The evolution of the Oath of Fëanor

I was interested in comparing the different versions of the Oath of Fëanor to understand the similarities and differences and how it changed over time. So I went through HoMe and copied all the different versions to look at them side by side.

To start with, the earliest mention of the Oath appears in The Book of Lost Tales, and it was sworn by Fëanor’s sons, but not Fëanor himself, after the Noldor came to Beleriand:

Then the Seven Sons of Fëanor swore an oath of enmity for ever against any that should hold the Silmarils. / The Seven Sons of Fëanor swore their terrible oath of hatred for ever against all, Gods or Elves or Men, who should hold the Silmarils...

The next version appears in the Flight of the Noldoli from The Lays of Beleriand; Fëanor himself now initiates the Oath and swears it in Valinor. This is also the earliest version of the actual words of the Oath:

‘I swear here oaths, unbreakable bonds to bind me ever,  by Timbrenting and the timeless halls  of Bredhil the Blessed that abides thereon— may she hear and heed—to hunt endlessly unwearying unwavering through world and sea, through leaguered lands, lonely mountains, over fens and forest and the fearful snows,  till I find those fair ones, where the fate is hid of the folk of Elfland and their fortune locked, where alone now lies the light divine.’

Then his sons beside him, the seven kinsmen, crafty Curufin, Celegorm the fair, Damrod and Diriel and dark Cranthir, Maglor the mighty, and Maidros tall (the eldest, whose ardour yet more eager burnt than his father's flame, than Fëanor’s wrath; him fate awaited with fell purpose), these leapt with laughter their lord beside, with linked hands there lightly took the oath unbreakable; blood thereafter it spilled like a sea and spent the swords of endless armies, nor hath ended yet:

‘Be he friend or foe or foul offspring of Morgoth Bauglir, be he mortal dark that in after days on earth shall dwell, shall no law nor love nor league of Gods, no might nor mercy, not moveless fate, defend him for ever from the fierce vengeance of the sons of Fëanor, whoso seize or steal or finding keep the fair enchanted globes of crystal whose glory dies not, the Silmarils. We have sworn for ever!’

The next version appears in The Lay of Leithian, The Lays of Beleriand:

They joined in vows, those kinsmen seven, swearing beneath the stars of Heaven, by Varda the Holy that them wrought and bore them each with radiance fraught and set them in the deeps to flame. Timbrenting's holy height they name, whereon are built the timeless halls of Manwë Lord of Gods. Who calls these names in witness may not break his oath, though earth and heaven shake. Curufin, Celegorm the fair, Damrod and Diriel were there, and Cranthir dark, and Maidros tall (whom after torment should befall), and Maglor the mighty who like the sea with deep voice sings yet mournfully. ‘Be he friend or foe, or seed defiled of Morgoth Bauglir, or mortal child that in after days on earth shall dwell, no law, nor love, nor league of hell, not might of Gods, not moveless fate shall him defend from wrath and hate of Fëanor's sons, who takes or steals or finding keeps the Silmarils, the thrice-enchanted globes of light that shine until the final night.’

This is followed by another version of the Oath which appears in Sketch of the Mythology from The Shaping of Middle-earth, after Tolkien stopped working on the poetic Silmarillion and turned to the prose version:

Fëanor and his sons take the unbreakable oath by Timbrenting and the names of Manwë and Bridil to pursue anyone, Elf, Mortal, or Orc, who holds the Silmarils.

The next version appears in the Quenta Noldorinwa from The Shaping of Middle-earth:

Then he swore a terrible oath. His seven sons leaped straightway to his side and took the selfsame vow together, each with drawn sword. They swore an oath which none shall break, and none should take, by the name of the Allfather, calling the Everlasting Dark upon them, if they kept it not; and Manwë they named in witness, and Varda, and the Holy Mount, vowing to pursue with vengeance and hatred to the ends of the world Vala, Demon, Elf, or Man as yet unborn, or any creature great or small, good or evil, that time should bring forth unto the end of days, whoso should hold or take or keep a Silmaril from their possession.

And this is the version of the Oath in the Annals of Aman from Morgoth’s Ring:

Then Fëanor swore a terrible oath. Straightway his seven sons leaped to his side and each took the selfsame oath; and red as blood shone their drawn swords in the glare of the torches.

‘Be he foe or friend, be he foul or clean, brood of Morgoth or bright Vala, Elda or Maia or Aftercomer, Man yet unborn upon Middle-earth, neither law, nor love, nor league of swords, dread nor danger, not Doom itself, shall defend him from Fëanor, and Fëanor’s kin, whoso hideth or hoardeth, or in hand taketh, finding keepeth or afar casteth a Silmaril. This swear we all: death we will deal him ere Day’s ending, woe unto world’s end! Our word hear thou, Eru Allfather! To the everlasting Darkness doom us if our deed faileth. On the holy mountain hear in witness and our vow remember, Manwë and Varda!’

Thus spoke Maidros and Maglor, and Celegorn, Curufin and Cranthir, Damrod and Diriel, princes of the Noldor. But by that name none should swear an oath, good or evil, nor in anger call upon such witness, and many quailed to hear the fell words. For so sworn, good or evil, an oath may not be broken, and it shall pursue oathkeeper or oathbreaker to the world's end.

And then this is the version of the Oath in The Silmarillion:

Then Fëanor swore a terrible oath. His seven sons leapt straightway to his side and took the selfsame vow together, and red as blood shone their drawn swords in the glare of the torches. They swore an oath which none shall break, and none should take, by the name even of Ilúvatar, calling the Everlasting Dark upon them if they kept it not; and Manwë they named in witness, and Varda, and the hallowed mountain of Taniquetil, vowing to pursue with vengeance and hatred to the ends of the World Vala, Demon, Elf or Man as yet unborn, or any creature, great or small, good or evil, that time should bring forth unto the end of days, whoso should hold or take or keep a Silmaril from their possession. Thus spoke Maedhros and Maglor and Celegorm, Curufin and Caranthir, Amrod and Amras, princes of the Noldor; and many quailed to hear the dread words. For so sworn, good or evil, an oath may not be broken, and it shall pursue oathkeeper and oathbreaker to the world’s end.

—

It’s so interesting to see the Oath of Fëanor take shape!

First of all, it’s interesting that the Oath was originally sworn by Fëanor’s sons, not Fëanor himself. The greater role of the sons in earlier versions of the story can also be seen in the line about Maedhros, ‘whose ardour yet more eager burnt...’

There are many similarities between the poetic versions, even down to specific phrases: ‘friend or foe’ to ‘foe or friend’; ‘foul offspring’ to ‘foul or clean’; ‘no law, nor love’ to ‘neither law, nor love’; ‘not moveless fate’ to ‘not Doom itself’, and so on. ‘League of Gods’ becomes ‘league of hell’ and then ‘league of swords’.

In the earlier versions, Morgoth could still have ‘offspring’—the idea that the Valar could have children was to be discarded as time went on. Theoretically, ‘brood of Morgoth’ in the version in Morgoth’s Ring could also mean offspring, but it probably pertains to creatures that Morgoth did not directly create, but that he had a hand in making, such as the Orcs. 

(Only the version from Sketch of the Mythology explicitly mentions Orcs, but it stands to reason that they should generally be omitted, because Fëanor would not have known of them while he was still in Valinor.)

All versions of the Oath threaten violence against those who take or keep a Silmaril, but the version from Morgoth’s Ring introduces ‘whoso hideth or hoardeth...or afar casteth’. And whereas the earlier versions threaten ‘enmity’, ‘hatred’, ‘fierce vengeance’, and ‘wrath and hate’, the version from Morgoth’s Ring explicitly threatens death.

The naming of Taniquetil appears in all the versions after The Flight of the Noldoli. The naming of Varda in witness appears first in The Flight of the Noldoli; then in Sketch of the Mythology both Varda and Manwë are named, and this was clearly to become a central feature of the Oath.

The naming of the Allfather first appears in the version from the Quenta Noldorinwa, and again in Morgoth’s Ring, and this was also to become a central feature of the Oath. In the version in The Silmarillion, it is emphasized even further: ‘by the name even of Ilúvatar’.

The Quenta Noldorinwa also introduces the pivotal element of the Everlasting Darkness, which had not been mentioned up until that point, but would obviously persist into later versions. 

The element of the drawn swords also first appears in the Quenta Noldorinwa, and their swords shine ‘red as blood’ in Morgoth’s Ring in language that is identical to the passage in The Silmarillion. The phrasing ‘which none shall break, and none should take’ is also identical to The Silmarillion. 

It’s also interesting that the version in The Book of Lost Tales says the sons of Fëanor swore an oath of hatred against ‘Gods or Elves or Men’, but then the versions from The Lays of Beleriand do not mention the Oath being directed against the Gods, but this element returns in the Quenta Noldorinwa and persists to Morgoth’s Ring (which adds Maiar to the list) and The Silmarillion.

Overall, as the Oath of Fëanor evolved, it seems that it became much more dangerous and malicious and took on ever greater significance in the story. It was never not dangerous, but the Fëanorians kept adding to their list of enemies until they were threatening to pursue to the end of the world any creature, good or evil, who should possess a Silmaril. The imagery of the drawn swords shining red as blood, which appears in the later versions of the Oath, emphasizes the intent behind it.

And although the Oath was already called ‘unbreakable’ in The Flight of the Noldoli, in later versions the sense of its finality and binding nature is much stronger because of the naming of the Valar, the naming of Ilúvatar, and invoking the Everlasting Darkness.

I made this chart to show the evolution of the Oath over time:

Also, Morgoth’s Ring introduces the sentence, ‘For so sworn, good or evil, an oath may not be broken, and it shall pursue oathkeeper or oathbreaker to the world's end.’ This raises an interesting problem: if an oath cannot be broken, then there can’t be oathbreakers. But it says such an oath may not be broken; clearly it is possible to break. (This is backed up by the fact that, in some versions of the story, Maedhros foreswore the Oath. That isn’t the outcome Tolkien ended up choosing—but it shows that it was possible.)

On a final note, it’s also interesting that the Fëanorians threaten to pursue ‘to the ends of the World Vala, Demon, Elf or Man...’ and then it says such an oath ‘shall pursue oathkeeper and oathbreaker to the world’s end.’ I think that’s it. The Fëanorians swore an oath to pursue their enemies with vengeance—but the oath turned on them instead.

Patches the Calico Plush

So in response to lovely feedback of my headcanon involving Celebrimbor and a patchwork plush cat. Found here. I decided to write a little ficlet of the scenes mentioned. Enjoy the cuteness!

After what felt like an age, he'd done it. Feanor had finally crafted a suitable gift for his grandson Tyelperinquar. It was but a simple, snow white cat plush he spent weeks researching and learning how to make. Finally it was complete and to his satisfaction. The toy had to be perfect, like all his other creations, but able to withstand all that a toddler could throw at it.

He modeled it after the family cat he had as a child, one he named after his mother due to its silvery white fur. He'd let little Tyelpe decide on this ones name later.

Curufin held his tiny newborn son in his arms, sitting by the window. Tyelpe's soft black curls on his head shining in the warm sunlight. It was clear he'd take after his father and grandfather with raven black hair. He snuggled closer to his father's chest as Curufin gently stroked his hair, already fairly thick for a newborn.

A knock at the door captured his attention, his wife answering and letting their guest in. Curufin smiled as his father made his way over to him, hiding something behind his back.

"What brings you to visit us Atar?" Curufin asked.

"I have a present for little Tyelpe. I would have presented it on the day of his birth, but it took longer than expected to make. It was not something I was accustomed to."

"Is that so? Branching out to new creations are we?"

"Just for this little one. Nerdanel and few others helped."

Before Curufin could ask was he needed his mother's help with, Feanor presented the gift. The plush cat was soft, well stitched, and as big as the newborn himself.

"May I?" Feanor asked, gesturing to hold his grandson.

"Of course." Curufin delicately placed his son in his father's arms who brought the toy close to Tyelpe.

The newborn instinctively grabbed at what was placed near his tiny hands. Feeling that it was soft and smelled of grandfather, Tyelpe snuggled into the soft, plush fabric.

Curufin smiled, "I believe he likes it."

Feanor returned the smile, "Good, I made it just for him." Gently his kissed his grandson's head as he yawned, clearly ready for a nap.

                       *                                    *                                          *

"ATAR!" screamed a distressed toddler. Tyelpe ran down the hall looking for his father. Finally he found him with his mother, about to prepare dinner.

Curufin hearing his son's distress turned, expecting to see him hurt with another scrapped knee or elbow. Instead he saw Tyelpe, eyes full of tears, sniffling and holding up his plush cat. 

"M-m-my cat got hurt!" he whimpered, "REALLY BAD this time!"

Curufin looked as he saw on the plush cat's head a big opening, cotton leaking out of it. It was bigger than the usual tears that were a simple fix. This time it looked as if it needed a patch.

Curufin bent down, comforting his distraught son.

"Shhh shhh, it's ok my son. We'll make sure they're all better."

Tyelpe sniffed and whimpered, hoping his favorite toy would be ok.

"Uncle Moryo can fix that up right away." He turned to his wife. "I'll be back shortly, I'm gonna take our son's cat to my br-er, the healer's to get patched up." Afterwards he left for his brother Caranthir's house.

That night Curufin came back and entered his son's bedroom, his mother trying to tuck him in for bed. Tyelpe however refused to go to bed, not until he had his cat.

"Tyelpe," Curufin called. "I have someone for you."

Tyelpe looked up, eyes hopeful.

Curufin then presented his plush cat, now mended and with a little blue silk bow around the neck as a collar.

His son gasped and reached out for his toy, happy the cat was ok. Curufin handed it to him, but something was different about it besides the bow.

Tyelpe looked quizzically at the black patch where the tear had been, then back to his father.

"Moryo said he didn't have any more of the white fabric that was used, but we agreed he could use a different color to make it more special." he told Tyelpe.

Tyelpe looked back down to his cat, then hugged it tightly to his little chest.

"It's ok!" He said, "I'll call her....Patches now!"

Both his parents smiled and lightly chuckled.

"Alright little one," his mother said, "you and Patches better get some sleep."

"Ok!" he replied as he nestled into his warm bed, cuddling Patches. "I love you! Good night!"

"We love you too. Goodnight Tyelpe." His father replied, both parents giving their son a goodnight kiss on the head before leaving.

                            *                            *                               *

Several decades had passed, young Celebrimbor's childhood was ending. It seemed innocence had been lost after all the death and destruction of recent events. The Kinslaying, leaving his home for a foreign land, the death of his grandfather, and now seeing his uncle bedridden and bandaged. 

It pained him to see Maedhros in such a state. He always knew his uncle to be strong, fierce, and protective. Now he saw a weakened, scarred, and nearly crippled elf before him. Celebrimbor hated seeing him that way. It was wrong. He hated how distant his uncle felt, how he struggled to move when he needed to get out of bed, how he often screamed himself awake at night, or how he glared at the stump where his right hand had been. This was not the uncle he knew and loved, and it broke his heart. They had already lost his grandfather and great grandfather, he didn't want to lose his uncle too.

Celebrimbor sat in his room, even though he was old enough to attend any meetings his father and uncles held, he never cared much for them. Not now. Not when they were all the same topic. How to retrieve the Silmarils, to defeat Morgoth, where they should go. He didn't want to think of any more hardships and destruction. So he sat alone in his room, holding Patches. 

Despite long since outgrowing the need for such toys, the cat always brought him a sense of comfort and relief. Now, he seemed to need such comfort more than ever. Over the course his childhood, Patches naturally attained more wear and tear, more patches. What was once a pristine, snow white cat, now became a calico. Celebrimbor liked it even better that way. Despite the damage it went though, it was still well loved.

It was then an idea struck him. A childish, maybe foolish idea, but he didn't care. He wanted to do something for his recovering uncle, but didn't know what he could do, until now. Celebrimbor set out to search for some scissors, thread, and a needle so he could go forth with his task.

Maedhros stood in front of the window to his room, tired of laying in bed. He hadn't bothered to eat the food left for him, he had no appetite and had gotten so used to feeling of hunger whilst in captivity, he payed little attention to it. A soft knock caught his attention, he sighed and turned, expecting one of his brothers or Fingon to be at the door, acting like a mother hen to him.

"Come in." He said. However when he saw who walked in the door, he was a bit surprised. "Tyelpe?"

"Hi Uncle. Uhm, I wanted to give you something." Celebrimbor replied, a bit sheepish.

"What is it?" Maedhros asked, gesturing to bed as he sat down.

Celebrimbor walked over and sat next to his uncle. He then held out Patches, now with a missing right paw.

Maedhros looked at the plush, confused.

"I don't understand."

"I want you...to have Patches." Celebrimbor answered. "I know you get nightmares at night. I can hear your screams."

Maedhros looked away, guilt in his eyes at the thought he was disturbing his young nephew.

"I don't know if it might help, probably not. But when I was little and had bad dreams, I always hugged Patches close, and I felt better. I didn't have nightmares after that." Celebrimbor continued. "I also see how you glare at yourself in the mirror, how you hate that you lost your hand, your dominant hand too. But that doesn't mean you're broken!" Celebrimbor held up the cat for emphasis.

"Patches went through a lot of stuff too, a lot of tears. But she was never broken, and I loved her just the same. Now, she's missing a paw, just like you're missing a hand. But it doesn't mean she's broken. Also...this is all we have left of Grandfather. He made it. I think you should have something he made since we don't have anything else."

Maedhros gave a soft smile, the first in weeks, to his nephew before taking the plush cat. His nephew was still young, still had some childish innocence left in him, even that simple wisdom children could sometimes have. He saw Celebrimbor was only trying to help

"You're right." he replied. "It's also a little bit of home. Thank you Tyelpe."

Celebrimbor smiled, happy this small, seemingly insignificant gesture gave some joy to his Uncle.

                             *                            *                            *

It was nearing the end of the First Age, two more Kinslayings had occurred, this time leaving only two of the original seven sons of Feanor alive. Maedhros and Maglor now trying to move on in their lives, attempted to forsake the Oath, even if only for a short time.

With them, a pair of twins, victims of the last Kinslaying were with them. Elrond and Elros they were named. At first they had it in their minds to use them as ransom to retrieve the Silmarils, but this thought quickly vanished from their minds. In an attempt to find some hope of redemption, or even try to take responsibility for their actions, Maglor suggested they raise the twins.

Maedhros remembered the Second Kinslaying, how followers of his brother Celegorm cruelly left a pair of twins, the uncles of the two currently in their care, to die. He did not want to repeat his failure at trying to save them. He agreed with Maglor to raise them, if only to help ease some guilt and give a small amount of light in the darkness that had become their lives.

A storm had awoken the twins one night, and they cried out in fear. Maedhros and Maglor immediately ran for their room, the former grabbing a dagger, prepared for a fight.

When they found the twins were safe in bed, merely frightened by the violent storm, they relaxed. Maedhros sheathing the dagger at his belt while Maglor sat next to the pair, humming soft soothing melodies, and assuring them they were alright. Maedhros sat on the other side, going through the motions of comforting children. He was used to this as he came from a very large family, was the oldest of seven, and even helped raise Celebrimbor. At the thought of his nephew, an idea struck him

"Wait here little ones, I have something that may help you sleep tonight. She always helped me when I was too scared to sleep." he assured them.

Maedhros walked out of the room, towards his own. Maglor smiled, knowing what his brother was going to bring them.

Moments later Maedhros returned, carrying something in his arm. Elrond and Elros looked up, the latter clutching his blanket to his chin.

"I want you to meet Patches." Maedhros said, offering the old patchwork calico plush Celebrimbor had given him so long ago.

Elros lowered his blanket, and with his brother reached out for the cat. "Patches?" they repeated.

"Yes," replied Maedhros. "She's a very special friend and member of our family. She likes to help young elflings go to sleep when they're scared."

Little Elrond held up the cat, marveling at the colorful patches. "She's missing a paw! Just like you." he exclaimed. 

Maedhros nodded, "That's right, and just like me, she'll help keep you little ones safe."

The twins smiled and hugged the plush in between themselves and snuggling under the blankets. Maglor began to softly hum a gentle lullaby, one he sang often for his brothers and cousins growing up. Moments later the twins drifted off the sleep. Once again, the patchwork calico had been passed down to those who needed it.

                              *                             *                              *

A new age had dawned, the Fourth Age, the Age of Men, and the elves of Middle Earth made the great voyage to the Undying Lands. Many were eager to reunite with lost loved ones from ancient battles passed. By now many slain elves of the First, Second, and early Third ages had been re-embodied, leaving the Halls of Mandos to find their friends and family.

Elrond had been joyful to see his beloved wife again. She still bared the scars of her attack by orcs, both in body and heart, but Elrond no longer feared for her life. Celebrian too was joyful to see her husband again, although she felt bittersweet at the fact her only daughter chose to stay and live a mortal life. Nonetheless the two were happy to find each other.

After a few weeks of getting used to land of Valinor, a realm Elrond had only read stories and history about, he set out to find a specific elf, one he'd hoped had been reborn.

He made his way to a large forge, near the home of Nerdanel. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the elf working there. Celebrimbor had been released from the Halls.

"It is wonderful to see you again Cousin." Elrond spoke, gaining the other's attention.

Celebrimbor looked up. "Elrond? I can't believe it! The last I saw of you you were helping build an elven city."

"Imladris, yes. It served its purpose well throughout the Third Age. I only wish you could have seen it. However I do have something for you."

"Oh? What would that be?" Celebrimbor asked.

"An ancient family heirloom of sorts. It is only fitting it be returned."

Celebrimbor's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The only family heirloom he could think of were the Silmarils, but that was impossible. His confusion faded when he saw Elrond bring out an old, but very familiar plush cat. Patches.

"I-is that?"

"Patches?" Elrond answered. "Yes, yes it is. This little cat was given to me by your Uncle Maedhros. In turn I passed it down to all three of my children. It has soothed many a restless night for my family. As I have no grandchildren that I will be able to visit, I see it only fitting to return this to the original owner."

Elrond handed the plush to Celebrimbor, who gingerly took it in his hands. He was amazed to see it had survived all these ages. It was very well loved, even sporting a few new patches as well. 

A tear came to his eye. "Thank you." he said. "This means a lot to me."

A small piece of Celebrimbor's childhood and innocence survived. Something crafted by his grandfather out of pure love and devotion survived, untainted. A piece of his family was returned to him. Perhaps if he had children himself he'd pass it on to them. Truly Patches had become a family heirloom. The one that truly mattered, for it was full of love and beautiful, even sad, memories of days gone by. The journey of Patches the calico plush, had come full circle at last.

Empty Pt 2

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 …

Again and again you read the note naming that you were the latest of the Feanoreans to bear their crest coated armor, though the first since the ban, and the first female to do so. The vague note barely answering anything at all but a single tap of your finger on the metal suit made it morph its way around your body making your brows drop as you mumbled, “Of course.” A glance at the now mirror back to the space formerly holding your suit was exposed making you gasp at your fully coated figure in the surprisingly comfortable suit. A light from behind you made you turn and nearly jump into the suit case as Feanor, or rather a recording of him appeared in the center of the room surrounded by the seven men, one including the one you recognized as Maglor. The seven repeating the oath Feanor gave before it flickered out shifting to Maglor and a young girl you had seen growing up in the mirror, only having a small mole above her right eyebrow.

Slowly you sat down on the built in platform for your suit watching the clip of your Mother’s childhood playtime as Maglor recited an oath of his own to always protect her. The clip mentioned his naming her after his Grandmother, whom he’d never met, Miriel, one whom your middle name had come from, and his promise to always keep her safe until it cut off revealing Maglor again with you in his arms this time.

“Jaqiearae,

for all my strengths, I have failed. To all I’ve given my word to defend, I have lost. So this is my promise to you. You will flourish, safe, apart from me. I can only promise you safety in my absence. There will always be those searching for me as long as Melkor and his kin draw breath. When you are ready I will leave you our home, with more than enough to aid you in remaining safe and I will do all I can to draw the forces away from you. Until my mission is complete you will never be safe, I will not rest until that day comes. I pray you take this message from my heart, I love you, you will never be far from my heart or my thoughts, what life I have left will serve your safety and happiness.

Perhaps one day we will meet again. Please never doubt that I love you.”

Over your mask tears rolled and dropped to your knees. The raising of your hand brought the glove to your attention, making you wonder how you would remove it until you jolted upright as the suit folded into a single anklet and bracelet making your eyes narrow before you wiped your cheeks and eyed the room then decided to clean the dishes then head to bed.

…

Work found you again in Erebor after teleporting to an alley behind a string of businesses’ back alleys you passed through to the nearest bus stop where you waited for the bus to take you the rest of the way. Silently you walked inside feeling the Durins gather around you as Bofur asked, “So, what’s it like and when’s the party?”

You turned waving your fingers to lower and close the blinds before you stated, “Oh if you mean the giant mansion complete with a super hero’s secret hide out, perfectly lovely.”

All around you they asked, “What?!”

You nodded and flicked your fingers out after saying, “Oh ya, and Gramps made me a super suit.” The suit encased you making them circle you and tap it curiously commenting on it between your coating yourself with flames and ice.

A loud laugh came from Frerin who said, “Gramps is gonna love your new suit. It even shifts to white when you light up too. Just have to add the boots and gloves to the icon.”

A sigh came from you as you flicked your fingers and it slunk back again after the alarm sounded for a fire. All day you camped out in the nearby set of schools at their bake sales that the on sight ovens were over used to heat up the desserts needed to be served warm setting off the alarms.

The shift ended peacefully at least allowing you a simple trip through the bus back to that alley only to get a private message to your email messenger halfway through the trip, from an [email protected], “I have been wondering all day about the answer to the question of if your emails would continue or not?”

Without anything else available in your mind you simply wrote back, “Since the last time it landed me being interrogated by a King I doubt it will.”

It seemed without pause he wrote back, “Pity. I enjoyed being your shoulder to vent on.”

With a smirk you exited the bus, passing through the alley and zapping into your kitchen again headed to your fridge for some juice, “I think you have enough people venting to you to add my troubles to the mix.”

“Your troubles are not an issue for me. Besides, my Son won’t stop talking about you, asking when you can visit again. What are your days off?”

“Next two days I’m working at the Oblong Museum in Erebor.”

“You’re going to commute each day?”

“I enjoy the commute.”

“What part of the museum do you work in?”

“The hands on science exhibits for children, I’m one of the supervisors, part of my college credits a couple years back, kept it up when they asked.”

“How young can the children be? Legolas is adamant on seeing you, he never takes to people.”

“He’s old enough.” Your simple response made the King smirk as he went to type his response only to catch his aid arrive with a message for him for his upcoming meeting.

“Listen, I have to go. But I will be calling you later, and I will secure permission from King Thror for us to cross his borders for the trip.”

“You don’t have to call if you’re busy. And I’m at the exhibit wed-fri each week, to make planning simpler.”

In a playful narrowing of his eyes he stood as he typed back, “I do have a meeting, I will see which day Thror will allow for our visit, and, if I am lucky you will accept my dinner offer for after you get off work. Have to go, think it over, I will talk to you later.”

A disbelieving grumble left you as you finished your juice and cleaned up your glass then went to go try out your new shower. The enjoyment was short lived as your doorbell kept ringing. After an irritated grunt you wrapped yourself in a towel then went to answer it. Again two Elves bearing the Royal Crest were at the door, only they didn’t wait for anything they simply barged past you leaving you to stammer. You stood clutching your towel in place as the crowd of suit clad Elves after them entered each room while you were nudged onto your front porch eyeing the helicopter in the distance growing closer. Dripping still you turned your head holding your towel in place as it landed then opened to let out the next pair of suit clad Elves with large bags on their shoulders.

With a sigh you stood watching their approach before they paused looking at you as you asked, “Is there a rough estimate on how long it will be till I can get dressed?”

After a glance inside they heard a voice call out, “It’s all clear.”

Their eyes turned to you as they stated, “You can go back in now. We’re here to install the phone line.”

“I have a phone.”

One of them nodded replying, “Yes, but if the King is going to be handling any business from here he will need a secure line.”

With an irritated grumble you fired back, “If the King imagines himself doing anything here he will ask first. You are not installing anything here. Have a nice flight back.”

You stepped inside as the last in the line of stunned first wave of Elves filed onto your porch watching as you closed and locked the door after saying, “Oh and I don’t care who sends you, don’t ever step foot in my home again without my permission.”

Angrily you trotted up the steps hearing them all leaving in debate on who would tell the King about your answer. Mumbling to yourself you heard the storm shutters closing on the windows downstairs as metal sheets slid through the center of the doors securing them as they had the nights prior as if the house knew you weren’t going to leave your bed any time soon.

But once your hair was finally dried and you were snuggled safely under your open sleeping bag on the bare mattress. You laid face down grumbling in a withheld one sided argument on all you should have said when those Elves had barged in through your door leaving you on your own porch dripping wet, where the first set he sent had been so polite.

Without fail not even half an hour later your phone rang from a blocked number and taking a chance you answered it sternly, “I was in the shower.”

In a faltering tone the King stammered, “I, I can call back.”

“When they showed up, I was in the shower. They made me stand outside in a towel.”

With parted lips he smoothed his hand over his closed eyes, withholding the shouts he would be unleashing on his council later, “For the record it was one of my Council members who got over eager hearing of my contacting you again and sent out the tech team. I owe you more apologies than I could count.”

“I suppose it was their way of making it even.”

“You sent me emails, you didn’t put me out in my towel without permission or warning. I do swear it will never happen again.”

After a sigh you asked, “Why would you need a phone line at my house?”

Again he covered his eyes with his hand, “I mentioned a dinner for the two of us, assumptions were made.”

“Assumptions. Hmm.”

Curiously he shifted in his seat, “Why say I like that?”

“Don’t you have a meeting?”

“My Council can wait.”

“Consider the matter forgiven with a warning.”

“Consider me warned.” He replied in a purr.

You rolled your eyes adding, “You haven’t heard what the warning is for.”

Continuing his purr he asked, “And what would that warning be?”

“For every thing you add to my home I get to add something just as, invasive, to yours.” He let out a weak chuckle and you said, “Be nice to the over eager council and enjoy your meeting Your Majesty.” Before he could answer you hung up and sighed rolling over to bury your face in your pillow while he smirked pocketing his phone chuckling at his feeling so out of the lead position in this possible relationship.

He stood and let out a deep breath dropping his expression to return to his meeting he was torn from ignoring the worried stares of the freshly informed council in his struggle not to show his mind lingering on the imagined sight of you dripping wet in nothing but a towel.

Pt 3

SO, HEY, YOU WANT A PRIMER FOR WHERE TO START WITH LORD OF THE RINGS/THE HOBBIT/SILMARILLION FIC TO READ? The other night @belldreams asked me if the fic I was currently reading (as I mentioned that I’d been enthralled by it) was accessible to a layperson and, sadly, I don’t think it is.  But then my eyes lit up with an unholy glee because I do know a bunch of fics that are great for a layperson to read! I assume that a person will at least have seen the movies and are thus reasonably aware of how Tolkien’s world is set up, but you don’t have to know the history of the world to start reading these!  This is a list that is aimed at gently easing a person into the wider fandom or just providing a starting place, if that’s what you want! LET’S INTRODUCE YOU TO SOME FUCKIN’ ELVES: ➡ I have a series of posts about The Silmarillion which are told in a Very Broad Strokes kind of way and not always in chronological order (so maybe you should start with the first fic rec instead? idk!) and they’re still in progress, but I had a great time with Let Me Tell You About The Silmarillion:  Part One, part two, part three, part four, part five.  (The rest are written, I just need to post them!)  They’re cute, ridiculous yelling about my Elf Feelings and won’t take a person that long to read.  (And it’s a lot of names to throw at a person, but, hey, you can always come talk to me spoonfeed you another overview, if you like!  ♥) ➡ Or you can listen to the audiobook here!  I warn, even with having the audio on in the background, it’s still a very dry and dense prose.  I love it!  But it’s definitely not going to be for everyone. ➡ But if the whole thing is too much and you just want an overview, I also really liked this series of Lord of the Rings Mythology (part 1, 2) that will take you less than ten minutes to listen to and they set up the basic structure of Powers in this world. ➡ A good quick overview (only 10 minutes of talking) on Feanor and the creation and then theft of the Silmarils.  It’s definitely more on the side of asshole!Feanor, but, well, they’re not wrong!  There’s a whole series of videos to tell about the history of Arda, all of which are generally under 10 minutes each and are good overviews!  Caveat:  Don’t trust the pronunciations here, they’re off sometimes.  But, then, that’s a thing all over--they’re hard! ➡ I also laughed at The Silmarillion in under three minutes, which acknowledges how much it skips/gives only the very broadest of strokes on (so you may be tempted to assume things, but there’s very often deeper reasons) but did indeed get the story in in under three minutes! OH BUT YOU WANT SOME FIC TO READ: The Silmarillion Rewrite by Jenavira - A fic that lovingly “translates” the Silmarillion from the admittedly very dry style Tolkien has and this is a great fic to start with if you want to get an idea of the shape of the Silmarillion.  It’s hilariously funny and does a great job of familiarizing you with the characters!  My only caveat is that you can’t take it as gospel, it’s not the same as reading the book yourself, because some things are open to interpretation--for example, in reading the fic, it sounds like the Dwarves gained sentience on their own, while in the book I think the takeaway is that Iluvatar granted them sentience, as he’s the only one able to give true life in that way.  I say this not to argue, but to remind potential readers that Tolkien fans have been debating this stuff for decades for a reason!  (And also I’m a Thingol stan for life, but I admit not everyone shares that bias with me.  XD) But absolutely read this fic, it’s hilarious and does a stellar job at being just a fun read and getting you to know who the hell Maedhros and Maglor and Finrod and all of those people are, the history of the Great War with Melkor and Sauron, how all of this is important to the history of Middle-Earth and the rest of the world. The Starlit Sky by Makalaure - You probably need a little context for this one, but it’s not hard to pick up!  Basically:  Once upon a time, a brilliant asshole made some shiny rocks that everyone wanted, Fantasy Satan stole them, he and his seven sons swore an Oath to get them back, a lot of really bad shit happened because they were bound to that Oath, and eventually two of the sons attacked the havens of Elrond and his twin brother Elros’ parents place and killed a bunch of them and then wound up with two Elflings on their hands.  There, now you can read the backstory of Elrond and Elros growing up in the care of Maedhros and Maglor and cry about feelings with me.  Because, yeah, by the end of this one I definitely had tears in my eyes for understanding how Elrond could love these Elves, even after all the terrible, terrible things they had done. WHAT ELSE YOU WILL FIND HERE: -  OR INSTEAD EXPAND ON THE CHARACTERS YOU ALREADY KNOW -  OR READ SOME FELLOWSHIP-CENTRIC STUFF, JUST ‘CAUSE THEY’RE GOOD -  NOW THAT YOU’RE MORE FAMILIAR, HERE’S MORE COMPLICATED FIC

OR INSTEAD EXPAND ON THE CHARACTERS YOU ALREADY KNOW: In a Field of Blood and Stone by ScribeofArda - The Battle of the Five Armies, this time told from the point of view of the Elves.  One of my biggest criticisms of the movies (especially The Hobbit movies) is that they did the Elves so wrong and this fic can be read without having ever picked up any of the books, but I think it does a lovely job of showing what the Elves should be like, especially Thranduil.  There’s some great stuff with him and Legolas, as well as Bard and Bilbo have great roles.  Also, it’s just a incredibly engaging fic that adds such rich detail to that battle! Interrupted Journeys by ellisk - This series is legitimately my favorite in the entire fandom because you can read it without knowing anything beyond the movies (though, they’re not really movie!characterization and instead truer to how Elves really are) but you can also pick up so much on Sindarin politics, if you’re familiar with them.  The first time I read this series, I didn’t really know that much about who Thingol was, other than some Sindarin king, but I followed the context of the scenes referencing him just fine.  Later, once I was more familiar with the Silmarillion, I gained a ton of admiration for the thought that went into this fic, the history of the world, why most Silvan Elves loved Thranduil, but some did not and why a Sinda ruling Silvan Elves was still a thing even thousands of years later. But it’s also just an incredible series of stories about worldbuilding for Greenwood the Great, it builds up characters for important relationships with Legolas and Thranduil, ones that I deeply care about, and it has an incredible plot, that spans over a million words and never, ever stops being enthralling.  And yet my favorite moments are probably the quieter ones, the little Elflings getting into trouble in various ways, how their parents talk to them, as Elves do, and the absolutely stellar characterization of Thranduil especially.  My only caveat is to start with Part 3, because that’s when Legolas is born and I think it’s easier to get hooked from there! daw the minstrel’s fic - I love pretty much everything of daw’s, the Legolas’ childhood and stories about growing up in Mirkwood are wonderful.  There’s a fair amount of OCs (whom I have grown to love!) that you can skip over the scenes when they’re not interacting with a canon character (Thranduil or Legolas) if you like, but are ones I’ve found myself rereading several times because they just do so much good at plot and worldbuilding!  They’re all wonderful, but the ones I started with where All Those Who Wander, Good Neighbors, Legolas’s Begetting Day, and Growing Under Shadow.  They’re all set in the same universe at different points in his life and all fantastic! Ich Dien - To Serve the KingdomMissFaust - This was written before the third Hobbit movie came out but I love it and it’s one of those that I think a layperson could read just fine!  It’s been completely Jossed by BOTFA but I think it’s still readable and it does a much more gorgeous job of taking the movie versions (at least in the first two movies) and writing them with more care and staying true to their spirits.  Also, it’s just really cool worldbuilding! OR READ SOME FELLOWSHIP-CENTRIC STUFF, JUST ‘CAUSE THEY’RE GOOD: A Bit of Rope by Aiwendiel - “What if Gandalf had survived at Moria?” is the question this fic poses and it’s not especially a nice answer.  Things do ultimately work out but it kind of leaves you with the impression of the canon version of events, as difficult as they were, were what was necessary for the best outcome.  This one is something of an exhausting read, but in the way it’s meant to be, in how you absolutely feel Frodo’s journey with him.  It’s gorgeously told and I was absolutely engrossed by it and I think it keeps the spirit of the canon incredibly well.  And it’s basically like five novels worth and yet I tore through them at a speed because OMG SO GOOD. The River by Indigo Bunting - Another gorgeous Fellowship-era fic, where Legolas and Sam accidentally get separated from the main group and you think that it’d be such a random pairing and yet it works brilliantly well.  It adds such depth to both characters, it does beautifully at writing both of them and this world they’re in, and just slides right on by as you read it.  It doesn’t sound terribly exciting when I put it that way, but it really is! Far Horizons by Bodkin - While there are other post-canon fics that I love, I think this one has my heart in a way that others don’t, because it’s my favorite one for Thranduil and Legolas in the Fourth Age.  There might be some characters you’re not familiar with (like Elladan and Elrohir) but I don’t think there’s anything you can’t pick up from context.  Basically, Thranduil, Elrond/Celebrian, and Celeborn/Galadriel are all finally in Aman and they want to establish their own realm--this is the story of the difficulties of that.  It’s such a sharp and clever story, there are so many genuinely charming and hilarious moments, there’s a great polish to the way the story is told, and it really builds a community for these Elves in a way that is both pleasing to my id and to my nerdy worldbuilding/character-loving side!  And there’s even plot!  I couldn’t ask for more. NOW THAT YOU’RE MORE FAMILIAR, HERE’S MORE COMPLICATED FIC: And What Happened Afterarrogantemu - As much as I would deeply and truly love to shove this fic at everyone who’s ever flitted by the Tolkien movies at any point, it’s one where you need to know who these people are and their histories before you can read it.  You need to know who Feanor is, you need to know who Celebrimbor is, you need to know who the Valar are, etc.  Once you do, though?  Oh, this is quite possibly the grandest post-canon fic I could have asked for.  It’s everything I never knew I needed--Feanor and Fingolfin’s reunion brought me to tears, Frodo and Celebrimbor’s conversation made me physically ache for how perfect it was--and it’s written in such a gorgeously cathartic, beautiful way.  I felt the lushness of the world in all the little details and conversations written here.  I felt peace at what was put forth here.  I fell in love with Silm fandom all over again because this one sparked such love in me again. Return to Aman by bunn - This is the first fic of the author’s I read and I just sunk right into it and didn’t want to come up for air whenever I could read on it.  It’s the story of Elrond grabbing Maglor before sailing off to Aman at the end of Lord of the Rings and what happens from there.  It’s a gorgeous look at what happens when the main story is done, at Elven politics and characterization, and the Feanorians trying to heal.  It doesn’t negate what Maglor was a part of or what the Oath meant, what others suffered because of his deeds, but also it’s such a kind fic and so it’s incredibly Elven.  I fell in love with this and it breathes such life into all the characters (god, every single scene with Finrod makes me fall in love with him more, how is that possible, how am I not already at maximum Finrod love!? and yet LOVE HIM MORE I DO), it’s so sharp and clever, that I really loved it. Quenta Narquelion by bunn - This is the fic I was reading when bell asked me if it was accessible to a layperson and, for all that it’s a retelling of the events of The Silmarillion, I think it draws on too much context from before they got to Middle-Earth (it starts in the immediate aftermath of Feanor’s death) for that.  But once you know the shape, it’s a gorgeous story for breathing life into the characters and the events that took place--not shying away from the horribleness of what they’re doing, but also showing that they are still Elves, that they’re not just evil, because they weren’t.  There’s such charm and charisma in this writing, there’s such a strong sense of the world and how all the pieces were moving, and how it makes everything so interesting that I love it.  I especially recommend it for the Maedhros & Maglor & Elros & Elrond feelings because BOY DID I HAVE THOSE. Oak and Willow by Potboy - Marnie writes absolutely beautiful fic and this one is no exception!  This is another “gap filler” fic and I think it might not be wholly readable by laypeople just yet, but if you have a vague understanding of the Silmarillion, it’s GORGEOUS.  One of the things about Tolkien’s world is that it’s told from the point of view of the Noldor, so OF COURSE the other Elves all look like jerks.  What this fic does is then tell the story from the Sindar’s point of view and suddenly there’s a whoooole lot more context going on here!  It’s gorgeously done and, oh, if you like Galadriel or want Celeborn to have more depth, to understand why Galadriel loved him in this author’s hands, it’s a brilliant read for that.  Gap-filler or just really great characterization/worldbuilding, this fic covers both. This Taste of Shadow by Mira_Jade - This is a collection of various Tolkien prompts and there are so many incredible gems here.  It spans from the Silmarillion to The Hobbit to The Lord of the Rings, it spans from the Elves to the Men to the Dwarves, they’re all here, at some point.  Sure, primarily it’s about Elves, but the Elves are the ones we know the most about, and I think you need to know The Silmarillion to read this, but once you have the shape of it, this is some fantastic filling-in-the-spaces pieces with a boggling amount of variety of characters!  You can skip around to your faves if you like, if a chapter depends on reading another one first, it’ll tell you, and so pick your beloved character and there’s probably a gorgeous fic in here about them!