A refuge

Lights of Arda for @tolkienrsb

by feyandferal (@feyandferal)

Foolish as Dior was, he had dreamed of powerlessness as a wicked form of relief, or pleasure even, the absolution of his every sin as he lay bare to the whims of his captors. How his people would whisper of a lone star, flaring one last time as the heavy shroud of Doom swallowed its resistance. No heroism was there to be found in days of healing and rest, no defiance to warm his veins, nothing to fill the endless days but voices through the wall. Dior survives the Second Kinslaying.

Explicit, Major Character Death

Maedhros dies. What next?

by atlantablack (@atlantablack)

Part 1 of it is not a sacrifice if you lose nothing in the giving

Fingolfin feels like part of him is still stuck in Beleriand, blood on his teeth and an all-consuming anger splintering out of control. Like he'll blink and once again see Morgoth's foot coming down. He wants—what does he want? He does not wish to be dead. He is, he supposes, grateful for this chance to fix things as much as they can be fixed. But Fingolfin wants, he still wants— —he wants for Fëanor to know him. Wants to work through all the ugly words and acts of violence that had divided them and come out the other side better for it. He cannot throw all the scathing anger in his chest at a brother who does not understand. Cannot scream at this Fëanor for burning the boats, for leaving them to the ice, for Elenwë, for Argon, for the countless others who had followed him and paid for it. And so what is he meant to do with the anger? He cannot swallow it all down forever while also salvaging his relationship with Fëanor in this new song. He wants, he thinks, watching a potter unmake a bowl that was marred, to unsing himself as well.

Teen, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

thank you so much! twofer goofer with @ecofutural, so placing you both gently into a nice shared terrarium well furnished with airholes and sticks and leaves and other such sundries | wip asks

no excerpt to share for this one yet since it's still in the planning stages, but it's the promised sequel to Heated chivalry and one of the contenders for my silm smut week entry! the titular little miss fujo is of course lalwen, who will be taking center stage to fantasize about what might've but didn't happen at the end of the first fic (nolofinwë dragging her and her boyfriends—who are also each other's boyfriends thanks to her—in to be "punished" for their indiscretions). the aspect of this that requires some figuring is how to distinguish the story as a fantasy: writing it all in the conditional seems too great a burden for the english language specifically to bear; my best idea at this point is just to put mid-fantasy lalwen interjections in parentheses or italics. but i don't want it to feel disjointed or disruptive, while still capturing the element of simultaneous "editing" that's going on as lalwen works each idea into a form that's hottest to her... if anyone has any suggestions for how to swing it formally, i'd love to hear!

The two of them are famously the case of friendship-lost-and-renewed, the grand symbol for the sons of Finwë returned to Beleriand, who despite all their internal conflicts, join forces upon Ard-galen, the eastern and the western marches coming together at the Dagor Aglareb to enact the Siege of Angband, and then, the attempt to replicate that victory at the Nirnaeth. Famously, “to take the might of Morgoth as between anvil and hammer, and break it to pieces.” 

The rescue itself is driven by preexisting emotion as much as politics: “the thought of their ancient friendship stung his heart”. And more so, I daresay, reading Fingon’s rescue as an act of pure spite and little else, does a disservice to his character. Strips him of what is perhaps his greatest contribution to this narrative: preventing civil war among the Noldor.

Then Fingon the valiant, son of Fingolfin, resolved to heal the feud that divided the Noldor, before their Enemy should be ready for war.

and then:

Thus he rescued his friend of old from torment, and their love was renewed; and the hatred between the houses of Fingolfin and Fëanor was assuaged.

Three entire years pass between the arrival of Fingolfin’s host at Mitrhim (FA 2) to Fingon’s rescue mission (FA 5). In some versions, this timeline gets stretched to five years. Telling us that this is not some rash, spur-of-the-moment thing, but a premeditated action, likely driven by desperation from the circumstances at Mithrim. Without Fingon’s deed, there would be no victories for the Noldor, no Long Peace, no meeting of the Edain and Eldar. They would be swept by Morgoth’s armies, one by one, and swiftly.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all for complicating their relationship, whether it’s being read as a brothers-in-arms platonic ordeal or as a ship. I shout my triple hoorays for giving them glass-sharp edges. Hell, in my own writing I make them kill the other and torment them and never ever give them peace.

But I don’t think we need an entirely callous interpretation of Fingon’s character to make this friend(ship) full of worms and spikes.

How can a very strong friendship be so politically poisoned that it’s shattered to pieces? What drives two people who love each other deeply to become vicious political opponents? 

What of the Noldor discriminating against the lack of beauty? Of Fingon, drenched in Valarin light, now needing to teach himself not to recoil from what is mired?