I was listening to Blood Upon The Snow by Hozier and GOD what a Himring theme like imagine???
Maedhros is newly "healed" from his 30 years or torture, just gave up his throne and crown to his uncle and is determined to travel east to build his strong hold against Morgoth. Everyone is worried, like yes he's technically healed but Maedhros has a… violence to him now. He is colder, both at the touch and personality wise. There is a glint in his eyes and his brothers (and cousins, and his aunt and uncle) all look at each other with worry behind his back as he now prowls as he walks.
Maglor is the most worried. He's more in tune with the world and the Music around them, and while Maedhros' song isn't twisted like the thralls they've met, it's brassy now. Before, back in Valinor, Maitimo used to sound like a string quartet, complex and intricate, like a beautiful glass mosaic that told a whole story without words and still let light shine through upon everyone in a splash of rainbow beams. Now, there is a thrumming undertone that's deeper, richer, that makes the almost word filled song of the strings become shrill, like they're crying out. The bass undertone sounds like the marching of an army and the strings sound like a death wail of the doomed. It makes Maglor's skin crawl as he watches his brother, not knowing what to make of the change in Song.
He listens, and he follows Maedhros. Climbs with him up the tallest, coldest peak he finds in the east. The mountain is cold, the wind is biting, and the snow is deep-- not that that is a hindrance for the Elves, but the horses have to trudge through snow that is basically up to their chests. The music here is also cold, sharp woodwinds nipping at the ears and shrill strings that rattles his bones. Maglor opens his mouth to complain, to urge his brother to turn back down this damned mountain when he finally breaks through the cacophony and hears his brother's song.
For the first time since the darkness engulfed Valinor, Maedhros' Song was steady, quiet, finding peace and blending into the rush of Music wiping around them. Maedhros himself looks at peace, eyes closed and face upturned to the weak sun. Between the rich red of his hair, regrown down to his shoulders since they had to shave it after his rescue, and the deep scarlet of his Feanorian robes, Maedhros looks like a spot of blood upon the snow. Maglor shivers, suddenly overcome by a vision of his brother drenched in blood, mouth curled into a snarl like a feral animal, surrounded by endless white and red all around him.
Maedhros begins to hum, a low tune that does nothing but send shivers up and down Maglor's spin.
"Brother, please, let us leave. There is nothing for us here, maybe if we keep travelling east there will be a better place to set up camp." Maglor begs, walking closer to Maedhros.
"No." Maglor freezes at the word. There was an undercurrent of command, of steel. "This place speaks to me, I will make our stronghold here."
Maglor gapes, he looks around at the barren mountain. Nothing but rocks, and snow, and sparse shrubs. "Here? Really?"
Maedhros nods. "Here. Her name shall be Himring, and she will withstand any siege." He hums again, the notes low and easily swallowed up by the wind. Maglor with his keen ears could pair the simple tune and worried at his lip when he noticed that it was actually a very basic version of the Song that screamed around them.
If he listened closer, he could almost hear the words in the Song. His heart clenched as he watched Maedhros turn and begin ordering their men, getting the wheels of creation of their base set into motion.
Maglor looked around the mountain side again. He could feel the glee of the mountain, at how the rocks thrummed beneath their feet and snow. It felt vicious, like hunting dogs straining at their leashes, an eager glee that felt almost bloodthirsty. Maglor just hoped that it just would be directed towards helping their cause, and not be their downfall.
To all things housed in her silence
Nature offers a violence
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the short stories are actually really provocative and profound, heartrending and disturbing and thought-provoking and funny all at the same time and in such a short amount of space.
but i feel like when n*tflix touched them, they were the first victim of a withering away and soul sapping for me, in which i couldn't bear to be around the kinds of discussions and jokes and everything which were coming up at that time as fundamental misunderstandings of them so it just became very painful and very banal because they were all, in essence, forgotten.
however, that damage is not irreversable.
particularly in the case of a good adaptation, the musical, i have begun to remember all of why i love the short stories so much, just how good and painful to my heart they are, as well as thinking more deeply about some aspects which i had not previously considered or paid a lot of attention to (in lieu of other things which excited me more).
i think the biggest strength of a "good" adaptation and a "good" fandom is that they make you realize things you hadn't, interested in parts that weren't your 'favorite,' and generally expanding your mind and love of the source material. in contrast, a "bad" adaptation or "bad" fandom is that which makes you wish to forget and eventually end up forgetting your love and leaving it behind yourself. "good" is to remember, "bad" is to forget.
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An interesting conversation my lil sis and I had the other day:
________
Her: “I was sad today. But then my friend sent me David Tennant edits and they made me laugh so I felt better.”
Me: “Omg lolllll. Wait was it from Doctor Who, or—”
Her: “No it was Good Omens.”
Me, not expecting that response in the slightest, but feeling absolutely overjoyed: “No way!! I’ve been meaning to watch it! It looks so good!”
Her: “Yeah I watched it with my friend over the course of like five weeks.”
Me, who’s been trying to figure out where exactly she stands on the whole lgbt thing considering our father is homo/transphobic, cuz one day I wanna tell her that I’m ace: “So you’ve seen it!! Did you like it???”
Her: “Yeah, it was good, but— uh…”
Her, shifting on her feet and looking uncomfortable all of a sudden: “I don’t think you’d like it.”
Me: “Huh? Why not??”
Her: “It’s just— it’s very… the whole thing’s gay. I don’t think you’d like it.”
Me, utterly gobsmacked: “Um…?”
Me, who is on the gay blogging hellsite, who reads (and writes!) gay fanfiction, and who is literally queer: 👁️👄👁️
Me, who doesn’t want my lil sis to *know* that I’m on the gay blogging hellsite, that I read (and write!!) gay fanfiction, and that I’m queer: “…You know I have a lot of friends who are lgbtq, right? Like, I’m okay with that. Don’t you hear me argue with Dad when he makes one of his stupid comments?”
Her, quickly walking away: “Uh, yeah okay, idk I just don’t think you’d like it. That’s just my opinion.”
________
💀💀💀
MA’AM????????
I can’t tell if she’s homophobic, if she wants me to think she’s homophobic, or if she thinks that I’m homophobic.
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