#ereinixn

shout out to my loves @ftmviking and @ereinixn for a playlist shuffle meme!

playlist shuffle meme! you can tell a lot about a person by the type of music they listen to. put your music on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, then tag 10 people. no skipping. 

1. Smile featuring Casey Lee Williams by Jeff Williams (RWBY Vol. 5 soundtrack)

2. Constant Conversations by Passion Pit

3. Location by Khalid

4. SHADOWS by X Ambassadors

5. Ego by Milky Chance

6. Third Eye by Florence + The Machine

7. Blame It On Me by George Ezra

8. I Wouldn’t Be by Kodaline

9. Power by Bastille

10. 4AM by Bastile

“I am not empty of hope,” said Turgon. “I am only realistic. Even with aid from our kin, if any of our kin now could muster the men and arms to fight—Gondolin alone cannot stand against Morgoth’s wrath. But perhaps we can learn something from Nargothrond, and postpone this city’s end a little while longer.”

“You speak of learning from Nargothrond, yet you would not aid her when she fell.”

“Tyelperinquar,” Turgon said softly, “It is not that I would not come to your people’s aid, for I have not forgotten my friendship with Finrod of old. For Gondolin to break her watchful secrecy would have been the death of two cities, not one. I could not give that to Morgoth.”

“Finrod’s fatal flaw, I suppose.”

Turgon blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Finrod gave too much of himself. He gave, and gave, until he only had himself left. When he gave up his life, in the end, he also gave up Nargothrond’s.”

Turgon mused in silence over Celebrimbor’s words.

sons of fëanor: maedhros the tall

He was still unused to the crown on his head, feeling much too young to bear the weight of kingship. He could not believe, really, that Gondolin had fallen; it seemed the harbinger of a yet greater fall. The waters of Balar before him seemed to possess a calm he could not muster.

“Your people will endure.”

Cirdan stood beside him, two goblets of an effervescent liquid in his hands. “Though Arda falls around them, the Noldor will endure.”

Gil-galad looked at him curiously as he handed him a goblet. The lines in Cirdan’s face, so unusual among the Eldar, spoke to centuries of experience Gil-galad did not have.

“Kingship is a burden I thought I would never bear. I cannot be Fingon. I cannot be Turgon.”

“That crow looks like you, brother!” Celegorm exclaimed. “It has your beaky nose!”

“I do not have a beaky nose!”

Celegorm laughed, a full-bodied guffaw. “You so do! You got it from Grandfather.”

Caranthir opened and closed his mouth, no words coming out. His face burned. 

“Now your face matches Maedhros’ hair! You should see yourself; you’re a right sight.”

The crow cawed in seeming agreement. 

“Now don’t you start!” Caranthir yelled at the offending bird.

“Okay, I acquiesce,” Celegorm said. “Now I know that crow can’t be you. It has a sense of humor.”

She pictured her mother, starlit and white, almost divine in the radiance of Aman. Her brothers would run up the shore to meet her as their father walked behind, a joy he could not hide brilliant on his face.

She would never see any of them again. Luthien’s choice barred the Straight Road from her.

Cerin Amroth beckoned her closer, whispering words of twilight and Doom. She stumbled forward, the strange numbness moving sluggishly up her body hindering her steps. Death was closer now than it had ever been for her, though she had felt its gnawing darkness in her soul since Aragorn’s passing in his white tomb in Rath Dinen.

The smoke off Thangorodrim hissed around them, spitting angry red fire as the Eagles bore them upward. Her fingers fumbled as she frantically tried to stop the bleeding at the stump of Beren’s wrist. Her heart raced, and her tears flowed freely.

A part of her longed for the days in Doriath before this mad quest for her father’s Silmaril. She would give almost anything for clean grass beneath her feet and beeches sturdy above her head.

“Tinuviel, do not weep. It is not my time. I will not leave you yet.”

Beren smiled, though she could tell it pained him. A gush of love for him swelled in her chest. Perhaps those far-off halcyon days were not so ideal after all. Back then, I did not have him.