I’m not going to get all wrathful or provoked by this recent onslaught of forced truths and invasive questions!
Not at all!
No. I am a benevolent, and understanding Vala.
However, just as a precautionary measure, I will need all of you who asked questions while we were under the Truth Curse to line up single file, and if you would be so kind:
…………..
That’s it! Right into his big, beautiful eyes.
There we go. Don’t we all feel better now?
Gosh, I bet you can’t even remember why you came here or what you were doing! Well that’s a shame. Maybe it’ll come back to you on your way out the door.
Okay! Love you! bye! See you later! Okay! HAahaa, oh it’s been fun. Ciao! Buh bye!
I think they are by far the cruelest trick my Father ever played.
That they have survived this long is a mystery to me. I do not trust their “gifts”. I doubt even my father knew what they would amount to when he created them.
…I do not understand how they continue to thrive, knowing death stalks them and notwhat comes after. Men view their history collectively, yet their memories are short, and each one vanishes into that unknown forever… So many fail before they even begin, are forgotten, and even those who are remembered cannot truly be known by those who come after.
They are so brief.
I do not understand what makes them burn so brightly. They unsettle me.
He dared repeat a watery version of my own history back to me, as if he knew it better than myself. I had never spoken at length with any Second Born who could look me in the eye– imagine my surprise when the words spilling out of him reeked of my brethren’s lies. I hadn’t realized how deeply their foul myths had dug their roots into the realms of men. I hadn’t realized how desperately that garden wanted weeding. An example had to be set.
…And more than that, I could not abide to have a mortal man, a doomed, miserable race whose species had been dealt the worst hand of all my Father’s creatures– sing his praises before me, as if he truly believed every injustice shat upon him by the Theme was a gift from our Creator.
I hated him, hated his every word. And more so did I hate the reality I had to show him. Nothing and no one came to his aid. Whatever my savagery, remember it was the gods he trusted who failed to intervene on his behalf. No Valar armies waded over the sea to save his rotting hide as he watched you perform your farce of a life.
I would not suffer such a wretched fool to have hope in the face of death; not when I, who death touches not, fear its darkness so terribly.
Tsch… you test your limits with me, brother; asking so very many impertinent questions! Don’t you have have more pressing matters to attend? Curling your hair, maybe? Or tongue exercises?
No? A pity. Very well:
Item one: The Numenorian’s hospitality, and their impeccable standard of hygiene. The bath house in the capital was a favorite destination of mine; always ready to heat the waters particularly hot for my visits, and provide most exquisite attendants. Some of their number I admit to taking a special interest in… their company must be among my favorite things as well.
The second: I do, but only as a chick who has left the nest: I have flown to better things. I could not return to that narrow life now, even if I wax nostalgic for its moments of joy, or its solidity of purpose.
Aulë was as good to me as he knew how to be… as he could have been, as the father of my making, if not of my choice.
Thirdly: Yes. As should you. As should we all. One day perhaps, we will reach a level of industry that would allow us to explore such an expanse as the Outer Dark and probe its mysteries… but not the Void. It is that which is outside of Creation, a prison of unimaginable bleakness. What being trapped there would do to the mind… I shudder to think.
And finally: *Gestures to forging apron, encompassing his whole ensemble of boots, gloves, and capelet.* These are the most practical for working in. I don’t believe I have a favorite mode of attire, but this is certainly my most frequent.
…Anything else, dear brother? I don’t suppose you’d like to know the number of hairs on Drauglin’s ass, or which hand I favor for polishing my hammer?
“Hah! You think I need to curl my hair? Brother deary – I look like this naturally. No curling or oils needed. I admit I do treat myself with some old nùmenorian oils, as I miss them just as much as you do. And oh their jewelry and their sense of fashion! I almost find myself missing it at times – Especially the smell of our temple”
“And yes – of course I fear the void. As you say, we all should. That’s just how it is.
…. And concerning your ‘hammer polishing’ I would love to hear all about it~ The thought of you ‘polishing your hammer’ is quite… stirring after all. Do tell me – which hand do you use? Both for your literal hammer and your cock, deary”
“Both hands– for both hammers.”
*waits to see if the Truth Curse will contradict him*
REALLY? THAT IS THE BEST QUESTION YOU COULD COME UP WITH, YOU SON OF A SEAGULL??? Not “what doom are you planning on my descendants’ isle?” Not “how can the sons of my sons defeat you in battle”?? BUT THIS????
THE ANSWER IS I SHALL DO NOTHING ABOUT IT, FOR THOU’RT DEAD AND DUST ALREADY, THANK ALL THE IRON IN AULË’S EARTH.
I will not now nor have I ever called you a fool for trusting me. I have more respect for my own disguise than that. I lived that lie for centuries, I know it was perfect. You would had to have powers beyond your ken to suss me out. Even your witch cousin did not suspect me, though she refused my offers.
Yes. You were a means to an end– but I desired to include you in that end. We could have ruled together, if I had convinced you to abandon the Valar entirely, to help me regain what I’d lost. A witless pawn would have been useless to me: I wanted an ally. But I needed more time, I needed more power. The war would not be forgotten in the span of a season. I… rushed the final play. I was concerned that if I waited longer, I would forget my purpose. You had that effect on me. It was powerful. I feared it.
My fear cost me control of the elven kingdoms and my relationship with you, which I… I valued highly.
…My first memory is being born in my Father’s light, and feeling at the instant of my own awakening, the stirring of my twin’s. We knew nothing except the light and each other, and we were beautiful. Our backs and hands together, our minds resting peacefully against each other’s. We were Named, and called ourselves brothers. Then all our brethren followed; not for a solitary moment during creation did we experience loneliness, nor doubt.
Strange. I would want my final memories to be similar, if from a different angle. I never wish to be alone again.
Tsch… you test your limits with me, brother; asking so very many impertinent questions! Don’t you have have more pressing matters to attend? Curling your hair, maybe? Or tongue exercises?
No? A pity. Very well:
Item one: The Numenorian’s hospitality, and their impeccable standard of hygiene. The bath house in the capital was a favorite destination of mine; always ready to heat the waters particularly hot for my visits, and provide most exquisite attendants. Some of their number I admit to taking a special interest in… their company must be among my favorite things as well.
The second: I do, but only as a chick who has left the nest: I have flown to better things. I could not return to that narrow life now, even if I wax nostalgic for its moments of joy, or its solidity of purpose.
Aulë was as good to me as he knew how to be… as he could have been, as the father of my making, if not of my choice.
Thirdly: Yes. As should you. As should we all. One day perhaps, we will reach a level of industry that would allow us to explore such an expanse as the Outer Dark and probe its mysteries… but not the Void. It is that which is outside of Creation, a prison of unimaginable bleakness. What being trapped there would do to the mind… I shudder to think.
And finally: *Gestures to forging apron, encompassing his whole ensemble of boots, gloves, and capelet.* These are the most practical for working in. I don’t believe I have a favorite mode of attire, but this is certainly my most frequent.
…Anything else, dear brother? I don’t suppose you’d like to know the number of hairs on Drauglin’s ass, or which hand I favor for polishing my hammer?
We could have made something together, if he’d waited, if he’d trusted me–!
*bites down hard and hisses through teeth*
…No. I do not like speaking of Celebrimbor. I take no pleasure in reliving a moment that was both my greatest triumph and my greatest failure. I wove a lie so convincing I began to believe it myself, and when the web burned I burned with it.
Do not force me to speak of this again, or I will stitch your tongue to the roof of your craven mouth.
Strela– Arkona
Masha Scream of Arkona is Lady Celegorm and u can fite me
His face gave no signs of his thoughts or feelings. His fins were still, his eyes focused and yet eerily empty as he stared through Sauron.
“Heh.” He closed his eyes and dipped his head, fins beginning to gently flutter with imagined currents. “Ha! Oh, that is–!” The chitter that escaped him was shriller and more piercing than his usual playful laughter.
“That is– liberating? A relief. I am pleased that we were given this opportunity to speak so frankly, Cousin.” He lifted his head, and for as miserable and angry as Sauron looked, he was pleased and relaxed. “I had suspected, I think, but I suppose I am as naive as you claim. I held to a belief that perhaps we might have some strange, hopeless alliance, two outcasts who understood one another, who might not agree with one another but could at least respect one another. But of course we do not have that!” He laughed again, but there was a bitter note of humiliation and regret in his song.
“You are not wrong that I would not hesitate to cripple you if you were a direct threat to my loved ones, but you are wrong that I would use our ‘friendship’ to do it. Or perhaps, knowing now that there is truly no such thing, you are completely right.”
He stretched his lips into a smile, and he forced it to his eyes. “You say do not ask questions I do not want answers to; perhaps what you meant was I should not ask questions which you do not want to answer.”
Do not… ask me questions… you do not want the answers to.
…I manipulate my enemies. And you are… you have been, my enemy. You are easy to manipulate. You are naive and susceptible to flattery. But you show no weakness when it matters; I have never had the upper hand for long when our wills cross in earnest. Ulmo and his waters are at odds with my people, and always have been, even in my service to Aulë. But you and I are not hidebound in our allegiances– we agree as often as we do not.This friction is only a game between us, a pleasant diversion with a long-held, attractive competitor, a fair-weather friend. My end goal…
My end goal is to achieve my designs by any means necessary. I have always been ready to accept that one day you and I may have to fight until one of us vanquished completely. And if that day comes, I will use whatever knowledge of your weaknesses I possess in order to secure victory. Even things you have told me in confidence, things I would not betray otherwise.
I count you as a friend in times of peace, a potential ally in disputes that do not directly conflict with your duties. But you are and will always be a potential threat, and I would not hesitate to neutralize that threat if you stood in my way. I would eradicate you if it came to that.
–But look me in the eye and tell me you feel differently about me, Cousin. You’d do anything in your power to wipe me from the face of the earth if I was poised between you and your duties, you and the ones you love.
SAY IT. You’d use our friendship against me if you had to. Tell me I’m wrong.
His face gave no signs of his thoughts or feelings. His fins were still, his eyes focused and yet eerily empty as he stared through Sauron.
“Heh.” He closed his eyes and dipped his head, fins beginning to gently flutter with imagined currents. “Ha! Oh, that is–!” The chitter that escaped him was shriller and more piercing than his usual playful laughter.
“That is– liberating? A relief. I am pleased that we were given this opportunity to speak so frankly, Cousin.” He lifted his head, and for as miserable and angry as Sauron looked, he was pleased and relaxed. “I had suspected, I think, but I suppose I am as naive as you claim. I held to a belief that perhaps we might have some strange, hopeless alliance, two outcasts who understood one another, who might not agree with one another but could at least respect one another. But of course we do not have that!” He laughed again, but there was a bitter note of humiliation and regret in his song.
“You are not wrong that I would not hesitate to cripple you if you were a direct threat to my loved ones, but you are wrong that I would use our ‘friendship’ to do it. Or perhaps, knowing now that there is truly no such thing, you are completely right.”
He stretched his lips into a smile, and he forced it to his eyes. “You say do not ask questions I do not want answers to; perhaps what you meant was I should not ask questions which you do not want to answer.”
“I do respect you, you idiot fish!” he snarled. “But we are at war! And you wear your bleeding heart on your sleeve, for all to see! What am I to do? Forget that you have poured out your insecurities and sorrows on my shoulder in a time of open hostility?”
Sauron whipped round and paced in fury. “–An advantage is an advantage, and you have plied yours against me whenever you had the chance! IF you have not learned my weaknesses by now, it is because you were not paying attention! -I- am not to blame that you cannot compete with me in games of cunning! You would drown me if you had to– you would rub salt in my wounds, use my own heart against me– you are no better than I! Don’t deny it–!”
His lips drew back over bared teeth, but as the sorcery worked against him, he fought to keep them closed, jaw clenched as words forced their way past his defense. The compulsion towards truth was too strong.
“…I am sorry, Ossë. At one time, it could have been different between us. But the world is changed, and I find myself capable of more and more disgraceful things in order to survive as one Masterless…
We are strange and hopeless, and our games are dear to me. I would relish a chance to set aside our differences and work towards one goal. But I cannot be the friend you wish me to be; I have none in this age I would not betray if pressed. You are one of the few remaining, and the oldest of those, but you would be a fool to trust me.”
Do not… ask me questions… you do not want the answers to.
…I manipulate my enemies. And you are… you have been, my enemy. You are easy to manipulate. You are naive and susceptible to flattery. But you show no weakness when it matters; I have never had the upper hand for long when our wills cross in earnest. Ulmo and his waters are at odds with my people, and always have been, even in my service to Aulë. But you and I are not hidebound in our allegiances– we agree as often as we do not.This friction is only a game between us, a pleasant diversion with a long-held, attractive competitor, a fair-weather friend. My end goal…
My end goal is to achieve my designs by any means necessary. I have always been ready to accept that one day you and I may have to fight until one of us vanquished completely. And if that day comes, I will use whatever knowledge of your weaknesses I possess in order to secure victory. Even things you have told me in confidence, things I would not betray otherwise.
I count you as a friend in times of peace, a potential ally in disputes that do not directly conflict with your duties. But you are and will always be a potential threat, and I would not hesitate to neutralize that threat if you stood in my way. I would eradicate you if it came to that.
–But look me in the eye and tell me you feel differently about me, Cousin. You’d do anything in your power to wipe me from the face of the earth if I was poised between you and your duties, you and the ones you love.
SAY IT. You’d use our friendship against me if you had to. Tell me I’m wrong.
MisbehavingMaiar: Tumblr Archive 