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chloedrewitt · 2 years

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𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙎𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙨 - 𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙪𝙞𝙡 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

summary: You are captured in Mirkwood after you defend yourself from a drunk guard who mistakes you for the enemy, and brought before the Elven King. Due to a misunderstanding, he is expected to punish you, but how could he when you look exactly like his dead wife?

pairing: Thranduil x Reincarnated!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: mentions of assault, protective!Thranduil, age gap (MC is an adult)

a/n: just a quick little one shot I had the idea for while watching RoP and reading up on Lotr lore. No smut, just Thrandy reuniting with his wife.

Request status: open [info]

Taglist: @evyiione

If you wish to be added to or removed from the character taglist, please comment underneath this post.

Masterlist - Ko-fi

“The Children of Ilúvatar are described as existing in two parts: they have a spirit or soul (fëa) [...], and a body (hröa). [...] When an Elf dies, the fëa leaves the hröa, which then dies. The fëa is called to the Halls of Mandos, where it is judged. If allowed by Mandos, the fëa may be reincarnated into a new-born body that is identical to the previous one.”

- Fëa and hröa, The One Wiki To Rule Them All The grip around your arm was so strong that every time you moved, it hurt. You glared up at the guard next to you, though his gaze was fixed ahead. From where you were kneeling on the floor, he looked four meters tall but you knew this was only due to your perspective. It was dehumanizing, and for the first time, you understood how animals felt shortly before they were slain.

You were sure this would be your death, too, even though you had not even done anything wrong, at least in your eyes. All you had tried to do was defend yourself from the anger of a drunken guard, but these people seemed to take his word over yours.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the guard bow down deeply as steps appeared in the distance, growing louder with each second that passed. You dared not raise your gaze, so you remained with your eyes locked on the floor, your long hair shielding your face from curious looks like curtains. Not that anyone else was in the throne room, but it was still comforting to know you could hide.

You had never seen the Elven King in person, at least not this close. Most of what you knew was based on stories told throughout the kingdom. Many thought he was the most beautiful of all Elves, others called him cruel and heartless. Though it had not stopped you from wanting to join the guard one day when you were little, but now, as an adult, you realized that it would have only held you back.

The King climbed the stairs to his throne, onto which he lowered himself gracefully, crossing one leg over the other and placing his right elbow on the arm rest. His index finger traced the edge of his jawline as he watched you closely, but you refused to meet his eyes. The guard next to you straightened his back again and increased the grip around your arm even more, which made you growl.

“Tell me again what happened,” said the Elven King, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. It was powerful enough to fill the entire throne room, despite there being no walls to separate it from the hallways in the castle.

“She attacked Erynor while he was on patrol,” the guard replied, giving you a disapproving stare.

“Unprovoked?” The Elven King tilted his head to the side, his long platinum hair falling around his shoulders. You felt his eyes on you and it almost made you nauseous.

“Yes.”

“That’s a lie!” You intervened, wanting to stand but the guard forced you back on your knees as soon as you made the attempt. Pain shot through your legs when your knees met the hard floor. “It was self-defense. He-” Your voice cracked, anger clouding your mind. “He was drunk and mistook me for an intruder.”

You had raised your head by now and were looking directly at the Elven King. But he didn’t answer, he simply stared at you with his lips slightly parted. You, too, stopped in your tracks and tried to sort the unexplainable wave of recognition you felt the moment you properly laid eyes on him. You had never seen this man before, yet you were sure you knew him.

“This is most likely a lie to protect herself. Erynor is the most honorable member of the guard. He would not be intoxicated while on patrol.” The elf next to you did not seem to notice his king’s sudden change in mood, so he proceeded to talk down on you. It was not hard, given you were a lowly born Elf, left on your adoptive parents’ doorstep when you were but an infant.

“Let her speak,” ordered the king as he rose to his feet, his eyes still locked on you. You withstood the intensity of his gaze, partly because you couldn’t look away yourself. Only when you felt the guard let go of your arm did you turn your head towards him, rubbing the sore spot where your skin had reddened.

“I was gathering herbs in the forest. The safe parts of the forest,” you clarified, taking a step towards your king as he slowly descended the stairs. Your eyes met once again. “This… Erynor insisted I was here to collect information on the state of the Woodland Realm, to give to our enemies. I explained to him I was a jeweler’s daughter, here to collect herbs for my ill mother but he did not believe me, especially not in his state.”

You swallowed, dropping your eyes for a moment. When you looked up again, you saw that the king was standing a few meters in front of you, his height not any less impressive now that he was on the same level as you. The man clasped his hands together behind his back as he nodded towards the guard still standing beside you.

“Leave us.”

“My lord, are you certain-”

“-she will hardly be a danger to me now, will she?” He asked, sarcasm and annoyance in his voice. The guard gulped. “Leave us.”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, studying the king as the guard’s steps slowly faded into the distance. Only when their echo stopped, did the king approach you further until you were closer than you’d deem appropriate.

“What is your name?” He asked with a gentler voice as he looked down at you. Not in a condescending way, like the guard had, but with curiosity in his eyes.

“(y/n),” you replied, digging your nails into your still crossed arms. His presence was overwhelming and magnetic. Being this close, you could hardly look away. The corners of his lips sank slightly and he averted his gaze at your answer, disappointment briefly marking his features. You swallowed, not sure whether you had said something wrong.

“Forgive me,” you began hesitantly, drawing his attention back to you, “but have we met? I recognize you from somewhere but I don’t quite know where from.” His eyes widened, making you fear you had somehow offended him by implying someone from low birth as you could have crossed the Elven King before.

“I meant not to offend you,” you added, a bit too quickly to do so gracefully.

“Not at all.” His voice was reassuring, and he closed some of the distance between you. His hands lingered in the air, as if he was debating whether it would be appropriate to touch you, but decided against it when he lowered them again.

The Elven King and you were alone now in the throne room, with only the occasional sound coming from somewhere above you two signaling that the castle was not abandoned. You wanted to say something, but he seemed to go through an internal conflict just by looking at you.

It took a few moments more, but he caught himself again and exhaled deeply, his features relaxing. “I will have Erynor investigated. Do not stray too far from the palace until then.”

You nodded, rubbing the palms of your hands against each other nervously. Curiosity made you stand still, despite obviously having been dismissed. He had already turned his back on you, ready to return to his throne, when he stopped in his tracks and turned his head to the side. “Is there anything else you wish to say to me?”

“You know me from somewhere, don’t you?” You asked, hiding your shaking hands behind your back. You had never been one to do as you were told, and sometimes your curiosity got the better of you. Something your adoptive parents had told you to work on.

When he didn’t answer, you took a step forward.

“Please,” you said silently, hoping to perhaps find a clue about your roots.

He exhaled deeply, turning slowly to face you again. “I do not wish to burden you with the shadows of the past. It is a weight I must carry alone.”

But this answer did not satisfy you, so you took another step forward and said, “I carry enough burdens already, one more will make no difference.”

The Elven King chuckled sadly, eyes flickering between yours. “You sound a lot like her.”

“Who?”

“My wife.” A pause followed, but you remained silent. “She died in my arms on the battlefield years ago. Longer than you are alive, I presume.”

You placed a hand on your side, tears threatening to fall. “How-” Your voice cracked, so you took a deep breath, before you said more loudly, “How did she die?”

He followed your hand with his eyes and furrowed his thick eyebrows as he took another step towards you. “A sword to her side.”

You gasped, a tear rolling down your cheek while you dug your nails into the fabric of your dress. Your mother had always joked that it looked like a sword wound, and she had even speculated that you must have been a soldier in your previous life.

“I have a birthmark there,” you said, voice shaking slightly. “It looks like the wound of a sword.”

Though no memories came back to you, an overwhelming wave of emotions made it hard for you to think properly. It was as if you and the Elven King shared a connection that had been severed, and was now slowly being restored. You felt the warmth of his hands as they ghosted above your shoulders, which were exposed by the dress you wore. The hairs on your neck stood on end while a single name came to your mind. It was not like you recalled something you had forgotten, but rather an instinct.

“Thranduil,” you said breathlessly, and you saw that he was barely able to contain himself. His hands found their way to your cheeks, where his thumbs gently caressed your skin. The king’s name was not commonly known across the realm.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispered, his own eyes becoming glassy. “I was ready to go to war over what you have left me. Thank Mandos for sending you back to me.” His breath brushed your skin, his thumb gently pushing down on your bottom lip before he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

You felt it then deep in your bones that this was the Elf you loved, despite not having a single memory of him. It stung a little, but you found comfort in the fact that you would make new ones.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you had to stand on your tip-toes to reach his lips, the kiss sending a warm feeling through your body. With flushed cheeks, you pulled away to whisper, “I won’t leave you again.”

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your pointed ear. It did not take a lot to see how your death in your past life had broken him, but you made a promise to both him and yourself. You never had a home to begin with, perhaps this could be the start of what you’d always longed for.

Then, his eyes darkened and he looked at you with determination. “I will see to it that no one ever touches you again. And those who harm you will pay with their lives.”

You placed a hand on his cheek, offering him a kind smile. It was tragic how the things we loved the most, and the things we so desperately wanted to be our saviors, often ended up being our greatest ruin. But you decided then and there, that you would not become his. Not ever again.

#thranduil #thranduil x reader #legolas #the hobbit #lord of the rings #lotr #lee pace #protective thranduil #elven king

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velvet4510 · 20 days

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Something about Bilbo and Thorin’s love that gets me is…it just wasn’t supposed to happen. Dwarves weren’t supposed to exist. Hobbits are relatives of Men; they were always part of Ilúvatar’s plan and were among his children. But Aulë secretly created the Dwarves when he wasn’t supposed to, and Ilúvatar gave them life knowing they would always be different from his own children and those races may never get along. This is why I disagree with the common notion that Bilbo and Thorin were “soulmates”; in a world governed by fate, the connection between them - these two polar opposites, children of two different entities - just…happened. By accident.

#bagginshield #the hobbit #jrr tolkien #the hobbit book #bilbo x thorin #thorin x bilbo #tolkien dwarves #hobbits #eru iluvatar #aule #the valar #the silmarillion #lotr #lotr books #tolkien legendarium

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wisteriawyvern · 29 days

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Ive had a feelie good on my mind.

So there are two rumors of what happens to dwarf souls when they die, and the rumors are from the Elves and the Dwarves. The Elves think that once a Dwarf dies his soul and bones return to the earth to rejoin with their original state as children created from the earth by Aulë, which I mean, that sounds nice and all but why would Dwarvish souls be any different from others?

Then theres what the Dwarves believe, which to me seems more plausible: that is that Dwarvish souls go to the halls of Mandos just like the souls of all other beings of Ilúvatar, and instead of being reincarnated (I know thats not the right terminology for it) like the Elves or sent to the halls of the fathers like the men, the Dwarves get sent back to be with Aulë directly until it is time for the Dagor Dagorath when Aulë will call upon his Dwarves to help rebuild the earth.

So we know that Mandos, and other Valar can kind of observe what is going on and happening over in Middle Earth, and they are aware of the connections and bonds formed and observed.

SO, what I'm getting to is this: what if, when Thorin dies, Mandos says 'Wait a while, youre not under punishment, but I wont send you to Aulë yet,' and years and years pass, and Thorin is angry and confused and wondering when he will get to go to the halls of his fathers, when a ship finally arrives in the dock, and off that ship walks Bilbo, who has now gotten slightly rejuvenated from his age and exhaustion for a while, and the first thing they have him do is visit the Hall of Mandos, where Thorin is waiting for him, and they get to have time together again where Bilbo can tell Thorin all about raising Frodo, and about his travels back to the mountain and his book and how he may have moved on with his life, but he never took a wife because nothing ever felt as raw and real to him as it did with Thorin.

Like yeah Thorin would eventually still have to pass on to be with Aulë, and we aren't sure what happens to hobbit souls when they finally move on, but there would be joy and closure and reminiscence for a Dwarf who died finally doing the right thing and a Hobbit who truly was one of the best 🥹

#bagginshield #the brain rot is strong #i just want them to hold hands again one more time your honor #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #thorin x bilbo #the hobbit #i summarized a lot but you get the idea #im just really in my feels about these two

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warrioreowynofrohan · 4 months

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For the first day of Silmarillion Daily - some thoughts on the Discord of Melkor.

The Great Music is a theme where Ilúvatar provides the broad strokes, and the Valar are encouraged to improvise upon it. The purpose of Melkor’s discord is not creativity, but in a sense the opposite of it - “to increase the power and glory of the part assigned to himself,” and thus to give one voice greater dominance over all the others, rather than all working together in their own ways. And that dominance and lack of creativity is the first effect: some are discouraged and stop singing, while others match him rather than following their own thoughts.

The Music is something of a speedrun of what Melkor later becomes - at the beginning he wants more power in order to make his vision a reality, but as he continues fighting against anything that is not his own music, he ceases to have any real vision of his own, but only the object of drowning out everyone else.

it was loud, and vain, and endlessly repeated; and it had little harmony, but rather a clamorous unison as of many trumpets braying upon a few notes. And it essayed to drown the other music by the violence of its voice

This is a pretty good encapsulation of what evil does to a person who chooses it, on a pattern repeated throughout Tolkien’s works (Melkor, Sauron, Fëanor, Saruman): any creative impulse or goal is drowned in the desire for power and dominance and crushing any opposition.

For all this, Melkor cannot overcome Ilúvatar’s guiding theme in the music, but as a consequence of this discord Ilúvatar’s theme becomes both sorrowful and more beautiful, the beauty coming from the sorrow. This is also the core theme of The Silmarillion: evil can destroy, it can bring sorrow, but it can never ultimately win.

behold! a third theme grew amid the confusion, and it was unlike the others. For it seemed at first soft and sweet, a mere rippling of gentle sounds in delicate melodies; but it could not be quenched, and it took to itself power and profundity…deep and wide and beautiful, but slow and blended with an immeasurable sorrow, from which its beauty chiefly came….it seemed that its most triumphant notes [of Melkor’s Discord] were taken by the other and woven into it own solemn pattern.

Lastly, there is a sharp contrast drawn between the attitudes of the other Ainur towards the vision of the Children of Ilúvatar, and the attitude of Melkor. The other Ainur are delighted at the prospect of people who are different from them, with whom they can communicate and from whose different ways of thinking and living they can learn:

when they beheld them, the more did they love them, being things other than themselves, strange and free, wherein they saw the mind of Ilúvatar reflected anew

But Melkor, by contrast, is jealous of them because they are different from him, and wants to control them and be obeyed by them:

he desired rather to subdue to his will both Elves and Men, envying the gifts with which Ilúvatar promised to endow them; and he wished himself to have subjects and servants, and to be called Lord, and to be a master over other wills.

In Tolkien’s works, almost invariably, more diversity and variation and creativity is a good thing, and trying to make everything done one way, your way, inevitably leads to ‘making people do want you want’ become the goal that precedes and displaces whatever it was that you wanted to do in the first place.

On another note, it’s fascinating that most of the Ainur other than Ulmo initially find the Sea unsettling (‘because of the roaring of the sea they felt a great unquiet’), even as the Elves will the first time they see it. It’s possible, in line with the above, that part of this is the wild and uncontrolled nature of the Sea; that it is, to Tolkien, the ultimate element of freedom, the thing that cannot be controlled and yet holds no dominion. This also fits with Ulmo’s role as the ‘loyal opposition’ to some of the other Valar, in his desire not to summon the Elves to Middle-earth, and to aid the Noldor after their departure; both or these are in line with allowing the Children of Ilúvatar more freedom to choose their own path.

#silmarillion daily #tolkien #the silmarillion #valar #melkor #eru iluvatar

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nenyabusiness · 7 months

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"Arda Unmarred"

Tolkien’s legendarium is full of unreliable narrators. “The Silmarillion”, for example, is based on the lore of the Elves, and “The Lord of the Rings” is based on a fictional book written by Hobbits. In these stories, Melkor, the fallen Vala who later goes by the name Morgoth, is the power-hungry being that brought evil to Middle-earth. According to the Elves, the Valar refer to the world as “Arda Marred” – a name based on the assumption that Ilúvatar’s original design, “Arda Unmarred”, has to have been free from evil.

I use the phrase “unreliable narrators”, because we don’t know for sure what Eru Ilúvatar was truly planning when he created the Music of the Ainur. Not even the Valar, who are described as being the offspring of his thought, could fully understand his vision. So, can we really say for sure that there ever was, or ever will be, an “Arda Unmarred”? Was Melkor’s initiation of the cycle of evil in Middle-earth unintentional, or was it a part of Ilúvatar’s design all along? Those are the questions that this short essay is going to explore.

The creation of the world is described in “Ainulindalë”. The story has gone through multiple changes over the years, but its foundations remain the same. Eä, the universe, is sung into existence by the Ainur. Melkor, gifted with the most power and knowledge of them all, tries to introduce his own ideas into the song, but Ilúvatar simply incorporates the discord into his Music. Melkor is incapable of creating anything of his own, since he is ultimately an offspring of Ilúvatar’s own thought. This is later stated by Ilúvatar himself.

“And thou, Melkor, shalt see that no theme may be played that hath not its uttermost source in me, nor can any alter the music in my despite. For he that attempteth this shall prove but mine instrument in the devising of things more wonderful, which he himself hath not imagined.” (The Silmarillion: Ainulindalë)

The statement is repeated again when the Ainur are shown the world that their Music has created.

“Behold your Music! This is your minstrelsy; and each of you shall find contained herein, amid the design that I set before you, all those things which it may seem that he himself devised or added. And thou, Melkor, wilt discover all the secret thoughts of thy mind, and wilt perceive that they are but a part of the whole and tributary to its glory.” (The Silmarillion: Ainulindalë)

The Ainur learn much about this new world from Ilúvatar, but their god also withholds a lot of information, especially regarding his Children – the Elves and Men.

Yet some things there are that they cannot see, neither alone nor taking counsel together; for to none but himself has Ilúvatar revealed all that he has in store, and in every age there come forth things that are new and have no foretelling, for they do not proceed from the past. (The Silmarillion: Ainulindalë)

For the Children of Ilúvatar were conceived by him alone; and they came with the third theme, and were not in the theme which Ilúvatar propounded at the beginning, and none of the Ainur had part in their making. (The Silmarillion: Ainulindalë)

These statements prove that not even the Valar can be considered fully reliable narrators. They never saw the full design, and their knowledge of the fate of Elves and Men is ultimately limited.

Later in the chapter, we find out that there’s another layer of unreliability in this story.

For what has here been declared is come from the Valar themselves, with whom the Eldalië spoke in the land of Valinor, and by whom they were instructed; but little would the Valar ever tell of the wars before the coming of the Elves. Yet it is told among the Eldar that the Valar endeavoured ever, in despite of Melkor, to rule the Earth and to prepare it for the coming of the Firstborn; and they built lands and Melkor destroyed them; valleys they delved and Melkor raised them up; mountains they carved and Melkor threw them down; seas they hollowed and Melkor spilled them; and naught might have peace or come to lasting growth, for as surely as the Valar began a labour so would Melkor undo it or corrupt it. And yet their labour was not all in vain; and though nowhere and in no work was their will and purpose wholly fulfilled, and all things were in hue and shape other than the Valar had at first intended, slowly nonetheless the Earth was fashioned and made firm. (The Silmarillion: Ainulindalë)

The phrasing of this paragraph reveals that “Ainulindalë” is not a story told by an omniscient narrator – it’s Elven lore. Melkor is depicted as the culprit behind all of Arda’s flaws, but since we now know that it’s an Elven story, we also have to take possible bias into consideration.

Even here, however, is it clearly stated that Melkor was incapable of creating anything of his own, and that the Valar didn’t know every detail of Ilúvatar’s design. It’s also worth noting that it’s the will and purpose of the Valar that were never wholly fulfilled. This is also reiterated in a similar description of the formation of Arda, told in “The Annals of Aman”.

… And the shape of Arda and the symmetry of its waters and its lands was marred in that time, so that the first designs of the Valar were never after restored. (Morgoth’s Ring: The Annals of Aman)

At this point in the story, Ilúvatar is no longer an active participant. The Valar are acting on their own, based on the vast yet still limited information that’s been given to them. The greatest fears of Elves and Men – fading and dying – are blamed on Arda being marred by Melkor. This is clearly expressed in “Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth”:

Now the Eldar learned that, according to the lore of the Edain, Men believed that their hröar were not by right nature short-lived, but had been made so by the malice of Melkor. It was not clear to the Eldar whether Men meant: by the general marring of Arda (which they themselves held to be the cause of the waning of their own hröar); or by some special malice against Men as Men that was achieved in the dark ages before the Edain and the Eldar met in Beleriand; or by both. (Morgoth’s Ring: Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth)

Valar, Elves, and Men alike believe that they live in Arda Marred, and that Melkor is the sole culprit behind the cycle of evil that plagues Middle-earth. As readers, we’re led to believe that this is true, but Tolkien does occasionally remind us that this is a story told by unreliable narrators. He himself considers Melkor a Lucifer-like figure, but he also recognizes the differences between his Catholic faith and the universe he created.

I suppose a difference between this Myth and what may be perhaps called Christian mythology is this. In the latter the Fall of Man is subsequent to and a consequence (though not a necessary l consequence) of the 'Fall of the Angels': a rebellion of created free-will at a higher level than Man; but it is not clearly held (and in many versions is not held at all) that this affected the 'World' in its nature: evil was brought in from outside, by Satan. In this Myth the rebellion of created free-will precedes creation of the World (Eä); Eä has in it, subcreatively introduced, evil, rebellious, discordant elements of its own nature already when the ‘Let it Be’ was spoken. The Fall or corruption, therefore, of all things in it and all inhabitants of it, was a possibility if not inevitable. (The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien: 212.)

So, here we are again. Evil was created before Melkor descended into Eä. This raises even more questions about Ilúvatar’s original design – the supposed “Arda Unmarred”. There was evil in Arda before Melkor entered it. Does that mean that Ilúvatar knew that the world that he was about to send his Children into was already marred? Or was it a part of his design all along?

What we do know for sure is that there was always evil in Eä. We’re presented with another perspective in “Myths Transformed”, which puts even more emphasis on Melkor being a catalyst rather than the source of that evil.

Out of the discords of the Music – sc. not directly out of either of the themes, Eru's or Melkor's, but of their dissonance with regard one to another – evil things appeared in Arda, which did not descend from any direct plan or vision of Melkor: they were not 'his children'; and therefore, since all evil hates, hated him too. (Morgoth’s Ring: Myths Transformed)

Another important aspect of Melkor’s role in the supposed marring of Arda is the evil’s independence. As previously stated, the cycle started before his descent into Eä, and it continues after he’s been thrust into the Timeless Void at the end of the First Age.

One of the reasons for his self-weakening is that he has given to his 'creatures', Orcs, Balrogs, etc. power of recuperation and multiplication. So that they will gather again without further specific orders. Part of his native creative power has gone out into making an independent evil growth out of his control. (Morgoth’s Ring: Myths Transformed)

Yet the lies of Melkor, the mighty and accursed, Morgoth Bauglir, the Power of Terror and of Hate, sowed in the hearts of Elves and Men are a seed that does not die and cannot be destroyed; and ever and anon it sprouts anew, and will bear dark fruit even unto the latest day. (The Silmarillion: Quenta Silmarillion)

When Melkor is defeated, Sauron takes his place, upholding the cycle of evil.

The servants of Sauron were routed and dispersed, yet they were not wholly destroyed; and though many Men turned now from evil and became subject to the heirs of Elendil, yet many more remembered Sauron in their hearts and hated the kingdoms of the West. The Dark Tower was levelled to the ground, yet its foundations remained, and it was not forgotten. (The Silmarillion: Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age)

This is where Tolkien decides to end his grand saga about Middle-earth. Sauron is defeated, but evil is not. Months before his death, however, he started a draft of a story taking place about a century into the Fourth Age called “The New Shadow”. He eventually decided to scrap it, but the parts he did write indicate that evil still lingers in Middle-earth after the end of “The Lord of the Rings”.

He halted in the narrow passage that ran through the house, and it seemed that he was wrapped in a blackness: not a glimmer of twilight of the world outside remained there. Suddenly he smelt it, or so it seemed, though it came as it were from within outwards to the sense: he smelt the old Evil and knew it for what it was. (Morgoth’s Ring: “The New Shadow”)

The cycle of evil continues, even though Melkor no longer has any influence over the world. The Arda we see in Tolkien’s universe has always been marred – always, or never. These texts show that the concept of “Arda Unmarred” was most likely an invention of the Valar, or possibly the Elves – unreliable narrators with a desperate need for an explanation for why their world is full of evil. Ilúvatar’s original design was known to him and him alone, and Melkor was always a part of it.

Arda is simply Arda.

#tolkien #meta #melkor #morgoth #lord of the rings #lotr #silmarillion #lore #atheist bias i know i know

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polutrope · 1 month

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Mightiest of the Children

G, Fëanor & Manwë. Pulled from the archive for @manweweek.

The stars fall, pummeling the foundations of Taniquetil like blazing hailstones. The mountain trembles. Varda, my partner through all the long ages of Earth, takes the stars back into herself. She is light, and song, and she is young again. The fires sear her bodily raiment; it collects like silver ash about the feet of our throne.

Light of Sun and Moon and stars drifts through the seas of heaven like so much dust.

Arda breaks. My fallen brother is defeated forever. But I can find no hope in the End. Somewhere amid this confusion, the Light that will illumine Arda Healed remains locked in three Jewels. Ilúvatar has placed the fate of the World in the hands of his mightiest Child, and Fëanor does not come.

‘Where is he, Father?’ I ask. ‘The Spirit of Fire, whose marring lies at my feet? Yea, Father, do you deny it? ‘Tis I who is King of Arda, ‘twas I who failed your greatest creation.’

The One does not answer. All the sorrow contained in the Oceans of the World crests and looms above me. I, the Elder King, am afraid.

But ere the last light fades forever, Fëanor comes. In the shape of a white flame, every hue of light contained within him, he comes before my throne. I am laid bare before the naked power of his spirit, until I am naught but wind, and his heat sucks in all the airs that are my lifebreath. His fire feeds upon me, growing, growing so great that he might draw the last of me into himself. I surrender. There is utter stillness, a balancing, in the joining of my soul with his.

He releases me. I am clothed again as a King of the Valar, and he in the form he once possessed in the Noontide of the World. Nay – more beautiful, for his expression is at peace. He wears a smile.

‘So be it,’ he says, his voice like music. ‘By this reconciliation may Arda be Healed.’

He turns from me, and as he descends the mountain the land stills beneath his feet. The looming Ocean recedes and settles back into the deep basins and veins of the remade world.

From the mound of Ezellohar a great light spills out over the earth, and I know that the Jewels have been broken at last.

But by the mark he has left upon me, I know that alone among the countless reborn spirits rejoicing in the new world, Fëanor grieves.

#feanor #manwe #my fic #manweweek

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nin-varisse · 1 year

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For Fëanor was made the mightiest 🙏 in all parts of body 🍆 and mind 🧠, in valour ✨, in endurance 😩💦, in beauty 💕, in understanding 💭, in skill 🏆, in strength 💪 and in subtlety 😍 alike, of all the Children of Ilúvatar, and a bright flame 🔥😘 was in him.

Of The Sun And Moon And The Hiding of Of Valinor - A Modern Reading

#reading it the way tolkien intended to #jirt wants to kiss feanor so bad it makes him look stupid #feanor #feanaro #feanorians #silmarillion #the silmarillion #silm #shitpost #nin's thoughts

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cilil · 6 months

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What would the Valar’s reaction be to a modern woman from our world showing them D&D? Who’s going to be really into the game?

𝓐𝓝 ~ Oooh very interesting question! Thanks a lot for the ask, I had so much fun thinking about this ^^

𝓕𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 ~ All the Valar! I couldn't resist... Enjoy!

In general, I think that all the Valar would be at least curious, if not excited to hear about the games modern humans play and try it out for themselves, considering how the Ainur have always been looking forward to interacting with the Children of Ilúvatar.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Manwë

As a poet and writer, he's immediately in love with the concept of collaborative storytelling. You can expect elaborate worldbuilding and character backstories from him (especially ones that involve reconciling with an estranged sibling) and he loves to write small side stories and fanfic about the cast. Manwë also wouldn't mind being the group's forever DM once he learns how to run a game.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Varda

Being less excitable than her husband and not always in a playful mood, Varda may choose to watch at first, but she's certainly intrigued by the concept of D&D and she enjoys the mathematical aspects of it, always calculating everybody's chance of success. Once she decides to play, she may surprise the other players with how ruthless and cunning she can be - a menace both in political intrigue and combat-heavy campaigns. Varda also loves seeing Manwë and the others having fun.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Ulmo

Ulmo in particular is always very fond of the Children and the things they come up with. He too may be hesitant to join in at first, but he's always down to do some voice acting or provide some tasteful background music. If he joins the group, he'll probably need the occasional explanation and reminder how things work on land and that his character might not be able to swim as well as he can (keep an eye on him especially if he plays a class that uses armor).

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Aulë

If he isn't sold on the game immediately, he will be once you tell him that he can play a dwarf. Aside from storytelling, combat and roleplay, Aulë swiftly becomes fond of everyone's favorite shiny math rocks and is more than happy to make custom dice for everybody's characters, satisfying all their dice goblin needs. Important note for the DM: Aulë is an inventor and (in)famous for creating his dwarves in his workshop - do not let him play an artificer if you value your sanity.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Yavanna

Whether she's aware of tree hugger stereotype or not, she has absolutely no shame and will indulge her preferences by playing nature-based classes such druids or shamans and finds it cathartic to bring nature's wrath into battle in ways she can't in real life. Aside from indulging the occasional destructive or vengeful impulse, Yavanna may default to being the party mom, fiercely protective and supportive of everyone involved in and out of game.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Vána

Vána loves the concept of the game and is eager to play. Once she learns the basics, she gets really into character and is excited to play with ideas that are very much unlike the flower girl persona people expect from her, always remaking and reinventing tropes and archetypes that catch her fancy. Like Manwë, you can expect her to never miss a game and be very passionate about it.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Oromë

Talking about and imagining slaying monsters instead of actually doing it isn't exactly to Oromë's liking, but he isn't opposed to indulging in a fun tale of adventure on cozy evenings at the campfire. After he's been sufficiently introduced to D&D culture, memes and inside jokes, he embarks on a personal side campaign to prove to everyone just how cool his personal brand of ranger can be.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Tulkas

Similar to his good friend Oromë, Tulkas isn't fond of activities that involve sitting still. His creativity and imagination isn't the best either, but at least he's always willing to play frontline and martial classes, which will come in handy especially in groups where most players have their sights on fancy casters and/or fun support builds. Tulkas is a fun guy to be around if you don't piss him off and so are his characters.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Nessa

Like her brother and husband, Nessa also enjoys being active. If she decides to give the game a try, she's very expressive, gestures a lot and may act out small scenes if given the chance. As fun as this is during roleplay, sitting close to her during combat segments while she shows you how exactly she's smacking her enemies is not recommended, especially if she plays a monk.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Námo

Námo isn't known for his playfulness, however this doesn't mean he's opposed to engaging with the game. In fact, he quite enjoys slipping into a different role and mindset for a while - having to be the impartial judge and observer all the time can be tiring after all. Another aspect of D&D he may enjoy is, surprisingly enough, the element of randomness: His foresight allows him to know the future, but not every little detail, and a couple of dice rolls in a roleplaying game are probably not important prophecies Eru gave him. It may feel refreshing for Námo to be surprised.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Vairë

No matter how casual any given session is, Vairë arrives in full cosplay, really getting into character creation like Manwë does as well, though as usual she's more practical about it. Additionally, she keeps a cute notebook as a campaign journal in which she records all the fun little details and great moments the players experienced together. She also enjoys creating fan content for the campaign.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Irmo

Irmo has quite a vivid imagination and has always adored roleplaying, so he's immediately on board. It's by far his favorite part of the D&D experience, though he quickly finds that he enjoys combat and puzzle solving sequences as well. He's the one to initiate and drive a lot, if not most of the character interactions, helps advancing their character arcs and is just a joy to have at the table. Class-wise, he's definitely a bard player and will happily perform his songs and flirtatious lines in real life too.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Estë

It may come as a shock and surprise to the other players that Estë categorically refuses to be the party healer, at least on her first playthrough. Like Vána, she's eager to explore other roles through her characters. No matter what she decides to play, her character may strike up an in-game rivalry with Irmo's character to spice things up and both of them have way too much fun bickering.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Nienna

She most likely takes a back seat at first, letting others play the game, observing to learn the rules and quietly enjoying the stories they tell. Encouraged by her family, Nienna joins in eventually, provided she's currently in the right headspace for it (being the Lady of Grief, she sometimes feels mentally and emotionally exhausted, in which case she prefers to just sit there, relax and unwind by being in the presence of her loved ones). As a player, she enjoys roleplaying the most, but also does well with puzzles since she's a keen observer and listener.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Melkor

Well. Melkor is most certainly going to be that guy at the table. He likes to derail campaigns, especially if they're Manwë's, tests the limits of the rules (and everyone's patience) and wants kills and loot. Once he familiarizes himself with the game's mechanics, he exploits them and likes to powergame. The one concept Melkor has trouble grasping is that D&D isn't a game you play to "win". Simply put, he very much has fun, but isn't fun to play with for a lot of other players; however, if you want to play a meme or evil campaign, he's your guy.

Side note: If Melkor plays with his own friend group he may also chill out for once.

Side note 2: Don't let him DM unless, again, you want the kind of campaign he'll come up with.

Side note 3: Watch your shiny math rocks. Melkor likes shiny.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

taglist: @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @i-did-not-mean-to @melkors-big-tits @melkors-defense-attorney @singleteapot @wandererindreams

#cílil answers #headcanons #ainur #valar #manwe #varda #ulmo #aule #yavanna #vana #orome #tulkas #nessa #namo #vaire #irmo #este #nienna #melkor #silmarillion #tolkien #d&d

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ardafanonarch · 2 months

Note

hello hello... does canon say (or rank) who are the hottest, most gorgeous elves?

Hello! This question is also addressed in the summary of the evidence recently shared by @aipilosse.

tlr;dr:

Silmarillion Elves Tolkien described as "fairest" or preeminent in beauty:

Fëanor

Finarfin

Finrod

Galadriel

Finwë

Then there is Lúthien, who sweeps for all species, for all time: "the fairest of all the Children of Ilúvatar that was or shall ever be."

#appearance #feanor #finarfin #finrod #galadriel #finwe #luthien #anon

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tilions · 7 months

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It is said by the Eldar that in water there lives yet the echo of the Music of the Ainur more than in any substance that is in this Earth; and many of the Children of Ilúvatar hearken still unsated to the voices of the Sea, and yet know not for what they listen.

-> Maiar of Ulmo - Uinen, Osse and Salmar

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nyxshadowhawk · 7 months

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I Read The Silmarillion So You Don't Have To, Part Four

Here are the previous parts:

https://nyxshadowhawk.tumblr.com/post/726120109073104896/i-read-the-silmarillion-so-you-dont-have-to-part

https://nyxshadowhawk.tumblr.com/post/726261927846772736/i-read-the-silmarillion-so-you-dont-have-to-part

https://nyxshadowhawk.tumblr.com/post/726476229805473792/i-read-the-silmarillion-so-you-dont-have-to-part

Chapter 7: Of the Silmarils and the Unrest of the Noldor In which the peace is disturbed by conspiracy theories and shiny objects.

Fëanor decides to preserve the light of the Two Trees of Valinor… you know, in case anything ever happens to them. Somehow, using all of his knowledge and power and craftsmanship, he captures their light and uses it to create THE SILMARILS! The Silmarils are the biggest, brightest, and most beautiful gemstones in the history of Elfkind. No one but Fëanor knows what they’re made of (and at this point in time, he isn’t exactly in a position to tell anyone), but they look like diamonds and are completely unbreakable. Just as the bodies of the Children of Ilúvatar are shells for the soul, the crystal that composes the Silmarils is a shell for the light of the Two Trees — literally, the stones are actually alive. They are like three stars.

Silmarils of Fëanor by Nikulina-Helena

Side note — this isn’t technically in the text of The Silmarillion, it’s from Unfinished Tales, but I have to mention it because it’s hilarious — Fëanor got the idea to preserve the light of the Trees because Galadriel wouldn’t give him her hair. Here’s the relevant part of Unfinished Tales:

Even among the Eldar she was accounted beautiful, and her hair was held a marvel unmatched. It was golden like the hair of her father and of her foremother Indis, but richer and more radiant, for its gold was touched by some memory of the starlike silver of her mother; and the Eldar said that the light of the Two Trees, Laurelin and Telperion, had been snared in her tresses. Many thought that this saying first gave to Fëanor the thought of imprisoning and blending the light of the Trees that later took shape in his hands as the Silmarils. For Fëanor beheld the hair of Galadriel with wonder and delight. He begged three times for a tress, but Galadriel would not give him even one hair. These two kinsfolk, the greatest of the Eldar of Valinor, were unfriends for ever. […] there dwelt in her the noble and generous spirit of the Vanyar, and a reverence for the Valar that she could not forget. From her earliest years she had a marvellous gift of insight into the minds of others, but judged them with mercy and understanding, and she withheld her goodwill from none save only Fëanor. In him she perceived a darkness that she hated and feared, though she did not perceive that the shadow of the same evil had fallen upon the minds of all the Noldor, and upon her own.

So, just to reiterate: Galadriel is wise and benevolent and loves everyone except Fëanor, because Fëanor is just that much of an arrogant asshole. So when Fëanor asks her for her hair, she basically tells him where he can stick it, and he goes, “Well fine! I didn’t need your hair anyway! I’m going to make gems that are even prettier and shinier than your hair, and then everyone will be jealous!” And that is why it’s such a big deal that Galadriel grants Gimli’s much humbler request for her hair. Gimli may be a dwarf, but he’s actually a good person!

Anyway, everyone is impressed by the Silmarils, even the Valar themselves. Varda, the goddess of the stars, blessed them so that nothing evil could touch them.

Now, I already said that Melkor lusted for all the shiny things that the Noldor had dug up, so how do you think he reacted when he saw the Silmarils? Oh, you’d better believe he wanted those gems more than anything else in the world. He concocted an evil plan to sew as much discord between the Elves and the Valar as possible, and to destroy Fëanor in the process. Unfortunately, enough of the Elves start to listen to his rumors. They start to believe that the Valar brought them to Valinor to stop them from ruling kingdoms of their own. Melkor also told the Elves about the eventual coming of Men, which the Elves knew nothing about. Melkor didn’t know much about Men either, but it was enough to spread a conspiracy theory that Manwë was holding the Elves hostage in Valinor so that Men could take over the world, cheating the Elves out of their God-given inheritance. The Noldor start to want to go back East, to be free of the Valar’s influence so they can start building kingdoms of their own and establishing themselves before the Men come.

Fëanor especially is desperate to get out of Valinor, which is exactly what Melkor wanted, because this was all just a ploy to get the Silmarils. But Fëanor is just as obsessive about them, keeping them locked deep in his “horde” (as though he’s a dragon), except when he parades around wearing them during feasts. He doesn’t let anyone see them, except for his father and his sons. He’s already started to forget that the entire point of them was to preserve the light of the Trees of Valinor, and not just to glorify himself.

Fëanor by dakkun39

Melkor starts to zero in on his mark. He spreads a new lie that Fingolfin, Fëanor’s brother, was planning to supplant him as Finwë’s heir. And to Fingolfin, he says that Fëanor has always hated his half-brothers and plans to kick them out of the city of Tirion.

As the unrest brews, Melkor teaches the Noldor how to make weapons. Each family of Noldor believes that only they know about the weapons, and that none of the other families do. Meanwhile, Fëanor makes a secret forge to experiment with crafting weapons, so he and his family can have especially dangerous ones. Even Melkor didn’t know about that, that was all Fëanor. Mahtan, Fëanor’s father-in-law, bitterly regretted having taught him anything about metalwork.

Fëanor openly calls for revolution against the Valar, and escaping back East. That crosses a line. Finwë holds court and asks his lords what he should do. Fingolfin asks him, “Why are you letting Fëanor call all the shots? He’s not King. You’re the King. You tell him to stop!” Fëanor promptly bursts through the doors and struts up to the podium, armed to the teeth. He draws his sword on Fingolfin and tells him to fuck off. Fingolfin hastily bows to Finwë and gets the hell out of there before his own brother murders him on the house floor. Fëanor follows him and starts taunting him. Fingolfin has the good sense not to respond.

By Jenny Dolfen

Now the Valar get involved. They were sad about the Noldor wanting to leave, but whatever Melkor might say, the Valar weren’t about to keep them there against their will. This, though? This is a step too far. They summon Fëanor to stand trial before them. During the trial, it’s finally revealed that Melkor, not Fëanor, is ultimately to blame for all the unrest. Tulkas doesn’t even wait for the trial to be over to go and put Melkor’s lights out. Meanwhile Mandos (the god of death/purgatory) delivers his judgement on Fëanor: “If you’re our ‘thralls,’ then I hate to break this to you, but Manwë is the king of all of Arda, not just Valinor. So… going back East isn’t going to help you very much. Threatening to kill your brother is still a crime whether here or in Middle-earth, so I sentence you to exile from the city of Tirion for twelve years. Go and think about what you did! Then, after your time-out is over, if your family forgives you, we’ll let you back in.”

Fingolfin speaks up to say that he already forgives Fëanor, which is very charitable of him. But Fëanor just sulks and stalks off. Honestly, he’s had it easy — he hasn’t even been asked to leave Valinor, only to leave the city! He leaves with his seven sons and founds his own fortress, Formenos, some distance from Tirion, where he hoards all his gems and weapons and other sparkly things (including the Silmarils). Finwë loves Fëanor so much that he leaves his own city to be with Fëanor, and Fingolfin becomes king of Tirion in his place. So, in the end, Melkor’s lie became a self-fulfilling prophecy: Fingolfin did become King of the Noldor instead of Fëanor, not because of any treachery on his part, but because of Fëanor’s shitty behavior. Nice going, Fëanor.

Melkor lays low for a while, disguised as a cloud. No one hears anything of him for a bit, but the Trees look slightly darker and the shadows slightly more ominous. Suddenly, he turns up on Fëanor’s doorstep and pretends to be friends, using the self-fulfilling prophecy to his advantage to make it sound like everything he’s said so far is true. Melkor offers to help Fëanor leave Valinor. Fëanor still thinks that Melkor is kind of sus, but Melkor gets to him by mentioning the Silmarils, and how they won’t be safe as long as Fëanor stays in Valinor. Unfortunately for Melkor, he showed his hand too soon. Fëanor finally sees that the Silmarils are what Melkor’s really been after this whole time. He screams the equivalent of “Get the fuck out of my house!” and slams the door in the face of what is technically the most powerful being on Arda. Melkor runs off with his tail between his legs, but Finwë recognizes that this isn’t over, and calls for Manwë’s help. Manwë and the other Valar chase Melkor to the edge of Valinor, and everything is suddenly fine for a while… the Trees are bright again, and Melkor is nowhere to be seen, but not knowing where he is might actually be worse. The people of Valinor can feel him lurking on the edge of the horizon.

Fëanor and Silmarils by breath-art

Chapter 8: Of the Darkening of Valinor In which everything goes to hell.

The Valar assume that Melkor returned to his old fortress in the north, but they didn’t find him there. Instead, Melkor shapeshifted and slunk southwards, to a shadowy land called Avathar. He was going to visit… an old friend, shall we say.

If you think Shelob is bad, you haven’t met her mother.

By John Howe

Ungoliant isn’t just a spider, she’s an eldritch abomination that happens to take the form of a spider. Even the Valar don’t really know where she came from, and she managed to escape them by hiding in the south where they weren’t turning their attention. She weaves webs that suck in all the light around them. Melkor takes the form of a tall Dark Lord and tells Ungoliant that he will feed her whatever she wants in exchange for her help in conquering Valinor (although at this point, you should already know that when Melkor promises anything, it’s with his fingers crossed behind his back). Ungoliant agrees, and they decide to attack while the people of Valinor are celebrating a harvest festival. Because whenever anysort of disaster happens, it’s when everyone is unsuspectingly having a party.

Fëanor sulkily attends the festival, only because Manwë literally ordered him to be there, but the other elves of his household (including Finwë) don’t show up. Fëanor also deliberately underdresses for the party; instead of parading around with the Silmarils like he used to, he decided that the Valar didn’t deserve to see them, and kept them locked up in his castle. Fëanor reconciles with his half-brother Fingolfin right in front of Manwë’s throne, and may even have been sincere! The Trees shine with a perfect blend of silver and gold… for the last time.

The poor Elves and the Valar barely have time to react. Melkor leaps on top of the sacred mound and strikes each Tree through with his spear, and Ungoliant drinks up all the sap that gushes out of them like blood, and they quickly wither and die. Then Ungoliant drinks up all the well water, and she looks so huge and bloated that even Melkor is afraid of her.

And… that’s it. Just like that, it’s over. The Trees are dead. The resulting darkness is almost a palpable thing that can attack the body and soul. The Valar and all the Elves gathered in Manwë’s palace are thunderstruck as the lights suddenly go out, and then, they hear the screams of the Teleri, who have had nothing to do with this whole mess and had no idea that there was any unrest in Valinor to begin with. You know what I’m reminded of? That scene in The Prince of Egypt when God kills the firstborn of every Egyptian household, and there’s a shot of Orion, a beat of silence, and then a wail of grief and despair goes up.

Manwë sends the Valar to chase after Melkor, but they can’t penetrate Ungoliant’s cloud of darkness, and it’s too late. The damage was done.

By Titita

Chapter 9: Of the Flight of the Noldor In which the Valar have finally had enough of Fëanor’s bullshit.

Valinor is left in shock. Yavanna tries in vain to heal the Trees, but they are dead, and there’s nothing she can do… unless she had a little of the light of the Trees, which Fëanor fortunately preserved in the Silmarils. Manwë asks Fëanor if he will give Yavanna a Silmaril. Fëanor whines that just as the Trees were Yavanna’s masterpiece, the Silmarils are his masterpiece, and if he breaks any one of them, he’ll be the first of the Elves to die. Mandos mutters that he wouldn’t be the first, since his mother Míriel died, but no one takes his meaning.

Fëanor goes off to sulk, and remembers what Melkor said: that the Valar want the Silmarils, and will do anything to get them. Now they’re asking him to give them one. Fëanor concludes that because Melkor, a Vala, is such a shitty person, then all the other Valar must be the same. He tells the Valar that he will not give them a Silmaril, and that if they try to take one from him by force, then that will prove that they really are just as bad as Melkor.

That’s that, then. Because Fëanor is such a selfish asshole, the Trees are not healed, and there’s nothing left to do but to mourn. Nienna, the goddess of sorrow, stands on top of the mound where the Trees used to be and laments the scarring of Arda, letting her tears wash away the destruction caused by Ungoliant and Melkor.

Then Elves from Formenos, Fëanor’s fortress, arrive to tell the Valar about another of Melkor’s crimes: He broke into Formenos, murdered Finwë, and stole everything that was in Fëanor’s treasure horde. The Silmarils are gone. Fëanor is enraged, firstly because the Silmarils are gone, secondly because he was at Manwë’s stupid party instead of defending his castle, and thirdly because his beloved father is dead. This is when he first calls Melkor by the name Morgoth (which is what he’ll be called for the rest of the Silmarillion).

History might have been different if Fëanor had originally said yes to Yavanna’s request, before learning that Morgoth had stolen the Silmarils. We can’t know.

Meanwhile Morgoth and Ungoliant take the long way back to Middle-earth. Morgoth hopes to eventually escape from Ungoliant, because even he’s afraid of her, but she catches on. She tells Morgoth that she’s still hungry, and she wants to eat all the treasure he stole from Formenos. So Morgoth, begrudgingly, feeds her all of Fëanor’s beautiful gemstones. All but three, that is. The Silmarils literally burn Morgoth’s hand, because Varda made them evil-proof, but he grips them tightly and refuses to give them to her. He’s a lot weaker than he should be because he lent Ungoliant so much of his power, and she weaves a web of darkness to strangle him. Melkor screams so loud that his screaming can still be heard in that region to this day. Deep beneath the ruins of Angband, the Balrogs still lurked, and when they heard their Lord cry for help, they came to save him. Let’s just reiterate that: Ungoliant is so evil that Morgoth, who’s like Sauron but worse, needed Balrogs to save him from her.

By Sheppi-Arthouse

Ungoliant fled, and lurked for some time in a dark valley where she mated with other spider-creatures and ate their heads. No one knows what happened to her after that. She might still be out there, but one legend says that eventually, in her eternal hunger, she ate herself.

Morgoth rebuilds Angband, amasses his armies of Balrogs and Orcs, and gives himself the modest title of “King of the World.” He forges himself an iron crown and sets the three Silmarils in it. But his hands are permanently burned by having held them, and he can never take off the crown. He stews in his hatred, and vents his humiliation at the eight spidery legs of Ungoliant by abusing his minions. Despite how pathetic that near-defeat was, Melkor is still technically a Vala, and is so terrifying in his majesty that no one can even be near him without being consumed by fear.

By NeexSethe

Back in Valinor, everyone is depressed. Then Fëanor shows up and gives a rousing speech to the Noldor, mostly condemning Morgoth, but also repeating all of the lies that Morgoth had spread about the Valar. Fëanor declares himself King of the Noldor since his father is dead (which isn’t anything like what Morgoth just did), and persuades the Noldor that they shouldn’t live under the Valar’s rule anymore. After all, the Valar failed to keep out Morgoth, and they’re related to him so they must be partly to blame for his actions. Fëanor doesn’t want to be anywhere near the distant cousins of the guy who killed his father. Also, look at the greener grass back in Middle-earth where the Noldor can build an empire for themselves! They can become a warlike people, and conquer Middle-earth before the Men come! Fëanor throws some racial supremacy into the mix and says that once the Noldor have waged war on Morgoth and taken back the Silmarils, they alone will be the lords of the last remaining Light.

Then Fëanor and his sons draw their swords and swear an oath that they will hunt to the ends of the earth any creature — Vala, Demon, Elf, or Man — who possesses a Silmaril.

By Jenny Dolfen

Despite having just disavowed the Valar, this oath is still sworn with the gods and their sacred mountain as witnesses, so… old religious habits die hard.

Immediately, unrest erupts among the Noldor. Fingolfin and his son Turgon are horrified, Finarfin (Fëanor’s other brother) tries to calm everything down, and Galadriel (the only woman there) likes the idea of seeing Middle-earth and ruling a realm of her own. Fëanor’s side of the debate eventually wins, and the Noldor depart for Middle-earth. Fëanor hurries them out of there before they have the chance to change their minds.

Of course, the remaining problem is that Fëanor can’t simply declare himself king so easily. Fingolfin has been King of the Noldor ever since Fëanor was exiled from the city, and most of the Noldor are still loyal to him. He’s also level-headed and kind, whereas Fëanor is a hot mess. Fingolfin doesn’t want to leave Valinor, but accepts that he doesn’t have much of a choice, because he doesn’t want to abandon his people. Also, his son Fingon is urging him to go. Finarfin is even less willing to leave, but follows Fingolfin anyway for similar reasons.

By BellaBergolts

As the Noldor are leaving, a messenger arrives from Manwë. He says that the Valar won’t prevent the Noldor from leaving, since the Elves are free to do whatever they want, but that the Valar strongly advise against it. But Fëanor and his family are explicitly exiled from Valinor, on account of their oath. The messenger emphasizes that Fëanor is right — Melkor is a Vala —which is exactly why Fëanor and co. stand no chance against him or against any of the other Valar. So, the oath is impossible to fulfill. That sucks, because oaths are serious business, and once you’ve made an oath, you can’t simply disregard it. Fëanor has basically condemned himself and all of his sons to an impossible, borderline-blasphemous and utterly hubristic venture. Nice going, Fëanor.

Of course, Fëanor gives a typical arrogant response, urging the Noldor not to send their king into exile and “return to bondage.” He says to the messenger, “Go tell Manwë that even if I can’t beat Morgoth, at least I’m gonna try, instead of sitting on my sorry ass and grieving! My battle with Morgoth is gonna be so legendary that one day the Valar will realize I was right!” Fëanor is so intimidating that even the messenger of Manwë bows to him in response. And so, the Noldor leave into exile — some boldly and without looking back, some very reluctantly.

They quickly run into the first big problem: How do they get to Middle-earth? Fëanor first tries to follow Melkor and go north, to cross the narrow strip of land that connects the two continents. But realistically, there’s no way that an entire nation’s worth of people are going to cover that distance. The other option is to cross the sea itself, but the only way to do that is with ships, and the Noldor don’t know how to build them. Fëanor decides to persuade the Teleri to join his company, which would get them the ships they need — and spitefully, Fëanor hopes to further dismantle Valinor and gain himself more soldiers for his war against Morgoth.

The Teleri are sad that their friends are leaving, and completely unwilling to lend them any ships or go against the will of the Valar. Olwë, the King of the Teleri, never heard any of Morgoth’s conspiracy theories, so everything Fëanor says sounds completely insane. You can imagine how well that went over with Fëanor. He’s like, “You owe us because we helped you build your city! You stragglers would still be living in mud huts if it weren’t for us!” Olwë points out that friends don’t let friends make such stupid decisions, that the plan was to live together in Valinor forever, and that the Noldor didn’t teach the Teleri shipbuilding. They learned to build ships on their own, directly from the sea gods, and don’t owe the Noldor anything. The Teleri feel the same way about their ships as Fëanor does about his jewels — they’re unique masterpieces, and can never be replicated.

Fëanor doesn’t take no for an answer, and tries to take the ships by force. The Teleri fight back. What follows is the first large-scale battle between Elves. It’s brutal and sad — there’s deaths on both sides, but the Noldor win and steal the precious ships away. (Don’t ask me how the Noldor know how to sail the ships — sailing isn’t exactly a skill that one can just pick up.) Olwë calls upon Ossë, the Maia of the Waves, but he doesn’t come, because the Valar swore to neither help nor hinder the Noldor’s departure. But Uinen, the Maia of sea life, is so distraught over the cruel deaths of the Teleri mariners that she wrecks several of the ships.

By Ted Nasmith

When the Noldor reach the shore, a dark figure rises up from the cold mountains. Some say the figure was Mandos himself. He pronounces the “Prophecy of the North”: Anyone who’s studied pagan mythology knows that kinslaying is just about the worst thing you can do, so now all the Noldor are exiled, not just Fëanor and his sons. But Fëanor has well and truly brought down the wrath of the Valar upon his head. They’ve given him enough second chances. Now, his oath isn’t just useless — it’s actively a curse that will destroy his family, drive them to evil and treason, and keep the Silmarils forever just out of reach. After they die — and they will die, despite the immortality granted to them by Eru Ilúvatar — their souls will return to the Halls of Mandos as ghosts. The Noldor who don’t die will slowly diminish, and watch their own power fade as the other races gradually supplant them, leaving them with nothing but regret.

Mandos by marcelamedeiros_arts

Don’t let anyone tell you that Tolkien’s Elves are all perfect beings who are prettier, wiser, more magical, and otherwise superior to everyone else. The reason why all the Elves of the LotR fit that description is because only the wise Elves last that long. All the arrogant, hotheaded, and power-hungry Elves don’t make it to the Third Age because they’ve all killed each other by then.

Case in point, Fëanor responds to this imposing figure pronouncing the wrath of the gods with his typical arrogance, insisting that he and his family are not cowards and that treason is just another evil that they’ll have to deal with. And, as an extra “fuck you,” that everyone will sing of their deeds until the end of the world.

At that, Finarfin turns back. He never actually wanted to leave Valinor, he hates that the battle ruined his friendship with Olwë, and he’s deeply resentful towards the House of Fëanor for having caused this whole mess. He and his people receive the Valar’s forgiveness, and return to their beautiful city of Tirion. Finarfin rules over the Noldor that returned with him, but without his children, because they didn’t turn back. They wanted to stay with Fingolfin’s sons, Fingon and Turgon, and they aren’t the sort of people to abandon a task halfway, so they continue on.

Fëanor, Fingolfin, and the other Noldor reach the far north, where the continents of Aman and Middle-earth meet. They’re cold, hungry, and don’t know which way to go next. Some of the Elves are starting to catch on that Fëanor and his propaganda is the cause of all their trouble. Fëanor is already starting to fear treachery, so he takes his sons and all the ships, and straight-up abandons Fingolfin and his people to freeze to death. Fëanor becomes the first Noldor Elf to set foot on Middle-earth.

Maedhros, Fëanor’s eldest son, asks him if he’ll send any ships back for Fingolfin’s people (specifically Fingon). Fëanor laughs at his son, calls his brother and nephews and all their people “worthless baggage,” and then burns the ships. Maedhros just stands aside and lets him do it. (I’m guessing that the inability of Fëanor’s kids to stand up to their father is going to become a recurring source of conflict.) So, the curse has already come into effect.

The Burning of the Ships by Ted Nasmith

In spite of Fëanor, Fingolfin and his company pass through the icy wastes in the farthest north, and eventually reach Middle-earth, though they lost many along the way. The narrator tells us straight-up that few of the deeds of the Noldor will ever surpass that desperate crossing.

We're a quarter of the way through!

Next part: https://nyxshadowhawk.tumblr.com/post/738735962858897408/i-read-the-silmarillion-so-you-dont-have-to-part

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