#but guys Noldor had Men and Dwarves as allies

[victorie552]

Ok, so Noldolantë, "The Fall of the Noldor" is a lament composed by Maglor about what happened before, during and after First Kinslaying at Alqualondë. It's such a good song that it's played regularly in Aman and Valar listen to it often (I swear, I swear it was in the Silmarillion I just can't find it now).

It's also a more or less common fanon that Maglor continues writing Noldolante through the whole First Age. Makes sense - it's about fall of the Noldor, and Noldor did a lot of falling back then.

Headcannon time: So my first thought was that Noldolante must a long, long, long epic of a song. So it probably has many parts, right? Iliad has 24 books/parts, somehow I think Noldolante would be at least just as long, and there are longer epics. And again, just like Iliad, unless you're a scholar, in the daily life you don't really listen to/read the whole thing, just reread and repeat the most dramatic fragments. What I'm trying to impress upon you all is that the story would have different segments, or chapters, if you will.

And if Maglor continues to write the story during the FA, there would absolutely be a moment in the lament where the OG Noldolante becomes Noldolante 2, and even Noldolante 3. There may be the same musical motif or something, I decided that Maglor IS that good of a bard to keep it all consistent enough so you know it's all the same story, but the style changes a lot - it's been 400 years in the making, let The Music Elf have fun!

So, Point 1: Many, Many Parts, basically Maglor's FA WIP

My second thought was that, while Feanor invented his alphabet, elves learned their history mostly through oral tradition aka songs and spoken stories. Noldolante is definitely a historical record, where a historical event was archived for future generations.

(It was a also a way to deal with grief, guilt and blame Maglor and all Noldor have faced regarding First Kinslaying - free therapy! But that's not what this post is about)

Archived.

My 2.5 thought was that Noldolante isn't just recallings of how pretty and horrified the beach looked during the murdering or how mad and sorrowful the sea was at everyone during the voyage or even how awesome and charismatic Feanor looked during his speeches that every single Noldo was ready to fight Morgoth barehanded in his name - no, this is a record of who killed who, who got killed by whom, and how.

Noldor and Teleri knew each other (were friends, even!) before the First Kinslaying, so I'm confident that after a lot of interviews, detective work, and cross-referencing, Maglor could and would create a very good... name list. Practically every Noldo and Teler present during First Kinslaying would get a stanza in a song, more if he killed someone, most if he killed many people. Killers and killed would show up twice, first in a fragment listing the killers and their victims, then in a part listing the victims and their murderers. Basically it's the same thing twice, but from different POVs. With when, where and how included.

(It was seen to be in bad taste to compare kills during Maglor's Regency, when most of his interview-part work happened. People did it anyway. There were a Saddest Kill, Funniest Kill, and Weirdest Kill discusions. There was a Tier List. These were weird times to be a Feanorian Noldo.)

(It WAS in Bad Taste, but at least people talked about it. I cannot stress enough how much free therapy this lament provided)

(Little did they know, when Teleri started getting reembodied in Aman, they had very similar discussions, but more in a "I can't believe he killed me like THAT" way. Long, long, long after the First Age. Noldolante is a gift that keeps giving)

So, Maglor had all the historical grith and no common shame to create a "We Killed All These People And We Feel Bad About It" banger of a song, and every Noldo had a very personal reason to at least remember the fragments they are in. It's a hit on a scale never seen before.

(I'm not sure how to tackle the issue of Nolofinweans and Arafinweans learning about Noldolante after crossing the Ice. But there were discussions. There was anger, there was "????", there was controversy. Basically, the song got bigger and bigger rep no matter what your opinion on it was. By the time of Mereth Aderthad it was an important cultural and political piece and at least Fingon's forces were included in the main song. It had parodies.)

Point 2: Archive Function/Kill count storage. Cultural phenomen, every Noldo included

This is where my personal nonsense begins: Main Noldolante was done, there was nothing more to say about First Kinslaying, all killings and deaths were well documented.

But the Siege started. And the Noldor kept dying.

It was less dramatic than it sounded - between the big battles the siege was maintained, but orc raids also happened and sometimes one to few Noldor died in skirmishes. The legal procedure was to document the death of a fellow elf and send a word to king Fingolfin. The cultural procedure, technically started by Feranorians but adapted by many more, was to send the name, common characteristics and cause of death to Maglor's Gap. After few months, King Fingolfin would send reinforcements, short condolences and financial compensation if they had family. After few months, family of an elf would also receive a personal lament for them and a place for them in a Noldolante.

Yes, every lament Maglor created in that time was technically part of the Noldolante. Noldolante 1.5, if you will. Laments make in that time were very customized, and simpler than Noldolante Main, but were still considered a part of the same song. Of course, nobody was expected to know and remember laments for every single Noldo, younger Noldor born in Beleriand could even only know fragments about their family members. Only Maglor would ever know Noldolante in full, but it was understood that everyone had their place in The Song.

The results of Great Battles were harder to document, but Maglor did that. Of course, Dagor Bragollach was hard on him personally, but he worked his way through.

(High King Fingon forbade creating laments for his father. There were no songs for Fingolfin. Apart from in Noldolante, of course. Of course. Maglor did not share the lament with anyone, but he sat long hours and many nights with a blank paper before him, looking at the candle flame and thinking of the past and the future. The song unsung, but there)

Nirnaeth was... Maglor was never more hated and more approached at the same time than then. Still, Noldolante grew and grew, as if people knew the end was near.

It was Second Kinslaying that destroyed the myth of Maglor's song. Feanorians didn't know the Sindar they killed, but surely, they couldn't just left their names unmentioned like they did with orcs? So, Noldor talked, but the battle happened in caves - it wasn't uncommon to find dead bodies in empty rooms, with no witnesses to what happened. Surviving Sindar didn't want to share any names, even when Maglor strong-armed some into talking with him, and good for them. Maglor made a big lament anyway. Maglor, wild, with no shame and dead brothers, with legacy crumbling around him. Noldolante, with holes.

After Third Kinslaying, Noldor didn't want to talk. Lament for Sirion didn't have any names. Clearly, songs weren't a way to go anymore, it was always about live witnesses. And so Maglor raised the twins.

Lament for Maedhros was sung repeatedly. There was no one to hear it.

Point 3: Only Maglor knows Noldolante in full. But that doesn't matter, because everyone knows the important part: the Noldolante is finished. The Star of Hope rises in the West and the story goes on. The Fall has ended.

#silm #silmarillion #noldolante #maglor #yet another post that went in different direction than I planned #started with meta went into headcannon and ended with fanfic angst #I wanted to end it with crack!!! #I mean. I mean #it all makes kind of some sense if we're talking about elves here #but guys Noldor had Men and Dwarves as allies #Maglor would want them in his Historical Record song #I think with Dwarves they would mainly refuse when he asked them if they wanted a part in Noldolante #so maybe he would only get some allies and personal friends of Maedhros in #but Men #guys Men. they would agree and they would make lists and it would become Clown City so fast #but Sons of Feanor aren't known for their ability of knowing when to quit #so Maglor has a Noldolante 3.0 Standard Version with 254 Parts that has Elves and an Occasional Dwarf Only #and Special Version Noldolante Deluxe Extra Edition with 547398134 Parts that includes Men #everyone is included you don't have to die in battle #all common causes of death have a dedicated jingle to them #to the point you know a man's cause of death after 3 notes #these parts of Noldolante well the music bit actually survived into the Fourth Age #the words are gone but the music is played at funerals in some places #The Noldolante Main survived only in parodies though #actually Finished Noldolante is a very good thing huh #as in no more Fall of The Noldor #they can finally catch some break #I believe that during Maglor's Regency Era all Noldor did was Processing. and breeding horses. #Noldolante? more like Maglor Finally Discovers Shame: A Story #I think some personal revelations on legacy and connections between children and life's works would be made

[blankdblank]

All Is Fair

This is Pt 1 of my submission for @sdavid09‘s fright night challenge

Also a request from @lilith15000 for a Thorin x OC x Thranduil ramble i turned to a Modern AU. Should just be two parts, hope you guys like it :D

...

“Close your eyes,” the voice of your mother echoing in your ears, “and breathe.” Steadily you inhaled easing your metal ring and chain armor coated fingers over the grips of your thrusters and at the peak of your exhale your eyes snapped open at your hands jerking back propelling you forward. The glowing silver eyes you bore signaled your link to Leifje, the ship you were piloting, straight through a shadowy wall. Liefje coated in a lightning field warping around it easing the split of the shadowy wall in your section with twelve more pilots around you breaking a path for the carrier ship behind you with more soldiers headed for the ongoing battle.

There was no secret about it, the Noldor began it. An endless war over three shining jewels, jewels now since recovered and yet the aftermath tipped the world into chaos. An old evil broke free and his henchmen were running amok. As the eldest daughter of the late Jewelia Wife of High King of the Vanyar Ingwe, Nieninque, adopted younger sister to Feanor, the King of the Noldor who bore the brunt of backlash and blame for the war he triggered, you were head of the allied forces reluctantly working together at last to end this damned war.

Under your lead, and none of your adopted kin, as per the arrangement with the other Lords and Kings the alliance was headed. With your Eagles of war heading the charge through the shadowy borders the forces in the ground did all they could. Eagles, mithril craft bonding only to one Vanyar pilot, the only race able to handle the crafts without dying at the instant of the bond also found to enhance the natural powers of the pilot used in attacks combined with the guns making them lethal to any creature or craft up against them. Noldor known to harness fire yet Vanyar known to harness all elements including Lightning, a force known to kill average Men upon striking, a harsher form of fire bending aiding in the natural control over metals and in the rarest bloodlines even sand in their strong ties to the earth.

On top of the enhanced physical training Elven forces were given your elite team found a fabled level as the elite of the elite with few ever truly understanding just what you were truly capable of. The Eagles themselves sentient craft dwelling where they pleased between runs though most ever truly wander far from their pilots unless requested upon by them, both able to shrink and grow to amazing sizes to compete any task needed to get the job done.

The Hobbits aiding in special masks and vaccines to aid with the poisoned glasses and weapons.

The Dwarves for mainly brute force along with highly specialized weapons to aid in breaking through walls and buildings.

Elves for their long distance weapons, naval and air fleets to help the ground forces on Men mingled in between to aid with healing and sheer numbers to keep gaining ground. More and more the shadows were forced back but still most of those waiting back at home while this debilitating war continued prayed for peace to come sometime in their lives, yet one among them found another reckless plan he hoped to unfold a lasting peace for his homeland under barrage daily.

*

A distant tent grew larger at the heavy crunching of gravel under the dress boots of the disguised Prince Thorin. His patience worn thin and even in his youth a few silver hairs had streaked into his dark brown locks at the weight running a kingdom at war bore on him. Monthly there were attacks by Erebor’s oceanic borders newly formed, since the Vanyar relief addition to the war did nothing but split the earth between the countries to make it harder for the dark forces to spread, also making it more difficult for trade and reinforcements to be passed between countries. Though for the faults to their ideas the train industry was now booming at the building of bridges and speedy carriers for transport and travel that would pass under the seas parting the kingdoms for added safety.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and the naive Prince was very desperate to have the responsibilities of the throne pressed back onto his grandfather. The front flap was eased back and a veiled woman slunk forward, old and gnarled her hands reached out to usher him closer to her table with a glowing crystal ball on it he tried not to look at for fear of what he would see.

“I know what ails you child.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

A toothy grin eased across her face barely visible through the veil also helping to shield her bright golden eyes, “I know all, and see all that ails those who enter my tent. The better to aid in their woes.”

“Your solution?”

“You wish for peace and protection. I can grant you that, though it will have a price.”

“How much?”

Her finger raised to rock back and forth, “Not that sort of price. No, the price will be one lie.”

“One lie?”

“Yes, you will tell one lie and none will question it. That is all, no more, no less.”

“What lie?”

She grinned again through a wry chuckle reminding him of the sound of scraping rusty metal, “You will not know it when you tell it. One little lie, and your people are free from this war.”

Thorin nodded and inhaled offering his hand to rest in her offered palm, a single thread was drawn simple and white she secured around his wrist that blended into his skin painlessly, “That is it?”

She nodded and stood, “That is it. Go now, enjoy your peace.” Showing him back to the flap.

For all he had heard of this fabled witch be still questioned her powers and on his path back to the main road again he turned to give the tent another glance. As if to see her laughing with another at his foolishness only to find the tent and small run down city it was in gone leaving him alone in the middle of nowhere.

…

A curious blend of ease and nostalgia washed over the Prince when a month had passed and an attack never came. Though what did come were several reports from his siblings in their own designated battalions along with a strange new face. A weekly stroll found a woman washed ashore on the beach and brought the Prince full sprint to her rescue. Discovering a distinctive mark on her skin. A tiny brown acorn on her shoulder, marking her as the Prince’s mate.

Not a single moment was wasted and the pearly skinned woman seemingly out of a fairytale swept into the path of the Prince’s life was welcomed openly when her health was restored. Mau, the golden eyed damsel quite easily swept all away with her charming giggle and dazzling smile, clearly intent on earning the Prince’s affections in return.

None were the wiser and in his sleepless nights hoping his relatives would return soon his price was left to little but a glitch to him. “How much could it really hurt, one little lie?”

*

Decades now a single carrier pilot traveled your route, one of the worst, Dis Durin, the most fearless of the pilots willing to risk all to get the forces straight to where they were needed. Under constant fire and through bustling stops in military bases an unlikely friendship was made, one pilot with another a working path forged a friendship after a single event.

. Years Prior .

Up in the main cockpit of one of the open carriers a small blonde boy with bright blue eyes darted up and clambered his way onto the seat who stood and barely was able to see anything out the windshield standing up. A grip on the thruster signaled a whirring sound along with a sigh from above. Open mouthed at the sudden sound of the engine revving Dis’ mouth dropped open and her head swiveled in search of her young son who supposedly went off with her husband to the bathroom, now to be seen searching himself. In a race Dis hurried onto the carrier, up the ramp, through the base floor and up the staircase finding the white blonde curl filled messy bun on the Head of the Eagle Forces dangling from the ceiling.

In her inhale readying to apologize she saw the Elleth’s arm drop down pointing at the boy saying surprisingly in Khuzdul, “See that blue switch, flick it for me.” Releasing the thruster little Fili in the Elleth’s pop back up into the wiring compartment flicked the switch, a click followed by a few pops and clicks later until the Elleth rolled forward through the hatch to land on her feet under the self sealing hatch. Crouching down she grinned at Fili saying, “Thank you. Finally, an aid worth assisting me in repairs.” Her stunning violet eyes halting the Dam in place when they met her cerulean pair, “Good to know I’ll be having another soon to help out even more.”

A single twitch of Dis’ brow was followed by the Eagle’s second in command calling out, “Snowflake! Raid orders!”

With a nod she ruffled Fili’s hair earning a giggle from him in saying to Dis, “Be glad to hear when you’re off maternity leave. Roarkin irritates the living hell out of me.” Strolling out the cockpit the aloof Elleth who seemed to stun and chill all with just her mere presence in the area exited leaving them frozen in her absence.

One year leave was demanded leaving Dis on the base left to the passing of orders bringing her into the path of her friend between missions until a final clearance of paperwork had her practically bounding up to the cockpit to dust herself off for her first flight back.

One mission after another the Orc forces were pushed back even more and with the decades passing the Durin Princess and obscure Elven Commander solidified and the pair drew notice and prestige in their longstanding partnership leading to soaring success for the allied forces.

. Current Day .

Loud gunfire ricocheted around the mithril hull of the carrier and breaking the joking commentary on the animated film you would spend your weekend watching once again, even though you had seen it a thousand times before. Whipping through a line of orc jets you sighed seeing the sky blue passenger jet in a shimmering protective bubble not far ahead of you, “Dis we’ve got a civilian craft.” Hours you had been trying to blast off the hostile jets on your tail and you linked your radio to the other Eagles stating, “I’ve got it.”

A firm grip on the thrusters later and you jolted forward towards the passenger jet. Upon reaching it Liefje lowered through the useless bubble against your craft and split open at the mask spreading across your face from the mithril band above your armored collar that sealed to the base of your neck in the straight drop from your seat. An oval portal dropped from your open ship spreading across the top of the passenger jet allowing you gracefully land inside on your feet stunning the tall blonde who instantly straightened up and brought his young son beside him from his own cushion behind his back as much as possible.

Without looking at them you strolled through to the cockpit while Liefje morphed around the hull and roared up its engines at your mental order signaling the seal was secure. Past the hall you approached the pilots who turned and eased back seeing the feather accented plates on your armored suit and mask. A few twisted knobs and pulled levers and their engines shut off allowing you to divert the plane out of the targeted zone closer to the Elven borders. “Just a slight detour.” In a glance at the silenced alert radio you added when your mask receded back to your collar, “Next time keep your scanner on.”

Turning around in your stroll back to the main seating your eyes rose to meet the eyes of the Elven Prince Thranduil’s, his forced stoic façade terribly hiding his fear at even the Eagles so easily boarding his ship melting at your ethereal presence. “It seems you’ve stumbled into quite fire show Sugar.” Instantly his brow arched up and at your smirk his son behind him whispered your nickname between giggles and your eyes turned to the screen on the wall while your ship released the jet and eased onto its side moving the portal over the door behind you.

The bargaining between Sophie and Calcipher in your favorite film made you smirk until through your ship you heard a transmission from your crew, “Ugh, if I didn’t have to head back to ranks. Right when it gets good, too.”

Turning to look at the Prince again when he stated your smirk deepened making a blush begin to form on his cheeks, “And just who might we have the honor speaking to?”

With a giggle you replied, “Someone of little consequence to you Sugar.”

Inhaling steadily in your turn as you heard Calcipher say, “And here’s another curse, may all your bacon burn.”

You giggled again hearing the Prince ask again, “You did not answer my question.”

A full smile split across your face and he swallowed dryly at your quick wink, “No name to give. I’m one of a kind.” A backwards leap sent you through the portal that sealed behind you in your mid air turn to land back in your seat turning back to the carrier headed for the Iron Hills for more forces to fill it.

Briefly you were off touring the base on which you had landed for a meal with the Princess who drew a load of attention while more and more Dwarves continued to ponder who you were. So highly ranked and yet with a nickname of Snowflake leaving little respect to be imagined for you except by the complete obedience of those under your command making strangers even fall in line you were quite the mystery.

Family was rarely discussed except by Dis and was mainly centered around her boys, at least until a lazy repair crew team had you showering in her assigned quarters freeing a glimpse of a tiny brown heart on your belly along with a tiny brown acorn on your shoulder years back. The sharing of who your One was did little to woo you to Erebor as you were dedicated to ending the war and little else could distract you just yet.

That one stunning meeting with the Elf Prince had left more of an impression that you had imagined, a simple pair of sentences traded with the blonde and you were now a popular topic within the Palace. A topic now only slightly muffled at the shout inducing announcement that Prince Thorin had found his One, with Dis furious it must be a lie as only women could have multiple One’s. For all his efforts Thranduil and even King Oropher had little access or rights to know the names of any Eagles

.

Filled to the brim from Iron Hills back to the Blue Mountains Dis’ carrier crossed through another dark barrier only to skip in breaking free sending the alarms spinning as a late shot from an orc ship you had taken out skimmed across the wing scraping the engine causing ti to smoke. “Dis, keep it level I’m boarding you.”

Dis, “What am I missing?”

“I’ll tell you when we land.”

“That is far from comforting Snow.”

In the circling of your Eagles they provided cover while a barrier linked Liefje to the carrier allowing you to fall through into the hull near the wing you felt Liefje mold around the ship while Dis stated over the intercom, “Excuse me passengers, thank you for choosing air Eagle for your transport needs. It’s going to get bumpy so if you wouldn’t mind buckling up and keep your screams to a minimum. Thank you.”

Rolling your eyes you unlatched the cover to the wing secures at your facial mask popping up in your climb through the latch now filling with smoke from the engine ready to blow. A few careful jerks of your metal coated hand and the securing bolts were torn free and in your slide back into the main hull you felt the wing slipping away. The hatch sealed behind you and sprinting off towards the cockpit you felt eyes on you in curious and fearful stares seeing you move so quickly in the silent carrier echoing with distant explosions and roaring orc engines chasing after you. Up the steps and around a corner you hurried into the opening cockpit catching Dis’ gaze turning to land on you wide eyed in your approach as your mask folded back.

“Respectfully Dis I’m taking control.” Nodding her head she watched you hop into the seat beside hers flinging your leg a bit higher to avoid the gearshift rising between your legs in your landing. Silver eyed you used your link to Liefje to keep a view on the orc ships chasing you into the sunlight blinding them out side their cloaked zones of darkness and shadows causing them to drop their darkening blinds on their windows leaving them to their pulsing scanners. Gripping the controls in a wide turn a hint of a wing dip then rapid rise sent the unsecured wing off towards the offending ships. In a ripple at your alarm filled turn the offending trio exploded with two more ships foolishly soaring through the wreckage while you struggled to keep the carrier level with the aid of Dis’ hold on her shifters now mostly useless at the lack of a wing.

Dis in a struggled glance at you said, “Please tell me that wasn’t my wing.”

Reaching up to jerk on a lever you grunted back, “I thought we had a no lies policy.”

A growling exhale left her and she said, “I think I would much rather the lie this time.”

You nodded and said, “Sure, then no, that wasn’t your wing.”

She nodded, sarcastically saying, “Good. I knew you wouldn’t just climb on board and fling my wing off at orcs.”

Unable to help it you giggled and grinned out the sky ahead of you in your guiding the carrier off towards Elven territories far from Moria, your intended destination for the soldiers weary from lengthy tours in combat expecting a safe return to their bases in the Dwarven keep. A stretch of ocean between you and the safety of a runway stretched on out into the horizon with a tiny speck of Great Greenwood, Amon Lanc territory more specifically, growing in front of you. Patrolling those oceans giant carriers with tiny jets sounded their own alarms making you roll your eyes again at the warning message they sent informing you of the unapproved approach. “What a croc. Again with the alarms.”

“Dwarven carrier you are encroaching on Elven territories without authorization. Continue your course and you will be fired upon.”

Linking back to the closest carrier you stated, “This is carrier BX 2794 coming in for an emergency landing.”

“BX2794 you are not authorized to land here.”

“Do me a favor, look East, hi,” aboard the ship through the binoculars reflecting light back at you curses flew from those peering out at the single winged monster carrier soaring across the ocean towards the Elven strip in base right on the coast with the aid of your Eagle flying above you at an angle holding you steady. “That’s my authorization. This big beast is currently holding 5000 bodies inside and I am landing so you call whoever and say whatever the hell you need to because I am landing and any vessel firing upon us will be met with the same courtesy.”

You huffed and cut the transmission feed then glanced at Dis whose eyes met yours, “That did not go well it take it?”

“Better than I thought actually.”

“Oh, good.” She nodded trying to remain calm, “I’m going to be court marshaled for this aren’t I?”

You shook your head, “No, I pulled rank, took control. I will make sure you aren’t penalized at all.”

“I doubt even an Eagle could promise that.”

You smirked at her, “You’d be surprised how accommodating people can be for a snowflake like me.”

“I thought the Noldor and Silvan hated one another.”

Your head tilted slightly, “I wouldn’t say hate.”

Stretches of green came into view behind the strip you were to land on inside the evacuating base echoing of another loud alarm, though in the first sight of your smoking carrier the Elven forces froze and turned once on the edge of the base pointing and shouting in awe at your smooth landing. Carefully Liefje helped to guide the carrier into the stretch of asphalt you were ordered to park in. There a securing banister was set up to prop up the remaining wing to help with the weight difference while the Dwarven forces inside were allowed to file out and see the state of the carrier while over the oceans the remaining trio of orc ships were reduced to ash bringing your Eagles after you. Refusing to leave the carrier on the control panel in the cockpit you linked into the messenger system for your headquarters confirming that you had landed safely and with a rough estimated list on what parts you would need. A second message was sent to Moria alerting them of the detour and clear health status of all the passengers soon to be diverted by rail to Moria by sunset.

Dis along with the others watched as, once the threat of fires was handled, the carrier was moved inside a long since used hangar. Within an hour a supply of tools and replacement parts arrived by rail and you got to work setting it all up how you required to get the job done. The message you had given to the ocean carrier had been played for the King and then replayed confirming by the Crown Prince that it was the voice of the same woman who had boarded him a couple days prior.

A sudden arrival of the Noldor King Feanor had spiked tensions already alarmingly high after your landing. Alongside Lords Ecthellion and Glorfindel the tall King with pitch black curls secured in a long braid down his back strolled closer to the carrier with clear sight of you removing the sheared off bolts you would use to secure the replacement wing that would be replaced by morning. Seated on a bar from the securing brace you pulled another bolt free you dropped into the bucket below listening to the sound of King Oropher speaking with Feanor.

Oropher, “We have done everything to ensure the repairs go on as scheduled for quick return to service. It was quite a marvel of a landing, one wing.”

Feanor, “Well I would never have doubted this teams skills.”

Glorfindel, “I doubt any would.”

Thranduil on his left stole another glance up at you and his expression dropped as he swallowed trying to remain calm just getting closer to you as Feanor said, “There should be little to keep repairs from the schedule either.” Under the carrier he called out, “Isn’t that right Snowflake?”

In a sudden backwards drop to dangle from your knees the men eyed your suit tied off around your waist revealing your rib length vest usually hidden underneath it “I thought I recognized that bleating.” Your grin doubled in a giggle at the upwards tick of his brow in place of his smirk he was withholding at the open mouthed stare of the Silvan King and Prince, “No need to worry old Goat should be up in the air again tomorrow.”

As if the nickname wasn’t stunning enough their eyes wandered over your toned core where their eyes fell on the brown tiny heart there making the Prince’s heart skip a beat at its naming you his One. Oropher wet his lips then said, “Surely there would be no need to rush away. Or, at least we could arrange a proper tour.”

Raising his hand Feanor wagged a finger then raised his hand to grip yours, “I knew you would play nice, see making friends already.” Releasing a leg you flipped forward planting your foot in the small of his back followed by your knees easing around his sides in your arms resting on his shoulders, in a glance over his shoulder at you he smirked, “When’s the last time you ate?”

“Sunrise. When’s the last time you ate old Goat?”

He nodded then pursed his lips, “Sundown yesterday.”

“Mhmm.” In a giggle you hoped off his back and stole a glance at the Prince giving him a beaming smile, “Hey Sugar, see you landed safely.”

Feanor’s hand settled on your head guiding you to turn speaking in Vanyar, “Try not to embarrass Prince Thranduil.”

With a smirk you replied, “He looks so cute when he blushes though.”

Oropher looked you over again in a glance between you both stating, “Yes, you were the Eagle assisting my Son and Grandson to safety earlier. Thank you for that. I am in your debt.”

You shook your head, “Not at all.”

In Feanor’s arm propping up on your shoulder and your lean against his side Thranduil stated, “Forgive me, but we have yet to catch your name.”

Feanor clicked his tongue, “Impossible as always Snowflake. King Oropher, Prince Thranduil my Sister Nieninque.” Both their mouths parted just barely then they gave a gentle bow of their heads, “Who prefers anonymity on her runs, and enjoys giving me an exceptional record to look up for her flight plans past this scuffle. No doubt a late hit, we rarely get damage to our birds past a few scrapes or singes.”

Thranduil, “Princess Nieninque, leader of the allied forces?”

With a smirk from you his blush deepened, “Everyone calls me snowflake feel free to do the same. No special treatments here.”

Oropher, “How does that work exactly? You being the leader and all?”

“I fly and fight same as anyone else. Besides many a leader has been brought down by peacocking around. As long as I am safe they are. The longer between injuries and smoother the flights rank matters little compared to statistics comforting troops entrusting us with their lives.”

Oropher nodded, “True. We have a lunch prepared if you are up for it.”

“I doubt Feanor will eat if I don’t, after you, Your Majesty.”

Oropher replied, “Oropher will do nicely.” You nodded.

“Think on it, no time for changing your mind later.” Your grin stirring an unexpected chuckle from the stoic King at seeing Thranduil shifting to be closer to your side for the walk back to their chosen quarters on base.

Oropher grinned at you, “I am certain.” A few more yards and they began the climb onto the open jeep waiting there, on which Thranduil’s eyes scanned over you lingering on your stomach.

In your climb up you lowly stated, “Careful there Sugar,” when settling beside him at his eyes snapping to your face your foot rose to prop up on the back gate saying, “Someone might think you were after my heart.”

“I, well, I would hope so.”

Your brow ticked up, “What?”

“Your, I, have your heart.”

“Really now? Sugar-,”

He pointed at your stomach and shook his head, “That one. I have that one. On me.”

“Ah.”

His brows furrowed curiously, “You’re not happy?”

“I-.”

“I do not meet your approval?”

“I did not say that.”

“I’m not-,”

Your hand rose muffling the end of his sentence making Ecthellion seated behind you turn to see what was going on between you in your hushed conversation, “We’ve spoken twice, don’t be so quick to assume what’s rattling around in my head.” In lowering your hand he nodded and you said, “Besides, I believe there is someone you should be discussing this with before you go settling any plans.”

“I’m not married.”

“Even so, there is a smaller arguably more adorable and easily confusable version of you to consider.”

“Smaller-,” A short pause later he inhaled sharply then stated, “Legolas, my Son, yes.”

“Plus there is the matter of this war.”

He nodded, “Yes.”

The simple meal, in which plans to invite you back for a full tour were solidified after news of your shared bond with the Prince was voiced. Tentatively the subject of courtship was breached, though until you could be learned more about while Legolas grew more accustomed to your possible union or even acquaintance to ease his path in this ordeal as well.

That momentary slip of his revealed something he hoped to find in his One, a woman first thinking of his Son over any tie to him, a fact you seemed adamant of, that you would not accept an offer of courtship until Legolas had given his blessing unwarranted to know he wasn’t being pressured into accepting you. That statement swayed the King over any brashness of your character upon first glance, you saw to the needs and comfort of those around you whether under your chain of command or not.

Sure enough after a sleepless night the new wing was fitted in place and on the cusp of sunrise you and Dis had the beast back up in the air for its first test run. In a steady path back over the ocean you crossed paths with those same carriers who cheered and waved complimenting your skills. Landed once again on that same airstrip you spotted that same jeep waiting there with the Crown Prince beside it. Once landed the back door was dropped and Dis was off to gather the few battalions remaining to assist in reloading the carrier with all its supplies while you handled the controls check list.

Softly feet fell up the path to the cockpit where in the doorway Thranduil sat curiously eyeing all of the various controls around you. Without a glance at him you said, “Nearly done then we can go to breakfast.”

Steadily his eyes scanned over you in your pale jeans and grey sweater hugging you tightly to your hips where the hem bunched up revealing strips of your skin there from the harness you had undone moments prior. “I wish I had more of a claim to ask you not to go.”

Pausing for a moment at the smirk having inched across your face then you raised your leg over the control as you hoisted yourself up with a grip of the back of the seat. One foot landed and was met by the other freeing the Prince to get a full look at you, “I’d have worn something nicer but aircrafts have very little space for gowns, only what you can roll up.” Moving closer to him you saw the clear ache in his eyes and settled your hand on his chest only deepening his look of desperation to cling to you holding you back from racing off back into war. The contact alone brought him closer, “You can’t look at me like that and not expect-,”

A sign from you came as he moved closer, barely a foot away humming back, “Expect?”

Closing in even more his forehead barely touched yours as you replied, “I’m leaving in three hours.”

A slow shake of his head and he closed the distance lowly pleading, “Don’t go.”

That firm aching first kiss melted into a hungrier second with a tilt of your heads, blindly arms fumbled around your back and his neck in a firm tug and the stolen awkward binding kiss of Ones lost in a war torn trail separating them soon abruptly ended at the Elven guard calling out to the Prince. Inhaling sharply in a break for air now pinned against the back of your former chair your forehead met his and you whispered, “I’ll be back in a week.” Clamping his eyes shut the Prince tugged you a bit higher to burrow his head in the crook of your neck in a tight embrace you returned around his shoulders while just for those few moments everything from your scent to the feel of your hair and skin was burned into his memory with your bodies melted together.

Released from his hold your eyes locked on his and his hand eased from your upper back down to your hip. There his fingertips eased under your shirt where he laid flat his hand against your skin sliding it upwards revealing your now periwinkle colored heart mark. The shift in color marking your clear bond, without a pause his free hand rose to cup your cheek and the distance was closed again in another firm fiery kiss breaking like the first at the call of his name. Reaching up your hand folded around the wrist linked to your middle and you said, “We should go.” Nodding his hands retracted after another gentler stolen kiss and as you brushed down your shirt it shifted around your back to settle there for the short walk out of the carrier.

A short drive had you back at their house on base where the younger Prince grinned when seeing you again and hopped up with hand extended to introduce himself fully. The entire time he peppered you with questions until the band around your wrist chirped causing you to turn over your wrist to pinch the sides reading the Braille message lit up and scrolling across the screen. Silently the men watched only to stand as you said, “Mmm, they need me for final preps.”

Legolas hopped up and in a leaning hug against your legs he asked, “You will come back?”

With a grin you settled your and on his head answering, “In two weeks, yes. One more trip out West then I have a weeklong leave.”

At that his face lit up, “You’ll be here for a week?!” in a bounce he added, “There’s so much to show you in just a week…We’ll fit it all in! I promise!” Again he hugged your legs tighter stirring a grin onto your face, “Stay safe!”

“I will.”

He broke his hold and Thranduil reluctantly joined you for the drive back, up until you were in walking distance he remained silent, breaking with a single question, “I can write to you?”

In a pleading gaze his eyes met yours and melted into a hopeful smile as you fired back, “You better write to me.” A card pulled from your pocket was passed to him and you hopped out then turned to face him in a backward step, “Just send them there, they’ll make sure I get it.” He nodded and took a deep as you smiled at him replying with a giggle, “It’s only two weeks, Sugar.” A wave from him mirrored yours, quick and barely noticeable before your turn to jog over to the carrier starting up after its back hatch was sealed.

Liefje on the side ruffled his featherlike paneled wings and moved closer to you in the morphing of your suit around your body from the bands on your wrists and ankles. A single hop up through the open hatch on his chest later and you climbed through the small tunnel and took your usual seat feeling the rings of your gloves folding around your fingers and the backs of your hands that slowly eased around the controls for a sharp signaling call from Liefje moments before he shot up into the air with the other Eagles behind him.

*

A letter had opened and upon reading the letter against his glee at having publicly addressed Mau as his One stunned to the core Thorin read aloud to himself in a weak whisper, “Courting Prince Thranduil…” The woman Dis had claimed to be his true One was now bonded to and beginning a courtship with Prince Thranduil. “Can’t be. She just can’t be mine…” His mouth and heart seemed torn but nothing had prepared him for the searing burn from his mark, a new common reaction since hearing from Dis about his supposed One and when they would be encountering danger.

All he knew was that something was wrong. Something was wrong and he needed to make things right. Once this mess was all dealt with he would invite you out and inspect your mark for himself. Dis was coming to Erebor for her week long leave and would see Mau for herself and see that he was not imagining things. She could see, and hopefully help him understand what was going.

*

Again sight of your Eagle came into view and bouncing on the end of the tarmac Prince Legolas stood beside his father, who spent the past two weeks flooding your usually empty mail bag with any and everything he could think of to fit in letters to share all he had wished to of his life to get a better footing of a relationship. Between his came a trio of letters from Legolas packed with questions and stories of his own, as often as you could muster you wrote back, and heart warmingly the weeks had both stretched on and flew by. You had never dreamed of being one to receive love letters, and though it had no clear proclamations of the emotion simply the sheer volume of them and intimate moments contained showed a hope for one day having love between you.

A drop through Liefje’s chest had you landed on your feet with your mask and suit retracting for the stroll over to the royals as Liefje took off to find a place to sleep. Again in jeans and a sweater you draped your bag over you shoulder with all you might need for a week eagerly Legolas rushed forward and glancing down you eyed the still heated tarmac making you rush closer seeing the smoke under his feet lowering his gaze that snapped up to you when you lifted him to your hip. With a grin you caught his gaze saying, “When the orange flag is raised it means this is heated for the craft tires.”

“Oh.”

Softly you chuckled then said, “It’s ok, we’ll just have to get you some proper boots if you plan on coming down often.” To which he nodded then smiled starting to share all he had bottled up for plans for your trip, through which Thranduil stole a brief pat on your side and guided you back to the waiting car that would take you to the Palace. Though quickly upon arrival both the King and Crown Prince were stolen away and without their watch you were limited to the Palace. Leaning back against the lounging couch in the theater you chatted with Legolas through Howl’s Moving Castle in which you shared your favorite bits about it that you connected a great deal of items and flying crafts inspired by the film.

By dinner the King and Prince returned to find you both getting along famously, and by the end of the week you and the boy were inseparable. Few moments were stolen by Thranduil to be alone with you in his hectic days with heavily guarded trips for you and Legolas. Your final moments however came with Legolas tapping your leg, crouched down you accepted his tight hug, “Please don’t go.”

Weakly you chuckled replying, “I have to. I’m sorry.”

A sniffle from him came before he whimpered into your shoulder, “But who’s going to love Ada if you leave?”

Lowering your hand from the back of his head you pulled him back and caught his gaze wiping his cheeks while Thranduil stood with lips just barely parted understanding what his Son had just said, “Don’t cry Little Leaf. I am coming back, but I do have a job to do. I can’t leave all the fighting to the others, and wars can’t last forever.” He nodded and you leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose after another sniffle of his and he tapped his forehead to yours in another pout, “We’ll keep writing, just like before. I’ll be back, and you keep that journal of yours up, I can’t wait to see what you can dream up.” Stirring a smile back onto his face in another nod signaling you to stand and turn to look to Thranduil who moved closer then folded around you in a tight hug at your offer, “Come here. I’ll take no pouting from you either.”

Lowly he chuckled and stepped back as you did watching you turn with a nod at his saying, “Expect a letter upon your landing.”

“I don’t even know where I’m off to first.”

He smirked back at you, “Expect a letter all the same.” Making you giggle and turn away for the trot back to Liefje who ruffled his wings excitedly after his week to recharge.

All –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim, @jotink78

X Thranduil - @evyiione, @sweetlytenacious25, @tigereyesf

x Thorin – @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @queenoferebor

#Tale Teller's Fright Night #Thranduil x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr

[heartofoshun]

Silmarillion Questions: Tagged by @jane-ways

 – thanks for thinking of me!

How do you think the Oath worked practically? I like to write it as magic—it sleeps and then awakens under certain in-world pressures and then it is all but impossible to resist. I think Tolkien wrote it under the influence of belief systems in the Northern tradition which considered one’s sworn oath to be sacred—to break it was the lowest thing a warrior could do. For him, it makes a great story conflict—absolute fealty to a sworn oath even if it will lead to one’s doom. He makes us love the Noldor (he does!!) and then rips our hearts out. Incomparable storytelling. But the guy is filled with contradictions. His modern, Catholic-self thought that the oath could and should be broken if in contradiction to other moral issues. (It’s a long discussion. Too long to have here.) I ask myself, how come the good characters in The Silmarillion are not nearly as appealing and attractive as the ones Tolkien wants us to judge? Accidental or intentional? Were the Valar in the right to bring the Elves to Valinor? No. The One/Eru never intended the Secondborn (Men) be left alone in Middle-earth to face Morgoth and without the aid of the Firstborn (Elves). I do not doubt the good intentions of the Valar, but they did not consider the implications of their action. And they did not consider that not all of the Elves would appreciate the trade of freedom for a gilded cage. They claimed the Noldor were free to leave, but then cursed them—leave and you can’t come back, no help from us, and unnumbered tears you shall shed—wow, harsh!

Which Silm character do you find the most relatable personally and why? Probably Fingon. I love his loyalty and his courage. He is a real hero over and over, rescuing Maedhros alone, facing down the first dragon they encounter, acting as military commander-in-chief throughout his father’s reign. His extraordinary personal heroism and his epic friendship (or more) with Maedhros makes him incredibly attractive, but his political instincts and leadership qualities were sound also. He is said to have “resolved to heal the feud that divided the Noldor, before their Enemy should be ready for war.” While he lived, he was able to hold the Noldor together, despite differences, after their reconciliation, which he, along with Maedhros, had engineered. If you could ask one character one question (to get clarification on their motives, to ask their opinion etc), who would you ask and what? Finrod.  I’d like a fully developed and detailed answer as to why he came to Middle-earth. I adore Finrod—what’s not to like—but there is not a clear enough motivation for leaving. An urge for travel and adventure? Intellectual curiosity? An attachment to his cousins? I’d like to hear it from his POV. Would you have gone with Fëanor, Fingolfin or Finarfin?I’d have follow Fëanor – the revolutionary who thought for himself and didn’t accept received-wisdom without reasoning. He fought for the rights of his people to make their own decisions and for their self-determination. By the time the Valar had released Morgoth, he had no reason to trust their judgment over his own. It’s canon that he did many things better than did them. I am inspired by Fëanor’s words, along with the 90 percent of the Noldor who left Aman: “We are threatened with many evils, and treason not least; but one thing is not said: that we shall suffer from cowardice, from cravens or the fear of cravens. Therefore I say that we will go on, and to this doom I add: the deeds that we shall do shall be the matter of song until the last days of Arda.” I’m not nearly as moved by the motivations of the others or lack thereof. Fingolfin did what he saw as his duty: not to abandon the Noldor, to avenge his father, and, originally, with perhaps a bit of ambition to hang onto the crown. Finarfin withdrew to make his peace with the Valar (and his wife’s people, whom he loved; and his mother and her people whom he revered). I do not condemn Fëanor’s brothers’ motivations out of hand, but only say that for myself he would have been the one of the three who could have lit a fire under me. What do you think was the determining factor/reasoning behind the Doom of the Noldor? Does it hold for scrutiny in your opinion? It was a threat pure and simple. There should have been no punishment at all. Quite the contrary, they should have been willing to help them out in Middle-earth, early and often. One cannot offer aid only with precise and restrictive conditions that effectively take away one’s freedom to make decision (as much the Valar argued that was not their intention). Who is the scariest of Tolkien’s characters? That light-sucking spider who scared the shit out of Melkor himself. Any other versions of a story you prefer over the version published in the Silm? I tend to like the Silmarillion the best.  But I do like so many of the added details. The ones that add to backstory and flesh-out characterization. Things like Law and Customs Among the Eldar not so much. In my own stories, I had constructed an outline and written a novel and a couple of novellas before I ever encountered certain characters. So, I was not prepared to go back and re-write those. Favourite story of the legendarium and why? There are so many! I first was attracted to Fingon rescuing Maedhros and the two them reuniting the Noldor. I loved Fingolfin bringing so many of the peoples of Middle-earth together at the Mereth Aderthad, despite Thingol’s resistance. I love Fingon and Maedhros’ bromance/romance and their maintaining the military alliance that held back Morgoth for nearly 500 years. I love all of the sons of Fëanor (Curufin a little less than the rest—Sorry! I know he had a hard life—just like his father only not nearly as brilliant—poor guy!). I count Huan among the Family—what a hound! He’s the good part of the story of Beren and Lúthien—the rest is kind of a snooze for me (heresy, I know). I love Fëanor and Nerdanel—the power couple of the power people! OMG! I want to reunite them! I love Finarfin (despite him make the wrong choice about going into exile)—love his wife and his kids and his non-Noldorin preference for the Telerin names and customs. I adore Tuor—especially the part of coming to Gondor and running into Voronwë, the sea god, and the swans, and finding the armor (that’s awesome storytelling!). Of course I love Arehel and Galadriel! Dark and light. Impulse and cunning. Wonderful women, who should have had more space. I love Idril, getting her hands dirty as an engineer in Gondolin and saving so many, with a little help from Ecthelion and Glorfindel and her husband. I love Idril and Tuor’s baby Eärendil—so heartbreakingly cute—dipping into HoMe for that! I love Ecthelion and Glorfindel—the descriptions of those two alone would make me love them without their deeds.  Giving short shrift here to the Sindar—but I have plenty of crushes among them also: Daeron, Beleg, and Mablung. How about Húrin saying good-bye to his wife and kid and his brass balls at the Battle of Unnumbered Tears? And Azaghâl  at Unnumbered Tears: “the Dwarves raised up the body of Azaghâl and bore it away; and with slow steps they walked behind singing a dirge in deep voices.” I want to see that filmed. Last but not least, Maedhros, Maglor, Elrond, and Elros! There are so many more great storylines and so much delicious heartbreak! Almost forgot to mention how much I adore Finrod--so much so that he get’s a citation from the bio I wrote for him: “He is a brilliant, beautiful, golden icon, bigger-than-life, and shaped from the same heroic mold as all of his flame-eyed compatriots, those notorious and charismatic Noldorin Lords of the West. If that were not enough, Finrod is also a great wizard, a friend to Men and Dwarves, and loyal to his allies and closest kinsmen, even when faced with safeguarding their dirtiest secrets. While his virtues are extolled well beyond those of any of his cousins or brothers, Finrod remains just flawed enough to be sexy.” And non-Quenta Silmarillion stories? Well, there is that three-volume book about the Third Age and its outcome. Not to mention Númenor. Don’t make me chose! The latest thing you learned that made you reconsider or change your view on something in Tolkien’s world? Honestly, I do that constantly. I have to admit I get the most enlightenment from within the fandom and not from the voluminous works of Tolkien scholars I read when I am doing research for my own non-fiction ruminations. Thoughts on Fëanor not wanting to share the Silmarils after the Darkening? I have to agree with @jane-ways who said it felt “like it had more to do with his distrust of the Valar than selfishness.” And, not even Fëanor himself could replicate them for a part of his life force was spent in their creation. Nonetheless, the Valar insisted that he relinquish them. Only Aulë appeared to understand the breaking of the Silmarils would result in the destruction of Fëanor. He told his brethren: “We ask a greater thing than thou knowest. Let him have peace yet awhile.'” Of course, they ignored him, the one amongst them who understood Fëanor best.

I’m tagging @vefanyar, @himring, @nimium-amatrix-ingenii-sui @lucifers-cuvette, @ignoblebard , @grundyscribbling   @imindhowwelayinjune anyone else who would like to answer!

#silmarillion questions #noldor lover #all the doomed elves #canon heretic