SparkAll light had failed.Spark2 years ago in Drama More Like This
There was only darkness. Darkness, and him, and the pain. The pain was the only thing that was not dark. When Maedhros closed his eyes, the pain even blocked out the darkness, drowning it, mostly red, sometimes white.
There were no stars; even they had failed. Maybe they were still there somewhere, above the reeking fumes and smokes of the furnaces of Angband. Maybe they were already gone. Maybe the world was already gone. He had no way of knowing. Sometimes, it would rain, but the rain was black and oily, and it stank. There was no clean thing left in the world. It burned in his eyes and in the many wounds upon his body.
There were no voices, no sounds except the wind. The Orcs did not come up here. He thought that, ultimately, that was why they had chained him here. Down in the dungeons, even when they'd tortured him, there had still been something in him that had fought. Just seeing their faces had filled him with a burning fire of hatred, and the hatred had fu
Spark - chapter 5StrengthSpark - chapter 52 years ago in Drama More Like This
"So Fingon has told you."
"I found out on my own."
"We thought it would be best not to tell you until you were stronger."
"That would have been quite a feat."
Maglor shot his older brother an almost anxious glance, not asking the next question: So how did you take it?
Maedhros was sitting up in bed again, propped up against pillows, as he had almost all the time since the previous day. His back, shoulder and arm weren't taking it well, but he was determined not to give up any hard-earned ground. Sitting up had meant having his right arm in plain sight for twenty-four hours. He had risen to the challenge, having spent most of that time staring at the stump, trying to accept that it was a part of him now.
He could not deny that the discovery that he was maimed had left him badly shaken. It had cast a doubt on every single thing that he had been clinging to since first realising that his ordeal was over. Revenge. Strength. Normality. Fingon's reac
Maedhros: Son of FireHe was the fireMaedhros: Son of Fire3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Wine until bottom
And pain of fame
He was my father
His anger like flood
We sealed our Oath
In fire and blood
The flame extinguished
By Oath we're still bound
Through tears and pain
No rest to be found
The blood on my hands
And my hand in chains
What was it for
When nothing remains?
The Light we sought, burns
So close, yet so far
We are not worthy
To touch a star
Burning flame, take me
And clean the stain
Take the cursed Jewel
And end my pain!
In fire it started
In fire it ends
Just like my father
The fire in my veins
Royal Houses of GondolinName House of the KingRoyal Houses of Gondolin7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Function Bodyguard of the King's family
Traits Wear red, white and gold
Leader Turgon the Wise
Trait King of Gondolin
Bravest warrior in Gondolin
Name House of th
80 things learned from TolkienPretty, shiny things are hazardous to your health.80 things learned from Tolkien5 years ago in Humor More Like This
This is because the Law of Attraction is multiplied 100x once you look at them
Hobbits state the overly obvious
Chocolate is nonexistent in Middle-Earth.
Arwen stole Glorfindel's horse.
Beer and Tobacco seem to have a beneficial effect on hobbits
Never make fires in questionable caves
Kick a troll, and your foot will break
Elvish accents are low and whispery
Never sleep in a boat if your Dad is a Pyromaniac
Don't give twins the exact same name
Imitating voices can come in handy
Running at your brother with a sword and shouting at him in old-fashioned language will get you a big time-out
Really, really big dogs are very useful
Being good at riddles can save your life
Giant spiders freak out elves big-time
Elrond should have pushed Isildur into the crack of doom
Sauron once got pwned by a girl
If you insult any of Tùrin's female relatives, you will find yourself impaled on a rock at the bottom of a raging river.
Speaking of w
Spark - final chapterBurdenSpark - final chapter2 years ago in Drama More Like This
The lake-shore lay under several inches of snow, the lake frozen and covered with a white blanket. Maedhros sat leaning against the trunk of a leafless willow, whose branches vanished into the ice, hung with glittering icicles like glass beads. The sinking sun threw long-fingered shadows across the icy lake and frozen fields, creeping behind the Mountains of Mithrim in the west, in what felt to Maedhros like a constant reminder that no hope would come from that direction.
He was wrapped in a warm cloak against the cold, his right arm in a sling to prevent him from jolting movements. The stump was still tender to the touch, but he knew that, in time, it would heal completely.
The lake lay to his right, the last rays of sunlight turning it into a glittering spectacle trying to catch his eye, but he was not looking at it. His gaze was to the northeast.
There, across the peaks of Ered Wethrin, lay Angband. The day had been grey and cloudy, so he could barely make out the moun
Spark - chapter 3GuiltSpark - chapter 32 years ago in Drama More Like This
Turgon's voice was cold. It was always cold when Maedhros heard him speak, which was seldom. Fingolfin's and most of the others' were usually rather flat around him, even the healers'.
"His brother is at the gate."
Fingon turned from his chair at Maedhros' bed to look at his brother standing in the door. "Which of them?" he asked in surprise.
Turgon laughed without humour. "Does it matter?"
"It does. Can you imagine Caranthir walking through our camp? There'd be blood."
"It's Maglor. So there probably won't be blood. Not that he'd deserve it any less." Turgon's voice was dark with resentment. "Atar allowed him to pass. Mainly because he had the decency to request, not to demand."
"Leave him in peace," Fingon said wearily. "He is here to see his brother, no more."
"Why did you have to bring him here?" Turgon said bitterly. "He's got more than enough brothers on the other side of the lake whom it wouldn't hurt to have their share in nursing him back to health."
Spark - chapter 2WordsSpark - chapter 22 years ago in Drama More Like This
Words and music. Two things that were so far removed that it took Maedhros a while to even realize they were there. His mind still did not understand them, but his heart did, at least in part. It recognized them as something to break through the endless cycle of painful heartbeats, and left him no say in the matter. He suddenly found that it had the music, and the words, as if it remembered them from a time long ago, though that seemed impossible. They came automatically, forcing themselves out of him with such strength that he couldn't hold them back. He sang the words, sang the music, without having any recollection of how to sing, or how to speak.
He fell silent with exhaustion, and found that not only his song, but also the other had stopped. There was no despair. He accepted it, as he had accepted everything for so long, until a voice cried out to him.
He stood there, a spectre from a different life, a tiny figure cut out from paper and stuck into the wrong picture,
Did He Not Come HereFëanor asks it of all of them. Each new soul to walk within the Halls of Mandos is sought out and given his questions. He is brilliant and he is driven, and not knowing is a thing he cannot bear.Did He Not Come Here2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Even those who've had no cause to wish him well answer when they see the look in his eyes, the need to know the answer to his questions.
"Where is Macalaurë, also called Maglor? How fares my son?"
Always, they do not know. And always, always, they look to Maedhros as they ask, "Did he not come here with you?"
An Old LegendAn Old Legend3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Ages long gone and ages long passed
Shades of grey, man's memory fades fast
The glory days told of old
Shines as brightly as silver and gold
Before the dark, before the strife
Before many of the spans of life
There lied the glory that men bore
The gilded light of Westernesse's shore
That era of brilliance, that age of wealth
That time of wisdom and of great health
Those days are passed or so it is said
As now the great kings of lore lie dead
Is there a hope against such reckless hate?
Where does it lie? The enemy's gate
Draws nearer every day
And now there is little that holds him at bay
But still we hold on to legends and tales
What more will we have when the strength of men fails?
There is still one yet who holds the power
To aid this land in its darkest hour.
From father to son, the title has been given
In the shadows these brave people have striven
To drive away the darkness that besets all
While there is still life in them, men shall not fall
I know the king shall come again, f
The AvariBorn of the Quendi, were they,The Avari7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The result of their races First Sunder.
Chose, they did, to remain in the land of their birth,
When for the West, the others did hunger.
No desire have we for Treelight, said they.
The stars are all we need.
And so when the other Kindred set forth,
The summons of the Powers they did not heed.
No, was their reply to the Emissaries,
The land of our birth we will not forsake.
So remain behind they did, when the others crossed the Sea;
By the waters where their kind did awake.
New names were given to the sundered group-
The Firstborn of which this song is telling.
For while those who set forth became The People of the Stars,
Those who remained behind were called The Unwilling.
A tribal people were they, with neither cities nor kings,
Of them few tales and no fame;
But first were they to greet the Secondborn,
And their teachers they became.
Spark - chapter 4MaimedSpark - chapter 42 years ago in Drama More Like This
His broken shoulder was finally healing. The healers had expressed their amazement at the fact, but for Maedhros, it didn't bring that much of a change for the better. Progress and healing were still slow. He could turn his head without passing out from dizziness, and he found he could even move his right arm again, but it felt so strange, alien, and raw, that he mostly remained lying the way he was, still enduring them doing almost everything for him. And there was something else, a nagging fear of something unspoken. He had not had a look at his right hand in all this time.
"What aren't you telling me?" he finally found the courage to ask Fingon one evening, after the bandages were changed and the healer had left.
Fingon became just a bit too preoccupied with rearranging the covers. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"My hand won't heal, will it?"
Fingon looked down at his hands. It was slightly more difficult to read his face when he was not meeting Maedhros' eyes.
"Don't lie to m
The Parentage of Gil-galadThe Parentage of Gil-galadThe Parentage of Gil-galad3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Warnings: Complete and utter crack. Rather OOC Maedhros, dense teenage Gil-galad, mentions of slash and mpreg (neither of which are taken seriously at all). Basically just complete silliness. Apologies for bad Star Wars reference.
Initially, the news that one of the sons of Fëanor was riding into the refugee settlement at the Mouths of Sirion caused something of a panic. Every few minutes, one of the terrified Falathrim or Sindar would come bursting through the door of Círdan the Shipwright, crying, "They have come for the Silmarils! We're all going to die!" and continuing to babble in that vein until Círdan calmly pointed out that it was highly unlikely, considering that no one there had any Silmarils in the first place. This continued for a good hour, until a messenger bearing the Fëanorian star arrived at the aforementioned door with a rather strange m
Sand and MusicSand and MusicSand and Music3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He feels he cannot walk another step, until he does. The next step is the same, and the next, and he has stopped counting the sunsets and sunrises because measuring eternity has no purpose. He has wandered an eternity already, carrying his small harp for some indeterminable, compulsive reason, because it will be years before he can play again, if ever, and the sand blows into his eyes and into his throat as he sings. His hands are burnt and scarred and his voice is hoarse, and he wants to rip the strings from the taunting harp and scream, but he is unable to do either because it hurts too much.
Every muscle that has been on fire begins to numb from sheer fatigue, and he feels that he will die without food but is too weak from walking to fish or hunt- but then, Maitimo survived thirty-some years without food, didn't he- and now he is thinking of Maitimo again and he swore to himself that he would not think of them right now.&
Common Sindarin PhrasesCommon Sindarin Phrases3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Common Phrases in Sindarin
Sindarin is technically not a functional language, there are so many words missing. Simple words are just simply non-existant. But there is some help for the language, it's a beautiful, poetic, and its in Lord of the Rings for goodness sake.
If there are any phrases that you would like to see me translate, feel free to contact me and I will add them to the list.
So you may want to review this page many times after seeing it for the first time.
"thou" : formal
"you" : informal
-----a dash before the characters make it a suffix that is used for verbs and possessive
Formal: lín ; informal: -ch
Formal: -l (obscure) pl: -dh ; informal: -g ; pl: -ch
(the reason the l is obscure is because it can often be confused with a verb tense that is why it is best to avoid it)
__1: Aiya "Hail" [this one stems from Que
At FaultAt Fault3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"They were just children!" Elwing shrieked, viciously pushing her cousin away.
"Elwing " Celeborn attempted to console his young relative, but she refused to be comforted.
"You left them! You left and now they're gone." The young elith collapsed on the ground, sobbing. She clutched her stomach, fighting the physical agony which assailed her. Agony and guilt. She should have been there. She should have made certain her brothers were following. She should not have left them.
The attack happened so fast she could barely separate the jumbled, nightmarish events, but it seemed like slow motion at the time. The elves of Doriath knew that a battle with the sons of Feanor was possible. Elwing's father, King Dior refused to relinquish the silmaril he had inherited from his parents. They were prepared to defend Doriath, but they were not prepared for the savage brutality of the Noldor. The Noldor killed without conscience.
She remembered being kissed by her mother. She remembered her f
The NoldorMighty are the Second Kindred,The Noldor7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Strong and brave and fair;
Fierce they are and proud,
Tall and dark of hair;
Filled with passion and iron of will,
A two edged sword this can be.
Never do they turn aside from their propose,
From no enemy do they flee.
Ache their hands do to craft and create,
Beloved of the Smith are they.
Burn their minds do for knowledge,
But into folly they sometimes stray.
Lovers of hills and open lands,
The Watchtower their first home.
Many other glorious kingdoms did they build,
Seven High Kings they have known.
Kings and Queens of Numenor KINGS AND QUEENS OF NUMENORKings and Queens of Numenor7 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
THE EARLY DAYS
LossTurgonLoss3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
My brother is gone.
The deafening clashes and shrieks of battle dim and blur together in my ears as I stand, rooted, in the frenzy, staring at the swirling clouds of flame and dust where his banner fell. Through the haze of my sorrow, it hits me like a kick to the stomach that with his passing, and no heir to his line, I have in the space of a few seconds become the High King of our people. I am the last of Nolofinwë's children, and I am alone, as is my beloved Gondolin; and we both will be discovered and destroyed as surely as will all the realms of the Eldar in Middle Earth.
I am pulled from my stupor by the captains of Men, and must abandon my fatalistic thoughts for action, though the overwhelming grief for my father's house refuses to loosen its clutches so easily. I fight on because I can do nothing else, and my eyes sting, though from dust or tears I do not know.
As I order a full retreat, my voice breaks and I curse the F
J. R. R. TolkienJust see who entersJ. R. R. Tolkien3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
the realm of dreams
that none have seen
legends of old
Molding them into
Reaping the fruits
that in his mind grow
to rivers of words
that from his pen flow
Travel through the lands,
follow the dream
He gives you his hand...
Enter with him!
The Houses of the Edain THE HOUSE OF BEORThe Houses of the Edain7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The 1st House of the Edain
The first of the Edain to enter Beleriand
First discovered by Finrod
Greatly loved by the Noldor
Dark haired and grey eyed
Famous for their love of learning
Estolad Year 311-355 1st Age of the Sun
Dorthonian Year 355-455 1st Age of the Sun
Dor-lomin Year 455-472 1st Age of the
Of Names and DecisionsFair child without sorrowOf Names and Decisions3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Is your life hollow,
Dreams are just small seeds
Adventures, great deeds
Ripen long since…
A burning fire
That’s your desire:
Onwards without wince
In the light of Two Trees
Noon of Valinor's bliss
Over the wide sea, though
Lie the lands you don't know
Distant and wild
Oh, eager child...
Faithful and steady
Is you oath ready,
Reaping the visions
Of your decisions
Darkness will sink
For the oath spoken
A new hope is born
Grief of those who mourn
Up to sky flew
New day is coming
Dawning in blue
Celeborn and Galadriel: 1. IntroductionThe first time you see him, he is gracefully moving so as not to bump into you. He doesn't stop to acknowledge you as courtesy requires, but you can see he's in a hurry. Later you learn that he has just come back from patrolling the forests, bearing urgent news to Elu Thingol's ears alone. You also learn he is dividing his time mostly between counseling Thingol and captain duties.Celeborn and Galadriel: 1. Introduction3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
When you're finally introduced he is clean, his bright silver hair straight and unbraided and his eyes have a depth of wisdom to them, even though he is relatively young. "I apologize, Lady, for so rudely ignoring you," he says politely; you smile and nod your acceptance. He walks away.
You see her in the library one morning, gazing into the room, eyes unseeing. Anor has caught her hair, making it even more brilliant then it seemed in the torch-lit hall. You keep watching her for a time, till you realize the line you thought was the shadow of a tree is a tears' stain. Silently you disappear, guessing (rig
Eol of DoriathEol of DoriathEol of Doriath7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
The Khazad oft tell stories
To pass away the time
Of lords and kings and dragons,
Of rhythm and of rhyme
And if you are invited
Down their steep and craggy paths,
The Dwarves might tell the story
Of Eol of Doriath.
A prince he was of Kingdom old,
Beautiful and proud
Younger brother of Fingollo
He stood out in any crowd
Yet darkness clung onto Eol
As flowers cling to life,
As beautiful as he was dark,
Eol was wrought with strife.
Proud Gondolin of seven names,
That city, it will fall
And you, Eol of Doriath
Will augment it all.
A child of your darker blood
Will one day meet with light.
Love will eat his very core
And strike with knives of night.
So spoke a Seer one dark day
To Fingollos younger brother;
Eol could not believe it so,
But ran from his childs mother.
His flight from Doriath was swift,
As yet without sin, but a plan to atone;
The simplest way to keep Gondolin safe
Was to ever be alone.
The Morquendi w