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ardafanonarch · 4 months

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The Others: Ringil, Dagmor, Glamdring, Orcrist, Sting

Swords of the First Age, Part 3 of 3

[This is a continuation of the response to this ask]

Ringil

Meaning: From ringe- “cold”. Quenya. (Eldamo).

Maker: Unknown

Owned/wielded by: Fingolfin

Notable for: wounding Morgoth seven times and hewing his foot.

Fate: Unknown.

But Fingolfin gleamed beneath it as a star; for his mail was overlaid with silver, and his blue shield was set with crystals; and he drew his sword Ringil, that glittered like ice. The Silmarillion, ‘Of the Ruin of Beleriand and the Fall of Fingolfin’

Discussion

We don’t know a lot about Ringil besides its epic, climactic moment. Who made it? Was it brought from Valinor or made in Beleriand? Did it somehow survive Fingolfin’s fall? Lots of room for the imagination to roam.

Dagmor

Meaning: Uncertain. Possibly “Slayer of Darkness”, combining dag- “slay” and môr “darkness”. Sindarin. (Eldamo).

Maker: Unknown

Owned/wielded by: Beren

Fate: Unknown

Danger he sought and death pursued, and thus escaped the doom he wooed, and deeds of breathless daring wrought alone, of which the rumour brought new hope to many a broken man. They whispered 'Beren,' and began in secret swords to whet, and soft by shrouded hearths at evening oft songs they would sing of Beren's bow, of Dagmor his sword… Lay of Leithian Recommenced, 503-12

This is the only mention of Beren’s sword’s name.

From the Trolls' Lair

There were lots of clothes, too, hanging on the walls—too small for trolls, I am afraid they belonged to victims—and among them were several swords of various makes, shapes, and sizes. Two caught their eyes particularly, because of their beautiful scabbards and jewelled hilts. Gandalf and Thorin each took one of these; and Bilbo took a knife in a leather sheath. It would have made only a tiny pocket-knife for a troll, but it was as good as a short sword for the hobbit. The Hobbit, Chapter 2: Roast Mutton Elrond knew all about runes of every kind. That day he looked at the swords they had brought from the trolls' lair, and he said: ‘These are not troll make. They are old swords, very old swords of the High Elves of the West, my kin. They were made in Gondolin for the Goblin wars. They must have come from a dragon's hoard or goblin plunder, for dragons and goblins destroyed that city many ages ago. This, Thorin, the runes name Orcrist, the Goblin cleaver in the ancient tongue of Gondolin; it was a famous blade. This, Gandalf, was Glamdring, Foehammer that the king of Gondolin once wore. The Hobbit, Chapter 3: A Short Rest

Glamdring

Meaning: Foehammer. Sindarin. Called Beater by the goblins.

Maker: Elves of Gondolin

Notable for: slaying the Great Goblin.

Owned/wielded by: Turgon, Gandalf

Fate: Unknown

Discussion

Glamdring is a significant First Age weapon for having been the sword of Turgon, though no mention of it is made in the “Silmarillion” legends, as with the other “Troll’s lair” blades. (Tolkien never returned to edit or rewrite the narrative version of the story of the fall of Gondolin — other than the unfinished ‘Of Tuor and his Coming to Gondolin’, which ends with Tuor’s arrival to the Hidden City — after the publication of The Hobbit; he may have intended to incorporate Glamdring and Orcrist into the legends and never got around to it.)

As the only weapon known to have been in Gandalf’s possession in his last standoff with Dúrin’s Bane, Glamdring may have dealt the death blow to the Balrog. It is not known whether Gandalf took Glamdring to the Undying Lands when he departed or left it in Middle-earth.

Orcrist

Meaning: Goblin Cleaver. Sindarin. Called Biter by the goblins.

Maker: Elves of Gondolin

Owned by: Unknown; Thorin Oakenshield (taken from him in Mirkwood)

Fate: Placed by Thranduil on Thorin’s tomb.

It had killed hundreds of goblins in its time, when the fair elves of Gondolin hunted them in the hills or did battle before their walls. They had called it Orcrist, Goblin-cleaver, but thegoblins called it simply Biter. They hated it and hated worse any one that carried it. The Hobbit, Chapter 4: Over Hill and Under Hill Upon his tomb the Elvenking then laid Orcrist, the elvish sword that had been taken from Thorin in captivity. It is said in songs that it gleamed ever in the dark if foes approached, and the fortress of the dwarves could not be taken by surprise. The Hobbit, Chapter 18: The Return Journey

Discussion

Though Elrond says Orcrist was a “famous blade” he does not say to whom it belonged. As Gondolin had no shortage of great warriors and other nobles, there is ample opportunity for the imagination to run wild.

Sting (dagger)

Meaning: Any previous name unknown; named by Bilbo after he killed a spider of Mirkwood.

Maker: Presumably also Elves of Gondolin.

Owned by: Unknown; Bilbo Baggins, Frodo Baggins, Samwise Gamgee

Notable for: slaying Shelob.

Fate: Unknown.

Somehow the killing of the giant spider, all alone by himself in the dark without the help of the wizard or the dwarves or of anyone else, made a great difference to Mr. Baggins. He felt a different person, and much fiercer and bolder in spite of an empty stomach, as he wiped his sword on the grass and put it back into its sheath. “I will give you a name,” he said to it, “and I shall call you Sting.” The Hobbit, Chapter 8: Flies and Spider

Discussion

Sting, as a dagger, may not have been an especially significant weapon in the First Age, though of course one can always imagine tales for it involving well-known canonical characters! As with Glamdring, we do not know whether Sam took it with him when he sailed or not.

Finally: Elrond surmises that the “Troll’s lair” weapons survived through multiple plunderings over the Ages — but it’s not a sure thing. There’s room to invent other histories for these blades.

Tangent: Glowing Blue

The ability to glow blue in the presence of Orcs seems to have been a feature unique to these three Gondolin-forged blades. Whether or not other Elven weapons had this ability is unknown, though it’s not implausible that they would possess this or other “magical” properties. For those who enjoy coming up with explanations, the “science” behind the blue glow is also left to the imagination.

Research

Note that these websites contain some inaccuracies and incomplete citations and were used to help with finding quotations.

The Tolkien Forum: Weapons

Wikipedia: List of weapons and armour in Middle-earth

Elven Swords by Iain Norman (This one is an interesting and well-researched essay comparing the sword designs in the Jackson films to Tolkien’s canon; accurate info to the best of my knowledge)

Tolkien Gateway

Part 1 | Part 2

#weapons #ringil #fingolfin #beren #glamdring #gandalf #turgon #orcrist #thorin oakenshield #sting #bilbo baggins #frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #the lay of leithian #the hobbit #anon

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eunoiaastralwings · 2 years

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Your writing is so incredibly talented and you just have such a way with words, putting out ideas into beautiful stories! So for that thank you so much! Can I please request a Turgon x Female Reader in Gondolin where she’s a human his guards found outside the boarders and he’s crazy protective of the hidden kingdom and requests her to be brought in. But reader is actually a medic who lost her group. Kinda a slow burn love story and he falls in love and asks her to stay with him? Answer is yes!

Elen Lantanwanya (My Fallen Star)

Part 1 (reading), Part 2, Part 3

featuring turgon x reader

fandom tolkien — the silmarillion

a/n awe thnx hun! - am so happy to hear that! I turned this into a 2 part two— here's the 1st part let me know what you think and if i should continue — thank you!

warnings blood, injury, medics, trust issues

A heavy breath left as Turgon looked at you - bruised and frail, like a fallen star found on his borders by his guards. He was almost afraid to touch - you looked so delicate and fragile.

When he asked his guards to bring you in – he never expected you to look so beautiful.

Yes – your hair was matted, fixed with dirt and blood and mud covered your arms and clothes – but there was something Turgon almost found beautiful in the fallen and hurt.

You had fallen unconscious by the time his guards brought you in – drained and dehydrated.

His medics worked around the clock to bring you back to consciousness at least – Turgon didn’t understand why he desperately wanted you to regain consciousness.

The logical part of him thought it was he needed to interrogate you – make sure you weren’t a spy or servant of Morgoth.

For a few hours – Turgon watched you with cautious eyes as tried to fight for your consciousness.

How long were you out there to suffer badly?

You were injured and bruised too.

Turgon’s eyes were twitching at the ongoing unanswered question – he remembered it was something his dearest big brother Finno always teased him for.

Turgon wanted to know anything and everything – if it meant keeping his family safe and when he didn’t it annoyed him and his hano would advise him ‘You can’t always know everything, brother, wait and see. . .’

It was in the middle of dinner with his daughter – when a guard came rushing forward.

“My king – forgive me! But the human woke up and is causing havoc! – The human not listening to us!”

Turgon raised an eyebrow – his guards couldn’t handle one little human.

Even his daughter seemed surprised at the statement – nevertheless Turgon left his dinner to witness the wreck you were making.

When he entered he was quite surprised to see the room covered in broken pots and clays – those were easily replaceable – however it was the herbal medicine Turgon was worried about.

He rushed in – surprised to see herbs were left unharmed.

You were there to – your shaking body trying to hold you upright when you were carefully analysing a herb.

“Arugula. . .”

He heard you concluding.

“How do you know that?”

Turgon asked.

If you didn’t notice him before – you did not.

You gasped and tried to grab the first thing you could use as a weapon, – a piece of broken clay.

But your shaking feet gave you out.

You landed on the broken shards – hissing and crying in pain.

But you quickly scrambled up when the alarmed elf tried to reach you.

“No!”

You shouted – scared and frightened.

You hid yourself underneath a table – trying to make yourself as small as possible.

There were many nasty elves out there – he could be one of them.

One could never be too careful.

True – it wasn't the elves' fault you lost your group – but because of the orcs – Eru only knows how you survived.

But you still couldn’t trust just anyone easily.

Turgon recognized the fear in your eyes – a search for safety – willing to do almost anything to keep away from harm.

It was something he hoped never to see in the eyes of his own people.

Turgon sighed and bent your height – kneeing quietly on the ground.

He looked at you with a warm smile – it reminded you of moonlight over the still sea.

Slowly for you to see – he held out a hand.

“It’s alright – I will not harm you, elen lantanwanya” (My fallen star).

Still you shook your head – more afraid now because he used a language you didn’t understand.

You felt imprisoned in a world that was nothing like yours – you felt lost and scared.

Turgon sighed again and nodded – thinking it was best to leave you be.

You would come out in your own time.

He had advised his medics to give you anything you required and leave it at a safe distance – anything to keep from being more scared.

A week passed – while you had accepted the food and water they offered you after 2 days – you still refused to come out from under the table and greet them – especially Turgon.

He visited you everybody – you were almost getting used to his daily visits.

He asked you for your name – but you chose not to answer.

Then he asked for where you come from – you were reluctant in answering that, but you did.

Explaining you were from a village from the east – which had been destroyed. You meekly explained you were out with your group when orcs attacked and lost them.

You didn’t say anything more – he didn’t need to know anything, you decided.

So you kept yourself hidden.

Well – that was until one day – guards came in badly injured from outside the hidden city.

Your eyes widened at the number of wounded soldiers – even with all the medics present it still wasn’t enough.

You overheard it was an ambush by orcs.

You held down your pride and stood to help – after all there was a vow medics made to themselves – they would never let life die without trying to save them first.

You raced through the room trying to get whatever you required – the elvish medics were surprised with the knowledge you had – and the skills you performed with fast and careful hands.

You easily helped him – moving from one patient to the next.

You were almost sweating and exhausted by the end of it – there was a large number of them after all.

You sighed out in relief when a medic assisted you – you were too exhausted and scared you were going to mess up.

Your limbs feel heavy and you thought you would collapse any minute.

You tried to walk away from them – but suddenly your back collided with someone.

You turned to apologize – your eyes widened seeing it was that elf.

Turgon looked at you in shock and surprise – you were a medic?

You gulped – when you watched you carefully.

“You’re a medic, elen lantanwanya?”

There was it again – what did it mean?

You remembered you called you that again and again – probably because you never gave him your name.

You took a deep breath and nodded.

The both of you carefully looked at each other.

You still didn’t know if you could trust him – and you figured maybe he thought the same.

But his eyes were kind and wise – someone who held courage, goodness and bravery.

Over the years – as a medic you were learning to read people.

But those were humans – your own.

Are elves the same?

should I continue?

silm taglist: @doodle-pops

tara's taglist: @aeonianarchives @spidergirla5 @mslizziesblog @wandererindreams

form for taglist

#turgon x reader #turgon #the silmarillion #the silm x reader #the silmarillion x reader #gondolin #noldor #turukano #turgon the wise #answered #tarawrites #silmarillion #tolkien elves

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novemberthecatadmirer · 2 years

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A Growing List of my extremely-OOC Silm Headcanon:

Dark is not Evil, Evil is Nothingness. Evil tells you “There is no Good and Evil there is no Right Things to do everything does not matter stop worrying and love the jail.” Evil traps you in indifference and inaction while it burns the world around you.

The Void was a Nihilism hell filled with Spiders. If you get lost there the Void would eat you and turn you into a Spider.

Everlasting Darkness did not exist. Feanor was being dramatic.

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The Evil loved darkness and black and everything morbid because Melkor was jealous of Namo for his top-tier aesthetics. Namo was at least 3 times hotter than Melkor and I am not spreading rumor, he got the nice fiber artist wife and fiber people are the kindest people ever peopled. Morgoth got his revenge by filling Namo’s house with broken souls and mountains of paperwork.

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Morgoth single-handedly created mental illness. His curses and spells were depression, anxiety and ptsd.

Morgoth was the self-claimed artists that did art by destroying other people’s art. And his taste is BAD and BORING.

You should be VERY AFRAID of Sauron.

Sauron was the personification of Orwellian Horror. For the sake of world Sauron must die. Yes he was an idea and you cannot kill an idea but it is better to kill him again and again than letting him free roaming building his lovely 1984 empires.

Sauron was not follower of Morgoth no matter how he appeared. He was plotting to overthrow Morgoth and snatch the nice piece of world domination and was happy that the Valar did the hardest part for him.

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NO. Things touched by evil were NOT EVIL. That’s the lie Morgoth wanted you to believe.

Fuck the concept of “Black Heart.”

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Elves can suicide and it did not need specific condition and it happened more often than you think. The history just did not like to mention it.

Honestly if you were chased by Sauron or Morgoth you better finish yourself first. When you see them it would be too late, they would trap your soul and forced you to fate worse than death.

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Elves can be in relationship however they want.

They had all kinds of relationship.

They had crazy ideas of relationship. (HONESTLY, dating mortals lived less than 1/10 of your past life.)

Being an elf and having crush on your cousin? Fine go for it everyone was related anyway. Turgon was against it because two of his siblings had crush on cousins and somehow ended up died and he was DONE with the mess. In general be prepared for the bad luck when you are an elf and have crush on cousin.

LaCE is nice but I do not need to know her to lead my happy life.

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Death was the Gift of Men, but Elves got Gift too and their Gift was Life.

Morgoth managed to corrupt both of the Gifts with pain and suffering and fear.

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Tolkien can have his obsession with “tall and taller and tallest,” and I am going to claim this and that and that character being short and shorter and shortest.

Tolkien can have his obsession with beautiful hair and I am going to call him a fellow mortal of culture.

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I am still salty about the treatment of Easterlings. And orcs.

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Everything about Eol and Aredhel and Maeglin were lazy biased incorrect writing from Gondolin survivors crushed by sorrow and guilt and hate.

People just refused to believe their wonderful princess would willingly marry with a foreigner who was a nobody lived in some weird forest.

Eol and Aredhel should never get married though. They had fucking different political views. Probably got married because they looked at each other and went “Oh how exotic,” then just jumped straight into the pit to suffer together.

Turgon was depressed and passively suicidal and stuck in inaction and if he listened to Ulmo earlier none of the mess would happen.

Everyone broke in Angband. If one was not broken that meant they did not want to break them and was preserving them for something else.

Maeglin went crazy and believed killing Earendil and sending him to Mandos would be better than leaving him to Morgoth.

Morgoth showed him some creative plans.

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There were absolutely urban climbers in Gondolin.

Idril once put a giant red pumpkin right on the very tip of the Tower of the King’s pinnacle the Cornell University way.

Nobody believed she did it even when she straight up said it a month later. She secretly was very offended.

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All the weird cave-explorer kids went to House of the Mole.

They all got killed when the city fell.

#tolkien #lotr #lotr meta #the silmarillion #silmarillion #silm #silm headcanons #silm meta #morgoth #melkor #sauron #mairon #namo #Eol #aredhel #maeglin #idril #gondolin

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crownlessliestheking · 1 year

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Húrin and Maedhros for the character ask?

-@outofangband

Yes! Of course.

Maedhros:

Why I like them- He's just so fucking interesting? He's in charge, he's following his father's footsteps and simultaneously straying far from what Feanor would've wanted. He's a leader, he is not afraid to make difficult decisions, and this ends up being a fatal fuckin' flaw with how the First Age plays out. He knows better than anyone what the end of the road looks like, thanks to Angband, and he comes to peace with it in a way that his brothers can never touch or replicate. He's damaged, he's a soldier whose ultimate causes conflict with one another, he's a king withot a crown, he's an oldest brother. There's a lot of crunch to him.

Why I don’t- I mean, there are the war crimes. Those very much exist. I also don't tend to love the versions of Maedhros that are like...very soft, angsty tormented yet good parent to Elros and Elrond, or absolving him of blame in some cases re: kinslaying. Like. He did that. But that's more fanon than canon.

Favorite line (got rid of the episode/scene ones)- Honestly...'a king is he that can hold his own' is iconic.

Favorite outfit- @nailsinmywall's Mt. Mae is my favorite Look of his.

OTP- I am a scandalous multishipper, so I don't have a favorite!

Brotp- Maedhros & Fingolfin for sure.

Head Canon- Mmmmm. Tricksy. Maedhros is Maglor's favorite brother, I think, but Maedhros' favorites are probably Amrod and Amras.

Unpopular opinion- See part of why I don't like him, I think especially the kidnap fam bit. Like, agh. There was love, it grew like a weed. I do not think he was good at showing it. I do not think they were ready to receive it. You don't love the monster under your bed until years later on when you realize that it was keeping you safe, and when it's gone and you think, oh. I miss that.

A wish- Peace.

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen- Man, what HASN'T happened to him.

5 words to best describe them- tall, fell, driven, damaged, haunted.

My nickname for them- None! I use 'Mae' sometimes on twitter for space reasons, but he is simply Maedhros to me.

Hurin:

Why I like them- See favorite line, see his just. Absolute fucking insane willpower to not crack when Morgoth tortured him and chained him up. He's another really interesting guy, I think, and it is SO funny to me that he's friends with Turgon. I think also that the way his optimism erodes from the Nirn to the time Morgoth releases him is really fucking painful? But it's part of what gets me.

Why I don’t- Not really...a ton of reasons not to? Can't think of anything here.

Favorite line- Surely his 70x 'aure entuluva'

Favorite outfit- A-armor...?

OTP- I REFUSE to take him away from Morwen.

Brotp- Hurin & Turgon, but also I think he probably had at least one thrall friend in Angband.

Head Canon- I don't know that like. The stuff he does after Morgoth releases him is 100% 'thrall of Morgoth' behaviour? Like he does some pretty...fucked up stuff, iirc, but. Nothing that is suggesting outright mind control more than rage and grief at being misled. I think that's a bit more interesting, though way more heart-breaking.

Unpopular opinion- None, probably; I'm not well-versed in Hurin opinions.

A wish- I want him to have had a happy time with Morwen when he found her again, holy shit. Even one single second of joy.

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen- Same as Maedhros, really. What hasn't happened to this dude.

5 words to best describe them- loyal, enduring, grieving, brave, determined

My nickname for them- None! His name's short, he is simply Hurin.

#ask game #hurin #maedhros

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outofangband · 2 years

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I don't think anyone could withstand angband so might it be Hurin actely never really knew the way to Gondolin? Like when the eagles took him there he didn't really pay attention and niether when he left or he just forgot becouse of the pain?

I'm really interested in hearing your opinion on this

Húrin says himself -twice- that he doesn’t know the exact location!

He tells Turgon that he had his eyes closed when he flew in because he was afraid of the heights and later admits to Morwen that he doesn’t know exactly where the gate is

“But you guess, and guess near, I think.” Is her response.

So he doesn’t know the exact location but he knows the general area; more than anyone else outside the city after Huor is killed

Perhaps more importantly he knows a significant amount about the counsels and defenses of Turgon; he’s described as knowing more than any men of the north of the counsels of the Noldor and he spent “nigh a year” living with Turgon.

Which means we have an problem; how did Húrin LATER get so close to the entrance to Gondolin on foot

So many factors make this seem implausible

-the sheer amount of time in between

-changes to the wilderness and the lands around Gondolin

-coming from a different direction than the first time and by foot

-perhaps not considered by Tolkien but the extremely detrimental effect that torture and solidarity confinement has on memory

-potentially hostile encounters; Lorgan might have guessed at Morgoth’s intention in letting Húrin live but not all his allies were that shrewd and even if there were direct orders from MORGOTH to let Húrin pass, there certainly weren’t from the Halidan as evidenced by everything in The Wanderings of Húrin. How did he get so far without being stopped

-the amount of time between Húrin supposedly revealing the general location and Maeglin’s capture and the Fall

And yes, some of these have explanations but it’s still interesting to think about

A very implausible but fun horror idea ? Húrin is infected with something like the fungus Ophiocordyceps camponoti-floridani. In this, carpenter ants find their will taken over completely and leave the safety of the forest floor to climb towards the canopy where they die before the fungus is released

OR if you’ve read or seen The Strain, those infected by the strigoi find themselves compelled to return to places of safety where they wreak havoc. This fits with the fear that elves and humans had of sleeper agents from Morgoth returning

ut ever the Noldor feared most the treachery of their own kin who had been thralls in Angband; for Morgoth used some of them for his evil purposes, and feigning to give them liberty sent them abroad; but their wills were chained to his and they strayed only to come back to him again” (”Of the Ruin of Beleriand”, p188, The Silmarillion)

Anyways I’m rambling here but yeah

There are a lot of inconsistencies in Húrin’s post Angband life and a lot of that is because The Wanderings is unfinished and stuff but it’s still fun to speculate

#the silmarillion #the children of húrin #Húrin #musing and meta

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jee-eun · 2 years

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The Cost of Victory: 04

Thingol was less than pleased to see the state Fingon was left in after his battle with Gothmog. Although he did not outright say anything, it was written on his face and Fingon recoiled at the contempt and judgment he saw there.

“Your highness. I’d get up but,” Fingon gestured to his overall state of being.

“Please, do not aggravate your injuries on my account,” Thingol allowed.

Maedhros resisted the urge to fight the High King of Beleriand.

“I do believe we have much to discuss,” Fingon began, “But first, you must know, Maedhros is to be my regent upon the battlefield for the foreseeable future. I am currently unable to be anything but a liability upon the field right now.”

“I understand,” Thingol nodded, but his face told a different story. Maedhros could hear him wondering to himself why Fingon would trust a kinslayer of all people to lead his people, no matter the circumstances. He seemed to forget that Fingon himself was a kinslayer who slew at Alqualondë.

“I’m sure you want to know who we count among our allies,” Fingon continued, “Among my people are the Ñoldor of Hithlum, Turgon and his people from Gondolin, Gwindor and his people from Nargothrond, some of the Falathrim, the men of Dor-lómin, the men of Brethil, and your two marchwardens and their men. Maedhros commands the Ñoldor of East Beleriand, the Easterlings of the tribe of Bór the Faithful, and a number of the dwarves of Belegost.”

“A great number then,” Thingol said, his face carefully neutral, “With the addition of my people, our numbers should be bolstered. Does Orodreth intend to join with the forces of Nargothrond?”

There it was. Thingol was intending to search for some form of disunity among the Ñoldor, an excuse not to join and to leave the Ñoldor to their folly. He did not understand the true danger of Morgoth and likely would not until it was too late, hiding behind his maia wife.

“Orodreth does intend to join us and is making his way here as we speak,” Maedhros answered neutrally.

“Of course,” Thingol smoothly accepted the new information, “Then we do have other things to discuss. I will not commit my troops to this fight until punishment has been laid upon Celegorm Fëanorian and Curufin Fëanorian for their unjust capture and attempting taking of my daughter.”

“The two have already been stripped of their titles and any benefit they may have. However, they bring a much needed physical presence to the battlefield. I’m afraid any punishment that may be added must wait until after the war is over,” Fingon attempted to appease the king.

Naturally that was when Orodreth entered the tent as well. Maedhros’ headache grew.

“Your highnesses,” Orodreth greeted, “Lord Maedhros.”

They exchanged greetings once more before they returned to the topic of Celegorm and Curufin.

“I will not deny that my brothers deserve further punishment, however, I cannot give you any more than what you want until Thingol answers for the crimes of one of his own,” Maedhros put on his most diplomatic voice.

“What crimes have any of mine done to yours?” Thingol asked, his tone bland but his eyes betrayed his incredulity.

“Your kinsman, Eöl, had captured Aredhel, princess of the Ñoldor, and held her against her will. He married her against her will and forced her to bear a child,” Maedhros stated, “Then he attempted to kill his own child, but killed her instead.”

A dark look crossed Thingol’s face, “Eöl has not been heard from in years, his home and workshop abandoned.”

“Because he is dead, executed at Turgon’s hand,” Maedhros said, “But one of yours has done much worse to one of ours than ours have done to yours.”

Orodreth, who was hearing all of this for the first time, looked upset at hearing the news of a family member’s death but rallied quite well.

“While I do believe that Celegorm and Curufin require punishment, I cannot say that they require harsher punishment for the treatment of Lúthien after hearing what my late cousin has endured by the hands of your kinsman,” Orodreth stated, “The physical punishment proposed for after the war sates me.”

“But not I,” Thingol looked calm but his eyes were murderous, “The two need harsher punishment.”

Just as Maglor had predicted. His friendship with the Lore Master and musician of Doriath, Daeron, had proved very useful throughout the years.

“Then I propose this,” Maedhros began, keeping a watchful eye on Thingol, “I will allow for the banishment of Celegorm and Curufin to the hunt for Morgoth after we take Angband under two conditions. One is that they will be allowed aid from those who wish to give it and two being that I will temporarily be given the silmaril in your possession. I will return the silmaril to you, but the completion of even part of the oath will drive us all towards Morgoth entirely.”

Thingol looked thoughtful, not completely disliking the idea, but not completely open to it either.

“What exactly would this banishment entail?” Thingol asked after a moment of deliberation.

He had already discussed the details with Turgon, Fingon, Maglor, and the two elves in question and they were all in agreement that it was a just punishment but one that the two wrongdoers actually wanted.

“They, and any others who may wish to join them, will hunt Morgoth to the ends of Middle Earth, never giving him a break and never letting him rest. They will hunt evil until either they are released from their duty or they are no longer able to hunt him or they have managed to oust him from this world. Any who join them or choose to give them supplies do so of their own free will and those who join the hunt may leave at any time,” Maedhros stated, “They will never know peace or rest and will be unable to enjoy the material pleasures of life as long as they carry this burden.”

Thingol looked contemplative for another moment.

“I agree to your terms, Fëanorian. I will give you the silmaril and you will return it or this deal is off. My troops will join yours in this march against Morgoth.”

Thingol reached into an inside pocket of his tunic and pulled out a large bundle of cloth and metal. He unwrapped the bundle to reveal a large stone, glowing a bright, brilliant white. A light that hasn’t been seen since the Two Trees were destroyed.

Thingol handed him the stone and he held it for but a second before returning it. It was uncomfortable to hold now, for he had slain, though unmeaning to, at Alqualondë to defend his brother. The silmaril knew that, for it was hallowed by Varda herself. But holding it for one second was enough.

“I, Maedhros Fëanorian, bequeath to you, this silmaril to have and to keep. It is yours and me and my own will not be beholden to our oath to take it from you,” Maedhros spoke as he returned it, the words somehow coming to him, “With Manwë and Varda as my witnesses, hear this Eru, a part of our oath is done.”

The effect was instantaneous. The oath was like a terrible band around him, holding him against his will and turning him into a puppet. It spoke to him, haunted him, corrupted him. It was a dark and evil thing, growing in the back of his mind.

By reclaiming one of the silmarils, a part of it shattered and broke. Its power lessened, part of him broke free of its hold. The voice it spoke to him with quieted and some of the corruption faded. He felt more like himself than he had since Morgoth was released from Mandos.

And now the oath was hellbent on Morgoth himself.

#silm #silm fic #silmarillion #silm au #fix-it #nirnaeth arnoediad #fix-it of sorts #ao3 #maedhros #maglor #turgon #elu thingol #angst #silm angst

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sorrowssinger · 6 years

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feralandfair

Ummmm, It would probably depend on whether or not he challenged Gilgalad for the crown?

... I feel like I should point out that this is Noldorin succession and politics not Sindar, and that no orgies are not part of the succession rituals either.

forgemaiar

|| the rite of succession would have already been official by the time Turgon got there and not everyone would get news of his return at the same time, so it's either Gil stays on the throne or you waste valuable time on messy politics and divide your people's attention when there's kind of a wAR going on, so for sake of ease and safety Turgon would probably still count as ex-king ||

True, I feel like Turgon would just leave Gil-Galad as the High King rather than stir up trouble by announcing his survival at such a delicate point. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d abdicate to Gil-Galad until such time as he decides he no longer wants the crown or he dies than takes the position up again.

#Away from the Fortress || OOC #Also imagining Turgon fighting alongside with the Feanorians makes me happy #like Morgoth was afraid of Turgon #and his minions were afraid of Maedhros #just putting the two of them together would be awesome

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ceescedasticity · 2 years

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hello, I have written some Terrible Things, apologies

perhaps "Ghâsh-bagronk", perhaps a prologue?

(They know, of course, that unhoused spirits are vulnerable to Morgoth.

"Should you be slain, follow the call to the Halls of Waiting, where it is safe," Melian says.

"In spite of the Doom, we <em>must</em> answer the call of Mandos," Fingolfin says.

"If you fall, leave the Oath to the rest of us and follow the call to Mandos," Maedhros tells his brothers, all together and then each individually. "Please."

"Follow the call to the Halls of Mandos," says Turgon, says Finrod, says Thingol, says Círdan, says Caranthir, says Orodreth, says Dior, says Idril, says Gil-galad, says Fingon says Angrod says Aegnor says Maglor says Galadriel says Lalwen says Curufin says Celegorm says Aredhel says Amrod says Amras says Nimloth says Celeborn says Celebrimbor says Oropher says Elrond.

And yet If I can just buy another minute of delay—

And yet Shouldn't I have been called? Did I miss it?

And yet No, fuck him.

And yet Two voices are calling my name, which—?

And yet, and yet, and yet.)

Sometimes orcs throw themselves into the Sea.

It is observed first at the end of the War of Wrath. The herald Eönwë says most emphatically that they should be allowed to do so unhindered, though he does not say why.

It happens most often in the wake of enemy defeats, but now and then otherwise they come, singly or in small groups, and run out into the waves, never looking back until they went under for the last time. As if the whips of their masters were behind them, some say.

As if seeking salvation, others say.

(An Age before the Girdle of Melian is raised, a few of those who will become Marchwardens of Doriath come to the King and Queen with concerns.

They feel there are orcs they have killed more than once. Not as if they're rising up — but they are slain, the bodies are disposed of, and then some time later the same orc will return in a new company.

"What happens to them when they die?" Beleg asks.

"That is hidden from me," says Melian. "But in this matter your fears are my fears."

"Is there nothing that can be done?" asks Elu, for this is the second terrible revelation; the Sindar have already concluded that it is no coincidence to see something like the faces of those lost before the Journey, among the orcs.

"Perhaps if they were brought before me," says Melian.

"Not a risk we can take often," says Elu. "Do not tell the people of this. It would hurt them, to no purpose."

Some few orcs, no more than a half-dozen, are dragged by force before Melian the Queen, and she can give them a chance. But they are most often too angry or afraid to take it, and Melian deems it not worth the risk and the suffering. And of course after the land is fenced it will never happen again.)

Sometimes orcs run away.

Actually orcs run away quite often — from their masters, from prey that outmatches them, from hunters seeking them, from one another when they quarrel.

But sometimes orcs run away from everything. An orc or three will steal away alone and travel leagues in stealth, then find a cave, or a dark and lonely forest, and stay there. Some of them hunt travelers, but many subsist off small animals, even groups of two or more. A tale tells of an orc who lived in a cave in Gondor for two centuries, only coming out at night to steal chickens.

They are still dangerous. They see all living things as their enemy, and if the Dark Lord calls they will answer.

But does it not move one to pity, that even an orc might long for a peaceful life?

(By the Second Age, the theory… is there. Those who care to look can read that orcs were made from elves, those who care to look can read that orcs likely reincarnate as orcs after being slain, and that it is believed that in between their spirits are trapped in something called the "crucible of souls" or the "cesspit of fire".

They will not read that the Wise believe orcs can be made from the captured elven dead. But if they come to that conclusion, there are others who share it. They will be asked not to spread it around. It would upset people, and there is nothing to be done about it but <em>follow the call of Mandos</em>.

"It is not," Galadriel says to Elrond one evening in Imladris, "that being trapped in endless reincarnations as an orc is so much worse than all the other atrocities Morgoth and Sauron might visit upon the houseless. It is simply so glaring and obvious that it is an ongoing atrocity, that even if it is not happening to someone you care about it is certainly happening to someone, many someones."

Elrond sighs agreement. She wonders if he's thinking of Maedhros.)

#tolkien #orc bank #Arda etc

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valacirya · 3 years

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I don’t really understand why so many fics portray Turgon as this isolated, stoic, unpopular person who’s distant from his siblings? Like, the guy convinced a third of the Noldor and even more Sindar to follow him to the middle of nowhere based on a dream; he was clearly Aredhel’s favorite brother; it's strongly implied that he was Fingolfin's favorite as well; he had the good will of both Manwe and Ulmo; and fricking Morgoth was afraid of him!

Of course he had some glaring faults (e.g. taking his infant daughter across the Helcaraxe, turning Hurin away, not listening to Ulmo or Idril or the other lords' advice), but overall, he's a much more positive and influential character than the fandom makes him out to be.

#turgon

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absynthe--minded · 3 years

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What do you think Hurin’s relationship with Idril and Turgon was? You’ve said they weren’t close but I am interested to see how Húrin’s later ask to come back to gondolin is rejected was received in Gondolin especially since Tuor was there, like Tuor was robbed of the one moment he ever may have had to meet the last person on earth who ever knew his biological father and mother. Or to ask what his name meant, since it’s untranslated taliska (*I think)

Plus, earendil wanted to be a man, like human, how did his parents take that? Or what was Tuor opinion on his much more important and beloved (culturally by other men) cousin, the fatally cursed Túrin Turambar? It must be a crushing shadow to live under: well, maybe not in Valinor but middle earth men seem to like him a lot, even Rohan had a queen named Morwen.

Sorry this is long. I like your work. It’s well written! 🤍

Thank you! Thank you! fuck I'm so excited for this question

okay, have a slightly disorganized answer, because I'm gonna try and tackle all of these points sort of in the order you raised them

I think Idril and Turgon got along fine with Húrin. Like I said before it's hard for him to consider himself smitten with Gondolin the way Huor (who in my headcanons always dreamed of a world without war) is, because he's got a woman he loves waiting for him back home, and a series of duties he can't ignore. He's significantly more practical than his brother in that regard. He was loyal to Turgon but more personally loyal to Fingon, who called him friend; his affection for the King of Ondolindë was more because he was fond of said King's older brother. Still, he never deserted anyone he called friend, which is why he held out so long as he did under torture and earned himself a curse. (Side note, but the Grey Annals has this great exchange between Húrin and Morgoth where Húrin tells the Dark Enemy of the World "you're a weakass piece of shit, you couldn't successfully torture my nine-year-old", and just. the balls on that man. holy fuck.)

In my opinion, Turukáno rejected Húrin because he was afraid that helping Húrin would lead to Gondolin being discovered. He acted out of cowardice, and I think he kind of hated himself for it. I don't think Tuor knew, truly, about Turukáno's decision - I think he heard the cry, and he heard vague rumors about what it might have meant, but he would have been busy establishing the House of the Wing for his looming wedding to Idril, and we also don't know if Turukáno told anybody of what he knew regarding Húrin seeking entry. I think that had Idril and Tuor known about it with any certainty (Idril's prophecies and eyes aren't omniscient and all-seeing) they would have taken action regardless of what the King said or didn't say, and I also think that probably Aldaron and Laurëfindil and Aegthel went looking for Húrin some time later but he'd already departed. The thing is that it hurts - Tuor was robbed of the last person on Earth who might have given him any information about his people, his parents, the culture of Dor-lómin and his Bëorian heritage. At least Túrin got to hear about Beren, and got to grow up for a while with both his mom and dad, and got to go to Nargothrond with its long-standing cultural ties to the House of Bëor. Tuor didn't even have any connection to the language that was used in his name. You're right that it's untranslated Taliska, though 'Tuor' is a Sindarinization - it's actually something like 'Tughor', I think, though I might be wrong.

That being said I think Tuor is happy. He's like his parents - he's a dreamer, he's gentle, he's kind, and on top of that despite his traumas he found joy and peace and a purpose beyond lost family ties and missing cultural heritage. I think he's really okay with how his life turned out, because he has a wife and a son and a family, and Turukáno is said to see him as a son too.

Plus, I think he was very happy about the fact that Eärendil was proud of his humanity, and I think Eärendil was very excited to tell his parents and anyone who listened that he would grow up to be a Man. We don't know how Idril felt, really, but tbh I can't see her resenting her son for this when she willingly wed a mortal knowing he would age and die and she would outlive him - she doesn't seem to resent him at all, or curse fate, and Tuor isn't consumed by doubt and misery either.

Re: Túrin - I think Tuor, if he had the opportunity, would be angry that his cousin had such a miserable life, and suffered as he did, and was robbed of happiness and peace. I think he'd be furious on his kinsman's behalf, and offer to fight alongside Túrin should Morgoth need curbstomping again. As to legacy, though - Túrin is an important figure to later Men, standing against the darkness in a uniquely Mannish way and doing things that are meaningful in later Ages, and it's almost as if he had a shitty life but a splendid death, as opposed to Tuor, who had a rough life that became wonderful and then quietly dropped out of history never to be seen again, coming to an uncertain end. If you were to ask him, I don't think he'd see his lot as unfair, because it's not fair that someone like Túrin be shouldered with such a curse.

#replies #anon replies #tolkien #absynthe's headcanons

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chrissystriped · 3 years

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TolkienOCWeek Day 6: Forgotten Characters

Rog was taken out of the published Silmarillion because Christopher Tolkien thought his father would have changed the name, had he revised the story (which I think likely).

I headcanon Rog as an Avar and an escapee from Angband. After his escape, he didn't run far but hunted the orcs in the Iron Mountains, who called him Rog - demon - because they were afraid of him. When the Noldor came to Beleriand, he met Turgon and joined him to fight Morgoth.

Title: Unsummoned and unlooked for

Rating: G

Characters: Rog & Turgon

Summary: Rog has heard about the Union of Maedhros and confronts Turgon about not telling them.

Read on AO3

@tolkienocweek

#tolkienocweek #rog #turgon #silmarillion #fall of gondolin #tolkien #fanfiction #my writing

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maglors-anion-gap · 3 years

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Oh I’m so glad you mentioned the connections to Tulkas because that’s been on my mind for awhile now

Tulkas and Húrin both:

Are golden haired

Their names both mean the same thing (steadfast)

They both have alternate names meaning the same thing (Tulkas is called Poldórëa, Húrin is called Thalion)

They both laugh at and defy Melkor

They’ve both been captives of Melkor (Tulkas for a very short amount of time but still)

They both have loved ones likened to deer (Tulkas is married to Nessa, a deer deity, and Niënor is frequently likened to a doe)

They’re both warriors

(The only glaring difference besides their different species is while Tulkas is apparently of “no avail as a councilor”, Húrin is highly skilled in politics as well as combat)

-@outofangband

[regarding this ask game]

@outofangband

because this is part of a thread, for some housekeeping for my other followers, here are the links to the initial post about Fingon, which is followed by this post about Húrin, and the following response about Húrin and Turgon.

These are some grade A parallels here, I love it. And really, it says a Lot that the characters who have fortitude in a hopeful way (estel?) are the ones who come the closest to besting Morgoth or at least humiliating him in some fashion (the exception here being Fingolfin; my boy stabbed Morgoth out of sheer suicidal rage). But yeah, Tulkas is known not just for his feats of strength but also for his Laughter, iirc. Húrin shouts aure entuluva seventy times before he is carted away (while still hacking at his captors). Fingon has enough hope to believe he can force the gates of Angband - and he nearly succeeds!

Love that bolt reference tho bc i have Not done enough digging to understand it in full but I was absolutely living for your breakdown of how the other valar basically giftwrap tulkas for melkor ... gives me lots to think about, especially in conjunction with this other post i saw floating around abt a comparison of manwe's cruelty with melkor's and how they really are like brothers in many regards...

to further my bolt comparison, interesting that manwe is willing to sacrifice tulkas (even temporarily) to bring down melkor and turgon is willing to let the edain sacrifice themselves for his escape. And I don't say that to like, throw shade at manwe or turgon. one could make a strong case for "greatest good" style martial strategy - but. .. idk. kinda interests me how turgon is not particularly willing to let hurin back into gondolin after his sabbatical in angband... like he doesn't want to look at the man he abandoned (not entirely charitable of me, hurin made a decision out of hope and love, but still). And I get turgon being afraid of like, morgoth's hold over his captives, but it's the irony of ironies that turning hurin away, not taking him in, is what reveals gondolin's general location to morgoth. Something something radical love...

good luck sorting through this for any sort of coherent message! <3

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fuckingfinwions · 3 years

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About the guards: Maedhros chose people who he knew wouldn’t make a fuss about Fingon’s treatment, so in a way, yes, he did select guards with sadistic impulses, though he wouldn’t put it that way. He’d say he chose reliable people. They are pissed because 1) Fingon came for Maedhros but no one came for them, 2) Maedhros killed their friend because Fingon lied about him. Neither is exactly Fingon’s fault, but who cares?

Maedhros would never admit it, but sometimes he pretends not to notice the unnecessary cruelty of the guards because then he can appear kinder to Fingon and condition him to develop a dependency from Maedhros (poor Fingon does need to google how not to develop Stockholm Syndrome). Fingon is smart enough to realize this, but it doesn’t help him at all. Not when he’s lying frozen and in pain after a rough treatment from the guards, who tell Maedhros that Fingon was misbehaving and that’s why they did that, and Fingon is terrified that Maedhros will punish him too as he usually does and repeats over and over again that he didn’t do it, then Maedhros tells him ‘I know’, treats his wounds, wraps him up in warm furs and blankets and holds him in a way he knows makes Fingon feel comforted and safe. (And then fucks him gently, which Fingon doesn’t want, of course, but also doesn’t protest because he’s afraid to anger Maedhros and end the pretense of kindness.)

Things will definitely keep getting worse for Fingon. After another escape attempt, Maedhros may decide that Fingon can live with a broken leg or two. If he tries to hit Maedhros or to fight back, he will have a broken finger, then two, then his hand may be broken. If he’s strong enough to fight, maybe he’s getting more food and water than he needs? Maybe he has no need to lie down when Maedhros isn’t there to fuck him and instead should be chained to the wall the whole time? If only he was good, Maedhros would be kinder to him, but Fingon is doing this all to himself by not obeying Maedhros’s every whim and not being grateful enough that Maedhros treats him the way he does. Maedhros would have killed for someone to treat him the way he treats Fingon when he was Morgoth’s prisoner. Clearly, Fingon is just spoiled.

I imagine him finally escaping and running through wilderness, covered in nothing but a blanket, constantly terrified that he will be found and dragged back again. Then he finally reaches Dorthonion, where he’s treated like a person, where he gets to wear clothes and sleep in a warm bed for the first time in decades. But he still doesn’t feel safe, he still feels like any minute the door will open and Maedhros will come in. And then imagine the huge relief he feels when he finally sees his father.

Omg, Fingon thinking that Fingolfin might send him back! Ouch, that’s painful! I don’t think Fingolfin would ever do that, but realistically he might be forced to let Maedhros go unpunished because they still have Morgoth to fight and he can’t afford to lose a huge chunk of his forces. So they can’t even tell anyone what Maedhros has done because it would still create a divide. So what are they going to do? The most believable version is that Fingon has been captured by Morgoth and escaped, but then he is going to be distrusted and ostracized as a former thrall. People are going to demand to remove him from the line of succession, maybe even lock him up. Fingolfin won’t do it, but the threat is still there.

Maedhros would have to sit at war councils and Fingon would have to bear his presence and pretend (probably very badly) everything’s fine. And if Maedhros slips into his chamber one night, Fingon can’t make a fuss, he doesn’t want to divide the Noldor again, does he? Though Fingolfin probably wouldn’t hold back from killing Maedhros this time if he knew he raped his son under his own roof. (A slightly darker and more coldly pragmatic Fingolfin would tell Fingon to endure it for the sake of the Noldor. He isn’t going to send Fingon back to Maedhros, so Fingon can do him a favor and shut up and take it once in a while.)

You’re right, Fingon isn’t the type to stay in his place while others are fighting for him, so he might very well be at the siege of Himring. Him trapped in the fortress with Maedhros is the stuff of nightmares! He will be very well-protected, of course, Fingolfin won’t want him alone even for a second, but he would still feel exposed and Maedhros would still try to corner him alone.

Maedhros’s brothers would certainly come to his aid against Fingolfin. Even if they found out what Maedhros did, they would at best be like ‘what the fuck, man, that’s fucked up’, but still support him.

Outofangband’s dark Turgon AU sounds super interesting. He already dislikes the Feanorians in canon, make him slightly darker and he could do monstrous things to them.

Thank you so much for letting me ramble. If you want me to stop, just tell me and I will. No hard feelings.

This is just amazing, nonny. I've been trying all week to think of as good a reply as it deserves.

I'm not surprised that selecting for guards who will keep a sex slave secret also ends up selecting sadistic assholes. Them using Fingon's accusation and the other guard's death as a justification for their actions (including possibly retroactively, I doubt they were kind before that) is great.

Oh wow, the list of "privileges" Maedhros thinks Fingon can do without. Presumably he'll let Fingon's leg heal, if Fingon behaves. If Fingon doesn't behave, I wonder if he could be tied up such that his leg heals crooked and he can't run fast. (Downside: that would make him less pretty.)

The thing about not needing so much energy if he's going to use it to fight is also great. Maybe he's fed just enough to stay alive most days. But when the guards see a rider approaching from Himring, that's their cue to give Fingon a bit more food, especially simple carbs that will give him energy quickly. That way he can be more "enthusiastic" during sex rather than just lying there limply. (To be clear, the guards aren't hiding their neglect from Maedhros. He totally ordered them to do this.) Most days though, he has just enough energy to stay upright, and not choke in his collar that's chained to the wall. (Maedhros learned the lesson from his own rescue, of don't chain them by a body part whose loss is survivable.)

On the days Maedhros visits, Fingon has enough energy to move around, and to talk, and to think about something other than how hungry he is. Maedhros has him in a bed, with soft blankets, and cuddles him so they're both warm. It's the best part of Fingon's - week? month? he has no way of keeping track of days - even with the unwanted sex. Fingon knows it's rape, but Maedhros is gentle, and makes sure it's pleasurable for them both, and over time such a harsh word doesn't seem to fit.

The escape! Traveling for miles wrapped in nothing but a blanket, his feet getting torn up, only focused on that he needs to go West. And wow, yeah, not feeling safe until he sees his father, and he can relax and know that someone will take care of him and mean it this time.

Also, all the healers who have the most expertise with injuries from captivity are the ones who helped when Maedhros was rescued. If they get the "escaped from Morgoth" story, they might reassure Fingon with telling him how his friend Maedhros was able to make a full recovery, isn't that good? That Fingon will be so physically strong? (arms pinning him down, a hand around his throat-) That Fingon is no more corrupted than Maedhros is?

I bet after the former thrall story gets out, someone sympathetic to Fingon pulls him aside after a court session. "I obviously don't believe the rumors about you being controlled. But they might die down if you let town for a while, let everyone find something new to gossip about. They say Himring welcomes former thralls, you wouldn't have to deal with all this suspicion there." Fingon just barely avoids vomiting at the suggestion.

I think Maedhros would be too smart to rape Fingon under Fingolfin's roof? He might act like they just had an argument and are on a break, but he wouldn't physically force Fingon when he knows Fingon could get away. He wouldn't be above bribing one of the servants to let him in to Fingon's room for a private discussion though, and kissing Fingon while Fingon is still too shocked to react. (although that coldly pragmatic Fingolfin would be so terrible for Fingon. Maybe he heard that Fingon had been raped in his room, and said "You can move to a different room if you think that will keep him from finding you, but please come up with a good excuse for why you're doing so."

I'm picturing Fingolfin and Fingon going to attack Maedhros. Then they're attacked by Morogth and has to retreat into Himring. Things are tense, but Fingolfin makes it clear to Fingon that any judgement against Maedhros is only delayed, not avoided.

Then word comes that there's the banners of another elven host on the far side of the besieging orcs. And it's Himlad, with Clegorm and Curufin.

Fingolfin stops talking about bringing Maedhros to justice. He still reassures Fingon that he'll be safe, Fingolin won't let anyone touch him, there's guards loyal only to Fingolfin on his door at all times. They'll be able to leave Himring soon, and Fingon will never have to see Maedhros again, or come back to this corrupted place.

But they both know that killing Maedhros is not likely to happen, no matter how much he deserves it.

#fucking finwions answers #fingon/maedhros strangulation au

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aipilosse · 4 years

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Prophetic Tears

For @finweanladiesweek, Day 4: Later generations

Summary: Idril Celebrindal’s life with a Cassandra twist

Idril felt like her fear was closing in on her, shrinking her world until it was like looking out from a deep tunnel. She finally told her mother, feeling foolish; she was thirty years old, practically an adult. After she tearfully told Elenwë of her waking visions of darkness swallowing them both, the ground opening and icy spears springing out, her mother had taken her a few paces away from the main group to help her talk through her fears.

Elenwë walked with her on the ice, gripping her hand.

“I will not say there is no reason to fear, for we travel to a land of great peril. But your father and I will always protect you, and teach you to protect yourself.”

“Amil, it’s not monsters I’m afraid of.”

Elenwë stopped and looked at her, her brow creased.

A loud crack rang through the air, and the next moment Idril was immersed in water so cold it felt like burning.

At first, she kept trying to warn others when dread slithered into her mind. They looked at her in pity.

“It’s no wonder she sees danger everywhere she looks, after Elenwë died the way she did.” She read the sentiment in their looks, and heard it whispered when they thought she could not hear.

When her father confided in her, and told her of his plans for Gondolin, a hidden city, safe from the danger and darkness of Beleriand, she determined that she would be a beacon of light for all who dwelt there. She would leave her darkness behind in Nevrast.

The feeling of foreboding still pressed on her sometimes, even before Gondolin was complete.

When she heard where Penlod was building his house, she immediately wanted to leap out of her seat and scream, “No, not there!”

That was foolishness though; the plot of land was a fine spot, in a south central part of the planned city that would be near both the largest market square and the palace.

“That’s a wonderful location!” Turgon said. “I wish you all the best.”

Idril bit her tongue - the shining city was no place for her dark thoughts.

She knew before there was the knock at the door of their temporary residence that something terrible had happened.

The messenger was out of breath and wild eyed.

“A sink hole! It opened right beneath Penlod’s house!”

Penlod would always walk with a limp after the accident. Far worse by far was the death of his son, crushed in the rubble. It was the first death in Gondolin, and reminded them all that while they may be hidden from the eyes of Morgoth, tragedy could never be outrun.

Idril told herself it was a coincidence - if she saw misfortune everywhere, it was only a matter of time until she was right by happenstance.

When her aunt announced her intention to visit Fingon, her heart began to pound in her ears so loudly she thought the rest of the room must hear it. She clenched her fists in her skirt to stop her hands from shaking and schooled her face.

She must not have masked her fear fully, because Aredhel tried to comfort her.

“Fear not! I travel with three valiant escorts and have no small skill in arms myself. I shall only be gone a few seasons, you will hardly miss me before I return.”

It’s almost one hundred years until she sees her aunt again.

At least with Aredhel, she knows no warning of hers would have been heeded.

The night before Aredhel and Maeglin return to Gondolin, Idril could not sleep at all. She tried hot tea, reading, and meditation, but the sick feeling in her stomach kept her awake.

When she saw the familiar figure of her aunt, she told herself that this should be the final evidence that proved her disquiet was not to be trusted. She should be full of joy.

She also now had a cousin; that should be a happy occasion. But when her cousin’s gaze fell upon her, something troubled her, although she couldn’t voice her misgivings at the time.

With Aredhel safely back, there was no reason to go running to the guards and demand they close the city. There was no reason at all to sharpen the blade that she now kept in a ceremonial case.

After Eöl attempted to kill Maeglin, she knew she could no longer keep her forebodings to herself. Darkness had come to their blissful city without any help from her.

She begged Turgon not to kill Eöl. Deep in her heart, she knew death would beget death, however just it might seem to end Eöl’s life. Unfortunately, speaking does not guarantee that you will be heard.

Her father bears the moniker The Wise, but he is as deaf as his sister when it comes to leaving Gondolin. Idril laid out the inevitable outcome, first gently, and then more forcefully. As the shining host made ready to depart, she looked with dread on all the familiar faces she knew would not return. When her father left to fight beside his brother (one last time), she governed in his absence by day. When her duties were finished, she grieved. She knew there would be no time for her own grief when Turgon returned.

Idril had no warning when Tuor came to Gondolin, she didn’t know that he was coming until he bowed before them at the Tower of the King. Afterwards, there was murmuring in the streets. He came with the blessing of Ulmo, but who needed the blessing of a God other than the doomed?

Turgon was pensive after he listened to Tuor’s message. He at least heard Tuor and discussed the matter with his council, even if he chose to ignore the message. Idril envied Tuor’s ability to be the messenger of God with fewer doubters than plagued her.

As her father was clouded with doubt, and whispers of doom began to run through the city, Idril had to laugh. She knew Tuor was no harbinger of their downfall - they had sealed their downfall long ago.

All wisdom would say she was a fool. Tuor was mortal, loving him was choosing inevitable grief. But when she looked at Tuor, she has no dark fears. When Tuor smiled at her, she felt like she could breath again.

As she gazed at her son Eärendil, she saw the light of heaven in his face and the heavenly light he would be to all. She knew she could no longer keep her fears to herself. It was also not enough to be the voice of warning. It was time to act - the only way to avoid the worst was to create the path out of the dark cloud surrounding Gondolin herself.

She summoned the best and most discreet builders she knew, and counted herself among them. She needed no permission, and her way was certain. Idril would lead the escape; it was the only way to save some part of her people.

#@finweanladiesweek #idril celebrindal #my fic

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sweetteaanddragons · 4 years

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How to Train Your (Evil) Dragon

A/N: I’d been wanting to write this for a while, and the five sentence prompt I recently wrote finally pushed me over the edge. Definite thanks is owed to the actual HtTYD.

Also, fair warning, this gets progressively crackier as it goes on.

. . .

Dear Mother,

Someday, I’ll find a way to actually send these to you.

In the meantime, interesting news continues to accumulate! We ran into an exciting new creature on patrol this morning that looked something like a lizard, if a lizard happened to be the size of a horse. I’d include a sketch, but I’m afraid my drawing skills are as dismal as you remember.

My skills with the sword, however, are better than ever - I was able to drive the beast off before anyone was more than slightly injured! I think it may lose one leg entirely. Unfortunately, our pursuit failed, and I was not able to finish it off, but there is another patrol planned for tomorrow; perhaps I can find it then.

There is still no news from Turgon and Aredhel, but as I recently assured Father, that is no reason to fear the worst. If the worst had come to past, surely the Enemy would have found some way to taunt us with it.

I wish dearly that Father would let me go in search of them, but he insists he needs me here. I confess, I feel better keeping him in sight as well -

In better news, Maedhros’s letter has arrived after all; later than I expected, but the news in it is good, and my fears are much allayed. We are holding the line, and that’s the most important thing.

I hope you don’t worry too much.

All my love,

Fingon

. . .

Dear Mother,

I have found the beast! A minor rockfall down by the river pinned its tail and has kept it trapped. When I found it, it had given up hope of pulling itself free and was sulking about it. It looked rather more like a cat than anything else, and I almost laughed.

. . . Which brings us to my next point.

It just looked so helpless, lying there like that, and I’d gotten a bit separated from the rest of the patrol - don’t look at me like that, I was perfectly safe - and it just felt, well, wrong to kill it. When else will we have an opportunity like this, to see if we can save one of the beasts Morgoth has corrupted? Don’t I have a duty to try?

And no, before you ask, this has nothing to do with the whispers I’ve been hearing about thralls -

I promise this will end better than the bear cub I brought home in Aman. And the fox. And that hawk.

This time, everything will work out perfectly.

I’ve started by feeding it fish.

All my love,

Fingon

. . .

Dear Mother,

Day Three of my new project! I am now almost certain that my new friend is male, and he has stopped hissing at me when I approach. Admittedly, this is probably because I continue to bring him fish, but still: progress!

Between the need to actually fish for the fish, for lack of a better phrase, and my attempts to train the horse-lizard (definitely need a better phrase), this has been taking up a larger portion of my time than is easy to conceal from Father. He has been starting to make jokes that are not actually jokes about my riding off into the unknown like Turgon. I’m not sure what to tell him. I want to be further into my project before I try to sell him on it.

So I tried to drop hints that I was actually sneaking away to have the kind of assignations that might eventually end in grandchildren, which successfully distracted him.

If this continues long enough, I might actually have to find a baby somewhere.

I can picture you laughing at me. I wish you were here.

I will try to come up with a better name than lizard-horse soon. I also need a name for this specific lizard-horse, which I admit is harder than I thought it would be. Maybe I can come up with a sneaky way to ask Maedhros to ask Maglor. Celegorm might also be of some help - with the training, not the naming - but I’m pretty sure he still isn’t speaking with me. According to Maedhros, this is because the last time they met, Aredhel wasn’t speaking to him, so now that she’s disappeared, I have to fill in as a proxy.

No, it doesn’t make sense to me either.

All my love,

Fingon

. . .

Dear Mother,

Day 12 of my project! I am spared of calling my new friend a horse-lizard by the wit of one of the people who was on patrol with me; she has taken to calling it a dragon, and I like the sound of it so well that I’ve decided to adopt it. My particular dragon I have decided to call Glaurung.

He gave me a bit of a fright today when he unexpectedly breathed out sparks while I was doing my best to mend his leg, but there was no true harm done, and I think he looked a bit sorry afterwards. He is beginning to look genuinely happy to see me when I come, and I harbor some small, probably foolish, hope that it’s not just excitement for the fish.

Father has begun to poke around to try to find out just who I’m having assignations with; I might actually have to start courting someone to satisfy him.

Or I could come clean, I suppose, but my other idea sounds easier. No luck finding a suitable and available baby to claim so far, but my efforts continue unabated!

All my love,

Fingon

. . .

Dear Mother,

Glaurung can talk! He said his very first word today! It was “fish.” I am very proud and am now attempting to get him to say my name. The first letters are the same; how hard could it be?

I stay longer and longer to sit and talk with him now. Hopefully it will help him learn to speak. Once he can actually hold a conversation, I feel I can present him to Father.

I’m more hesitant than ever to do so before I can be sure how Father will react. He would be perfectly right to be cautious, of course, but I hate the thought of having to see Glaurung dead. I feel responsible for him now, and I want to protect him if I can, as ridiculous as that may seem directed towards a being that successfully started a fire for me yesterday.

In other news, Glaurung apparently now prefers his fish cooked.

All my love,

Fingon

. . .

Dear Mother,

I have finally freed Glaurung from where his tail was pinned. I confess I had some lingering fear that he would attack or at least wander off, but now that I see the damage, that concern has lessened greatly. He will need a good deal of help before he is ready to do that.

Please don’t worry. I’m being very careful, I promise.

In unrelated news, I discovered dragons can purr if you pet them just exactly right.

All my love,

Fingon

. . .

Dear Mother,

Glaurung did a bad thing today.

He has been growing at an incredible rate, and I’m afraid my fishing skills are struggling to keep up with him. Today he wanted more fish when all I had left was the one I had intended for my own lunch. When I told him no, the strangest look came over his eyes, and suddenly I found myself bringing him the fish anyway despite my intention.

Fortunately, I snapped out of it before I could actually give him the fish, and I suppose no great harm would have come of it even I had, but the incident still alarms me. His fire is getting stronger. What if this does too?

Well, hopefully I can train it out of him. Immediately after I snapped out of it, I poured the bucket of water I’d brought him over his nose, and he reacted exactly as a cat would, sputtering and indignant, so that will be my new strategy: All misbehavior will be greeted with a liberal application of water. Perhaps I’ll see if one of the artisans can create something a little more manageable for the task than a bucket.

On the bright side, his language skills are improving! He asked for that fish in a full sentence. I’m very proud. Is this what parenting feels like?

Meanwhile, I think Father has questioned every eligible Noldorin woman in Hithlum. Presumably he’ll move on to the Sindar next; I don’t know what he’ll do when he runs out of those.

Possibly I should have come up with a different excuse.

Maedhros’s next letter has arrived, by the way. I referred to my project very discreetly in my last to him, but apparently it was not discreet enough, because he sounded rather alarmed. I’m torn between telling him the whole truth and obfuscating so he doesn’t feel the need to lie to Father on my behalf.

I’ll just tell him I’ve gotten a cat. A very large cat. That breathes fire.

Maybe not that last part.

All my love,

Fingon

. . .

Dear Mother,

I now have a special bottle that sprays water when I push a little trigger at the top. I like it very much, and after extensive and absolutely necessary practice on various rocks, I have taken to carrying it with me when I go see Glaurung. Unfortunately, this has proven necessary. Twice more he has attempted that eye trick, both times in attempts to get more fish, but after the last attempt he seemed resigned to failure. I also take heart from the fact that he is now fully healed and could easily leave to survive on his own, but instead he has stayed here, seemingly perfectly content to stay with me. In fact, I’ve had to use the spray bottle once or twice to keep him from following me back to the fort.

(I am getting increasingly tempted to use the spray bottle on Father whenever he brings up the woman I am supposedly seeing, but I doubt I would find as good a result. In hindsight, I really should have found a different excuse to use.)

In cheerier news, I can have full conversations with Glaurung now! His own contributions remain simple, but he is improving greatly.

I also have a confession to make: I told you that I was teaching him to speak. I did not tell you that I was teaching him Quenya.

Keeping that secret from you of all people was spectacularly pointless, I know, seeing as you aren’t actually reading these, but I was afraid to commit the words to paper in case these were ever found.

You have to understand, it just seemed so natural! I was alone, doing something secret, so naturally I would use -

Well. I suppose when Father finds out, the sticking point about the dragon will probably not be what language he speaks. On the other hand, when Thingol finds out . . .

Maybe I should start teaching him Sindarin.

All my love,

Fingon

. . .

Dear Mother,

I have a baby!

Admittedly, I’m increasingly concerned about the provenance of said baby, but Caranthir’s not talking, and Father’s already seen the baby, so it’s too late to back out now.

. . . Though maybe I should back up just a little.

You see, a few letters ago, I’d mentioned to Maedhros that I needed a baby, mostly because I was too tired to think about what I was writing, and then the messenger took it before I could -

Anyway. Maedhros, being the supportive cousin that he is - and also, notably, having survived Feanor’s determination to have 49 grandchildren at minimum - assumed that I had legitimate reasons to want said baby: Namely, Father pressuring me to get to work preserving the line of Finwe by providing more heirs.

Which shouldn’t be necessary but given that we still don’t know what happened to Turgon, Aredhel, and little Idril -

Which, to be fair to Maedhros, was much more sensible than what was actually going on.

In my defense, I didn’t actually expect Maedhros to - to do whatever it is he did. I thought he would commiserate a little, maybe, and that would be the end of it.

But no. Caranthir is here with the horses he wants to trade for some of our stock, and he brought with him the tiniest, most perfect baby I’ve ever seen.

I’m going to call him Gil-Galad.

I know, I know! I shouldn’t be naming the baby before I’m sure I’ll get to keep him, and I shouldn’t decide I’m going to keep him before I can get Caranthir to cough up more than, “Don’t worry about it,” when I ask where he came from.

But Caranthir managed to smuggled the baby into my arms right before Father walked in, saw it, and jumped to the obvious conclusion, so if I do end up having to give the baby up, I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do.

Actually, I already have a lot of explaining to do because I might have panicked a little bit when Father saw me with the baby.

And by ‘panicked a little bit,’ I mean that when he said, “You have a baby?” I may have, possibly, blurted out, “I also have a dragon.”

So, as I write, Father’s getting kitted up to go meet said dragon.

Do you think Gil-Galah’s too young to come along?

All my love,

Fingon

#fingon #glaurung #dragon #fic #first age #silmarillion #alternate universe #alternate universe canon divergence #maedhros #caranthir #sons of feanor #fingolfin #epistolary #anaire #this either ends wonderfully or horribly #I'm not sure which

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