#the valar are STUPID and MEAN

[wethecelestial]

just saw someone point out how weird it is that the statue of the elf and the dog in lindon in trop (who i assumed was luthien bc like...who else) has a star of feanor on its chest

which like. i mean obviously the star is there bc somebody just didn't think this through beyond "oh this looks cool." BUT i think it is very funny to imagine that in the trop parallel universe, instead of becoming cautionary tales about hubris and ghost stories that parents use to scare their children into behaving, the feanorians have just become like. completely divorced from their political and historical motivations and the devastating consequences of their actions on people's actual lives and are instead now just like: Thee Fashionable Aesthetic. fashion designers sticking an eight-pointed star on everything to show that they're EDGY and PROVOCATIVE and NOT LIKE OTHER ELVES. showing up to elf school with the star of feanor on your shirt is the equivalent of that one kid in high school who always wore a che guevara shirt to class and told your teacher that they didn't do the homework because They Aren't Gonna Be Part Of The System, Man,

[sweetteaanddragons]

Happy Thanksgiving! In celebration, have an awkward family dinner scene from my current WIP.

“You know,” Earwen said, taking a careful sip of her wine, “you could petition the Valar.”

This was not a new concept. It had not been tried recently, but Nerdanel still had to pause in her meal for a moment to poke at just why Earwen was presenting it so cautiously.

“On what grounds?” She had certainly tried everything she could think of.

“Precedence, mainly. It is not so different from the case of Finwe and Miriel.”

Arafinwe sat with his fork half frozen between his plate and his mouth. Nerdanel felt half frozen herself, trying to understand. How could the statute of Finwe and Miriel possibly be similar to her own case?

“I know you might not have anyone in mind now,” Earwen continued, “but it might help to already have your right established.”

Her right. Her right to -

To do what everyone had been so insistent she do.

Get up. 

Smile.

Move on.

She could get up. She could smile. She could - move.

But to move on? To take someone else in his place?

She was furious with him. Incandescently so. She wanted to claw out those clever, unsatisfied eyes. She wanted to bite out his beautiful, poisonous tongue. She wanted to pour molten rock over him and let it settle around him until he could never move from its confines again.

But to move on? To take someone else?

She imagined someone coming to Feanaro after his vaults had been torn open and telling him it was alright, really, that the Silmarils were gone; look, they had all these pieces of lovely shattered glass, and he was welcome to take his pick between them.

“I could remarry, you mean,” she said, and Feanaro would have known that just because her voice was still, it did not mean she said it calmly. “Have children again, even.”

“If you liked,” Earwen said, though her own voice was careful now.

Nerdanel sipped her wine. “I do not know why you do not take your own advice. You would not even have to appeal to the Valar for it; no one would have the slightest right to object to you and Arafinwe having another child. Then it wouldn’t matter that Aegnor is never going to come out of the Halls.”

Earwen’s face went white.

“Excuse me,” Nerdanel said and left.

. . .

She was already packed by the time Arafinwe came to her room. She had steadied by then, though not calmed.

“She meant well, and I did not,” she conceded without looking up from securing the last of her things. “I won’t trouble you till I’ve thought up a proper apology.”

Everyone remembered that she had fought with Feanaro. No one ever seemed to remember that if it had just been Feanaro raging, it would not have been a fight.

“Please don’t leave,” Arafinwe said wearily, leaning against the door. “We’ve had quite enough of that.”

“It’s what I do,” she said shortly. Hear something horrible. Say something horrible. Leave.

Not come back until it was too late, and he had already sworn that stupid Oath.

He scrubbed a hand across his face. “As your apology to me,” he clarified, “please at least wait until morning.”

She paused.

He looked so very tired.

“Alright,” she conceded. She sank down on top of her bags. “Do you think I should move on?”

It was poking at a bruise for no good reason. Her answer wouldn’t change for him. 

But she wanted to know just how long she should take to come up with an apology.

“I have no right to tell you how to handle your personal affairs,” he said, and for a moment, he sounded like her king, gracefully holding himself to the limits of his power.

She scowled at him.

“No right,” he repeated. “And if you want to - to never make another statue of him and run off to join the choir in Alqualonde, I will be the last to tell you otherwise.”

“But?”

“But if you came back and told me you wished to remarry, I think I would offer you the crown of the Noldor not to,” he admitted. “As much as he would laugh to hear one of my mother’s children speak against it. Right now it is only the verdict of the Valar that he may never return, and the Valar have changed their minds before. If we should lock that door forever . . . “

It was probably immaterial anyway. The Valar had needed Miriel’s permission to allow Finwe’s remarriage; Feanaro, surely, would not give it.

Surely. Surely she still meant more to him than that.

She did not wish to bare that corner of her soul tonight, not even to Arafinwe. Instead, she confessed to an easier thing.

“When I was pregnant with the twins,” she said, staring at the ceiling, “it was - difficult. More difficult than any of the other births had been. I had half lost myself by the end.”

“I remember,” he said softly.

That surprised her; she did not remember him from then at all, but she supposed that only supported her point. “I was convinced I was going to die, and I was in no state to think clearly about it. I swore to him over and over that I would come back, that the very moment Namo allowed it I would come back, that he would not need to be patient long.”

Some irrational part of her had been terrified that they would lie to him; that they would say she had refused the call of life while she was desperately pounding on Mandos’s walls.

When she had been saner, she had known the fearful fancies for what they were. But in the midst of them . . . 

“He kept promising that I wasn’t going to die, of course.” And he had been right about that, though it was the only one of their arguments that she would concede now. “But when that didn’t settle me, he told me that he believed me, and that if it took me a hundred thousand years to return, he would believe me still and wait.”

She had never doubted that promise. Even when they had burned everything else between them, she had believed that promise. In their worst moments, it had been because she was sure he would never concede any ground whatsoever to Indis’s marriage, but she had still believed it.

She hadn’t returned the promise. She hadn’t thought she would need to.

But now here she was, still standing, and the Valar promising that he would never, ever return.

It was not yet a hundred thousand years.

And when it had been, she would keep his promise in his stead and still wait.

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

Legolas: *sees a bunch of people do stupid shit* Okrea, save their souls. Akami, give me the patience to endure these fools.

Elladan: Why do you do that?

Legolas: do what?

Elladan: why do you invoke “Okrea” and “Akami”?

Legolas: ... because Okrea is the godess of exploration (regardless of how stupid it is) hence me praying to them to help those souls. And Akami is the goddess of war, hence my patron as a warrior?

Elrohir: what my brother means to ask is: why do you pray to these ‘gods’ who you’ve never seen, instead of the valar, whom you know exist?

Legolas: because i know the valar exist, and that’s exactly why i don’t pray to them.

Elladan: wha- but the valar are real!

Legolas: the valar are real, but never done a thing to help my people. My gods, however? I might not be able to meet with them face to face like you do with yours, but my people have been worshipping them since before Orome came and we’re still here, alive and kicking. Which is more than i can say about most of your kin, who have long since started to abandon these lands.

[annab99awritersdream]

Maiar in 'The Lady of Ithilien'

(to be updated with new information as the story progresses. As such, things may change)

Eönwë

Herald and banner-bearer of Manwë, the High King of Arda. He's among the most powerful Maiar in Valinor and the mightiest in arms. Military leader and High Commander of the Host of the Valar, he was one of the key fighters during the War of Wrath, which marked the end of the First Age of the Sun.

Birth: he entered Arda shortly after it was created.

Married to Elenna of the House of Húrin.

Fancast: Daniel Sharman

Ilmarë

Eönwë's younger sister and handmaiden of Varda, Queen of the Valar and Manwë's wife. Along with her brother, she's one of the chiefs of the Maiar.

Birth: she entered Arda shortly after it was created.

Eventually married to Eldarion, Crown Prince of Gondor and Arnor.

Fancast: Matilda Lutz

Olórin

Also known as Gandalf (one of his many aliases), he has served several Valar throughout the various ages of Arda. He's mainly associated with Manwë and Varda, but he also served Nienna, Valië of sorrow and compassion and Irmo, Vala of dreams and visions. (Olórin is a Quenya name and its meaning is something along the lines of "dream of mind")

Birth: he entered Arda shortly after it was created.

Fancast: Sir Ian McKellen (as Gandalf during the War of the Ring. He sticks to this form for a little while longer before switching back to his usual one); Bradley James (as Olórin)

(they give the same vibe tbh)

Wilwarin

Maia serving Irmo and occasionally Nienna. She's had a major crush on Olórin ever since she met him. She's not the sharpest tool in the box (sorry girl, I still love you), but she's kind-hearted and keeps to herself because no one wants to befriend her due to her perceived stupidity. SHE NEEDS LOVE AND AFFECTION, which no one has ever given her because most Maiar are stuck up and arrogant. Extremely naïve and completely clueless at times, she's been nicknamed "Wilya" (meaning airhead) by her fellow Maiar. She's obsessed with Olórin because he's the only one who's ever actually interacted with her.

Birth: She entered Arda at the beginning of the Second Age of the Sun, following the War of Wrath.

Fancast: Tuğba Melis Türk

Isilmë

Maia of Vayanna. Considered among the most beautiful Maiarin women to ever enter Arda, she has been obsessed with Eönwë ever since she first saw him. They had a brief fling following the War of Wrath, which, needless to say, ended very quickly (and badly). She's firmly convinced he's still in love with her and will do anything to get him back. Her name is Quenya for "moonlight".

Birth: she entered Arda following the War of Wrath (around the same time as Wilwarin)

Fancast: Beste Kökdemir

Isilya

Maia of Yavanna. She's Isilmë's close friend (or so she believes). She fails to realize Isilmë doesn't really love her or value their friendship, but simply uses her for her own purposes. She blindly follows her "friend" and indistinctly agrees with everything the latter says or does, as she's been brainwashed into thinking she's perfect. She doesn't seem to have a mind of her own, modeling her own behavior after Isilmë, as she's afraid to lose the connection they share. She's petty and very annoying, but not inherently evil and might even redeem herself eventually. Who knows. Her name is Quenya for "the third day of the week" according to the Númenórean calendar.

(It might sound odd, but I picked the name purely because it sounds similar to Isilmë and because I like the sound of it, not necessarily because I had a specific idea. I'm terrible at naming characters, I know. Please don't be mean)

Birth: she entered Arda following the War of Wrath.

Fancast: Dilara Aksüyek

Elenna's household

Four Maiarin ladies enter her service after her marriage to the Herald.

Handalimë

Originally a Maia of Vána, she is thoughtful, level-headed, smart and highly practical. Elenna is entrusted to her and she quickly grows fond of her new lady, becoming one of her most trusted servants and her main confidante. She's usually calm and collected and makes it her mission to protect her lady from anyone who might wish her harm—namely her sister Isilmë and a few of the Noldorin elves— and constantly worries about her. Her lady's well-being is her utmost priority.

Birth: she entered Arda sometime before the end of the First Age.

Fancast: Gülcan Arslan

Narael

A Maia of Aulë, she's spunky and crafty but also naive and shy. She loves making rings and necklaces and will be gifting many jewels to her new lady. She can often be found chatting with Gimli, as she's never seen a dwarf before and wants to know all about dwarf customs and traditions (for fairly obvious reasons, I'd say). Kind-hearted and wiser than she lets on, she loves sitting by fireplaces (and lighting them).

Birth: she entered Arda at the beginning of the Third Age.

Fancast: Sophie Turner

Aranwen

A Maia of Nessa, she loves dancing, nature and poetry. She's not a great conversationalist, but when she does speak, one had better stop and listen. She loves reading and will spend many hours discussing books and history with her lady. She enjoys needlework and she's quite a good painter as well. She respects Elena greatly and often reassures her. Even though they get on each other's nerves quite often, she's great friends with Naráel. She too will spend a bit of time with Gimli, but only to try and convince him that ripping down trees is inherently bad. Nevertheless, she grows fond of the lord of the Glittering Caves- she and Legolas will try and teach him how to dance. Whether they will succeed is still unknown.

Birth: she entered Arda at the beginning of the Third Age.

Fancast: Rose Williams

Elenya

Maia of Varda (the name is kind of a giveaway).

She's sweet, kind and very protective of Elenna. She often likes to remark how similar their names are and loves to recount stories that most have forgotten (star-related, of course). She was lady-in-waiting to Ilmarë before she volunteered to join Elenna's household.

Birth: she entered Arda during the Years of the Trees.

Fancast: Yasemin Allen

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Happy Birthday, my dear

It's @cilil's birthday!!!! 🎂🎂🎂🎂

So, here is a little gift for you. Done by the incomparable @neldeathstar!!!

And, in the name of friendship, I've also written a very tiny thing! It's under the cut :)

Enjoy!

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡𝔰: 1.1 k ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰: Mairon, Aiwendil, Eönwë 𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Sexual innuendo, Mairon is mean...

Mairon rolled his eyes—Eönwë and Aiwendil were not the audience he had expected or desired, but he needed to share his amazing experience with someone before he could burst with self-satisfied smugness, and he was too sated and content to ferret out Curumo or Ossë.

“Hello Mairon, how are you? You look…” Aiwendil faltered in his cheery greeting, his annoyingly huge, innocent eyes clouding over with something akin to dread and distrust. “You look different. Are you unwell?”

Look at that little fool, Mairon thought impatiently; he despised his fellow Maia for his sickening naïveté that was erroneously misconstrued and excused as genuine “sweetness” by most. Mairon knew the truth though, Aiwendil was nothing but a stupid dreamer who would never amount to much if he didn’t stop aimlessly horsing around with the most feeble and neglectable of Yavanna’s creations.

“Do we go to the library then?” Eönwë asked hopefully, his usually so placid face lighting up with anticipation.

Why that one wanted to go to the library didn’t make sense to Mairon either—Eönwë was a good fighter and a disgustingly faithful servant, but he’d never be the one to pen anything of importance. No, it was clear that he was destined to merely carry, defend, and deliver messages—not to write them.

“Ah, I am so sorry,” Mairon said softly, schooling his face into a convincing expression of contrition and prudish embarrassment that would be shattered only too soon by his carefully planned and rehearsed revelation.

Indeed, their vacant faces fell in disappointment and unveiled worry almost instantly.

Mairon drew himself up to his full height, ready to strike, and promptly informed them of his exciting and illicit meeting with Melkor in the forge in melting, sensual accents.

He had expected outrage, shock, envy, or even anger, but all he got were two blank stares of incomprehension. They even had the gall to cock their heads like puzzled birds—how Mairon wanted to wring their necks for having ruined his moment of breath-taking triumph by their profound and utterly maddening stupidity.

One, two, three—Mairon counted the moments in his wickedly sharp mind until any of the two would finally fully comprehend what he had just told them.

“Oh no,” Eönwë cried out in what seemed to be genuine alarm; he expressed his sincere commiseration and even gave special emphasis to the undeniable evil inherent to all of Melkor’s doings. Maybe, Mairon reflected, he only said so because of Aiwendil who kept staring at him with questioning cow eyes.

Ire—hot and punitive—flared within Mairon’s chest; he was named “the Admirable” but that alone wasn’t worth much when there was nobody around who was sensible and enlightened enough to actually admire him for his daring and cunning.

Indeed, he himself was rather proud of the way he had ventured into a passionate, mind-altering, and world-shattering relationship with the mightiest of the Valar—after all, their seduction had been mutual and all-encompassing. Mairon relished the lingering burning sensation rippling through his fána with every move, and he certainly would not accept pity when he had expected awe!

Letting his smile melt like warm honey, he turned his sweetest, most innocent face to the two woeful imbeciles who were still waiting for him to accept their well-wishes and expressions of foolish sympathy.

“Oh yeah…” Mairon sighed mellifluously. “His dick is evil…big.”

This time, Eönwë was quicker to catch on—he gasped audibly and sputtered his peer’s name in a forbidding, scolding tone that was but a cheap imitation and a pathetic echo of Manwë’s thundering eloquence.

“What?” Aiwendil looked back and forth between the other two, his vague gaze sharpening into an expression of bewildered distress.

Mairon made a rather crude gesture at the height of his own shapely behind that had Eönwë choking on his own tongue but only served to perplex Aiwendil even further.

“A dick? He has a tail?” Aiwendil asked, evidently just as eager to understand as he was incapable of grasping even the most essential mechanics of what they were so circuitously discussing—at least, Ossë would have challenged or even mocked him! Nothing was worse than the benign but utterly fatuous and vacant gleam of the insipidly handsome faces turned towards him like beacons of purity.

“Ugh, I wanted it. I welcomed his attentions!” Mairon groaned; he could hardly believe that he had to spell it out for them.

Silence fell like a stifling blanket over the bright meadow they had convened in.

“What exactly?” Aiwendil inquired shyly, his eyes darting nervously between Eönwë and Mairon—he could tell that he was a nuisance and was visibly afraid of being reprimanded or sent away.

“I am not going to draw you a graphic,” Mairon hissed, tossing back his hair and glowering at the young Maia with unadulterated loathing. “Suffice it to say that the forges were not the only thing that was burning bright. Oh, the things he does to me and I to him. We are so well matched—you can’t even imagine the pleasures we share.”

He held up his hand before Aiwendil could stutter some nonsense about walks in nature or tending to some foul-smelling beast; his body moved in suggestive undulation, mimicking the throes of lascivious passion he had engaged in before joining these two knuckleheads.

“They were dancing?” Aiwendil asked Eönwë in a muted voice.

“No, little one,” Eönwë sighed. “Mairon here has let himself be corrupted and tainted by the power of evil.”

“Ah, don’t be such a hypocrite!” Fire flared within Mairon’s eyes, and he wished that he had brought any of his tools to put Eönwë’s famed prowess in battle to the test. “He’s no better and no worse than his brother. Only because you have not had the guts or the charm to get anywhere with Manwë, you don’t need to take your envies and frustrations out on me.”

That accusation was so outrageous that it knocked the wind clean out of Eönwë’s mighty lungs—he merely stared, mouth agape, at the vision of flickering light and unbridled anger in front of him. More than ever, Mairon wanted to batter him senseless, but he held back and only bared his sharp teeth to give vent to his sombre, dangerous feelings.

“I would never…” Eönwë stammered, his cheeks colouring with the heat of embarrassment and something darker and much more shameful.

“Yes,” Mairon grinned sharply, “and that might just be your problem. Either way, I am too wrung out to go to the library and look at dusty tomes with the likes of you. See you later.”

“Why doesn’t he go to Estë if he’s in pain?” Aiwendil muttered, confused, as they saw Mairon limping away from them with as much dignity as he could muster.

“I am afraid,” Eönwë replied, settling a heavy but comforting hand on the slender shoulder of his companion, “that he has grown to like the burn.”

Once again, I wish you only the best for your birthday and good luck for tonight!!!

Lots of love from me, as always!!!

Hoch sollst du leben...an der Decke kleben and so on and so forth! Love you!!!

[danger-xylophones]

The King's Herald Part 2

warnings: mentions of grief, canonical deaths, themes of betrayed trust

summary: The princess and Elrond get to know each other

So sorry for the delay, life got a little insane

masterlist | elves | king's herald navi

"Tell me, what was the Greenwood like?" Elrond's probing question was said in a casual tone as he escorted you through the gardens and towards the palace, your hand in the crook of his arm.

"Dense and darker than I was expecting." You answered after a small spell.

"How so?"

"I mean, the trees grow close together so there isn't much sunlight when you're on the ground. Wolves run free as do deer and elk - have you ever seen an elk, Herald Elrond?" A part of you was alarmed that you felt so comfortable around your father's herald. By all accounts, you should be wary of him as he was part of that circle you'd deemed untrustworthy. And yet, he spoke to you so kindly and his eyes were so innocent maybe it would be alright to indulge in speaking with him a bit more.

"I can't say that I have, my lady." He replied with a smile. "But I have heard they are majestic beasts with antlers as wide as the sky."

You laughed, amused by his description. "That's a bit of an exaggeration although they are a marvel to look at." You paused a moment when two courtiers passed and nodded their heads to Elrond. "Prince Thranduil's elk is huge! The first time I saw it I thought it was an apparition. Or a beast the Valar would ride."

"Did you meet the prince?" Elrond asked, quirking his head a bit.

You felt yourself deflate, that was stupid of you to mention Thranduil. "I...yes." You said, picking your words carefully. "He and the princess had the same tutor so we interacted fairly often."

"Really?" Elrond raised an eyebrow at you. "What did you think of him?"

"He's a bit vain but a good person. I think he will make a fine king someday." You answered honestly. Although you and Thranduil often butted heads, you did consider him a dear friend.

"You are the first person I've heard describe him in a positive light." Elrond hummed, guiding you down a path you hadn't taken to get to the clearing. "I know that King Oropher hoped for a match between Thranduil and the princess."

You snorted at that, an undignified but completely amused laugh slipping from you. "His hope is misplaced. Thranduil's eye has already been caught. And I know the princess would not look for a match in someone like him."

"That was what Gil Galad said as well." Elrond laughed with you.

"Is the princess's love life that interesting for a king and herald to discuss?" You raised an eyebrow at him.

He bowed his head, conceding that it was an odd topic for the two of them to be discussing. "Gil Galad worries about her more than he cares to admit."

Your heart warmed to know that your father did still care about you, even though you had little reason to doubt anyways. "You two seem to be fairly close." Your gaze remained on the ground so you could watch your step as Elrond led you up a set of stairs.

"He gave me a chance when no other elf would."

The sincerity in Elrond's voice shook you almost to your core. "What do you mean by that?" You asked, giving his arm a slight squeeze.

Elrond fell quiet for a spell and you worried that you might have asked too much. "Forgive me, it is not pleasant to talk about and I do not wish to burden you with tales of my life."

"Elrond, it is no burden to learn of you." You stopped walking, forcing him to stop with you. "You are a kind soul and I wish to know more of you." You laid a hand on his upper arm, hoping the gesture would read as comforting and not as an overstep of boundaries. "But, if you do not wish to speak of it, I will not force you to."

Elrond's gaze lingered on your hand on his arm.

Skin prickling with embarrassment, you began to lift your hand away only for Elrond to raise his own and lay it over your own. "I appreciate it." He patted your hand. "I am called Peredhel."

"Half-elven?" You hummed, eyes darting to the tips of his ears. "Interesting. I have never met someone who is half-elf before." Your gaze returned to his. "I've heard stories of them though - of Earendil and Elwing, I mean."

At that, Elrond smiled, mischief twinkling in his eyes as he began walking again. "Funny you should mention them." He laughed. "They are my parents."

"Truly?" You couldn't help but gasp. "Then, oh..." you cast your gaze down, voice growing somber, "My apologies. That was insensitive of me."

"How do you mean?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at you. "You did not say anything untoward."

"I..." you bit your tongue, thinking hard about how to verbalize the sentiment lurking in your throat. "I am sorry for your loss, Elrond. Your parents were remarkable people, I wish I'd gotten to meet them."

He breathed in sharply and you caught a flicker of some long scarred over pain in his oak brown eyes. "Thank you, my lady. I...I miss them."

You squeezed his arm, "I can only imagine." Truly, you only could - your parents had passed before you had the chance to form any strong memories of them and the care of Gil-Galad (and Cirdan to an extent) was all you'd ever known. To have loved and lost both parents was something you never wished to experience. "I know we have only just met," you began in a tentative voice, "but if you ever wish to talk about them, I am happy to lend an ear."

Elrond was silent for a moment as he led you up the final steps that brought the two of you to a small grove framed in by a large carved arch that you recognized as the entrance to the palace. "I appreciate that, my friend." He led you under the arch and paused before a grand mural you'd remembered being commissioned when you could still be considered a child. It depicted Valinor and the migration of the elves. "I will endeavor to keep that in mind. May I call on you in the future?"

You smiled up at Elrond. "Of course you may, Elrond. I would be offended if you didn't." Nudging him with your hip, you ensured the young herald knew you were joking.

The smile that graced his face was brighter than any star you'd ever seen. It unsettled you but not in the traditional sense of the word. It felt like your heart had been shoved and encouraged to run. Your breath grew short and your face hot all from the simple grin Elrond sent your way.

"I am afraid I must take my leave of you, my lady." The herald's voice was soft, like a spring breeze dancing over your ears as his eyes did not stray from your own. "Would you like me to escort you to your room before I do so?"

Yes...

You bit your bottom lip to keep the sentiment tramped down.

"I appreciate it, Elrond." You began, swallowing back the sudden ball of nerves that had crept into your throat. "But I would hate to be the reason for any tardiness on your part, I think it will suffice if you simply point me in the direction of the stables."

"It is no trouble, my friend." Elrond bowed his head. "But I appreciate your concern. The stables are just around the bend there." He pointed towards where the sun was just starting to set, illuminating a simple footpath that arched out of sight around a cluster of golden trees. "I look forward to seeing you around Lindon, my friend." With a bow of his head, Elrond extricated his arm from yours and set off in the opposite direction of where he had pointed you towards.

For a moment, you watched him go - entranced by the way his deep green cloak swept through the golden leaves. And how the sunlight seemed to dance amongst the brown waves atop his head. And then, with a small shake of your head, you looked away and set off down the path Elrond had pointed out.

taglist: @goingtoladyworld

[lamemaster]

I Dropped College to Become a Dark Lord

Genre: Crack, Modern guy in Middle Earth

Pairing: tbh

Summary: At first look, Melkor’s form seemed to be devoid of any sort of essence. A chill ran through the Valar as they considered the possibility of his escape. Tulkas and Orome had almost packed up for their adventure to Middle Earth. But then they had felt it. A sudden surge of life.

AN: I think I am kinda funny. Nothing more.

PART 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

“So, am I the bad guy?” Derek asked. They had somehow managed to reign in the emotions that ran wild in everyone’s mind. Introductions had been made and Derek got to know that Melkor is the name of the body he currently finds himself in.

“Yeah, no shit Melko- “

“Mandos!” the sky bluish light, who he had come to know as Manwe exclaimed.

Much to Derek’s dismay both the Vala switched back to the horrid Valarin. For beings who were the very source of music, one would expect a language calming, soothing, and sweeter than any other. Valarin…was horrendous. It stung in his ears like the noise of thousand nails scratching a blackboard.

He could understand it but trust him it was not worth it. It was the worst culture shock…worse than finding out his body’s origin.

Melkor, the body he entered, is none other than the ultimate bad boy of this world. A criminal who just barely got his parole on nepotism basis at that. Too bad he isn’t here to rejoice or anything. Derek wondered if the dark lord died or the worse possibility, Melkor switched bodies with him.

It was an amusing thought to imagine the dark lord as an engineering student. If there was anything worse than the endless void, it had to be the dark alleys of STEM. Well, he was glad that the report due the next day was not his problem now.

A distant, saner, part of Derek’s mind was still in the midst of processing the fact that he might indeed be dead in his world. His parents, his siblings, or roommates would find out and they would grieve for him. Or if they would delight in the chance of meeting his dark lord version.

The name Illuvatar had remained in Melkor’s memories, the only name that remained. All else was gone with him and so Derek tried it. ‘Umm…excuse me…Illuvatar are you there?’ Derek tried to talk to the possible god and his creator in this world. He had to be the one who must have had any idea of the stupid situation. ‘Am I still Derek? Or am I truly Melkor with an identity crisis or wait am I future Melkor and I time traveled back here. I mean it would be quiet a fall for Melkor to end up as an engineering student but hey it is a possibility.’ he tried asking, only to ramble and sound stupid in his inner monologue. None replied. Head empty no thoughts.

Well damn. This one’s got to have some daddy issues for sure. Derek wondered as he telepathically tried leaving a message for Illuvatar (don’t ask him how. He’s new to the whole thing. Trust the process).

‘ To Illuvatar, I do not know if this is you or not, but I must tell you I am not Melkor. Like I am in his body and it’s super weird. I don’t know if your feral son is dead (if he can die…) or not. I am just kind of in his body. I hope you can like tell me something about this all.’ P.S.- it's kinda urgent.

Hanging up the metaphorical phone Derek became aware of the quiet room. Manwe was staring at him again. It was the same look. Those puppy dog eyes just screamed of younger sibling energy. The look that siblings got seconds before they burst into tears. A precarious look for any older sibling ever.

Manwe was…bright. It was difficult to imagine how he was related to Melkor. Long white hair, glimmering blue eyes, and blue robes to maintain the angelic aesthetic. Manwe was pure innocence and uncorrupted power at the same time.

Melkor on the other hand. Well… Derek kinda could see himself without a mirror or anything. It was a Valar thing. A perk some would say. Just closing his eyes and he could see his form. He had almost screeched at his own reflection.

Melkor was…handsome. Sexy in the ‘I’ll be your fall from grace’ way. Dark black hair, the darkest there could be. Eyes bright like Manwe’s yet, there were glowing golden with the fervor of molten lava buried in the depth of the Earth. And contrasting such stark features was the palest skin ever. It was unlike Manwe’s healthy and flush tan. No Melkor was the supreme edge lord.

“Brother can you still not hear it?” Manwe asked. Derek, who had zoned out, realized that the focus from the previous quarrel had shifted back on him.

“Hear what?” Derek questioned. Was he supposed to hear something? Oh shit! Did someone call Melkor? It was hard remembering to respond to people when they called someone else’s name. Plus, he wasn’t that keen on the idea of discussing this weird possession with the guy who quite literally was a major simp for his brother. The idea of Manwe finding out his brother’s soul was gone was something scarier than Valarin.

With a barely concealed wince, Manwe replied “Do you not hear the music? The song of Arda? What about Illuvatar can you sense him?” Yikes, am I supposed to Derek wondered? To say or not to say, that is the question.

“I think don’t he can Manwe.” Another one of the Vala spoke instead of Melkor. If Derek remembered correctly, he was Ulmo. The Vala of seas, oceans, and rivers was visible in every facet of his personality and looks. Dark blue hair in the very predictably wavy in the fashion of waves, not that Derek disapproved of it. His first impression of Ulmo was that of the quiet kid who actually turns out to be really smart. The quiet kid you should not mess with. ‘Poseidon, Aquaman,’ Derek’s brain unhelpfully listed.

By the looks of it, Ulmo’s words did not sit well with Manwe. “I mean it is not difficult to see Manwe.” Mandos, the Vala who hated Melkor the most, added in support of Ulmo. It was surprising that even Derek felt the heavy animosity. And Derek was nothing if not dense.

Manwe continued to ignore Mandos and Ulmo collectively. “Can you truly not hear it Melkor?” he asked with an uncomfortably consistent eye contact. From his peripheral vision, Derek could see Varda take a step towards them.

“No,” Derek replied. “I cannot hear music or the song you speak of,” and the air in the room stilled. Everything fell silent as Manwe nodded in acceptance. However, Derek was not done. It was time to rip the bandage.

“I don’t remember anyone. I don’t know you or as matter of fact myse- “

“YOU MORON! WHERE IS MY MAIA?” before Derek could have completed his sentence he interrupted and was then promptly strangled by an unseen force. He truly had not seen it coming.

Put back the bandage he distantly wondered.

The room erupted in Chaos as Varda jumped in to save Manwe, who jumped in to save Melkor, who was attacked by Aule who was simultaneously being pulled away by Yavanna.

Chaos came to Valinor. Yet not the chaos that rained destruction but the chaos that mingled with the order to retain the world.

“He…he has returned.”

In the darkest canopy of unvisited forests, a voice whispered with a trace of hysterical joy. The sole existence of those woods. A shadow that lamented in unlit lands.

Once glazed eyes caught the first reflection of the light they once held. Ashen gray hair ignited as if a fire rekindled. Hair that now changed into the blistered red shade of flames. Gone was the lament and mourning.

Mairon had come to life.

“Master Melkor returned,” the silent trees of bleak woods shivered with fear as the fire captured them in its grasp.

With a crazed smile, Mairon wondered if it was time to go get his master back to their lands. Utumno would be rebuilt, and order would be restored.

So, it began as Mairon started making his way to Valinor.

[darklinaforever]

I swear that when I see people criticizing The Rings of Power in relation to its total lack of fidelity to Tolkien, the costumes, the treatment of the characters, particularly female, the geographical management of the middle earth, the narrative inconsistencies and actions on the part of the characters... But on the other hand love HOTD... I wonder in what world do they live ? HOTD has exactly the same flaws but more camouflaged. And the worst part is that readers of the book Fire and Blood find that the HOTD series enhances the book... Like, Wtf ?

Let's not forget those who think that the series treats its female characters brilliantly...

Then who on the other side criticizes Galadriel for being a fucking Mary Sue... The same girl who is stubborn, never thinks, who the characters yell at and who literally gave hope to SAURON ?! Like, if it's for her enormous, extraordinary abilities... she's a fucking elf ?! Oh, and that Galadriel is good at fighting is no surprise if you look at Tolkien's writings...

If it was adapted to the letter of what Tolkien had written for Galadriel people would also cry mary sue ! From @motziedapul :

"he described Galadriel as Amazonian, "man-maiden" and excellent in athleticism on top of generally being one of the most powerful Elves in Middle Earth and being the favorite of an angel [Maia] who she lived with for a while."

Also, the only one who seems to me to have understood that Sauron was a first-rate scammer when he was among the elves.

Galadriel was around 2 meters tall, much taller than the other Noldor women. (Which gave her the name Nerwen meaning young girl man by her mother. Her father had first named her Artanis which meant noble ladies. Galadriel was the name Celeborn gave her) She was vigorous in body as well as in spirit, capable of standing up to anyone in terms of knowledge as well as physical skills. She also always had the gift of clairvoyance, allowing her to read the hearts and minds of others. Her great beauty was recognized by all the Eldar and her hair was considered a wonder of this world. It would also be the gold and silver reflection of Galadriel's hair which would have inspired Feaonor for the creation of the Silmarils. For all these reasons, she was quickly considered the most illustrious of the Noldor. She had also quickly learned everything the Valar had been willing to teach her.

Don't make me believe that if we had an adaptation of the character of Galadriel including all of this, people wouldn't be screaming at the mary sue ?! Dare to say it ! Because it’s just obvious they would have done it ! (Which does not mean that Galadriel is a mary sue, since she has her defaults. But given the case that been the character of Rey, people wouldn't really care)

Damn, that's like calling Rey a Mary Sue. Any sense. People really use that word all over the place these days...

It makes you wonder if at this point people are content with our cheeks to call Mary Sue just a strong woman who knows how to fight... As well as considering stories like HOTD to be the pinnacle of well-written feminism. The big joke.

People think HOTD's writing about women is awesome, but it basically strips them of everything they were in the book and what made them strong. Now they're just the victims of the men around them... And I'm not going to talk about those who think Alicent is a great character of great complexity, because otherwise I'll want to vomit.

All this to say that both series are as bad as each other. But ! If there's one to save, it's The Rings of Power.

For what ?

Simply because at least the directors recognize their stupidity, instead of thinking they've written something extraordinary while daring to make fun of the fans who question their decisions... Ryan Condal and Sara Hess have reallh be disgusting in their condescending remarks.

All this to say that when I see people criticizing The Rings of Power for its lack of fidelity, its costumes, its poorly written female characters (especially since this Mary Sue story about Galadriel is completely exaggerated), the slammed geography, etc., but praised HOTD on the other ? I scream at royal hypocrisy.

[eri-pl]

So, the Gift of Men

Or: how I interpret it. It has two parts, but probably veery connected. (kinda long)

Fate not defined by Music

This... is either part of the Gift or not actually was there from the start. Which would be hilarious if it wasn't tragic, because it again falls into "Morgoth does stuff that seems genius to him, stuff explodes in his face later".

Humans don't have a natural tendency. Neither to good, or to a particular career path. They do have skills, sure, so for example some make better warriors, but they don't have it on the level of fate. Unless someone puts a fate on a human (Turin, Tuor) but even then, humans are very slippery (Turin did make a lot of bad choices and I don't think the curse would work without this). Humans are not bound by fate.

To clarify: Neither are Elves bound by it absolutely, as they have free-will, but they are (at least: without human intervention) bound in the Oedipus sense. No matter what free choices they make, some things end up happening. It's up to discussion how it works with the Ainur, but i would put them on the Elves-shelf.

Also, if someone was to change the Music... the ability to act independently of it would be necessary for this I guess? How can you even change something back in time?

I would say you can't change the meaning of a piece of music that already exists, but the soundtrack to the infamous series does exactly this (kudos for mr Bear). Recontextualize, at least.

Oh, this soundtrack. If you hate the series, its soundtrack is a perfect illustration of "things more wonderful, which he himself [Amazon] hath not imagined". If you love it, the soundtrack a wonderful. part of it.

Not tied so closely to Arda

So, humans die and are imperfect and get sick and whatnot. but is that a problem with humans or with Arda?

OK now that I think about it more, it's still the same as part 1. Humans can go out because we have no fate (of that kind at least) to bind us in. Unless something does bind, like a ring or an oath (does it mean... does it mean an oath could also unbind an elf? does it mean that darkness everlasting = a stupid name for whatever-happens-to-humans? I asked it before I think.).

Humans will go out because... some reason? Judging by the Numenorians, it may be something in the style of "we make a lot of choices, even if small, that untangle us from Arda, because they don't harmonize with how Arda is)

But with what happens to Arda, this has an aspect of "not being tied to a sinking ship". Kind of?

Lost my train of thought again.

TLDR: It's a beautiful, unpredictable thing even if it's "no beta we die".

Bonus: seeking

To quote another author (also great!) "To be human is to want which we cannot have". Humans are always a) causing problems they can't solve (and sometimes even the Valar can't), and b) wanting things they can't have (elves do this too, and

No, that's a thing the Eldar also do a lot. That's a thing Melkor invented before Elves even happened. Both of those. Still, as humans are Melkor-coded, it is still a very human thing. It doesn't sound like a gift. Then, maybe, the gift would be some kind of solution to this. Creative problems need creative solutions.

Still, humans get crazy ideas.

[shrikeseams]

Possibly stupid late-night thought that I'm not cross-checking with the Doom of mandos, but:

What if the Doom is what's driving everything linking Luthien to the silmaril?

I don't mean her relationship with Beren (you could go there and I am choosing not to), but I am thinking... okay, so the Doom is a force driven by the will of the valar generally and namo specifically, yes? (If you prefer a less magical interpretation of the Doom, go away. Shoo shoo. Not for you.) Like the Doom is a working of the valar onto the nature of arda and the causality within. So it would make sense if, for example, said Doom was strengthened in the presence of valar-alaigned maiar, or more able to work through them, or able to... alter events through and around them to acheive the valar's ends. Not in a way that overrights free will, but maybe that suggests possibilities that the individual might now have otherwise considered. Generally using a given ainu to bend causality to the doom's specific narrative arc.

And from that (admittedly massive!) assumption, I might then suggest that anyone closely bound up with and/or related to an ainu might likewise get caught up in the effects. Like Thingol. Like Luthien. It wouldn't have to fight against Thingol to give Beren a malicious quest, just lead him to think of the silmarils specifically. And then it wouldn't take much to produce luthien into chasing her lover, or even beren into refusing to give up. (Honestly this idea might ease up my major criticism of beren, that he decides to pursue the quest even when he knows it's risking luthien along with him. He's no maedhros or fingon, too early in the first age and too calaquendi proud to know better. Of all people he knows the risks!)

Idk I just think one could play with the idea of luthien and her descendants as unwitting and unwilling agents of the valar, cursed by their blood to play keepaway with the cursed murder elves that the valar let loose amongst them.

...I'm saying that in this interpretation dior & elwing & Co should sue the valar for reparations we well as the feanorians.

[amaziana]

Change in Galadriels character is sexist

Yep. You read that right. Despite Galadriel being this great ninja badass whose most important possession is his dead brothers dagger the show (and the change in her character) is sexist. This is coming from a girl who loves female characters that take part in combat and are great warriors.

In cannon Galadriel is 6’4 woman with amazon disposition who is in par with all the loremasters and athletes of the eldar and along with her uncle Feanor considered the greatest of their people even though Galadriel is considered wiser of the two. She is proud, athletic, wise and ambitious. She didn’t leave Valinor in order to defeat Morgoth but because "she had dreams of far lands and dominions that might be her own to order as she would without tutelage". She wasn’t granted pardon from the valar at the end of the first age and was banned from returning to Valinor. Her response? She didn’t care. She didn’t want to return.(If I remember correctly, she basically said that she had done nothing wrong and therefore didn’t need forgiveness.) In the second age she got married to the love of her life and had a daughter, who would go on to marry Elrond. When Sauron began to stir in Middle-earth again he was noticed by Galadriel even though at the time she or no one else knew it was Sauron. She however noticed there was a controlling evil, and that it was spreading beyond the Misty mountains. She also thought this 'residue of evil' could only be fought with an alliance of all its enemies. As a result she and her husband moved east and established Eregion. When Sauron came to Eregion in disguise she didn’t trust him and he “perceived at once that Galadriel would be his chief adversary and obstacle, and he endeavoured therefore to placate her, bearing her scorn with outward patience and courtesy". She did lot of other stuff, but it would literally take me too long to list them all. 

If this doesn’t scream a powerful, strong woman to you, I don’t know what does. Now when we look at Rop Galadriel she is weak in comparison. She is basically a subject to Gil-Galad, has established no realms, has no desire to rule, is reckless and impulsive and isn’t respected. She's a young, angry girl with a sword who single mindedly chases a goal set by her brother. While a strong warrior woman is a character I usually like and find inspirational, Rop Galadriel is not it. She is mean, stupid and has no depth. Sadly, this is the case with most of “strong female characters” in modern media especially if made by men. If you want an example of a female warrior archetype done well, look at Eowyn. She is young, angry, independent and a great fighter, but she is also desperate, lost, sad, ambitious and complex. She ends up choosing life over death in the end and finding her happiness. 

Another problem with Rop Galadriel is rejecting her more feminine strength and changing it into more traditionally masculine one. It not only makes her weaker but also spreads the message that in order to be strong, you have to embody traditionally masculine traits: aggressiveness, toughness and being emotionally hardened. Ironically, in Tolkiens world characters who embrace their traditionally more feminine qualities, empathy, kindness and caring, along side their masculine qualities, are the ones that are the strongest. 

As for appearance, Galadriel is extremely beautiful, but also tall and athletic in canon. However, in the show she is beautiful yes, but she is shorter than the male characters and slim, but not muscular. I don’t know about you, but I’d call that sexist. In the Lotr movies she is at least tall. 

To summarize, Amazon took a powerful woman in her own right who represented more traditionally feminene and quiet form of strength, who was known to be extremely tall and athletic and as such most likely muscular, who was far sighted and established realms and started preparing the world to stand against Sauron in concrete ways, who people listened and loved and whom Sauron recognized at once as his greatest adversary and obstacle and turned her into small, toned at best, angry girl who thinks only of herself, is no ruler, has established no realms, is sidelined, makes stupid, spur of the moment decisions, whose only effort in fighting Sauron is trying to find him in order to defeat him with weapons and commands no respect. (And who might have a romance with halbarad, who might be Sauron or the witch king.) This change is sexist because it shows how amazon refuses to acknowledge her quiet, traditionally more feminene strength as good enough and gives her masculine traits and strength but make her look feminene and conveniently attractive and removing more masculine aspects of her appearance (height and muscle.) 

P.s. I’m not trying to say “women have to be feminene and can’t be masculine, but rather use words masculine and feminene to describe qualities that traditionally are associated with men and women. Personally I believe anyone can be just as masculine or feminene as they want regardless of gender.

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

Bby Aragorn: *wondering through the halls of Imlardis*

Rando elf 1: ugh, i can’t believe that savage is visiting again. You’d think that our lords would have better taste.

Rando elf 2: i’ll say! And i can’t believe they allow him to be near Lady Arwen! Unsupervised at that! He’s already taught her to fight, who knows how else he’ll corrupt her.

Elf 1: truelly the silvans are such a barbaric lot, not only do they have everyone fight, but they scorn and ignore the Ainur, our holy gods who represent the light!

Elf 2: we can only hope that that brute Legolas *spits the name* doesn’t further influence our lord and his family with his dark ways.

Bby Aragorn: *frowning at what he’s overhearing*

Bby Aragorn: *suddenly lifted into the air*

Legolas, setting Aragorn on his hip: hey there, Aragorn! Have you been good? Caused any chaos lately?

Bby Aragorn: *cheers* Las! I have been a super good boy! Though i might have stolen some cookies here and there... but ‘Lladan and ‘Rohir helped me!

Legolas: *carrying bby aragron away* that’s good! And if you get in trouble, just blame it on the twins, that’s what i do.

Bby Aragorn: *nods with a pleased expression*

Bby Aragorn:

Bby Aragorn: hey, Las?

Legolas: yes?

Bby Aragorn: what’s a sav-savge?

Legolas:... a savage?

Bby Aragorn: mhmm! Or “barbiac”

Legolas: Barbaric. Where did you here those words?

Bby Aragron: just now! I over heard some elves talking about you and they used those words. They also called you a brute! I don’t think they were being very nice.

Legolas: well, you’d be right, kiddo. Those aren’t nice words to use.

Bby Aragorn: then why do they use them?

Legolas: bc there are a lot of light elves that don’t like dark elves, such as myself. They don’t think we’re good enough, “elf” enough, in a way.

Bby Aragorn: but... you are an elf?

Legolas: i very much am, but some elves don’t think that my people qualify.

Bby Aragorn: well that’s stupid.

Legolas: you can say that again.

Bby Aragorn: what’s a light elf? Or a dark elf?

Legolas: well, “light” and “dark” are basically the way the elves are divided in those who don’t believe in the Valar, and those who do believe in the Valar. There are a few more distinctions, but that’s the gist of it. I, myself, along with my people and the avari, are all considered “dark elves” because we don’t believe in the valar. The elves who live here, such as the Noldor and the Sindar, do believe in the Valar.

Bby Aragorn: so those elves don’t like you bc you don’t believe in the same things they do?

Legolas: well, that, and bc they have a superiority complex.

Bby Aragorn: well that’s stupid. All of it is stupid. Those are stupid things to do for stupid reasons!

Legolas: yes, so don’t be mean to someone just because they’re different from you, ok? After all, like you said, it’s a pretty stupid reason to be mean.

Bby Aragorn: *nodding determinatly* when i grow up, i’m gonna make sure people stop being mean to each other bc they’re different! That way i’ll be surrounded by not stupid people. And anyone who is mean to someone else bc they are different will be called a stupid poopy-head!

Legolas: *laughs* you do that! I look forward to it.

[imakemywings]

This has been said by another anon, but you honestly have the best interpretation of the events in the Silmarillion, especially with Elwing's situation which I super super love (I had to unfollow and block other good blogs because of how borderline misogynistic their takes were on her). I wanna know, what is your reaction to Finwe joining Feanor in exile “because of the love that he bore Feanor” which basically makes Tirion kingless, showing his favoritism and cementing Fingolfin as a 'usurper' to most, especially in the fandom? For me, that was the moment I saw how he made such stupid-ass decisions. Like I'm trying to give him the benefit of the doubt with being considered a 'good' father and king but no way is my response to my oldest son pulling a knife on my younger son at some kind of meeting and getting exiled with 'ah well I’m siding with your brother who almost stabbed you'. He sucks so bad like y'all chose this dumbass over Thingol????

You're too kind, anon (^///^)

Finwe choosing to join Feanor is one of those things that I think was objectively the wrong choice, but I see how he got there. To me, it was one of Finwe's deeply flawed moments, which makes him a real character and not just an idealized Fantasy Elf King. It's also one of those moments where I would love to have more detail, because we get almost nothing on what Finwe's relationship with his later four children was like. Silm virtually only addresses his relationship with Feanor, so I understand why a lot of fans interpret this to mean Finwe showed favoritism towards Feanor/preferred him to his other kids, and the narrative does tell us Finwe paid particular attention to Feanor (however, given their family history, I don't think this is a huge surprise--he has a lot of reason to be worried about how Feanor will handle the family growing). The result though is that we get basically nothing about how Finwe and Fingolfin addressed the "Feanor pulls weapons on his brother in public" incident between them.

However--and maybe you will feel this is splitting hairs--I don't think Finwe chooses to go into exile because he thinks Feanor was in the right, but because he believed the Valar's punishment was unfair. He only has one quote on it:

"Feanor came indeed, for him alone Manwe had commanded to come; but Finwe came not, nor any of the others of the Noldor of Formenos. For said Finwe: 'While the ban lasts upon Feanor my son, that he may not go to Tirion, I hold myself unkinged, and I will not meet my people.'" (Of the Darkening of Valinor)

It's not much, but it's always suggested to me his issue was with the punishment imposed...and I find it hard to believe Tolkien held Finwe up intending him to be "good" and would then have him approve of one of his sons drawing a weapon on the other.

Furthermore, we know how highly Feanor values loyalty and how much he values Finwe's attention, so Finwe would have to know what a significant gesture this would be to Feanor in the wake of his being publicly exposed as having been manipulated by Melkor, and exiled. There's also the fact that Feanor's behavior is increasingly erratic and extreme, which must be an additional concern.

By the other side of the coin though, he must also know how it will look to Fingolfin.

It's true that at this time, Feanor and Fingolfin are both grown adults with families of their own. They aren't little boys chasing after daddy, but clearly Finwe's attention and affection still means something to him. And given Elves' immortality, I've always found it easy to believe that Elven parents maintain a much stronger presence in their children's esteem, simply because they never undergo the slow degradation of mind and body that mortal children expect to see in their parents as they age. But even setting that aside, it would be hard, I think, for Fingolfin not to be hurt by Finwe's choice, even if he understands why it was made. If Fingolfin harbored no resentment about the choice, I'd say we should nominate him for sainthood.

We see that during Feanor's "trial," Fingolfin is already asserting a willingness to forgive him for what was done. I talked about that here, and why I don't find "Fingolfin the usurper" a convincing take. It may be that Finwe and Fingolfin were not in disagreement that Finwe's going with Feanor was best--it may be that even Fingolfin thought it was better to have Finwe there to try to constrain Feanor and make him see sense (This is what he was talking to Finwe about when Feanor originally bursts in with the sword) rather than leave him to fester in Formenos with only his sons, all of whom support him (In Morgoth's Ring, even Nerdanel is not with him in Formenos, one of the few people he actually listened to; they've separated due to Feanor's troubling recent behavior).

When it comes to fights between kids, parents are often reluctant to take sides. This can be true even where one child is obviously in the wrong, even repeatedly. There are any number of reasons Finwe didn't want to see the rift between Feanor and Fingolfin as being that serious, not least of all because I'm sure he wanted them to get along and be brothers, and he loved both of them. When Melkor's hand in Feanor's unrest comes to light, this must have been deeply upsetting for Finwe. Thinking that his child had been targeted by Melkor and used by him to cause these problems among the Noldor would be alarming, and there would be a sense of violation there, probably especially for Feanor. Very possibly Finwe believes that the Valar are punishing Feanor for Melkor's actions.

"Now the unrest of the Noldor was not indeed hidden from the Valar...Then at last the root was laid bare, and the malice of Melkor revealed; and straightway Tulkas left the council to lay hands upon him and bring him to judgement. But Feanor was not held guiltless, for he it was that had broken the peace of Valinor and drawn his sword upon his kinsman..." (Of the Silmarils)

I've said this a lot about the situation of the House of Finwe, but it was complicated. Do I think Finwe made the right choice in exiling himself with Feanor? No, not really. Do I see how he thought it was necessary or would cause less damage? Yeah, I do. People often don't see clearly when it comes to their kids, and I think Finwe has probably always harbored a lot of concern over Feanor because of what happened with Miriel, and possibly guilt over the fact that Feanor never reconciled himself to Finwe's remarriage or his additional children. He may feel that he needs to show this loyalty to Feanor to make up for the other things, or he may feel that leaving Feanor alone at this time will only make his mental condition worse.

Or he may just love Feanor more than his other kids. But I don't prefer that explanation.

Finwe is a flawed person. I certainly think it's possible to characterized him as a little selfish, and willfully blind to his children's conflict, and the scale of Feanor's dislike for his step-mother and her kids. But he'd hardly be the first parent to do that. I don't think there was ever any malice in it, and I don't generally take to interpretations that he openly and heavily favored Feanor over his other children. I think it may have felt that way to Indis' kids at times (although I don't think Feanor ever saw it that way, since he never seems to have managed to feel secure about anyone's affection), but I don't think Finwe genuinely loved Feanor more or wanted better things for him than the other kids. I think he was trying to balance Feanor's huge and volatile feelings with his own desires, and then with Indis' needs and the needs and desires of their children, and he probably was excessively concerned with Feanor's feelings--but Feanor also has a way of demanding people pay attention to his feelings.

In conclusion: Yeah I think Finwe made a subpar choice there, but I don't hate him or think he was awful (although perhaps something of an oblivious father). I think he wanted very much to believe that everything could be fine and good in Aman, so much so that he downplayed actual conflicts among the Noldor and particularly among his children, on the hope that everything would work itself out eventually (And who's to say? If not for Melkor, maybe it would have.) And in the end, he pays for those choices with his life.

[doodle-pops]

Oh wonderful— your reactions are open! 🥳

It'a snowing — and they just and angrument. So how would the elves to reader throwing a snowball to the back of their angrily?

With the words:

"By the Valar! I hate you— you stupid stubborn oaf!"

I wrote something like this for Maedhros and he just gets all cute.

Payback time. Ever heard about the revenge of the fallen, this is them. I hope your short legs can take you far because you're not going to. It's coming in hot and it's raining snow all of a sudden and you're being buried. Mercy doesn't exist because you knew better. This is how arguments are solved from now on during the winter. "Come on, fight me. Look at you, want to start a snowball fight but can't keep up...sad. Have another snowball."

CELEGORM, AMROD, AMRAS, FINGON, ARGON, Finrod, Aegnor, GLORFINDEL, Egalmoth, ELLADAN

"Hey, what was that for? Oh, to cool down! Blow of steam! Why are you so mean? Now, if I were to throw one right back at you...stop running," the game is on, but it's a less vicious one. You'll survive to tell the tale though, which is good. However, you're not winning. You must lose since you started it, and no crying and begging for mercy. "Why so sulky now sweetheart? I thought you wanted to play...come on, get up."

MAEDHROS, MALGOR, Celebrimbor, Finarfin, GALDOR, Rog, Elrohir

Give you the most disappointed look because you were just being childish and overreacting and then wait until you were facing away to toss a snowball at you. It's a fight but it's to see who annoys the other first, which is usually them. "Stop throwing snowballs at me...hey – why you little rascal."

Curufin, TURGON, Ecthelion, ERESTOR

[tolkien-feels]

I require a list of people Sauron has ever feared from most to least, please

I can't answer this ask without talking about amdir vs estel, so if you're not familiar with those, do skim over them.

Also I know you meant this jokingly but I find the serious answer very fascinating so I'll be serious. Sorry.

Okay here's the thing. Sauron's primary weapon seems to be fear (and despair, and betrayal, which are all related to fear), and he is himself described as afraid a few times. Of all the Valar, Morgoth alone feels fear, and from that, I tend to headcanon that Sauron feels a lot of fear. Because see, in Tolkien's world, fear is the opposite of estel, right? And estel, ultimately, is trust that Iluvatar's plan may not be thwarted. How can you possibly find the confidence of estel if your whole thing is that you oppose Iluvatar??

Sauron's hope at all times must be amdir. Which means he either must trust that he himself is powerful enough to face X person or Y event or he has nothing else to cling to. There's never going to be eagles coming or unexpected allies or Chance for him. And because he draws no comfort from "If I die, it'll be defending my home/friends/honor which I love" anything except victory is meaningless for him. So he has to win and it has to be by himself, because he only ever fights for himself. It's a horrible, horrible way to live and most of the reason why I genuinely pity Sauron, not because he's not evil (he is) but because being evil sucks. (At least in Tolkien's universe.)

So like, who does Sauron fear? Literally everybody who is a threat. And when you spend millennia exploiting people's willingness to betray each other and go from friend to threat... well, you would be stupid to trust even your must trusted servants, wouldn't you? So who is a threat to Sauron? Potentially everybody.

Now, because Sauron is arrogant, he wouldn't consider hobbits a threat. Yes he's relying on his own strength, but his strength is more than enough to handle hobbits. But this very arrogance makes it so that a given person either doesn't register in his mind or registers as a threat. Everything he pays attention to comes from a place of fear. At most he can probably conceptualize the idea of toys ie people he's paying attention to because it's fun to make them suffer, but they aren't very dangerous. But after the great Luthien fiasco I think he probably becomes a lot more pragmatic about that - he kills Celebrimbor fairly quickly, for instance. (And of course, there's the Frodo effect: certain threats fly under his radar because he's too arrogant.)

So who does Sauron fear? Basically everybody he's ever given any thought to, which is the entire reason he loses the War of the Ring.

[ladysternchen]

“Have you ever, just for the tiniest moment, considered what you are doing?” “What do you mean, have I considered what I am doing? Of course I have!”

Fëanáro saw his wife glaring at him, looking back at her with equal anger. Of course he considered. Only nobody else ever did, judging by their behaviour and their apparent blindness to what was going on around them.

“Then explain to me, please, why you are prepared to tear our family apart, and your people. You. Are. King, Fëanáro!”

He scoffed.

“Do you think I don’t know that? And I’m doing what a king is supposed to do, I lead my people to safety…”

“To safety?” Nerdanel cut across him, with an incredulous look on her face. “No, lord. You’re leading them to their doom, away from safety, undoing all the work your father…”

“Atar was fooled. He was fooled and brainwashed and…”

“Brainwashed? Brainwashed? Are you out of your mind?”

Sentences were randomly finished when they were rowing, and the fact faintly amused Fëanáro. He laughed.

“Yes, you are mad. You must be, because you laugh in a situation such as this! You are tearing our marriage apart. You are murdering our children, you…”

“I? No, Nerdanel, you do that. You are the one to betray me and my sons, you decided to side with the murderers of Atar, your King, Nerdanel!”

She took a few steadying breaths, and when she spoke again, her voice was calm, which made Fëanáro hope that she might be prepared to see sense now. A hope that was swiftly destroyed.

“The Valar did not murder your father! Morgoth did. They kept us safe…”

“They wanted us as their pets. Eru knows I loved my father, but he was weak in that point. Shortsighted. Unable to see through their lies…”

“No!” Nerdanel screamed now, looked deranged. “You idiot! You are the one to believe the lies! Your father saw sense! At least until he started listening to you and valuing gems more than family!”

“Don’t you dare…”

“Dare what? Tell you the truth?”

Fëanáro reached up into his hair, tearing at it. How could Nerdanel be so stupid? He had always thought her quick-witted, but apparently, he had been mistaken. Or she was just as brainwashed by the Valar as all the rest of them were. Did she not see? That they had lured the Eldar into coming to Aman? Robbed them of their native lands? Probably so that Morgoth could have them, he thought derisively. Oh, what a clever plan that had been, taking three boys and showing them Valinor. And like children offered sweets, they had gone back and persuaded the rest to follow, that dim-witted bunch. Oh, how they irked him with their imprecision. They had no sense for subtlety, no pride in their heritage, no desire to challenge themselves each day anew. They were lazy, lulled in by the Valar. But that was over now, he, Fëanaro, would see to that.

“You are talking nonsense!” he stated coldly. 

At this, Nerdanel reached out to him, grabbing the front of his robes. He pushed her off him.

“Don’t touch me!” He snarled, yet he had overdone it, had actually pushed her to the floor. He hadn’t meant that, but then, she knew perfectly well that he didn’t like to be touched unasked. It took him a moment to realise that she was crying, which confused him. He couldn’t possibly have hurt her that much?

“Our sons, Fëanáro, our children… please let them remain here, where it is safe.” Nerdanel sobbed. “Oh, I beg you, leave at least the twins. They are so young, they still need a home…”

He only snorted.

“You, Nerdanel, chose to desert them, not I!”

And with that, he turned, never to look back.  (There again, being autistic is no excuse for being an arsehole, which Fëanor is at that time)