I attempted to woo a young woman in Numenor by singing to her from across a balcony, hoping to entice her with love songs. After perhaps two hours of my increasingly desperate musical pandering went totally and profoundly ignored, I gave up, my pride in tatters.
As I learned some time later in court, the lovely lady was deaf, and had no idea I had been serenading her all evening. Meanwhile, the surrounding palace assumed I was giving some sort of private concert.
Once, in the dark of the world, I caught one of the First Born under my claws. Before I could devour them, they asked to see a demonstration of my power. I destroyed a mountain. They were impressed, and asked to see me transform. I became a tower of flame and ice. They were impressed. They told me I was magnificent– which is very true– but said that since I was so grand, I could never hope to fit into a shape as delicate or intricate as the smallest of creatures.
Of course, I had to prove them wrong, so I transformed myself into a lovely golden scarab beetle– which they grabbed and threw into a flooding river.
By the time I returned to my natural shape I was a mile downstream. The First Born escaped into the woods, and I never saw them again.
In the early days of the war, I captured a Noldo commander thinking it was Fingon, and had him half way to Angband before I realized it was an unrelated elf with a penchant for ribbons and an elaborate coiffure.
During the Utumno years, I once gestured too emphatically at a wall–
S: *cough* had a tantrum *cough*
–FOR DRAMATIC EFFECT, causing a sizable stalactite to come loose from the ceiling–
S: a structural defect which I could have easily corrected had you let me…
–OF MY WONDERFUL AND BEAUTIFUL THRONE-CAVERN WHICH I CARVED MYSELF, and fall on my head; a cruel and unworthy trick of fate, which somemaia refuses to admit had nothing to do with the integrity of my architecture and everything to do with BAD LUCK and GEOLOGICAL RUDENESS.
My last wolf-shape was outrageously allergic to feathers, and I don’t know why.
Once a century or so, I drop a hammer on my foot. It keeps me humble.
During my sentence of servitude in Aman, I was once accused of stealing several valuable works of Vanyarin goldsmithing from a banquet table, when in fact I had simply mistaken the table ornaments for part of the meal.
In my initial attempts to create an aquatic fana, I failed spectacularly in my calculations for neutral buoyancy and weight distribution, resulting in a body that permanently oriented itself upside-down despite all my efforts, and sunk immediately to the floor.
I once removed a sword that had become lodged in a balrog’s front and back teeth. They required carbonized steel fillings, which meant making molds of the damaged teeth, which necessitated my spending several hours half-in and half-out of a balrog’s open, bloody maw, covered in acidic saliva.
It was my first and last foray into dentistry.
MisbehavingMaiar: Tumblr Archive 