I have to say this is absolutely superb writing, chilling, but gorgeous like a wonderful tapestry that you only see is woven out of blood and sinew when you look closely
Thank you so much for this amazingly well written review I mean: woven out of blood and sinew. And I had a lot of feels about tapestries (something about Fingolfin's thread being frozen and Mirfin's bloodied). And it's wonderfully horrific too <3 Thank you !!!
No, don’t be concerned about that, as it was beautifully written, and I love it; and I find it amazing that you’re not a native English speaker. That kind of tone of the Silmarillion is something I loved about it, and so when I read it in fanfic I squee!
These chapters were betaed in order to clean a bit of non-native stuffs, and I can't thank my beta enough for that! I was pleasantly surprised about Faelin's tale though, because it's one of the parts that needed few corrections.
There will be other parts written like since since I want to give the full tale of Miriel and Finwë!
Ahyar came back washed of weakness. He had hunted the Shadow and vanquished the creature; but he had not killed it. He had pushed its muzzle into the ground and whispered words only he knew into its ear. He sold freedom back to his prey and received power in payment.
“I shall set Laws for our people, and those Laws shall protect us. This I say: the Shadows will not prey on us, for I have tamed them; but their submission is not free, and sacrifices must be made. Each time the Brightest Star will go down the horizon, I shall read Truth in the bones and bloods of beasts. Let the Great Mother chose the least deserving of us, and shall this one be given to the Shadows. Out the sacrifice of one, I create peace for all.”
There were some among the elves who would not agree, for it seemed to them that because Ahyar had vanquished alone, they could secure a great victory if they worked together. But Ahyar spoke, then, with a voice terrible and great, and put such fear into their heart that his brothers and sisters bowed to his will, and nothing was done against his rule.
For many years the Peace of Ahyar stood. At the end of each year the Brightest Star disappeared, and Ahyar would split open the belly of a beast to read the name of the cursed one from a bleeding liver; only the cursed ones were always elves he despised, so his kin learnt to fear him, and soon they called him King.
I love this, because there is something very bardic, very poetic in this writing, like the Silmarillion itself
I admit I was a bit scared that some people would find Ahyar far too powerful for an elf, but apparently people like his story! Writing this part was a real PAIN because as a non-native speaker, changing style to something more poetic is really hard. I tried to go for a Silm type of writing and got inspiration from some parts ("But Ahyar spoke, then, with a voice terrible and great, and put such fear into their heart that his brothers and sisters bowed to his will, and nothing was done against his rule." is almost a copy of Curufin in Nargothrond, and the description of Ahyar is meant to sound a lot like the descriptions of Fëanor). Bards gonna do bardic things!
I think that part of the inspiration for making Ahyar somewhat godlike is partly inspired by the godly ascent you gave some of your characters, though ascent in this verse works differently (mostly by taking power directly from Powers or being gifted some of their power; needless to say Ahyar is the kind of elf who will eat the corpse of a Power or force it out from them, he's definitly not going to ask nicely).
Thank you for your kind review!
This is so beautifully written, but so very sad. Fingolfin building a fortress where Fëanor died.
The walls grow higher each day, and soon the grove is enclosed by them. As he stands near the white stones of the cairn, turned toward the Thangorodrim, Nolofinwë cannot see anything but the dull, grey stones of the walls. He can picture his nephews and with them his brother, his face contorted in anger, his silver eyes turned toward Morgoth, and wonders if by blocking the view, he somehow helped Fëanaro find a kind of peace.
And I had to rush on to this, as it’s so intriguing. The ivory mask turns to her. Featureless; unreadable, the eyes blank and empty. “We shall have peace with Fingolfin, in time, and we wish for our dear friends of the Islands to stand by his side when he bends the knee to the true Gods of Beleriand.”
Ai, ai! What is happening. Hmm.
The moment I understood Fëanor had died where Fingolfin later built his fortress, I knew I had to do something with that. I doubt Fingolfin decided to build Barad Eithel there because Fëanor died here, but he still wouldn't be able to forget about this. He has so many unresolved issues about Fëanor, it is a constant reminder of everything that he wanted to say and didn't.
The Shadow! I am glad you find him intriguing, he's one of my favourite Angband babies! He is a spy from Angband, and from what he says (but that may be a lie), Morgoth wants to convince Fingolfin to become his vassal. The Feast of Reuniting takes place 40 years before the Noldor's great victory and the beginning of the Siege, so the military situation is not yet in favour of either side of the war and Morgoth is still trying some diplomacy I guess.
Thank you so much for the review <3
I do think the sexual tension between these two is fab - and the mysticism of the avari intriguing. There are moments as well when the writing really transcends fanfic and is sublime even though I personally don't like present tense writing- I find it too fanficcy- but I enjoyed this enough to push past that personal preference and I am glad I did. I think the story you are writing for Aredhel is the most interesting I have read actually and there are some images in this to die for.
The sexual tension just happened, I did not plan for this but... I was just incapable of writing those two without it, so I just thought why not, let's do this! I feel like Naswë is something between Celegorm (same hair color, follower of Oromë, talks to animals) and Eöl (very tall, severe face, mostly unlikable) and that's why the tension seemed plausible to me. I am really happy you liked Aredhel in this! She wasn't planned, just took the spotlight and decided that she would be in the story, and that she deserved her own character arc. She was very pleasant to write, we will definitly see her again in Feast!
I can't remember why I chose the present tense for this one. Perhaps I did not feel like I would be able to write this fully in the past, because when I do I end up with a lot of weird constructions. I am not a native speaker and sometimes, I get really self conscious about all the mistakes I make. The first chapters were beta-ed by Bunn/Cycas and are much better now, but I really feel like my writing is a bit too flat for the story I want to tell (except when I need to tell about Aredhel's need to hunt Fëanor's uncle lol). I am relieved that at least one person thinks my writing is beautiful <3
I am currently writing chapter chapter 9 (6 for Faerie) and am really happy with how it's turning out. I hope to be able to finish it either tonight or tomorrow!
Fingolfin wrenches himself back to Irvin; to the crude lanterns hanging from the branches of trees, worn carpets, worn clothes, worn instruments playing worn music and worn people looking at him like he is more than a worn prince playing king in foreign lands he barely knows. He smiles like he is still a young and happy host, greeting group after group to the Great Feast of Reuniting, and pretends he is not afraid that Morgoth will invite himself with darkness, blood and murder.
This is terrific imagery! And I love the encounter with Maedhros. You deserve more reviews actually.
Thank your for the review! I do not mind much for the number of reviews, I got some nice ones on AO3, where I actually reviews a lot currently, I guess I'll get more reviews from Faerie when I will switch back to read here :) and the story is still going, so there's still plenty of time to get reviews!
I am happy you liked Fingolfin's depressing thoughts! He's going to have a lot more of those during this story (and a few happy ones let's be honest!).
Fingolfin wrenches himself back to Irvin; to the crude lanterns hanging from the branches of trees, worn carpets, worn cloths, worn instruments playing worn music and worn people looking at him like he is more than a worn prince playing king in foreign lands he barely knows.
Keep faith Fingolfin, there's still 400 years to go!