Fellowship of the King Book II Chapter Six: The Treasury of Elendil

[masterghandalf]

This is a repost from Das_sporking2. Previous installments of this sporking may be found here.



MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Demetrious Polychron’s Fellowship of the King! Last time, we had an absolutely ridiculous battle scene blow up out of nowhere, literally, Our Heroes slaughtered the new and improved (may not be as improved as advertised) Ringwraiths, Sam died and came back to life, Erestor died and didn’t come back to life, Thuringel got a cliched villain speech where she gloated over the captive Arwen, and Aragorn was there too, via palantir. Whew. Today, it’s time for everyone to receive the fruits of their labors – stuff. Lots and lots of stuff. Because that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Joining us today will be Shade and Sonam!

Chapter 6: The Treasury Of Elendil

The royal guards of the Palace of Anor and the men-at-arms of Gondor packed and removed the marble pillar and Palantír of Osgiliath from Weathertop. They carried them down the winding, slippery path to be loaded on the carts and horses waiting a thousand feet below.

Sonam: So, did Celendrian tell everyone they needed to bring carts and horses specifically sized to transport not only marble pillars but also a giant Palantir, or did they just happen to have that for no reason?

At the center of what had been the ground floor of a once mighty fallen tower, Elladan and Elrohir knelt before the edge of a large square stone. There they searched for inscriptions and hidden runes of power.

MG: …which seems like more of a dwarf thing than a Numenorean thing, tbh. Did Elendil outsource the building of the Tower of Amon Sul, by chance?

“We don’t have time to wait for the Moon,” Alatar said. He raised his glowing staff.

Shade: Whoa, buddy! Do you even have any idea of what you’re doing? Do you even know for sure the “hidden runes” are moon-letters, or ithildin or whatever you think they are? Take it from a professional, you’re about to bumble right into a trap and get yourself blown up, aren’t you? *beat* On second thought, be my guest!

Plot-Induced Stupidity: 159

“Wait!” the twins shouted.

The wizard had already driven his staff down and he struck the grey stone.

Shade: *facepalms*

A blinding flash and thunderclap blasted him across Weathertop. The burst knocked everyone else back. Only Alatar’s windward enchantments prevented him from flying off the hill. Teetering over the edge, a powerful gust pushed him back. He fell hard to the ground and dropped his staff. It clattered to the floor. He lay bruised, embarrassed and breathless.

Sonam: *mouthing* Windward enchantments? *in his normal voice* Not only do I feel personally insulted by the idea that Alatar specializes in wind magic… that doesn’t quite seem to be how that works in this world?

Shade: Who cares – I told him so! But did he listen to me? No! And see what happens!

Plot-Induced Stupidity: 160

Eldarion ran to him, followed by the twins. “Are you alright?”

The wizard gasped, catching his breath. He grasped the twin’s outstretched hands and pulled himself up. “More surprised than hurt. I think. I’m so very sorry. Are you all alright?”

“You bore the brunt of it,” Eldarion told him, handing him his staff. “We barely felt it.”

“Speak for yourself!” Fastred shouted. He picked himself and Elanor up off the floor.

Sam helped Rosie up. Fastred rubbed his bruised forehead. “That knocked the wind out of us.”

Sonam: …that was a truly terrible pun, wasn’t it? *facepalm*

“The door to the Treasury of Elendil cannot be broken by magic,” Elrohir told him. “Unless you break the hill. Then the treasures would be lost.”

Shade: Well, buried, at least. Unless you want to dig them out.

“How will we get in?” Celendrian asked.

“Lady Elanor,” Elladan said, holding out his hand. “Where will wanes wile will win.”

MG: Okay, one, in canon the Rohirrim have a saying “Where will wants not, a way opens,” quoted by Eowyn (as “Dernhelm”) in RotK. Elladan isn’t Rohirrim, and neither is Elanor or Celendrian, so I have no idea why he’s mangling a Rohirrim saying in this context, unless it’s just because Polychron couldn’t resist the callback. I’m also not sure about his version, since how much “wile” can a person really bring to bear if their will has waned? And also, Elladan already knows how to open the vault, so there’s not a lot of “wile” required.

The others cleared a path. Surprised, she took his hand. He escorted her to the large central paving stone. They kneeled at the edge and were joined by as many as could fit along the four sides.

Sonam: Which is… how many, exactly? I’m trying to picture this, and you’re not helping!

All who could, extended their senses, searching for inscriptions or hidden runes.

“I’m sorry,” Elanor said, looking with the power of her Ring. “I don’t see anything.”

“Are you sure it hasn’t worn away?” Elboron asked.

“Some writings do not wear,” Elladan answered.

Shade: *irritably* Well, maybe that’s the case, but it doesn’t exactly help now, does it? Just tell everyone how to open the damned treasury and get it over with!

“Similar to the ithildin you have seen elsewhere,” Elrohir told her. “Like the lachtêw Sam never saw, though he wore them invisibly on the Ruling Ring in Mordor.”

MG: “Lachtêw,” as far as I can tell, is a term of Polychron’s own coining but does indeed seem to be correct Sindarin, meaning something like “flame letters.” Which is indeed what was on the One Ring. Why, exactly, Polychron made up a Sindarin term when Gandalf just called it “fire writing” in English/Westron in canon, I’m less sure on, unless he just wanted to make himself sound smarter.

Elladan turned to Elanor. “Your Ring has a power which can help us find the hidden gwâthteitha inscribed on this stone.”

Sonam: *sighs* Why am I not surprised?

MG: And “gwathteitha” also appears to be correct Sindarin, meaning “shadow writing.”

Rings-a-Palooza: 179

“Of course,” she said. She made her Ring visible, removed it and held it out to him.

“Your control has grown,” Elladan noted, refusing her Ring.

“Not quickly enough,” she responded, dismayed she hadn’t contributed to the battle.

Shade: Yeah, and Polychron went out of his way to set it up for you to do something, then didn’t let you actually do it. So I don’t think I’m feeling particularly generous here.

“One of your Ring’s attributes is a heightened ability see,” Elrohir told her. “You can extend this to those around you, if you wish, even if everything is enveloped in Shadow.”

MG: Which seems not so different from the power of the One Ring to allow its bearer to see into the Unseen, frankly…

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” she said.

“Elladan will summon the bewildering mists of the Shadowing Seas,” Elrohir explained. “We will show you how to pierce these Shadows with your Ring’s light to reveal hidden things.”

MG: The “Shadowy Seas” were part of the defenses raised by the Valar around Valinor after the destruction of the Two Trees and the return of the Noldor to Middle-earth, designed to confuse and misdirect mariners seeking to find Aman. Why does Elladan of all people have the power to summon them here? Honestly, they probably don’t even exist anymore, since Aman isn’t part of the material world anymore and doesn’t need that kind of protection!

Loremaster’s Headache: 402

“Okay,” she said, putting on her Ring. Remaining visible, she reflexively made Oialëhén invisible. “How do I do that?”

“Close your eyes and concentrate. You must become one with the power of your Ring,” Elrohir answered.

MG: Which, in canon, seems like it would be a really bad thing. She’s going to Fade and become a wraith so fast following this advice…

“Imagine everything is enveloped in darkness and everyone here is blind. Your Ring must supply the light for us to see.”

“I hope this works,” she said. Closing her eyes, she focused on her Ring.

For more than a minute, she stood silently, her eyes closed, concentrating. Eldarion was the first to notice the light fading. Faintly at first, then faster and deeper. Quickly, everything became dark. No one could see. A minute passed in silence. Then, another. Nothing else happened. Only Elrohir knew Elladan was giving Elanor strength and secretly guiding her.

Shade: *flatly* Oh wow, so riveting, I’m so amazed – Polychron is doing such a great job at portraying the eeriness of this, isn’t he?

Suddenly, they saw an unexpected and stranger thing: everything that had been shrouded in shadow before the light faded, grew bright. Whatever had previously been illuminated by daylight grew dark and impossible to see.

The twins turned to the stone square enveloped in this bizarre reverse-negative light, which the others had never imagined existed, produced by the combined power of their Rings. Across the dusty stone, the surface of the granite’s orange brightness that had once been grey, was now dimmed by blood red letters.

Sonam: That, ah, seems rather ominous, doesn’t it? Considering the glowing red letters, the elaborate, sinister procedure and all, I’m starting to think it might be for the best if this vault stays closed…

“This is not Tengwar,” Eldarion observed, in this strange reverse darkness.

“Correct,” Elrohir affirmed. “It is Gongwar.”

MG: …I have no idea what “Gongwar” is supposed to be. There is an older elvish script than the Feanorian Tengwar – but it’s usually called either the Sarati or the Tengwar of Rumil (to distinguish it from Feanor’s Tengwar). I can’t find any reference to the term “Gongwar” anywhere, anyone else can feel free to correct me if I’m mistaken. Now, the Book of Lost Tales does mention “Gongs” as evil creatures that served in Morgoth’s armies alongside orcs, but they don’t seem to have made it into later canon and we never get any good description of what they even were, so this probably isn’t supposed to be their script (though Polychron did bring in Ulbandi, so maybe it is…)

Linguistic Confusions: 44

Loremaster’s Headache: 403

The twins put their palms down flat on the stone and pushed. First left, then right. Right again. Forward, left, then down.

Shade: …the doors of Moria weren’t this protected. The secret door to Erebor wasn’t this protected. What in the hells was Elendil hiding down here, anyway?

MG: As we’ll see… pretty much everything, and I’m not exaggerating.

“You can stop now,” Elladan told her. He lifted his hands. “I will remove the Shadows.”

She opened her eyes. The strange darkness full of stranger light vanished.

Daylight returned and everything appeared as before. The stone the twins had pushed down slowly sank into the floor. Everyone jumped up and stepped away. A second stone descended. Then a third, fourth, another and many more. Retreating beyond the ruined stone foundations, everyone watched in wonder. Stone after stone slid down into the darkness. The entrance to a wide stone staircase opened the hidden depths beneath the ruins of Aman Sûl.

MG: Eh. Speaking of the secret door to Erebor, opening that was a lot more ominous and impressive. And this didn’t really take “wile,” either, just secret knowledge the twins already possessed and didn’t need to discover.

“Normally,” Alatar interjected, “I would feel compelled to lead. However, after my last attempt at leading, I feel a bit like following, at the moment.”

Sonam: …hmmm. Alatar seems to have, for the moment, learned humility! I had no idea he was even capable of it! I doubt it’ll last, but I’ll take it when I can!

“Would either of you like to go first?” Eldarion asked the twins.

“If there’s one thing a hobbit’s good for,” Theo said, “it’s exploring holes!”

MG: Uh, considering Gollum was originally a hobbit (or at least, from a branch of their species) and was described as “Smeagol who pried into all dark holes” and such a few times, and said prying ended up leading to do things like find and bargain with Shelob… you sure you want to stick with this description, Theo?

He led Fastred and Elanor down the steps into the darkness. Sam escorted Rosie, hand-in- hand. The twins came close behind them. They led Alatar and Eldarion, Celendrian and Elboron, Manus and Malvia, Pingyang and Xiang, Elerith, Niphredil, Ælfwine and his sisters. Some followed the hobbits tentatively. Many went fearfully. A few, very reluctantly.

Shade: *rolling her eyes* Because when exploring deep, dark holes – and I’ve done that more than a few times in my day, believe me – what you clearly want is a large, mostly inexperienced, noisy group of people. Good job, everyone!

“I have no doubt Lady Elanor has added seeing in the dark to her many growing talents,”

Eldarion told Elboron, halfway down. “The rest of us need torches.”

Sonam: …and you’re only realizing this now?

Plot-Induced Stupidity: 161

“Allow me,” Alatar said. Lifting his staff, the entire length glowed with a pale blue light.

MG: As opposed to that second-rate wizard Gandalf, whose staff only glowed at the top, am I right? /s

Take That, Tolkien!: 49

It seemed dim at first. As they descended into darkness, the light grew brighter.

At the bottom was a large stone chamber. Three concentric levels rose to the edge of the round outer walls. In a wide circle, around the edge of the lowest level was a stone henge.

Shade: …that sounds like an arena of some kind. Nothing ominous there…

MG: More to the point, has Stonehenge somehow found its way into Middle-earth now? Gah, is this Rose Potter all over again? Watch out for naked, psychotic druids, everyone!

Evenly arrayed within the circle’s perimeter were twelve roughly-oval Standing Stones. Each one was twelve feet tall, six feet wide, and had four distinguishable sides, made up of three distinctive triangular faces, tilted at slightly different angles.

“What are they?” Elanor asked.

“These are Guardian Stones,” Alatar answered. “Defenders of Arda. They were created by Ilúvatar many Ages before the Awakening of Elves and Men. Manwë made them Protectors of the Two Trees. But for all their strength, the Trees fell to Melkor’s treachery and Ungoliant’s hunger. In the ensuing battle, many were destroyed.”

MG: …except that there was no battle at the Two Trees – Melkor and Ungoliant invaded Valinor while everyone in Valimar was at a festival, there was no one there at all! That’s how they were able to destroy the Trees and get away before anyone knew they had been there! And, needless to say, nothing like a “Guardian Stone” exists in Middle-earth; the closest would be the “watch-stone” from the short story “The Faithful Stone” in the Unfinished Tales, which was a carved stone image that could move and fight, but was explicitly a construct made by one of the Druedain, and animated with some of his own life energy, not an independent being (and it’s also a very weird thing by the standards of Middle-earth and we don’t see anything much like it elsewhere; iirc, Tolkien wanted to show that the Druedain practiced a form of “magic” very different from that of the elves, dwarves or Numenoreans). I can think of two other inspirations – maybe Polychron was trying to riff on the enigmatic “stone giants” who appear briefly in The Hobbit and get a couple of mentions elsewhere, but with no real explanation of what they were (the Jackson movies made them enormous stone elementals; I’ve always preferred the fanon interpretations that they’re a larger relative or subspecies of trolls). Or, looking to other Tolkien rip-offs, the rough equivalents of the Ents in McKiernan’s Mithgar books, the Utruni, are large creatures of living stone who dwell deep underground. If the Tolkien rip-offs have taken to ripping each other off, that’s… almost fractal, wow. But maybe Polychron is just making stuff up on his own again.

Loremaster’s Headache: 406

“What are these doing here?” Elanor asked.

“I have no idea,” Alatar answered. He turned to the twins. “Do you?”

“We have no knowledge of them,” Elladan answered. “They were not brought here by Elves or Men.”

Shade: A-ha! I knew it must be the hobbits’ fault! Theo, what did you do?

Elrohir cocked his ear. “These Guardian Stones call for aid.”

“What kind of aid?” Ælfwine asked.

Sonam: …maybe, at a guess, they want someone to help them out of here?

“I hear them,” Eldarion told them. “Yet I cannot distinguish their voices.”

“They seek freedom from their prison,” Elladan answered.

Sonam: It’s unbecoming of a brother of the West Wind to say “I told you so,” but…

Alatar lifted his staff and it glowed brighter. Elrohir lifted his hand. “Wait.”

Shade: …yeah, after what happened up top, that’s probably wise. You’d probably collapse the cave and kill everyone here if you tried that again.

“I’m waiting,” the wizard responded, holding his staff immobile. Elladan cocked his head. “They are calling for… Fastred?” Surprised, everyone turned to Fastred.

“Me?” he asked. Looking up at their highborn faces, he felt extremely self-conscious.

MG: *sigh* Because of course, we need reminder that all of these people are special aristocrats and he isn’t, so he feels appropriately humbled and all, blegh. Though, I must say, I kind of think that if anyone in this fic is Polychron’s self-insert, it may be Fastred (or maybe Fastred and Eldarion both); we’ll get more of a sense of why I think that as the fic goes on.

The twins nodded. They beckoned him forward and motioned everyone else to step aside.

Fastred walked through their ranks and stopped before the largest Guardian Stone. It faced the bottom of the steps. He looked around. No one else knew any more than he did, which helped him feel less self-conscious. He lifted his fist and knocked on the hard surface. “Hallo?”

There was no response.

Shade: Turns out Elladan and Elrohir were just having a laugh at his expense. Very embarrassing for everyone, especially Fastred. But, as the Witch-King of Angmar once learned, and the twins were soon to discover, pissing off someone who’s the perfect height for stabbing you in the shins is probably not a good idea…

But with every step, he had felt the weight of his Túrin-stone grow heavier. Withdrawing the locket, he opened it. Since the day Círdan first gave him the Stone, it had remained the darkest black. Now deep in the center, the impression of a star glowed faintly, bluish white. It grew brighter with a white multicolored light, like that of a living star. As he lifted the Stone’s brightness, twelve bright beams shot from his hand and struck all twelve Guardian Stones.

Sonam: *sighs heavily* I thought the purpose of this device was just to protect a person from being spied on magically? Why is it doing… whatever it’s doing now… too? Do I even want to know what’s going on? Do I even care enough anymore to get upset about this?

The rocks drank the radiance. It crackled and glinted along the edges of the four sides and twelve distinctive faces. Fizzling and fading at first, it waxed and grew brighter. A sudden line of brightness divided each Stone into two even halves. Two more bright white lines appeared, joined at the largest intersection, then four, then more. Soon, all thirty-six edges glowed. With a grinding and a snap, they began to move, opening like the shells of crabs. Neither warm-blooded mammals nor cold-blooded reptiles, they were moving things of living stone.

Shade: *rolling her eyes* Because clearly, “mammal, reptile, or stone” are the only three options. Somewhere you just made Treebeard very sad. Do you want that on your conscience, Fastred? Do you?

Two of the twelve surfaces fell forward slowly. Touching the ground they lay flat, becoming the soles of the Stone-men’s feet. Each bore three stone toes. Two pointed forward and one back. Two more flat surfaces opened. They became the backs of the Stone-men’s hands.

MG: …please tell me I’m not the only one hearing the transformation sound effect from Transformers at this, am I?

They unfolded with two stone fingers and a large stone thumb. Two sections opened, becoming the backs of the Stone-men’s legs. Two formed the upper arms and two the lower. Two sections became the sides of the Stone-men’s backs. From the center rose the Stone-men’s oval heads.

The Guardian Stones stood up straight and lifted their arms, twelve feet tall.

Sonam: Is that implying that their… arms… are twelve feet tall…? I’m very confused!

They opened their stone eyes and looked around with their grey stone faces, towering over everyone’s heads. With their arms extended, they were almost as wide. The triangular plains on the flat backs of their stone arms, legs and shoulders gave their movements a powerful air.

Everyone stepped back fearfully, moving away from the Stone-men except for Fastred. Strangely, he felt no fear. The Stone-man in front of him stepped forward. His large heavy stone feet struck the ground, shaking the chamber and every step raised dust. His movements were sweeping, somewhat rigid, not limber, yet neither lacking grace.

MG: …yeah, when it comes to meeting a strange, ancient being who you never knew existed and who is a form of life you never imagined… the “meeting Treebeard” sequence takes the win. This is just kind of stiff.

He thudded to a stop before Fastred. Going down on one knee, the other Stone-men knelt, bowing their heads. “Who has freed the Stone-men of Zirakzigal from our prison?”

Fastred looked around at his frightened companions. Eldarion nodded.

“I’m – Fastred!” he answered. “Oh… uh, son of Folcred… of Greenholm – in the Shire.”

MG: Huh. Previously, Polychron has been calling Fastred “Fastred Greenholm,” as if “Grennholm” is his surname rather than the village he’s from, but now he’s correctly “Fastred of Greenholm.” I wonder what brought this on? And why he didn’t go back and change it when he realized his mistake?

“Fastred, son of Folcred of the Shire,” the Stone-man said. “I am Mytikas, son of Genesis the Protolith, King of Stones, the Peak of Petradons and Apex of Pinnacles. I am the Crown Prince of the Metamorphs of Archany, in Líthos and Rhodium; the Archon of the Cementation of the Dodecahedrons. We were formed from among the Dodecatetrapetroandri. We are called by Dwarves, the Stone-men of Zirakzigal – The People of the Living Stone.”

Sonam: *looking overwhelmed* I think I need to sit down. That’s… quite a lot!

MG: It is, and it mostly serves to just be Polychron throwing a bunch of rock terminology at us without doing a good job of explaining what exactly it all means in this context (and of course, even the rock person is a prince!). But I do kind of have to role my eyes at these names. “Mytikas” is the highest peak of Mount Olympus; “Genesis,” if it even needs to be said, both means “beginning” and is also the most common English name for the first book of the Hebrew Bible. Just… what are these names even doing in Middle-earth, where the Greek language, much less Greece, doesn’t even exist (aside from indirectly; Greece was one influence on the culture and geography of Gondor, among other Mediterranean cultures and regions, while Greek was likely an influence, albeit not the most important one, on the development of the Elvish languages). And I imagine the dwarves called the Stone Men something in Khuzdul, not Westron… though considering the dwarves’ attitude towards their language and proper names in it, I would presume the Stone Men are being polite in not revealing it and presumably giving the translation instead.

On the other hand… why are the ancient rock creatures who’ve been down here for Eru-knows-how-long speaking perfect modern Westron?

Linguistic Confusions: 46

Fastred stared at Mytikas, speechless. Eldarion motioned with his eyes and lifted his chin.

“Oh!” Fastred responded. “Rise up, oh mighty… Mytikas?”

Mytikas rose. A broad smile spread across his stone face and a twinkling filled his grey stone eyes. He was followed to his feet by the others.

“How were you imprisoned in the Treasury of Elendil?” Alatar asked.

“By treachery and sorcery,” Mytikas answered.

“What does that mean?” Fastred asked.

Shade: *irritated* Well, presumably someone betrayed them, then put a spell on them. Therefore, both treachery and sorcery! That was easy!

“We were born in the light of the stars before the stars and we witnessed the Ainur enter Eä,” Mytikas answered. “Our ears heard the Valar sing the Ainulindalë and our eyes watched the world come into being.

MG: Except you were born in the light of the “stars before the stars” – I guess that would be the first generation of stars, before Varda made new ones to herald the awakening of the elves? – then you were presumably already in Ea.. where you heard the Ainulindalie… which created Ea… did… did you people exist before you actually existed, somehow? Time paradox ahoy! That, or bad writing.

But Melkor sang Discords and cast down the Lamps.

MG: Two separate events, Polychron! One much, much later than the other!

Loremaster’s Headache: 408

So Manwë created the Order of the Guardian-stones to protect the Valar. Guardian-stones do many things, protecting realms from Valinor to Under-earth.

MG: Keep in mind that reference to “Under-earth,” it’s going to be important before long…

My father appointed me and my Dodecs the Guardians of the Trees: Telperion the Silver-tree and Laurelin the Golden, when they were growing in Aman. But on a dark day of treachery, Oromë, Tulkas and we Dodecs were bound by dark enchantments in Ungoliant’s Unlight.

MG: Technically, Orome and Tulkas were only caught in the Unlight when they were chasing Melkor and Ungoliant after they destroyed the Trees, not before…

Many Stone-men were broken by Melkor’s xenocrist and the Two Trees fell to the spider’s hunger.

Sonam: *confused* What’s a xenocrist?

MG: A kind of stone weapon, apparently (a xenocryst, with a y, is a kind of crystal in an igneous rock that wasn’t part of the original magma). We’ll see one later in the fic.

Using the bodies of our fallen comrades, we cut ourselves free of her webs and the Cementation of the Dodecahedrons rallied.

Shade: *stunned* That’s… unexpectedly horrifying. Wouldn’t that be like cutting your way loose with your friends’ bones? I thought I was pretty jaded, but damn…

We freed the Valar and drove the spider-monster away.

MG: Fancy way of saying “she left with Melkor because their work here was done.”

Loremaster’s Headache: 410

Yavanna and Nienna were able to save enough sap for the last flower and fruit to bloom. From them, Aulë created the Chariots of the Sun and Moon. With the ascension of these new lights in the Heavens, we were no longer needed above and so we returned to Under-earth and the War of the Three Kingdoms.”

MG: *blankly* What, like The Romance of the Three Kingdoms? Wrong world, wrong history, Polychron!

“What is the War of the Three Kingdoms?” Celendrian asked.

“The Igneous, Sediments and Metamorphs are the Three Kingdoms of Rocks,” Mytikas answered. “We have warred since the Beginning. Long before Collocoll, Gnomes, Kôr or Nameless Things sank below the earth or Dwarves, Ents, Elves, Men or Îkor rose above.”

MG: Collocoll and Kôr we’ll be learning about in the next couple of chapters (and we’ll discuss it more then, trust me). “Gnomes” in Middle-earth initially referred to the Noldor, and was dropped entirely in later drafts, as I think we’ve mentioned before. Îkor… I don’t think this is ever explained? I think this is literally the only time this word appears in the whole fic?

Loremaster’s Headache: 411

“Why are you fighting?” Fastred asked.

“We do not know,” Mytikas answered sadly, looking down. “This war has always been. It is written in the Annals of the Stones, ‘No vestige of a beginning and no prospect of an end.’”

Shade: Damned depressing, if you ask me.

MG: Not to mention that it doesn’t really seem to suit Arda as a setting – things don’t just happen for no reason there!

“But you are Metamorphs,” Elrohir said. “The mightiest rocks. Who could defeat you?”

MG: Okay, one, since when was Elrohir an expert on rocks? Two, I’m not a geologist IRL, but from what I’ve gathered metamorphic rocks are usually stronger than sedimentary rocks and sometimes stronger than igneous rocks, and probably the strongest of the three types on average, but that doesn’t make it seem nearly as definitive as what Elrohir is saying.

“If our war was confined to those cluskshlum Igneous and pfouthmryscuk Sediments, we would have been victorious long ago,” Mytikas answered. “But Inaequalis the Xenolith swore allegiance and servitude, and now worships the Mad Vala Ulbandi. He set in stone her road to conquest in Under-earth. The dark Valarin arts of Ulbandi gave Inaequalis the power to take the throne of Tantalum and conquer the Igneous throughout the realms of Mohoro. But that was not enough to sate Inaequalis’ porous thirst for power. He made war on my father King Genesis and laid waste to much of Mesos. Then he did the unthinkable: attacking the Gardens of Asthenḗs, our Stoneries where baby Stones are born and grow. We had no choice but to surrender. The treachery of Inaequalis allowed Ulbandi to defeat us, the Guardian Stones. We, the Cementation of the Dodecahedrons, the oldest and most powerful of the Dodecatetrapetroandri, fell. Then we were bound by dark enchantments and Ulbandi cast us out of Gaiaspheria, imprisoning us here. With no one to stop him, Inaequalis conquered Asthenḗs. He took the crown of the Igneous and now rules in Perfidy.”

All sporkers: *are stunned*

Sonam: *diplomatically* So, that was… a lot. But does it actually mean anything?

MG: *grimly* Yes, yes it does. But we’re going to have to wait a few more chapters to get more details about exactly what is going on here. Needless to say, it involves some of Polychron’s… interesting ideas about the structure and cosmology of Arda, and like all his worldbuilding about Harad and the Silence, yet more stuff that feels like it was probably invented for some other setting and then welded crudely into Middle-earth where it doesn’t really fit. Oh, and we have mention here of an evil tyrant named Inaequalis, which sounds like unequal. Real subtle there, Polychron.

Expansion-Pack World: 31

Linguistic Confusions: 50 (for all these names…)

“Who is Ulbandi?” Fastred asked.

Shade: …haven’t we been over this already? Have you even been paying attention, Fastred, or have you been too busy ogling Elanor?

“Ulbandi was one of the Valier,” Alatar answered. “A Queen of the Valar: the intended bride of the Vala Draëd, King of Earth. When Ilúvatar chose all male Vala to spearhead Creation, Ulbandi demanded an equal number of female Valier act as guides.

MG: I literally don’t know what Polychron is on about. There are fourteen Valar (fifteen counting Melkor), seven male, seven female. Among the Aratar, the term for the most powerful Valar, three are women – Varda, Yavanna, Nienna. As far as we know, they all had an equal part in the Ainulindalie, and an equal part in shaping Arda. Varda made the damned stars. Yavanna basically created the planet’s whole biosphere that isn’t the Children of Iluvatar themselves. Nienna didn’t do anything so dramatic, but it was through her that grief, mercy, compassion and pity entered the world, and even if you’ve only been half paying attention you know how thematically important those concepts are to Tolkien. Now, you can rightly argue that the male Valar in general tend to be more active powers and the Valier are more passive… but they were absolutely there and involved and important! I feel like Polychron is trying to make Ulbandi some sort of straw-feminist, but… he’s also literally distorting the narrative to make ups something for her to be mad about? What?

Also, no idea who Draed is supposed to be. The Vala associated with the physical substance of the earth is Aule, who, as we’ll see, is clearly not the same person as Draed. Did… did Polychron just make up a redundant Vala?

Loremaster’s Headache: 414

The Unfair Sex: 119

Her demands were met with Silence. Some say the Silence That Devours is the Silence of Ilúvatar, transformed into a weapon by Ulbandi to destroy existence.

MG: So, there you have it folks, the true origin of the ultimate evil force in Polychron’s version of Arda… a woman standing up against sexism, what the hells? Why make Eru a misogynist, even? Nothing like this happens in canon, so this can’t even be read as a clumsy attempt to criticize the original work’s sexism! And if it is an attempt to push back at Tolkien’s sexism, making “standing up for women’s rights and involvements” the new original sin of Arda breaks any Aesop that might be delivered there into tiny little pieces and sets them on fire. Just… wow. I’m in shock, people. I think even Robert Newcomb was more subtle than this…

The Unfair Sex: 121

When Draëd tried to stop her, she killed him and then seduced Melkor, who had been betrothed to Nienna. Ulbandi turned Melkor to the Dark Side.”

MG: *sporfles* Yes, you read that right! Polychron just used the phrase” turned to the Dark Side” in a non-Star Wars work in all seriousness. Did Melkor get a red lightsaber, too? Does this make him Darth Morgoth? Are the Silmarils just really powerful kyber crystals? *sporfles some more* Anyway, the real takeaway here is that we have confirmation that Ulbandi was the one who turned Melkor to evil, and not the other way around. So here you have it, folks – the ultimate evil in the cosmos: feminism (and no, I’m not just saying this because Polychron made the original evil deity a woman, but because of the specific context around her turn to evil). *gags loudly* I hope to every deity who might be listening that the implication here was unintentional… but I somehow doubt it, all things considered. Also, this all must have taken place before the Ainulindalie, if this is what turned Melkor evil in the first place. Before Arda, in other words. So, uh… how did she kill Draed? Death, for the Ainur, usually seems to mean that their physical body is destroyed and their spirit so traumatized they can’t make another one or influence the material world in any meaningful way any longer. I have no idea what “death” for one of the Ainur would even look like in the Timeless Halls. Maybe Draed was actually fine the whole time and just got lost in the Void on the way to Ea, and he’s going to come wandering into Valimar any day now and be like “hey guys, sorry I’m late, what’d I miss?”

Also… that Melkor was originally supposed to marry Nienna is fanon I’ve run across before; I’d actually thought there might be some basis for it in Tolkien’s notes, but when I went looking to back that up I couldn’t find anything, and at least as many fans seem to find the idea ridiculous as support it. Besides, it’s not like the Valar have to be married, though most of them are – Ulmo’s always been single, and he gets along just fine with no indication anything tragic happened there at all, and Nienna could easily just be cut from the same mold. Or maybe not, because unlike Ulmo she’s a girl, and so she has to have a dude in her life somewhere! *facepalms*

The Unfair Sex: 123

“Is this why Nienna is the Queen of Tears?” Celendrian asked.

“It was not always so,” Alatar answered. “Before Ulbandi’s treachery, Nienna was the Queen of Poetry; the Queen of delicate and beautifully fragile things: saplings, crystals, babies, laughter, reflections, memories, wings. Tragedy was born when Ulbandi betrayed Nienna.”

MG: That makes it sound like Nienna was basically just supposed to be a clone of Este or Vana, honestly. I like the actual Nienna better.

“We witnessed the Kinslaying of the Valar,” Mytikas told them. “Ulbandi may have been the first to Fall, but Draëd paid the price. He was first to pass the Doors of Night to whatever lies Beyond. It was the birth of Evil in Eä, a sad and dark time in Arda, before the Lamps.

MG: …we know what lies beyond Ea. The Void, and beyond that is the Timeless Halls. But I fear Polychron has mangled the timeline again, since for Ulbandi to have corrupted Melkor, she’d have to have “killed” Draed in the Timeless Halls, before the existence of Ea, Arda, or the Doors of Night, since that’s when and where Melkor first began to turn! *headdesk*

Loremaster’s Headache: 416

She and Melkor have birthed countless Evils since. We must return to the Kingdom of Archany. In our absence, the Sediments and Igneous will have wreaked havoc. But the Dodec are forever indebted. If you need us, simply call. We will come at Fastred’s summons in the Turin-stone.”

Shade: Even though you’re going deep under the Earth, Four-knows-how-far away? Have you learned to teleport? Tharkos is going to be thrilled.

Mytikas turned to the staircase wall. In the center, a red line appeared and slowly grew. Two parallel red lines glowed beside it, then three more crossed the first three diagonally. Six more lines appeared, then twelve, twenty-four, and many more, forming hexagonal patterns. Side by side, tall hexagonal blocks in descending heights slid out from the wall. They formed a hexagonal staircase ending at the Stone-men’s feet. It rose to a glowing dodecahedral opening.

Unfolding beyond the wall were endless staircases rising, descending, twisting, turning, reversing, growing and shrinking within the Escherscape of Archany – appearing, twisting, turning and disappearing in every conceivable orientation and direction.

MG: Escherscape? Like, MC Escher? They… know about his art in Arda to make that comparison, I guess? Wha… what?

Loremaster’s Headache: 417

He ascended the stairs with heavy plodding footfalls that shook the floor. Stepping through the opening into the Escherscape, he reached a large stone platform from which twelve stone staircases rose or descended. They connected to countless others, disappearing and appearing in endless distances of stone. The lumbering but gracefully mighty Dodecs followed.

“Until all is lost in ice or fire,” Mytikas called, waving his arm and all three fingers.

MG: …which could be a while, considering how long it’s taking George RR Martin to finish A Song of Ice And Fire! *beat* Just wait, as soon as I post this, Martin is probably going to have a flash of inspiration and get the last two ASOIAF books wrapped up in no time, thereby immediately dating the joke.

When the last Stone-man passed beyond the wall’s surface, the hexagonal steps rose one after another, returning to the Escherscape. The surface of the wall slowly closed and the bright white lines dimmed to a dull red. They shrank and dwindled from the outermost 736 to 368 to 184 to 92 to 48 to 24 to 12 to 6 to 3 until the last one faded and went out. All was dark.

Shade: *yawns loudly* Well. That was random. Now, on to the important part of the chapter. Treasure!

Alatar lifted his staff and it glowed with a bright blue light. They saw the stone floor they were on was round. At the edge, steep stone steps led to two higher levels, forming three concentric circles. The walls of the top level of The Treasury of Elendil were even with the outer walls of Weathertop. The two higher levels formed a wide stone shelf going all the way around the hill. On each level were metal-mesh girdles displayed ingeniously designed armored suits of sturdy leaf and ring mail.

Sonam: So… we really are just going to go back to exploring the treasury as if that little interlude with the Stone Men (did… did they ever explain what they had to do with Zirakzigil?) never happened? *glances over at Shade* Random, indeed…

Some were dark and black as night. Others were bright, reflective silver-white. Many were wrought like fish-mail, shining like glittering stones in river water under moonlight. In metal sheaths were long and short swords. Black and silver bows were paired with quivers full of arrows. Daggers, spears and pole-arms lay propped up beside shields and axes. Covered lamps dangled from chains affixed to the ends of metal rods protruding from the walls.

MG: Not going to lie, this just feels like a worse version of Bilbo entering Smaug’s lair and seeing the treasure hoard of Erebor in The Hobbit; Tolkien makes you feel the awe, but Polychron is just very… dry and by-the-numbers.

Some were round; others, square or hexagonal. All had banded, faceted faces and were secured by metal covers. The farther up the walls they looked, the more exotic and ornate became the shapes of the Lamps.

Shade: And some of ‘em… well, let’s just say you probably didn’t want to see them up close, if you catch my meaning.

Alatar approached the nearest one. “These are Fëanorian Lamps.”

“What do they do?” Elanor asked.

Shade: Oh, the Feanorian Lamps, I wonder what these miraculous lamps that are called lamps and explicitly identified as lamps do… clearly, they spray water. /s

He opened one of the covers. A beautiful blue light lit the chamber with a soft blue but heatless fire, captured within the dazzling smoky-white multifaceted crystal.

The ithildin runes on the invisible Rings of Power which Elanor, Eldarion, Elladan, Elrohir, Celendrian and Elboron wore glittered brightly with a pale blue light. Almost as one, their brows furrowed and the ithildin runes hovering over their fingers vanished. They regarded each other gravely and with wonder, yet they said nothing.

Sonam: *flatly* Yes, I can tell how much wonder this strange and mystical experience is making you feel, your author does such a good job of conveying it!

“They were crafted in Valinor,” Alatar told them, pulling the bright lamp off the wall. “By Fëanor, the greatest Elvish smith in history. The chain is mithril and the crystal is silma, the same as he used to capture the light of the Two Trees within the Silmarilli.”

“What’s the source of the light?” Elanor asked. Peering into the smoky crystal, not even her Ring enhanced senses could penetrate its depths.

“I don’t know,” Alatar answered. “It’s said these Lamps can’t be extinguished. Neither wind nor water affects them. Though less well remembered here, in Valinor, Fëanor was as famous for his Lamps as for the Silmarilli. When he died, the craft was lost. I think it convinced Celebrimbor to create his library, so his skills wouldn’t die like his grandfather Fëanor’s had.”

MG: Okay, most of this seems to be accurate, though I don’t think that the lamps would be made of silma (which I’d always assumed was only used for, you know, the Silmarils), and from the descriptions given in the Sil and the HoME, it sounds like the lamps contained flames that had been somehow permanently bound into the crystal, though that could, admittedly, be metaphorical.

“Elboron, Ælfwine,” Eldarion commanded. “Before we leave, count and gather these Lamps. We are taking them with us.”

MG: And here we go, people – it’s time for everyone to start treating a store of some of the most powerful and legendary artifacts in Middle-earth like a cheap rummage sale, just taking whatever strikes their fancy! Seriously, it’s like I said last time – they beat the boss (Erestor), now it’s time to get the loot.

“We will not leave any of the treasures,” Elladan said. He and Elrohir stepped up to one of the bright armored suits. “Half are mithril. I did not know so much mithril had been mined.”

MG: …as I was saying.

Shade: *eyes wide* I want some!

“Or gathered in one place, outside of the Palace of Anor,” Elrohir added.

Sonam: Strange, I would imagine that the greatest store of mithril in the world would have been at Khazad-dum, where it was mined and forged.

“The mining of mithril began deep in the First Age, tens of thousands of years before you were born,” Alatar told him. “It continued well into the middle of the Third.”

MG: …unless the Valar were mining mithril, that seems very unlikely, considering that, by the generally accepted counts, the First Age only began with the awakening of the elves about eleven thousand years ago, and the dwarves awakening, settling Khazad-dum, and beginning mining mithril in earnest wouldn’t have been for a long while after that…

Loremaster’s Headache: 418

“Where has all the mithril gone?” Celendrian asked.

“It was hoarded by Sauron,” the wizard answered. “What became of it after his fall, I do not know.”

Shade: Well, let me guess – Thuringel has it. Or Glorfindel. They seem to have inherited everything else Sauron had – it’s almost as if Mordor never fell at all!

“The black metal is galvorn,” Elladan said. “It is harder than mithril and heavier. It can be beaten into paper thin sheets, impervious to harm. It is an alloy forged by Eöl, the Dark Elf.”

“Mithril grew so precious, it passed beyond price,” Elrohir told them. “But Galvorn never had a price. It was thought all Eöl’s works were lost in the Fall of Gondolin.”

MG: Which does make one wonder why Polychron is so obsessed with galvorn, considering it was only ever made by one guy (maybe two, if Eol ever taught Maeglin) and so little of it was ever made or in circulation. *beat* Wait, I think I just answered my own question – if it’s rare, it must be extra-valuable and extra-special, so we have to have a lot of it (as paradoxical as that may seem...). Do carry on!

“There’s some galvorn in Lindon,” Fastred offered.

“And apparently,” Celendrian added, “King Tuor saved more than a few things.”

The twins uncovered more of the Lamps. Blue light lit the Treasury, illuminating all of the second level. On opposite sides stood two large white-marble statues.

The one on the left was Nerdanel’s most renowned creation: Varda, Queen of Heaven, lifted her hands to the sky in song while from her fingers rose the first primordial stars. In the light of the Fëanorian Lamps, Nerdanel’s unmatched artistry made the frozen stones seem as if the marble stars depicted were rising and twinkling brighter.

The statue on the right was Drendelen’s most famous work. It depicted Lúthien Tinúviel dancing through the forest. Bent back at the waist, her head was thrown back, her body and face upraised. One arm was lifted high in exultation. The other went down in a straight line behind her. As if moving swiftly in a circle, her arms swept up spirals of marble leaves that had been caught up in the beauty of her dance.

MG: Of course, it’s got to be a statue by Drendelen, because apparently no elven sculptors other than Nerdanel and Drendelen exist in FotK-verse. And this statue sounds very much like it’s based on a rather famous illustration of Luthien by Ted Naismith (one of the more famous and influential Tolkien artists, along with John Howe and Alan Lee). It’s got her in a very similar pose – not identical, but pretty close - and everything!

For long moments, they simply stared at the unmatched artistry, only half believing such beauty could exist, much less be depicted within lifeless marble.

Sonam: …why do I have a feeling we’ve taken a sharp turn from praising one of the original story’s most celebrated characters into praising one of the author’s pet original characters? And, beg pardon, but weren’t Drendelen’s statues supposed to be remarkable because they depicted the flaws of their subjects in a realistic manner? That doesn’t sound like the case here!

At the far end of the Treasury on the top tier was a high, slender dais. It displayed three large intricately-patterned black galvorn-metal boxes.

“These are the loksboks of Eöl,” Elladan told them. “Ever were they used to safeguard the most precious treasures.”

MG: …not sure what a “lokshok” is supposed to be, and I don’t think anything like this existed in canon. Also kind of amazed, considering how suspicious and covetous Eol was, he’d ever let these things out of his hands where they could be used to store and protect someone else’s treasures. Maybe Maeglin and Aredhel stole them from him when they fled Nan Elmoth. *shrugs*

“No treasures can surpass these sculptures,” Ælfwine remarked.

“Except the long lost Silmarilli,” Elboron reminded.

Shade: Oh, yeah, putting your original character’s creations on a level just below the very greatest treasures to ever exist in your world, something I believe literal gods fought wars over – very humble, Polychron! *rolls her eyes*

“Can you open them?” Eldarion asked.

“The Sons of Elrond have been steeped in the lore of Middle-earth since we learned to read,” Elladan answered. “We have devoured twice as many scrolls and books as our father.”

“Guided by him, the greatest Lore Master in history, we have egged each other on,” Elrohir said. “What one of us reads does not need to be repeated by our brother. We can simply ask each other for any needed answers. This is what we do in Rivendell and in our travels.”

Shade: *snorts* Also, humility clearly isn’t one of the many virtues of the Sons of Elrond! Though it’d be funnier if after they gave this whole spiel, they then immediately admitted that, in fact, they don’t have any idea how to open the lokshoks.

Take That, Tolkien!: 50
The twins climbed the steps to the top and carried the largest loksboks down to the ground floor, where everyone was waiting. Eldarion and Manus carried another. Elboron and Ælfwine brought the third.

The boxes were built like puzzles. Fortunately, the twins were familiar with them. By pressing, pushing and sliding their hands, they began to move some of the intricately connected pieces. Working slowly and methodically, they moved the interlocking parts, which were baffling to the others and would have stymied anyone else.

Sonam: …I’m really starting to think that Polychron really loves Elladan and Elrohir and wants us to think they’re the most amazing people in the world. Which, considering he also chose to write them as bloodthirsty, genocidal mass-murderers, is… disturbing, to say the least!

They moved the plates farther apart slowly, like Gordian knots that had been wrought with sublime purpose by one of the greatest craftsmen in history; not in pliant cloth, but Galvorn, the impregnable metal of Eöl’s own devising.

Sonam: … he also seems to rather like Eol, which is also rather disturbing, considering just what sort of person Eol was and how abominably he treated his wife and son…

MG: Also, how in the hells do these people know what a Gordian knot is? First Escher, now this! Is the real world just bleeding over into Arda this chapter, or what?

Loremaster’s Headache: 419

Moving the pieces forward, sometimes back, up, down, or from one side to another, they slid more sections further apart. Their painstaking efforts finally produced an audible click.

Shade: Of-bloody-course it did. Can’t have anything be difficult for the murder twins, can we?

They opened the lid. Inside was a soft, smooth, white, lustrous flax-and-nettle fabric. It provided the lining for three compartments. In one lay a scabbarded sword. Another contained a large broken war spear. The third held an ornately decorated helm. Each artifact was adorned with golden runes.

Shade: *discretely shoves them all into her bag while no one is looking*

“This is Aranrúth,” Elladan told them, lifting the scabbarded sword. “Named, ‘The King’s Ire.’ It was the sword of Elu Thingol, he who was the ambassador of Elves in Valinor.”

MG: One of three ambassadors, if you please! He went with Valinor together with his friends Finwe and Ingwe, as part of the Valar’s efforts to persuade the elves to come live with them in Valinor; they later became the first kings of the Eldar. He was an ambassador but calling him the ambassador is Finwe and Ingwe erasure!

Loremaster’s Headache: 421

“The High King Thingol was a companion to the Vala Oromë,” Elrohir said. “He ruled Doriath, married Melian and fathered Lúthien in Beleriand, long before it Fell beneath the seas. Aranrúth was taken to Númenor by King Elros. It was ever the Sword of Kings.”

MG: …while Aranruth was the sword of the Kings of Numenor (presumably passed to Elros from his mother Elwing, Thingol’s great-granddaughter), it doesn’t seem to have survived the Downfall, whether it remained in Numenor and was destroyed, or was taken by Pharazon when he invaded Valinor and was lost with him there. I can think of no discernable reason why Elendil, who as the son of the leader of the Faithful was persona non grata with Pharazon and his court, would have gotten ahold of one of Numenor’s most important royal relics and managed to bring it with him to Middle-earth, or why he would have buried it in a vault instead of keeping it around as a royal heirloom of Arnor if he did have it.

Loremaster’s Headache: 422

He carried it to where Eldarion stood in the center of the group. The Crown Prince was flanked by Elboron, Ælfwine, Xiang, their sisters, Manus, Malvia and the hobbits. Instead of handing it to Eldarion, as everyone expected, he gave it to Celendrian, “This is yours.”

“Thank you,” she said. Incredulous, she opened her arms and clutched the sword. Pulling it against her chest, she cried sudden tears. “I… remember, my sword. My sword! I remember!!”

Shade: *muttering* Not making it sound less like that damned ring just plain erased and overwrote Celendrian’s mind, there…

Elboron held her in his arms. He stroked her long dark hair and quieted her sobs.

“May it serve you in good stead,” Elrohir told her. “I fear your needs will be as great as anyone’s. Greater by far than even those great deeds you have already done.”

From the same loksboks, Elladan removed the large mithril helm. It was adorned with gold and engraved with runes of victory. It had a visor on its crest inlaid with an intricate and beautifully crafted golden dragon, “This is the Dragon-helm of Dor-lómin. It bears the image of Glaurung.”

MG: Of-freaking-course it was the freaking Dragon-helm. Which just sort of vanishes from The Children of Hurin partway through, mind, apparently because after Turin was captured by the orcs after the sacking of Bar-en-Danwedh, Tolkien couldn’t think of a good reason why the orcs wouldn’t have taken it or how Turin would’ve gotten it back, even though he’d always intended Turin to wear it when he confronted Glaurung at the end of the tale. Apparently, he never resolved the issue to his satisfaction before he died, and Christopher Tolkien left its disappearance as-is when he published CoH. So canonically, the Dragon-helm’s fate is a big question mark, but again I see no reason for it to be here, beyond Polychron’s apparent desire for his characters to have their pick of every important artifact in Arda’s history.

Loremaster’s Headache: 423

“It is said whoever wears it is protected from earthly weapons or wounds, even death,” Elrohir told them. “A sword that hews it breaks. Darts and arrows spring aside. The hearts of the hosts of the bearer are lifted high in battle. It was once written in Beleriand that the hosts of Hador cried, ‘Of more worth is the Dragon of Dor-lómin than the gold-worm of Angband!’”

MG: *rolling their eyes* Thank you, Polychron, for showing us that you, too, have read The Children of Hurin (whether you understood it is another matter…)

Elladan approached the group. Eldarion felt sure this was why Elrohir hadn’t given him Aranrúth, as not to underscore the enormity of what, in his mind, had to be the greatest armament ever wielded in Middle-earth.

Sonam: …or maybe your uncles think that you as the prince already have enough special things in your life and don’t need any more? Because even for the high king’s son, you seem remarkably entitled to think you have a right to any of this…

Elladan put the Dragon-helm of Dor-lómin on Ælfwine’s head. “You are our dragon slayer. Just as Azaghâl, Lord of Belegost, gave this helm to our great-great-uncle Maedhros for saving his life, I give this to you for saving the life of our sister, Queen Arwen.”

MG: I can’t help but notice the contrast that Azaghal was considered a great hero merely for wounding Glaurung, but apparently Elfwine kills dragons regularly just because – it really highlights the divergence between Tolkien’s Middle-earth and Polychron’s. Also, Elladan and Elrohir are the great-great grandsons of Turgon, who was Maedhros’s cousin; Maedhros wasn’t their uncle, to any degree. It’s a minor detail, but it still bugs me.

Loremaster’s Headache: 424

“I told you I wanted to learn how to do that!” Elboron shouted. He slapped Ælfwine’s helm covered head. “Let’s hear it for Ælfwine!”

In their amazement and overjoyed at this sudden turn of good fortune, enthusiastic cheers broke out. Everyone clapped and congratulated Ælfwine.

All Sprokers: *monotone* Yaaaay.

He removed the helm and stared at it. Looking up at the happy faces of his friends, he could barely believe what was happening.

Shade: Yeah, me neither. How come you people get all the goodies, in defiance of all logic and common sense? Save some for the rest of us, you greedy asses!

Elrohir lifted the two pieces of the black, nine-foot carbon-steel spear.

MG: …at least it’s not stainless steel this time?

“This was broken by Sauron outside Barad-dûr before the Necromancer killed Gil-galad.”

The tip of the Spear ended in a sharp two-foot blade. It was etched with a bronze filigree and the handle bore the runes of a Ñoldorin Elvish inscription:



“What does it say?” Elanor asked.

Shade: “If found, return to Ereinion Gil-Galad in Lindon, who has been missing it very much.” Not very exciting, alas.

Elladan read the runes. “Gil-galad ech vae vaegannen matha/Aith heleg nín i Orch gostatha/Nin cíniel na nguruthos/Hon ess nín istatha. Aeglos.”

“What does that mean?” Fastred asked.

Eldarion knew the verse by heart:

Gil-galad wields the mightiest Spear
Orcs well fear my point of ice
Seeing me they face their Fears,
fighting me they Earn their Deaths
Aeglos

MG: So… this is interesting, because AFAIK, this inscription is unique to the movie version of Aeglos (the book never mentions if it had anything written on it or not), and iirc also made it into the Shadow of Mordor games. But Polychron seems to have re-translated the inscription himself, since it diverges a bit from what it’s usually given as: Gil-galad wields a well made spear / The Orc will fear my point of ice / When he sees me, in fear of death / He will know my name: Aeglos. …yeah, big surprise, I like the original version better.

“With your permission, Eldarion,” Elladan requested. “This is an Elvish glaive forged for the hands of Elves.”

Sonam: Kindly ignore Thorin Oakenshield, the dwarf who wielded – and was buried with – the elvish sword Orcrist! Or does it only count this way for spears?

“Of course,” Eldarion said, agreeably. He wondered if he was going to get a sword. He mused if he did, it couldn’t possibly be as legendary a weapon as these two already given to others. It didn’t matter. He could make do with a dull, unbalanced common blade. His skill was such, it was all he needed. He had before. The fortunes of war made it certain he would again.

Shade: Oh, by the Four, enough with your self-pity! How very hard it must be for you to be so damned amazing that you’ll need one of the greatest weapons in your world’s history to make you feel complete, and I can tell that’s how you feel no matter how much you try to explain it away (and there’s nothing to unpack there!). Most of us don’t have a fraction of your advantages in life, and we manage just fine! Oh, boo-hoo!

Elladan gave the broken spear to Elrohir. “When we retake the smithies of Imladris, this Spear will be reforged, just as Narsil was. The two blades that mortally wounded Sauron outside Barad-dûr will be fitting companions when you wield this in battle beside Elessar, for even in death, the victory went to Gil-galad and Elendil. You will wield this spear against Orcs and Orcelven, they will see in its glittering blade their deaths and we will at last fulfill our Oath.”

Sonam: *weakly* Oh, good, the twins still intend to commit genocide. How… nice for them.

MG: …I also don’t think we know enough about the fight to know what wounds, if any, Aeglos actually gave Sauron (and all we know about Narsil’s role is that Isildur used the hilt-shard to cut the Ring of Sauron’s hand). No points here, just felt like noting that.

Elrohir accepted the Spear from his brother. Bowing humbly, he set it aside and they went to work on the second loksboks. Learning as they went, they opened the second one faster.

Shade: By the Eagle, that was just one box? What’s in the next one, the Silmarils? *beat* What am I saying, that’s probably exactly what it is…

Elladan lifted a black sword in a leather scabbard. “This is Anguirel, the Iron of Eternity. It was forged of baenpet, called the ‘Metal of Heaven.’ It fell as a flaming star and became one of two blades forged from it by Eöl, though the other has been lost.”

“There is no hide it cannot pierce, no creature’s blood it cannot drink and kill with just its thirst for blood,” Elrohir added. “It can cleave all earth-delved metals, even galvorn and mithril.”

Shade: Oooh, it can even cleave galvorn, that’s how we know it’s fancy! *rolls her eyes*

MG: “Baennet” seems to be Polychron’s own terms; Tolkien just describes Anguirel as having been forged from iron that fell from the sky (ie, a meteorite) along with its mate Anglachel. Eol gave Anglachel to Thingol as payment to be allowed to live in Nan Elmoth – it was eventually given by Thingol to Beleg, then claimed by Turin after Beleg’s death, reforged into Gurthang, and then shattered after Turin committed suicide with it. So, not exactly “lost,” just broken. Anguriel was kept by Eol himself until it was stolen by his son Maeglin; its fate isn’t revealed in any of Tolkien’s writings, but I kind of always assumed it went over the Caragdur in Gondolin with Maeglin when he fell to his death there and was lost. Again, no idea how it got here, though I’m not giving a point this time.

Elladan approached the group, but wasn’t heading for Eldarion. He gave Anguirel to Elboron. “This is yours.”

“Way to go Elboron!” Ælfwine shouted, slapping his back. “Now you don’t have to be jealous. But you do have to be careful not to cut my helm!”

Elboron blushed, self-conscious. He wasn’t used to being the center of attention in this particular group. He bowed to Elladan. “Thank you, Prince. I am humbled by your generosity.”

Cheers rose, everyone applauded and he got a kiss from Celendrian. She had recovered and now brightened at their good fortune.

Shade: *rolls her eyes* Well, great for them. Now I’m just worrying about what Eldarion’s going to get – he’s clearly being saved for last, so it’s bound to be something amazing, and amazingly stupid.

Elrohir lifted a second sword. Even in the dim lamp light, it glowed with the lightest, brightest gold any of them had ever seen. “This is Illuin, the Sword of the Sun. It was forged in Valinor by the Vala Aulë, using the same alloy he made when he created the Chariot of the Sun. It is one of only three known alloys of mithril.” He handed the golden sword to Elladan.

MG: The only Illuin in Tolkien’s writings was one of the Lamps of the Valar, not a sword. How in the hells did a sword made by Aule himself end up in a vault under Weathertop, of all places? And of course Polychron gives one of the twins the literally divine solar sword. Why does he love those two so much, anyway? They were decidedly minor characters in the source material!

Bigger, Louder, More!: 91 (I think a literal sword of the gods merits a point)

“The alloy used to create the Chariot of the Sun is called milectrum: mithril and gold,” Elladan explained. “Illuin is the only weapon made with it. It cannot be broken, melted or bent, nor will it chip, tarnish or rust. It can deflect or absorb heat or flames, even dragon fire, and it will never lose its edge.”

MG: Ignoring the over-the-top properties of the metal itself, milectrum. That’s… that’s just a mashup of “mithril” and “electrum.” Polychron isn’t even trying to give it a name that sounds like it could be Valarin or Quenya, the languages actually spoken in Valinor! That’s… that’s just unbelievably lazy, come on.

Linguistic Confusions: 51 (milectrum?)

Elrohir lifted the last sword from the second loksboks. It was a silver-black blade and it had a matching scabbard. “This is its twin, Ormal, the Sword of the Moon. It is made of githril, the same metal Aulë used to create the Chariot of the Moon.”

MG: *sighs* Ormal is also a lamp and not a sword… and just wait until we get the explanation for “githril!”

Loremaster’s Headache: 426

“Githril is the second mithril alloy, galvorn and mithril. The sword made with it is the only one of its kind,” Elladan explained. “It is the lightest, hardest, strongest and sharpest blade ever forged in Arda. In moonlight, the bearer is twice as strong as a Man and impervious to magic.”

MG: One, that doesn’t sound at all like the sword of magical weapon that would exist in Arda, and two, how the hells did Aule make an alloy of galvorn and mithril? Galvorn, as Polychron himself admitted, was only made be Eol in very small amounts, and Eol (in most versions of the story; Tolkien toyed with making him one of the Noldor of Aman, albeit even in that version a loner with little love for his own people, rather than a Sinda of Doriath but didn’t go with it) never went to Valinor! And come on, githril? That may be even lazier than “milectrum!” But of course, the important thing is that we all know it’s the most awesome metal ever. *rolls their eyes*

Bigger, Louder, More!: 92

Loremaster’s Headache: 428

He and Elrohir gave these scabbarded swords to Xiang and Pingyang. “You have given the House of Telcontar priceless heirlooms and proven your fealty in combat. The servants of the King thank you. We ask you to accept these gifts as tokens of our friendship, to honor your sacrifices and to thank you for sparring our kingdoms from the devastation of all-out war.”

Shade: Well, at least the murder twins aren’t keeping the amazingly powerful divine sun-and-moon swords? I’m honestly a little surprised…

Xiang and Pingyang accepted their swords humbly and bowed. Separately, they each quietly thanked the twins saying, “Thank you. Thank you.”

The other princes tried their best to muffle their cheers out of respect for Pingyang and Xiang’s losses, and in response to the solemn carriage of their Eastern guests and newly minted friends. But while they quietly applauded, a few couldn’t help cheering.

The twins opened the third loksboks even faster. Elladan lifted up a heavy double-headed war axe. “This is Dramborleg. It was the war axe wielded by King Tuor during the fall of Gondolin. No armor can stop its blades and no foe can survive its bite. Wielding Dramborleg, Tuor slew five winged Balrog Lords and thereby saved his people.”

MG: So, “Dramborleg” actually is canon, though fairly obscure! Tuor did use it (though I’m not sure he ever called himself “king” – Tuor and Idril became the leaders of the refugees of Gondolin, but Tuor, being a mortal, was obviously not Eldarin royalty himself; his cousin Turin actually makes a fairly specific point that the Edain themselves didn’t use royal titles during the First Age in CoH, as they’d settled in elven lands and were always technically subjects of the elvish kings). But it was presumed lost in the Downfall of Numenor, as the only known heirloom of the Edain to survive to the Third Age was the Ring of Barahir. And, uh… Tuor may have killed multiple balrogs in the Lost Tales, but balrogs were much more common – and much weaker – in that version of the mythology. I kind of doubt he managed such a feat in the canonical version… just a hunch…

Loremaster’s Headache: 430

“It has been treasured for ten thousand years,” Elrohir told them. “It has survived the Falls of Gondolin, Beleriand and Númenor, yet it has always found a way. It is one of the most precious Heirlooms of the House of Elendil.”

Sonam: *weakly* Ah, yes, the axe itself has somehow always found a way… that is not at all disturbing and even sinister, and reminiscent of a certain Ring from the original tale…

Elrohir lifted one of the largest black galvorn ring-mail shirts from an iron mesh girdle and followed his brother. Elladan approached the faces of the expectant princes. Each one wondered who was going to get the fabled galvorn mail and double-bladed weapon. Each envisioned themselves cleaving Balrog Lords and fire-breathing dragons.

MG: …every recorded slaying of a balrog in the Legendarium was a mutual kill; every dragon-slaying where we have details of the deed was done from stealth or from a distance, not a face-to-face encounter. So, what I’m saying is… good luck with that.

Elladan stood before them. Silently looking past them, they stepped aside. He walked through their ranks and gave the great war axe of Tuor to Manus Tarqus, son of Oduduwa, trader from Greater Harad.

“Me?” Manus asked. He hefted the heavy war axe and accepted the mail shirt.

“Congratulations, my friend!” Eldarion said. He clapped Manus’ shoulders and clapped while the others cheered and applauded. “We would not be here if not for you! I hope we live to see our journeys through to their ends, together. I esteem your good cheer and great strength, and prize you and your companion’s skill at arms!”

Shade: *Eldarion* And your openly professed desire for a Ring of Power doesn’t even worry me in the slightest! I am very smart.

“No one here is better suited to this weapon, nor more deserving,” Elladan said. “Many are the untold tales of the journeys and battles of Manus Tarqus, son of Oduduwa, fought in every corner of the world. Yet greater are the deeds and battles lying before you, still to be done and won, if you persevere.”

“Dramborleg will serve you well,” Elrohir told him. “You will wield it with your great strength and aid its bitter bite better than any other warrior or prince assembled here. Use it well against this gathering of Evil we now face in this last great War of the Rings.”

From the loksboks, Elrohir drew a black-scabbarded black blade. “This is Dagmor, the Slayer of Darkness. It is the only galvorn blade forged by Eöl to survive the Fall of Beleriand. It was given to Beren, son of Barahir, lover of Lúthien.”

MG: When. How? The HoME does give “Dagmor, the Slayer of Darkness” as the name of a sword that belonged to Beren, but it was never said to be made of galvorn or forged by Eol – in fact, we know nothing about it at all, and certainly not if there was anything special about it beyond “a sword Beren happened to own at one time.” And why the hells are all these First Age artifacts buried in this one random vault under Weathertop? Why did Elendil have all this stuff? Just… why? (I know why… so Polychron can rattle all the names off as he showers everyone with stuff, of course!)

“It was he who took from Morgoth’s iron crown the Silmaril, so they could wed,” Elladan told them. “Their descendants founded the House of Númenor. No Evil thing, Shadow or Dark Enchantment can withstand the stroke of Dagmor.”

Sonam: I… I think everyone here knows who Beren was. He was only one of the greatest and most famous heroes in this world…

Eldarion was certain this sword was intended for him. Elrohir gave it to Alatar.

Shade: Oh, great, just what he needed. But I guess giving him options other than blowing stuff up might be helpful?

“Thank you,” Alatar said bowing, surprised to receive the last of the loksboks blades.

From another wire mesh girdle, Elladan retrieved a long, exquisitely balanced short sword with a broad blade. It was pointed, double-edged and encased in a mithril sheath. He kneeled before Elanor. “Lady Elanor, Handmaiden to the High Queen Arwen, this is yours.”

“What is it?” she asked, accepting the short sword that to her served as a broadsword.

“This is Eket, the short dagger-like stabbing sword worn by Isildur during the War of the Last Alliance,” Elrohir answered. “With Eket, he slew many terrible foes and brandished it before the walls of Barad-dûr. While facing the Dark Lord Sauron, it blocked the Necromancer’s most powerful weapons without breaking.”

MG: As we mentioned back during Glorfindel’s flashbacks, Isildur didn’t have a sword called Eket, he had an eket, which is a kind of Numenorean short sword that from its description sounds a bit like a Roman gladius. And from Tolkien’s account, I’m not even sure Isildur had to fight Sauron himself – adaptations tend to make it more dramatic, but the book makes it sound more like he just finished an already-wounded Sauron off.

Loremaster’s Headache: 431

“Are you sure it should go to me?” Elanor asked. She looked at Fastred and Theo.

“When Isildur swam into the Anduin, fleeing Orcs at the Gladden Fields, he invisibly wore Oialëhén,” Elladan explained. “He disdained every weapon, except this.”

“But I don’t know how to use a sword,” Elanor protested.

“So expertly balanced is this blade,” Elrohir told her, “with minimal training, in your hands it will seem alive. Let it guide you during battle and it will never let you fail.”

Sonam: And here I thought martial training required years of practice – apparently that only matters when someone doesn’t have a magic sword that does everything for them!

She bowed her head and curtsied. “Thank you, Prince Elladan, Prince Elrohir.”

Everyone cheered and applauded, amazed by the myriad wonders. They pondered the adventures before them, more than a little scared.

MG: I swear, all this cheering and applauding is getting so repetitive, it really is just making me think of the “and there was much rejoicing” gag from Holy Grail! Yaaaay…

“These legendary weapons are not trophies, nor given to the unworthy,” Elladan said. “Too often the price of their power was paid with the lives of the people who wielded them.”

“As their bearers,” Elrohir explained, “this is part of the responsibility you were born with, have long ago shouldered or must now accept.”

Murmurs of assent and approval rose throughout the group and everyone nodded.

Shade: Oh, yes, I am truly feeling the weight and grandeur of this moment, and not at all feeling my eyes glaze over from this incredibly tedious laundry list of things.

The loksboks were empty. No ornately decorated or rune-engraved scabbards or swords were left and the group began breaking up.

Sonam: Because after all of this, everyone was feeling pretty hungry and thirsty, so it was time to break for lunch!

The princes started ordering and recording the remaining treasures before calling their men-at-arms to pack and carry them out.

Sonam: *winces* Ah, yes, I can really feel the deep respect for the weight of history that’s stored here…

“Uncles,” Eldarion said, smiling politely, yet feeling somehow forgotten. He hadn’t received a weapon to replace the ones destroyed while fighting the Nazgûl. “Please, excuse me. I must go and find a discarded sword on the plains of the Weather Hills.”

Shade: *snorts* I see through you, princeling! You just want us all to feel sorry for you for not getting a fancy new toy, aren’t you? Well, guess what, it’s not working!

“We have not forgotten you,” Elladan said, smiling.

“Our most worthy and beloved Prince,” Elrohir added, nodding.

Shade: *muttering* Oh, for the Four’s sake, of course not…

The others fell silent and returned to where they had been standing, giving the twins their undivided attention.

The Elvish brothers went to the third and highest level. A little apart, they faced each other and each one pressed a hidden panel. On the wall, the outline of a secret door appeared. Black at first, the outline began to glow. Outside the glowing lines at shoulder level, the outlines of two small ten-inch cubes appeared, then pivoted on metal rods. The cubes were so well- crafted, the hollow stones swiveled open noiselessly. Each cube contained an eight-inch metal figure in the shape of mechanical armored Men. They were made of bronze with riveted bands of iron, brass and copper going around their foreheads, throats, thick arms, waists, big legs and big sturdy feet. The thick soles of their heavy boots were made of lead. The metal puppets moved with highly specific motions, as if suspended on strings.

But there were no strings.

Sonam: …I admit, I wasn’t expecting that?

Shade: *clearly disgusted* And what new bit of fresh nonsense is this going to be?

In their big strong iron hands were brass bugles. They set them against their copper lips, as if they blew. From deep in their chests rose the notes of a rousing song.

“What are they?” Elanor asked.

“These are Autono-men!” Manus told her. “I have seen them many times. They are found in the south of Hither on the southern tip of South Harad. They can also be found in the East of Kalórmë just East of Hildória, beyond the eastern edge of the East Sea.”

“We have them in Hildor and Oronto, in Murmenalda,” Pingyang said. “In the Royal Palace of Qubing, I received one as a gift from my grandfather when a child. So delightful are their melodies, I have faithfully replaced broken parts and kept it repaired and fair. Mine is polished and burnished bright, a delight to the eye and ear. They are very precious things.”

MG: …and, apparently these things can be found just about everywhere except the regions of western Middle-earth where the stories mostly take place and our heroes happen to be from! What’re the odds? I also can’t help but think that Tolkien would have a heart attack to have a name as dumb as “Autono-men” anywhere near his carefully constructed languages, but maybe that’s just me… I just can’t help but feel it sounds so childish…

Expansion-Pack World: 32

The Autono-men opened. In the center of each eight-inch figures from under its gears and springs stepped a six-inch Autono-man. They too blew their horns and opened. Two four-inch Autono-men stepped out and blew their horns. These opened, releasing two-inch Autono-men who proudly marched out and joined the others, completing the ever higher and happy song.

The smallest Autono-men were immediately swallowed by the larger ones, one after another. The rejoined eight-inch Autono-men completed their march inside the blocks of stone.

The blocks swung shut and their outlines vanished.

Shade: *stunned* Have…have I eaten another batch of bad mushrooms by accident (don’t ask…) and they’re only just now kicking in? Is that’s what’s going on here? Is that’s what’s going on here? Is it? IS IT?

Sonam: *discretely scoots away from her*

The dark outlines of two large doors appeared on each side of a ten-foot door. They were just as big, ten-feet tall. The outside doors swung open on greased and soundless hinges.

Through the open door on the left marched a larger than life, eight-foot tall, iron, brass and copper Autono-man. He wore the golden crown of a king. Pressed against his copper lips was a golden horn. From his chest in a lower and louder key came the triumphal song of the tiny Autono-men. It was full and deep, and echoed off the wall – the Song of Kings.

Shade: *faintly* The “Autono-man” is a king too. Of course he is, because clearly we needed more of those. And he has little Autono-men inside of him making music to announce his own arrival… he looks, sounds and acts like a giant godsdamned toy… is this the same story that has Estel the Prince of Rape in it? How can the same world contain those two things? Has the world gone mad, or have I?

He marched proudly past the center door and entered the open door on the right. Passing Elanor whose gift was Sight,

MG: As opposed to Elanor whose gift was turning invisible and quietly creeping out of the story before logic and order fell apart completely…

she thought she saw the lifeless, calculating, mechanical eyes of the Autono-man King on her and her Ring.

Sonam: So… is the Autono-man king supposed to be creepy? But Polychron also made him so silly… and in a way that makes him harder to take seriously, not in a way that makes him creepier! What even is this story anymore, by the West Wind?

They also found Elboron, Celendrian, Eldarion, Alatar, Elladan and Elrohir. She second guessed herself as to why he singled them out or even if he did, so swiftly had it happened. In the second door, the Autono-man King marched down a staircase into the depths and completed his song. The top of his golden crown descended, passing from sight and his heavy mechanical steps faded. The doors closed and the bright lines vanished.

Shade: *recovering herself* Well. He’s gone now. So… was there a point to any of that nonsense and is anyone actually going to comment on it, or are we just sort of supposed to shrug at it and move on?

MG: We do end up hearing more about the Autono-men… eventually. Their presence here is just completely random, though. I mean, seriously. Just… what? How do you even react to that? Anyway, the Autono-men are gone now and no one is going to mention them again in the rest of the chapter, so we can get back to the important thing – stuff.

The center door swung open, revealing an ornate Fëanorian Lamp on a golden chain hanging from the small room’s ceiling. It glowed with a golden light, the only one. A metal stand displayed a mirror-bright reflective silver-white mithril helm and ring mail. It was studded with dazzling white gems. It gleamed and glittered, as bright as stars on Midsummer’s Night. Below the bright ring mail lay a blue-white shield set with silima crystals, glittering with a pale blue light. On a golden baldric in a silma sheath, the hilt of a githril sword glittered as bright as ice.

Eldarion’s eyes grew wide.

“This is the mail of Fingolfin, his shield named Helcar and his sword called Ringil,” Elrohir told them. He lifted the baldric and brought the scabbarded sword to Eldarion.

Shade: Oh for the gods’ sake – well, we were right! Looks like he’s going to be getting the fanciest gifts after all! Because why the hells not, right?

Elladan brought the silver-white helm and mail, and the blue-white shield. “They were recovered from the Cairn on the peak of Neldëchoriath above Gondolin, by King Tuor. The shield, helm and armor were forged by Fëanor, for the great Elven High King Fingolfin.”

MG: …uh, I don’t think we know who forged Fingolfin’s weapons and armor, so correct me if I’m wrong, but considering the relationship between the half-brothers, I kind of doubt it was Feanor… if it was, Fingolfin had better have checked that stuff thoroughly to make sure it wasn’t booby-trapped. But considering the Noldor were known for being great craftsmen, I’m sure Fingolfin had no shortage of smiths he could have commissioned to make his armor and Ringil. I’m also not finding any evidence of “Neldëchoriath” being the name of the mountain where Fingolfin was buried… or as a name that occurs anywhere at all

Loremaster’s Headache: 432

“He wore them during the War with Morgoth,” Elrohir said. “Ringil was forged by Eöl and enchanted by the Valar to absorb, deflect or cleave any spell in Arda, save Ilúvatar’s own.

MG: *muttering* For the Valar’s sake, Polychron, why do you love Eol so much? Eol hated the Noldor – he’d be about as likely to forge a sword for the High King of the Noldor as he would be to French-kiss Ungoliant, and he might find the latter preferable! Or did Fingolfin seduce him into making Ringil for him, like Galadriel was implied to have done? Probably not, considering Polychron’s proclivities – after all, Fingolfin wasn’t a woman. And again, Eol never went to Valinor – when could the Valar have enchanted a sword Eol made for Fingolfin? Is this supposed to be Polychron’s explanation for how Fingolfin wounded Morgoth? I don’t really think any explanation is necessary, beyond that Morgoth had permanently incarnated himself in a material body, and therefore was bound by the laws of the material world and could be harmed by material means.

Loremaster’s Headache: 435

Fingolfin wore Ringil while at war in Angband, slaying many orcs and Balrog Lords.”

MG: *muttering something about how balrogs are never disposed of casually, even for the greatest warrior of the elves, and there’s no indication Fingolfin ever even killed one of them, much less “many”*

Loremaster’s Headache: 436

“None could breach his armor or stand against his sword,” Elladan explained. “He fought Morgoth longer and more savagely than any before or since. Seven times, Fingolfin wounded Morgoth. On the brink of death, the Dark Lord leaped up and brought his cudgel down.”

MG: …no. Fingolfin’s a badass, don’t get me wrong, but it’s pretty clear Morgoth was never “on the brink of death.” Dude was completely immortal. The Sil implies it, with the Valar making it plain the Noldor have no ability to destroy Morgoth by force of arms, and the HoME confirms it – he diffused his spirit throughout all of Arda, so he could never truly be killed while the world exists (with the side-effect of greatly weakening himself in every other way, admittedly). Fingolfin hurt him, but never really stood a chance of killing him and in time Morgoth wore him down. We get a play-by-play of the fight in the Sil, and a longer one in the Lay of Leithian; this isn’t subtle.

Loremaster’s Headache: 437

“Fingolfin leaped aside, but Morgoth caught him and crushed the Elvish King beneath his boots,” Elrohir told them. “Before he died, Fingolfin stabbed Morgoth’s foot and the Dark Lord was forever lame.” He kneeled before Eldarion. “This hallowed blade is yours, my future King.”

Shade: Probably corroded to the point of uselessness by the blood of an evil god all over it, but it’s yours! Congratulations!

For a moment, Eldarion’s composure left him. He gaped at Helcar and Ringil. When his self-possession returned, reverently, he lifted the shield and baldric. Drawing the blade, the air grew cold and his breath misted. The blade glittered like ice with the light of winter stars.

“Ringil means ‘Cold-Star’ in Sindarin, a fitting name,” Eldarion said. He sheathed Ringil and hugged his uncles, unmindful of protocol before other princes. “Thank you, tyenya. Now, having made such kingly gifts, you must also arm yourselves.”

Sonam: *groans and buries his face in his hands* Not again – admittedly, as a monk my own needs are simple, but enough is enough!

“We shall,” Elladan said. Picking up two quivers of black clothesline arrows, Elrohir lifted a matching longbow. Elladan gave the quivers to Elerith. “Well you used the Nazgûl dart, yet these are better. Númenórean swords or spears were not feared the most. It was their hails of arrows. These are named Dailir. They were used by Bregor, forefather of Beren and Túrin. He never failed to recover them in battle. The secret of why his arrows never broke is because they were forged by Eöl of galvorn. Bregor was called Cúthalion, ‘Strongbow,’ thus I christen you.”

MG: “Cuthalion” was an epesse of Beleg, one of Thingol’s most prominent retainers and friend and mentor to Turin Turambar, and “dailir” was a name used for one of Beleg’s arrows in the earliest version of the tale of the Children of Hurin. Beleg’s not exactly an obscure character, and as far as I know Bregor the forefather of Beren never bore such a name, though as his bow became an heirloom of the house, he was presumably known as an archer. Did… did Polychron just mix their names up because they sound vaguely similar? Even though Beleg was still around long after Bregor died? *headdesk*

Loremaster’s Headache: 439

“The foes of Númenor cried, ‘The men of the Sea send before them a great cloud, as rain turned to serpents, or a black hail tipped with steel!’” Elrohir said, handing her the bow. “This is Belthronding, the hollowed galvorn and mithril compound Bow of Bregor, of the House of Bëor.

MG: Belthronding was Beleg’s bow! Dear Eru Iluvatar and all the Valar, he really did mix up Bregor and Beleg, didn’t he? *boggles* The quote about Numenoreans arrows is canon, though; it’s from Unfinished Tales. So he’s got that going for him, at least. But still… damn.

Loremaster’s Headache: 440

It was the most renowned in Númenor. Larger than others, its hollow arrows strike harder than crossbow bolts, yet the string pulls light as a harp. They can be disassembled and hidden, and contain secret weapons to surprise your enemies. They will you serve you better than any other.”

“Thank you, uncles!” Elerith cried. She hugged them both, amazed and delighted.

Shade: Also confused, because she knew her history well enough to know this didn’t make a lick of sense, but she knew better than to look a gift bow in the mouth… or, er. Wherever.

The twins went to the back of the Treasury. Behind the staircase were suits of Elven armor, bows and arrows, swords and helms. They singled out two curved blades. “These are Elvish Lhang swords,” Elladan said. He picked one up, inlaid with gold. “Expertly balanced, they require minimal energy. Their long handles perfectly fit our hands. We can wield them with one or both hands and swing in any direction. These are the swords we were raised wielding. The Galadhrim and High Elves esteem Lhang swords above all others.”

MG: Lhang swords are a design invented for the movies; they don’t appear in the books. Not giving a point, because they are something that appears in a version of Middle-earth, just thought that was something worth pointing out.

They each took a saber and strapped them on their backs diagonally over their Lhang swords. The pommels rose over opposite shoulders, easily within reach.

“These Elven Lord Sabers have shorter hilts and are easier to use while riding horses,” Elrohir told them. “This is the fighting style we favored in Imladris. Arwen and we prefer these.”

MG: “Arwen and we” is technically correct, I’m pretty sure… but damn, if it doesn’t sound awkward.

On the top tier were matching suits of Elvish mithril armor and two scabbarded blades.

They donned the armor and fastened the blades to their sword belts.

Elladan explained, “These are the unique identical twin Elven Lord Sabers forged at the direction of Thranduil, the Elvish King of Mirkwood. They share a single name: Hadhafang.

MG: …Hadhafang is Arwen’s sword from the movie version of FotR. The prop department apparently worked out a history for it – that it was originally Idril’s sword that she used during the Fall of Gondolin, and was passed from her to Earendil, and from Earendil to Elrond, who used it during the War of the Last Alliance, and then from Elrond to Arwen. So, again, not something from Tolkien, but something from a version of Middle-earth, at least. But… it was one sword, not two. And what the hells is it doing here?

Loremaster’s Headache: 443

Forged from a single piece of mithril, it was hollowed out and engraved with runes of ithildin and gold. These are the blades we were destined to wield in this last great War of the Rings.”

Sonam: *eyes glazing over* Is everything here meant to be used in this coming war? That seems… improbably convenient, and probably took a lot of hard work from people who would never even live to see it pay off. I hope they were compensated for it, at least?

Finally they took from the wall, four pre-assembled double-bladed polearms, carved from greenwood shafts. They bore matching curved Elven blades on both ends, forged of bronzed steel. The twins spun them parallel to their bodies, holding the handles in the middle of the shafts below their waists, the best-armed Elvish warriors in all of Middle-earth.

Shade: *muttering to herself* Give me a few moments with their backs turned, and I’ll strip them both, just you watch…

“For those of you who wish,” Elladan pointed out. “Here there are mithril and galvorn swords and helms, shields and armor, lances and spears.”

MG: Polychron, please, shut up about freaking galvorn! It’s not very common; very little of it was ever forged. I don’t even think most people know about it by the time this fic takes place! Was mithril just not special enough for you? Of course not!

“Complete your armor and armaments,” Elrohir told them. “As you see fit.”

Ælfwine and his sisters began looking over the various girdles fitted with arms and armor. They were quickly joined by the others. It was not long before everyone had completed their gear.

MG: *sighs* This really is just everyone levelling up after they beat Erestor, isn’t it?

Their men-at-arms were called and they started boxing the rest of the treasures.

With their love of exploring holes, the hobbits searched every corner of the Treasury. Fastred found a small loksboks at the top. He took it to Eldarion, who gave it to the twins.

Shade: *muttering* And what fresh hell is in here, I wonder

They opened it. Inside were intricate and beautiful, mithril fillets designed to be worn across the forehead. Each was styled differently and all were set with a single dazzlingly white gem.

“These were made in Númenor,” Elladan told Eldarion. “They are the symbol of authority worn by Númenórean kings, since the time of Aldarion.”

MG: I can’t find any indication that Aldarion had anything to do with this (though I suppose Polychron had to work him in somewhere…) and in any case, though Numenorean kings did wear these, the chief symbol of royalty in Numenor was always the Scepter, not the diadem.

“Can I have one of those?” Fastred asked. The twins looked at him. “It’s not for me! Uhm… this is a ‘Fellowship of the King’ secret. Is that alright?”

Sonam: Oh, dear. I think young Fastred wants a crown of his own – and protests a bit too much about it! That doesn’t seem like a good sign…

Eldarion smiled. “Yes, Fastred. Agreed. Go on.”

“Well… there’s a certain maiden hobbit I’m thinking I might ask one day to marry me” he said. “Not today! But someday when the time is right, it would be the perfect betrothal gift.”

Sonam: Oh, so he wants it as an engagement gift for Elanor! That’s… at least he doesn’t want it for himself? Though crowning your betrothed with a symbol of royalty from a kingdom that was famously destroyed by its last monarch’s hubris seems like it would be an ill omen for the marriage!

“It is a magnificent idea,” Eldarion told him. “Take whichever one you want.”

Fastred dug through the box and withdrew the one at the bottom. It held the most beautiful white gem any of them had ever seen. He folded the intricate mithril filigree and put it in a pouch under his shirt. “Thank you!”

Grateful and delighted, Fastred bowed and left. Ascending the stone steps, he joined the other hobbits near the top of the treasury.

When he was out of earshot, the twins stepped over to Eldarion.

Elladan asked politely, but confused. “Tell us again: who is this – Fastred, son of Folcred… and where did you meet?”

Shade: Uh… he’s a perfectly ordinary hobbit who tagged along on this quest because he’s Elanor’s maybe-sort-of-boyfriend? Except he’s also got that damned Turin-stone and everyone seems really fascinated about him for some reason… this is going to end up having something to do with why you think he’s the real author’s self-insert, isn’t it? *groans*

MG: *grimly* Yep. But in any case, while I’ve long thought that this fic is in some ways the mini-PKH of the Lord of the Rings fandom, this chapter feels… particularly PKH-y to me. Why? Because it’s all about stuff, of course! Seriously, the whole thing is all about everyone pawing through a collection of First and Second Age artifacts (all gathered here in the middle of nowhere, for some reason…), some of which shouldn’t even exist anymore and none of which should be here, and taking their pick, while the fic ooohs and aaahs over them and all the cool powerups they’re going to get from them. It just feels completely at odds with the theme and tone of LotR, and I swear it really is just a case of “we beat the boss, time to get the loot.” *shrugs* Maybe it’s supposed to be like the “Galadriel gives the Fellowship gifts as they leave Lorien” scene, but that wasn’t a fraction as over-the-top as this, and Galadriel’s gifts were all personal and/or practical, not this smorgasbord of powerful and famous artifacts. And then of course you have the inexplicable cameos and the Stone-men and Autono-men, who’ll be more important down the line, and the equally inexplicable but much more appalling revelation of Ulbandi’s backstory and how apparently the true original sin in this version of Ea wasn’t actually the Discord of Melkor, but feminism. *fans self in mock horror* Anyway, that’s all for today. Next time, our heroes will be taking a little trip… a “Journey in the Dark,” you might say… we’ll see you then! Our counts stand at:

Bigger, Louder, More!: 90

Expansion-Pack World: 32

Feel My Edge: 108

Happy Ending Override: 30

Linguistic Confusions: 51

Loremaster’s Headache: 443

Pervy Hobbit Fanciers: 62

Plot-Induced Stupidity: 161

Rings-a-Palooza: 179

Take That, Tolkien!: 50

Traveling at the Speed of Plot: 60

The Unfair Sex: 123

I’m also currently reading the Star Wars Expanded Universe comic series Dark Empire on my journal; check it out if you’re interested! Updates Tuesday and Thursday.