#{tales in darkness ^ a life in angband}

[meadowlarkx]

Some March fic recs!

For Tolkien Fanfic Reading Month! Limiting myself to stories I read in March (but posted anytime). (header by Anna Zakharova on Unsplash)

picnic by @swanmaids - A bored and reckless Aredhel goes to Vána's orchards seeking adventure and has an experience. This lush and sexy fic feels like a warm summer afternoon. I love how seductive and eerie Vána is here!

Kiss and Marry by @thecoolblackwaves - Have you ever looked at Celegorm and Curufin and thought, "They should be the stars of a romcom"? No? This fic is here to reveal that wonder to you.

弄假成真 by Divano_Messiah - Maglor has been telling people at school that he has a boyfriend. Maedhros is jealous until he learns who it is. (I admit I read this via google translate, you can too...)

Envy by @polutrope - In Tirion, Maglor and Elemmírë struggle to handle each other's reputations with equanimity. The people around them try to respond. This fic is so funny and sweet--I love this take on Elemmírë and Fëanor's guest appearance is hilariously him.

Youthful Regrets by kitkatkaylie - Turgon and Maglor fall in love in Valinor before Turgon's engagement to Elenwë. I really like the personality contrasts of this ship, with Turgon opening up to Maglor, and how this story sketches out their relationship through the whole arc of Silm to its bitter separation.

I risk my life to make my name by @maironsbigboobs - The brave knight Galadriel goes on a journey to meet the Green Woman Melian and her fate, ft. adventures along the way. I love how Tolkien is blended with Arthurian conventions here--it works so well and brings out the myth vibes of Silm that I love so much!

Strange Currencies chapter 12 by @jouissants - This is such a beautifully-crafted tale in every regard, but I want to especially mention this flashback chapter I read in March, covering Maedhros' and Maglor's voyage on the swan ships up to just before Fëanor's death. The horror of the Fëanorian Noldor arriving in the dark with their distrust, inflated ego, and total lack of knowledge of Middle-earth comes through here so, so vividly--this part can be read by itself, go check it out!!

Oubliette by Stramonium - Horrifying and so vividly written scene of Maedhros in Angband, isolation, and monstrosity. Poetic and awful, I can't do it justice in summarizing it.

arrangement for flute and harp by @jouissants - Maedhros is determined to work late, so Maglor and Fingon decide to entertain each other. The Himring atmosphere and incredible character dynamics make this also really sexy smut such a wonderful story.

whatever you would crave by @eight-pointed-star - Sooo sexy ficlet in which Fingon and Maedhros attend to Maglor's Needs. Short but immensely powerful.

scherzo for ink and parchment by @dovewifes - Charming and comedic missives exchanged between Maedhros and Maglor during the Long Peace, ft. romantic endearments and the invention of emojis. Maedhros' so-apparent love for Maglor is something I especially cherish about this fun fic.

Star-kissed by @aipilosse - Celeborn of Doriath rescues recently-of-Gondolin (and silver-haired!) Celebrimbor from a predicament in Nan Dungortheb. Incredibly clever, funny, and hot!

Purification by @zealouswerewolfcollector - Thingol is curious about Maedhros: throne sex ensues. A favorite ship of mine in a flavor I'd never considered. Incredibly intense and super well-written.

Comfort from a Heavy Hand by @undercat-overdog - After the Bragollach, Mablung tends to an injured Beleg, and they seek comfort together. The wreckage and destruction of the battle feels so vivid in this one, and the dynamic of Beleg/Mablung as past teacher and student (and current battle companions) is wonderful.

Thou knowest to-night, and wilt know to-morrow by @welcomingdisaster - A brilliant installment in an ongoing Children of Húrin AU series that has the most beautiful, unsettling, and dreamlike atmosphere. In this fic Maedhros teaches "Cáno" about pleasure in preparation for their marriage bed. Catnip to me personally!!

Proxy by @aipilosse - Celebrimbor comes to reproach Celegorm in Nargothrond after Finrod's departure. They fuck. Gender, tension, messy and complicated emotional dynamics all around. The dirty talk is so so good.

Star of the Nevrast Shore by joanofarcstan - Silmarillion filk of one of my favorite folk songs! What more is there to say!! A sweet tale of Gondolin told from Voronwë's point of view, recounting the love between him, Tuor (the star of the Nevrast shore), Idril, and Maeglin.

A Light Burns in the Forest by fictional_hr_department - Thranduil and Oropher escape Menegroth with child Elwing. The title and art by @lycheesodas give me chills and the atmosphere of the fic as they make their disorienting journey to Sirion really brings to life the terrible aftermath of the second kinslaying.

By Your Side by HiyoriTomioka - fem!Eärendil and Elwing support each other in this ficlet... such a good vision of this ship, and the way Eärendil thinks about Tuor and Idril here with longing uncertainty makes me think of a trans!Eärendil even though that is not explicit.

Something Sleepless in Mirkwood by @imakemywings - Thranduil sickens as the Greenwood does. Elrond tries to heal him, but can't understand at first what's happening. Brilliant and canon-compliant (To Me) wry, proud, and eerie woodland king Thranduil--go give this a read!

A boat, my boat, out upon the River by Tethys_resort - Sméagol is trying to craft his own boat to take fishing. His family keeps getting in the way. This sweet fic paints such an idyllic picture of proto-Hobbit life and made me really feel the tragedy of Gollum.

The Fortress by TheLegendCreator - Brief and haunting fic in which a Dwarf visits the ruins of Himring and they have a conversation. I love the view this offers of Maedhros and the fierce loyalty Himring and its folk had for him.

one whole with my other by @i-am-a-lonely-visitor - Indis' marriage to Finwë is transferred to bind her instead to reembodied Míriel. This turns out to be a good thing. An incredibly touching, beautifully wrought and worldbuilt story. I just love it so much.

The Number One Exercise for Relieving Work-Related Stress (Click to Find Out!) by @imakemywings - Date night in Mirkwood. Maglor (Noldorin princess, ex-kinslayer) adorns herself for the benefit of Thranduil (the Elvenqueen)--or that's her plan, anyway. This story is so sexy, so funny, and honestly so touching. I just adore this ship as a happy ending for Maglor and their relationship is gorgeously fleshed out here.

Cousin, Sister, Lover, Queen by broken_pencils - Lesbian Éowyn discovers desire... through Éomer's betrothed Lothíriel. Lothíriel is a stealth fav for me from the Éomer fics I used to read as a kid and I really enjoyed her here, and the lush atmosphere of this story.

His Return by @danmeiljie - Beautiful, tender scene of Maedhros and Maglor reuniting as per @tari-cua's art. Such lovely descriptions in this one and so cozy.

[outofangband]

Review of Angband’s Interrogations and How Successful They Were:

Obviously I focused extra on (BoLT) Maedhros and Húrin because they are my favorites and there’s more about both in their tags

Angband World Building and Aftermath of Captivity Masterlist

cw: mentions of canon/Semi canon torture including cruelty to eagles :/, brief mention of canon suicide (Húrin and children)

Subject/Victim: several eagles of Manwë

Information wanted: secrets of flight

Victim acquired: unknown

Methods used: unknown though we do know Morgoth took some of their wings :/

Success: little to none. The eagles yielded no secrets and Morgoth did not learn flight

Outcome for victim: some were killed, others unknown

Canon: no, this is from the Book of Lost Tales

Subject/victim: Maedhros (Maidros)

Information wanted: secrets of jewel making

Victim acquired: captured during a siege at the gates of Angband

Methods used: unknown

Success: unclear but probably little. The book does not say that Maedhros revealed anything and Morgoth certainly doesn’t actually make any jewels

Outcome for victim: released without reasoning, alive though “maimed”

Canon: no, this is from the Book of Lost Tales

Subject/victim: Gorlim

Information wanted: Location of Barahir and his outlaws

Victim acquired: captured by Sauron’s forces in newly occupied Dorthonion

Methods used: bribery/manipulation, Gorlim was told he would be reunited with his wife

Success: location gotten and Barahir and his men, minus Beren, killed

Outcome for victim: killed by Sauron

Canon: yes

Subject/victim: Finrod, Beren and their companions

Information wanted: purpose of the quest and identity of its members

Victim acquired: The group attempted to infiltrate Tol Sirion and were caught

Methods used: mostly unknown but the chains that bound them in the dark were themselves carnivorous and one by one the party was eaten alive by wolves which

Success: This version of the quest failed but ultimately Sauron never discovered the identity of Finrod, Beren was rescued, and Sauron lost Tol Sirion

Outcome for victim: Finrod and the others killed but Beren was rescued

Canon: yes

Subject/victim: Húrin

Information wanted: the location of Gondolin and information on the councils of Turgon

Victim acquired: Captured on the orders of Morgoth by Gothmog at the end of the Nírnaeth

Methods used: mostly unknown. All we have in The Children of Húrin is that Húrin was “set in slow torment”. The Lay of the Children of Húrin mentions whips and brands. Also brief attempted bribery. Obviously threats of unspecified harm to Morwen and Túrin.

Success: as I’m specifically looking at interrogations in Angband, this was unsuccessful. Húrin never told the location or any information on the councils of Turgon in Angband

Outcome for victim: Chained to Thangorodrim to watch his family suffer, then released decades later after the suicide of both children, eventually took his own life about a year after release

Canon: yes and predates it, appearing in The Book of Lost Tales as well

Subject/victim: Maeglin

Information wanted: further details on the location of Gondolin, weaknesses to the city

Victim acquired: captured by orcs while in caves near one of the entrances to Gondolin

Methods used: threatened with “unimaginable torment”, bribery/manipulation

Success: Maeglin gave the information and Gondolin fell

Outcome for victim: Maeglin was released to act as an agent within Gondolin but died in the fall when killed by an in law

Canon: yes

Further notes:

-Angband has about a thirty three percent success rate according to these examples.

-They are most successful when using bribery and manipulation rather than outright torture

-I still want to know what slow torment means…

[novemberthecatadmirer]

The thing is

It’s not “Maeglin was so young he stood no chance”

It’s “Most people got taken to Angband to be tortured for information stood no chance”

Maedhros was Maedhros. (I headcanon he cracked a little bit too but at that time there was not so much useful information for Morgoth to get and use. And he lasted enough for his brothers to swiftly move away before he revealed their camp site

(In lost tale version Morgoth tortured him to get information on jewelry making… I always feel that part is so funny because SERIOUSLY Maedhros probably did not know anything about crafting of Silmarils he probably wasn’t even interested

Finrod was Finrod. He and his ten went on their quest prepared for the possibility of getting caught and tortured for information. And they were the crazily brave ones they were not ordinary people.

Hurin didn’t but then Morgoth changed tactics. Isn’t Hurin’s release after seeing his children die another form of torture? His freedom was an extension of the torture and it was under this torture he finally cracked and revealed the general location of Gondolin. (Turgon did the last blow

—————

The thing is I never headcanon Maeglin as a broken little boy. He was charming, brave, and wanted to help people. He had his unresolved trauma but he was able to manage his life pretty well.

He had ambition and wanted power, but ambition was also a form of hope. Having ambition means you believe there is a better future for yourself and you can get it through hard work and careful planning.

Yeah he had his little crush but unrequited crush is normal and he knew to not express it when the feeling was not returned. (The Silm version)

The thing is I think he would be pretty fine if he did not get Morgothed

He was just an ordinary person, braver than many but not the most brave ones, smarter than many but not wise enough

He just happened to have higher chance of getting snatched up due to his profession. And I think he’s already on the top wanted list as lord and loyalty

Morgoth exploited his love for Idril and likely poked at all his trauma very hard. But the thing is, for first age elf trauma was common.

If it was someone else I bet Morgoth would still find enough weak spots to exploit

Him staying silent was bad but not surprising. The interesting thing was no one noticed except Idril, or no one tried to do anything. If anything this means Gondolin had a HUGE security hole. And possibly so many people were a little bit crazy in the end that Maeglin being crazy did not even stand out.

—————

What is rather unnerving is, think about it, basing the security of your city on nobody revealing its location was just an awful idea.

Because the enemy would turn to you after he destroyed all the other realms that served as distraction for you

Because you ended up relying your well-being on expecting other people losing everything they had to keep secret for you. Again and again until someone finally cracked

Because you started to do evil yourself. To force people choose between staying and death. To abandon your own people to darkness because no one was allowed to lead danger to your nice little doors. To kill innocents that unfortunately step into the land you claimed. (Implied by “of Tuor and His Coming to Gondolin”; Tuor was pretty much spared because of his seaweed cloak

[dialux]

Finwëans: The Kings of the Noldor

3/7

But Melkor also was there, and he came to the house of Fëanor, and there he slew Finwë King of the Noldor before his doors, and spilled the first blood in the Blessed Realm; for Finwë alone had not fled from the horror of the Dark.

In that time was born in Eldamar, in the house of the King in Tirion upon the crown of Túna, the eldest of the sons of Finwë, and the most beloved. Curufinwë was his name, but by his mother he was called Fëanor, Spirit of Fire; and thus he is remembered in all the tales of the Noldor. It was Fëanor’s genius that crafted the Silmarils, the loveliest and greatest of the crafts of the Noldor. When Morgoth stole the Silmarils and slayed Fëanor’s father, Finwë, Fëanor and all his sons swore an oath to retrieve the gems; all but one of them would die in the attempt.

Maedhros was crowned king following Fëanor’s death in Beleriand at the hands of Morgoth’s balrogs, but swiftly after was captured by Morgoth and tortured for many long years until his cousin and close friend Fingon son of Fingolfin rescued him. Maedhros in time was healed of Morgoth’s tortures; for the fire of life was hot within him, and his strength was of the ancient world, such as those possessed who were nurtured in Valinor. His body recovered from his torment and became hale, but the shadow of his pain was in his heart; and he lived to wield his sword with left hand more deadly than his right had been.

Maglor was mighty among the singers of old, named only after Daeron of Doriath; he was crowned by his brother Celegorm the Fair following Maedhros’ capture by Morgoth, and ruled for nearly three decades over the Noldor in Beleriand until Maedhros was rescued by Fingon the Valiant, when Maedhros surrendered the kingship to their half-uncle, Fingolfin son of Indis.

But in the hour of Mandos’ Doom Finarfin had forsook the march, and turned back, being filled with grief, and with bitterness against the House of Fëanor, because of his kinship with Olwë of Alqualondë; and many of his people went with him, retracing their steps in sorrow, until they beheld once more the far beam of the Mindon upon Túna still shining in the night, and so came at last to Valinor. There they received the pardon of the Valar, and Finarfin was set to rule the remnant of the Noldor in the Blessed Realm.

Fingolfin was crowned by his nephew Maedhros during the Dagor Aglareb in the height of the Noldor power across Beleriand, and ruled well and justly as High King for the vast majority of the First Age. It was during the Dagor Bragollach, when Fingolfin beheld what he perceived to be a defeat beyond redress of all the houses of the Noldor, that he, filled with wrath and despair, mounted upon Rochallor his great horse and rode forth alone, and none might restrain him. Thus he came alone to Angband’s gates, and he sounded his horn, and smote once more upon the brazen doors, and challenged Morgoth to come forth to single combat, wherein he wounded Morgoth seven times ere Morgoth killed him. Thus died Fingolfin, High King of the Noldor, most proud and valiant of the Elven-kings of old.

Great was the lamentation in Hithlum when the fall of Fingolfin became known, and Fingon in sorrow took up the lordship of the house of Fingolfin and the kingdom of the Noldor until the betrayal and ruin of the Noldor during the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, when Gothmog hewed him with his black axe, and a white flame sprang up from the helm of Fingon as it was cloven.

By trickery and deceit did Morgoth achieve the shattering of Maedhros’ Union during the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, but the thought of Morgoth dwelt ever upon Turgon; for Turgon had escaped him, of all his foes that one whom he most desired to take or to destroy. And that thought troubled him, and marred his victory, for Turgon of the mighty house of Fingolfin was now by right King of all the Noldor; and most of all his kin Morgoth feared Turgon; for of old in Valinor his eye had lighted upon him, and whenever he drew near a shadow had fallen on his spirit, foreboding that in some time that yet lay hidden, from Turgon ruin should come to him.

And when the tidings came to Balar of the fall of Gondolin and the death of Turgon, Ereinion Gil-galad was named High King of the Noldor in Middle-earth. He reigned over the Noldor until the end of the Second Age when Sauron the Deceiver was defeated by the Union of Elves and Men, though Gil-galad himself was slain in the final battle. With him ended the line of High Kings of the Noldor in Middle-Earth.

[squirrelwrangler]

Retellings of the Silmaril Quest of Lúthien and Beren, the Lay of Leithian in the form of poetry and countless works of material art in the form of paintings, tapestries, and sculpture, are more unavoidable in the start of the Second Age here in Tol Erresëa and Valinor than Faelindis would have imagined. The songs were composed and sung extensively before the Fall of Nargothrond and even whispered, softly and fitfully, in the bowels of Angband, and it is a tale of hope and joy and triumph. Faelindis flinches. She cannot help it. She met Lúthien, knew her during her unhappy time in Nargothrond and had been overwhelmed by not only beauty but the kindness and diamond-hard conviction of self. Faelindis knows the shame of how neither her nor Lady Finduilas had aided Princess Lúthien, unable to free her from her captors or convince the city to change their hearts. That had been bitter, while Lúthien yet lived her second life with Beren far to the south, despite the apology letters sent and received by Lady Finduilas. The desperate undercurrent to Túrin's treatment, that this time he would be heeded and given aid and love, to be worthy of Lúthien's grace. Others are tactful enough not to bring up Túrin's tale and stories of his deeds and doom in Faelindis's presence. But she cannot escape the images of Lúthien. And there is no fairness to Faelindis's fear and the seed of hate that it is germinating.

Faelindis was never dragged before the Iron Throne, but she knows the walls of Angband and the echoes of Morgoth's voice, and she cannot bear it, not a single time more, to see a depiction of that throne room and Lúthien standing so brave and tall and clever before the Dark King surrounded by his orcs and wolves. She cannot hear of Lúthien's imprisonment in three-trunked Hírilorn and the daring escape via an enchantment of hair. The comparison to the coffin-sized stone cell that Faelindis was forced into during her decades of imprisonment are nothing at all alike. Years of Angband, years without the hint of the sun or stars, of orcs and balrogs, of the only face not unkind being her Faron, and he but a despairing ghost like her. Decades of slavery and the orcs' leering eyes. Faron in warg pit - she cannot look at images of noble Huan beside the brave and steadfast lovers without flinching. Facing off against Carcharoth when the snarling of young wargs frightened her, when still Faelindis sees how Faron flinches from the barking of dogs and feels the scars of their fangs on his arms. The Gardens of Lórien dampened the memories and removed most marks on their bodies, but when Faelindis dreams, she remembers weeping. She remembers listless terror and hopeless acceptance.

'But you escaped from Angband' others remind Faelindis, as if she had not followed mutely and bewildered, without faith in hope of true escape. She had only followed Faron because she had not wanted to die alone in the dark, surrounded by orcs and balrogs and wargs. There had been no goal, no confidence.

Still the well-meaning show her images of the escape from Angband, as if Faelindis would offer commentary on the accuracy of Thangorodrim's chimneys in the background.

Almost a year with the sensation of Tol Eressëa's fresh air upon her cheeks, the feel of sun and stars softening what memories linger beneath the darkness of her dreams, of Faron's returned smiles, only then does Faelindis look closely at a painting of Beren and Lúthien's escape from Angband. The image that she reexamines made her flinch, as all did, even the joyous ones. But this one is from the moment after Carcharoth has bitten off Beren's hand, and it reminds Faelindis of Gwindor's missing hand and Faron's missing fingers. The lovers are stumbling through the broken craters and ash-covered wasteland that surrounds Angband, a terrain that Faelindis knows exactly how it feels beneath uncovered feet.

Lúthien's facial expression is bewildered and scared, which Faelindis blames the artist for an overreach of imagination - Faelindis met Lúthien in Nargothrond when she had been imprisoned and desperate to rescue Beren from the Isle of Werewolves, when she had been scared that her beloved was dying and had not been deterred. Lúthien was defiance incarnate. Not lost. Not clinging to Beren. Not tottering aimlessly through that slag field of ash with their quest in ruins.

Faelindis pulls the seed of resentment out of her chest and lets it wither in the open air, drowning it with another spat of weak tears.

She buys the painting. Faron says nothing when she hangs it in their house.

[warrioreowynofrohan]

(Yes, last round was also 6. I can’t count lol. It should have been 5.)

The responses for this one are fairly obscure, so I’m going to provide some context:

Marach: Led the group of Edain who would later become the House of Hador into Beleriand

In the next year Marach led his people over the mountains; they were a tall and warlike folk, marching in ordered companies, and the Elves of Ossiriand hid themselves and did not waylay them. But Marach, hearing that the people of Bëor were dwelling in a green and fertile land, came down the Dwarf-road, and settled in the country south and east of the dwellings of Baran son of Bëor; and there was great friendship between those peoples.

Malach: Marach’s son, went to Hithlum to serve with Fingolfin and was given the name Aradan by them; later returned to East Beleriand and became chieftain of his people after Marach’s death.

Fingolfin, as King of the Noldor, sent messengers of welcome to them; and then many young and eager men of the Edain went away and took service with the kings and lords of the Eldar. Among them was Malach son of Marach, and he dwelt in Hithlum for fourteen years; and he learned the Elven-tongue and was given the name of Aradan.

Amlach: Malach’s nephew; was one of the opponents of the Edain allying with the Elves; after a servant of Angband impersonated him at an Edain council meeting he changed his mind and went to serve in Maedhros’ armies

The leaders of discontent were Bereg of the house of Bëor, and Amlach, one of the grandsons of Marach; and they said openly: “We took long roads, desiring to escape the perils of Middle-earth and the dark things that dwell there; for we heard that there was Light in the West. But now we learn that the Light is beyond the Sea. Thither we cannot come where the Gods dwell in bliss. Save one; for the Lord of the Dark is here before us, and Eldar, wise but fell, who make endless war upon him. In the North he dwells, they say; and there is the pain and death from which we fled. We will not go that way.”

Then a council and assembly of men was called, and great numbers came together….there arose one who seemed to all to be Amlach son of Imlach, speaking fell words that shook the hearts of all who heard him: “All this is but Elvish lore, tales to beguile newcomers that are unaware. The Sea has no shore. There is no Light in the West. You have followed a fool-fire of the Elves to the end of the world! Which of you has seen the least of the Gods? Who has beheld the Dark King in the North? Those who seek the dominion of Middle-earth are the Eldar. Greedy for wealth they have delved in the earth for its secrets and have stirred to wrath the things that dwell beneath it, as they have ever done and ever shall. Let the Orcs have the realm that is theirs, and we will have ours. There is room in the world, if the Eldar will let us be!”

Then those that listened sat for a while astounded, and a shadow of fear fell on their hearts; and they resolved to depart far from the lands of the Eldar. But afterwards Amlach returned among them, and denied that he had been present at their debate or had spoken such words as they reported; and there was doubt and bewilderment among Men…But Amlach repented, saying: “I have now a quarrel of my own with this Master of Lies, which will last to my life’s end”; and he went away north and entered the service of Maedhros.

[crownlessliestheking]

Is the Silm Grimdark?

In which I discuss this, for fun, and explore the idea. This is not an essay or a sophisticated thinkpiece, this is me collecting information and then thinking aloud at myself. There might be quotes! There might not! I don’t know yet. I am aware that Tolkien would not have intended it to be read as grimdark. I am aware that thematically, this is not what jirt was about. I’m not really trying to convince anyone of anything so much as I am trying to convince myself, or just take these and see what conclusions I end up at and examine this from a bunch of different angles, since I’m chronically incapable of doing it any other way. Since this is like 5,000 words, it’s under a read more. It...ballooned.

To preface, I don’t think that grimdark fiction is necessarily a bad genre, and I definitely don’t mind it when it’s done well. I also suspect that my definition of grimdark fiction might be a little unique, so I won’t just be basing this on my own subjective views- at least not at first. This goes for the characters as well; while I’ve tried to stick close to canon, there is little doubt in my mind that both fanon and my own headcanons will seep in when I’m discussing some of them- particularly the Feanorians.

The definitions are quotes from the Wikipedia article on grimdark, since they summarize it well; actual sources are included down below if you want to take a closer look at them! 3/4 are actually book reviews, the Roberts one is a book. So! Let’s get going: what is grimdark, and do any definitions of it fit the Silmarillion?

Might is Right

Definition: Adam Roberts describes grimdark as a genre "where nobody is honourable and Might is Right.” To him, it is "the standard way of referring to fantasies that turn their backs on the more uplifting, Pre-Raphaelite visions of idealized medievaliana, and instead stress how nasty, brutish, short and, er, dark life back then 'really' was". But this comes with the caveat that grimdark is not interested in re-imagining historic reality, and focuses instead on the sense that our world is a “cynical, disillusioned, ultraviolent place".

Does this jive with the Silmarillion? I would say emphatically not. While lives are certainly cut short, and while the world has been marred/darkened, it would be incorrect to say that all of the characters’ lives to follow that Hobbesian philosophy, or that any of them in-universe felt this way about themselves. At least, not textually, but fanon and headcanon will do what they will, I think.  Perhaps if you were an orc, or a thrall in Angband, or an unnamed elf with little plot importance, it would be different. The Edain certainly did suffer- but even in these cases, the focus is not on how miserable they are when they’re alive. The story does not dwell on these minutiae, even if we can extrapolate that it exists. Certainly, characters are not disproportionately rewarded for being powerful- the elves that are very skilled combatants do not have this set out as the only thing good about them. It’s not a redeeming quality, and even with characters like Rog, who are counted as the strongest of the Noldor (at least he was in the Book of Lost Tales), it’s not the strength that matters, it’s what he does with it. Similarly, Maedhros is noted for his daring deeds during the Siege of Angband, but the details on those are sketchy- instead, the Silm tells us that Morgoth was penned in, and that there was peace for a time because of those deeds- they were more an act of protection, than anything else. (And, arguably, prudence, so no Feanorians started any shit with others.) And, well. The greatest and rather most obvious repudiation of might is right is simply that Morgoth does not win. Morgoth is not glorified in an inappropriate way- he is, after all, one of the Valar, so he’s incredibly powerful, and he is the mightiest of the Valar. He kills Finwe and gets the Silmarils, but this isn’t treated as an impressive thing, rather an evil one. Even in Beleriand, when the Bragollach breaks the Siege, his triumph is cut short by Fingolfin wounding him. And that’s important, too, because it shows that he is not invulnerable, that he can be hurt, and his wounds troubled him for- well. Pretty much ever, after that.

Might and power are not what the Silm emphasizes as good traits, and powerful characters who do morally grey (or straight up bad!) things are not rewarded accordingly. You might argue that Tolkien had a fairy tale view of what was Good and what was Evil, but I think that the Silm does blur those lines. And even in those not considered good, what Tolkien values and praises about them- at least in characters described as great- is creation, and then later, preservation. Evidenced by Feanor (greatest of the Noldor, despite eveything!), evidenced by Celebrimbor and Galadriel and Elrond, and the use of the Three. This is not particularly grimdark.

Dark Realism and Psychology

To Genevieve Valentine, grimdark a "shorthand for a subgenre of fantasy fiction that claims to trade on the psychology of those sword-toting heroes, and the dark realism behind all those kingdom politics". As the source for this quote is a review, she says “the Land Fit for Heroes is as grim and as dark as it gets [...] the structure of the books allows for nothing else.” She does make a note that the book in question states that power corrupts absolutely, and- I have not read The Land Fit for Heroes, but that not entirely out of line with what Tolkien stated (especially power taken for the dominion of others, rather than given, and used lightly). She also notes that it focuses on hyper-violence and cycles of violence treated casually, the same with sex and sexual violence. Which, while it may be specific to the work being reviewed, the realism element is present in other definitions and so is being included here.

Once more, this does not agree with the Silm. It’s actually somewhat difficult to elaborate on, given the narrative style of the Silmarillion. It focuses so much on big events and reads as myth that there is little room for a focus on the details of politics- beyond isolationism in Doriath and Gondolin, and tensions over the Kingship of the Noldor- and even that reads as a brotherly conflict between Feanor and Fingolfin, and is then resolved...simply. Maedhros abdicates, the kingship passes to Fingolfin’s line for the sake of unity, and no Feanorian is recorded as having tried to scheme to take it back like we might see in a more contemporary, darker setting. It’s simply given away, and this is accepted.

Similarly, the story does not give very much insight into the psyche of many characters- a lot of what we have is extrapolation from a few lines, from events. There’s no angst in the sense of getting a blow-by-blow for what a certain character is thinking at a given time, especially when they’re suffering. It simply tells us that they are being tormented, and that’s that. Even in CoH, where Turin has a bad fucking time all the time, every single moment of grief and horror is not put under a magnifying glass for our viewing pleasure. Certainly, there is a lot of grief, a lot of darkness and torture and awful, awful things, but it does not treat them casually, or as so normal in this world that they can be considered par for course. They happen, but they are condemned in universe.

As to the sex- well. That’s a non-starter as well, and I do not think the NoME would shed any light on that beyond some seriously confusing math that was probably never meant to see the light of day.

Realism, Darkness, and Agency

According to Jared Shurin, grimdark fantasy has three key components: a grim and dark tone, a sense of realism, and the agency of the protagonists. Heroes are flawed, kings are useless, and rather than a sense of pre-destination and how the characters will prevail, they actively have to choose between good and evil, and are “just as lost as we are.” He goes on to say, “But with grimdark, the future is mucky and undefined - evil could very well win. Perhaps that's the most realistic part of the genre. Or perhaps that's the grimmest - there's no longer a cosmic safety net for either the characters or the readers. Anything can happen [...] Characters weren't being rewarded as the tradition demanded, instead their decisions - whether Good or Bad - brought them the appropriate, in-world consequences. This is the randomness of real life, coupled with a sort of karmic brilliance: there's a casual link between choices and conclusions.”

Now this is where we start to see elements that are present in the Silmarillion. From the second that they enter Beleriand, from the second that Feanor just dies- and he’s been set up as the protagonist of that part of the Silm, in a way, we are to an extent on his side and rooting for him-, things start to go wrong. Right then, the future becomes undefined, the traditional narrative of a hero (a morally grey one, at that) defying the odds to achieve his goal is stopped in its tracks. Feanor is set up as so much, and he dies, just like that, before he does anything- and that’s where this element of uncertainty comes in. Feanor dies, Maedhros is captured, and things go wrong immediately. There’s no real safety net for the characters or the readers anymore.

But it’s what happens next, that contradicts this, doesn’t it. Fingon rescues Maedhros. He saves Maedhros from Thangorodrim, and yes, Maedhros loses a hand and is not the same person he once was, but he survives. The Noldor go, regardless of the Doom, but this isn’t seen as a bad thing by the narrative. Of course- the narrative in question is quite literally called the Noldolante, so that might be difficult to discern. And Maedhros abdicates, Fingolfin becomes king, and there is hope again. But only for a time. Because the Siege of Angband ends, and no matter how hopeful the elves are, it does not change the fact that Morgoth is much, much mightier than them. He doesn’t win, of course, because might is not everything. But the world is a dark place- literally, since Ungoliant consumed the light of the Trees-, and it will get darker. This is a losing battle and not all the Noldor accept it, and this brings us to the Doom.

Shurin says that part of grimdark literature is about agency and choice, that characters must make decisions, and face the consequences for them. And this is true, but in a world like the Silmarillion, where the question of fate versus free will almost always is answered by fate, how much agency do these characters have? The Doom of the Noldor outlines the woes to come right at the beginning- and agency or not, there is the sense that there is going to be no hope there. There’s going to be no help from the Valar, the gods are quite literally not listening to any prayers. And the Noldor, Finarfin’s host excepted, do not care. They accept this fate, they say ‘not today’, and they go forth to their doom- some more immediate than others. Arguably this too is grimdark in a sense- they use their agency and they make a choice, and they suffer for it with their destiny hanging over their heads.

Now, where does the Oath fit into this? It is not a prophecy, but it shapes the Feanorians in an undeniable way. Their fate is that their deeds will be twisted to bad ends, and that’s exactly what happens. It causes them to do awful things, it turns them from heroes to villains, and it does this in a way that makes their agency questionable. Fans (myself included) like to characterize them as being tormented by the Oath, as not having a choice about it, but the text does demonstrate that they’re able to choose to some extent- they try diplomacy with Dior, they do not attack Luthien while she has the Silmaril. And they choose to go after the Silmaril that Beren had gotten, instead of the other two that are in Morgoth’s crown. Is this really a choice? I don’t know. Is it a choice between good and evil? Between bad and worse? Between certain death and evil deeds? Probably all of the above. But Shurin points out that the characters in grimdark stories are to an extent lost, and must actively choose between good and evil (although not what they will choose), and. A choice of which Silmarils to go after is made here. Certainly, they were way more likely to get that than the other two.

Either way, there’s certainly realism and realistic consequences to it- they decide to try for the Silmaril in Doriath. But why should Dior give this up? He’s not going to see that the guys who imprisoned his mother for a time deserve what’s now an heirloom of his. Fuck them, right? And they want the gem, so badly that they’re willing to kill for it- and they do. But it would be ridiculous if they all survived, so they don’t. What does this attempt at capture entail? Definitely innocents getting caught up in it too, like Elured and Elurin. But if it’s chaotic enough to lose two children, it’s chaotic enough to lose more than that. The Silmaril and Elwing escape the this final ruin of Doriath, and of course they’re going to chase after it, that’s only logical. Just as it makes sense for Elwing to make the same choice as her father and not give the Silmaril up to the people who murdered her family. Every character makes choices, in this case, and in-world, the choices have consequences. And, well. In this case, none of them are exactly good.

By this definition, the Silm is in fact grimdark, which is not the conclusion I was expecting to draw here.

Nihilism and Overturning Heroism

In a review of the same Land Fit For Heroes trilogy, Liz Bourke posits that grimdark is “a retreat into the valorisation of darkness for darkness's sake, into a kind of nihilism that portrays right action ... as either impossible or futile.” It “values its gritty realism” and “attempts to overturn long-established heroic tropes.” She also says that the nihilism is something that  many people find comforting: if everything is terrible and no moral decision can either be meaningful or have any lasting effect, then it rather absolves one from trying to make things better, doesn't it?)”

There is no doubt that the Silm is morally grey. With the exception of Beren and Luthien (who are of course perfect, and rock their happy ending), almost every character- yes, even the ‘good’ ones, has done something bad. Almost all the Noldor who were in Beleriand either participated in the first Kinslaying or stood aside and implicitly condoned it by expecting to use the boats that were gained from it, although they likely later condemned it. Their personal feelings on the matter are unknown. And that’s the best of the lot. The Feanorians do much, much worse thanks to their Oath; while they might be the ‘protagonists’ in the sense that the Quenta Silmarillion centers around their quest to regain the Silmarils, they do terrible, terrible things for the sake of this goal. There’s two more kinslayings, after all, and after the Bragollach, and then the Battle of Unnumbered Tears when the Siege is broken, it goes downhill quickly. From Celegorm and Curufin’s actions in Nargothrond (both wrt Finrod and Luthien), to Doriath to Sirion, the worst of the three, where they killed those who were refugees from Gondolin, elves they may have fought with or known before, it just gets darker. And they die, too, at each of these. Celegorm, Curufin, and Caranthir die in Doriath at the Second Kinslaying, and Amrod and Amras die at the Third. By the time the War of Wrath comes along, they’re so far reduced from what they were- that Maedhros is not the same one who was the Lord of Himring, and that Maglor is not the same as the one who held the Gap. They’re not the heroes that they might have been, that’s for sure.

But there are plenty of heroic characters- Finrod, Fingon, Fingolfin (lots of Fins)- that fall into the more traditional mold. And, importantly, they all die, the latter two as a consequence of their heroic/valorous actions, while Fingon dies in battle. None of these heroes meet a good end; in the tradition of the Silm, their deaths are pretty fucking awful, actually.

...And then there’s Turin. His story is arguably the one that best repudiates the idea of a hero, in the traditional sense. If that doesn’t do it, then nothing will, right? Because if anyone wanted to argue that CoH is the darkest story in the Silm, I wouldn’t protest it. A lot goes on. Turin’s lot is a fucking miserable one, he’s cursed by Morgoth, and it starts bad, ends worse, and he either kills or causes the deaths of everyone that he loves. Misery chases this man for the entirety of his life, starting from the death of his younger sister and- well. Also ending with the death of another sister. He flees Doriath, he falls in with outlaws, he gets betrayed and accidentally kills Beleg (his lover/best friend, who followed him from Doriath). He gives himself edgier and edgier names, going from The Wronged (Neithan) to Dread-Helm (Gorthol) to Blood-Stained, son of Ill-Fate (Agarwaen, son of Úmarth) to Black Sword (Mormegil). None of these titles would be out of place in a more grimdark novel, I’ll tell you that much. And despite having killed Beleg, when he’s in Nargothrond, things are not all bad. He’s influential, he has power with Orodreth, Finduilas loves him. And then the dragon comes, in part because he convinced Orodreth to abandon secrecy, although Nargothrond would likely have been found out anyway, if we’re being fair. The dragon comes, and Turin falls under its spell, and he leaves to rescue his mother and sister (who are fine), abandoning Finduilas to her fate. He goes home, finds it changed, finds an Easterling lord and kills him, ostensibly to save his kinswoman, but he seals her fate as well, because she burns herself alive, and things are made worse for the House of Hador. He goes back, finds out Finduilas has died, but he manages to recover, and he calls himself the Master of Fate. He decides that his curse is over, except it’s not, because he marries his sister, the dragon comes back, and she kills herself when she realizes what happened. He slays Glaurung, refusing to believe the truth, and kills the one who tells him. It’s only when Mablung repeats it, that he believes it, and we know how this story ends, too. So- dark in tone, miserable, and awful. Turin is no classic hero- everything that he does goes wrong, no matter how good his intentions are. Nor is it his curse that he will do evil, the real curse is that regardless of what he does, evil will come of it. No matter what he chooses- and he chooses a lot-, bad things happen because of his agency. And agency is an important thing, as per the previous section.

He still has hope through the entire thing- important to note, because he still tries, he still wants to do some good, he does not stop trying, but in the end, he gives in to his curse, and to despair. It is, of course, important to note that Turin is not deliberately cruel, nor does he relish in the things that he’s done, or what has happened because of him. He’s not amoral, and he certainly is not a villain. So while he fits the mold of overturning the idea of the classical hero, his tale is- despite its grimdark elements, given the ending and the contents- more of a tragedy, than anything else.

Tone, Rewards, and Punishment

That’s all well and good, but I don’t think that any one of these really encompasses what grimdark is, although they do provide very good guidelines. So I’m going to go with a far more subjective definition- ie, mine-, and definitions graciously provided by folk over at the SWG. 

Grimdark fantasy is, to me, when bad things happen to good people, ostensibly because they are good, or are trying to be good and do the right thing. It is cynical, as in Roberts’ definition, but there is nihilism involved, in knowing that whatever you do, it will not end well, as in Bourke’s. For me, it’s more about the tone, about how characters are rewarded and punished in universe, and why. Are good acts punished solely because they’re good? Is the only way to survive and thrive to be wholeheartedly awful- and is this glorified? Is it rewarded as an in universe reason, that makes sense, or is it simply ‘yes, they were the worst so of course they’re going to come out on top’, with no consequences whatsoever? If they give up their humanity, is it praised as the only right decision, or is there a sense of loss surrounding it?

I will admit that the Witcher books have shaped my definition of grimdark considerably- and I would absolutely consider them grimdark, rather than GRRM’s work (and not just because we don’t know how ASOIAF will end, or what will happen. I don’t think it will have a happy ending, but I also don’t think that gory details and ultraviolent realism a grimdark story makes. But that’s a discussion for another day.) This definition is expanded by insight from the SIlmarillion Writer’s Guild server- Anoriath made the excellent point of “whether or not there’s any hope. Bad things happen. They can be explored in graphic detail. There doesn’t have to be a happy ending. The angst and awfulness can be unrelenting. But is hope part of the narrative? Even if not for yourself, then for other people after you? Or is despair and meaninglessness the only position taken by the narrative- rational or not?” Chestnut used ASOIAF and GRRM (yes! I know I said I don’t find it grimdark but the point is an important one) as an example and brought up that it has to do with “the narrative stance on human worth and meaning [...] at no point does the narrative tell us that to have done good once, have tried ad failed to do good, to have done what seemed to be good but turned out to be harmful, is worthwhile; indeed, that stance is laughable. [.... ] GRRM says that pain and suffering and evil are meaningless and negate human worth in perpetrators and victims.” They also point out that it is “fundamentally antipolitical” and “elevates cynicism and stasis over the potential for meaningful changes, however small.”

So. Does this happen in the Silm?

Again, kind of. There absolutely are characters who are punished, narratively, for doing the right thing and being good- and this is very much an in universe consequence of their actions. Fingolfin goes to fight Morgoth- and he dies. Finrod keeps his promise to Beren, goes to help, and he dies. Glorfindel fights for the refugees leaving Gondolin, he kills a Balrog- but at the last minute, he too dies. Elwing, likely thinking that her sons are dead, knowing that the ones who killed her parents are now here for her and for the Silmaril, tries to prevent them from taking it the only way she knows how- and Earendil, who journeyed West to find his parents, eventually ends up with the Silmaril (and his wife!) but they aren’t able to meet their children again (presumably until Elrond sails). But- yes, that’s shaky, so who else is there? Maglor does the right thing and casts the Silmaril away, knowing how much death it has caused, but he’s still left alone, all his brothers and his father dead, fated to either wander the shores or fade until he’s nothing but an echo on the wind. You could argue that’s selfishly motivated, though, but there are still two strong examples of this: Celebrimbor, and Manwe.

I’ll discuss Celebrimbor first, because his is the clearest example. It’s a new age, the troubles of the First Age are over (allegedly), and the last descendent of Feanor is out here, trying to crawl out from under the weight of that name. He’s rejected his father, he managed to come out the other side of the First Age, and what does he do? He creates. He decides to hell with secrecy, he decides to share his knowledge with whoever wants it, and work to make the world a better place. And it works, until Annatar comes along, until Rings are made, until he’s betrayed and the One is forged, he dies a horrible death, and another evil is unleashed. His choice to be different- to try to be better than his family- is considered as the reason he was fooled when everyone else vetoed Annatar coming to them. This is kindness, is an open hand and heart, being punished for just that.

Manwe too, is punished for his kindness, or his naivete, however you want to frame it. I know there’s many different takes on him, some much kinder than others, but this will be in the lens of how I see him. That is, as a character whose nature is to be good, to be just, to see the world in the best possible light. He is very much lawful good aligned, to say the least. So when he unchains his brother, he cannot conceive that Melkor is lying to him. The idea of this is foreign, and- why should he not believe Melkor, when he claims to have repented after so long? When it is clear that he can be put back in chains by Tulkas when needed? And, maybe more to the point, he doesn’t want Melkor to actually be evil forever, to the extent that he’s willing to overlook what any of us would consider common sense. But he lets Melkor loose, and the consequences are astounding in how they snowball.

We see this type of character over and over, someone trying to do good or remaining good/faithful in circumstances that are all against them, whether they know it or not. Celebrimbor, Turin (for different reasons), even Maedhros, at the Nirnaeth, and Tar-Miriel, in Numenor. Though importantly, none of them are mocked for their initial mistakes. It’s spoken of with regret, with foreshadowing, weary and maybe a little bitter, but there’s no gotcha moment that flips it on the reader.

And, speaking of Miriel, there’s the Akallabeth. Which is not framed as a grimdrk story (although this makes it all the more horrifying in a way, because it outright says ‘they deserved it, there is nothing wrong with everyone, even innocents drowning’), but has the elements of almost all the definitions. Might is in fact right, because it’s Pharazon’s armies that bring Sauron to heel. There’s political scheming and sacrifice and the acceleration of a slow corruption, abandoning the gods and seeking out immortality because why should the Elves have it, and not the Men? Who’s the hero of that tale, anyway? Not Tar-Miriel, who dies, and suffers as one of jirt’s nebulous female characters. Sauron? Ar-Pharazon? There are certainly more mentions of politics and imperialism here than anywhere else, given the state of Numenor at the time, although again, the same caveats apply with respect to Pharazon’s characterization. I will say that we learn more about him- and about the Men of Numenor, and why they want to live forever. There’s a sense of entitlement to it (one more fascinating when you realize that they were gifted long life because they straight up asked for it, after the War of Wrath, at least in one of the notes in the NoME), and this idea that if they want it, they can have it, all they need to do is take it. However, they don’t succeed, and this is framed as ultimately wrong, and bad, because we all know that Hubris Very Bad, and the narrative does not sympathize with Pharazon in the slightest, but condemns him. It condemns all of Numenor, in fact, because it highlights specifically the decline from the time of Elros, straight down to Ar-Pharazon, and shows their corruption. It is also fascinating that Eru appears twice to act directly- once in the Ainunindale, and another here. Once to create, and again to destroy. But, again, food for thought another time, because that’s not grimdark, although it straddles the line of nihilism without the context of the Music of the Ainur from earlier on. But in terms of tone, the Akallabeth is dark, to be sure, but there’s no mockery in it, just censure. It is a treatise on why these people deserved it, and one that ignores the horror of what actually happened,. It doesn’t relish it, not even in a karmic sense. It’s more of a warning, than a victory ode. Still, is that a surprise, given that it was in-universe written by the survivors?

And that, perhaps, is why it isn’t grimdark. There are survivors. The Faithful, the good Numenoreans, they survive, and they go on to found Gondor and Arnor and so on. Manwe does not change, because he still represents the good and justice in the world, Authority as it should be. Celebrimbor holds out and the Three remain hidden. Hope, yet again.

Conclusions

The world itself is dark, there’s no question about that, but as the narrative does not choose to focus entirely on that, it’s difficult to call the Silm truly grimdark? It would not be incorrect to say that the setting is grimdark, that events are, that bad things happen to good people, but the narrative (despite Pengolodh’s best efforts to be smug at Maeglin’s fate) does not delight in it, or try to hammer this home as a lesson. It does not say ‘don’t try to be good, don’t try to be a hero, because you’ll only ever meet a bad end and it won’t make a difference, anyway.’ No one told Finrod that, and it his end was bad, but it made a difference; no one told Glorfindel that, nor any of the Lords of Gondolin, their deaths were heroic, and tragic, and it made a difference; and certainly no one told Fingon that, but he believed, right to the end. Tolkien has written many of his characters as fundamentally good, if flawed (extremely flawed) in some cases, though their deeds end in tragedy- and though they do terrible things.

Arguably in other hands, this could be treated as grimdark. There would be much more dwelling on the Oath and what it did to the Feanorians; the three kinslayings would be more detailed- or perhaps treated much more casually, rather than having characters know that this is wrong; there would be no Silmaril for Elwing to take the Earendil, and that star would not light the skies as a very real point of hope, a literal light in the darkness. What went on in Angband would become torture porn, more like than not, especially with respect to Maedhros, Gwindor, and Maeglin- and even Hurin, if you consider it.

It is dark, both tonally and thematically, and arguably there are some elements of grimdark in it, but Tolkien’s lack of interest in detailed battles and glorification of war prevent it from going all the way there. He doesn’t relish these things; the narrative does not relish it. The Silm is a tragedy, but it doesn’t savor its tragic nature. It doesn’t point and laugh at the reader for hoping that it could be different- because the characters hope, right to the last minute. The work grieves for them, and so can we. Not all the characters are heroes, but the heroes are there- Glorfindel and Finrod are both reincarnated relatively quickly, Fingon quite literally rescues Maedhros from the heart of darkness when all hope is lost, the dragons Glaurung and Ancalagon are slain, and Morgoth and Sauron both defeated. Hope’s baked right into that narrative, baby, and the idea of estel as foolish hope, beyond any logic, is a defining trait of Tolkien’s work and the antithesis of grimdark.

--

Citations for the Grimdark Definitions and another thing that was super interesting:

The Adam Roberts definition comes from his book via Wikipedia: Roberts, Adam (2014). Get Started in: Writing Science Fiction and Fantasy. Hachette UK. p. 42. ISBN 9781444795660. I did not read the book, I just wanted the definition.

https://www.npr.org/2015/01/25/378611261/for-a-taste-of-grimdark-visit-the-land-fit-for-heroes (Genevieve Valentine’s definition)

https://www.pornokitsch.com/2015/01/new-releases-the-goblin-emperor-by-katherine-addison.html (Jared Shurin’s definition)

http://strangehorizons.com/non-fiction/reviews/the-dark-defiles-by-richard-morgan/ (Liz Bourke’s definition)

https://fozmeadows.wordpress.com/2013/03/03/on-grittiness-grimdark/ (A really good read on why grimdark often goes wrong)

I would also like to give a huge shoutout to the SWG server for providing both a great, nuanced discussion and much more information about the history of the term ‘grimdark’ as satire in Warhammer (thank you janeways!).

[lorenfangor]

I have noticed that you listed Elfangor going nothlit for Loren as one of the best OTP moments of the TAC (which I agree on). Since you are a Tolkien scholar, I'm curious yo hear whether you think that moment could be a parallel of Arwen giving up immortality to be with Aragorn. What do you think?

Short answer: actually, I think the story of Beren and Lúthien has a bit more relevance here, but you're very much on the right track

Long answer: let's talk about Tolkien, Applegate, fate, and mortality, and I'm very sorry because I'm not actually sure this makes sense now I'm done.

It's perhaps a bit of a stretch to say that the Legendarium (the collective name for The Lord of the Rings + The Silmarillion + the 12-volume History of Middle-Earth draft collection + the three Great Tales (The Children of Húrin, Beren and Lúthien, The Fall of Gondolin) + Unfinished Tales + The Nature of Middle-Earth) has a consistent theme regarding fate and love and change-as-expression-of-love, but there are four notable cases that come to mind of characters making life-altering decisions that forever change the course of their existences solely for the sake of love. Arwen, as you noted, is I think the most famous in the general public awareness, because of how front-and-center her subplot is in the Jackson films, but she's not the only one.

(this is a long post, I'm very sorry to anyone on mobile - I am including a cut and tagging as best I can.)

Before Arwen, there was Lúthien, who does get a brief shoutout in the Jackson movies but is a much more prominent legendary figure in the LotR books. Her story is actually where my mind goes before I think of Aragorn and Arwen, largely because Beren her husband and Elfangor have a significant amount in common. (Yes, if you're curious, that's probably where 'Berenson' came from, though it is also a real surname)

So what's the deal with Beren and Lúthien? In an extremely truncated summary:

Beren son of Barahir of the House of Bëor is a young man when his homeland of Dorthonion is impacted by what would later be called the Battle of Sudden Flame, which was a devastating surprise attack by the Dark Lord Morgoth. Morgoth had been besieged successfully by an ethnic group of elves called the Noldor, but he broke that leaguer and set everything on fire, including farmland and forest. His armies were too great to be fought effectively everywhere, and the humans who lived in Dorthonion were overrun.

Beren's mom Emeldir evacuated the civilian population into the fiefdom of another human House (the House of Hador), but Beren and his dad Barahir stayed behind with all the men who could fight to mount a guerilla resistance and protect the people who refused to leave. They were so good at this that Morgoth sent his lieutenant Sauron to stop them, and while Beren was away, his dad and all his allies and friends were slaughtered. He tried to hold on and keep fighting, but Sauron wouldn't stop hunting him, so he escaped Dorthonion by going over the mountains to the south and coming out finally into the realm of Doriath. Doriath was protected by the magic of a shadow goddess named Melian, who was married to Thingol, the king of another ethnic group of elves called the Sindar. Melian and Thingol have a daughter, Lúthien, who Beren meets when he wanders into her path while he's lost in the woods.

Beren and Lúthien fall deeply in love, but Thingol won't allow them to marry because he's prejudiced against humans, so he sets an impossible task as his condition for giving his blessing - he wants Beren to bring him a jewel from Morgoth's crown. Morgoth has not truly left Angband in centuries, preferring to send lieutenants and armies out instead - this is a difficult task. Beren agrees, and then Lúthien follows him against her parents' wishes. The pair of them have a lot of dangerous adventures, but ultimately succeed, even though this quest causes Beren to lose first his hand and then his life. Lúthien, distraught and furious, goes to the god of death and demands he give her back her man because it's unfair, and manages to convince him through an Orpheus-style sad girl anthem to give love a chance. They're allowed another try at life, on the condition that Lúthien abandon her inhuman ancestry and live as a mortal woman; they marry, run off to the woods, have a son, and presumably grow old together and die, having the closest thing anyone in the First Age does to a happy ending.

The reason I say Elfangor reminds me more of this story is because while Aragorn and Arwen definitely have a romance marked and shaped by war, it's Beren and Lúthien who meet unexpectedly in the midst of it, and who have adventures together that challenge evil on a cosmic, universe-changing level. Beren, like Elfangor, is running from war and trauma that has robbed him of a normal life and a normal relationship with his family; Lúthien, like Elfangor, is determined to succeed, is good at fighting bad guys, and has a knack for saving her lover from being captured. There's even an element of 'morphing' and shape-changing in their story - Lúthien uses magic to disguise herself and Beren as a vampire and a werewolf respectively when they sneak into Morgoth's fortress.

Of course, unlike Aragorn and Arwen and Beren and Lúthien, Elfangor and Loren don't get a happy ending. Elfangor has to choose between the woman he loves and the safety of his people - he's forced by circumstances beyond his control to go to war in the name of defending the world as he knows it against a dark and dangerous threat. Theirs is a story of tragedy, of being separated by fates that weren't ever supposed to intertwine. And this, too, has parallels in a romance from the Legendarium.

KAA has this tendency to basically use Animorphs to give tragic romances from Tolkien happy endings - Alloran is basically Húrin Thalion, right down to his wife and two children kept apart from him thanks to captivity and enslavement, and being cursed to see and hear without being able to impact what it is he bears witness too, and he gets to go home to Jahar - but Elfangor/Loren is interesting because this concept of inherent separation puts them in the same category as Andreth and Aegnor, a very minor couple from the Silmarillion.

Like Beren and Lúthien, one is an elf and one is a human, but in this case the man is the elf and the woman is mortal. Like Elfangor and Loren, they don't get to end their lives together. Aegnor breaks up with Andreth when he goes back to war, and dies in the Battle of Sudden Flame, and their fates are forever severed because they're different species. They're going to go to different afterlifes, they're not even going to get to be united in death. And this isn't something either of them wanted, and it leaves Andreth devastated, though it also gives us some of the rawest fucking lines in all of Tolkien's works about the nature of love and grief and hope.

The thing about Elfangor/Loren that's a happier improvement, honestly, is that Elfangor is an upright, morally upstanding guy who does good and earnest things, and Aegnor is a bit of a shit who dumps his long-term girlfriend without explaining himself, gives her no answers, and leaves his older brother to try and fix the mess he made at somebody else's New Year's Eve party (no, really, Andreth and her ex-brother-in-law are hanging out at a completely different guy's house and while everyone else at the party is presumably getting drunk and having a good time they're having a philosophical debate about the fundamental differences between the souls of their respective species and what it means to have hope and also how Aegnor is an immature jackass). If anything, Aegnor's negative qualities get passed on to the Ellimist, who's exactly as much of a whiny teenager as this particular elf ever was.

so the tl;dr is that yes, I think Elfangor becoming human for Loren was a parallel to elves becoming mortal for those they love, but I also kind of think there's more going on there.

[easterlingwanderer]

Stories in the Dark

I don’t remember arriving at the Dark Fortress. I remember the Day of Giving. And I remember *being* here. And I remember the stories…

Voices in the reddish darkness, gruff and guttural as the language that reverberates into the corridors of stones. Scent of tallow candles and unwashed bodies and the faint smell of coal. Small pebbles under my feet. I walk silently in the corridor, sitting just behind the bend, hidden by a spike of rock and I listen, my knees under my chin, my skin dark against the darkness.

“Once, we were mighty. Yes, the mightiest of all. So powerful we were, so strong, that That One feared us, our power, and our strength. He spoke to his servants and said "We cannot have them so powerful, so mighty, because they may come and take stuff that is only for my Beloved Firsts." and his Servants all agreed with him because they were puny and weak. And That One then smiled and said. "I know what I'll do. Yes I do. I'll make their time on the World small, so they can't grow in power, and the most beautiful of them I'll change to be hideous so they'll know I, One, am the Strongest of All". And so it was. And so it was, and so now the Orcs are as we are and both us and Man can't live forever as the Other Ones.”

"But Gazog, if we were so powerful why couldn't we stop it?"

Another voice, of the same kind, but softer, not yet scarred. I look unseeing in front of me.

"Because it was done by treachery. We were faithful to That One you see. We didn't expect it, not then."

"Tell us how the Master came to save us!" A third voice, piping and rasping at once. I look at the ceiling, rough grey stone blackened by soot and wait.

"Ah... The Master. The One Lord. You see, once That One had took our power and beauty and strength from us, we were slowly dying in great pain, all of us men and women and children, Orcs and Men alike. But the Master came, and he healed us as much as possible and promised us that once we are victorious we shall be as we were. One day."

"One day."

As they chant the words, I stand up and get back down the corridor, one hand slightly on the wall. I feel a small spider scuttling away, I snatch it and chew it, the feeling of many tiny legs tickling my lips.

Behind me, the old Orc is telling another tale. I do not stop to listen.

"...And then the Other Powers looked at us, we who were beautiful and strong and mighty, and feared for their Favourites. Truly, they spoke among themselves, these Children of Melkor are too strong. What if their children grow in power beyond our Beloved? Our creatures, which we nurtured and cared for? So they concocted a plan, to destroy us all. But our Creator and Master heard them, and fought them all for us. But even if he was the most powerful they were many, and as such, while they did not succeed in killing us all, Tjar and Mew managed to steal the immortality our Master has given us. And so we and our Master still fight the Beloved of the Other Powers and their Servants. For they fear us, once we come to our full power."

The ceiling is polished metal, still blackened by the soot that coated everything. The voice is mellower, the language less sharp, less gurgling. I stand at the window, now, looking inside the barrack where the old, gnarled Easterling speaks to the swarthy children, their hair black as their black eyes as their bodies, darkened by coal dust. The light inside the building is almost painful, a fire and several candles lit to show the stark place, the several small pallets on the ground, and the silhouette of the narrator casting a shadow on the young pupils. The air smells like fire and metal and coal, and like the scent of the tanned leather the Easterlings wear.

I sit under the windows, my legs in front of me and watched the clouded sky above. I do not go to them, even if I could.

I close my eyes as the first oily drops hit me, but kept my face tilted upward. Rain comes, and hail, and they hit me on my legs and face and shoulders, drowning away the voice of the teller of stories. I listen to the sound of rain upon the rock, of ice splitting in endless shards all around me. It smells like acid rain and sharp ice.

It is a long time before I stand up to leave, to go gathering lichen or moss or mushroom.

But I do not listen to more tales.

[aregebidan]

the nice one

Or: A small (1.6k) pile of angst featuring a darker take on the two eldest Feanorians, based on the popular fanon that Maglor is only known as “nice” because he’s good at propaganda and my own Discord Maglor headcanon.

tw: mentions of blood and torture

“Maglor?”

“Hmm?” he says, never taking his eyes off the worn parchment. The ink has smudged, the corners of the scroll damp and ragged from being carried through the battle, but the writing has somehow managed to survive both the clash of blades and the fell songs of the golden one. Now, safe in Himring, he must copy it down before some other danger strikes the precious notes. 

The act also serves to calm him, drawing him into the familiar scratching rhythm of quill and ink, all delicate lines and quiet chords in the air that speak of peace safety honor. He is loath to separate himself from it, this piece of home, and so he does not make any further reply until his brother calls for him again: “Maglor.”

He should have noticed straight away: the way Maedhros stopped just outside the threshold of his new chamber instead of coming in, his awkward stance and slight shuffling, the fact that he called him by his Sindarin name instead of Kano or brother.

But it is past midnight, and they are both exhausted by the loss of the Gap, so he expects nothing out of the ordinary when he turns around and gives Maedhros his full attention. “What is it?”

Maedhros shifts, again, and he finally realizes something is wrong and puts down his quill. “Are they attacking us again?” 

“No...” 

“Well, then.” Maglor pitches his voice lower, tries to speak as clearly as possible. He hasn’t used his “King-Regent voice,” as the Ambarussa call it, in years, but he senses Maedhros needs someone else to be responsible now. “Tell me what you need me for.” 

His brother fairly squirms. The only candle in the room flashes in Maedhros’ eyes, making him flinch, and Maglor reaches over to put it out, pulling back his hair with the other hand. Having it loose in the dark would bring back memories of... well. Suffice it to say it is not an option, especially on the bad days.

“We took some-” Maedhros’ jaw clenches, seemingly involuntarily. Maglor watches, concerned but strangely fascinated with this rare loss of control. For a moment he just looks like Maitimo-Nelyo again, frustrated with his brothers’ antics and able to express it. 

That is, until the next words make it past his throat. “We took several of the orcs captive. I need you to make them talk.” 

Maglor stills and glances up at his brother again, a tall shadow against the well-lit corridor outside. His brow is twisted in an emotion none would ever expect to see on a kinslayer, and it makes him look young again. Pity.

Make them talk. The others would not put it this way: they would say break them, or question them, or when Maedhros was away break them in, like a new weapon. But break him and question him further, then is what Thauron said in the pits of Angband, as far as Maglor could tell from his brother’s feverish sleep-talk in those dreadful few months after his rescue. 

Maedhros, he realizes with a jolt, still considers himself to be in danger of becoming like his captors. The mental image slithers in- Maedhros standing over the orc prisoners, comparing himself to them, seeing some warped reflection of his stupid, beautiful self in them, avoiding the best decisions for their sake- and he is reaching for his swords before he knows it, pausing only at the stricken look on his brother’s face. 

“Kano.” 

Ah, it’s Kano now, is it, now that you have been reminded of what I am. He pulls back the words- even he has enough sense to keep that particular thought in his head- and smooths down his tunic as calmly as possible, if only to stop making fists. 

“You may question them yourself, brother,” he says curtly. “You captured them, therefore they will fear you the more.”

Maedhros lets out a sudden, harsh laugh and takes a few more steps into the chamber. There you are, son of Fëanor. I have missed you. “You of all people should know that can easily be remedied.”

It hurts, how eager his heart becomes at these words. He shoves any more treacherous thoughts aside and lets some of this indignation into his next words, punctuating them with the kind of wild gesture that he thought he had left behind with the rest of his adolescence. “It is not my job to torture these prisoners at your beck and call-”

“So you admit it is torture?” Maedhros’ voice rises. “If you knew what this means for me, why in Arda would you want-”

“You have done plenty worse!” 

“Nothing is worse to me.” 

“They are the Dark One’s servants, not his foes- they are not as you are! I am trying to help you understand that, Nelyo-”

“And I,” Maedhros snaps, “am trying to do you a favor.”

Maglor freezes mid-gesture. Moonlight streams in through the window, showing the satisfaction and shame mingled on his brother’s face, and he has the absurd urge to slam the door shut, as if someone could be listening in on them at this hour. 

“You go too far,” he whispers, hearing the terror in his own voice. It has been centuries since they agreed never to speak of this again; is Maedhros so sympathetic to his captives that he is ready to break his word to his own brother?

“I go this far because I am concerned for you, because you are not the only one who worries,” Maedhros retorts. “I have heard the tales of your fight with the golden beast.”

Maglor spits out a curse and ducks his head; the weight of Maedhros’ most disappointed stare is too much for any single elf to bear, oath-bound and insane or no. “They were not meant to tell you…” 

“Your people spoke of darkness and sounds of death.” Maedhros advances in small, careful steps, aiming his words like the Ambarussa aim their arrows. “How long will it be until your veneer breaks again, brother? How many have you convinced that your false face is your true self, now? The kind one, the nice one, the soft one, the only one here with a conscience. What would they say if they could see you for yourself?”

Maglor finds that his eyes are suddenly stinging. “I do have a conscience.”

“And it only comes out at the worst possible moments.” The shadow of Nelyo comes into Maedhros’ face again as he reaches out to push back Maglor’s hair with his left hand, loving and brutally honest in equal measure. “I do not know much of what happened to you at Alqualondë, but I know that it pains you to keep it locked in after a battle. I do not want to see you hurt, brother. I cannot say that is the only reason I avoided speaking to the prisoners, but it is by far the most important.”

Ah, so they are getting to the heart of the matter now. Alqualondë. 

Alqualondë, where he had used his music as a weapon for the first time, half mad with the ease with which his voice flowed, his darkest thoughts translating perfectly into the realm of sound. Alqualondë, where the bodies were piled high and the crimson color of the blood on his swords had matched the blood from his own throat, dry and torn up by the first battle-song he had ever dared bring to life. 

They had all died and come back in some way during that first battle, but something else had come back with Makalaurë, something cruel and sharp-toothed and hungry that Maedhros couldn’t stand to come near in these first terrible months after Angamandi. 

The Discord, he had called it, the song of the enemy. The very essence of him, carried on his own voice.

And Maglor, deep in denial, had built up his reputation, only to ruin it by facing the golden one.

He has to fight to keep himself in the present; the memories have grown too strong now, hissing in his ears, burrowing into the cracks in his mind. “You are trying to distract me.” 

His brother’s face is unflinchingly understanding, as frightened by their many hard truths as the Calacirya may be by a summer wind. “I am trying to help.” 

It is easy, so easy to yield when he puts it that way. Maglor inhales slowly and feels the walls of his mind come down, letting the beat of fire-blood-ruin and the cold notes of his swords wash away all other thoughts like waves smoothing out the sand of a beach. The moon has hidden itself again; he looks up from the floor and absently notes that his hands have grown paler, and the ache in his throat has disappeared. 

“We will speak of this again soon, brother.”

Maedhros tenses at the sound of his real voice, and a last pang of guilt lodges in his heart before it is swept away again. His brother knew that was coming; he is not to blame for his fear. 

The prisoners’ fear, on the other hand… 

He sighs, thrilled and embarrassed at himself in equal parts, and takes up one of his swords, letting the tip of the blade scrape against the floor as he heads out. “Tell your guards to go to sleep. You don’t need them anymore.”

His brother calls him again, softly, but he refuses to bring Lady Nerdanel into this mess by answering to the name she gave to her son; instead he merely raises his free hand and turns a corner, putting Maedhros and the ink and parchment behind him. 

If anything, he means to find out what they call the beast from the Gap. Perhaps he can repay him for his people’s pain if they should ever cross paths again.

[lemurious]

Fic writing ask game

Thank you very much to @crownlessliestheking for tagging me!

how many works do you have on AO3?

37 currently, two of which are written anonymously :)

what’s your total AO3 word count?

  102,823. I only started in June 2020, so this is somewhat reasonable for a year. 

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

The overwhelming majority of my fics are for Tolkien fandom, mostly the Silmarillion, with some Hobbit and LOTR thrown in. The others are: Seanan McGuire’s Wayward Children, and of all things, Paradise Lost (rather John Milton RPF), Måneskin / rock music RPF (those are the two anonymous works) and some poetry loosely connected to Firefly, Ray Bradbury’s The Martian Chronicles and Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere. I clearly need to branch out!

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Just As They Were - my most popular fic by far, and one of the darkest (and probably the best) I have ever written. A take on disability and why the Elves are always described as perfectly beautiful. 

2. A Few Trusty Lads - my longest fic and absolutely the dearest to my heart. What did the Orcs do after the end of the Lord of the Rings? 

3. Eldalindalë in D minor, for well-tempered Eldar - my best crack fic. On the relationship between Elves and musical instruments...and why Fingon lugged his harp to Thangorodrim, among other ideas. 

4. Beyond Measure - this one is inexplicably popular, because I actually consider it one of my least interesting. Rather fluffy Bagginshield written for a Happy Hobbit Holiday prompt, though still with sympathetic Orcs.

5. Can You Hear Me Singing? - a short fic of the type that I write the most. A dark take on Maglor as Tom Bombadil...and a new interpretation of Goldberry. 

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Always! Comments are my life blood and give me incredible amount of joy. 

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I am the Queen of Dark and Angsty Fics, so it is hard to choose. My personal pick would be a fic that I ended up making a chapter in a multi-chapter collection of only vaguely related ficlets, and it really should have been posted on its own instead - Now We Are Become Death, Eönwë after the War of Wrath. 

do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

My entire Only A Fairy Tale series of ficlets is crossovers between Middle earth and fairy tales / European history. My favorite, and the craziest one, is Better Than Serve in Heaven,  a crossover with Paradise Lost, or rather, the RPF of John Milton writing it, where Sauron finds a job as Milton’s secretary. 

have you ever received hate on a fic?

No - and I am very glad about that, because it would really hurt. 

do you write smut? if so what kind?

No - I seem to be conditionally incapable of writing smut. I enjoy reading it perfectly fine, but I am very asexual and just can’t come up with words to describe sex that would not sound like a medical treatise. 

have you ever had a fic stolen?

Fortunately, no. 

have you ever had a fic translated?

No, though that would be wonderful. 

have you ever co-written a fic before?

In a way, my Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang fic will be co-created with an artist who created the wonderful artwork based on which I wrote the fic. 

what’s your all time favorite ship?

Angbang, forever and ever, through all the ages of Arda and beyond. Melkor/Mairon is the one ship that is canon through all my Silmarillion works. 

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Weirdly, I don’t have many WIPs beyond vague notes. I still hope to finish my Númenorean submarines fic (Annatar invades Valinor under water!) and I can’t seem to _start_ a dark!Galadriel fic despite my head bursting with headcanons. 

what are your writing strengths?

Twisted takes on canon - “making all the hair stand on end” as one of my readers very kindly noted in one of my favorite comments. Short, dark, mildly horrifying, but often hopeful one-shots. Technology - I can and have waxed poetic about rockets in the middle of a Silmarillion fic! :) 

what are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptions. I am beginning to suspect I have aphantasia, because I can’t really imagine what anyone looks like or what they are wearing, either in fic or in real life. So I tend to omit even the most basic (and very necessary) descriptions. 

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I am happy to read it but I haven’t done it myself - to be fair, because it has never occurred to me until reading this question.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

Silmarillion, and that was only a year ago! I am a very new fic writer :). 

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

My personal favorite is  A Few Trusty Lads - it was just so much fun to write my poor hapless Orcs. However, the one I am the most _proud_ of is With My Eyes You Shall See - a different take on Húrin in Angband. 

I want to see everyone’s answers, so please, consider yourself tagged if you haven’t been yet - @nocompromise-noregrets @stormwarnings @foxindarkness @chrissystriped @admirablemonster - only if you want to and haven’t done this game yet

[outofangband]

Maybe torture for Maedhros?

Oh anon, could I ever turn this down

From this horror prompt list I made!

Angband World Building and Aftermath of Captivity Masterlist

CW: torture obviously, some gore, enforced nudity

Feel free to skip over if you’re not comfortable with this stuff

It burns. A sizzling pain pressed into the small of his back and emanating heat throughout his entire lower body. He lifts his head and lets it fall with as much force as he can manage to the cold ground beneath him, anything to reach nearer to oblivion. The order of the being watching is garbled but it makes the guards who hold him down adjust their grip. One digs sharp claws into his skin, tearing his shoulder and he doesn’t feel it for the burning

Through watering eyes, Maitimo sees the iron that had maimed him. It is now a dull red, deceptively mundane though it still smoked. He wondered if there were not bits of his own flesh seared onto it. His own wound was cauterized by the very implement that had made it, his blood thin and dried around the brand. He still does not know quite what it is. He does not know how he could have forgotten the pain for this is not the first time that iron has been pressed into his skin nor will it be the last

Indeed, the one who had made the mark runs long nailed fingers down the first brand, on his left side just above his hip.

“Cleanly healed,” they give a self satisfied nod that makes Maitimo snarl

…

The healing is more agonizing than the initial injury, Maitimo thinks as his flesh is cut away from the wound. The cutting does not hurt, the area far too deeply affected by the poison on the original blade. No, it was the cleaning that had made him lose his private battle and scream as a cloth was soaked in a dark green liquid and carefully applied in large quantities to the injury.

The healer is not a sympathetic one. Maitimo has known a few of those assigned to patch up and fix the slaves when any number of circumstances brought them out of the acceptable realm of suffering and towards a life threatening injury. There were both orcs and Eldar healers, the latter of course slaves themselves though they were regarded with a respect never given to other prisoners who had been afforded by the enemy such privilege or responsibilities

The healer who tended to him could have been orc or elda. Maitimo could not tell with his blurred vision and the blurred lines between the two in many areas of the fortress. They do not speak to him as they scrub the area, finally bandaging it in worn but clean fabric. His arm feels heavy and numb in a way that makes him sick, as though he has lost a great deal of blood. Surely he has although not recently; the wound festered and blackened too much to allow much blood loss soon after the initial cut.

Finally, a burning, peppery liquid is tilted without warning down his throat. He is still so thirsty and struggled to keep it down. Dispassionate, the healer holds his head by his hair to keep him still.

…

The chill of the Nethermost Hall is especially pronounced today. Maitimo stands naked, his bare feet near aching from the cold both around and beneath him. Humiliation at his state of undress gives way to a genuine fear as he shivers. The Moringotto unsurprisingly seems unaffected by this change he himself had most certainly wrought.

There is a dreadful silence. The room appears untouched to the eyes of Maitimo save that awful cold.

“Quite the tale I have been told, elfling.” The voice speaks smoothly but any utterance by the Vala is a rumbling, tumultuous thing Maitimo feels in his bones; the unchecked energy of the warped form and the power to make words be by will alone.

He cannot respond. His voice is lost in the vastness of the room and his throat is raw from the chill. Knowing any attempt would lead only to the most pathetic of noises, he remains silence. There is no dignity standing bare in the citadel of the enemy so he settles for feigning unaffected, a more plausible lie if not an easier one.

“I warned thee, little one, of what would happen should my attention be drawn to another foolish attempt.” The ancient voice is deceptively calm now.

There is a ringing in his ears. Cold stings at his fingers but rather than numb and pale, Maitimo sees blood drip steadily from them as though the bite of the chill has taken physical form

“Kneel before me and thou shalt receive mercy.”

Maitimo smiles. The dry skin of his lips tears and he tastes copper.

[ameliarating]

top five scenes from the silmarillion?

And as they watched, upon the mound there came forth two slender shoots; and silence was over all the world in that hour, nor was there any other sound save the chanting of Yavanna. Under her song the saplings grew and became fair and tall, and came to flower; and thus there awoke in the world the Two Trees of Valinor...The one had leaves of dark green that beneath were as shining silver, and from each of his countless flowers a dew of silver light was ever falling, and the earth beneath was dappled with the shadows of his fluttering leaves. The other bore leaves of a young green like the new-opened beech; their edges were of glittering gold. Flowers swung upon her branches in clusters of yellow flame, formed each to a glowing horn that spilled a golden rain upon the ground; and from the blossom of that tree there came forth warmth and a great light...In seven hours the glory of each tree waxed to full and waned again to naught; and each awoke once more to life an hour before the other ceased to shine. Thus in Valinor twice every day came a gentle hour of softer light when both trees were faint and their gold and silver beams were mingled.

‘I marvel at you, son of Eärwen,’ said Thingol, ‘that you would come to the board of your kinsman thus red-handed from the slaying of your mother’s kin, and yet say naught in defense nor yet seek any pardon!’Then Finrod was greatly troubled, but he was silent, for he could not defend himself, save by bringing charges against the other princes of the Noldor; and that he was loath to do before Thingol. But in Angrod’s heart the memory of the words of Caranthir welled up again in bitterness***, and he cried: Lord, I know not what lies you have heard, nor whence; but we came not red handed. Guiltless we  came forth, save maybe of folly,  to listen to the words of fell Fëanor, and become as if  besotted with wine, and as briefly. No evil did we do on our road, but suffered ourselves great wrong; and forgave it. For this we are named tale-bearers to you and treasonable to the Noldor: untruly as you know, for we have of our loyalty been silent before you, and thus earned your anger. But now these charges are no longer to be borne, and the truth you shall know.’Then Angrod spoke bitterly against the sons of Fëanor, telling of the blood at Alqualondë, and the Doom of Mandos, and the burning of the ships at Losgar. And he cried: ‘Wherefore should we that endured the Grinding Ice bear the name of Kinslayers and traitors?’‘Yet the shadow of Mandos lies on you also,’ said Melian.

Aredhel Ar-Feiniel, the White Lady of the Noldor, daughter of Fingolfin dwelled in Nevrast with Turong her brother and she went with him to the Hidden Kingdom. But she wearied of the guarded city of Gondolin, desiring ever the longer the more to ride again in the wide lands and to walk in the forests, as it had been her wont in Valinor;... and she spoke to Turon and asked leave to depart. Turgon was loath to grant this, and long denied her, but at last he yielded, saying: ‘Go then, if you will, though it is against my wisdom, and I forebode that ill will come of it both to you and to me. But you shall go only to seek Fingon, our brother; and those that I send with you shall return hither to Gondolin as swiftly as they may.’But Aredhel said: ‘I am your sister and not your servant and beyond your bounds I will go as seems good to me. And if you begrudge me an escort then I will go alone.’Then Turgon answered: ‘I grudge you nothing that I have...’

Thus Beren came before King Finrod Felagund; and Felagund knew him, needing no ring to remind him of the kin of Bëor and of Barahir. Behind closed doors they sat, and Beren told of the death of Barahir, and of all that had befallen him in Doriath; and he wept, recalling Lúthien and their joy together. But Felagund heard his tale in wonder and disquiet; and he knew that the oath he had sworn was come upon him for his death, as long before he had foretold to Galadriel. He spoke then to Beren in heaviness of heart. ‘It is plain that Thingol desires your death; but it seems that this doom goes beyond his purpose, and that the Oath of Fëanor is at work. For the the Silmarils are cursed with an oath of hatred... And now Celegorm and Curufin are dwelling in my halls; and though I, Finarfin’s son am King, they have won a strong power in the realm, and lead many of their own people. They have shown friendship to me in every need, but I fear that they will show neiher love nor mercy to you, if your quest be told. Yet my own oath holds; and thus we are all ensnared.’Then King Felagund spoke before his people, recalling the deeds of Barahir, and his vow, and he declared that it was laid upon him to aid the son of Barahir in his need, and he sought the help of his chieftains. Then Celegorm arose amid the throng, and drawing his sword he cried: ‘Be he friend or foe, whether demon or Morgoth, or Elf, or child of Men, or any other living thing in Arda, neither law, nor love, nor league of hell, nor miht of the Valar, nor any power of wizardry, shall defend him from the pursuit of Fëanor’s sons, if he ake or find a Silmaril and keep it. For the Silmarils we alone claim, until the world ends.’Many other words he spoke, as potent as were long before in Tirion the words of his father that first inflamed the Noldor to rebellion. And after Celegorm Curufin spoke, more softly but with no less power, conjurng in the minds of the Elves a vision of war and the ruin of Nargothrond...And now they murmured that Finarfin’s son was not as a Vala to command him, and they turned their faces from him...And Felagund seeing that he was forsaken took from his head the silver crown of Nargtothrond and cast it as his feet saying: ‘Your oaths of faith to me you may break, but I must hold my bond.”... There were ten that stood by him; and the chief of them, who was named Edrahil, stooping lifted the crown and asked that it be given to a steward until Felagund’s return. ‘For you remain my king, and theirs,’ he said, ‘whatever betide.Then Felagund gave his crown of Nargothrond to Orodreth his brother to govern in his stead; and Celegorm and Curufin said nothing, but they smiled and went from the halls.

Thus befell the contest of Sauron and Felagund which is renowned. For Felagund strove with Sauron in songs of power, and the power of the King was very great; but Sauron had the mastery, as is told in the Lay of Leithian:He chanted a song of wizardry,Of piercing, opening, of treachery,Revealing, uncovering, betraying.Then sudden Felagund there swaying,Sang in answer a song of staying,Resisting, battling against power,Of secrets kept, strength like a tower,And trust unbroken, freedom, escape;Of changing and of shifting shape,Of snares eluded, broken traps,The prison opening, the chain that snaps.Backwards and forwards swayed their song.Reeling and foundering, as ever more strongThe chanting swelled, Felagund fought,Adn all the magic and might he broughtOf Elvenesse into his words.Softly in the gloom they heard the birdsSinging afar in Nargothrond, The sighing of the SEa beyond,Beyond the western world, on sand,On sand of pearls in Elvenland.Then the gloom gathered; darkness growingIn Valinor, the red blood flowingBeside the Sea, where the Noldor slewThe Foamriders, and stealing drewTheir white ships with their white sailsFrom lamplit haven. The wind wails,The wolf howls. The ravens flee.The ice mutters in the mouths of the Sea.The captives sad in angband mourn.Thunder rumbles, the fires burn — And Finrod fell before the throne.

***Honorable mention goes to the best “your mom” diss in all of the Legendarium:

But Caranthir, who loved not the sons of Finarfin, and was the harshest of the brothers and the most quick to anger, cried aloud: ‘Yea more! Let not the sons of Finarfin run hither and thither with their tales to this Dark Elf in his caves! Who made them our spokesmen to deal with him? And though they come indeed to Beleriand, let them not so swiftly forget that their father is a lord of the Noldor, though their mother be of other kin.’Then Angrod was wrathful and went forth from the council.

[mxmpanshipperaf]

Tell me a scary story

Better late than never! Beleg and Turin’s Halloween Especial

It was the late hours of the night, nothing but darkness about them. The crisp cold air was not lit by the moon nor the stars, a minute fire the only source of light and warmth for Turin.

Well, almost the only one.

Beleg dropped another few dry branches into the fire and turned his head slightly to the side to listen, attentive to any possible dangers on their scouting area. They had stopped briefly for Turin to regain some body heat on the cold autumn night, but would soon need to keep going. Just not just yet.

An owl hooted in the distance and the young man realized with a shiver that he was absolutely bored out of his mind. “Beleg, tell me a story?”

Silver grey eyes glance far off into the darkness before falling tenderly on his lover, “What kind of story do you fancy?” After knowing him for so long, Beleg had already ran out of his best epic battle stories, haunting stories and even the few love stories he was familiar with. Yet Turin would always regard any tale from him as if it were a brand new adventure just shared to the world. It was adorable to see such wonder on the boy’s face, in Beleg’s opinion.

“Tell me something frightful. Hopefully the scare will keep me awake longer than a few hours.” Turin spoke whilst moving to sit against the archer’s broad chest, curling to fit as best as he could on the other’s lap.

“I told you yesterday that you should had rested instead of messing around” Beleg tsked, though he himself had some fault in that ‘messing around’. “Something frightful, hu? Let me think…”

After a few seconds of comfortable silence in which Turin was pretty sure he felt asleep, Beleg took a deep breath and began speaking.

“Once there was a mighty elven prince, eldest of his House, known by all his kind for his sharp intellect and even sharper skills in battle. He had accomplished many a great feat on the long war against Angband, and he was respected and feared for that. However he was a proud Lord and had a temper comparable to the fieriest of the elves.

“And he was cursed.

“Being well aware of this, the prince wanted neither dispute nor glory and retired to the mountains seeking the calm of the cold. There he dwelled in solitude for a long time, only sharing war news and strategies with the rest of the world. A staled warrior, his was curse slowly eating him away with the anguish of an unfulfilled oath.

“Concerned for him, one of the prince’s brothers recurred to a desperate attempt: to bring him his lover, in the uttermost secrecy.

“They had grown together in the golden fields beyond the sea, fallen in love in a time of peace and happiness long gone. And though they held for each other a love as pure and bright as starlight, alas, it was forbidden for they were close in kin and a centuries long feud divided both sides of their family.

“Hearing of his love’s state, this other elf’s heart bled for him, and he departed alone in the dead of night, away from his family, his people and his responsibilities. For the prince’s lover was also his king.”

Turin audibly gasped, absolutely entailed in the story. Beleg couldn’t stiff a chuckle.

“Upon sight of each other, the dim flame of their love sparked right back into a raging blaze, and it was as if the years had not passed for either of them since their sweetheart days. They met in secret often after that. His people never knew who the king had married, and he was unfazed by the rumors and gossip. And for a time, the prince was overjoyed.

“But the cursed, cursed stay, and it was his doom for everything he built with good heart to be crumbled to pieces by his own hand.

“The prince wanted to be rid of his cursed to live out his life free to be with his love, and so he put to work and scheme and negotiate the greatest alliance ever made. All the free peoples were called. A great campaign began, to wipe evil of this lands once and for all. The battle to end all wars.”

At this, Beleg hesitated. No doubt Turin had already recognized which battle he talked about from the tales his own mother or his father’s friends had told him as a child. Perhaps he should have though better before picking this particular story.

Noticing the prolonged silence, Turin squeezed Beleg’s arm tied around his waist. “I want to know what else happened”

Beleg had the feeling he didn’t mean only in regards of the prince’s story, but that was to be reserved for a later night.

“Though they wanted to, the lovers could not fight side by side, each in charge of their own legions. So the king set out first and the prince would meet him from the rear, as a secret ambush to their enemy. But he was betrayed, and their careful plans turned south. The lovers were sundered, on both ends of a blood bath, with no way to reach each other.

“Angbang’s wrath was upon us then like it had never been before. The battle was bloody and you could breathe the filth in the air. And the screams….

“Maedhros called for the king since the moment he arrived at the battlefield. Fingon tried to answer as best as he could, guiding him to where he was as they both cut through the fell forces.

“And then he didn’t answer anymore.

“In all my years of living, seldom have I seen as much pain and sorrow as in that day. Nor have I heard mountain shattering screams like Maedhros’ when he found the King’s shattered body.”

Beleg’s eyes had turned distance as he spoke of the Nírnaeth Arnoediad, too lost in the memories to notice he had revealed the real protagonists or that he had begun speaking from Beleg’s own point of view. That was what Turin really loved about his lover’s tales. The way the archer would immerse fully in the story and forget himself. It was beautiful to see.

“They say he took it with him, and never put him to rest. That he mourned the king in his bed even as the flesh rotted away. And after that, when there was nothing left but bones. They say that he still keeps the king’s skull, calls it lover over and over, caressing it as the mad prince waits for an answer.”

Finishing his lot, Beleg’s silver pools turned to Turin, who raised a brow.

“Is that all?” He inquired, “That was hardly a terrifying tale. More like a tragedy, my love.”

Beleg blinked “Perhaps. But to be sundered from you in that way…” He cupped Turin’s cheek with one hand, brushing the bangs off his forehead with the other. His fingers trembled. “…It frightens me more than anything in the world.”

[warrioreowynofrohan]

The Leithian Reread - Canto XXII (The Arrival at Angband)

I’ve had some trouble thinking of what to say about this one.

It starts out with an epic account of the Duel of Fingolfin and Morgoth. One of the great things about the poetic Leithian is that, because of the way Tolkien ties the story together with other related events, it gives us a pietic version of quite a bit of the other parts of The Silmarillion: we have the meeting of Thingol and Melian (Canto III), the Oath (Canto VI), Fingon’s rescue of Maedhros (Canto VI), The Battle of Sudden Flame (Cantos VI and XI), Barahir and his men’s rescue of Finrod (Canto VI) and, here in Canto XXI, the Duel of Fingolfin and Morgoth.

In overmastering wrath and hate

desperate he smote upon that gate,

the Gnomish king, there standing lone,

while endless fortresses of stone

engulfed the thin clear ringing keen

of silver horn on baldric green.

His hopeless challenge dauntless cried

Fingolfin there: “Come, open wide,

dark king, your ghastly brazen doors!

Come forth, whom earth and heaven abhors!

Come forth, O monstrous craven lord,

and fight with thine own hand and sword,

thou wielder of hosts of banded thralls,

thou tyrant leagured with strong walls,

thou foe of Gods and Elvish race!

I wait thee here. Come! Show thy face!”

This is what I love about epic poetry - while the sequence in The Silmarillion is excellent, it’s just so much more evocative and powerful here, with the cadence and the use of repeated sounds (there’s something about “thin clear ringing keen” that strikes me as a particularly good combination of words,), and expanded beyond its length in the prose version. (One piece of trivia is the statement that Thorondor’s wingspan is thirty fathoms wide - with a fathom being 6 feet, that comes to a 180-foot wingspan.)

I can’t quote the entire thing here, but it’s very, very good. And it’s very appropriate to include here in the Lay, not just because Beren and Lúthien are at the same place where the battle occurred, but because Fingolfin and Lúthien are the only elves to directly take on Morgoth. Fingolfin, though he loses, is the only elf to deal Morgoth lasting physical harm; Lúthien is the only elf to defeat Morgoth. And there’s also a direct and, I think, intentional contrast in what drives them; Fingolfin, as quoted above, is driven by “wrath and hate”; his deed is greatly impressive, but it does not have any direct benefit to others. Lúthien is driven by love of Beren; Morgoth himself is an obstacle, but very much secondary to her goals. And the Silmaril that she and Beren obtain is what ultimately leads to Eärendil’s journey and Morgoth’s final defeat, and endures as a symbol of hope down through the ages.

The next part of the canto, regarding Carcharoth, does not make a lot of chronological sense in my opinion. In the Silmarillion, it makes more sense because the timeline is left more vague: “Morgoth recalled the doom of Huan” and put power into an existing werewolf. But the Leithian has this happening only after Lúthien and Huan’s defeat of Sauron at Tol-in-Gaurhoth, which is only a matter of months - a very short time to become the largest and deadliest wolf of all time. But Carcharoth is supernatural, so he doesn’t need to follow usual growth patterns. (Incidentally, we have another few lines here on the nature of werewolves that supports the idea of them being minor Maiar inhabiting wolf-bodies: Fierce hunger-haunted packs he had / that in wolvish form and flesh were clad, / but demon spirits dire did hold.)

Beren and Lúthien arrive at the gate, and their disguise is immediately unsuccessful: news of Draugluin’s death has long since reached Angband (and on top of that, apparently werewolves and vampires don’t get along any better in Tolkien than in any other media). And at this moment, ahen they seem discovered, Lúthien confronts Carcharoth, and the way she does so is striking, and exemplifies much of what is so unique about her story, her character, and the Leithian as a whole.

Carcharoth is a terrible and horrific monster; he has grown so large, larger than any other wold, in eating the corpses of elves and men. Yet he is also a tormented creature; the strength that Morgoth has put in him is described as the anguish and the power of hell. And Lúthien perceieved this and fells him not with - or out of - anger or rage or fear, but pity: “Sleep, O unhappy, tortured thrall! Thou woebegotten, fail and fall down, down from anguish, hatred, pain, from lust, from hunger, bond and chain, to that oblivion, dark and deep, the well, the lightless pit of sleep! For one brief hour escape the net, the dreadful doom of life forget!” The Silmarillion expresses the same idea more briefly: “O woe-begotten spirit, fall now into dark oblivion, and forget for a while the dreadful doom of life!” Even at the gates of Angband, even facing one of Morgoth’s most powerful servants, Lúthien’s response is compassion rather than hatred or horror. And I think it is this impulse, this attitude, that makes the Leithian the most central of the tales within the Silmarillion and the one that lives on as an inspiration in later Ages.

[unknown-de-mordor-blog]

Five ships I’m still not over

Beleg Cúthalion/Túrin Turambar

Universe: Middle-earth, first age

Ship name: Nothing that’s widely used in the fandom, I don’t think. But I like to think of them as ‘Black Sword (referring to Turin’s cursed weapon) and Strongbow (direct translation of Cúthalion)’

To me, there's no character more tragic than Turin son of Hurin, and no pairing more tragic than him and Beleg. And no clearer love, too. I don't know if J. R. R. Tolkien intended for them to go that far, but their emotional connection is so deep and powerful that whether you ship them or not it's undisputedly one of the most beautiful relationships in Tolkien's lore. Alas! It's not powerful enough to undo the curse placed on Turin and his clan, which ends both his and Beleg's life all too soon and all too tragically. So, yes, I count Beleg as one of the elves who die for love.

Favourite quote: 'I would lead my own men, and make war in my own way,' Turin answered. 'But in this at least my heart is changed: I repent every stroke save those dealt against the Enemy of Men and Elves. And above all else I would have you beside me. Stay with me!' 'If I stayed beside you, love would lead me not wisdom,' said Beleg.

Uh, I love this so much because it shows the difference in their temperament and maturity. Beleg's an elf who has lived through and fought in so many wars. He's an (elf)man of duty, honour and intellect, and Turin is still a young man whose pride and stubbornness can seriously get in the way of a grown-up conversation. And Beleg is so not having any of that in this scene. He’d do anything for Turin, including ditching his command to find him, but he can pull some tough-love moves, too, when Turin’s unreasonable.

Uzumaki Naruto/Uchiha Sasuke

Universe: Naruto

Ship name: sns, narusasu, sasunaru

I think Naruto and Sasuke canonically love each other, I really do, but I don’t think they are together romantically at any point in the series. And that’s by design, really. Sasuke -- the last of the Uchiha, the tragic figure of the Naruto series (still not as tragic as Turin, but let’s not do this morbid comparison) -- has too many issues to work through, and Naruto isn’t in the position to really help him through them. So as soul-deep as their bond is, they couldn’t have been together and survive each other. Although, I really want that to happen. That’s what fanfictions are for, I guess.

Favourite quote: ‘If you attack Konoha, I will have to fight you... So save up your hatred and take it all on me, I'm the only one who can take it. It's the only thing I can do. I will shoulder your hatred and die with you.’

Honestly, Naruto might just as well propose to Sasuke with that because he’s essentially saying ‘give me your worst, I’m not leaving and never will’. I know friends could be like that, too, but normally not to this degree and not with this kind of commitment. I’m not surprised at all when Sasuke has to ask Naruto why the hell he is doing all this for him. It just goes beyond reason, really.

S'chn T'gai Spock /James T. Kirk

Universe: Star Trek

Ship name: K/S, Spirk

The Daddy of all ships! Pun intended! Spock and Kirk's friendship really walks that fine line of are they/aren’t they. I personally think they aren’t (another controversial statement coming from a shipper), but they’re so cute together you just can’t help think: what if they are? They have this deep trust and affection for one another anyway; why not push it a notch further? ‘This simple feeling,’ as Spock calls it, might as well be love.

Favourite quote:

Kirk: How's our ship? Spock: Out of danger. Kirk: Good... Spock: You saved the crew. Kirk: You used what he wanted against him. That's a nice move. Spock: It is what you would have done. Kirk: And this... this is what you would have done. It was only logical. I'm scared, Spock. Help me not be. How do you choose not to feel? Spock: I do not know. [tears fall] Right now, I am failing. Kirk: I want you to know why I couldn't let you die... why I went back for you... Spock: Because you are my friend. [Kirk places his hand against the glass and gives the Vulcan Salute as he dies]

It’s actually really hard for me to pick a quote for these two because I think every ‘Jim’ from Spock does the job except nobody else would understand it but me. (Second to that is, ‘Captian, not in front of the Klingons.’) While I love them teasing each other a lot, I think Kirk’s death scene from Star Trek Into Darkness has all the right punches to it. Spock has been unable to accept the feeling of friendship towards Kirk (actually just feelings in general) until the moment he watches Kirk dies behind the glass door. And all just comes out like BOOM! Not to mention how close Spock comes to killing Khan for revenge before Uhura tells him that Kirk can be saved but they need Khan alive. Honestly, that’s the only reason Khan’s head doesn’t go plop in Spock’s hands.

Morgoth/Sauron

Universe: Middle-earth, first age

Ship name: it just came to my attention that the fandom is calling this ship Angbang (a wordplay on the name of their home/fortress Angband). Nicely done, you naughty people. Also Melkor/Mairon if you’re going by their proper first-age names.

I think a lot of people seeing this ship would go ‘what?!’ Like, how is that even possible when Tolkien didn’t write a single scene with the two of them in it. I’d say in this case the absence is more powerful. Tolkien wrote the Silmarillion and the Unfinished Tales as lore, so they necessarily come from the perspective of the tellers; i.e., humans and elves. That doesn’t mean Tolkien didn’t drop hints about the complex characters that the dark lords of Middle-earth are. He even has Elrond says that people don’t start out evil, not even Sauron. So the question becomes, what the heck happened? And the heck that starts it all out is pretty much in the first few chapters of the Silmarillion where Morgoth is clearly a powerful and inventive figure but in many ways an outcast and shunned by everyone including the very power that made him. (*cough* daddy issue *cough*) And then we are made aware of the fact Sauron, who is also powerful and creative, isn’t on Morgoth’s side from the get go but decides to join him later. The power-hungry dark lords we are later told about aren’t that at all, so it raises the question of their true characters and motives. If anything, I think the length in which Sauron would go for Morgoth thousands of years after his master is defeated and shut away says something about their bond with each other. And if I know one thing, it can’t be fear or respect. If I have to make a guess, I think it is akin to love.

Favourite quote: There isn’t anything I can quote from the source material since there hasn’t been a dialogue or anything they say to an audience that could be trusted as genuinely representing who they are. One thing I do scream about is the scene in the Return of the King movie when the black gate opened and behind there isn’t just the tower with the eye of Sauron but Mount Doom next to it in the same frame. I was like ‘I know Morgoth’s not here but isn’t that him in spirit.’ Yes, I’m a proper trash for these two.

Also, there’s this awesome comic series (unfortunately discontinued) by Suz. It’s legitimately hotter than the fire of Aule’s forge, honestly.

Beren/Lúthien

Universe: Middle-earth, first age

Ship name: I’m not aware of any ship name for these two but ‘Beren and Luthien’ is catchy enough as it is.

How else to finish this list but to dedicate the last entry to the greatest love story of Middle-earth, and, yes, I'm saying that with a straight face because, holy hell, this couple defies expectations left, right, and centre. Luthien, our elven princess, is an active participant in her own fate. She falls in love with a human who, in an act of valour, accepts her father's stupid, impossible task to steal the most treasured jewel from Morgoth the Dark Lord himself. Luthien basically runs away from home, finds her man captured and tortured, and tears the goddamn fortress down in a showdown with the-dark-lord-to-be Sauron himself (which makes you question the competency of everyone else in Middle-earth). They then proceed to steal the jewel together. They don't quite succeed in bringing it back and Beren loses his hand in the process, but hey, they could say it's in his hand, somewhere, and now could they please marry because otherwise I have a feeling that Luthien is going to elope with her boyfriend and her mom and dad won't be seeing her again ever.

And this is really just scratching the surface of Luthien’s feisty personality quite unbefitting of most princesses until the recent overhaul of attitude by Disney. And all this came from a man who was born in the Victorian era when women's autonomy wasn't given or respected. But I think Luthien's depth of character comes from the fact that she has a real-life counterpart, and so she feels more like a real woman. And the love between Beren and Luthien feels compelling because its the love the professor himself had for his wife and life-long partner, Edith. You can check out their gravestone. I'm so not making this up.

Favourite quote: The song of Lúthien before Mandos was the song most fair that ever in words was woven, and the song most sorrowful that ever the world shall ever hear. Unchanged, imperishable, it is sung still in Valinor beyond the hearing of the world, and the listening the Valar grieved. For Lúthien wove two themes of words, of the sorrow of the Eldar and the grief of Men, of the Two Kindreds that were made by Ilúvatar to dwell in Arda, the Kingdom of Earth amid the innumerable stars. And as she knelt before him her tears fell upon his feet like rain upon stones; and Mandos was moved to pity, who never before was so moved, nor has been since.

It’s not a scene between them, but this is how far Luthien’s love and badassery goes. She loses Beren in a battle to protect her father’s kingdom, and she dies grieving him. In the afterlife, she gets to meet the god of death Mandos and sings him a song of their love and her grief. Apparently, she’s so good with words and music that Mandos is like, ‘I can’t handle the feels. You can have your husband back and have a mortal life with him.’ And Luthien takes the deal, of course.