loot nice and handy, and no big bosses.’ ‘Ah!’ said Shagrat. ‘Like old times.’ ‘Yes,’ said Gorbag. ‘But don’t count on it. I’m not easy in my mind. As I said, the Big Bosses, ay,’ his voice sank almost to a whisper, ‘ay, even the Biggest, can make mistakes. Something nearly slipped, you say. I say, something has slipped. And we’ve got to look out. Always the poor Uruks to put slips right, and small thanks. But don’t forget: the enemies don’t love us any more than they love Him, and if they get topsides on Him, we’re done too. But see here: when were you ordered out?’ The Two Towers, pg. 444

It seems obvious to me, just in this paragraph penned by JRR himself, that Orcs were not intended to be entirely mindless rabble. Shagrat and Gorbag reminisce about better times when they weren't bound to the will of Sauron or Saruman. They talk about running away, going somewhere quieter and (perhaps) more peaceful (aside from the aforementioned looting) after the war.

They mention that they're afraid. They mention that Elves and Men hate them as much as they hate Sauron and how difficult that will make doing anything of their own accord.

All this to say, the interpretation of Orcs in Rings of Power is absolutely lore-appropriate. I think Glug's point of view will be fascinating. The scene with the female and baby orc are much closer to the version of Orcs laid out by the Silmarillion and the trilogy than PJ's orc sacs in his movie trilogy - which doesn't make his film trilogy bad, it's just using one of the alternative explanations for orc reproduction despite Saruman asserting that orcs were once Elves, which seems... odd, but alright.

The Rings of Power isn't being revisionist. It isn't whitewashing Orcs or going beyond canon to make them seem more relatable or more sympathetic. It's following the Silmarillion in some regards with pretty astounding accuracy.

[lime-bucket]

its lowkey fascinating to me how despite melkor embodying the most basic of fantasy villains archetypes (dark lord whos evil fr evil sake) he never comes off as boring or stagnant in such a complex story like the Silm.

The first thing we see of melkor is how utterly powerfull he in terms of cunning & strength & yet he gets weakened, but not to a degree it feels the vala was nerfed fr narrative convinience,& throughout the book melkor is aware of his deminishing powers as he keeps creating ways to work around it in order to spread destruction & bloodshed

And things r kept interesting as with almost each L the legions of morgoth take,next chapter they lock in & secure a terrible victory against howvr angband sets its terrible eyes on.not only its brilliant to keep readers engaged but also it feels the story remind us even when melkor faces multi humilating defeats,he is not a joke & theres a reason he is feared & loathed.

Hell even at the end where melkors loses in the most typical villain way of being too pridefull the story doesnt go and everyone lived happily ever after! instead it solemnly acknowledge that even if he lost,melkor had prevailed for hatred & pain were sowed in middle earth staying fr ages to come (not to mention the loyal disciple sauron gonna continue his master work).thus his goals were all along accomplished.

melkor might not be 3 dimensional in the sense most modern fictional antagonists r,but it doesnt make him less of a well thought out villain cuz tolkien understood what makes the nature of evil a terrible blight on the world is its continuous changing

[edensrose]

Well yes. That's the whole part of his character. He's not allowed to say anything and I'm tired of people acting like he can<3 a little cognitive reading tells you that he can't.

Stern and dispassionate, never forgetting a thing. Speaks the Prophecy of the North against the Noldor Elves leaving Aman, counselling that they should not be allowed to return.[b] The prophecies and judgments of Mandos, unlike Morgoth, are not cruel or vindictive by his own design. They are simply the will of Eru, and he does not speak them unless he is commanded to do so by Manwë.

[liveinfarbe]

Adar and Galadriel reminiscing about their Beleriand days…

These are clips from episode 4 and 7 of season 1. Notice the knife/dagger-parallel.

I've been researching the Silmarillion a little bit, because I think it gives hints about time and place in Adar's flashback account. This got lengthy. I write about the questionable Moriondor assumption by Galadriel and the esteem for flowers, blossoms, willows, glades in the lives of Galadriel and Celeborn, in Beleriand and beyond, and a possible path for hope, forgiveness and growth after trauma, that would lie in a dark Celeborn meets dark Galadriel story: Adar informs Arondir that he's been young in Beleriand once and used to walk down the banks of the Sirion river for miles and miles. He noticed sage blossoms, apparently liked the view, because it left a lasting impression. What I get from this (given the cosmology of that world is actual history and not just mythical) is that it must've happened after the sun and the moon appeared and pulled Middle-Earth out of its darkness, or else there wouldn’t be miles of sage blossoming. It thrives in full sunlight. This puts the account at the end of the First Age, after the Years of the Trees. Interestingly, this is after the "creation" of the Orcs by Morgoth.

Whatever bond and similarity Adar has with the Uruks, he’s apparently not one of those Moriondor that Galadriel talked about to him. I assume the Moriondor concept reflects Tolkien’s idea (he had several) that elves were captured by Morgoth after their awakening in Cuiviénen under the starlight and before Oromë found them and then got corrupted and twisted and thus became the first Uruks. While Adar shares certain physical traits with them, he can’t be one of those first Uruks, because 1.) he lived far in the West, in Beleriand, 2.) the sun had risen, 3.) he’s lived among elves that spoke Sindarin and Quenya, since he speaks it too and not some Avari language, though he could've learned all that in Angband during idle hours, I don't know, he learned black speech too. Anyway, the first mentions of Orcs roaming Beleriand is in Y.T. (Years of the Trees) 1330, but Melkor (at this point in time he's not yet given the name Morgoth by Fëanor) is incarcerated in Valinor. Sauron is in Beleriand though, hiding out in Angband, waiting for Melkor's return, "breeding" Orcs apparently, because their numbers grow and they "roam" Beleriand. This is 200 Valian years before the sun. I'm no loremaster, but I know this is a long time. At this point and later, Adar is still, as he describes himself, young. So Orcs were breathing living creatures before that elf-man became Adar. "Young" I see as meaning before he got captured and tortured and then brainwashed by Sauron as part of the “13 of us” (ep. 2x2).

So something doesn't add up, and Adar implies that in his interaction with Arondir in ep. 1x4. Are the tales of Moriondor a widely spread myth created by Elves, since all accounts about Orcs mostly stem from Elvish chroniclers? Maybe this is what Adar hints at. He says to Arondir

“You have been told many lies. Some run so deep even the rocks and roots believe them. To untangle it all would all but require the creation of a new world.”

He thinks only gods can do that, and he ain’t one…yet. Unlike Morgoth who raised mountains, or other Valar whose wrath sank a whole landmass like Beleriand, and later Númenor. He's just doing what he must, realizing Morgoth's terraforming plan and resettling the Uruks so they can live freely.

The "many lies" that he mentions are reflected in the things that Galadriel - who’s famous as "the scourge of the Orcs", even in Númenor - says to him when she interrogates him in episode 1x6. She’s full of hate and delivers a truly genocidal speech to him that shocks herself in the aftermath. (She acknowledges that somewhat self-critically to Theo in ep. 1x7, and it might be one of the reasons she rejects Sauron's offer later)

The truth about Adar's origin story isn't yet revealed. I think it will be, because the writers put some effort in it, dropped cues and hints in excellent dialogue and made him a multilayered character. Finally, let’s come back to the flowers and blossom mentions in the clips above because they could very nicely tie back to Galadriel and Celeborn in Beleriand and beyond. Adar says he “went down that river once”. Let’s see, if he, for example, came from Doriath and went down the Sirion towards its mouth and saw a lush amount of flowers blossom, he could have come through a region called Nan-Tathren or Tarsarinan that is literally called Valley of the willows. Possibly the home to Galadriel’s “glades of flowers” she danced in.

Why would she dance there and not in Doriath? I don't know, but there's a clear hint that she was in that region and even made meaningful personal connections there. With Ents. And Celeborn, too. Tarsarinan, Valley of the willows, means something to the couple and Treebard, as mentioned in a passage in The Lord of the Rings. The memories of Celeborn, Galadriel and Treebard of that place are intimately entangled.

Then Treebeard said farewell to each of them in turn, and he bowed three times slowly and with great reverence to Celeborn and Galadriel. ‘It is long, long since we met by stock or by stone, A vanimar, vanimálion nostari!’ he said. 'It is sad that we should meet only thus at the ending. For the world is changing: I feel it in the water, I feel it in the earth, and I smell it in the air. I do not think we shall meet again.' And Celeborn said: 'I do not know, Eldest.' But Galadriel said: 'Not in Middle-earth, nor until the lands that lie under the wave are lifted up again. Then in the willow-meads of Tasarinan we may meet in the Spring. Farewell!

“Many Partings” - The Return Of The King - LOTR - J.R.R. Tolkien

Okay… 1.) Treebard's “It is long, long since we met by stock or by stone” sounds a lot like Adar’s words to Arondir "even the rocks and the roots believe them", 2.) A vanimar, vanimálion nostari! is translated as "Oh, beautiful ones, parents of beautiful children"

That last point reminds of Adar's relationship to the Uruks and the rhetoric surrounding it: Adar whose name translates as "father" calls the Uruks "my children", "my sons and daughters", main difference is that they’re not that beautiful, neither is he — but that lies in the eye of the beholder. Does Adar imply the propaganda about Uruks is so pervading that even the eldest Ents believe them? Possibly his old friend Treebard… ?

I mean he's certainly wreaked havoc in the woods, forced the felling of trees, displaying not much respect for the Ents. On the other hand, Adar is shown planting Alfirin seeds, that grow into flowers. He's still very Elvish, full of respect and longing for "new life, in defiance of death".

Finally… Lothlórien, Galadriel and Celeborn's later safe space, is literally meaning "Lórien of the Blossom". Treebard calls it "Dreamflower".

With all that cherishing of flowers - I think even his chain mail shirt displays flowery ornaments - could Adar be Celeborn in a rather depressing and long-lasting dark phase of his life in ROP? Explaining where he’s been all that time since she last mocked him as a “silver clam”? And if he is not, wouldn’t that be a really good story if he was? Adar doing the work could be an arc about hope and the possibility of healing and changing — it’s what Galadriel needs, too, in the long run.

At this point she’s confused and hurting after the betrayal by Sauron, because she liked him more than anyone in ages, but also because she had to witness herself being unreliable and, frankly, unwise. Yes, she’s vindicated for having always been right about Sauron, but the way she went about it fills her with shame, it’s gnawing at her, not primarily because of wounded pride, I believe, but out of compassion for the victims of her actions. Not unlike Míriel after her return to Númenor. It begs the question to them both if it was all needless, if there really is a greater good in what's unfolding now? At this point in the narrative, the Númenorian intervention that Galadriel pressed for must feel like a Pyrrhic victory with grave consequences and implications for the future of Middle-Earth as well as Númenor. It has caused immense trouble and pain already to many other people that Galadriel gave Sauron a clap on the back and an army. She still has to fully confront herself about that, she's still vulnerable to the darkness inside her, because she's hurting. She has Elrond to help and guard her, but other than that, who's there for her? I mean, in the end she has to accept that it's not her who can slay Sauron, she needs to come to that understanding. It's a battle within herself she hasn't yet had the courage to take up because she still can't face her lingering grief at this point in any other way than turning it into anger.

[dalliansss]

Hi! It’s me again 😜

Or I was thinking maybe some Angbang?? “ can't you see they're taking advantage of you?”

PROMPTS FOR THE GRUMPY VS SUNSHINE TROPE

Mairon isn't sure exactly how the matter was brought up-- or perhaps he was. He met with his recent attraction by the outskirts of Almaren; Thu -- a maia of Namo who didn't behave like many maiar do, just unquestioning obedience and endless praises for their Valar overlords. Thu left his workstation whenever he pleased (or how Mairon understands it; they might have a different system in Mandos), went about discussing some details about his Valar, and sometimes even voiced opinions that weren't decidedly friendly or courteous. This spark of defiance (and maybe rebellion) was one of the things that attracted him to Thu in the first place, and as they continued to meet, it drew Mairon in deeper each time.

The conversation somehow diverted into part of the work system he has in place for Aule's forges. Mairon had been telling his friend somehow that while the system ensured full productivity and efficiency, it left the higher ranking maiar with little to no vacant periods.

"Can't you see they're taking advantage of you?" Thu says, cutting him off a bit.

Mairon pauses at the hint of vehemence in Thu's voice. He looks to the maia of Namo (and again, silently admires Thu's dark hair and purple eyes and the hint of strength and power he sees just lurking in those eyes). "What do you mean?"

"I mean it for most 'workers', Aule is a worker, of course -- the smith of Arda, but then, must you work on any damn thing all the damn time? Your folk, his maiar, venture rarely out of your forges and caverns and mines, and so you yourselves little appreciate the entirety of Arda, the Notes put into the Music of its Firmament. I see it as taking advantage of you all. Probably keeping you all in line so nobody gets any strange ideas."

It is instinct in Mairon to defend his Vala, but as he processes Thu's words, it does make sense. And, the entire implication of Thu's insinuations does appeal to him.

"What do you mean strange ideas?" Mairon asks cautiously, remembering Melkor the Great before his fall.

"I don't know, asking for paid leaves, probably," Thu says.

"What is a paid leave?"

"You're allowed to wander around Arda and explore and learn while still...getting your...I don't know, regular share of the ores you eat, I suppose." Thu gestures as he speaks, as if he's waving away a pesky fly.

Mairon lapses into quiet. He turns to the puzzle box in his hand. But it does make sense. He, Mairon, helped sing and shape Arda to existence, but even now he has not really...seen it. Or seen it all. Perhaps Thu is right. Maybe he needs to speak to Aule about this. Some designated time where the maiar under his lead can venture out of their lord's halls and not on an errand for him, but just to....be. As Thu says.

Maybe.

[mai-komagata]

sauron's corruption

i feel there is some sort of misconception that morgoth like, had sauron in a dungeon until he became evil, sorta like he did to elves and other creatures. that abuse made him evil somehow.

this is categorically not canon -- even to RoP. look, im not saying two evil people working for each other for Millenia never did bad shit to each other. selfish people can hurt even those they are close to, so it isn't unlikely - although never stated. we can debate wholesome vs toxic angbang dynamics separately, it's not relevant.

but like, sauron wasn't tortured into spying on aüle and betraying the valar in Almaren. He admired Melkor for being more powerful and more efficient and joined and spied on them on his behalf. "for even then he had secret friends and spies among the Maiar whom he had converted to his cause, and of these the chief, as after became known, was Sauron, a great craftsman of the household of Aule." "While Morgoth still stood, Sauron did not seek his own supremacy, but worked and schemed for another, desiring the triumph of Melkor, whom in the beginning he had adored. He thus was often able to achieve things, first conceived by Melkor, which his master did not or could not complete in the furious haste of his malice."

and he had a part in all the evil things melkor did from that point onward. he wasn't some unwilling participant. his only redeeming characteristic according to Tolkien was his capacity to be servile (which tolkien said he lost by the Second Age -- the temple of Melkor was not built b/c Sauron felt the need to pay worship, but because he thought that was a good tool to destroy Numenor).

dunno... i do like sauron redemption headcanons for the end of the world, but anything that implies that he blames morgoth or curses him for who he is as if he has some claim on extracting revenge on morgoth rings empty to me. He's never expressed this sentiment.

Sauron didn't become evil because he was punished into being evil. morgoth isn't to blame, only insofar as he was there for them to be evil together. he isn't among those who needs to extract revenge from morgoth to achieve justice. also -- even when he had good intentions* he reverted to evil again in the second age, and this was AFTER morgoth was in the void. he doesn't need morgoth around to do evil. *which is questionable: "So - as soon as [Melkor] has mentally rejected repentance - he (just like Sauron afterwards on this model) makes a mockery of self-abasement and repentance."

the most compelling dagor dagorath headcanons to me is for them *both* to be restored, because what is the difference, at that point? are we gonna argue 99% evil can be reformed but 99.9% should not be? (also arguably sauron was evil for a lot longer than morgoth, even if he was slightly less evil for being his servant and a much less powerful being...) The real issue is what is the nature of Sauron's destruction, can be be remade? Melkor was never destroyed, his presence is suffused throughout Arda. In some sense, you need to "fix" this discrepancy to heal Arda. Anyway, i end with this quote which I can't quite decipher but echoes my thoughts above:

"[Arda Healed --] Arda without Melkor, or rather without the effects of his becoming evil; but is the source from which all ideas of order and perfection are derived. 'Arda Healed' is thus both the completion of the 'Tale of Arda' which has taken up all the deeds of Melkor, but must according to the promise of Iluvatar be seen to be good; and also a state of redress and bliss beyond the 'circles of the world'.)" dunno even fake theology is hard.

All quotes from Morgoth's ring.

[outofangband]

Posted about it briefly here and in a few other posts on the description of the Darkening from Morgoth’s Ring, but the shadow of Morgoth over Finwë is something I find so compelling and horrifying.

Morgoth to the early elves is this darkness manifested, this nameless monster called a dozen things in the dawn of the Quendi language, when the anguish he caused, stealing elves in the shadows, the fear wrought by the uncanny creatures that stalked them, barely had words to describe it.

Morgoth appearing to the elves as the dark rider, cementing himself in their collective memory and nightmares to the point where they do not trust Oromë when he comes to them is such a cruel detail I think

But some do eventually trust Oromë and through the Valar, Morgoth is given a name, an explanation and an identity. He is not a sole power but part of a system. There is relief, even religion for some, in this.

The physical power he wields over them does not change but he is no longer a faceless evil in the shadows and thus lessens the power, the reach of his fear. And also through the Valar comes the offer of protection. Perhaps it is because of their kinship to the monster that haunted the elves that some refused or fled the offer.

Finwë is not among those. He accepts and his people come to Valinor and then Morgoth comes to Valinor in chains. He has a distinct physical form, one that can be bound and confined. And bound and confined he is

And so the nightmare of Morgoth is relegated to the nightmares of sleep, to dark murals and whispered tales. The grim memories remain

Even upon his release, even though there was whispers of resentment, betrayal, fear and fury at the decision of the Valar to unleash the monster that had overshadowed them…Morgoth is no longer the nightmare, the dark rider. He still has a distinct form, and when his influence spreads beyond limbs and the boundaries of his robes, they can be written off as the influence of nightmares, of change and uncertainty. Melkor walks beneath the same light as they do, closely watched by powers believed to match or beat his own.

Things do change when that influence is shown to have been the deliberate work of Melkor. I do not doubt that in addition to the direct result of interfering in the Noldorin royal family, Melkor hoped to undermine the Valar more generally, to sew fear, mistrust and uncertainty. And he succeeded in that.

I wonder sometimes if Finwë agreed to go in exile with Fëanor in the hopes that a smaller realm would allow him some higher degree of control. He could see the enemy coming and would not have to second guess the motives in the faces of his subjects, aides and neighbors.

Of course he does not see the enemy coming on that day when the lights have gone out. But Finwë feels him.

But even as we drew near to Formenos the darkness came upon us; and in the midst was a blackness like a cloud that enveloped the house of Fëanor.

This is what Maedhros says in his testimony to Manwë in Morgoth’s Ring. I imagine Finwë felt that mist of blackness envelop his house. Indeed, Maedhros also testified that his grandfather had felt uncertain, agitated and troubled from the start of the day, even before the trees were attacked, it was why he decided to remain while Fëanor had gone. Was it foresight? A premonition of dread?

Regardless, he must have known as he faced the demon upon his threshold that he would not survive this encounter. I imagine he wondered if his grandsons had already been struck down, perhaps even took some fleeting comfort in the knowledge that he would know within moments.

[mansnooziesmoosmutzel]

"He offered me … children. [...] My children have endured cruelties your bravest couldn't bear to hear spoken aloud."

"You told us… you loved us." - "With all that is left of my heart. Too much, to let you become Sauron’s slaves."

------

"All those of the Quendi who came into the hands of Melkor, ere Utumno was broken, were put there in prison, and by sore arts if cruelty were corrupted and enslaved; and thus did Melkor breed the hideous race of Orcs … And deep in their dark hearts the Orcs loathed the Master whom they served in fear, the maker only of their misery. This it may be was the vilest deed of Melkor, and the most hateful to Ilúvatar."

(The Silmarillion)

[hailturinturambar]

Those who follow me have certainly noticed that I am very interested in the dynamic between Melkor and Nienna in the books. There is not a single character from the beloved Tolkien that I don't like. They are all interesting in their own way.

Interestingly, I was reflecting on a film that I really like. (Van Helsing/2004) It's funny, the quote that caught my attention is not at all romantic, I really like it, and I was thinking that it goes well with Nienna and Melkor.

Yes, the terrible Dark Lord knows no forgiveness and this is mentioned in the book.

“Manwë was bound by the commands and injunctions of Eru, and would do this or abstain from that in accordance with them, always, even knowing that Melkor would break them as it suited his purpose. Thus the merciless will ever count on mercy, and the liars make use of truth; for if mercy and truth are withheld from the cruel and the lying, they have ceased to be honoured.”

And I kept thinking about the opposing relationship between the characters. While Melkor is destruction and perversion, cruelty and malice, Nienna is sadness and forgiveness, suffering and mourning.

Did Eru think of this when he created each of the Valar? How they were opposing forces that balanced each other? That Melkor's suffering could be soothed by Nienna's grief?

“She is acquainted with grief, and mourns for every wound that Arda has suffered in the marring of Melkor.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion

Nienna begged before the Valar for Melkor's forgiveness. Did they have conversations in which she begged for his salvation and sought to believe their lies?

Who knows, maybe. Either way, I'd love to write my thoughts on them if you're interested!