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[greenwoodthegreat]

The fact that Tolkien is on record as saying that Faramir just walked out of the Ithilien woods and Tolkien did not know or plan for him prior to that is especially funny to me in light of Boromir's introduction.

Because I would imagine the writing process went like this:

Boromir, the Steward of Gondor's only son, is sent a vision telling him to go to Rivendell so that he can represent Gondor at the Council. Reasonable.

A whole book later, Faramir shows up. Turns out to be Boromir's younger brother. Is his own generally awesome self.

Much later, Tolkien goes back to the Council in the editing process and realizes, "Wait. Why would the higher powers ever send Boromir a vision to go to Rivendell when Faramir is right there?? They WOULDN'T. OBVIOUSLY."

Tolkien, presumably: "Hmmmmmmmph... All right. What if Faramir did get the dream first, several times, but Denethor simply refused to pay attention until the dream gave up and shifted to Boromir."

Which not only returns the plot to a plausible shape but is, in fact, distressingly in character, and adds another fun layer of tragedy to Boromir's death. Good editing! But it's also funny to look at that and realize that it was (I would guess) really just Tolkien writing himself out of a Faramir-created plot hole and turning it to good use.

[greenwoodthegreat]

God the like Generic High Fantasy Elf frustrates me so much as a fan of Tolkiens elves who are like. Both balls to the wall insane and canonically fun at parties

[greenwoodthegreat]

Every time Sean Astin makes a statement on whether or not Sam and Frodo were indeed gay for each other in lord of the rings he’s always like “well we have to acknowledge that attitudes around sexuality have changed dramatically over the past several decades and since authorial intent is only up to speculation, the story is open to multiple readings, some of which might have different significances for different groups of people also they kiss on the lips because I said so”

[greenwoodthegreat]

WIBTA if I refused to give a family heirloom away?

I (36M) recently inherited the throne of my grandfather’s kingdom. I also inherited a family heirloom - a necklace containing a holy jewel that my parents liberated from the possession of an evil tyrant. This jewel had been in the tyrant’s possession for centuries, and my parents risked everything in their quest for it. My mother was kidnapped! My father was tortured, and later had his hand bitten off! Both of them died! (They came back, but still.) Their quest for the jewel became a symbol of hope to everyone on our continent - it showed that the tyrant could be successfully defied.

The tyrant in question originally stole this jewel and two others like it from their creator, a person I’ll call F (dead, M). F’s sons are determined to get these jewels back. They actually killed many of my great-uncle’s people, who were completely innocent, so they could steal their ships and sail to this continent in pursuit of the jewels. But when my parents went on their quest, F’s sons did not take the opportunity to help them liberate the jewels - instead they decided that my parents were their enemies. They deliberately sent my father to what they thought would be a torturous death, and then they not only kidnapped my mother to stop her from rescuing him, they tried to force her to marry one of them! After she escaped them and rescued my father, they again tried to kidnap her and then to kill her, severely wounding my father as he took the blow instead.

The point is, these people have shown themselves over and over to have nothing but hatred and contempt for my family. They are callous and cruel, and if anything they owe us many times over for all the violence they’ve committed against us! And they seem more invested in keeping anyone else from even looking at the jewels than in actually freeing them from the tyrant’s possession.

You can probably guess what I’m leading up to here. Just a few days ago I received a letter from the oldest son of F, who we’ll call M (4000ish I believe, M). He demanded that I hand over the jewel my parents liberated.

Of course my first reaction was outrage. How dare M demand anything of me after everything his brothers did to my parents? (And another thing - the necklace the jewel is currently set in? That belonged to a dear friend of my father’s family, who was ALSO betrayed to his death by F’s sons.) In his letter, M pointed out that the tyrant originally stole the jewel from his father F, and I agree that ordinarily that would mean M and his brothers should inherit it. But given everything the jewel means to my family and people, and everything my parents risked to free it, while F’s sons not only refused to lift a finger to help them but actually tried to get them killed, I think at this point we have more of a right to it than they do.

Honestly, I’m seriously considering telling them to get their own. It’s not like there aren’t another two in the same place my parents got this one! If they want one, why shouldn’t they put in the same effort and sacrifice my parents had to?

[greenwoodthegreat]

Y'all need to see this omfg this is so good holy shit I'm so normal about this

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Lammoth(?) aka Melkor and his 3-7 bodyguards

[greenwoodthegreat]

VILLAIN THROWDOWN FINALS

[greenwoodthegreat]

The Ancestor Problem

This issue popped up for me when I was writing “A Guide to Feanorian Elves,” and since the problem will also be mildly relevant to a story I’m planning to write once I finally get all the prompts done, I’ve kept mulling over it.

And that problem is great-great-great-grandparents.

In English, we don’t really need a quicker or more eloquent way of phrasing this. Unless you’re really into genealogy, you probably won’t refer to anyone that far back all that much, and you certainly aren’t going to be talking to them.

Elves, on the other hand, are a different story.

(Note: All of the following references to elvish are based on information from elfdict.com. It is entirely possible I’ve gotten something mixed up here, and if so, please feel free to correct me on it.)

Let’s say Elladan and/or Elrohir eventually sail West. There they’d see their father, which elvish has several words for, and their paternal grandfather, which Quenya also has a word for. 

But assuming that Idril and Tuor made it then, at the very least, their great-grandmother would also be there, which no form of elvish has a word for. There are several options for “great” though, and saying great-grandmother isn’t too much of a mouthful, right?

Except there are good odds that Turgon is either already released from Mandos or will be eventually - and even if he’s not, talking about that fact is a conversation that’s sure to come up from time to time, and great-great-grandfather is starting to get a little awkward.

And even if Fingolfin is never released, which seems doubtful, Anaire is still very much alive and great-great-great-grandmother really doesn’t roll off the tongue.

And while Finwe is definitely not coming back, Indis is still very much around, and by the time we get to four greats things are definitely starting to get ridiculous.

So what do the elves do? At a certain degree of familial distance do they just call each other by whatever name or title a non-related elf would use? If so, what degree of distance is it? Or do they stick to variations on grandfather/grandmother and leave the exact number of generations as a matter for family trees? Or do they eventually give in and come up with new words for each degree of generational distance?

Thoughts? 

[greenwoodthegreat]

Fuckin. Get thee gone from my blog thou pornbots of tumblr

[greenwoodthegreat]

Could I ask for 20,22 and 56?

Here you go!

…

The Halls of Mandos were seemingly endless.

Feanor said ‘seemingly’ because the walls were also endlessly shifting, and it was impossible to take any kind of accurate measurement under those conditions.

The walls were misty grey, and every so often they dissolved back to banks of fog that roiled through the caverns until they solidified back into walls, now in entirely new configurations.

It was an unsolvable labyrinth, and Feanor’s frustration with it only grew when the walls dissipated and reformed just as he caught his first glimpse of another fëa in the Halls. When the walls were solid once more, the other figure had vanished form sight, now Mandos only knew how many turns of the labyrinth away from him. 

That happened twice more in quick succession - too many times for it to be mere coincidence. Apparently, Mandos preferred to keep them in isolation. Perhaps he thought it would encourage reflection.

Feanor had been an inch away from one of his followers, both of them having sprinted towards each other, when a wall went up between them. The only thing Feanor was reflecting on was his desire to punch Mandos in the teeth.

Keep reading

[greenwoodthegreat]

Oh god don't take risk assessments from Fingon, Gil-galad. I'm so glad the family claims him, and I'm curious to hear the author's theory on where this one is from. My dumb theory: since the Elves' Maia heritage is down to Elrond, his sons, and maybe Elured and Elurin, it would be nice if he turned out to be related to the missing twins. My actual theory: no one in particular, the world is built by the ones who show up to work.

It’s not a dumb theory! It’s not, however, what I went with. For that, see below.

Quick note: Maglor’s wife in this is the same as his wife in my alternate character interpretation snippet for her. This will probably make more sense if you read that first.

Maedhros is barely a shadow when he first gets there, but Fingon stubbornly sticks around.

When Maedhros is well enough to listen and, in his opinion, in need of some distraction, he finally asks.

“I’m trying to figure out Gil-Galad’s parentage. I don’t suppose you know?”

Maehros looks startled, which is at least better than horrifically depressed. “He’s not yours?”

Fingon’s heard that from others. A lot of others. He doesn’t know why everyone keeps assuming that.

“Not mine.”

He’ll have to try Maedhros’s brothers later. For now, he’s right where he needs to be. 

“Fingon,” Curufin says from his place on the floor. He hasn’t bothered to open his eyes. Fingon never did learn the trick to that. “What do you want?”

Nice to see his time in Mandos hasn’t changed him. “To talk.”

“About?”

Fingon gives up and gets straight to the point. “Offspring.”

Curufin cracks one eye open and rolls over to face him. His face is shadowed through the bars. “I didn’t think you had any.”

“Yours,” he clarifies. 

That catches Curufin’s attention completely. He rolls to his feet, face tense. “Has something happened to Celebrimbor? The tapestries here are useless.”

Whoever’s in charge of these things apparently decided Curufin would benefit from graphic scenes of Finrod’s imprisonment. Fingon’s been trying not to look at them.

“He’s fine,” he assures him. “Or at least he was fine the last time someone died, there hasn’t been nearly as much of that going around since the war ended. I wanted to ask about the potential for … other offspring.”

Curufin looks around the lonely confines his cell with grim amusement. The bars are set deep into the stone. If there’s hinges or a lock, they aren’t visible. “At the moment, I would say the potential was low.”

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[greenwoodthegreat]

Where Is the Power that Made Your Pride?

Title is from Rudyard Kipling’s “What of the Hunting, Hunter Bold?”

(Also, please note that the following story is from Celegorm’s perspective. All views expressed therein are Celegorm’s opinions, not necessarily mine.)

…

Curufin had always talked fast. His ideas flowed far faster than his mouth could move, but that didn’t stop his mouth from desperately trying to keep up.

Their father had done it to a certain extent too, but their father’s innate respect for language had at least kept him intelligible. Curufin had no such boundaries, and when he got particularly excited, his words had a tendency to run together into a block of sound that left intense impressions on the listener’s mind without imparting anything so mundane as specifics. 

Celegorm was the only one who could reliably translate those rants. He was well used to decoding messages no one else thought of as language. He was the one who could capture his little brother’s brilliant ideas and summarize them for everyone else. Language was Celegorm’s portion of the family genius, and he was never more proud of it than then.

What had finally slowed his brother’s lightning mouth was Sindarin. Curufin had learned to speak it carefully, even through his scorn. He had refused to give anyone grounds to mock him for his ability with the tongue, and so he was careful to speak it perfectly, which precluded speaking at his closest approximation of the speed of thought. By the time he had learned the language perfectly, he was out of the habit.

Celegorm still held a grudge against Thingol for that.

Curufin was talking slowly now, painfully slowly, and Celegorm cursed not only Thingol but every member of his line as he knelt in the accursed halls of Doriath and held his broken brother in his arms.

Keep reading

[greenwoodthegreat]

saruman: i have decided, my fellow maia sauron who was once called mairon, to join you ally with your power. you have my dedication in respect for both your strength and our shared history

sauron: i see your dedication and i thank you for it. our old friendship shall be rekindled and taken forth anew

sauron, aside to the witch-king: i have no fucking clue who this guy is

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Lammoth(?) aka Melkor and his 3-7 bodyguards

[greenwoodthegreat]

Frodo: How do you know my name?

Elves: We have seen you often before with Bilbo, though you may not have seen us.

Frodo: that’s super creepy.

[greenwoodthegreat]

I desperately would love love LOVE to introduce Feanorians to a Quenyan version of Scrabble and watch them explode

I imagine that they'd make a bigger board to be able to fit 10-12 players and it would go on for days. With bickerings on the validity of words and with Moryo as the score keeper but can't quite keep his mouth shut and joins in on the bickering on wheter the word choice is "so fucking stupid, Tyelko. It should be banned on principle. What the fuck-". Each of the Feanorion just keeps on making up new rules especially after the Ambarussa makes up new words and argues for a whole hour and a half that it "totally counts as a word. Trust us, Nelyo-", that time Meadhros tried to pass a whole ass sentence as a "word", when Feanor took almost 12+ hours to think up an appropriate word to put down and etc.

Because come on guys. Ñoldor? "Those with great knowledge"? Feanor? The guy who created a whole ass writing system (the Tengwar)? His family? Who is just as intense and competitive as him? His step-siblings who would no doubt love an excuse to throw down without getting into trouble with the Valar or Finwë? Scrabble is THE BEST for Ñoldor Family Game Night(s).

I can just imagine Feanor playing scrabble with Finwë, Indis, Nolofinwë, Arafinwë, Írimë and Findis. Oh boyy. Findis is keeping score but everyone keeps trying to justify how they should have a higher score that word. Nolo and Feanor are shouting. Accusing each other for cheating. Ara made a throwaway joke once and suddenly BOTH his brothers are shouting at him. Indis saw the chaos and wanted to put away the game but was immediately stopped. Finwë is just happy to spend time with his family. Írimë is, in fact, the one who is cheating

[Edited to keep it to one post. Was too excited to post]