#wolfmadness au

[curiouselleth]

Be He Foe or Friend: Silmarillion choose your own adventure fic!

How Can We Heal?: Finrod in the Halls of Mandos, but the Halls are kinda torture and super traumatic.

Veil of Starlight: Elured and Elurin survive and Elured is Gil-galad.

What We Became: from the wolfmadness AU. The blood of Sauron's wolves drives people mad. Sauron experiments with the little king who dared to challenge him (Finrod).

Requested fic; was initially requested about 2 weeks ago, just started writing it.

Raistlin is Eru: crackfic, exactly what it sounds like, Raistlin destroyed the world, got a second chance to make a new one. He is Eru, and I saw some interesting connections between Raistlin's past and actions and possible Eru motivations and they blended and made sense lol.

Redeemed Sauron encounters re-embodied Finrod & Celebrimbor one-shot: this one is just what it sounds like lol

Powers AU: as soon as the Noldor re-unite in beleriand the start developing powers, powers based off of their experiences, skills, and environments. Nothing super flashy - except when they first appear and in times of distress and such. So most Noldor who burned the ships get fire powers, and most who crossed the helcaraxe have ice, cold, or water powers. Right now I think I'll have about 1/6 of the elves NOT get powers, for no particular reason.

Feanor!Curufin: Feanor dies, doesn't know if Amrod survives or not, and begs and begs the valar and Namo to let him return to try to save them, and fix his mistakes. Finally they relent, with conditions. But by then it has been a long time, and he is sent back to the second kinslaying into Curufin's body as he dies. One of the conditions; he cannot straight-out tell anyone he is Feanor.

High King Finrod: what it sounds like, Finrod survives, goes to Balar, when Gondolion falls he becomes High King because Gil-galad is too damn young for this. Particularly focusing on when the hosts of Valinor and Finarfin arrive. I need the angst and shock and horror.

Finrod at the first kinslaying: so much more angst then it says on the tin. He is there, protecting the Teleri. Just protecting. Not fighting back offensively. He encounters Caranthir, but Caranthir is blind with the rage of battle. And nearly kills Finrod, before Aegnor and Angrod arrive and beat him back, rescuing Finrod. Finrod almost dies. Then when he is fighting Sauron, Sauron's spells do not just re open trauma and mental wounds. But that one.

Morgoth Wins AU: There is A Lot here. I wrote 1336 words just summarizing what I want in it. But it starts with Morgoth offering the Feanorians a deal they can't refuse. And cities fall by their sword on his behalf. *slaps fic idea* this bad boy can fit SO much angst in it.

[fangirl-erdariel]

These Horrors Like a Cloud

I wrote a little fic! Part of the Wolfmadness AU, taking place some time after Beren & Lúthien's escape from Angband; Beren talking to Huan about his experiences with the madness, and Huan comforting him. (I have to admit, I was mildly surprised to find that Beren & Huan is not already a relationship tag on Ao3)

[erdarielthewhumper]

help this is giving me thoughts abour the wolfmadness au and carcharoth being actually transformed aegnor...

A is prepared to be sacrificed to a beast. As they thrash in their restraints, they see it being led out of the darkness, heavy chains rattling as A's executors drag the creature by the rusty collar around its neck. there's a second when the beast lifts its gaze, meeting A's eyes – and A understands it has no choice, and is as afraid as they are.

[curiouselleth]

What We Became (ao3)

Summary: The blood of Sauron's wolves unravels minds. Sauron decides to experiment with the little king who dared to challenge him.

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Characters: Finrod Felagund, Gorthaur (Sauron), Beren

Footsteps. Footsteps on the stairs. He started shaking. His chains clinked together as he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to stop trembling. 

“Can’t let them know can’t let them know can’t let them know I’m afraid, have to be strong, I have to be strong, for them. I can’t give in no matter what I can’t.”

The footsteps continued approaching, set on their cause.

Finrod shook himself a little. “Stop. Spiraling. Think. Why would he come back so soon? To gloat? Possibly, after all he did just beat an elf who had the audacity to battle him in song, and almost win at that… But gloating? Perhaps a bit childish. Everything Gorthaur did had a purpose, even in the duel his every move had been so intentional. So he had to be coming for some kind of purpose.” Finrod started shaking harder as the footsteps got louder. Closer. 

He craned to listen, trying to get any clue as to why he was coming. “Careful… the footsteps are a little slow, he is walking carefully.” 

This clue did not help. Finrod slowly inhaled, in… out… in… out. 

“Stay calm, stay calm, don’t panic, be brave for the others, be strong for them. Breathe… think… before he gets here…”

But there was not much time. Closer and closer, he could hear the chains of his friends clinking and clanking as they shifted anxiously and trembled. He could hear their breathing getting faster… except for Beren next to him, who was breathing long and slow. Trying to stay calm too. 

“For him or the others?” Finrod wondered as a fiery light turned around the corner, butting through the pitch black. But now they were out of time. 

Gorthaur was here. 

His steps down the corridor were careful, as Finrod had thought, but now they made a beeline for- “no, Beren!” Finrod thought desperately, and tried to reach out to him, to warn him… only to see Beren was doing the same… and Sauron continued past him, straight to Finrod.

Finrod tried to glare at him, but it came out more as a squint as the light emanating from Gorthaur was so bright compared to the cold, black darkness they had been in. 

He blinked, trying to make out what Sauron held.

A cup?

“Why would Sauron bring a cup?” Finrod’s mind raced through possibilities, “Water, perhaps he wishes to play nice now? Poison, perhaps he wishes to kill him this way for daring to fight him… no, no, no that it’s right, that is not,” Finrod closed his eyes for a moment. “No, that is not how he kills those who defy him, or are of interest to him.” 

Gorthaur kneeled down before Finrod, and held out the cup. “Drink it yourself or I will force you. I have no preference.” 

Finrod pressed his lips together. Shook his head. The words of defiance he wishes to shout swirled against his tongue, longing to lash out at Gorthaur. 

“Fine.” Gorthaur mildly said, setting the cup on the floor. Just out of Finrod’s reach, but finally the contents are in sight. Dark, a dark liquid. Opaque. Finrod nervously shuffled back against the wall and finally spoke. The first time since the duel.

His voice hoarse, he shouted; “I will not yield to you, never! None of us will!” A glimmer of foresight crossed before his eyes, “in the end you will fall, you will fail and be cast into the void to Morgoth!” 

What he didn’t say was that it would not be through the acts of the great or mighty that would fell Gorthaur. But through the effort of the small, the determined. Small beings, like of which he had not yet seen in the world. And Never would.

Gorthaur stepped forward, grabbing Finrod’s neck, picking him up and slamming him back onto the floor, Finrod clawed at him but, to no avail as Gorthaur pinned his arms to the ground and pried his mouth open.

Finrod quickly took a deep breath and held it, but nearly gasped as he smelt the contents of the cup for the first time. Blood. Not the blood of elves. Something else. 

“What is this?” was the last thought that passed through his mind before panic finally took over and he started thrashing, no longer thinking of seeming calm for his friends, for Edrahil, for Beren, “no no nonoNO!”

It burned and it burned as he tried to hold his breath, tried not to swallow it, but then his mouth was full and Sauron was forcing it shut, pinching his nose shut, he struggled and he struggled but he couldn’t he couldn't it started going down, down down and burning and his mouth was open and more being poured in, down down and burning and he wasn’t coughing even as he breathed some in, not coughing, he felt the edge of a spell curling around him, keeping him from coughing and gagging and forcing it down and into him. 

More and more and the burning spread and spread, he could not think, couldn’t think, struggling and thrashing as more and more and more came, far more than could be in the cup somehow. His chains released, let go, falling off of him.

Then everything went dark and he felt no more. 

- - -

The stone was rough and wet underneath him. And warm.

“Odd,” he mused, “why would the floor be warm? … the dungeon floor too,” he recalled. He laid there, unmoving as his thoughts slowly returned, swirling and swirling around and around. 

“What happened…” thoughts and memories were not coming easily, he gasped as pain lanced through his mind. Things felt… fractured… wrong. 

“The songs! The battle… battle, why was he battling someone… who?” his mind started racing, “captured… where? By who? Where was he going… going somewhere with someone…”

Footsteps echoed from down the halls, and Finrod tensed, “who, who who whowhowho? Footsteps, footsteps coming, chains and- a cup! But what was in it?” 

His body ached, the wetness of the floor growing cold against his skin. 

“Whatever coved the floor covered him too.” he realized. Especially around his face, his neck, his nails. 

He heard whispering. Sniffles. “Crying?” he vaguely thought. It was so hard to think, to hold on… why was he, again? His mind wandered in and out of consciousness for some time. 

When he returned to consciousness the last time he felt more… alert perhaps wasn’t the right word, but thoughts were not as hard to hold onto. 

“Beren!” the thought struck him, memories returning like a flash of lightning in the night. “The Quest! … no, being captured, Tol Sirion, Minas Tirith… no, not minas Tirith anymore. Wrong. Perverted. Taken by- by… him.” 

He sobbed as he remembered. But what happened after, after the cup, the burning and choking would not come forth from his memory. 

“The chains, they fell off, I was freed…” he remembered last. But still, what happened after would not reveal itself in his memory. Tears ran down his face, marking paths through the sticky, drying thing he was covered in. 

“The floor was covered too… what was- NO” the realization of what covered him hit him like a battering ram. Blood. He was covered in blood. And it was not his. His sobs finally grew in volume so that the others- goodness no the others, could hear him. They fell silent. Only the faint sound of sniffling and falling tears remained. 

None called out to him. None spoke to him. 

“Why? Why do they not call out? We spoke before, before- before He came. We whispered, offering comfort to each other… why do they ot now when something has happened?” 

His thoughts became hazy again, and he tried to call out, to call for any of them, to beg- “no, no, I must be strong for them, I must not beg,” he thought, and tried to think of what to say, so be strong for them, to find out what happened, but it was so hard, so so hard, getting more difficult to think my the second, he thought “Edrahil? Beren? … are you there- please, tell me what happened, I cannot remember” yes, yes that should be good,” he thought, but even as he opened his mouth to call out, he felt the words die in his throat, his mouth forced shut, he tensed, but- “no, no that is not right it should not feel like that,” his body felt, twisted. Warped. Still in the shape of one of the eldar but distinctly Wrong. 

He had been so lost in thought he did not realize that He stood beside him. 

He knelt down to Finrod and whispered, “I see you managed to beat it back, little king. Perhaps if you were to be rescued now, you could beat it… I have never seen one beat it before. Impressive. But alas for you, you will not be. Your strength will fail soon,” he hissed, “and you will do it again. And again. And again. Until they are all gone… until they are all gone and it is only you, and I will let you come back for long enough to see your good work, and then, then you shall go to my master.” He laughed hoarsely, a twisted thing. “He delights in new things to twist. And he will delight in doing so to you and you shall never know peace.” 

He pauses for a minute, studying Finrod. “Don’t worry, I won’t give you so much that it changes you utterly. You will look the same, mostly. After all, the last thing I want your defiant friends to see will be your face.” He laughs again, and Finrod’s mind races, barely there enough to comprehend it.

“Your mind will likely shatter,” He continues, “it will become fragmented, but it will still exist,” he pauses again. “At least, that is my theory. I have never met one that is so strong and been able to play like this. Your cousin was, though I did not get to twist him as I do you, and your brother wasn’t as strong, he was not a challenge, like you. I wonder what makes you different?” he sighs. “I doubt you will remember this. But I so rarely get to talk to anyone intelligent, though I suppose your intelligence is a question with how you ended up here.” 

Finrod is barely looking, barely breathing as his mind races, trying and failing to process all this information, but he can still see, practically feel the smirk that adorns His face. 

Before Finrod can even think, he tries lunging off the floor at Him, but He kicks him back down to the ground. 

“We’ll have none of that, little king. Stay.” Sauron states, as if he is scolding a mischievous puppy. The last word, “stay” is imbued with power, and Finrod can feel it binding him to the ground. 

“If only I… if only I could regain my strength, for just a moment…” the thought runs across his mind, usually this small spell would be nothing, and he could break out easily, but more than a lack of strength, was the odd lack of will to try to escape… he was tired. So, so, tired. 

“I could just lay here forever…” his eyes drifted shut for a moment, then he forced them back open, an old thought echoing in his mind; “stay strong stay strong stay strong protect them protect them, stay strong, protect them…” over and over it echoed in his mind, as His echoing footsteps returned. 

Finrod slowly blinked. Once again He bore a cup. Finrod’s heart started racing, his blood pounding through him, roaring in his ears, “no nonononononononononoNO NO!” 

Finrod still did not not remember what happened last time, but his body reacted, NO NO NO, Finrod vainly struggled and thrashed against His spell, but He was bearing down, down, down on him with the cup again, and the moment the blood touched his lips, everything went dark once more.

But he still felt, a little. His nails like claws raking into something… something warm splattering over his face, something more than blood running down his throat, hands pounding on his chest, shoving and hitting, trying to bat him away… screaming and crying… voices calling, “No, stop, Finrod… “

“But who is Finrod, I wonder… perhaps the one screaming… yes, that’s it. I wish he would stop… I just want to rest… sleep…” the lone thought crosses his mind. 

Then there is nice darkness for a while. But then, again. The same consciousness, yet utter disconnectedness… again more screaming, clawing… again some voice calling for Finrod… 

“But who is he…?”

Again and again and again. Once or twice He came, to watch, to give him the cup to drink. “The first time I was forced to drink it,”  he thinks, “I struggled and it hurt… maybe, maybe next time, maybe… maybe I don’t, and it won’t hurt again… I don’t want to hurt again…” the thoughts drift through his head before the blissful darkness comes again.

Next time he does not struggle. He takes the cup… “what was in it again…? It does not matter… just don’t want to hurt…” he drinks it.

Again, again, again, again, again, and again. The screaming, metallic scent and the clawing then the quiet darkness after. 

If he still could count, could still properly think, he would know there was only one left. 

This one was different. He had stopped shouting and screaming a while ago. He just cried, was always just out of reach - for he did reach for him. But now he was being shoved towards him. 

“Then there will be screaming and tears and then I will no longer be hungry again and I can sleep…” he lunged at the last one.

The others had fought too. He thinks so, at least. But this one was different. This time was different. Things were- were more clear. He could see better. Before he could, before he knew how he was on the floor. The last one was on top of him, pressing down… a different kind of darkness came. And this time it stayed. 

[curiouselleth]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Characters: Finrod Felagund, Beren Erchamion, Sauron (Tolkien), Gorthaur Additional Tags: wolfmadness AU, Tol-in-Gaurhoth (Tolkien), no beta we die like the high kings of the noldor, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Horror, Body Horror, Angst, Heavy Angst, Cannibalism Summary:

The blood of Sauron's wolves unravels minds. Sauron decides to experiment with the little king who dared to challenge him.

[curiouselleth]

I mean, if you're up for sharing sneak peeks to what you're writing, I wouldn't mind getting to see a bit of what you're doing with the wolfmadness AU! :D

Hi @erdariel!

I'm working on the next chapter of What We Became, the same events as chapter 1 but from Beren's perspective!

Here's the beginning, Beren is having a guilt spiral:

Guilt and pain tore through him.  I had asked for their help. I am why they are here. It’s my fault. It is my fault they all were captured, my fault that they are here, about to die. He had accepted his death many times over. Then he met her. His Tinuviel. And she made him want to live again. After what happened Ered Gorgoroth and Nan Dungortheb… he had wished for it all to end.  But now it seemed it would. At least before I was alone. Not dragging anyone to their death with him. But now I am. They had chosen to follow me… all but one. Finrod. Finrod. He had no choice, I forced him. I forced him. Forced him to come, to try to help, Finrod had no choice. And now he was going to die in this pitch dark dungeon.  Nargothrond had been breathtaking. Finrod had built both of these places but they were so different now. Yes, Menegroth had been beautiful. Otherworldly. Ancient. But Nargothrond was different. Warmer. Closer, it felt less high and lofty, not that it was any less grand. Nargothrond was so alive, so happy.  Finrod’s kingdom was beautiful. So much love and care had been put into the city, carved into the walls by Finrod himself. Finrod left his home, so he built a new one, not just for him but for so many.  Beren lost his home, but he was driven out. And he carved such a path of violence and destruction as he left that he feared he spilled more blood than the orcs. Not that he could remember much. Then he came to Doriath, the home of his love. And he brought disruption and pain. Then to Nargothrond, where he shattered the peace, gave the Feanorians more power, and dragged Finrod out of his home. To die. 

He's not having a good time, but then, no one is!

[fangirl-erdariel]

aaaaa poor Beren!! I wanna wrap him in a blanket and hug him! my poor boy!!

I mean, if you're up for sharing sneak peeks to what you're writing, I wouldn't mind getting to see a bit of what you're doing with the wolfmadness AU! :D

Hi @erdariel!

I'm working on the next chapter of What We Became, the same events as chapter 1 but from Beren's perspective!

Here's the beginning, Beren is having a guilt spiral:

Guilt and pain tore through him.  I had asked for their help. I am why they are here. It’s my fault. It is my fault they all were captured, my fault that they are here, about to die. He had accepted his death many times over. Then he met her. His Tinuviel. And she made him want to live again. After what happened Ered Gorgoroth and Nan Dungortheb… he had wished for it all to end.  But now it seemed it would. At least before I was alone. Not dragging anyone to their death with him. But now I am. They had chosen to follow me… all but one. Finrod. Finrod. He had no choice, I forced him. I forced him. Forced him to come, to try to help, Finrod had no choice. And now he was going to die in this pitch dark dungeon.  Nargothrond had been breathtaking. Finrod had built both of these places but they were so different now. Yes, Menegroth had been beautiful. Otherworldly. Ancient. But Nargothrond was different. Warmer. Closer, it felt less high and lofty, not that it was any less grand. Nargothrond was so alive, so happy.  Finrod’s kingdom was beautiful. So much love and care had been put into the city, carved into the walls by Finrod himself. Finrod left his home, so he built a new one, not just for him but for so many.  Beren lost his home, but he was driven out. And he carved such a path of violence and destruction as he left that he feared he spilled more blood than the orcs. Not that he could remember much. Then he came to Doriath, the home of his love. And he brought disruption and pain. Then to Nargothrond, where he shattered the peace, gave the Feanorians more power, and dragged Finrod out of his home. To die. 

He's not having a good time, but then, no one is!

[erdarielthewhumper]

haha yeah, long time Tolkien nerd here! (...do you want to know about the Russian Beren and Lúthien rock operas? I can tell you about the Russian Beren and Lúthien rock operas)

to be clear, the wolfmadness AU is something i came up with somebody on discord back in spring, tbh it's more horror than whump but. you know how that is. basically the core of the AU is that the blood of the werewolves, when ingested, depending on the quantity either puts a person in this rabid state where they just madly mindlessly attack anyone and anything around; or in larger quantity and with more purpose, it can be used to turn a person into a werewolf (if you want to read it, here's the fics we've written for it so far)

it kinda started with the idea that Finrod, wrestling the wolf in Tol-in-Gauroth to save Beren, was inflicted with the wolfmadness, and ultimately Beren was forced to kill him (it may or may not have actually started earlier, before all of Finrod's faithful were killed, and Finrod may have killed some of the faithful himself, but anyway), and then we just... started having ideas. like, Beren having been briefly accidentally inflicted with the wolfmadness somewhere in the time between Barahir and the other outlaws being killed, and Beren coming to Doriath (in very small amounts of blood, the madness will eventually pass, but it's not a fun experience even then. and in typical circumstances, the person inflicted with the madness is killed before they can recover, due to the danger they pose to everyone around them). And another idea was that Aegnor had not died in Bragollach, but been captured, and turned into the werewolf Carcharoth

i've recently also been thinking about the possibility of Celebrían in the AU having been intentionally afflicted with the madness by the orcs for whatever reason, but i've not gotten around to writing it yet

A is prepared to be sacrificed to a beast. As they thrash in their restraints, they see it being led out of the darkness, heavy chains rattling as A's executors drag the creature by the rusty collar around its neck. there's a second when the beast lifts its gaze, meeting A's eyes – and A understands it has no choice, and is as afraid as they are.