Updated rambly post about Morwen after her second encounter with Glaurung! I’m still working on my thoughts about this, I hope it’s ok!
I made some posts awhile back (here was the first)wondering about what exactly happened to Morwen between the encounter with Glaurung and her meeting Húrin again in Brethil. I’ve been thinking about it to the extent that I even have a tag for it now; and they saw her no more
Perhaps Morwen is hidden from Mablung either due to the lingering power of Glaurung or due to the curse, regardless of whether she was intentionally avoiding him. This is probably the reading Tolkien intended in my opinion.
Perhaps Morwen ended up imprisoned or trapped in Brethil similar to Húrin in the Wanderings. nothing stated or implied in canon leads this way and one would assume that there would be if the reader was meant to infer something like this. Purely in terms of headcanon or speculation though, I’d always thought that Avranc’s utter rage towards Húrin’s accusations to the point where he wants Húrin dead made more sense if they were either true or Avranc thought they were true.
Maybe Glaurung is right and Mablung is just really bad at his job. Morwen was nearby the whole time but either successfully hid from him or he just missed her (this is a joke to be clear)
but I feel like I left out another possibility
I actually am playing with the idea that in The Children of Húrin, like in earlier drafts, Morwen attempts to confront Glaurung to protect Niënor and was then thrown aside by the dragon, temporarily falling unconscious under the spell and waking up with little memory afterwards. She has the memory of experience within her body. She remembers how to survive in the wilds. She does not remember who taught her. She feels acutely the loss of Niënor and the worry for Túrin that brought her to these strange lands. She cannot remember her children’s names. Her own name forms upon her lips at times. She does not feel it as hers.
She travels through the ruins of what was the kingdom of Nargothrond. Birds have fled the dragon mist and flowers have withered in the spring. She remembers to eat rarely. She knows enough to be troubled by this.
Morwen regains her memories slowly. The faces of her children, of Húrin, Rían, Aerin, even her parents, return to her gradually, first as vague as shadows but then with the knowledge and certainty of their names.
She remembers the shadow of Glaurung above her as a child before she remembers that day she was thrown from her horse and everything was lost.
There are things that stay lost. She will never acknowledge them until she dies. They cut at her in the night. Her pride is unshaken. Her certainty is nigh shattered
Perhaps it is only when she sees the names on the stone in Brethil, that she fully remembers. Perhaps she remembers months before. She is barely aware of the passing of the seasons. There are moments where she is barely aware of herself. She wakes in places she does not remember falling asleep in, to injuries she has no memory of receiving
…but Morwen also was lost. Neither then nor after did any certain news of her fate come to Doriath or to Dor-lómin.
(That line also gets me so much. It just feels like she was erased entirely from the memories and places where she had been but at the same time her loss and vanishing is still felt acutely! I know that seems contradictory and I apologize if it’s confusing but that line just makes me feel both those axises of loss at the same time)
A grey wraith upon a mad steed…
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THERE’S ONLY ONE..COUCH ★ CS55
pairing: carlos sainz jr x fem!reader (she/her)
summary: You and Carlos have to sleep at Lando’s place after a party, but the guest room has no furniture, you have to sleep in the living room. So, there’s no ‘only one bed’… there’s only one couch.
warning: teasing, carlos speaking spanish.
word count: 1.5k (it's 1.555 and i love that)
note: this is my first “one shot” ever, i am SCARED. also asking for part two is allowed in this one lmao, tell me if you would like that :)
Three days ago, Lando Norris had won his first race in Formula 1 and because celebrations were never-ending to him, he had to do something with his closest friends two days after the big obnoxious party. That’s how you and Carlos ended up in Lando’s apartment in Monaco.
Now, the thing is, Lando was the one who bought the plane tickets, then sent them to you that morning, he was in a rush since you were his only guests who didn’t reside in Monaco. And you were also in a rush, so no return tickets or hotel. And even if you could afford a night in Monaco, you were still drunk-out-off-your-mind at this point.
So.
"Hey Lando, do you think that um... I stay the night? If it isn’t a bother, obviously.” You said, words collide with each other.
“Oh, of course, mate! I already told Carlos you guys could crash here.” Lando says with a new bottle of wine, you laugh at his drunk mannerisms. "But, the guest room has no furniture yet, so you have the couch or the floor.” the brunette explains.
"The couch is fine," Carlos answers behind you.
Lando raised an eyebrow "For you two?"
You understood the doubt, he was asking if you would be comfortable. The brit didn’t have that teasing tone when he sees couples interact. On that note, you exchanged glances with Carlos and he shrugged before nodding.
"Yes," you both said at the same time.
Charles choked on some wine, laughing. The Monegasque had been talking with Lando when you approached him. “Sorry, mate, I just like that they get along so well.” He clarifies and winks at you.
You rolled your eyes, Charles has been like this for months, insisting you should date Carlos, saying you both are far into each other. You tell him he is just your friend, you’re his engineer, but Charles Leclerc can be very stubborn.
“Yes, well, I think I'm going to the balcony for air, I'll see you later.” You babble and Charles lets out a big laugh. “Thank you again, Lan”
“I'm going with you.” Carlos says.
“What?”
"I'm going to take some air with you," Carlos explains to you and you nod, exiting the scene side by side, leaving behind Charles’ victorious smile and new gossip for Lando.
"I'm going to sleep on the floor," Carlos says as you approach the balcony.
“No, you won’t. You have media duty to attend this week, Carlitos, please.”
“I'll be fine, mujer!” he smiles, surrounding your shoulders with his arm “I've been doing it for a while now.”
“And that’s exactly why you shouldn't” you exclaim “If it bothers you, I'll take the floor.”
Carlos looks at you as if you just committed a crime and shakes his head. You laugh, snuggling a little into the Spaniard's arm, feeling warm and safe around him. Yeah, Carlos made you feel safe.
“Carlos, as part of the Ferrari team, I don't want you sleeping on the floor.” You complain, again.
You have been having this discussion for about three minutes. It was simple, Sainz said that he was used to it and you attacked, saying that there was room for both of you on the couch.
“Cariño, there is no room for both of us on the couch.” He repeats for the thousand time “Just lay down and sleep, I'm fine.”
"Sainz, stop it. There is enough room here, so you come to sleep here, where there is enough space, or I will make sure you can’t seat, rest or sleep in beds and couches for the rest of the season"
At that moment, Carlos turned to look at you with wide eyes, it was a funny statement, but he loved when you went all fearless for him.
Getting lost in his thoughts, Carlos gave you enough time to believe you had won the battle; so when he looked at you again, you already had a satisfied smile on your face, and he knew he had no way out.
Carlos sighed. "Okay, you win, just promise that you won't do that, please”
You looked at him tenderly and smiled. It was a peculiar smile, it was full of yearning and confessions. It wasn’t a smile you gave a lot, at least not to people who weren’t Carlos Sainz Jr. Oh, but Carlos was too blinded in his own fascination to notice.
“It’s okay, for now, I'll leave your furniture alone.”
After that, you shared a couple of laughs with the Spaniard before sitting on the sofa, moving the cushions aside, and putting down the pillows Lando gave you.
You lay down, turning to Carlos —whose eyes haven’t left you— making a small signal for him to lay down next to you.
The Spaniard approached quietly, laying down. And, it turns out, the couch wasn't as big as it looked, a quarter of Carlos's body was outside it, and it was somewhat uncomfortable.
"Hey, do you think you can move a little?" Carlos asked in a soft tone, to which you automatically agreed.
You both started to move and complain, because when you moved, he did, making you uncomfortable. You moved again. It was still messy.
This is how a few minutes passed between complaints and movement, at least before you fell directly on top of Carlos, after that, everything was silence, surprise, and closeness. Bodies so close you felt the other’s skin burn through your clothes.
You wanted to burn.
“I told you there wasn't enough space.” Carlos whispered, mockingly.
“Are you uncomfy?” You asked with annoyance, he shakes his head. "Then you're fine, I'm not uncomfy either."
For a moment, silence rules the room. Quiet enough to hear Carlos’ heart beating against his chest, you breathe deeply, so deeply that he feels it.
"You’re heart is racing, honey," you whisper, pet name slipping right through. You normally use it to joke around, and you think you are, but at some point it feels like you’re supposed to say it.
His eyes dart over your face, looking for something he knows he will find. “So it’s yours.”
You see it then. Gaze drowned in desire, pupils dilated just like yours. There’s also fear—fear of making the wrong move, of dooming something that has barely started.
You bring your fingers to Carlos’ face, caressing his jaw in the most delicate way you know.
“I want... Mi vida, can I kiss-” You don’t let him finish his question, your lips are on his.
Carlos holds you by the neck, bringing you closer. His face tilts slightly, kissing deeper. His tongue asks for permission to play with yours as butterflies find home in your stomach. You can feel Carlos melting from the taste of you, loving the feeling, the intimacy of the moment.
This felt so right yet so wrong. It was strange. One of his engineers and him. If any of the team knew, this could end bad, would bring a thousand problems, attention none of you wanted for each other. But they didn't know.
Carlos felt too good for it to be a bad thing.
He wants to kiss you for as long as you let him. He wants to pour his heart into every single one.
He wants it to last forever and that’s why splitting is the worst part of it. That moment when your body asks you for more, but needs to breathe. When it asks to be pleased, but can’t stop begging for mercy. You want his lips to be mercy. But you find air.
Carlos looks at you in fascination, his hands instinctively falling on your hips. Something stops him.
“Can I touch you?” He asks and you nod.
The Spaniard’s eyes sparkle, surrendering to intimacy. His fingers begin to slide down your curves, slow and fearful, trying to do everything not to disturb you. You who can’t be more eager.
“Your curves are… beautiful” He whispers, looking for the words he wanted, “So perfect.”
“Carlos,”
“Si, mi vida?” He whispers into your ear, biting the lobe gently. This small contact causes your back to arch slightly. Carlos speaks again “So, so, beautiful.”
“Carlos, please,” you beg, it was unnecessary to ask if you wanted to stop or continue.
"Oh, what I would do to you if we weren't at Lando’s place." That little innuendo seems to leave Carlos’ lips by accident, realization making his face burn.
You just smile. Wanting more, wanting his words to be spoken with promise.
“Want to know something, Sainz? We have a two-week break after this race, and I have no plans.” That makes Carlos smile, closing the gap between you once again. You wonder if it would actually happen, if it’s not you making empty promises.
“Then I’ll have to get you to Spain.” Carlos whispers, kissing your neck, finding comfort in it. “Good night, mi vida.”
“Good night, my love.”
translations:
linda pretty
cariño sweetheart
mi vida my life
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