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ardafanonarch · 3 months

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Hi omg I love this thank you for doing it! I have seen a lot about what named sword did or didn't or might have belonged to whom - do we actually know the names of any First Age swords and who wielded them? (other than Eol's cursed pair).

Thank you!

[Anon, this one got so long that I have divided it into 3 parts so people can navigate more easily to weapons that most interest them. Thanks so much for sending this ask, I went down many rabbit holes researching and learned some new things myself.]

The Iron Gang: Anglachel-Gurthang, Anguirel, Angrist

Swords of the First Age, Part 1 of 3

Anglachel

Meaning: Uncertain. Possibly a combination of ang “iron”, lach “flame” and êl “star” (Eldamo). Sindarin.

Maker: Eöl

Owned/wielded by: Eöl, Thingol, Beleg, (Gwindor), Túrin

Notable for: forged from meteoritic iron; given as fee to Thingol for leave to dwell in Nan Elmoth; slaying Beleg

Fate: Reforged in Nargothrond as Gurthang

Then Beleg chose Anglachel; and that was a sword of great worth, and it was so named because it was made of iron that fell from heaven as a blazing star; it would cleave all earth-delved iron. One other sword only in Middle-earth was like to it. That sword does not enter into this tale, though it was made of the same ore by the same smith; and that smith was Eöl the Dark Elf, who took Aredhel Turgon’s sister to wife. He gave Anglachel to Thingol as fee, which he begrudged, for leave to dwell in Nan Elmoth; but its mate Anguirel he kept, until it was stolen from him by Maeglin, his son. The Silmarillion, ‘Of Túrin Turambar’

Discussion

Anglachel and its mate Anguirel are remarkable weapons. Not only because they were forged from “star iron”, against which the mere iron ores of Earth were no match, but also — certainly in the case of Anglachel and probably likewise with Anguirel — they seem to have possessed a sort of dark power, even sentience.

When Thingol gives Anglachel to Beleg, Melian says:

‘There is malice in this sword. The dark heart of the smith still dwells in it. It will not love the hand it serves; neither will it abide with you long.’

Melian’s words, as usual, prove prescient: Anglachel goes on to be the instrument of Beleg’s demise, wielded against him by Túrin as Beleg attempts to cut the fetters holding his friend captive. Gwindor then briefly carries Anglachel, until he and Túrin come to the Pool of Ivrin and Túrin is released of the madness of his grief over Beleg. Túrin notes that the blade has blackened and become blunt, and Gwindor remarks:

‘This is a strange blade, and unlike any that I have seen in Middle-earth. It mourns for Beleg even as you do.’ The Children of Húrin, Chapter 9: Death of Beleg

The implication seems to be that Anglachel has weathered unnaturally after losing its master.

Presumably because of this damage, Anglachel is reforged in Nargothrond. We do not know who specifically reforged the swords, but it is popular fanon that Celebrimbor, who remained in Nargothrond following his father’s expulsion, may have been involved. After reforging, Anglachel becomes Gurthang.

Gurthang (Anglachel reforged)

Meaning: Iron of Death. Sindarin.

Maker: Eöl, reforged by smiths of Nargothrond

Owned/wielded by: Túrin

Notable for: slaying Glaurung, Brandir, Túrin

Fate: Broken under Túrin’s body in his suicide. Shards buried with him.

The sword Anglachel was forged anew for him by the cunning smiths of Nargothrond, and though ever black its edges shone with pale fire. The Silmarillion, ‘Of Túrin Turambar’ Then they lifted up Túrin, and saw that his sword was broken asunder. So passed all that he possessed. The Children of Húrin, Chapter 13: The Death of Túrin

Discussion

Anglachel’s seeming-sentience is amplified by its reforging as Gurthang. In this incarnation, the weapon frequently flickers and flames as if it houses a fire of its own. Most notably, when Túrin prepares to take his own life, Gurthang speaks:

Then he drew forth his sword, and said: 'Hail Gurthang, iron of death, you alone now remain! But what lord or loyalty do you know, save the hand that wields you? From no blood will you shrink. Will you take Túrin Turambar? Will you slay me swiftly?' And from the blade rang a cold voice in answer: 'Yes, I will drink your blood, that I may forget the blood of Beleg my master, and the blood of Brandir slain unjustly. I will slay you swiftly.' Then Túrin set the hilts upon the ground, and cast himself upon the point of Gurthang, and the black blade took his life. The Children of Húrin, Chapter 13: The Death of Túrin

A Tangent: The Enigma of the Sentient Sword

There is no explanation in the legendarium for why or how Gurthang speaks, but a speaking sword is an enduring feature of Túrin’s story that goes all the way back to the earliest version, Turambar and the Foalókë (c. 1917-19, published in The History of Middle-earth Vol. 2: The Book of Lost Tales Part Two). So why did Gurthang speak, and why was this feature so dear to Tolkien? Well, here’s a passage on the death of the hero of the Tale of Kullervo in the Kalevala, a Finnish epic that Tolkien read as a teenager and which was a major inspiration behind the story of Túrin.

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, Grasped the sharpened sword he carried, Looked upon the sword and turned it, And he questioned it and asked it, And he asked the sword's opinion, If it was disposed to slay him, To devour his guilty body, And his evil blood to swallow. Understood the sword his meaning, Understood the hero's question, And it answered him as follows: "Wherefore at thy heart's desire Should I not thy flesh devour, And drink up thy blood so evil? I who guiltless flesh have eaten, Drank the blood of those who sinned not?" Kalevala, Rune XXXVI, translated by W.F. Kirby (1907)

Very familiar, isn’t it? The existence of a talking sword in-universe provides opportunity for all sorts of imaginative explanations, but the influence of Kullervo offers, I think, a compelling Doylist one.

Finally, it’s common to read interpretations where Anglachel and Anguirel exhibit the same properties as Gurthang. But there’s not, to the best of my knowledge, explicit canonical evidence that “speech” was an ability these two swords had from the time of their forging by Eöl. (I was also fascinated to find, during research for this post, that Anglachel and Anguirel were probably not always black. I made a separate post about it.)

Anguirel

Meaning: Uncertain. Possibly a combination of Sindarin ang “iron”, (unattested) uir “fiery” (or Noldorin uir “eternity”), and êl “star” (Eldamo).

Maker: Eöl

Owned/wielded by: Eöl, Maeglin

Fate: Unknown; presumably lost in the fall of Gondolin

Discussion

Compared to Anglachel, we know little of the history of its mate Anguirel, save that it was stolen from Eöl by Maeglin, presumably at the time Maeglin left Nan Elmoth for Gondolin.

Angrist (knife)

Meaning: Iron Cleaver. Sindarin.

Maker: Telchar of Nogrod

Owned/wielded by: Curufin, Beren

Fate: Breaks in Beren’s attempt to cut a second Silmaril from Morgoth’s crown.

Then Beren did Curufin release; but took his horse and coat of mail, and took his knife there gleaming pale, hanging sheathless, wrought of steel. No flesh could leeches ever heal that point had pierced; for long ago the dwarves had made it, singing slow enchantments, where their hammers fell in Nogrod, ringing like a bell. Iron as tender wood it cleft, and sundered mail like woollen weft. But other hands its haft now held; its master lay by mortal felled. The Lay of Leithian, 3051-3063

Then Lúthien rising forbade the slaying of Curufin; but Beren despoiled him of his gear and weapons, and took his knife, Angrist. That knife was made by Telchar of Nogrod, and hung sheathless by his side; iron it would cleave as if it were green wood. The Silmarillion, ‘Of Beren and Lúthien’

Discussion

Although of a different maker (and of unknown metallic composition), Angrist has interesting similarities with Anglachel and Anguirel. Besides the initial ang- element, all three blades are noted for an ability to cut through iron, and both Anglachel and Angrist end up “turning against” their masters as a pivotal moment: Angrist by breaking as Beren tries to cut a second Silmaril from Morgoth’s crown, and Anglachel by being the instrument of Beleg's death. As Eöl is also noted to have learned from the Dwarves, some fans have imagined these three blades may have been forged from the same meteoritic iron, or at least to share some of the same “enchantment”.

Note that the quote from Lay of Leithian does not explicitly apply to Angrist, which is a name for Curufin’s knife that Tolkien first used in the 1937 Quenta Silmarillion.

Part 2 | Part 3

#weapons #anglachel #gurthang #anguirel #angrist #the children of hurin #the lay of leithian #kalevala #turin turambar #beleg #eol #maeglin #curufin #anon

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aipilosse · 9 months

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Why Pengolodh of all people is able to stoke such rage within me on his behalf is so bizarre. Like, he's a non-character, a name and some facts Tolkien came up with in his carousel of in-universe authors to keep the layers of narration he loved, but the way he is maligned in this fandom is tragic.

I've touched on before that treating the Silmarillion as if it were written and relayed by a single author is entirely incorrect so I won't go into that here, and honestly I'm sure I've said this all before BUT

The idea that Penny is for some reason *least* suited to write most of the events of the Silmarillion is PATENTLY ridiculous, and I would challenge anyone who says that to a duel, either intellectual or physical (even in my current weakened state... Tulkas is on my side I cannot fail). First of all, the one place where nobody else knows anything about what happened is GONDOLIN, so I think if anyone is going to be writing about most of the events of the Silm, they either need to be from Gondolin or need to live in Sirion with survivors.

OH WHAT'S THAT.... SIRION?!?

Yeah, Sirion! The place where not only are there survivors of Gondolin, but there are survivors of Doriath and Nargothrond AND any remnants of the Beorians, Hadorian, and Haladin. Like, I can think of no other place where the Mannish legends would be able to be recounted, and put on the same level, as the Elvish ones.

"But the Feanorians," you squall. "He's so *unfair* to them, and how could he know ANYTHING about them? That's why we know sooo little about the Feanorians and why they are soooo unjustly maligned."

Ok, first of all, ya basic. Second of all, HE HAS ACCESS TO FEANORIAN SOURCES TOO.

There is Celebrimbor, and all the other former followers of Curufin and Celegorm that could of course tell Penny what was up in Himlad and afterwards while he was in Gondolin. Also, there were probably Feanorians who lived after turning on Maedhros and Maglor during the sack of the Havens who could fill in what happened after The Luthien Incident. So, actually, Pengolodh had multiple sources to literally all of the essential events of the Silmarillion.

OH YEAH THE SACK OF THE HAVENS. Despite living through what is described as the worst atrocity of elf v elf, despite having people we KNOW were friends with him KILLED during that fight, despite having his home destroyed by fellow Noldor, he *really* gives Maglor and Maedhros every excuse. "they felt bad, they're so tired, love grew between them and their victims" etc etc. The Silm is sympathetic to the Feanorians and you can't convince me otherwise (you're not some crazy rebel because you like them!) (They are also Doomed by the narrative, but attributing that to an in-universe author requires getting into the territory of events that occurred not actually occurring and... what's the point if you're going to say that the things that the book is about didn't happen? why are you even here?)

I see people say that the bias is against the 3 Cs, Caranthir especially, which is an ABSURD statement to make in conjunction with the 'Pengolodh, sole conveyer of the Silm' theory. Like, Pengolodh most likely never met any of the 3 Cs or if he did he was very young -- why would he dislike them more than the brothers that massacred his friends? I think the theory here is that he's just such a huge Turgon fan and just absorbed Turgon's opinions on the 3 Cs, which is just conjecture on top of conjecture with no solid footing.

I think there is more credence to him being biased against Maeglin on account of the Fall of Gondolin. But, I ask you, is it really *bias* when the guy is partially responsible for the sack of the city you spent most of your life in and likely the deaths of most of your friends and relatives? And Maeglin too in the published Silm is not without his good qualities! If you hate someone, it can be very hard to admit they're handsome and smart, but Penny does not have that issue.

Anyway, justice for Pengolodh. You didn't write the whole thing, Penny, but what you did write was I'm sure fucking fantastic.

#Pengolodh #justice for pengolodh #pengolodh nation rise up

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tanoraqui · 1 year

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do you think when the armies of Valinor reached Nargothrond, they found much of its treasure intact, because even the greediest orcs know better than to invoke dragon-curses, and Finarfin found a last few gems which Finrod brought from Aman, and could see how his son's taste in jewelry had spread throughout the kingdom? Do you think when they reached Gondolin, even if all the buildings were long-since crumbled and burned for the enemy's petty vengeance, Anairë could still walk the streets and know them laid out in the same patterns Turgon always favored in building-blocks as a child? Do you think this happened over and over with a hundred families and sundered friends, glimpsing what their long-lost kith and kin had built only from its ashes?

#the silmarillion #war of wrath

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amethysttribble · 2 months

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“I do believe I am a very bad person,” Finrod said, and Celegorm sighed around the lip of the bottle.

“We were having fun, I thought we were having fun,” he groaned, stretching languidly over the arm of the couch. He and his ‘king’, the King of Nargothrond, were laying together, legs tangled together like a couple of youths, drinking wine. They’d been laughing, singing, naught but a second ago. Ah, but wine was a changeable drink.

“I was just thinking,” Finrod said, cradling his own bottle to his chest tenderly, “about the time Grandfather found us in the royal wine cellar, how scared we were that we were in awful trouble, how he smiled and said, ‘well? Won’t you pour me a drink?’ I loved him so much.”

“We all loved him,” Celegorm muttered bitterly and he tipped the drink back and drank until only droplets were coming to his tongue.

He tried not to think of Grandfather. Or the other grandfather. Or Mother. Or Father. Or-

“I wanted to rule something beautiful like he did,” Finrod was sighing, “Something glorious; powerful and intricate and built entirely in my image. Mine. All mine, in the palm of my hand, and then people would look at me like they looked at Grandfather. Someone beautiful, glorious. Worthy. Worthy of his name, not because I did what he did, but because I made something all my own. I wanted it. I wanted it so badly I spat on my father’s kind heart, and trampled over my cousins’ blood, and scorned our uncle, and… Turko, Grandfather never wanted us to come to this land.”

“‘Two sons at least thou hast to honor thy words’,” Celegorm said with a sneer. He let the bottle roll from his hands and stared at the ceiling, not daring to close his eyes and face the spinning. “I remember. Those words ruined my life.”

Those words spoke in jealousy by Fingolfin had seen Father banished and started this unending nightmare.

It always came back to the same question, stay or go.

Oh, but Celegorm wished he’d stayed.

“He would be disappointed in us now,” Finrod said, “If he caught us now. No drink for him but tears, to see us in this land, that wasn’t what he wanted. We did all this in his name, but it wasn’t want he wanted. What selfish children we are, always pilfering from his stores and caring nothing for how long that wine aged. Now we age it ourselves and it is vinegar. And yet I still want all the glitters. How foul is that?”

“Why are you telling me all this, Felagund?”

“My brothers are dead.”

And that was all there was to it.

“Right,” Celegorm grunted as he swung his feet to the floor and sat up. “I’m going to go throw-up, and I suggest you do the same before you vomit up anymore useless words.”

He swayed on his feet but managed to stay upright. He might have made it to the privy had Finrod not grabbed his hand as he passed. When Celegorm looked down, it wasn’t the king who looked back. It was the little cousin Tyelkormo knew, full of sunshine smiles and mischief, who he used to have such fun with; but now that boy’s face was blotchy with tears and sorrow.

They had been having fun. Weren’t they?

“This doesn’t end well, Turko.”

Yes, well, Celegorm had guessed that. Had felt it in the gnawing void in his chest that called and called and called and received no answer. It was shredding him, and in the open wounds crept in fear. Celegorm was so tired of being scared.

Finrod’s eyes did nothing to quell his fear, instead they inflamed the terror. Those eyes… Celegorm suspected this ended pourly, but Finrod’s eyes knew. An animal sort of fear wrapped around his throat, and Celegorm’s chest heaved, his heart hammered like he was naught but a rabbit caught in a snare.

He didn’t know what to do with the knowledge that dauntless, peerless, kingly Finrod was frightened, too.

And it was not quite the same expression on his little cousin’s face, but it bore a distant relationship to the nervous, startled look Finrod had shot him when Grandfather caught them drinking in the wine cellar. Turko, Turko, he asked, what do we do? Both times, Celegorm wanted to demand, how should I know?

He really wasn’t that much older.

And yet-

He meant to sink to his knees, but instead collapsed onto his ass heavily, and, ah, that was going to smart in the morning.

“Felagund,” he slurred, reaching up to take the bottle away and then to run his fingers through Finrod’s hair. “Shut up and go to sleep. When the night’s not fun anymore, that’s when you should go to bed. Isn’t that what I taught you? Go to sleep before you make mistakes you can’t take back.”

“Don’t go,” Finrod cried and Celegorm shushed him. He started to sing.

And, as Finrod’s eyes slipped shut and his quickened, guilty breathes evened out, if the words Celegorm moaned were the hymn they would sing to the doomed and dying animals…

Hopefully, they were both be too drunk to remember in the morning.

#let’s give it up for random stuff I wrote in bed at 11 o clock at night #celegorm #finrod #tolkien #the silmarillion #Tribble post #fanfic

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sakasakiii · 11 months

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Hi!

I love your work!! Your art is very pretty. Do you have a specific idea of how old everyone is ? Do you lean more towards canon or do you have your own dates in mind ? If don’t wanna a answer it’s ok!

Hope u have a nice day

(Remember to drink water!)

hiiii nonnie!!! thank you for checking in, and im happy u like the stuff i put out!! when it comes to ages, it's difficult to answer sometimes bc of the way professor tolkien's timeline is-- it makes gauging one singular place where most of the cast can be compared something that makes my tired brain go 😵🤧🤕 but i love the prompt youve given! and thus heres my attempt at it

with most of my tolkien stuff, i always try to stick to canon wherever possible emphasis is on try lmao and the topic of ages is one such place. i do make exceptions to the Professor's canon sometimes for a few reasons: 1) i like some of the scrapped ideas in his drafts, or 2) i just prefer other options. with ages, i think the only charas with canon-established ages i deviated from are fingolfin, finrod, turgon, and aredhel. i try to keep cases like these minimal tho, so i hope it doesn't bother anyone too much... 👉👈

anyways i figured just dropping a list of numbers would be kinda boring to look at so heres an illustrated guide to what the ~rough~ ages of the finweans are in my head whenever i write or draw. Y.T. 1495 (the year Finwe dies) is the controlled medium ive used to enable a fair comparison of the Finweans

note: "born Y.T. xxx" means this is the canon date of birth listed on Tolkien Gateway. "est. born [xxx]" means this is a noncanon estimate:

the First Age gets a lot more muddled from there due to the hullaballoo of everything going on, so ill only be including the doriathrim and a few other denizens of nargothrond:

it's mostly the older elves that are more undefined/vague with their ages (i.o.w. others like elwing, earendil, the peredhil twins, and most Men all have set dates of birth), so they're all i'll be doing for now. but it's that vagueness which makes hcing all the more enjoyable, isn't it! plus since we’re on this subject, under the cut are just a few headcanons and musings ive had that i wanted to put somewhere 😙

Finarfin and Earwen were born within months of each other! Finwe and Olwe made a Really Big Deal out of when they found out their wives were pregnant at the same time. As a result, the two were often sent on many playdates with each other to “bolster healthy relations” between the Noldor and the Teleri. It wasn’t an arranged marriage situation, but I like to think they were goofy for each other from the start… Resulting in the two eventually getting married as soon as they came of age, the fastest out of all of Finwe’s kids to do so.

The reason the Ambarussa are significantly younger than the other Finweans (especially the Feanorians-- there’s a 100 Valian year gap between them and Curufin alone!) is because I imagine they were accidental babies that even Feanor didn’t expect to conceive. too bad morgoth said "its morgin time!" and started Messing Things Up shortly afterwards.....

Anaire was Lalwen's good friend long before she married Fingolfin; they met through Lalwen who wingmanned Fingolfin the whole time. i like think Anaire'd be the best out of all the wives at keeping good, healthy bonds with all the women of her family :DD

luthien's potential 姐姐/big sis dynamic with all the younger doriathrim elves is something i daydream about a lot 😌 but sometimes the fact that she's older than finarfin keeps me up at night

this has been really fun, so thanks again for asking-- annnd yessir, i am chugging water as i write this so you better be doing the same ❤️ have a great start to your week!

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arafinweanappreciation · 7 months

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Can you tell me more about Turgon and Finrod's relationship? It's such an underrated (not sure hahaha) friendship, unlike Maedhros and Fingon. I saw your crack headcanon about their first words and now I wanna know more.

The first thing you have to remember when talking about Finrod and Turgon is

they're everything. and yes, extremely underrated

however, since this ask is coming from seeing a crack headcanon post, i'm assuming that you want more headcanons, in which case i am happy to oblige (if you want to see me talking about the parallels, i made a post here)

for most of their lives they grew at the same rate. they were close enough in size to steal each other's clothes. then one day finrod stopped at a reasonable eldarin height and turgon just. didn't

anytime they're in the same place they're a package deal. who's that weird guy with dark hair sitting in the background while you hang out with finrod? oh that's his cousin. if you don't like him you'd better get over it as long as you still want to see finrod

they have a kind of darcy-and-bingley-esque relationship mostly in that finrod can do things like say that he only listens to turgon because he's tall and turgon not only tolerates this but finds it endearing???? and everyone else who knows anything about turgon's personality is incredibly confused

turgon is the nolofinwion who has spent the most time in aqualonde out of all of them. he and finrod share a room when he visits. once again to the confusion of everyone

turgon, galadriel, aredhel, and finrod all used to be super close when they were younger, and although aredhel and galadriel remained very close with their older brothers they kind of drifted apart from their cousins, with aredhel spending more time with curufin and celegorm and galadriel sort of striking out on her own

they were raised like 60/40 by their own and each other's parents, respectively

they have a lot of identical expressions and it's very weird to see the same face that the deceased king of nargothrond made out of frustration on the very much alive king of gondolin

turgon was one of the very few people who knew about finrod and amarie

they have friendship bracelets. they're noldorin they can't help it

#thanks for the ask!#silm #silmarillion #finrod #finrod felagund #turgon #finrod and turgon

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verecunda · 2 months

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Misc. "Beren and Lúthien" thoughts

Honestly, fair play to Christopher Tolkien for his efforts in producing these standalone volumes, especially in tracing the development of the stories, because the way he describes his dad's multifarious drafts, notebooks, bits of scribble on the backs of envelope etc... Jesus Christ. X'D

I found so much interesting stuff in the Beren and Lúthien book! I'm not even going to try and put them all down here, but in the early versions especially, there are so many odd wee details that seem to me to shed light on certain ambiguous details in the version that appears in the published Silmarillion (whether these were Tolkien's final thoughts on the matter or not).

One of the most interesting things, particularly in the earliest versions, is the stress laid on the fact that Thingol/Tinwelint's order to Beren to fetch a Silmaril is actually meant sarcastically. It's a joke; he doesn't actually expect Beren to go and do it. It struck me because that's exactly how I read it in the Silmarillion: it's Thingol's way of scoffing at Beren and getting him to fuck off. I don't think Thingol had any particular desire for a Silmaril himself (at least, not until it actually came into his hands). That was how I read it, at least, but I was surprised that in the early versions, it's made pretty explicit. It also gives an added resonance to Beren's "lololol the Silmaril is in my hand!" line: the quest that began with a poor-taste joke is brought to fruition with a poor-taste joke. :D

Also quite interesting that Beren's father was originally called Egnor. Clearly not meant to be the same figure as Aegnor son of Finarfin, but it is an early version of the same name. Interesting just because it's a name that always seems to be floating about the fringes of these tales of love between mortals and Elves... ;___;

The version where Felagund first encounters Men while he was a "guest of Celegorm in the East" (as opposed to Maedhros and Maglor in the published Silm). This, I thought, was interesting, because it might serve to explain why Celegorm and Curufin wind up in Nargothrond after the Bragollach, if Tolkien had - at least at one stage - envisioned a friendship between them. There's definitely versions where C&C are friends with Angrod and Aegnor; I wonder if that was meant to extend to all the sons of Finarfin at one point.

#The Silmarillion #Beren and Lúthien #I drafted this weeks ago after reading B&L #I think there was more I wanted to post about but I can't remember what that was now #but these can stand on their own I think

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animatorweirdo · 3 months

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From beyond death

In life, you had saved him from the dragon, and now in death, you had done the same.

Warnings: heavy subjects, angst, mentions of a death of a friend, not getting along with a sibling, dying, sad, bleeding, dreaming, torture, getting shot with arrows, and surviving a river.

------------------------------------------

It started out as a little visit. There was a knock at the doorway to the forge, and you were there, popping your head around the corner.

“Celebrimbor. I’m sorry to disturb you, but can I hide here for a while? Lady Finduilas is trying to encourage me to attend another feast, but I am not really feeling it today,” you asked.

“Of course. Help yourself out,” Celebrimbor chuckled as you scuttered in after getting a confirmation, making yourself a spot at a nearby table covered with metals and stones. Celebrimbor glanced in amusement while trying to focus on his current project.

You always had a less liking for social gatherings, maybe because you were more used to wandering outside, keeping your eyes out for dangers that could threaten the safety of Nargothrond. A lone wolf, his kin called you. Galadwen is what you called yourself, but Celebrimbor already knew your real name.

“You know, you could always tell Gwindor and Princess Finduilas that you do not wish to attend the feast,” Celebrimbor stated as he continued his current project. “I usually avoid attending social events, but I didn’t want to appear rude this time,” you said as you made yourself busy, handling a small bunch of metal wires in your hands.

Celebrimbor shook his head with a smile. “My friend, you won’t ever get rid of the fear of people if you don’t try to face them more often,” he said.

“I prefer a solitary life. And besides, I’ve never been one for social life. I remember once attending a feast and getting angry with this one elven lord who insulted my people,” you explained.

“Oh yeah… what happened then?” Celebrimbor questioned since you usually didn’t tell a lot of your past.

“I purposely dumbed cake on him to get his tunic dirty. I don’t think he ever forgave me for that, and honestly, I still don’t feel bad about it. He was unpleasant even on regular days,” you said, making him grin at the thought while you were deep in your own project.

You had a hard time opening up, so whenever Celebrimbor saw a chance to ask questions, he took it to learn more about you.

He wanted to understand why you would name yourself a sorrowful maiden. He knew something terrible had happened, and you were a lonely soul, so he took the initiative to be your friend. Something his prideful father would had most likely shamed him for, and he did not regret it as you two had grown a close friendship. There was something that pulled him toward you, and one day– you trusted him enough to give him your real name and your past as one of the children of Hurin.

When he learned about the tragic death of your close friend and the fallout between you and your brother, many things about you started to make sense, and it nearly broke his heart. He did not think you deserved to be alone for the things that happened. You even set yourself outside, thinking it would protect his people if you did not linger inside and infect the kingdom with the curse of your house. It resulted in your self-destructive habits as you were haunted by what happened, and Celebrimbor was glad he was able to talk you out of them and live more healthily.

It was clear he had a lot of effect on you as you even started coming inside and visiting his forge much more to talk to him. His kin saw you and him as a peculiar pair, but since it helped you to stop most of your destructive habits and smile more, Celebrimbor paid no mind. He deeply cared for you, so it was worth it.

You two talked in the forge. You shared certain things that happened in the feast, and Celebrimbor replied sometimes with an amused chuckle or another question to keep the conversation flowing. You then did something peculiar he would never forget.

“Hey, Celebrimbor. Could you come here for a moment?” you asked.

Curious, Celebrimbor left his current project and walked over to you. You then lifted one of his hands and slid a ring made from metal wires into his finger. Celebrimbor was surprised by the sudden gesture, but he couldn’t help but marvel at the new ring in his hand. You had somehow folded the metal wires into a single ring, and in the center, you had twisted ends together and folded them into a shape that resembled a spiky flower with roots wrapped around the ring.

Celebrimbor felt charmed and impressed as you had made the ring with your bare hands.

“It’s lovely. What is it?” Celebrimbor looked at you.

“A spike ring,” you answered.

“Not the fanciest name, but in my birth home, we used to make them to give our friends, families, and those dear to us whenever they leave as lucky charms, wishing them safe return and protection from evil,” you explained, “It’s even said if someone who wishes you harm touches the ring, the spikes will make them bleed, but I don’t know if that’s true. The spikes are not sharp enough to cause bleeding unless you push hard enough,”

“I…” you hesitated. “It’s just suddenly came to mind. I’m sorry if that was too weird for you,” you shook your hands with an awkward look.

Celebrimbor couldn’t help but smile. “Not at all. I appreciate the little gift. Thank you, (Name),” he said, and you smiled in return, happy to see him accept your little gift.

It was supposed to be only a friendly gesture, but the more time he spent with you, the more you opened up to him. To his worry, he found himself in a similar predicament as Luthien. He had fallen in love with you.

His father would have scorned him if he knew his son had fallen for a mortal, not that his opinion would have mattered. However, Celebrimbor should have controlled himself and avoided such an outcome since there is no way for an eldar and an edain to be together without tragedy. He doubted he could do the same as Luthien and give up his immortality to be with you.

But, he couldn't bring himself to break your heart either. The very idea made him feel resentful toward himself. You would understand his view if he told you, but at the very same time, he wants to bring you that kind of happiness.

King Felagund himself once thought an eldar and an edain could not be together, but then he changed as he willingly helped a mortal man who sought to marry the daughter of Thingol. If someone like him could change his mind, then maybe it's not so terrible.

Celebrimbor never guessed he would feel so much more for you. He would have been happy just to be your friend and see you live a happy long life as you should. But now he had these feelings bothering him.

He observed you as you two went on with your usual outings and activities. He would visit you outside and listen as you talked and watched the stars on your favorite hill and he would sometimes watch as you visited his forge and started crafting something else with your hands at the table where he started gathering materials for you: to see if you would come up with something new.

You looked so happy, but he did not see any signs that you might share the same feelings for him as he did for you. It was more favorable since it made it easy to control his feelings and accept that you only saw him as your friend.

He was alright with that and made a promise to himself that he would stay and see you live a good life as your friend.

But, oh, how he had underestimated the power of your family’s curse as one day. It had come in the form of your older brother, Turin.

He first believed it would be a happy reunion since you had mentioned that your brother went missing after an incident, but you were cautious for some reason. You did try to reconnect with Turin, but something felt amiss, and he felt more like a stranger to you than the brother you grew up within the safety of Doriath.

You became cautious when Turin started gaining influence in Nargothrond. At first, you were all right with whatever he was doing, but then you started expressing concern when he began sharing his ideas with the elves of Nargothrond.

Celebrimbor was there to support you, especially when you and Turin only seemed to grow more distant and unable to see eye to eye. Turin convinced Orodreth to build a bridge to Nargothrond’s main entrance, which in your mind was a terrible idea, and when Gwindor began to get scorned by the council for his past as Morgoth’s thrall, your distance from him only grew.

You came to a realization that Turin was planning to reattempt to have revenge against Morgoth for your family’s suffering, which only created a deeper drift between you as you didn’t think going to war was the best option for your home.

While Turin believed in a direct approach toward the enemy, you believed hiding in secrecy was Nargothrond's best defense. You two only got into an argument when you reminded him what happened last time when he tried to build an army to oppose Morgoth. You were there to support him back then, and it had cost the life of your best friend.

Celebrimbor tried to be the mediator since the arguments between you and your brother were sometimes intense, but when Turin insulted him for his family’s actions as kinslayers, you lost your patience and punched your brother in the face. Celebrimbor was quick to take you away before things escalated, and you would try to fight your brother. You had incredible patience, but when it came to defending him or Gwindor, you would often go head-first and fight the offender.

But this time. You were truly upset with your brother, so he had to calm you down. You vented your frustration about the matter, and Celebrimbor peacefully calmed you till you spoke more softly and expressed your concerns about how Turin was not listening to reason.

Celebrimbor wanted things between you to be peaceful since you both were respected by his people, but when he saw Turin’s growing arrogance as his influence over the kingdom grew and how Turin was slightly too certain things would go his way. It reminded him too much about his father and uncle before things went wrong with them, so Celebrimbor couldn’t help but side with you.

When Turin began encouraging the elves to go to war with Morgoth, you opposed it, but your voice went unheard as Turin’s speech to defeat Morgoth convinced King Orodreth and the council, and they began making preparations since Glaurung was sighted approaching from the north. You did not believe Turin and the elves could defeat the great dragon in direct combat. There were too many possible outcomes, and Turin did not have a plan if things went wrong.

Celebrimbor felt awful to see you in distress, but when you told him it was up to you two to come up with a plan to keep the people of Nargothrond safe if your brother failed in his assault, he was ready to help.

You were familiar with Nargothrond's many caverns, and you knew some of them led outside. In the worst-case scenario, you could use the path to take Nargothrond’s people outside the city and to safety.

Celebrimbor supported the idea and since he had some people who decided to stay with him rather than leave with his father and uncle when they were banished. You two managed to make quick work clearing out the secret path till the day you dreaded finally arrived.

To your sorrow, Gwindor had decided to join the battle with Turin and King Orodreth. You begged him to stay as you knew he would die if he went with your brother’s plan. Unfortunately, Gwindor loved your brother as much as he loved you, even if your brother caused him trouble and the end of his relationship with Finduilas. Gwindor only looked at you sorrowfully and asked you to keep Finduilas safe if things went as you predicted.

At that moment when you watched him ride away with your brother and the rest of the army as they left to confront the dragon, you hated your brother more than anyone. Celebrimbor only knew to hold you close as the tears fell from your eyes. He wanted to give you time to collect yourself, but since time was against you, he had to encourage you to get ready. You wiped your tears, controlling yourself, and you two started gathering the people for the worst.

When you and Celebrimbor prepared for the possible assault on Nargothrond, for a moment, you had false hope that Turin’s plan might have worked and you were being overly cautious, but when you felt the earth beneath you crumble with something that sounded like a heavy earthquake and heard the horns of the orcs instead of the elven, you knew that your prediction of the battle had come true.

However, Glaurung and his army of orcs had come quicker than you expected, and the doors were not strong enough to withstand the dragon’s power, so you and Celebrimbor were left defending Nargothrond’s people as they escaped through the secret path. You two tried to help as many as you could, but unfortunately, most of Nargothrond’s people were either killed or taken by the orcs.

Glaurung then turned his gaze upon you, making you freeze in fear as you looked into those golden eyes once more. He looked surprised to see you but then laughed in mockery as he began taunting you, telling how your brother fled from the battle and made this chaos possible. You were utterly frozen as his voice echoed in your ears, your hands began to shake around your blades, and your body refused your commands to move.

When Celebrimbor saw your state, he tried to run to you and take you away from the dragon, but then Glaurung struck him with his claws, making him fly into a wall and bleed from his now-open wound, the claws of the dragon having gone through his armor. The dragon laughed at his futile attempt and then opened his maws, ready to devour Feanor’s grandson.

Celebrimbor prepared to face death, but then you sprung into action, having freed yourself from the dragon’s gaze. You plunged your blade into the dragon’s eye, making him pull back with a pained scream. You held on to the handle of your blade, pulling yourself over the dragon’s head and stabbing its eyes with fury.

The dragon trashed and shook its head, trying to throw you off. Celebrimbor felt a speck of admiration for your courage and fear when he saw the dragon sprinting outside, taking you to the bridge. He followed and watched as Glaurung began breathing fire toward everything, destroying his forces, who scattered to avoid his blinded rage. You held on to your dear life as you couldn’t let go, or you would end up being tossed off the bridge.

Glaurung’s trashing and firing began damaging the bridge’s structure. The well-built bridge began to collapse under the weight. Celebrimbor then watched in horror as you fell along into the river beneath with the dragon.

“(Name)!” Celebrimbor screamed.

You looked back at him one last time before the mist took you from his sight, and all he could hear was a loud crash and the one final scream of the dragon before it became silent.

The assault was halted as the orcs could no longer cross the river to the city. There were some orcs inside, but enough for his people to handle. Nargothrond's people were safe to leave through the secret path.

Celebrimbor heard someone approaching him and saw it was your brother. Turin asked what had happened since he did not expect the bridge to be destroyed, and Glaurung’s attack halted, but Celebrimbor did not care to answer. He left the bridge and began ascending into the river, where you had fallen.

At the bottom of the bridge, Glaurung’s body had blocked the flow of the river, and the stones from the bridge were scattered around the riverbank. Celebrimbor found you lying beside the dead beast, blood flowing down from your body with the river, unmoving.

“(Name)!” he cradled you in his arms, finding several wounds, most likely punctured by the several rocks during your fall, and you hissed when he touched certain spots, no doubt having suffered broken bones.

You looked at him, pale and shivering from the cold. You mustered the strength to glance at the ring you made for him on his finger before looking at him.

“You’re not hurt, are you? Please tell me you’re not hurt?” you asked with a shivering tone.

Celebrimbor would have shaken his head if you weren’t so injured. Even in your most vulnerable state, you cared more about him than yourself. But he could not deny answering when he saw your nearly desperate pleading eyes.

“I’m alright. I’m not hurt anywhere else,” Celebrimbor said as he had managed to stop the bleeding from his wound moments ago. He inspected your wounds. He was struck with festering sorrow. You would not live long enough to receive help.

You smiled even when blood was trailing down from your lips. “I’m glad…” you uttered, nearly closing your eyes. “Please stay with me…” Celebrimbor held you close, starting to shed tears. He knew you would not survive but couldn’t help but hold on to that tingle of hope.

“I’m sorry… I want to… but I’m afraid I’m too broken to be healed even by elven magic,” you weakly said. “I’m happy, though…” you said, holding his hand where the ring you made for him still lay. “I didn’t screw up this time… and the beast of my nightmares is finally dead,” you said, glancing toward the dead dragon.

“Please go… it’s not safe here,” you said, lying your head against his chest. Celebrimbor held you, unable to answer. “And leave you alone… dream on,” he uttered, making you chuckle. “Thank you…” your voice fell quiet as you enjoyed the warmth.

“(I love you, my bravest),” Celebrimbor uttered the words he had kept to himself for so long.

“(I love you too, my brightest star)” you uttered back before Celebrimbor heard your last breath, and your hand fell cold in his hand.

The pain in his chest was intense. He lets his once proud self weep as he holds on to your now cold body. He did not know why he sometimes forgot you could speak his language fluently, but now learning that you had loved him in return all this time only made the pain worse.

He did not even hear the voice of Turin or some of his people who had come to fetch him and witness your death. He nearly did not want to.

His people had convinced him to come with them, but he could not bring himself to leave you alone in the river, so he carried you to your favorite hill where you liked to gaze at the world around you. There, Celebrimbor laid you to rest.

His heart was left barren after your death. The regret of not telling his feelings for you sooner haunted him.

He needed his people to guide him as he was still numb by your loss. Turin was grieved by your death even if he didn’t show it. He left to find Finduilas, who was taken by the orcs with other prisoners who didn’t manage to escape, and that was the last of him.

Celebrimbor knew he shouldn't blame your brother, but since you knew the outcome and your brother convinced his people to build the bridge and face the enemy directly, he couldn’t help but feel resentment toward him. If he had listened, then maybe Nargothrond wouldn’t have fallen, and you would still be alive.

Your death caused him immense sorrow. Each day he wondered what he could have done to change the outcome, and it felt like he was falling deeper and deeper into the dark depths that tempted him to let go and perhaps in certain hopes to join you in death, but your ring gave him strength to continue and live for the remaining people who had come to see him as their leader. And certain times, he would dream of you, and you would assure him, which gave him strength.

The first age passed swiftly, and soon he had become the lord of Eregion and the last surviving member of his house. He never imagined himself as a leader after his father and the rest of his relatives, but he had achieved that. He still missed how you would suddenly pop into the forges to hide from attending feasts and simply talk to him. The forges never felt more empty to him before. He even made a spot for you where you would start doing one of your handcrafts even if it always remained empty.

He protected the spike ring so it wouldn’t snap or get destroyed. And when he would notice a wire lose, he would try everything in his power to repair it even going as far as trying to imbue magic to make it durable, but he was always afraid of breaking it. It was his last memory of you.

When Annatar arrived in his city, his friendship and guidance in forging the rings of power had helped Celebrimbor out of the sadness a little. He still thought of you but sometimes felt tired, especially when others began warning him about his new friend, which he did not understand.

However, as time passed, the anniversary of your death arrived. It was one of those times when he would light one of your favorite scented candles and look into the starry sky. It was a moment where he wished to be alone and think in peace. However, Annatar had come to him and disturbed his peace. It was perhaps one of the only times he was not pleased with his friend’s inquiry and presence, but he remained polite.

The two talked, Annatar curiously asking about his tradition of lighting up the candle and looking at the stars. Celebrimbor spoke about you and how you two used to do it together when you were still alive. He talked about you fondly while thinking of the memories you shared while keeping most private, not wanting to overshare.

He shared how you died protecting him from Glaurung, and for a moment, he felt a change in his friend’s tone. It was subtle but not unnoticeable.

Annatar spoke sympathetically and proceeded to touch his hand, only to pull back with a hiss. Celebrimbor was startled when he saw his friend bleeding from his finger, but when he mentioned that he poked it on the ring on his finger. Celebrimbor became cautious, remembering what you had once said about the ring — about how the ring would make those who wish him harm bleed upon touch. The ring was not sharp enough to cause wounds, yet it had made Annatar bleed.

He remained worried till Annatar assured him it was just a wound. He wondered why he would keep such a sharp ring, and Celebrimbor told him off while finally starting to believe that his friend might not be who he claimed to be.

Celebrimbor took heed of the warnings he had once received from Galadriel and Gil-galad and began observing Annatar, who still seemed like usual. Celebrimbor tried to figure out what was wrong, but his friend either had a convincing act or maybe he was overthinking it. The only suspicious thing he could find was that his friend would often leave for trips and not tell where he would go these times.

He nearly believed he was simply overthinking it, but he couldn’t bring himself to ignore it either. Your ring making Annatar bleed felt like a warning.

He finally got his answer when Annatar revealed himself as Sauron and destroyed his city. He was taken captive, and Sauron tortured him, trying to make him reveal the location of the three elven rings he had made in secret. Out of anger and pride, he refused, and each time his torture only got worse.

His only comfort was your ring. They couldn’t remove your ring from his hand. Each time they would try, the ring would make their hands bleed, and they would pull back in pain. It gave Celebrimbor certain joy since it felt like you were still protecting him, but he could not help but dread they might take his hand next.

When his exhaustion took a toll on him, he dreamed of you. You suddenly appeared to him in his cell. He did not first figure out that it was a dream, so he was scared and worried Sauron would capture you. You stubbornly refused and helped him out of his binds, taking him out of the dungeons. You lead him through the rocky maze and to a flowing river. You told him it was his way out, and the dream ended, making him realize what he had seen.

He did not first comprehend the meaning of his dream till he saw a chance to escape. He escaped his binds and took down the guards before making it through a familiar maze and to the river he saw in his dream.

He did not know what to do next as the dream had ended. He tried to figure out how the river was going to be his escape till he turned around and felt an arrow through his shoulder. Sauron stood with his orcs. Sauron expressed how disappointed he was before signaling his orcs to shoot him down.

Celebrimbor felt the second arrow pierce him, and the third one was the final that sent him falling into the river. In his last moments, Celebrimbor watched as your ring glowed and then broke, making him watch in horror as he was then finally taken by the river.

Yet death was not what he found in the river.

Struggling to pull himself out of the water, Celebrimbor groaned as he crawled out of the river, having been carried miles away from Sauron and his forces. Exhausted, he then flopped down on his back on the rocky beach.

He stared at the sky, wondering how he had survived. The arrows had left his bleeding wounds in the river, but they were not fatal enough. He could even survive them once he found help.

He then turned his head toward his hand, where your broken ring lay. The twists had been untangled, making it look like a tangled thick wire. He held onto it tight, afraid to lose it. He broke down in tears, unable to hold down his sorrow.

“Oh, my love… even in death, you had protected me,” he uttered as he held the broken ring close to his heart.

#silmarillion #tolkien #silmarillion x reader #middle earth x reader #silmarillion imagines #silm fic #silmarillion fanfiction #middle earth #celebrimbor #celebrimbor x reader #celebrimbor x human reader #children of hurin #silmarillion oneshot

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warrioreowynofrohan · 1 year

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Their Oath Shall Drive Them and Yet Betray Them

When you run through the events of the Silmarillion, it’s glaring how consistently the Oath of Fëanor works against its own fulfillment.

One of Fëanor’s first acts after taking the Oath - not directly driven by it, but certainly driven by the same pattern of ‘I will kill anyone who stands between me and reclaiming the Silmarils’ - is the massacre of the Teleri and the theft of the swan-ships. This isn’t a necessary action to get to Middle-earth - it is simply the fastest, easiest, and most violent path.

But let’s say we set that aside, and look only at actions that are directly in service to the Oath.

For the four hundred years that Morgoth - their enemy, responsible for the deaths of their father and grandfather, supposedly the reason they swore the Oath in the first place - holds the Silmarils, the Fëanoreans make no attempt to reclaim the Silmarils.

But when non-Morgoth people even think about them, it is another matter entirely.

Celegorm and Curufin usurp the rule of Nargothrond, send Finrod and Beren to their deaths and deliberately abandon them once their capture is know, take Lúthien captive and attempt to forcibly marry her to Celegorm and rape her, and, after they are expelled from Nargothrond, attempt first to kill Beren and kidnap Lúthien, and then attempt to murder Lúthien (and nearly do murder Beren) after she has shown them mercy.

Now, Thingol didn’t want a Silmaril in the first place. He never expected Beren to retrieve one. The goal was for Beren to be daunted by the task and leave, never to return, or else to die in the attempt. And the Silmarils aren’t inherently something people are unwilling to give up (thanks to a recent essay for pointing this out) - Beren gives it to Thingol, a messenger brings it to Dior after Beren and Lúthien’s deaths, Elwing has it as an infant and no one surrounding her tries to take it for themselves, Elwing gives it to Eärendil. Aside from the incident of Thingol and the dwarves - which involves (in some versions cursed) dragon-treasure, which we know from The Hobbit has an ill effect on some people - people are mostly only unwilling to give it up to the Sons of Fëanor. With just cause!

If it wasn’t for the Kinslaying at Alqualondë, and especially for Celegorm and Curufin’s actions in Nargothrond - if there had never been an Oath - would it have been possible to negotiate with Thingol for the Silmaril? It might have cost a great deal, politically - it might have cost the recognition of Thingol as King of Beleriand - but if they could humble their pride that far, it wouldn’t have been out of the question.

And beyond that - without Celegorm and Curufin’s acts in service of the Oath, would both Nargothrond and Doriath have joined in the assault against Angband that was the Fifth Battle? Could they have won? Could they have, among other things, regained the other two Silmarils? It’s questionable (there’s still the issue of having to fight inside Angband, and fighting Morgoth himself, and of additional dragons…), but the narrative in the Silm does suggest a few moments in the battle when there was a chance.

And with later events, it becomes even clearer. Beren, and certainly Lúthien, don’t care a lot about the Silmaril for its own sake; if there was no grievance - if not for the Fëanoreans’ deeds of kidnapping, and attempted rape and murder, and treachery causing the death of Beren’s friend and Lúthien’s cousin, and on top of that, threatening to murder Lúthien’s father - wouldn’t there have been a pretty decent chance to reach an agreement where the Fëanoreans recieved it upon Beren and Lúthien’s deaths? Or wouldn’t they have had far better chances of negotiating with Dior for it? At every step motivated by the Oath, the Fëanoreans make enemies of the very people whose goodwill would be of most value to them.

And of course, after the Second Kinslaying, none if the refugees of Doriath have cause to guve the Fëanoreans the time of day, much less a Silmaril.

But it keeps going. We come to the end of the War of Wrath; the other two Silmarils are reclaimed from Morgoth by the Host of the Valar. Maedhros and Maglor demand them of Eönwë, and he tells them that they have lost all right to the jewels - because of their many and merciless deeds, and most of all because of their slaying of Dior and the assault upon the Havens.

For a long time I found the temerity of this demand from Maedhros and Maglor, and of their later theft of the Silmarils, unfathomable, coming as it did towards an army that had arrived beyond hope and saved their lives and the lives of everyone in Beleriand, an army arriving at the appeal of two people whose friends and home Maedhros and Maglor had slaughtered and whose children they had stolen. But in this context the theft becomes clearer. They are being told that the very atrocities that they took to regain the Silmarils - atrocities that they loathe - have in fact permanently barred them from regaining them. They have, in effect, been told that if they had not spent the past years violating their own consciences and turning their deeds to evil and murder, and if, indeed, they had spent all the years since the Nirnaeth doing sweet fuck-all about the Oath, they would now be rid of it and have the Silmarils. That’s devastating! They don’t want to have done those things! All their evil choices, all their regrets, have served only to cut them off from a goal that they could have otherwise achieved. Of course they cannot accept this. Of course they make a last attempt, and learn the truth of Eönwë’s statement.

They recieved a prophecy and a warning, and they ignored it, and it had come true at every turn. Their Oath shall drive them and yet betray them. At every moment in Beleriand when there is any chance of the Fëanoreans regaining a Silmaril, the single greatest obstacle standing in their way is the Oath itself.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #oath of feanor #maedhros #maglor #sons of feanor #celegorm #curufin

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