#its me. celegorm posting again

[corsairspade]

you are a god's best friend. the world is young still, and you are yet younger. he rides with you and hunts with you, and teaches you how to speak to birds and beasts. you are a god's student. you ride in his train and care for a hound that he gifted to you. gods have taught others before. gods have been kindly to others before. your god is your best friend. he gifts you something of his self, a hound of his own hunt.

you are your father's son. your grandfather is dead. no one has ever called you wise, and you are, above all else, your father's son. he swears a terrible oath. you swear a terrible oath. you don't know if you really mean it, but your mother named you well- you are hasty to rise, hasty to run into things. the hunt teaches you patience but you cannot outrun yourself. you are your father's son.

you are a god's best friend and you have sworn a terrible oath, but it is an oath that you hope that your friend can understand. to hunt the murderer of your grandfather, is something that the god of the hunt can understand.

you are your father's son. the blood of elves on your hands does not feel different than the blood of a deer, except in the tight feeling of your throat. except in the thunderous beating of your heart. you tell your brother, who is trying not to throw up, that you need to think of them like deer. he looks at you like he's never seen you before. you are forever doomed.

you are a god's best friend. he does not say goodbye, but your dog comes with you. surely you can fix this, then, surely you are still a god's friend.

you are your father's son. he dies. he dies but before he does, he tells you to burn the boats. you do. you are your father's son. your father dies and, he tells you to swear that oath once more. it is a terrible oath. you have sworn it once. you swore to your best friend once. surely it will not tip the scales to swear once more, if in your mind, you dedicate this hunt to him.

you were a god's best friend, and it is not enough. you are your father's son, and you speak your father's oath. it proceeds to eat you alive.

[tanoraqui]

now that this fic is all published, I can ramble about the things that happen afterward in the timeline! Feel SO free to ask about anything you want more details of.

First off, all three posts about Dave the Balrog are 100% canon to this au, except for where they sometimes contradict the fic's worldbuilding or plot bc I hadn't settled on every detail yet. Also, Dave’s name is probably more like “Drav”, from the Sindarin “drava-”, “to hew.”

That happens much later, though - about 1980 TA. FIRST, immediately, as Celebrimbor says: it's time to save the orcs!

That is, wildly self-indulgent crossover with @ceescedasticity's fic(verse) elves, once, which isn't 100% my headcanon for orcs but it's essentially canon for this au because it makes everything VERY FUNNY in a tragic irony way. I've thought about this so much that it really deserves its own bullet-point post, but highlights include:

- Annatar attempts to conceal the fact that Curufin and Celegorm are orcs, and, y'know, have been since they died. This works until Celebrimbor identifies a bunch of the orc army's weapons as made by his father, even if the style is strange and fell, and the two of the have a HUGE fight in front of representatives of every Elvish kingdom in Middle Earth and most of an army of orcs.

- Bellow/Turgon is having the single strangest, most uncomfortable road trip of his life, and he counts the crossing of the Helcaraxë in that total.

- Turgon tries to convince Galadriel to take Celebrían and Elrond and get out of here, because inevitably this must be a cruel trick and all the orcs will be forced to turn on all the Elves. Galadriel is like, "Honestly, I've been watching Celebrimbor's slow corruption and Sauron's slower un-corruption for about 2,000 years now, and I think we actually have a shot at this. Also, bold of you to assume you can beat me in a fight."

- Curufin and Celegorm had BOOKED IT when Annatar's summoning-compulsion snapped, on the reasonable assumption that any plan the Dark Lord had for them + Celebrimbor could only be cruel to the extreme...so Celebrimbor and Annatar go on a bonus road trip to retrieve them.

- Everyone meets up by the Sea again, but instead of taking (or, obeying) the offer of escape into Ulmo's hands, Turgon and probably a bunch of other orcs volunteer to come help break the Crucible. They Deserve This.

- In the end, as usual, the day is ultimately saved - as are the souls of thousands of trapped elves - by the power of love and overwhelming violence.

AND THEN...

Celebrimbor & Annatar don't actually rebuild Ost-in-Edhil and Eregion as they were. Those days are over, and also the surviving Númenoreans kinda...regard Annatar as Absolute Evil, for some mysterious reason. And those who knew about the whole or even partial conspiracy - namely Tar-Miriel herself - aren't too keen on Celebrimbor, either.

They leave whoever wants to stay and rebuild in Eregion, leadership tbd based on the traditional system of craft-based meritocracy, and take a few decades off to lay low from geopolitics, work on their marriage, and for Celebrimbor to learn a little bit of necromancy so he can manipulate his own fëa and hröa, thank you very much.

They stay with the Witch-Queen of Calador for a while, discreetly because officially that kingdom is also not on good terms with its “former” evil-ish overlord. (The Witch-Queen of Calador and her not really sane, almost certainly unsafe, but arguably consensual relationship with Annatar really deserves her own post, too. She’s my favorite OC of this au. She really loves bats.)

Elrond & Celebrían get married! Elrond always knew his wedding would have to involve stopping drunken brawls from erupting between people who love him but hate each other, but he’d assumed it’d be Iathrim and Fëanorians, not an elderly Queen Miriel going for Annatar’s eyes with a butter knife.

Annatar regards the birth of Elrohir and Elladan with some concern, this alarming lineage now augmented by the blood of Arafinwë (cut off Melkor’s foot) and Galadriel (Melian’s pupil, hates him). But that’s nothing to how freaked out he is by Arwen, who is such an obvious Reprise of Lúthien that it’s now CLEAR that this was all a Melian scheme to assault him, personally.

He can’t just kill her now—Elrond and Galadriel and both right here, not to mention Celebrimbor. And then she’d absolutely be his enemy when she Returned… No, the only solution is to stay in Imladris for a while and become her most beloved uncle whom she would not dream of assaulting, whom she could not bring herself to injure even if circumstance and conscience forced her hand. Love has ever been the undoing of Melian’s line. The Reprise is obvious, but not so established that he cannot twist it into irony, Lúthien’s heir as his devoted student and companion rather than foe.

[smash cut to late 3rd Age Annatar watching the Music settle into place as Arwen interacts with the newest, currently toddling scion of the House of Elendil and nearly killing the child right then because no, no, thats not how this was supposed to Reprise—that’s his jewel of an elf-queen, Singer and trade-manipulator and niece, and he’s going to lose her forever? Killing the brat won’t even work, that would only make her follow him sooner, one way or another—]

Celebrimbor doesn’t want to build a city (and have his heart broken by the loss of the city) again, but he very much does want to ImproveThe World, and also to Make Things With His Hands. So he and Annatar, and whoever of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain wish to join them, set about… “Traveling” is too loose a term; just because they’re not city-building doesn’t mean anyone here wants to live on the road. They need workshops, forges, and ideally a maia-sized cat tree tall tower from which to survey their domain. They are a highly skilled work crew/technical, artistic & management consultants who change cities every 5-200 years, throughout Middle Earth and perhaps even other continents.

This what Celebrimbor and Annatar do, for most of the rest of their time in Middle Earth. A few of the Mírdain travel with them all the time. Others strike out on their own, or in similar small groups. Others stay in rebuilt Ost-in-Edhil, or Rivendell or the Havens or another Elvish kingdom, and come lend a hand when their particular talents are called for. Everyone who “died” in Númenor and was “resuscitated” by Annatar walked away with a strengthened, basically permanent osanwë connection to the simulated workshop group chat, which they’re aware of, and a location tracker and fëa-stamp saying “PROPERTY OF MAIRON, FUCK AROUND AND YOU WILL FIND OUT” which only an Ainu could detect.

They're the mysterious stranger(s) who accept an offer of hospitality on a stormy night and reward you with a magic ring that blesses your farm with fecundity. They arrive in a city in the middle of a cholera outbreak and inform the local rulers that they're here to overhaul the whole wells & sewers system in exchange for room and board; no, the local rulers do not get a choice in this. One time they do oust an evil ruling dynasty and just kinda take over the kingdom for a few centuries, but then Celebrimbor starts to get paranoid of his own growing attachment so Annatar reluctantly agrees to find and raise some honorable candidate for kingship [gender-neutral]. One of the Mírdain with them says, what about the choice of the people? And then after a lot of discussion, partly in collaboration with their local Men, they write up and seal with Power a Constitution that establishes an oversight body of political, economic, craft and etc. experts to oversee and have veto power over popular elections to kingship from a slate of candidates chosen by the current/soon-to-be previous king, on a strict thirty-year schedule. There, that should stabilize the whole messy business of mortal succession!

Also, 1300 years or so into the Third Age when this version of Gondor hits its equivalent of the Kin-Strife, Annatar takes advantage of its weakness to initiate a plan he's been contemplating for a while, especially while gaining local insight into a variety of nation-states and their management, and returns to Oroduin to forge what may he his last Great Work...a new standard of currency.

It’s called, in the common tongue developing from Adúnaic and Sindarin, the “mira”, pl. “miran”, from Quenya “mírë” (“jewel, precious thing). Where pettier currencies are based in gold or silver or the might of some particular empire, these hold value Because a Great Maia Said So—indeed, Sang So, Sang a new line into the Great Music that these coins would always have a value of…whatever he said so, if he updated a petty lyric or two of their Song. Those who use the coins don’t need to know this; they simply intuit, with coins in hand, what they are worth.

(You can lead even the mightiest empire by the nose if you control the price of grain alone, much less other commodities, or one currency relative to another. Each minute adjustment takes Power, especially to shift the natural balance of multiple interlocking goods…but Annatar is a master of the perfectly placed lever with which to shift the world.)

Maybe at some point the Valar are like, “okay, I think they don’t irrationally hate us anymore, I think this could work” and send a small group of Maiar to openly, humbly approach Annatar and Celebrimbor and ask if they might be apprentices in the craft of…whatever the fuck is happening here. Or maybe something adjacent, because Pallandro and Alatar would really like to fuck off into those excellent looking woods and hunt the remnants of Ungoliant’s spawn, and Radagast actually wandered away 5 minutes ago to talk to a bird. He’s gonna be a while. But Curumo and Olórin are listening politely!

…Or maybe not. Maybe it’s just the Jewelsmiths, slowly becoming folklore, bettering the world (and manipulating wide-scale economics) one stone at a time. (They’d still be the “Jewelsmiths” anyway, even if they included those who, in another universe, were called “The Wise.”)

As stated in the third Dave the Balrog post, they do Sail eventually, several centuries after Arwen’s death. Celebrimbor just gets tired, and Annatar can’t fix it. Ossë spends the whole voyage backstroking next to their ship and sarcastically quoting Annatar back at himself, Years of the Trees insults about being made weak and pathetic by love, until Annatar nearly lunges over the side as a wolf to tear his throat out.

[starsofarda]

I am going to pretend that an era of men has not passed, because time does not exist and my brain hamsters were hyperocusing on different stuff ANYWAY.

It's time I continued with the comparisons made by @tolkien-feels started in this post here: https://starsofarda.tumblr.com/post/699114521219973120/tolkien-feels

Today we are going to compare Lothlorien and Nargothrond.

Under cut!

LOTHLORIEN AND NARGOTHROND

Galadriel, sister of Finrod: Well if you can get inside my realm you're under my protection, but it's also entirely possible my guards will shoot you dead the second you cross into my land, so roll the dice - @tolkien-feels

Again we are going to establish what are these places, why they were built and who lived/lives there.

Boy oh boy, this is gonna be A LOT to unpack.

We are pretty much in the middle of the Siege of Angband and we can point at Ulmo for being the motus primum that started Finrod Felagund to look for a hidden place. Anyway, Finrod did bring with him his sister Galadriel and again I am not surprised that Galadriel did the same as her brother.

Anyway.

Finrod and Galadriel travel, meet up with Thingol who gives them directions for the Caves of Narog and Finrod, who very much is impressed with what Thingol did with Doriath, does the same with these caves.

He was helped by the Dwarves, eventually got his epithet of Felagund.

And honestly I think that Nargothrond was one of the best protected areas, but it fell due to what I would call hubris. And also inaction, never forget Orodreth The Useless.

There are also several cursed people happening, namely Turin Turambar, Beren and Luthien and two of Feanor's sons, namely Celegorm and Curufin.

And also Glaurung.

And I think the amount of people who contributed to Nargothrond's fall was what prompted Galadriel to build Lothlorien the way she did and guard it the way she did.

This is a bit of speculation, but maybe she thought that Finrod had been way too trusting, and that lead to his death and later to the fall of Nargothrond.

I mean, let us think of the people who dwelled in Nargothrond.

Curufin and Celegorm: exiled after the Dagor Bragollach, the moment they hear the word "Silmarillion" they stop using their brains and start channelling their inner Feanor.

Orodreth (the Useless), the one who literally fled Minas Tirith rather than facing Morgoth, the one who literally threw away the crown offered to him when Finrod went with Beren to Angband and had to be convinced.

Beren and Luthien only "passed by", but let us not forget that Celegorm kidnapped Luthien twice.

Turin Turambar: the Cursed One, responsible for building the bridge that ultimately contributed to the destruction of Nargothrond by Glaurung. Righteous, but he kills te wrong people all the time.

I guess that Galadriel, having seen and heard what happened to Nargothrond, did suffer like a minor to major PTSD in that sense, so when she finally got to Lothlorien I think her stream of consciousness went something like:

My brother finrod had the right idea

We need to improve on that tho

Too many people were there meddling in the Nargothrond

Yes, sure, people might be welcome, but also the moment I catch a whiff of bitch I am killing them, no questions asked

There should be a post about Galadriel and her very understandable trust issues, but I think I can link that to how Lothlorien was built.

That with the fact that Galadriel can see into people's minds* plays a lot in making Lothlorien absolutely impenetrable. With all of this I think I get why Galadriel's reputation outside of the elvish realm is not exactly positive.

And I am not sure that this all makes sense, but this is what I personally gather. Comments, suggestions and responses are more than welcome!

---

*well, this deserves a post on its own, but let me have this because I am not yet equipped to discuss semantics.

[thescrapwitch]

Hi your fics and fic ideas are all so interesting! Ive lost the post that mentioned it but i think you had a story idea with Celegorm and Curufin getting kicked out of Mandos and meeting Celebrimbor’s ghost. Could you tell me a bit about how that reveal and reunion went?

Hello! Thank you so much!

So, that WIP would be "Celegorm and Curufin Aren't Dead". I don't want to spoil too much (since I am slowly writing it and will hopefully be able to post it sometime this year) but here are a few details I have worked out.

C+C are released (temporarily) by Namo in order to free a bunch of souls trapped in Middle Earth, and the reveal that one of those souls is Celebrimbor's happens very early on. Its Namo's way of making sure that C+C actually do the job he's sending them to do. Any plans C+C have of just fooling around on Middle Earth while they can and not obeying Namo are thrown out the window once they know Celebrimbor needs help. Things may have ended horribly between them all, but he's still their son/nephew and they will rescue him.

The reunion I am going to save because I look forward to punching people's hearts with it, but there are a few things that I'm sure ghost Celebrimbor and suddenly-alive-again Curufin (and to some extent Celegorm) want to say to one another.

Sorry that's not a lot of info, but I do want to save some stuff for reader discovery when its done.

[fangirl-erdariel]

One thing that sometimes bugs me in the comparisons to Tolkien is that - it's not even like Tolkien's works are entirely devoid of sexual violence?? Like. He doesn't go into graphic detail on it, it's not something Tolkien has in central focus. But it most definitely is there. (And hey, Tolkien also doesn't go into detail on non-sexual violence if he doesn't need to)

More specific examples and rambling on the topic under the cut, bc this got long on what is already a long post

It really doesn't take a particularly attentive reader to figure out Wormtongue's intentions and desires regarding Éowyn, for instance; like yeah he never lays a hand on her as far as we know, but the threat of what could have happened if he'd gotten his way is... pretty obvious

And Silmarillion has its share of male characters desiring women (or the political power of those women's families, depending) and attempting (sometimes succeeding) to force them into marriage. I don't feel like getting involved in the debate of whether Aredhel initially not being "wholly unwilling" to marry Eöl and stay in Nan Elmoth disqualifies her from the list or whether the amount of coercion involved is enough to still make it count.

But Lúthien most definitely is kidnapped against her will, and though she escapes before anything happens, Celegorm's intention explicitly was to marry her whether she wanted or not. Upon seeing Lúthien, Morgoth, the evil dark lord "conceived in his thought an evil lust, and a design more dark than any that had yet come into his heart", and I think we all can figure out what that is (and his lines in the Lay of Leithian, talking of Lúthien as "a pretty toy for idle hour" and speaking about kissing and then bruising and crushing pretty flowers... it's not particularly subtle), even if once again he doesn't get to actually do so.

And there's Maeglin, who desires Idril, and who is promised "the possession of Idril" as reward for betraying the location of the hidden realm of Gondolin, "and indeed desire for Idril -- led Maeglin the easier to his treachery"

And in the children of húrin bit there's Aerin of the folk of Hador whom the invader lord Brodda takes as wife against her will. And then of course there's Míriel of Númenor, whom her cousin Pharazôn forcibly marries in order to seize her throne that is rightfully there

All those are just what I can think of off the top of my head; I'm sure there'd be more examples if I cared to go digging through the material, but I can't be bothered

So, like. Yeah. Sure. Tolkien doesn't really ever use the word "rape" for the things that happen (he seems to mainly use that word in the more archaic meaning of large-scale destruction and/or robbery by violent means, rather than in its modern definition). And in Lúthien and Idril's cases, of course ultimately nothing happens, they escape and all. And as noted, Aredhel's case is more debatable since she wasn't "wholly unwilling". But still.

I'm pretty dang sure that Tolkien understood that a woman being married against her will would be subjected to sexual violence, and is assuming that to be the reader's understanding of the situation when those cases come up. Gríma's, Morgoth's, and Maeglin's intentions towards the women they desire are definitely to be understood as violent and with no care towards what the women in question want (and at least in Morgoth's case, judging by Lay of Leithian, even actively delighting in the idea of doing it by force to an unwilling victim)

And just. I don't know. It kind of bugs me when people act like Tolkien's setting and works are unrealistic because they're devoid of sexual violence? Like. Well first of all, as earlier posters in the thread have pointed out, massive amounts of sexual violence aren't necessarily realistic to begin with. But like also it is a thing that does happen in the setting too... I don't even mean this as a like "oh isn't it so fun doesn't this make the books so much more adult" or anything, and I understand people who enjoy Tolkien's books because it doesn't have like explicit rape scenes the way some other authors do. I just like... the fact that people keep claiming that sexual violence pretty much doesn't even exist in Middle-Earth, when it very much does, it's just kind of left as a threat and an implication or spoken of in very vague terms, is kind of baffling? Honestly it kinda gives the impression that the person saying it either hasn't read Tolkien since they were thirteen or doesn't actually spend the time to understand what the text they're reading means beyond the most obvious surface level. Or they're deliberately saying something that isn't true because it serves some point they want to make

Like, just because something is not shown explicitly in graphic detail with pages upon pages of description, doesn't mean it's not there in the story or the setting at all? You're supposed to pick up on implications and read between the lines and understand those as deliberate choices from the author and a part of the story and setting too?

Someone over on Discord asked, "I'm morbidly curious: How BAD is A Song of Ice and Fire in terms of the authenticity George claims it to be?"

My reply was straightforward:

The long and the short of it is that ASOIAF is basically a vehicle for GRRM to present both his rape fetish and his Hobbesian view on human nature and has less historical accuracy than Frozen or most other Disney movies.

That's actually a good way to think of it, now that I've said it--he's Family Unfriendly, they're Family Friendly, but both have the same relationship with History: just Pure Aesthetic with no consideration for how the worldbuilding would work.

[thelordofgifs]

the fairest stars

What if Angrist was a little tougher, and Beren and Lúthien managed to steal two Silmarils from Morgoth instead of one? Somehow I’ve already written NINE parts of this unhinged bullet point AU here and decided it was time for a fresh post to avoid that one getting too long.

Where we left off: Lúthien has been negotiating with Mandos like a pro, Maglor is nearly-but-not-quite-dead in Menegroth, Thingol has taken one Silmaril from him, Fingon has the other Silmaril and ditched Curufin outside the Girdle even though they did some bonding on the Worst Road Trip, and people are still upset about Celegorm’s death. YES I am well aware that the pipeline from the fairly normal first sentence of the post to this mess is insane.

Fingon and Maedhros are both very, very good tacticians. Between them, it isn’t very difficult for Fingon to follow Maedhros’ directions towards Menegroth, and then to find the hidden pathways by which Huan led Maedhros out of Thingol’s halls.

It helps that Thingol is still under the impression that the Girdle is impenetrable with the aid of his Silmaril, so he doesn’t have anyone keeping an eye out for the High King of the Noldor sneaking into his realm on an Adventure.

Finding Maglor's sickroom/prison cell/whatever is a little trickier, but not impossible. Long ago in Tirion Fingon was a mischievous child, so he's well aware that the best way not to get caught sneaking into a forbidden place is to make it perfectly clear that you belong there.

He strides confidently down the corridors, silently reciting Maedhros' directions to himself. Nobody stops him.

He's hoping that Curufin was wrong, and he'll know Maglor's door by the holy light showing through the cracks; but when none is evident he's forced to take his chances and start trying doors in the area Maedhros indicated at random.

Since he has plot armour is very lucky with this whole improbable-rescue thing he comes across Maglor without any trouble.

Maglor is only half-conscious – quite apart from the wounded leg, he hasn’t eaten in days – but his eyes flicker open when Fingon comes in.

“Hello, Makalaurë,” Fingon says, deliberately cheerful. “I’ve come to take you home.”

“You can’t do that,” Maglor says dazedly. “It burned – in the Bragollach – remember?”

Fingon opts not to answer that. “Russo said you were healing when he left,” he says instead, frowning at the bloodstained bandages around Maglor’s leg. “What happened? Has Thingol been mistreating you? I thought Lúthien at least was kind!”

Maybe he was too hasty in leaving Curufin outside the Girdle.

Maglor hurries to explain that Lúthien is dead, and that he’s actually in this pathetic state by choice or something.

“Right,” says Fingon, “well, you’re coming back to Himring now.”

But Maglor shakes his head. “I can’t, Finno,” he says. “Thingol took the Silmaril from me. I don’t – I’ve been trying to hold it back. The Oath. But I can’t leave it in Doriath and go, I can’t. So you’ll have to leave me behind.” He manages a brave and tragic smile.

On Thangorodrim while Fingon was struggling futilely with Morgoth’s iron shackle, hopeless tears running down his face, Maedhros said, You’ll never be able to free me, Finno, just kill me, please—

Fingon is rather sick of Fëanorian melodrama.

“One step ahead of you,” he says brightly, and he produces Maedhros’ Silmaril from its box, handing it to Maglor before his Oath can stir at the sight of it. “Here it is.”

This would never normally work. But Maglor is very tired and ill, and not thinking as clearly as he otherwise would.

As long as the obvious question doesn’t occur to him until they get outside the Girdle again—

Maglor takes the jewel and gives a relieved little sigh as the bite of the Oath eases. “You really took it from Thingol?”

“Of course,” Fingon lies. “Let’s put it back in the box for now so that it doesn’t attract too much attention?”

Maglor acquiesces. He and Fingon aren’t close exactly, but they get on well – certainly far better than Fingon does with Curufin. There’s an odd shared camaraderie that comes from loving Maedhros; it lends itself well to cooperation in difficult circumstances.

Fingon picks Maglor up – he's alarmingly light – and they begin to make their way back out of Menegroth.

"You're to be my betrothal gift," Fingon tells Maglor, and Maglor actually laughs.

Unfortunately it's much harder to look innocuous when you're carrying someone about five minutes away from expiring on the spot.

They haven't got very far before an angry voice comes from behind them: "Who are you and where are you going with the Fëanorion?"

Damn.

Meanwhile

[I should clarify my definition of "meanwhile" here. Evidently time runs much slower in Aman than it does in Middle-earth, even post-Darkening, or it's difficult to fathom why Beren and Lúthien canonically took two years to return from death. In vague support of this, the Fellowship find that time runs slowly in Lothlórien, presumably with the aid of Galadriel's ring, so I posit that the more Divine Stuff there is near a place (and Galadriel was ofc a student of Melian too), the more weird time shit occurs. So since I've anyway fudged the timelines so that travel times work out conveniently, we can also put the bits of story occurring in Aman here for funsies.]

Meanwhile, Finrod has been following Celegorm around in the Halls of Mandos.

"Was it worth it?" he asks. "Did you take joy in the lordship of Nargothrond, once I was gone?"

"I could ask you the same," says Celegorm, responding for the first time. "Did you die for anything in the end, Ingoldo? The mortal's here, after all your efforts. So much for your oath."

"So much for yours," says Finrod; "it looks like that eternal darkness you doomed yourself to wasn't that dark. Or eternal. So what was it all for? Do you even regret any of it?"

The dead can't lie. Artifice and deception are matters of the flesh, and they are buried with it.

"I didn't want you to die," Celegorm says.

"Well, that's a start!" says Finrod. "I can't say I'm glad to see you here, either."

"O Fair and Faithful one," says Celegorm, "spare me none of your pity. They are already whispering that you will be released soon, first of all the Exiles to walk again in Aman. So it's all turned out rather well for you, despite your evil cousins' machinations."

"I suppose it has," says Finrod, thinking.

The thing is, it was worth it. Beren's life mattered. It mattered that he saved it, even if he died to do so, even if Beren is dead now too (although word is that might be changing).

He did not do it expecting a reward.

"And my werewolf was bigger than yours," says Celegorm.

Finrod rolls his metaphorical eyes. "At least I actually killed mine."

Cousinly bickering is still kind of fun, even when you're dead.

Curufin, fuming outside the Girdle, would not agree.

After a time he's forced to conclude that the only thing he can do is head back to Himring.

The ride through Himlad, once as green and fair a land as any, does not improve his mood.

Also his burned hand is still hurting.

Look: here's the little stream where Celegorm caught a huge fish once; and here are the low hills where, a couple of centuries ago, they held some war games and Curufin's people thrashed Celegorm's decisively.

Here's the copse where, years before the Dagor Aglareb brought tentative peace to East Beleriand, Curufin and his son were surprised by a party of orcs, who took their small patrol all captive.

Tyelpë was just barely of age at the time. How trusting his eyes, then, how baby-soft his hair: how easily he had believed that his father would fix everything.

As for Curufin, he spent the hours-long ordeal learning anew what terror was, rendered compliant by the mere possibility that they could hurt his child.

They were fine, in the end. Celegorm rode up to the rescue while the orcs were still quarrelling over where to take them.

But Curufin remembers: how disabling love can be.

Meanwhile Fingon finds himself surrounded by a crowd of angry Iathrim in their home city.

He sets Maglor down on the floor and sets a hand on his sword-hilt, wondering if he is about to become a Kinslayer again.

(Fingon regrets Alqualondë more than anything; and he'd do it again, for Maedhros' sake. He knows this about himself.)

Before things escalate too far, Thingol shows up at the scene of the disturbance.

"We haven't met," Fingon says. "Fingon son of Fingolfin, High King of the Noldor in Beleriand. I've come for my cousin." He gives Thingol a rather dangerous smile.

Thingol thinks he might be in serious trouble. He attempts to adopt a conciliatory tone (which is really really hard for Thingol ok he's trying).

"He'll die if he's moved," he says, nodding to where Maglor is slumped against the wall, shivering.

"He'll die if he stays here!" Fingon says. "Is this the famed hospitality of your halls?"

"He has been offered every treatment he could ask for," Thingol says. "It is not the fault of Menegroth if he chooses to refuse them. Now tell me, son of Fingolfin, how came you through the Girdle of Melian – without her leave or mine?"

Maglor puts the pieces together. "Finno, you lied to me," he breathes, glancing at the box in Fingon's hand.

Fingon wonders if it would be diplomatically insensitive to kick Thingol.

"The jewel alone does not explain it," Thingol insists. "While I hold the Silmaril my daughter won, surely—?"

"I could have told you that, had you asked," says Maglor. "Silmarils aren't weapons! You can't use one as some sort of military defence."

Thingol is now questioning all his life choices.

He only took the Silmaril from Maglor in the first place because he thought it would protect his kingdom, and now—

Maglor is feeling resigned. He should have known Fingon's claim was too good to be true. Thingol still has the Silmaril, and Maglor can't leave Menegroth without it.

Face pale and set, he attempts to get to his feet, mostly unsuccessfully.

Fingon looks down at him. "Seriously, Makalaurë?" And when Maglor ignores him, he says, "Sorry about this," and kicks Maglor's bad leg – carefully, but still hard enough to hurt.

Maglor faints.

Fingon picks his limp body up. "The Silmaril isn't yours," he tells Thingol.

"The white ships of Olwë my brother's people were not yours, either," Thingol returns.

Fingon inclines his head, acknowledging the point. "I don't wish to start a war over the Silmaril," he says. Maglor is so cold and still in his arms. "My cousins have done enough for that cause lately. Only let me take my kinsman home."

Thingol hesitates. The iron box in Fingon's hand is so close, and Fingon is outnumbered, and he has his injured cousin to worry about—

It could all be over, if he took the second Silmaril. He'd never need to worry about his people's safety from invasion again.

"Elu," comes a voice from behind him, "enough of this. Let them go."

"Queen Melian," says Fingon, bowing his head.

She barely looks at him, meeting her husband's gaze instead. "Time and again you have disregarded me," she says. "Lúthien is lost, and yet you persist with this. Will you heed me now?"

Thingol stares at her, and then, finally, he waves his hand. The bristling guards move aside, allowing Fingon free passage down the corridor.

"I trust you can remember your way out," Thingol tells Fingon, and turns away.

Fingon looks at Melian. "Thank you," he says, "and I am very sorry about your daughter."

He has met Maiar before, of course, in Valinor: but Melian is still unsettling, with her implausibly flawless face and eyes that hold yet the memory of a time before Time.

"Little king," she says, "only hope that you will not know any such pain yourself."

Fingon manages a smile. "I'm good at that," he says. "Hope."

On that note he leaves Menegroth, carrying Maglor, and begins to make the long trek back through the Forest of Region, and thence to Himring.

Curufin has managed the journey significantly more quickly. On a crisp cold morning he rides back through Himring's gates.

Maedhros has been... managing. Not well, but he trusts Fingon.

Beloved, I will bring them back to you. Beloved, I will bring them back to you. Beloved, I will bring them back to you.

But here's Curufin by himself, looking pale and tired, and after all it was only a hastily-scribbled note, not an incantation.

Maedhros arrives at the gate at a run.

Scarce weeks ago it was the other way around, Maedhros riding into the fortress with Fingon's cloak only just concealing his bloodstained clothes: and Curufin met him as he came in and he can still feel the terrible jolt of knowledge in his stomach, and Celegorm is still dead.

How can it be borne?

A thought comes to Curufin and for a moment he thinks it the cruellest idea he has ever had, but Celegorm is dead and his hand is still burned and nobody expects any better of him anyway.

"They're dead," he says flatly, "they're both dead," and Maedhros just – stares at him.

(to be continued)

[memoriapraeteritorumbonorum]

Nocturnal Thoughts - Caranthir x human!reader

Word count: 3.1k

Summary: Reader, who is a human from our world, finds herself reminiscing about her life after waking up in the middle of a hot summer night.

Tags: Fluff, a tiny bit of angst - tw short mentions of depression/panic attacks, established relationship

Author's note: This is my very first fanfic to post! I just realized it gives OC vibes in some parts, but enjoy nonetheless!

-

It was late. Everyone in the estate had gone to sleep, the only ones awake would have to be the guards and myself. I had woken up in confusion, not remembering what I had dreamt about. It was a shame, really. Turning my head to the left, I saw my husband sleeping soundly. Suddenly, I became aware of every little detail in the room. The window had been opened slightly. Caranthir must have done so in hopes of cool air filling the room. I watched the drapes dance with the night wind. The stars seemed to shine brighter than ever. So much so, that I found myself averting my eyes and looking over to the wooden door instead, feeling the desire to join them outside. It was closed, its engravings shining ever so slightly in the silver moonlight that was shifting with the shadows of the drapes. I could hear the river flowing in the background. Little waves breaking against rocks. Usually, it was never quiet enough for it to be heard in our chambers. I only ever heard it during warm summer nights like this. When everyone was asleep and I would wake up at a random time. Next to me, Caranthir moved closer until one of his hands was grazing my upper arm. It was hard to fall asleep like that, when every little touch resulted in you becoming a sweaty mess. I turned and looked at him again, taking it all in. 

His long, raven hair was spawled messily across the pillow, framing his pale face that was glistening in the light of the moon. A collection of freckles was adorning his rosy cheeks and nose. Some had even made it up to his forehead. It amazed me how he still managed to blush in his sleep. I could see why his mother had named him Carnistir. Whether it had anything to do with him blushing a lot or getting hotheaded when someone provoked him was something I would most likely never know. 

For once, his forehead was not creased. He was known for his bad temper, constantly wearing a scowl on his handsome face, scaring everyone. Except for his brothers, of course.

I always wondered if he ever got exhausted from frowning so much. He would always say that it wasn’t his fault everyone around him was so obnoxious. Typical. I smiled at the thought, picturing him shrugging and looking away sheepishly, another infamous blush creeping onto his cheeks. He was so shy and gentle behind closed doors, but Valar, when someone angered him, it took all six of his brothers to restrain him. It was only yesterday that he had broken several of Celegorm’s swords and I still didn’t know how. When I had talked to Celegorm about it, he had told me it was because Amrod and Amras had played a prank on him. I couldn’t blame Caranthir for losing his temper at that. The Ambarussar could be a living hell when they were in the mood for shenanigans, especially when it was no secret their older brother had anger issues, making him an easy target. That didn’t stop the twins, though. I made a mental note to go and talk to them in the morning before they would travel back home. The only quiet time Caranthir got was the time spent in bed. Not even his study was a safe space for him, since everyone was on his back, always. He never complained about being the Lord of the house, but I could tell it was draining from the way he threw himself onto our bed every night. I tried assisting him as much as I could, but unfortunately, most of the business he was dealing with was out of my range. 

It warmed my heart, seeing him sleep so peacefully for once. That was why I tried to slip out of bed as quietly as I could, only for him to grab my arm and murmur an incoherent string of words. His voice was laced with sleep, eyes still closed, but a little frown had found its way onto his forehead. I sighed softly, leaning forward and carefully removing my arm from his protective grasp. 

"I’m just going to get some fresh air," I whispered, tenderly caressing his jaw with the back of my hand and ghosting my lips over his cheek, easing him back into the slumber he had threatened to awaken from. Shoulders slacking in relief, I got up and adjusted my nightgown before tiptoeing to the closet, where I draped a robe over my body, black silk sliding over the exposed skin of my shoulders. I made sure to fix my hair, in case of an encounter with another person. Putting it in a loose braid, I let it fall down my shoulder. I had never been a person to braid my hair, since I never possessed the patience and skill to put it in different styles — my hair had always been too short anyway. When Caranthir and I had started courting, he had been amused by my impatience and had showed me a few styles that even I could master, one of them being the loose braid that I had just finished. After having moved to Thargelion with him, I had decided to grow out my hair, much to his pleasure. He had always insisted long hair suited me better. Whenever he would come back from his travels, he would bring me the finest jewellery and combs to put in my hair. He would sit next to me and show me how to braid and style it with the utmost concentration and care, it was adorable. 

Feeling a cool breeze graze my back, I grabbed a scarf from the chair next to my vanity and sneaked to the wooden door, tracing the engravings with my index finger as I opened it carefully.

Before knew it, my feet had carried me all the way to the gardens. Taking a deep breath, I felt the fresh night air enter my lungs. There was nothing like taking a stroll in the middle of the night, when there was no soul around except for my own. I tilted my head upwards to greet Varda and a wave of comfort washed over me. The starlight shone more divinely than ever, glowing ever so silver. I was sure she was watching over the gardens right now. It had been a long time since I had last seen her. She had been the force that had kept me safe when I had fallen from the sky all those years ago, making me feel a special connection to her. When I had told the Fëanorians about her after they had found me, they had been astounded. Never before had they heard about their beloved goddess showing herself to a human. I had begun to appreciate the starlight in a different way after that incident. It wasn’t just a beautiful sight to see. No matter where you were, the stars would shine bright every night, for everyone to see. The feeling of being bathed in starlight was something I would never be able to put into words. 

I reached out to caress the flowers around me as I walked down the steps to the river. Caranthir would always joke that I might as well reside in the gardens because I would always spend so much time there, especially in the summer. The thought brought a smile to my face. My darling husband and his humor. 

It was dead silent by the river. The only audible noises were my bare feet tapping against the cold stone of the path I was walking on and the water. A sigh left my lips as I sat down at the edge of the water and moved my hand inside, feeling the cool waves take control of my fingers, as if they were liquid themselves. The trees around me rustled softly in the nightwind. The fresh smell of grass was all around me. I watched the reflection of the moon dance on top of the river while humming the simple melody of a song. Makalaurë had composed it for me when I had told him about my past life. It told the story of the young girl from a place called Earth, who fell from the sky into the Realms of Arda. It was a beautiful song and I remembered crying when he had first sung it to me. That night, he had allowed me to call him by his mother-given name, not Maglor, what everybody else called him. It was a shame that he was currently away travelling. Nights like these made me wish I could see my dear friend again and listen to his magnificent harping.

I got along well with Caranthir’s brothers, especially with Makalaurë. He was quiet and always lost in his thoughts, strumming his harp and unconsciously creating beautiful melodies that would get stuck in my head. 

The twins were the ones that I spent a lot of time with, as well. They were the youngest of the bunch, closest to my age and always down for a good time. If I needed to clear my head and forget about everything, they would take me on a ride into the forest, showing me their hunting paths, joking and laughing all the while. I still had to tell them off sometimes, when they were angering Caranthir. Even though they were so much older than me, they behaved like the little brothers I had never had. 

Maedhros was similar to Makalaurë in the way that he was just as quiet and gentle, being the oldest brother and therefore the most mature. He would always be busy. However, there had been some rare occasions when I had gotten to join him in the library. We wouldn’t talk, but rather just enjoy each other’s company and our appreciation for the stories manifested in those old books. It was rather sad that I had never gotten the chance to really get to know him, I knew he had a special bond with Caranthir, being the big brother, and having played an important role in his childhood. Maybe he would come visit someday. 

It had taken quite a while for Celegorm and Curufin to accept and respect me as part of their family. In fact, they had been the last of Caranthir’s brothers to get introduced to me. I had heard stories beforehand, of how they would gang up on him and compete for their father’s affections. To this day, their relationship was strained from all the boundaries they had and continued to cross so shamelessly. So much so, that Caranthir still didn’t trust them to be alone with me. However, over the past few years, we all seemed to have warmed up to each other. The uneasiness would always be hidden inside my gut, but sometimes the two of them were shockingly pleasant company. We would meet up in Curufin’s smithy when the sun was setting and he would talk about his newest project and show us his sketches, which would be bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. Celegorm would tell stories of his hunts and visits to Oromë, which would always leave us in awe. I had come to particularly enjoy talking to him about all the languages he knew. It was fascinating how he was able to communicate with Arda’s animals. Next to him would be Huan, who was almost always sitting with us. Contrary to his owner, Huan had always been a rock when I had needed warmth and reassurance — something the Fëanorians didn’t know how to give when we had first met, because they had been very skeptical about how I had gotten to Arda and the fact that I, a mortal woman, had been courting their brother. Even when Celegorm had made me feel unsafe and preyed on, Huan had never once mimicked his owner’s behavior, instead being rather protective of me, which was something I would forever be grateful for. 

I proceeded to dip my feet into the cold water, curling and spreading my toes, feeling the liquid flow between them. It felt good, being able to think about my life and the people I had met in the past seven years without any anxiety bubbling up inside of me. It had taken me years to deal with the fact that I would never go back to my world and the depression that had come with that realization. Some nights though, I would close my eyes and think back to the times when I would meet my friends and go out. I would think about the countless evenings that we would spend in bars and the wild nights we would have in clubs. All the long conversations we would have on the phone, the picnics in the parks and concerts on warm summer evenings like today. Cooking together and goofing around on social media. I always wondered if they had forgotten me. If I had been pronounced dead back home. If they all had finished their studies and were now working the jobs they had always wanted. I tried not to have as many thoughts about my family, since they were the ones that would usually trigger my panic attacks, but I always found myself yearning to be held in my mother’s embrace. To be surrounded by her comforting smell and feel the gentleness of her hands caressing me. To hear my sisters laugh when my father was joking around. 

The pain would never subside. The emptiness was always with me, like a gaping hole that would never be filled, no matter how much love I received. 

I got up, wet feet on cool grass, to make my way back into the house before my husband would panic and send a search party to look for me. 

He was incredibly protective of me, it was ridiculous sometimes. I was grateful for it, though. A protective Caranthir was a knight in shining armor for me and a nightmare for everyone else. 

The sound of the river became but the same background noise I had heard in bed as I followed the path which I came from. I felt the grass and soil stick to my feet. It was an unpleasant feeling, just like the sand that would get into your bathing suit when you were at the beach. I would clean it when I got back to the house. 

Reaching the back door, I turned around one last time and took in the smell of the flowers and grass and the darkened colors interacting with the silver starlight. My safe place. 

Lifting my hand into the air, I let my fingers dance with the wind. It was playing around, like an invisible ribbon that was wrapping itself around them, as if it was trying to keep me from leaving. 

I smiled fondly at the feeling, before turning around and closing the door behind me. 

The long hallway was quiet when I walked back to our chambers, at least for a minute. Restless footsteps were heard from the other end of it, making me stop dead in my tracks and listen. From the shadows emerged the silhouette of my husband. When our eyes met, his tensed muscles visibly relaxed and he hurried towards me. 

"Melmenya, are you alright?" 

He looked concerned, his bright grey eyes searching my face for any sign of discomfort. His dark hair was flowing down his shoulders. There was no braid holding it in place, meaning he must have completely forgotten about it when he had realized that I wasn’t by his side. I silently cursed myself for worrying him. 

"I’m fine, my love." 

He sighed, closing his eyes for a second, and I couldn’t help but stare up at him lovingly. He would always worry about me when I got out of his sight. The independent part of me found it unnecessary but the hopeless romantic part would swoon every time he behaved like that. 

When he opened them again and noticed my gaze, he blushed furiously. My heart felt like it was about to explode. I found great pride in the fact that I managed to reduce him to a blushing, stuttering mess just by looking at him. 

Caranthir the Dark. The harshest and quickest to anger. 

He was so much more than that. I loved the way his emotions would flow into everything he said and did. Even when there were no words spoken out loud, his face and enchanting eyes told me everything I needed to know. He was a passionate person. An open book, if you will, but at the same time closed off and unattainable. Often unable to keep his feelings under control, hence the bad temper. There was something about the way he carried and expressed himself, the intensity of his emotions, that had me completely captivated. 

The redness on his face spread down to his neck when I got on my tiptoes and tucked a strand of hair behind one of his pointy ears, my gaze lingering on the pattern of his freckles in contrast to his pale skin that was now a lovely shade of pink. My precious ellon. 

His arms gently wound themselves around my waist and pulled me into his tall frame. Burying my face into his chest, I inhaled his scent. 

"Let’s go back to bed, hm?" 

He drew back and took my hand in his, smiling coyly. I just nodded, mirroring his facial expression. 

Back in our chambers, after having gotten cleaned up, I climbed into bed and opened my arms, silently inviting him into my embrace. He didn’t hesitate to lay his head on my chest, hands settling around my torso. His brothers would tease him until the end of time if they saw him. Caranthir, the toughest, meanest, letting himself be held. I could practically hear Celegorm making fun of him for being such a softie. It was a good thing they would never know about it, then.

Everything fell silent. 

The window was closed now, enough cool air had gathered in the room. The drapes were no longer dancing, having grown tired from their duet with the wind. Only the stars were ever so present, their light soothingly streaming down onto our entangled bodies. I closed my eyes at the warmth my husband was providing me with, both physically and mentally. And even though his body heat was beginning to kill me again, I felt content. At ease. Safe. 

I felt the exhaustion taking over me so suddenly that I almost didn’t notice him say something. It had come out muffled, making me hum questioningly. He shifted, placing his chin on my collarbone and kissing my cheek affectionately.

"I love you."

His breath was warm against my neck. A tired smile graced my lips at those three familiar words. 

"I love you too, Carnistir." 

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

Hii! Me again. Celegorm headcanons?

i am so excited to talk about my trash son; you have no idea how happy you're making me here :DD

he's only a little shorter than Maedhros (second tallest in the family, go him!), but he comes off as taller because a. he's broader and stockier in build, b. his hair gives him a certain--and frequently intimidating--amount of added height, and c. he is literally and figuratively taking up the space of three to four people at any given time.

he’s very athletic and also a very, very sore loser. the moment he’s not the best on the field, he’s moving on to something else. it’s kind of the same with everything he does.

mr. mommy issues of the Fëanorian kiddos! his relationship with Nerdanel is difficult through his childhood and adolescence and only gets worse post-Valinor. she was the only person growing up who really pushed accountability and a recognizing-when-we’ve-messed-up-and-making-amends-accordingly mentality, and Celegorm interprets this more and more as rejection, especially with the stark contrast of Fëanor’s “we’re always in the right” take on things, and Curufin’s single-minded subscription to that.

early on, he gets a reputation as the dumb one in the family, which is something he actually goes along with and conforms to, because it makes people get careless with their guard around him. most of the information Curufin gets is actually through Celegorm, they just put forward the illusion that Curufin’s the sneaky dangerous one and Celegorm’s just a kind of party-boy goofball with fuzz for brains so that people get their priorities mixed up. 

he’s the only one who really hesitates about going along with the Oath, and in general, he’s the most skeptical and least hero-worshipping towards Fëanor. as third kid after Proper Noldorin Golden Child & Heir™️ Maedhros and Obvious Genius Since He Was Born Maglor, he didn’t get as much special attention and never had the kind of bonding Mae and Mags could have through scholarship or craft or talent. he knows, even though no-one would ever say it, that he’s the misfit in the family; that the expectations for him have always been lower, which is what gives him his more dispassionate and removed perspective.

he sort of keeps worshipping Oromë in Beleriand, but he keeps it very much on the down-low. everyone just politely pretends not to know about it if they find out.

his smile freaks people out, even when its genuine. maybe especially when its genuine. it just looks too big for his face and never seems quite right.

he likes knife-throwing and is actually really good

he’s Celebrimbor’s favorite uncle and will talk about him in the same way as a grandmother on a plane pulling out her wallet to show you pictures of her grandchildren. 

his relationship with Curufin gets progressively more co-dependent and unhealthy over their time in Beleriand. they simultaneously can’t function separately and hate each other more than anyone else in the world. there’s also definitely a healthy (perhaps not the best expression here, pardon me) dose of sexual stuff going on between them, especially during their stint in Nargothrond.

Celegorm’s strategy in Beleriand is to just Not Care. “you can’t be morally corrupt if you don’t subscribe to ideas of morality anymore” is kind of his logic. he doesn’t ever seek to justify his actions, he just does them and then shrugs it off. he buries any guilt so well that he eventually starts enjoying watching people jump when comes into a room.

he’s the child-snatching bogeyman in lots and lots of Sindarin ghost stories and cautionary tales. towards the end, he even starts purposely acting and dressing like he’s described to frighten people even more.

he gets wild adrenaline kicks. his hobbies get more and more dangerous as his emotional state goes downhill. 

he absolutely hates Orodreth. the whole time they’re in Nargothrond, he’s going out of his way to mess with him or make him the butt of the joke. he takes a lot of joy from frightening Orodreth and purposely gets really friendly and chummy with Finduilas to make him constantly nervous that Celegorm is planning on doing something awful to her or that he’s done it already. he and Orodreth do have somewhat of a sexual relationship, but it’s just meant as another way to kind of make Orodreth’s life hell.

anyways, i’m cutting it off here because i could talk forever about my horrible boy, so thank you again for letting me blibber on. i am spiritually buying you chocolate and flowers and delivering them to your door.

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

re: narrative favorism -- ok so while i can't speak for anyone who reblogged, my original post was in reference to the first option only, because the idea that beren and luthien's actions were in any capacity equal to the feanorians' is preposterous. the worst, the very very worst, that they did to the feanorians is refuse to return something that belonged to them by property rights. (although this claim is unconvincing too, for the sake of exploring beren and luthien's alleged wrongs, i'll speak under the hypothetical assumption that it has validity.) beren and luthien never kidnapped any of the feanorians, they never tried to force any of the feanorians to marry into their family for political gain, they never tried to kill any of the feanorians after the feanorians choose to spare their lives when they have beren and luthien at their mercy. the supposed wrongdoings on both sides to each other aren't even remotely comparable. even if people do believe that thingol/luthien/beren/dior wronged the feanorians, it's preposterous and frankly a little concerning to claim that the attitude "she got her hands on something that was stolen from me and didn't return it so now we're even after i tried to force her to marry me :)" is justified. and yet!

the most morally questionable thing beren and luthien have done with regards to the silmaril has nothing to do with the feanorians. it's their involvement with the battle of sarn athrad to slaughter the dwarves of nogrod. luthien didn't fight in it, obviously, but one can assume that she was in agreement with beren's actions. (tangent here, but funnily enough, i've mostly seen this brought up secondarily to their supposed crime of keeping the silmaril from the feanorians -- you'd think if one wanted to do a genuine, holistic exploration of beren and luthien's morality, their primary topic would be the premeditated violence that they had some degree of involvement in.) this is far from saintly, but still not equal to anything the feanorians have done. the dwarves of nogrod killed thingol, then later mablung and other unnamed iathrim in the process of looting menegroth and making off with its treasure. meanwhile, the feanorians attack and kill people who have never done a single thing to them so they can steal and use their property, then proceed to burn said property after they're done with it; they kidnap someone they've never interacted with with the intention of, at generous best, forcibly marrying her into the family, and at worst, raping her; after that person escapes they try to kidnap her again, and when that doesn't work, they try to kill her; they ambush and mass murder a kingdom and displace the survivors (among which was a literal three year old child who is now an orphan thanks to them, and neither is there any indication that elwing was the only child whose family was slaughtered); and years later they attack a group of refugees (among whom is the same three year old child that they previously displaced and orphaned, who had to grow up without her family because they/their servants killed her family) and commit another bloodbath. and these are what people genuinely argue are equally condemnable actions?

re: character assassination -- i'm aware of the changes made to celegorm from the draft, but that goes back to the point of the post. tolkien changed the draft to the canon version for a reason. every character's role, and every revision tolkien made, is a vehicle for the themes that he wanted the narrative to convey. prototype celegorm is not canon celegorm, and tolkien replaced prototype celegorm with canon celegorm because he judged that the storyline it created better expressed those themes. and i'd be fine if the two were kept separate and the only complaint was "i wish this hadn't been changed, i like prototype celegorm more" -- but what i see is people using prototype celegorm to defend canon celegorm, using prototype celegorm to rag on beren and luthien's story as it's presented in canon, and/or claiming to like canon celegorm while simultaneously declaring that his actions in beren and luthien aren't real and what is real is prototype celegorm. which is a funny stance to take. celegorm's actions in beren and luthien aren't just some throwaway moments that are overall meaningless, they're a pivotal part of his arc, the point at which he falls so low that the character that serves as his close companion and for him a physical embodiment of one of his most recognizable aspects (his affinity for nature and his friendship with orome, a vala), turns against him. and as if that weren't significant enough, said character dies fighting side by side with beren, a man that celegorm hates. if there's a chapter in the silmarillion where celegorm most takes center stage, it's chapter 19, and if there's a story in the verse where he has the most focus, it's the lay of leithian. in other words, a large part of his canon character is shaped by his actions in beren and luthien, and if you can't accept them and you want to substitute them with prototype celegorm's actions instead, then you don't like celegorm -- you like prototype celegorm. i don't understand why people act otherwise. it's like insisting that you really love apples and they're your favorite food while presenting the large number of candy apples you eat per day as evidence of that. in the same way, i fully get why people love celegorm -- i love celegorm -- but using prototype celegorm interchangeably with him when it's convenient is not going to convince me that you do.

re: the rape attempt -- while celegorm certainly had predatory intentions toward luthien and was attracted to her, it's explicitly stated in the silm that wanting to marry her had political motivations too. thingol is, if not the de-facto king of all the sindar, at the very least immensely respected by all of them. he displays a great deal of influence and soft power throughout beleriand, and it genuinely would be extraordinarily beneficial to celegorm and curufin if they were able to ally with him. their idea was to eventually unite all elves under themselves, take on morgoth, and reclaim the silmarils that way.

re: interpretation -- i have mixed opinions. i'm in full agreement that tolkien would have encouraged various interpretations of the legendarium. i have interpretations of the silm's events too -- you kind of have to, given its style. but i also generally have trouble taking the "it's just my interpretation" point seriously, because in so many cases it's just a flimsy veneer for shoehorning in another story altogether while trying to make said story look even remotely believable and based in canon. as you said, of course, the idea that dragons are not evil in tolkien / that the feanorians were justified falls within that category. i can say "i think fingon and maedhros' relationship was never the same after the helcaraxe and while they still care for each other, fingon going to the lengths he did to save maedhros was primarily out of familial and moral obligation," and i can say "i don't think it was celegorm and curufin's initial intention for finrod to die, they just wanted to stop him from helping beren and take control of nargothrond." i cannot say "fingon wasn't really the one who saved maedhros, that was just propaganda to give the houses of feanor and fingolfin a sense of unity, however frail, again," nor can i say "celegorm and curufin actually supported finrod's decisions but they were rewritten in history as being villains who pushed him to his doom." i mean, i can, but that's not me being a fan of the silmarillion, it's me being a fan of the silmarillion: edition where i change what is stated to happen so that the story caters to my tastes and conforms to what i consider most satisfying and engaging. and i wish i could say i was exaggerating, but i have seen takes that go to those kinds of extremes. the crux is, for an "interpretation" argument to be believable, there has to be a certain degree of adherence to the material given, otherwise there's no point in the author taking the time to create and lay out that material in the first place. and going as far as "this is the real version and what was told in canon is wrong" is, to me, an unreasonable and unproductive approach to consuming media. the story that was written... didn't actually go as it was written? then why in the world did the irl author bother to write it as they did at all? this is not just in the silm fandom, either -- i can count at least five fandoms i'm in or have been in with people making a similar claim, and no matter how many times i see it, it's still perplexing. and in all of those instances that attitude is rooted in a sense of "i'm not happy with how the story went because it did abc to this character, i want it to go a different way because this character should get xyz instead." which again goes back to the original point of the post, i suppose. the author did not give that character xyz, they gave them abc, and they did it for a reason. why are you bothering to engage with the story if you fundamentally disagree with what it's putting down

people whining about how beren and luthien have favoritism from the narrative will never not be funny to me like yes. this is a fictional plot created by someone, the author. that author will have a story they want to tell and a message they want to convey. to tell that story, to convey that message, that author will have created protagonists whom the plot centers on, and whom other characters are meant to parallel, foil, complement, and contrast. the purpose of the story and of the other characters is to illustrate and serve the protagonists' journey, so of course the protagonists will have narrative favoritism. that narrative quite literally exists for their sake and for their development. if you don't like the fact that the protagonists are the ones with whom the narrative sides then just don't engage with the fucking story

[outofangband]

Hi! I saw your post about Húrin and co’s pain tolerance, could you possibly do one for the Fëanorians? Thx

Pain Tolerance of Húrin, Morwen and family

Fëanorians when sick or injured headcanons which have some overlap!

General headcanon: Most of the family is pretty athletic, to varying degrees and in varying activities 

General headcanon I headcanon elves have a somewhat different nervous and sensory system to humans in part because speculative biology is fun. Feel free to ask more as always! Philosophical approaches to pain and suffering vary across the cultures of both

General note: I’ve divided pain tolerance into these categories:

Physical pain tolerance: how much its pressure/impact/etc actually causes pain, how sensitive one is to showing physical subconscious indicators of pain, and their physical endurance

Emotional pain tolerance: how much pain does one take before it has a significant impact on their morale, how much before it’s very upsetting

Maedhros has always had a pretty high emotional tolerance and moderate to high physicalr pain tolerance. In Valinor he enjoys some athletic activities, riding, exploring and swimming but he was never particularly interested in the rigorous training Celegorm and the twins did. For obvious reasons his pain tolerance is put to the absolute test in Angband Afterwards his physical pain tolerance is somewhat higher in some areas of his body and far lower in others. This varies based on the injuries including nerve damage and exposure to poisons has suffered. But more so he doesn’t speak about it his pain or discomfort. He was never particularly prone to complaining but it’s almost nonexistent after Angband. He has much less of a sense of normal, safe or healthy level pain for a given activity and even less of an ability to voice pain or discomfort. I talked about in a few metas, mostly in Complex Trauma and Safety, Comfort, and Pain but one overlooked aspect of captivity and torture is how deeply it affects one’st ability to express distress, to complain, to speak up. I don’t really think I can emphasize enough how demoralizing it is to be in a place where nothing you say means anything. Yeah, I know I’ve talked a lot about this but it’s an important thing to me 

My Maedhros and Touch headcanons on my second headcanon masterlist have some more on this and as always feel free to ask more!

Maglor has low physical pain tolerance but his ability to endure pain without it having a great affect on him while lower earlier in life grows during his time in Beleriand. Towards the end of his life it lessens again and his dexterity becomes more severely affected

Celegorm has high physical and emotional pain tolerance. He’s very athletic and enjoys pushing himself to perhaps unsafe limits. He does handle pain unrelated to activities he enjoys less gracefully later on in life, becoming more prone to lashing out and irritation.

Caranthir has relatively low physical and emotional pain tolerance. He likes things to be comfortable and pain is distressing and frustrating, which he also does not like.

Curufin has pretty high relatively high physical pain tolerance but when his limits are reached he quickly becomes short and agitated especially with others.

Amras and Amras were among the more interested in athletics, sports and hunting which increases if not their physical pain tolerance than at least their willingness to endure pain during another pursuit and their emotional response to it. I headcanon Amras has higher physical pain tolerance

[athelise]

I posted 387 times in 2022

That's 297 more posts than 2021!

118 posts created (30%)

269 posts reblogged (70%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@vixenofcourse

@babybinxxx

@sakucrossing

@rabidbehemoth

I tagged 326 of my posts in 2022

Only 16% of my posts had no tags

#itasaku - 99 posts

#take the compliment - 50 posts

#dead dove do not eat - 49 posts

#sakura haruno - 38 posts

#itachi x sakura - 36 posts

#naruto - 34 posts

#ttc - 28 posts

#itasaku darkfic - 24 posts

#itachi uchiha - 20 posts

#darkfic - 14 posts

Longest Tag: 75 characters

#it's my favorite scene in the whole trilogy i feel very strongly about this

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Chapters: 44- True Panic Fandom: Naruto Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Itachi

“She brought that out of him easily, he found as he walked back to the reception area, finding her gone yet again. She instilled panic and longing and relief so sharp it cut the lungs when he was unaccustomed to more than mild annoyance. He sometimes resented how much she made him feel, what she did to him.”

23 notes - Posted September 28, 2022

#4

Chapters: 40 “Nothing Personal” Fandom: Naruto Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Itachi

“If he was there, everything was fine. Was going to be fine. He’d promised her.”

28 notes - Posted September 2, 2022

#3

Jake Lockley

Okay but the fact that Marc and Steven have no idea that Jake exists means he does his job??? Amazingly well?? A killer more brutal than a mercenary, so vicious and dangerous even Marc is disturbed by the carnage left behind? No memory or recall of what happened?

Pristine mental protection. Marc protects Steven, but it's Jake who protects Marc.

41 notes - Posted May 29, 2022

#2

One of the craziest parts in The Silmarillion to me is the Ruin of Doriath. To be fair, the Curse of the Children of Hurin really kicks the whole story into overdrive, but this is a favorite of mine.

So, Thingol receives the Nauglamir from a disgruntled Hurin, gets it remade + Silmaril, he is killed, and following the Sack of Menegroth and the revenge of the Sindar, Luthien keeps the necklace. Now, within that time, I'm guessing B&L already had Dior while in Ossiriand, so maybe he was a young child or even a teen when Thingol died and maybe a lil bit of time passed before Dior ascended the Throne.

Now, I got the impression when Beren went out to stop the Dwarves that he was already an old man, but maybe he was middle aged?

Fast forward, when B&L finally die (implied that they did so together) and the Nauglamir is delivered to him, Dior is already established as King. We can assume this is maybe 20 years later? 30? How long was it?? In that time, he has already married Nimloth (who was waaaaay older than him, I might add), and maybe even had all three of his children: the twins Elured and Elurin, and the famous Elwing.

The Sons of Feanor come knocking like, "Soooo, can we have that? It's kind of ours? Pretty please? (Don't make us kill you?)"

Dior says, "No, it's ours. #TwoTreesLightTherapy for Menegroth. My mommy and daddy won this. Fuck off."

Now, he is conveniently forgetting that Doriath no longer has its girdle of protection, and foolishly thought his circumstances would in anyway excuse them from the Oath of Feanor, and so when SoF came a-knockin', it wasn't very polite.

Dior, MAYBE 50 years old, MAX, faces off against his mom's one-time would-be-suitor, (that's a mouthful), Celegorm, and they kill each other. Lots of fire, lots more sacking, some child endangerment and regret, and Elwing gets away with the Silmaril to the Fallas where she later meets Earendil and the other refugees of Gondolin.

In the book, I always got a weird temporal impression with this section. In the average Silmarillion kinghood deal, normally takes maaaaybe 100 years, but with the death of B&L at presumably decent HUMAN ages, it leaves me thinking of Dior as basically a boy king.

72 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Y'all....

it's here.

It. Is. Here.

Presenting.....

The first commission for "Take The Compliment"... by dolly_daughter on Twitter (https://twitter.com/dolly_daughter)...

presenting...

HWAAAAAAAAAAAAA

LOOKIT LOOKIT LOOKIT!!!!

BEHOLD!

THE BEAUTY! HIS HAND! HER DRESS!!

I have been quiet about this for a little over a month and I could NOT wait to share it! But I did, and I hope you all enjoy her works!

I'm in heaven. I have ascended. I am deceased. Go follow her!

277 notes - Posted August 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[balrogballs]

“The world rearranges itself after each shattering, shuffles its deck, and once again I am helpless to understand the new order of things. Where will I keep these stories now, hm? The afternoons and mornings we spent in one another’s lives, a pocketful of each other’s days coming through by first class post each month. You and I turned the most mundane mundanities into legend. And now all these stories are rattling around inside my head like undreamed dreams. Who will I write to now, Arwen? When Celegorm inevitably gets arrested again for naming yet another dog after Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, who will I tell?”

Chapter 6 of Prayers to Broken Stone: In an unsent birthday letter to Arwen, Maedhros reflects on Fëanor, famine, and the ways in which stories cross borders | Word count: 3500~ | Read on AO3

honestly this chapter took a LOT out of me to write due to the amount of autofictional elements in the Arwen plotline and I am quite literally a battered ram having finished it but am glad it is out there and hope it does not read awful 😢

[veliseraptor]

top 5 brotps?

oh boy let’s see here. okay okay okay okay. the hard one here is like...do I include things where I also ship them non-platonically?? and I decided to go with “fine to do so but it’s gotta be things where the primary interest is brotpdom”

1. Thor & Loki. Look, I had to. I just...there’s a lot there, there’s a lot there, a lot of it alarmingly personal and emotionally fraught for me personally, and I have accepted that about myself and it is still very true. The pain and love and dysfunction, all of it blown up to very dramatic levels - way beyond what would be “reasonable” obviously because these are characters written to be larger than life - and yet still recognizable to me in...yeah, alarmingly personal ways.

Never forget the long conversation I had with a couple friends about my childhood that ended with “no wonder you like Loki so much.” And a lot of why I like Loki so much? Has a lot to do with his relationship with Thor.

2. Jiang Cheng & Wei Wuxian. Get into a show for the gay, come out if it with a new pair of (martial) siblings, is my motto. Here we have not only the deep feelings and dysfunction going on, the relationship rupture that’s deep and difficult and ugly, but also the sheer ambiguity of their relationship to each other and what its status is, and the way that their mutual dysfunctions align perfectly to make everything between them even more dysfunctional.

I love a pair where both people are equally but differently fucked up and how that plays into the way they relate to each other and that is so much about Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng. They’re a mess and I love them.

3. Felix Harrowgate & Mildmay. What’s a brotp that doesn’t involve undertones of incest, or overtones of, actually, though some of that is the sublimated connection between love and sex in Felix’s head and anyway, I love these two, they’re having a horrible time all of the time and are often very miserable and honestly, I just have a thing for codependent siblings who mean a lot to each other while simultaneously having an excruciatingly fucked up relationship, which fits these two to a T. And just! The arc of their relationship, too!

Sarah Monette gave me, specifically, a gift with these two and their relationship arc and I’m never going to be over it.

4. Celegorm & Curufin. The terrible twosome! Two brothers who love each other very much and are also not particularly good influences on each other! But who needs a good influence when you have love and a fucked up family legacy you’re trying to live up to?

Anyway I’m always on some level up in my Celegorm and Curufin feelings and particularly how I think about their relationship developing over the course of The Silmarillion and becoming both more codependent and more strained over time. They do everything together! Including, eventually, die.

And thinking about them is making me want to write Silm fic again. No, Lise, that’s the devil talking.

5. This one was harder because it’s less obvious to me another that’s, like, on this level? But ultimately I decided to go with a current fandom one and do Mu Qing & Xie Lian. Which is kind of an outlier because their relationship is not really like others on this list! It’s closest to Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian’s in some ways, but it’s very different - the status differential, for one, is an even greater factor and stress point between these two than it is with Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng. And their relationship is...it spends more time being bad (or at least, not great) than it does being good. But I just...it is important to me, in its messiness (yes, again!) and its dysfunction (again!) and the ways in which Xie Lian knows Mu Qing very well, and values him, and the ways that Mu Qing both resents and cares deeply about Xie Lian.

This is one of those archetypal relationships for me, too, where I’m like but I want more because there is more, I want to know where they go post-canon, where they leave things at the end of TGCF proper is just a beginning.

Anyway this relationship is important to me and I wish people would do more with it in fic, obligatory plug for @curiosity-killed’s fic the reel of this life.

but this is of course leaving off a whole bunch of other possibilities, among which I could consider He Xuan and Hua Cheng, Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao (when it’s not Xue Yang/Jin Guangyao), almost all my Black Jewels Trilogy feelings, any number of dynamics where I’m not picky about form it takes but just like the character interactions...

it is funny to me that this list of brotps is characterized by three actual sibling relationships, one martial sibling relationship, and one outlier. I really went literal here, didn’t I.

[thescrapwitch]

4. a story idea you haven’t written yet

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

29. how easy is it for you to come up with titles?

from these asks

Thank you!

4. A story idea I haven't written yet:

Brightly Burning, my "Finduilas is Gil-Galad AU" fic, where Celebrimbor rescues Finduilas from the tree and takes her to Falas, where she remakes herself into the new High King of Middle Earth. Cue: secret identity angst, power-cousin trio of Celebrimbor-Finduilas-Idril, fierce little Elwing, and all the danger that the last half of the First Age brings. It will probably be a multi-chapter fic, so I want to finish a few of my other ones first before I commit to it.

18. A deleted sentence/paragraph from a published fic:

I tend to keep deleted/to-be-deleted bits at the very end of the fic document up until I post, just in case I suddenly realize that I want to put them in. Then I get rid of them. But! I do have a little bit from an earlier chapter of Reforged that escaped being deleted. Its was going to be from a conversation between Maeglin and Cirdan, but I never found a good spot for it. Here it is:

But Círdan had come to visit and Maeglin inwardly winced at the sight of him. Things were always much more difficult for Celebrimbor when Círdan was around. Círdan had raised Gil-Galad, was as much of a parent to him as Maglor had been to Elrond and Elros.

[stuff would have happened here that I never wrote so let's just pretend its a bunch of really good words]

“Celebrimbor is not his father,” said Maeglin.

“It is not Curufin that I see when I look at him,” said Círdan. “It is his grandfather, Fëanor, who he reminds me of the most. That same burning passion, that same determination to change the world, leaving us all with ashes.”

29. How easy is it to come up with titles:

Fairly easy! A few fics I've written came about because I was suddenly hit by a great title idea that I really wanted to use and so came up with a fic for (such as "Celegorm and Curufin Aren't Dead").

Only once or twice have I really been stuck on what to name a fic. I've started to look at either book titles for inspiration (which I did for a lot of the eldritch!Maglor series) or play around with "title starters" that I enjoy using. Ex: starting the title with "To" and then adding something the main character will be doing in the fic. I've used it in "To Carve Out Your Face", and I have plans to use it again twice more ("To Cast Your Heart Away" and "To Lose and Find Your Way".)

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Vice and Virtue in Tolkien’s Works

I’ve been rereading Dante’s Purgatorio (easily my favourite of the three sections, both for having a very satisfying structure and for its themes of repentance and reform), and the structure inspired this post. Each level of purgatory has images, words, or both, associated with the vice being reformed and its corresponding virtue (the examples being drawn both from the Bible and Greco-Roman history and mythology) and it gave me ideas for a discussion of similar themes in Tolkien’s works.

The structure is: 1) Pride/Humility; 2) Envy/Generosity of Spirit; 3) Wrath/Charity; 4) Sloth/Zeal); 5) Avarice/Simplicity; 6) Gluttony/Abstinence; 7) Lust/Romantic Love.

1) Pride/Humility

Saruman: Our time is at hand: the world of Men, which we must rule. But we must have power, power to order all things as we will, for that good which only the Wise can see.

Frodo: I will take the Ring, though I do not know the way.

This is easily the primary emphasis in Tolkien’s works. The fall of all his main villains (Morgoth, Sauron, Fëanor, the Númenoreans, Saruman) and as well as other non-villainous tragic characters (Túrin, Thingol, Turgon, Thorin, Denethor) is characterized by pride - the desire to be the one calling the shots, the desire for greatness and others’ recognition of that greatness, the refusal to listen to the advice or views of others.

It’s there in Melkor’s desire for his theme to be the only one heard in the Music; in Sauron’s desire to rule the world and arrange everything as he thinks best; in Fëanor’s determination to take any advice, correction, or disagreement as a personal attack, his desire for rulership in Middle-earth, and his attitude that the Silmarils are more important than anything anyone else has done or created; the late-stage Númenoreans’ campaign of imperialist conquest. It’s there in Túrin’s, Thingol’s, and Turgon’s rejection of good advice; in Thingol’s attitude towards other peoples, whether it’s Beren or the dwarves; in Denethor’s conviction that Gondor is the only place and people of any account in the war against Sauron.

Humility, in contrast, is mainly seen in the form of hobbits. None of them have any idea what they’re doing when they leave Rivendell (Sam and Pippin don’t even know where Mordor is), and they know they’ve got no idea. They’re not going because they see themselves as specially skilled or qualified, but because it needs to be done. And that’s the very reason Frodo can resist the Ring so long, and Sam can resist it, because they don’t have any grand ideas of themselves.

The ability to say I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’ll try to do what’s right is pretty crucial to humility; even members of the Fellowship who are far more experienced, skilled and knowledgeable than the hobbits show it. Aragorn says it, in the search for Merry and Pippin when they’re captured by orcs. Pride could easily say I need to go with the Ring-bearer, that’s the most important task or I need to go to Gondor and lead the war against Sauron as their King. But Aragorn lets himself trust in other people doing their parts, and focuses on rescuing his companions - the thing that no one else is a available to do - even as the chase seems increasingly hopeless. It’s also seen in Gandalf, who openly admitted he was scared to go when the Valar first sent him, and wandered around as an old man in a battered cloak and hat, talking with everyone, rather than setting himself up as a Respectable Dignified Authority Figure the way Saruman did.

The Silmarillion has fewer examples of humility than LOTR (perhaps why things turn out so much worse there) but there are a few in the Leithian. Lúthien is another case of saying I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’ll do it because no one else will when she sets off to rescue Beren. Finrod walks away from his crown and realm to help a friend.

2) Envy/Generosity of Spirit

Denethor: I will not step down to be the dotatd chamberlain of an upstart.

Faramir: My lord, you called me. I come. What does the king command?

Envy is akin to pride, but I’m characterizing it as being specifically the resentment of being surpassed (or even equalled) by another.

Fëanor is again a major example of this, specifically in his resentment of Fingolfin and of the descendents of Indis more generally. Peoples of Middle-earth notes that he resented the name Nolofinwë (Fingolfin’s Quenya name, roughly means ‘wise-Finwë or ‘learned-Finwë’) due to regarding himself as not only the most skilled of the Noldor at craftwork (which he was), but also the most skilled at lore/scholarship (which he wasn’t), and likewise resented the name Arafinwë (Finarfin’s Quenya name). He’s in a mental place of resenting anything positive that can be said about his brothers as if it inherently detracts from him. And he takes the same attitude towards Men (‘No other race shall oust us!’), treating their very existence as a threat to the Eldar. Losgar is the peak of this: he’s willing to sabotage his own war effort to prevent Fingolfin from participating. This is contasted with Maedhros’ attitude after being rescued by Fingon, when he willingly gives up the crown and, later, moves across Beleriand to the most exposed section of the northern border to avoid conflict. His own status isn’t his priority; peace with his family and the best interests of the war against Morgoth are his priorities.

Denethor is another major example, seeing both Aragorn’s return and Faramir’s respect for Gandalf as personal affronts to himself. (Gandalf points out that the literal job description of a steward is to be in charge until the king returns. When the king comes back, that means you’ve done your job, not that you’re being demoted. Denethor is not interested in hearing this.) He’s also mentioned in the Appendices to have resented the respect and admiration recieved by Thorongil [i.e. Aragorn in disguise] during the days of their youth. In very similar ways, Saruman resented the high regard that some (like Galadriel) had for Gandalf, and saw Gandalf as a rival. Thorongil and Gandalf were not interested in rivalry; they were more interested in what was achieved than in who was achieving it. Faramir is the contrast here - he is interested in the good of Gondor, not his own status, and has no jealousy of Aragorn.

3. Wrath/Charity

Fëanor: See, half-brother! This is sharper than thy tongue. Try but once more to usurp my place and the love of my father, and maybe it will rid the Noldor of one who seeks to be the master of thralls.

Gandalf: It was Pity that stayed Bilbo’s hand; Pity, and Mercy, not to strike without need.

I would say that this is the third-most-emphasized of the vices in Tolkien’s works, after pride and avarice. And, of course, another Fëanor example: both his threat on Fingolfin’s life and his actions during the Return of the Noldor, the latter being driven by wrath primarily against Morgoth and secondarily against everyone else in his vicinity (Valar! Teleri! Fingolfin and anyone who supports him!). It’s the spillover that’s the problem, and the self-centredness; hating Morgoth isn’t a problem in and of itself, but Fëanor’s taking the fight against evil and turning it into a personal vendetta, with disastrous consequences.

Túrin is another example, most particularly in three events: causing the death of Saeros, burning the hall of Brodda in Dor-lómin, and killing Brandir. The former two are provoked, the latter isn’t, but all of them are sudden deeds of anger that only serve to make matters worse.

The contrasting virtue is charity, mercy shown to people that you have good reason to be hostile towards. Fingon’s rescue of Maedhros. Lúthien’s sparing of Curufin when he and Celegorm attacked her and Beren. Frodo sparing Gollum and treating him with kindness and compassion.

4. Sloth/Zeal

Guard Hobbit: It won’t do no good talking that way. He’ll get to hear of it. And if you make so much noise, you’ll wake the Chief’s Big Man.

Merry: Shire-folk have been so comfortable so long they don’t know what to do. They just want a match, though, and they’ll go up in fire.

This is comparatively less of an emphasis in Tolkien’s works than some of the other pairings, but I can think of some examples. The best one is Saruman’s takeover of the Shire and the subsequent liberation. Sloth is the characteristic hobbit vice (not gluttony; I’ll get to that); they tend towards being comfortable and complacent and don’t like being bestirred. Even Frodo dawdled around for half a year after learning about the Ring, mostly because he was reluctant to go. And under first Lotho and then Saruman, everyone (except Tooks) more or less puts up with an abuses because they don’t want the trouble or danger of standing up against them. It’s the return of Merry, Pippin, Sam, and Frodo, who have experience fighting evil on a much larger scale (and who can organize things) that spurs them to stand up for themselves and their home.

5. Avarice/Simplicity

Celegorm: For the Silmarils we alone claim, until the world ends.

Gandalf: I wonder what has become of [the mithril-shirt]? Gathering dust still in Michel Delving Mathom-house, I suppose.

Avarice is, I would say, the second-most-emphasized vice in Tolkien’s works, after pride. The central conflicts in both The Silmarillion and The Lord of the Rings are objects (they’re in the titles!): the Silmarils and the Ring. The Oath is almost the strongest possible expression of avarice, the most extreme statement of this is mine that a person can make; The Ring is an even more extreme expression, as Sauron makes an object that is literally part of himself. And both conflicts are resolved through the renunciation of claim on these objects, in Eärendil’s journey to Valinor (and the Silmaril becoming a star that is seen by everyone and owned by no one) and Frodo and Sam’s mission to destroy the Ring.

The Silmarils themselves are not evil; they are good and hallowed objects, and fights between elves, dwarves, and men are the result of the Oath (the kinslayings) and the connection with the dragon-contaminated and Mîm-cursed treasure of Nargothrond (Thingol and the dwarves of Nogrod). The Ring is evil, and inducing avarice is its most basic power, even among people like Sméagol and Déagol who could never actually wield it; letting it go is incredibly difficult, and Bilbo and Sam are the only people in the history of the Ring ever to do it.

Avarice is also a central theme in The Hobbit, and dragon-treasure is specifically noted as provoking avarice in people who are in any way inclined towards that vice. Smaug is practically a physical manifestation of avarice in his rage over losing one small cup that he has no use for from an immense hoard, and both Thorin and the master of Lake-town fall prey to the dragon-sickness.

I’ve given ‘simplicity’ as the antonym, and I thought of ‘generosity’ as well, but neither of those is quite right. The opposite of avarice is holding lightly to things, and it’s a particular virtue of hobbits. This is seen both in their birthday parties (the tradition of giving away possessions) and the Michel Delving Mathom-house, a museum for old heirlooms that people feel they don’t need to have around. The most beautiful example is Bilbo’s mithril-shirt (worth more than the entire Shire!) spending some time sitting around there.

It’s worth nothing that the vice of avarice in Tolkien’s works isn’t associated with having stuff, just with holding to stuff. Bag End being comfortable isn’t a problem. The Noldor having piles of jewels isn’t a problem provided that they’re sharing them and letting them go, as in the Noontide of Valinor (gemstones scattered on the seashore!) or Finrod giving them away in Middle-earth. The issue comes when the owning becomes what a person values; the signal that Fëanor is becoming too tied to the Silmarils is when he prefers to lock them away so no one else can see them.

6. Gluttony/Abstinence

Gollum: He’ll eat us all, if he gets it, eat all the world!

The lembas had a virtue without which they would long ago have laid down to die. It did not satisfy desire...and yet this waybread of the Elves had a potency that increased as travellers relied on it alone and did not mingle it with other foods. It fed the will, and gave strength to endure...

Gluttony is distinguished from avarice as the desire to consume things, not merely accumulate them. This is an interesting one, because Tolkien has no issue with the consuption of large amounts of food for enjoyment (which hobbits do frequently and enthusiastically!). As with possessions, enjoyment of physical things isn’t seen as problematic. The enjoyment of everyday pleasures is specifically discussed as morally desirable in a way that contrasts with avaricious accumulation (“If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”)

However, there is one large (very, very large) example of the concept of gluttony as unlimited consumption and appetite: Ungoliant. Ungoliant represents not the hoarding of things, but their destruction, and is continually described with very physical terms of appetite and devouring. Shelob and the spiders of Mirkwood are lesser versions of the same concept. There are other mosters in the same vein: Sauron’s werewolves and Carcharoth. On of the names for Carcharoth is Anfauglir, the Jaws of Thirst, specifically invoking the idea of insatiable consumption.

And gluttony can be described more broadly as an form of overconsumption which uses up or destroys things; pollution could be a modern-day example. Looked at in that way, gluttony can be considered the end-stage of all evil in Tolkien, in the same way that pride is its beginning-stage. The ruin of the Anfauglith, the Desolation of the Morannon, the trees of Fangorn used to feed the fires of Isengard or hacked down for no purpose (and even Losgar, if you like) are all its work. Gollum (heavily driven by mundane hunger) grasps this when he fears Sauron regaining the Ring: “He’ll eat us all, if he gets it, eat all the world!” Ungoliant is the final stage of all evil.

In the same way that hobbits enjoying ample meals isn’t treated as a moral flaw, abstinence isn’t particularly notable as a virtue. However, it does come up in forms like Sam noting that lembas provides more endurance as the hobbits rely on it solely in their final journey to Mordor. This indicates that Tolkien regards the ability to go without physical pleasures when necessary as a virtue (also symbolized by Sam’s heartrending decision to give up his cooking gear!) but doesn’t place value on ascetism for its own sake.

If we want to expand on the metaphorical idea of gluttony as overconsumption/destruction, then we can also see healing/restoration as its opposing virtue, in forms like the box of soil that Galadriel gives Sam, which he uses to restore the trees of the Shire.

7. Lust/Romantic Love

Celegorm became enamoured of [Lúthien]...they purposed to let the King perish, and to keep Lúthien, and force Thingol to give her hand to Celegorm.

Beren: Though all to ruin fell the world, and were dissolved and backward hurled, unmade into the old abyss, yet were its making good, for this - the dusk, the dawn, the earth, the sea - that Lúthien for a time should be.

Lust is often regarded simply as a term for physical attraction, and its condemnation as a type of prudishness, but I’m going to present a different take, one that draws on its connection with the two preceding vices (the three are consistently grouped together by Dante). Lust is when the two previous desires, of ownership and consumption/use, are applied not to objects but to a person.

It’s an extremely rare vice among elves, with only a few examples in Elvish history: Celegorm, Eöl, Maeglin. In all cases, there is sexual desire combined with the desire for control, turning to violence when that control is thwarted: Celegorm’s imprisonment of Lúthien in the attempt to force her to marry him, and the later assault on her and Beren; Eöl’s restrictions on Aredhel and murder of her when she leaves him; Maeglin’s attempt to kidnap Idril during the Fall of Gondolin.

In contrast, the examples of romantic love, which are primarily the elf-human couples and especially Beren and Lúthien, combine desire with value for the freedom and identity of the beloved, and with self-sacrifice (or willingness to take on risks) for their sake. Beren’s song before setting out for Angband is a celebration of Lúthien’s existence, irrespective of what may happen to him. Lúthien counters with the expression that she does not want to exist apart from him, and purpose of lovers is to act together and to guard and support each other. Elwing runs through the waves to Eärendil on the shores of Valinor because she would rather face the same risks he does than be safe apart from him. Eärendil accepts immortality for love of Elwing. Arwen accepts death for love of Aragorn.

[theelvenhaven]

Hey, i really love your "Dating Celegorm - Shy & Sweet S/O" post. Its so annoyingly sweet if you know what i mean, and it really sounds just like Celegorm ^^

"when it comes to dating Celegorm you are going to have someone who is constantly testing and pushing your boundaries someway or another." I felt that, since i am shy myself and i always seem to have that someone, whether it be a friend or family, that always trys to push my boundaries, so its not gonna be something new ;) but still a little annoying at times nevertheless 😭

"Celegorm likes to pick playfully at all your words, pressing you into telling him why you won’t do or say something". Literally, one of the most annoying thing someone could do to me!! It just irritates me to no end, and embarrasses me 😅

Overall its a very good post, i liked it so much. Well done 🖤

05.14.2021

Aw! 💖 thank you! I’m so glad you enjoyed it 💖

Yeah I picture Celegorm very much an antagonistic type of person. Always trying to press everyone’s buttons somehow. And being a shyer s/o doesn’t leave you to any exceptions!

But again I am so happy to hear that you enjoyed it! 💖