@masteroftheseas Ossë, please Collect Your Man before he does something so ruinously embarrassing in my name that no one takes me seriously as Dark Lord ever again. Please.
Month: November 2016
It had taken him a while to tie the now mortal Maia up and drag him along but since Mairon had chosen to be bothersome and uncooperative Ji Indur had finally hoisted him over his shoulder and carried him away. Out of Barad Dûr and to the stables. On horseback they left Mordor, undisturbed by anybody as the wraith had made sure to gag his master and set a cloth bag over his head. Now they were making their way towards the place where Ji Indur’s ship was anchored, awaiting their arrival.
Mairon had exhausted himself rather early on as he tried to fight and didn’t realize how weak a human body is.
He slumped, even dozing off from sheer exhaustion as they traveled on horse-back. Because of this, he didn’t even realize where they were. He could barely hear the waves as his hearing had been muted.
He had barely been concious of what was going on around him because of the immense amount of water around him – pushing – flowing – threatening to drag him into the deeps – so in a way he was grateful that Ossë pulled him away from it.
It was painful however – much more painful than it had been when he was a maia – and he couldn’t help but yelp as he was hoisted up like that. His many years with Melkor had taught him to stay quiet most often however, so when Ossë twisted his hand in his hair, he remained silent. He knew how to lessen his pain somewhat, and therefore reached up to take hold of Ossë’s hand. It didn’t do much and he didn’t try to pry him off, but it helped to get some of the weight off his scalp.
He was panting heavily however, as he tried to understand what they were talking about. He didn’t get the details – He didn’t get the exact purpose of either of them – but it was very clear that Sauron would not help him.
Sauron – His brother to whom he had gone to get help in his hour of need – Would hurt him worse than Ossë ever could. No fair judgement… No fair trial…. Just the cruelty the two of them were known for.
“Traitor…!” he hissed at Sauron, before being cut off by how carelessly Ossë handled him. Even if he had planned on saying more things – spewing more accusations at his brother – the abrupt tossing of his fragile body made sure that he couldn’t say anything else.
It was a miracle that his neck didn’t snap (he had done so accidently with more than enough elves and men to know just how little force it took to break bones), but the force still tugged and tore at him. It put great strain on his muscles and nerves, and in some places the skin actually even tore, causing him to bleed.
Overall he was intact, but the physical trauma was still enough to make him whimper.
———-((Ossë’s reply))
“Traitor?” Sauron laughed. “But I am fulfilling the very letter of my word! I promised you I would protect your life, ensure you came to no harm for the duration of your curse, and so I shall!” He strode over the sand to where Ossë held his sibling prone and kicking in the air, his mewling sweet in the dark lord’s ear.He grasped Mairon’s narrow chin between gloved thumb and finger, squeezing hard with a creak of leather while his voice dripped honey. “I will take good care of you, brother, for as long as you shall live– and it will be a hundred years at least, I guarantee it,” he smiled. “Long enough for your hair to turn white and recede past your ears, for your skin to sag and turn spotty as old fruit, for all that is taut and smooth to loosen and wrinkle, for your amber eyes to grow dull and cloudy, for your gut to billow and your knees protrude, your back bend and your jowls quiver… Oh, my pretty, pretty brother… don’t worry. I’ll look after you even when you no longer have teeth to chew with, and any attempt you make to end your days before Eru calls you home, I will forestall. You see? I will be keeping my promise to you for years and years to come.”
He stroked Mairon’s fair cheek. It amused him to see his brother dangle so, like a child’s top in the hands of a storm. His cousin-Maia’s wrath was absolute, terrible as lightning at sea, chilling the air and whipping the surf into a lashing spray. It froze him to the core, but delighted him all the same.
Releasing his brother’s face roughly, he pulled back to address the towering figure of Ossë.
“I swear it,” he said, touching his chest. “And to you, wraith, I swear also: when his power is undone, you will be his servant no longer– nor any other’s. But we must hurry; it fast approaches the hour of the curse’s end.”
He beckoned to the kneeling corsair, one of the nine undead men his brother had enslaved to his power, the mirror of his own magic-bound servants. “You, friend of Ossë,” he urged, “you need not wait to receive your boon. I will give it to you now, as a gesture of good faith. Come, give me your ring-bearing hand, and I will unshackle you from his will.”
As they had reached the shore again, Ji Indur stood aside to not get in between the Maiar. He was but a mere mortal, nay even less than that and he knew that while Mairon’s anger could not hurt him right now, Sauron’s and osse’s fury could. And he doubted they would hold back should it come to more than just an exchange of angry words. Watching everything unfold with his master’s fury palpable in the air and yet it being such an empty, helpless fury- it did his heart well but somehow he couldn’t truly enjoy it.
Too often had he struggled like this, at the receiving end of the Dark Lord’s overpowering will. Out of control and like a puppet on strings. It was a fate he had not wished about anybody else, not even his worst enemy. But was it not Mairon who he hated the most? Was this a fate he wished for Him? To age, to grow old- it had been something the wraith had feared. Enough for him to take that accursed ring. To know that Mairon would suffer the fate he had tried to escape but would suffer it eternally…
Ah, it was odd. His anger had been drowned by the cold water, the flame extinguished and all he felt was a strange sort of pity for what would become of his master should Osse and he accept Sauron’s offer.
Though was there even a discussion to be had? Of course Sauron was right. Should the Master of the Seas use this moment to end Mairon’s life to take revenge, he would have to pay the price because the Valar would question him for such an act. But to keep Him alive and chained up… Eventually He would regain his powers. And then…
He had been kneeling as matters had gotten heated and now as Sauron called him, beckoning him closer, the Umbarim slowly rose to his feet and approached the Maia. Lifting his hand after removing his gauntlet he revealed the ring that had been stuck on his finger for four thousand years. There was a sudden profound fear. What if it was a trap? What if this was his last moment to be? But Ji Indur knew he could not falter, red eyes meeting golden amber fire as he took a deep breath.
“Free at last…” he said and was surprised how weak his own voice sounded, filled with fear and disbelief. ‘Tis was…too good to be true, was it not? “Take the ring away from me, I beg you. Let me roam the ocean forever, bound to and by nobody but my own will and the tides of time.”
On principle, Sauron liked the Men of the East. By nature or perhaps simply by accident of geography, they were largely free of indoctrination by elves or Valar. They had their own way of understanding the world, inclined to explore and study the earth to find answers, weaving their own philosophies from whole cloth. Here was one, he thought, who had drunk deep of the well of life and was loathe to give up its pleasures, even if it had cost him all freedom. It reminded him of a parable of a man who had sold his eyes for a chance to see the world; a sad fate, for one so beloved of the sea.
Not that he would have spared the man, had it been one of his rings on that finger and not his brother’s. Having a servant who was at once beholden to him and to Ossë, who could navigate the waters without fear of the ocean’s wrath, would be a powerful asset indeed.
Sauron reviewed his own words carefully– had he indeed promised that the corsair would be free of all powers, not only Mairon’s? Yes… damn it all. He had been too quick, too eager to close the deal between them, had not considered every potential gain.
A loss he would have to accept; if all went as planned, he would still come out ahead in this transaction.
Taking the salt-weathered hand in his own, he met the wraith’s eyes, whose weariness was so much older than the lined and handsome face that bore them. Time had taken much from him, and that was something it was not in the power of a Maia to return.
“Free you I shall, but I will not take the ring from you; not if you indeed wish to roam the sea forever,” he explained gently. “But it will be yours to remove, if your eternal life becomes too burdensome.”
Emerald facets flickered with moonlight. The ring was heavy and lustrous; it felt like wealth that wanted spending, like a laughing voice urging you to stay another hour. It would be difficult to unbind its power without breaking it, and without damaging the spirit it held in thrall.
In his mind, he held up its mechanism for scrutiny. He could see it’s power, a bright green circuit of light whose coursing energy was fed by a vast wheel of fire. The golden wheel had many such looping tributaries, twisted off from its main body like jeweler’s wire, each taking on a discreet color.
Carefully, he drew the razor of his mind between the green and the gold. He felt like a watchmaker attempting to fix a clock while it was still running. Sparks shot from the point of contact, for great ring fought against the loss of energy, resisted any change in momentum.
For a moment Sauron feared he would lose control-– but his own ring was equal to his brother’s, and its bright power matched it in speed, forcing stability on the rebelling system.
With utmost precision and perfect timing, he twisted off the circuit of green light, giving it a final push so that it continued spinning on its own power, independent of its source. Less bright than before, it nevertheless continued on its separate journey without a flicker.
Sauron opened his eyes, finding the gold band on his finger glowing white hot, until he released the corsair’s hand.
“It is done,” he breathed, aware suddenly of sweat on his brow, cooling along with his ring in the night air. He looked to Ossë and the dangling maia in mortal form that was his prisoner, and licked his lips. “…And now, by your leave and by my Cousin’s, I will take my brother, and bestow on him the fate he deserves.”

Incredible and gorgeous 17th century Ottoman tent from the Dresden State Art Collections.
so on the subject of stolen property, i’ve seen various arguments on this point but it is in fact true that inheriting something from a relative, when you know full well that it was stolen, does not make it yours.
this clearly goes doubly so for powerful magical artifacts, and especially for artifacts which are strongly implied to contain part of their creator’s soul!
you can talk about consequences – maybe the artifact in question has benefits for you, maybe you’re not convinced its rightful owners would use it responsibly – but talking about the consequences doesn’t erase the fact that whatever benefits you think you’re getting are achieved through wrongful means.
which is why i, too, think Frodo should have given the One Ring back to Sauron. thief.
|| I’ve also been among those who mostly used to read Nerdanel as a very combative woman, and her relationship with Fëanor as one heated up by occasional arguments, somewhat following the concept that, if she was his wife, then she certainly had the ability to stand her ground against him (by consequence, being a rather fiery personality herself). The opposing vision of her character was that of a meek individual, because somehow if she wasn’t the former, then she naturally had to be subjugated to his will (which she certainly wasn’t, as per canon). If he’s proud, then clearly she’s humble, or just as proud herself. She’s either tame or a wild redhead (nevermind that she isn’t even an actual redhead, if you wanna be excessively canon-compliant). If he’s resolute, then she’s unassertive, or entirely willing to start a shouting match.
But the more I think about how to include her in my interpretation of events, independently of other people’s headcanons, the more the dichotomy baffles me.
The one line that says how she is “free of mind” is just as important as the one that states how she sought to understand minds and not dominate them. And I think that’s the key, really. She is Nerdanel the Wise not simply because of her piety when it comes to the Valar, and Aulë specifically, but because of this propensity to understanding. That’s likely fundamental also when it comes to Fëanor specifically.
Yes, she has enough strength of will to oppose him in a discussion (or, really, their estrangement would never have happened), yes, she can engage his creative and scholarly mind (”filled with the desire of knowledge” and all that jazz) — but I think one of the really important parts of the relationship is how good she is at understanding him. I don’t say it because I believe he especially needed someone to understand him (though, when it comes to some of his very unique life cirumstances, it might very well have been the case), I mean it more to underline that she seems to me a very discerning woman. Her core, I believe, is neither meekness (wisdom doesn’t mean that) nor a rebellious and proud nature; she doesn’t have to be his opposite or to mirror him to stand on equal ground.
The part in which Fëanor was never made to change his mind by force? That’s relevant, too. The part in which he listened to her? I mean, I don’t know you guys, but you don’t listen to or trust the opinion of someone who yells in your face or even scolds you to fulfill the sassy wife trope. Not to mention that this depiction of marriage as something costantly argumentative or as a relationship in which the wife “puts up with” her husband is frankly a demeaning stereotype. Nerdanel chose that for herself, it isn’t as if it somehow happened out of the blue and without full awareness of the character of the man she was marrying; that assumption is insulting to her intelligence.
Anyway, Nerdanel musings. Sooner or later I might expand on this again.
gosh i love nerdanel
pick your battles. pick… pick fewer battles than that. put some battles back. that’s too many
Me, frantically trying to hold on to my armload of battles, battles falling out of my pockets: NO I need ALL these battles
every major character in the silmarillion to every other major character in the silmarillion at some point
For is there in life a beauty greater than to admire the new, to stand in awe of the never-ending creation of the world?
– Ofieri merchant
WE WENT TO DROP MY GREAT AUNT OFF AT HER APARTMENT AFTER THANKSGIVING DINNER
AND THERE WAS A FRIEND OUTSIDE
???
This has nothing to do with Tolkien i just really wanted to share the fact that I saw a rogue goat yesterday and got to pet it
I would pay 5 times to see Nazghul on ice.
It’s 9 of them shrieking while gliding gracefully across the ice.
i dont’ know what this post is about but i approve
ah, my favorite day of the week:

If by any chance you are up for it, I dare you to doodle Melkor wearing that dress you say he would wear unironically :D
TwT GOD I WANT TO!!! I’m visiting my parents’ house at the moment and the tablet I brought with me is TERRIBLE. I can’t get any decent line quality out of it and the cord is busted. As soon as I get home I will probably explode with outfit ideas :’D









