#orodeth

the fate of finduilas

yes i know it wasn’t a river… but her tragedy is so ophelia coded to me. i will not elaborate. and i wanted to experiment with water

inspired by ophelia by millais

sketch + watch me struggle below the cut

Fingon & Orodeth : *looked at Tolkien*

Tolkien : *looked at his son*

Christopher Tolkien : oh shit.

The Finarfins! The last of the Finweans. Made on art breeder

“Sister!”  Orodeth hadn’t believed his older brother when he said that Artanis was coming to visit.  But here she was, having crossed the great distance from Doriath to Nargothrond and with nary an escort except one Sindar ellon.

“Brothers,” the quieter, almost smug reply from Artanis as Findarato folded her into a snug embrace.  Once freed, she gave a brief nod to Orodeth, then stepped back and extended a hand to the silver-haired ellon at her side.  “Daro, I know you’ve met before, but Orodeth, this is my husband, Celeborn.”

“Mae l’ovannen, Celeborn.”

“Elen sila lumen omentilvo”  The accent wasn’t quite right, but in Orodeth’s opinion it was quite good.

“Enough with the formalities!” Findarato took their hands and began leading them to the secret paths to Nargothrond.  “This is a time for family!”

The entered the city, but bypassed most of the public areas.  Tonight, Artanis and Celeborn would be formally presented to the cities, but first they would meet the newest Arafinwion.

“Oh, Orodeth, he’s adorable!”  Artanis had built a reputation on being cold and logical, to the point of being disturbing, especially as a young elleth, but her expression as she looked down at his son reminded him of Finduilas whenever his daughter asked to keep a new pet.  In fact the wide eyes and innocent smile were downright creepy.  “What have you decided to name him?”

Rian was still exhausted from the birth, but managed a tremulous smile.  “We’ve been arguing about that.  I’ve given him his mother-name already, but Orodeth hasn’t come up with a father-name.”

Celeborn broke in at that point.  “Isn’t it a little early to be giving him a father-name?  Usually the father-name is not given to the child until they are twelve years old in Menegroth.”

Rian blushed, which helped bring a bit of color back to her pale cheeks.  Against the dark mahogany of her hair, she had looked frail and ill; the birth had clearly been a difficult one.  “Well, yes, but little Ereinion here is a prince of the Noldor.  I thought it best to use Noldor traditions, rather than Sindar ones.”

Celeborn turned a rather accusing eye on Orodeth.  He waved his hands in the air, trying to convey without words that this had not been his idea.  Once again, he cursed the fact he hadn’t studied osanwe the way Artanis and Findarato had.  From the easing of the Sindar lord’s expression, he rather thought that Celeborn had more than a bit of that power too.  “A rather pretentious name,” the Sindar muttered.  “Especially since the child is not in line for any throne, not Doriath’s, not the Noldor, not even Nargothrond.”

Orodeth resisted the urge to growl at Celeborn.  Findarato had decreed that in his absence, the city was to be run by committee.  It was quite possible, even probably that in the event of Findarato’s death, Orodeth would be appointed heir anyway.  But the elder felt that the younger brother had mishandled the city while Findarato had been assisting Beren, so had taken steps to remove him from the chains of command.

Orodeth had somewhat relieved.  But Rian had been furious, and constantly kept pushing him to take back power.  The pretentious name had been her idea, to put the thought of heirs back in Findarato’s mind.  Their recent fights had all been more about that, than naming little Ereinion.

“Since he’s received a Noldorin name from his mother,” interjected Artanis, breaking up the staring war between her husband and her brother.  “He should receive a Sindarin name from his father.  It’s only fair.”

“That’s fine, but I still don’t know what to name him.  Alyn?  Raynatien?”

Y’all know how the Halls of Mandos are where elves go when they die and wait till their reborn. (Also the human afterlife waiting room to leave the world but that’s another story.) There’s apparently some sort of redemptive aspect, so elves who live relatively ‘good’ lives (Finrod, possibly Glorfindel) spend less time while ‘evil’ elves (Feanor, Eol) spend longer times or never leave at all.

But repentance involves acknowledging what you’ve done is wrong.  And I’m wondering if some of the ‘good’ elves end up spending a lot longer than the ‘evil’ elves.  It’s easy to see that major sins, the Kinslayings, killing your wife and trying to kill your son and betraying Gondolin are evil acts.  There’s the Oath and torture and maybe thinking you were going to die anyway and not in your right mind, but I think most people would agree that the outcomes of these events were downright awful and that the perpetrators were in the wrong.

But what about the contributors, the people who were not directly kill anyone, but had a clear measure of responsibility in what happened?  Thingol, would the Feanorians ever have invaded Doriath if you had just given up the Silmaril after Luthien died?  It brought about your death, Doriath lost Melian’s protection and later Sindar leaders used you as a model to their detriment.  Idril, did you have to isolate your grieving cousin when he had just lost both his parents and was looking for sympathy?  Maybe if he had felt he could trust his family you could have evacuated everyone (not just your husband’s House) long before the attack.  Orodeth, was scapegoating Celegorm and Curufin when all of Nargothrond chose to turn their backs on Finrod really your smartest idea?  Having more voices in council might have saved you from accepting Turin’s cursed ideas.

I think I’d like a fic about this one day.  When the some of the ‘villains’ of the First Age are released before some of the ‘victims’ because at least the ‘villains’ were capable of acknowledging their sins and seeking repentance, while the ‘victims’ are too self-righteous to admit their own faults and move on to healing.