Fellowship of the King Book II Chapter Eleven: Secret Meetings, Part II

[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! We’re almost to the end, folks, and what a journey it’s been! Last time, Fastred became a dragon rider, Arwen was possessed and subsequently exorcised, the Shire was militarized to an unsettling degree, and everybody sort of shrugged and decided to give Manus Tarqus a free pass for the whole “selling weapons to the enemy” thing. Today, we continue tying up loose ends on the way to the fic’s final and actual climax, as more strange, non-Tolkienan magics are explored, and certain characters may like parts of The Silmarillion a bit too much. Joining us today will be Thalia and Sonam!

Prince Faramir arrived with General Beregond, his assistant and principal Counselor.

MG: Huh, last we saw Beregond in LotR, he was “just” made the captain of the White Company, Faramir’s personal guard. Guess he came up in the world a bit; good for him! Though, as I believe I’ve noted before, the title “general” isn’t really used in Middle-earth – military officers, even those who command entire armies, are generally just referred to as “captain,” unless they’re Rohirrim, in which case they are instead called marshals. Not giving a point here; just felt worth noting.

Beregond brought his sons, Bergil and Borlas.

MG: This is interesting to me. Bergil, of course, is Beregond’s son who Pippin met in RotK when he first came to Minas Tirith. Borlas, on the other hand, only appears in one place – the abandoned “New Shadow” draft, by which point he’s a very old man. So… is Polychron trying to imply that the “New Shadow” fragment is in-continuity with FotK? Because, uh… “New Shadow” implies that no dark lords or other supernatural threats have arisen in Middle-earth since the fall of Sauron, and that people have consequently grown complacent and forgetful. Not really sure how Glorfindel assembling (and Ulbandi hijacking) seemingly every bad guy ever, and the ensuing “War of the Ring to End All Wars of the Rings” (gods…) fits into that…

Loremaster’s Headache: 533

The Crown Prince Elphir of Dol Amroth also came, leading armed royal guards from Gondor, Ithilien and Dol Amroth, to escort Arwen home.

Sonam: *looks at a map* So… it looks to me like Ithilien is a province of Gondor, and Dol Amroth is a city in Gondor, so… shouldn’t they all be “from Gondor?” Unless King Elessar is about to have a secession crisis on his hands…

MG: Well, if you’ll recall, Yeskov didn’t seem to understand that Ithilien was part of Gondor either…

Faramir was overjoyed to find his children Elboron and Niphredil unharmed after the Battle of Weathertop. He greeted Eldarion and his family with great warmth and affection.

Thalia: Ah, yes! And this dry, distant description of that just lets the warmth and affection drip right off the page!

Celendrian stood beside Elboron and welcomed Faramir just as warmly. They’d always had a special fondness for each other. Faramir was delighted to learn they’d plighted their troth.

Sonam: From what I recall, they had sex. Once. Now, having entered the Monastery of the Two Winds at a young age and taken a vow of celibacy upon becoming a full monk, I may not be a particular expert in such things… but this makes it sound like they were engaged to be married, which is rather more serious!

At Elessar’s request, Eldarion called a council in the nearly rebuilt Palace. In a solemn ceremony, what had once been the House of Elrond was rechristened the Palace of Elendil.

MG: Why? Elendil like visited Imladris during the preparations for the Last Alliance, but I don’t think he ever lived there – why rename it for him instead of for the person who was master of that household for almost the entirety of its existence? And it was, indeed, the last homely house, not a palace. And, for the Valar’s sake, Rivendell was completely destroyed and now it’s apparently been completely rebuilt off-page, and has a freaking palace now. Just… just why, Polychron? Why!?

Bigger, Louder, More!: 108 (for the Last Homely House’s upgrade)

Traveling at the Speed of Plot: 71 (building at the speed of plot once again)

In the center of the largest hall on top of a high white marble pillar, they set the large grey marble of the glowing Elostirion-stone. Everyone took to calling it by its other name, the Elendil-stone.

Thalia: Because it’s… no longer in Elostirion, I guess? But maybe you should send it back? I’m sure Cirdan misses it! And while it appears “Elendil-stone” is indeed a proper name for this Palantir, wasn’t it more often Elendil’s Stone? Because Elendil was a person, not a place?

It was now the fourth in service to the King.

That night, Eldarion held a special dinner for his mother. He honored the many princes who rode to his defense at Weathertop and to her rescue from the dungeons of Glorfindell.

Sonam: Well, if he’s cramming them all in there, that might explain why he needed a full-sized palace…

As good hosts should, he mixed the seating arraignments so people who didn’t know each other well (or at all) would have a chance to meet.

Thalia: *hunches down in her robe* Perhaps I could take dinner in my room, instead? That sounds like… quite a lot.

No one missed the fact that on his left, he seated the Crown Princess Malvia, and on his right, the Princess Pingyang.

Sonam: And? Is there some special meaning to that? Is he planning to marry both of them, then? I didn’t think Gondorian royalty practiced polygamy, but I guess there’s a first time for everything!

Afterwards, he held a formal ball at the much more grandly rebuilt and newly rechristened Palace. Everyone came dressed in white.

Thalia: That sounds rather monotonous, actually…

Many hobbits, young princes and dwarves requested a dance with the Lady Elanor.

MG: Well, aside from her own part in recent events (which wasn’t really that much, despite ostensibly being the main character) she is the daughter of a famous war hero and at least an honorary handmaiden to the queen, so I can see why she’d attract interest. *beat* Also, when did the dwarves get here? They’re not subjects of the Reunited Kingdom! Maybe they were helping with the rebuilding?

Eldarion’s attention was in high demand among the many princesses and Ladies.

Sonam: Why is “Ladies” capitalized but “princesses” isn’t? Should it be the other way around, if anything?

Yet he seemed to be spending a great deal of time dancing with Pingyang. She was the most graceful dancer and they were a striking pair.

Ælfwine was the most popular. Not only was the red-haired prince devastatingly handsome, he insisted on dancing with as many princesses and ladies as he could.

MG: Oh, for Orome’s sake… remember in Last Ringbearer how absurdly horny Yeskov’s Eomer was, to the extent that his big battle speech to rally the Rohirrim was all about how much sex they’d all get in the afterlife (and it worked, despite being based on the teachings of a religion none of them actually followed)? And Elfwine is Eomer’s son… *facepalms*

His conversations with each of them seemed genuine and very personal. Many ladies were charmed by Ælfwine ‘The Fair’ Éadig, the dashing red-haired Crown Prince of Rohan.

MG: Again, we’ve mentioned this before, but “Eadig” was Eomer’s personal epithet, meaning “the blessed.” It’s not a dynastic name; Rohan’s royal family is just the House of Eorl.

His sisters Éodyn, Idris, Liathwyn and Minwyn didn’t find the ball to their liking.

Thalia: Hmmm; it doesn’t really seem like they’d have this sort of thing in Rohan, does it? I’d imagine their celebrations would be a bit… livelier, and involve rather more ale and singing. Also, I can’t imagine they’re terribly endeared by watching their brother trying to get various women into his bed, either. I understand; I don’t think I’d like this party much, either.

The princes and men they danced with were confused by these beautiful princesses that weren’t scheming for a husband and knew more about weapons, equestrianism and world events than they did, yet little to nothing about knitting, gardening or the insides of a kitchen.

MG: …this just makes them feel all the more like the Rohirrim princesses are just generic tough girls who can’t have any traditionally feminine interests because they’re tomboys, don’t you know, so of course they can’t be in any way girly. Though I’m left to wonder how much gardening or kitchen work princesses would actually be expected to be doing themselves (they’d be more likely to be in charge of the people who are in charge of the people who run the gardens and kitchen, I’d think!); I’m less sure about knitting, but I’d think that weaving is probably something they would be well-educated in. Edoras has lots of banners and tapestries, and they presumably came from somewhere, and weaving is commonly a female-coded craft – I’d imagine that the royal sisters would at least be trained in it and experienced enough to converse about it, even if they didn’t care for it.

The Unfair Sex: 166 (for the surface-level tough-girlness)

One of the few exceptions was Xiang. He happily danced with them and enjoyed their conversations. Sharing news, he told them tales of Hildória and learned much of Rohan. But he made sure he danced the same number of dances with each princess.

The Haradrim kept a watchful eye on Manus and Malvia. The two of them danced with others. Only once did they allow themselves the pleasure of dancing with each other. Yet in that moment, sweeping across the dance floor, there was something about the two of them. Not even the glow from Eldarion and Pingyang could outshine the magic enveloping Manus and Malvia.

Sonam: *flatly* Yes, I’m so happy the amoral arms-dealer and traitor is having such a good time with his lady love. Why did we forgive this man, again?

MG: Authorial favoritism, Sonam. Authorial favoritism.

Though unintentional, after telling Faramir they’d plighted their troth, the ball became something of an impromptu engagement party for Celendrian and Elboron. Many royal families and citizens, who’d been saved from the armies of the Nazgûl Kings by Celendrian assembling the Princes Brigades, were eager to express their gratitude.

Thalia: Who? Oh, dear, are more royals simply manifesting from the aether to fill out the guest list at this inexplicable party? That seems… worrisome. Maybe it should be investigated?

They took turns, conveying their prayers and heartfelt wishes for a long life and every happiness to the resplendent royal couple.

Having taken a break from dancing with the Princess Liathwyn, Xiang stood beside his father’s chief councilors, Shouxing, Luxing, and Fuxing.

Sonam: *blankly* Who came from where, exactly? Seriously, I think Thalia’s theory about party guests manifesting from the aether has merit… this worries me!

They observed the Princess Pingyang, again dancing with Eldarion.

Fuxing spoke in Hildórian. “I do not recall your sister requesting your father’s permission to court this foreign Prince.”

“Most noble councilors,” Xiang responded, in the same language. “Let us not interfere tonight. Eldarion has shown nothing but favor to myself and Pingyang.”

Sonam: He’s also the crown prince of a powerful foreign kingdom. Are you really sure you want to risk him marrying Pingyang and then then having a claim to Hildoria’s throne as well? I think this is the sort of thing they’ve fought wars over…

“You believe she should be allowed to court and marry a foreigner?” Shouxing asked.

“I do not,” Xiang answered. “If the decision were mine, I would not approve such a match. However, tonight they are simply dancing.”

Thalia: That last part is fair enough – but the first seems uncharacteristically xenophobic for Xiang! If all that he objects to is his sister marrying a foreigner and not the political implications, that is. I’m not sure I like Xiang that much…

“Some in your father’s Court have urged him to seek such a match for your sister,” Luxing told him.

“They are strong allies and our need for allies has never been greater,” Xiang agreed. “I respect this Prince and his family. Yet I cannot agree with such a match.”

Fuxing looked at Xiang curiously. “Yet you dance with these foreign princesses and with more than simple courtesy. Perhaps you feel as you do, because Prince Eldarion, Princess Celendrian and Princess Elerith show as much favor to your sister, as to you. If this feeling while watching your sister is uncomfortable in this foreign land, perhaps you should welcome it.”

Sonam: …why do I have a feeling we’ve stumbled into some sort of internal Hildorian argument we’ve not been given any context whatsoever to understand?

“Eldarion has invited you to go to war with him to Khazad-dûm,” Shouxing told Xiang. “Have you considered whether you wish to accept?”

“I wish to go West,” Xiang responded. “To see the Elves of Lindon. I have stood on the shore of the Eastern Sea. I will be the first of my people to travel to the western shore. Perhaps I will be the first person ever to travel from one end of the world to the other. I am going West.”

Thalia: Hmmm; I believe your world used to be flat but is now round. So, I think you missed your chance, unless you mean to circle the whole globe. Which you could do!

There was one beauty dressed in white with the most full and ravishing red hair. She was the Bell of the Ball – the Lady Drendelen.

Thalia: …unless she’s wearing a bronze dress with a clapper inside, I think you mean “Belle?” The alternative sounds quite noisy!

She seemed to be suffused with a pale glowing light, dancing with Elladan. She refused all other partners. The two had eyes only for each other.

Sonam: Yes, the traitor and the murderer are having a lovely night, it seems! Can’t say I think much of this party!

Most surprising, Elrohir danced almost every dance with Niphredil, midway on the ballroom floor, as if trying to blend into the crowd. Nothing could disguise Niphredil’s beatific face, as if happiness and joy had been created this very night, for her alone to experience. They were so radiant, no one could miss or mistaken them for any other couple.

Thalia: …were Elrohir and Niphredil a thing? How did I miss that? Had we seen it before?

MG: I don’t think we have, no. And… I have to say, this pairing unsettles me, and not just because it comes straight from nowhere. Elrohir, as we know, is a millennia-old elvish warrior. Niphredil I don’t think can be any older than twenty, and might well be an actual teenager. And, considering her father is Faramir, who is of Numenorean blood, she’s presumably somewhat longer-lived than an ordinary human (though most of the Dunedain of the late Third and early Fourth Ages are shorter-lived than their ancestors, based on the lifespan’s we’re given of the Stewards and some other characters, they seem to still make it past a hundred more often than not) in any case she likely hasn’t reached her majority by the standards of her people yet! It’s Elanor all over again! Now, age gaps are an inevitable aspect of elf-mortal romances, but Beren and Tuor were both seasoned warriors and adventurers when they met Luthien and Idril, and while Aragorn was a youth when he met Arwen, by the time they entered a serious relationship years had passed and he’d gotten some real life experience and maturity under his belt as well. Niphredil, so far as we know, hasn’t – and narratively, she’s just been a background character when the various royal kids get together. Not helping is that I don’t like FotK!Elrohir either. But in any case, it can’t help but feel like we have a millennia-old immortal taking advantage of an inexperienced girl. And, well, it creeps me out just a bit.

Pervy Hobbit Fanciers: 89

At the edge of the dance floor, Faramir watched, fuming at the sight of his daughter dancing with the Elvish Prince. Elanor didn’t understand why he wasn’t thrilled to see his daughter so happy, and in the arms of such a handsome and renowned royal escort.

Sonam: Perhaps he has a better sense of the character of Elrohir the war criminal than you do, Elanor, and is wise enough to want him nowhere near his daughter?

She couldn’t imagine any woman nor any father, whether commoner or king, who could hope for a better match for his daughter than Prince Elrohir, son of Elrond, Prince of Rivendell.

Thalia: …I am suddenly compelled to make an alphabetical list of all the young men (and women? Do we know where Niphredil’s interests lie, exactly – best to be thorough!) of appropriate age, marital status and social class in Gondor – I think any of them would be an improvement over one of the twins! Though I fear Polychron cannot see it…

Between her many dances, she wondered what had become of Fastred.

Midway through the Ball, he appeared elegantly dressed in a new, dashing, white velvet suit and tails.

MG: Why am I suddenly imagining Sam groaning and shaking his head at the flashy outfit?

Wearing white gloves, he looked very solemn. She hoped he wouldn’t bring Theo up again. She wanted one night apart from the tragic memories she knew would never leave her.

He asked her to dance as sheepishly as she accepted. They danced awkwardly. It was nothing at all like the night of her two-and-twentieth. The conversation was no better. It was as if neither could think of, or worse, had all that much to say to the other.

Thalia: Why, it’s almost as if neither of them had much personality of their own when Polychron wasn’t steering them… which has disturbing implications, I have to say!

It was an unfortunate misunderstanding that ended their dance, when Elanor asked,

“Don’t you think you’re overdoing it, with all these new titles and offices?”

“What do you think I should be doing?” he asked.

Sonam: Maybe not act like you’re trying to beat whoever holds the previous record for climbing the ranks of nobility in Arnor and Gondor?

“I don’t know,” she answered. “Maybe you should ask Eldarion to teach you how to use my Barrow – ”

Thalia: Aha! I can help you there! The use of a barrow is simple. First, you dig it. Then, you find a dead person or people to put in it! Then you bury it again. Though I’m a bid dismayed wondering about just who Elanor wants Fastred to bury in a barrow, or how Eldarion is supposed to help…

“I knew it!” Fastred shouted. He let go of her hand and stepped away. The people dancing around them widened the gap and stared at them. “You think it’s my fault Theo died fighting Glorfindel – because I wasn’t a good enough swordsman!”

Sonam: Now, now. I know survivor’s guilt isn’t logical, but I’m not sure what swordsmanship was supposed to do against Glorfindel’s… fire eyes?

Elanor was shocked at his inappropriate, false and very public accusation. She burst into tears and the musicians stopped playing.

Eldarion excused himself from Pingyang. He crossed the dance floor and extended his hands, stopping anyone from approaching. “Master Fastred, Lady Elanor. What seems to be – ”

“It’s all right, your Highness,” Fastred said. He bowed formally before the Prince. “This is my fault. My apologies. I was just leaving.”

He stormed out.

Thalia: And of course, everyone was paying attention to this because they are, after all, main characters!

In the sudden hush, Faramir ran onto the dance floor and found Niphredil. “This dance is over for you. We are leaving!”

MG: And here we go with the derailment of Faramir, of all characters (he usually escapes that!). Or at least, attempted derailment. I think stopping his daughter from wanting to marry Elrohir the mass-murderer is probably a good idea, but Polychron just as clearly doesn’t share that opinion. And so Faramir is going to start acting, for the remainder of his appearances, as if he’s possessed by Thingol at his worst. And no, I’m not making that up.

“Father, no!” she pleaded. Tears poured from her eyes and horror replaced her happiness.

Seeing his anger and disapproval, her unbridled joy shattered.

“You will do as I say!” Faramir shouted, grabbing her arm.

Sonam: …I see what you mean. Who is this man, and what has he done with the wise and gallant Faramir?

“Release her!” Elrohir commanded. His eyes and hands burned with bright blue fire.

Thalia: That’s not very impressive. I can do that too! *holds up her hands, which are indeed burning with otherworldly fire* See!

MG: Glorfindel had fire-eyes, Elrohir has fire fists – does Polychron just think elves are firebenders or something? Valar help us, have Embers and FotK broken containment, and are about to fuse together into one incomprehensible epic?

The ballroom erupted with cries of alarm at the Elven Prince’s unprecedented display of lethal Elvish power that almost no one in attendance had ever seen before.

MG: Because elf “magic” doesn’t work that way! Let’s look at some of the most magically gifted elves in Arda’s history, shall we? Feanor was a smith and craftsman of wondrous objects more generally. Luthien’s powers mostly involved misdirection, illusion, or otherwise influencing people’s minds and mood, with some shapeshifting for herself and Beren under the right circumstances (but keep in mind her mom was a Maia, and Melian seems to have been a peer of Sauron power-wise); Galadriel is most known as a seer; even Finrod, who does engage in magical battle, does so in a contest of songs rather than by tossing around raw power like this. Note what’s missing? Any quantity of fireballs. That sort of elemental power is more the province of the Ainur (though there is that one time the Witch-King made his sword burn when confronting Gandalf – what sort of dark magics have the murder twins been studying?).

Loremaster’s Headache: 534

Most everyone backed away. Ithiliens unconsciously assembled behind Faramir. Elves gathered around Elrohir, including Elladan.

“No, please!” Niphredil told Elrohir. She twisted free of her father and stood before him, not frightened, yet beseeching. “He doesn’t know any better. Please! Don’t hurt him.”

MG: So, not only is fic!Faramir an overprotective (in Polychron’s view) judgmental jackass, he’s also an idiot who doesn’t know what he’s doing. Yep, that sure sounds like our Faramir, all right. Always picking fights and rushing thoughtlessly into things – sounds just like him! *rolls their eyes*

Together, Elboron and Eldarion moved to intercede.

Celendrian drew herself up to her full height and held out her hands. “Wait!”

Throughout the room, Elves and Men (and women) stopped dead in their tracks.

Thalia: Elf-women, however, managed to escape the command through a loophole in the phrasing. Drendelen knocked Elrohir unconscious with a convenient vase, and his spell was broken and common sense returned to the room.

Celendrian stepped in front of Niphredil and turned her wrath on Faramir. “Perhaps you are jealous of your daughter’s happiness. But I do not care where your twisted desires come from!

MG: Oh, gods – I don’t want to know what Celendrian thinks Faramir’s “twisted desires” are!

I will not allow you to punish Niphredil for wanting to be happy. I would tell you what you can do with your penal envy, but I am a Princess who will one day be a Queen. The way you have dishonored yourself is worse than anything I could say, inhuman of anyone! Much less someone once ‘thought’ to have royal blood. It is now clear, Éowyn married beneath her. You were never meant to be a king. I forbid you to deny Niphredil’s right to be a Queen!”

MG: …Faramir is of the House of the Hurin, ie, the House of the Stewards. That dynasty ruled Gondor for a thousand years. And while they were not of the royal line (which is why, when Mardil took the throne, he did not take the title “king,” a tradition his descendants followed), the Appendices and HoME do indicate they were related to the royal line in some way. And Gandalf explicitly tells Pippin that Denethor has “far greater lineage and power” than Theoden, even if he doesn’t call himself a king. So, Faramir is, IMO, about as royal as a guy can get without actually having a royal title. And Celendrian really doesn’t have the power to cast judgment on him like this just because she doesn’t like the way he’s behaving at a party (and in a sane universe, I think he’d be right to keep Niphredil away from a maniac like fic!Elrohir). And it’s doubly insulting because Tolkien was very fond of Faramir and often put his own ideas in his mouth, and so seeing him done dirty hurts. Even Yeskov liked Faramir! Yeskov!

Take That, Tolkien!: 59

Faramir stood frozen, caught between the stern looks of Eldarion and Elladan, Elrohir’s fury and the Majesty of Celendrian.

Elboron pulled his father away.

MG: Faramir faced down the Nazgul, twice, kept command of his men enough to prevent their retreat from becoming a rout, and only abandoned the field when he himself was injured, nearly fatally. You’re going to have to do better than that to reduce him to stunned silence, Celendrian!

Things quieted down. The crowds dispersed. Palace servants brought fresh trays of food and more drinks. The band began to play again and people went back to dancing.

Sonam: Ah, yes. Trying to ignore the awkward moment by pretending it didn’t happen as we all go back to doing what we were doing before – I’m told nobles excel at that sort of thing!

Incánus and Alatar went looking for Fastred.

They found him with Belethor, sitting on the roof of the Palace of Elendil. Fastred was busy scribbling on a piece of paper. He occasionally looked out into the bright moonlight. The full Moon sailed across the sky and its reflections glistened across the roaring falls of Rivendell.

Thalia: Be sure to wave at Tillion when he passes! I think he’d like that.

“You shouldn’t draw in the dark,” Incánus warned. “It’ll ruin your eyes.”

“I’m not drawing,” Fastred told him. “I’m writing.”

“What are you writing?” Alatar asked, sitting beside him. Incánus sat on his other side.

“It’s a poem,” he answered.

Thalia: Alas, the world was not ready for yet another Polychron poem…

“It’s my first. But it’s not very original. I guess it’s an answer to the poem Eldarion shared outside the Collocoll cave.”

Sonam: Which wasn’t very good either, I recall…

“Let’s hear it,” Alatar invited.

“Uhm…” Fastred responded. “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s very good.”

Sonam: Which would at least be consistent with this author’s previous attempts…

“No judgements,” Incánus said. Alatar nodded in agreement.

“Well…” Fastred said. He looked at Belethor, then cleared his throat. “Okay.”

I am a gem that is possessed
By caves within the sea
A fragrant flower inflamed in red
That nobody can see

I am a Hobbit who never saw
My dreams become reality
No single glory I ever sought
Has ever come to be

No where in time, no when in space
Have I successfully
Both sought and found, then finally lived
My chosen destiny

This unhappy place became that world
In which I never caught a wave
Nor escaped the stifling darkness
That is with me in this cave

Thalia: Well, that was… morose. And self-pitying, especially from someone who has his own dragon and a growing list of titles! I think there are people who would quite literally kill for any of that!

MG: And flows… okay this time, at least, though there are a couple of lines that are rather awkwardly phrased, IMO. And it’s still obviously ripping off the form and style of Tolkien’s (or rather, Bilbo’s) own “I Sit Beside the Fire And Think.”

“What’s wrong, Fastred?” Alatar asked. “What happened between you and Elanor?”

Sonam: …he thought she was judging him, so he reacted badly and bolted? Is it really that hard?

“I don’t think she likes me anymore,” he answered, crumpling the poem and tossing it.

“What makes you say that?” Incánus asked, retrieving the crumpled paper.

“It used to be whatever we did, we’d share and make the most of it,” he answered. “But ever since Theo died, I… I feel like she wishes I – was… more, like Theo.”

Thalia: Hmmm; we went through this once, now we’re going through it a second time. I fear for what the remainder of this story might entail, if so!

“We’re all still grieving,” Alatar told him, missing his real meaning. “Give her time.”

Incánus caught it. “What could Theo do that you can’t?”

Sonam: He had a magic rock? Which he didn’t get to use before he died, but the thought counts!

“Theo… knew how to use a sword,” Fastred answered. “He knew how to fight. All I can do is row a boat and draw.”

MG: This might be more dramatic and believable if we’d ever really had any indication of a Theo/Elanor/Fastred love triangle outside of a few brief moments, or if we didn’t know from the appendices that Elanor and Fastred not only get together, they found a whole new family line, named for Elanor herself!

“You don’t need me to tell you that those are rare and special gifts, and not your only two,” Alatar told him. “I’ve seen you pilot ships across the oceans beneath the Earths. You’ve faced warlocks, broken Valarin enchantments, rescued primordial beings, befriended the Father of Stones! The things you’ve done, the places you’ve gone – I don’t care what anyone says, not even Lady Elanor. You, Fastred son of Folcred, are a Prince among Hobbits.”

Thalia: *muttering* And also the author’s favorite character, or one of them at least, I’m increasingly coming to believe…

Fastred looked up with a trembling smile, not daring to believe him. Belethor rubbed his head against Fastred’s chest and howled at the Moon.

Sonam: …can dragons contract lycanthropy? Surely someone has studied that before – the implications are rather horrifying…

“If all you want is to use a sword,” Incánus said, speaking loudly over Belethor’s howling. “Why haven’t you unlocked the power of your Túrin-stone?”

MG: Oh godsdammit, Incanus. The last thing this story needs is more superpowers! Seriously, what part of Tolkien leaves you with the impression that “weigh everyone down with lots of flashy, magical artifacts and abilities” was at all thematical consistent with his stories…

“No,” Alatar told Incánus.

Belethor stopped howling and stared at them.

Thalia: Well, Incanus did work for Swahilloguz – I wouldn’t trust him! And I remain confused why he’s allowed to still be around…

“No?” Fastred asked. “What does that mean?”

“Do not bring your Haradrim magics to the North Kingdoms!” Alatar reproached.

MG: …that just makes me think Incanus’s magic is like Charter Magic from the Old Kingdom books, or AonDor from Sanderon’s Elantris, and is region locked. Which doesn’t fit with how magic is portrayed in Middle-earth at all (maybe the Ring getting stronger the closer it gets to Mount Doom is kind of similar?) but that ship sailed long ago.

“Wait a minute,” Fastred said. “Tell me what it means to ‘unlock’ the Túrin-stone!”

“Incánus!” Alatar warned.

Thalia: Possibly a key of some sort is involved? Maybe a metaphorical one? That’s generally how locs work…

“He wants to know,” Incánus responded. “He’s the Guardian of the Stone! He should be given access to its abilities. It could have made a difference against Glorfindel.”

All Sporkers: *groan loudly and facepalm*

“What?!” Fastred shouted. He jumped to his feet and Belethor squawked, leaping from his lap, flapping his wings and sliding across the ceramic roof shingles.

Sonam: I agree with the halfling lad – enough is enough!

* * * * *

With King Elessar’s permission, Alatar called a secret emergency meeting of the Heren Istarion through the palantíri.

Sonam: Ah, another reference to the chapter title! Didn’t we have one of those last time? I wonder if the title is so generic because Polychron had to come up with something relevant to the entire chapter, which is a bit… unfocused.

Radagast stood before the Palantír of Osgiliath beneath the Dome of Stars with Princess Éowyn. Pallando stood before the Palantír of Anor beside King Elessar, Emperor Guan and Prince Imrahil at the top of the Tower of Echthilion. Alatar and Incánus stood before the Palantír of Elendil, in the Palace of Elendil in Rivendell. Beside them stood the twins, Eldarion, Celendrian, Elanor, Fastred and Belethor.

Thalia: I’m left wondering how all of these people knew to be gathered around their palantiri at exactly the right time. Did they have a meeting to arrange the meeting? And another meeting to plan that one… this could get very complicated!

“Raising the dead is the darkest Necromancy,” Alatar told them. “It’s an evil enchantment only used by Morgoth and his lieutenants.”

MG: I mean, when we’re talking about resurrecting the dead and aren’t referring to the Ainur (or re-embodied elves like Glorfindel), the most obvious example which comes to mind… is Beren and Luthien, who were brought back by Mandos with the approval of Manwe and, implicitly, Eru. Which, you know, did not involve Morgoth or his lieutenants, and was the culmination of one of Arda’s most beloved heroic stories! In point of fact, I can’t think of any time where Morgoth (or Sauron, Gothmog, Glaurung or any of his other lieutenants) actually resurrects the dead. Closest is the Witch-king sending evil spirits to inhabit the Barrow-downs and reanimated the bodies buried there, creating the Barrow-wights… but that’s hardly the same thing as bringing the actual dead people back!

Loremaster’s Headache: 535

“Connecting Fastred, the Lawful and duly appointed Guardian of the Túrin-stone,

Sonam: Which is to say that Cirdan just sort of gave it to him randomly for no reason at all…

to the abilities of Túrin Turambar through his Stone is not ‘raising the dead,’” Incánus explained. “It is simply giving Fastred the ability to voluntarily use the link that already exists between them, which Túrin uses constantly.

Thalia: …I consider myself decently well-versed in how otherworldly forces can affect the material world, and in light of that I have to say… citation needed? Because I have no idea how Turin is connected at all to a device created to hide his burial shroud after he was already dead.

In Harad, we do this every day for things as important as approving treaties and blessing weddings, to things as mundane as a single throw in a game of dice.”

MG: …what the hells? I’m getting shades of how seemingly everyone outside of western Middle-earth knew about the Autono-men from a few chapters ago! Except this may be even worse, because the Sil is very explicit that the souls of humans linger only briefly before leaving the Circles of the World entirely, and even the Valar don’t know where they go or what becomes of them. What instances we do have of the dead lingering long-term usually seems to be a sign they’re bound by something, such as the Oathbreakers or the Ringwraiths. Being able to whistle up the dead at will like this at all seems like it would be essentially impossible; doing it so frivolously just trivializes the entire concept of the Gift of Men. I’m just left boggling at the implications of this.

Bigger, Louder, More!: 109 (for the casual use of immensely powerful magic)

Loremaster’s Headache: 536

“Fastred’s life is not a game!” Alatar shouted, quite out of character his friends noticed, though they said nothing.

“Alatar, old friend,” Pallando said. Elanor realized, before arriving in Middle-earth, just as the wizards of the north had taken the appearance of the northerners and Incánus had taken the appearance of the Haradrim, Pallando had taken the appearance of the Hildórians.

Sonam: And Alatar… didn’t?

“In Hildória, this practice is also commonplace. We do, however, call it by a different name.”

“What do you call it?” Alatar asked.

“In Hildória, we say ‘calling on the spirits of our blessed ancestors,’” he answered. “We do this for strength, skill or courage. Regardless, whether you say ‘spirits of ancestors,’ ‘souls of the dead,’ fëa, or even ghosts or ghouls, really, it is the same thing. In the East, these customs are highly respected and commonly practiced. It is most Orthodox.”

MG: “Orthodox” with a capital O makes it sound like it’s approved by a specific religious institution or tradition by that name, tbh. And I’m still getting “everyone else knows about the Autono-men already” vibes… and how does Alatar still need this to be explained to him when he also spent centuries in the east? I’m starting to think Incanus and Pallando are making this up, though for what reason I’ve not yet figured…

Bigger, Louder, More!: 110

Plot-Induced Stupidity: 191

Emperor Guan confirmed Pallando had correctly represented their most devout practices and cherished beliefs.

“There are significant differences,” Radagast noted. “Just as the way Men and Elves utilize the services of Beasts. With Elves, Beasts aid them as friends, with mutual respect and mutual benefits. Beasts toil in the fields for Elves and Elves protect them from predators. They attend to each other’s needs in a voluntary and happy exchange. Men use animals as slaves. Or worse, as fodder for their kitchens.

MG: I think the Rohirrim would be quite surprised and offended to hear you dismissing their beloved steeds as “slaves.” And that’s not even getting into Beorn and how protective he was of his animals!

The difference for spirits is whether they serve voluntarily and if so, and perhaps even more importantly, if they serve out of genuine love and respect.”

Thalia: Well, considering Turin committed suicide from grief and despair, he might not appreciate being called back…

“Radagast has hit the nail on the head!” Pallando exclaimed. “This is why the practice works so well in Hildória, but is so dreaded in Mordor. Thüringel’s spells are involuntary curses, inflicting evil spirits in destructive possessions.

Sonam: This would be more meaningful if we had literally ever seen Thuringel doing anything like this…

In Hildória, people only call on their ancestors they trust to help voluntarily, doing good works for their descendants and those they love.”

“Since we are in the West,” Eldarion asked the assembled wizards. “Is there any way in which Fastred could be harmed?”

Sonam: Do you really think it’s the geographical location that determines whether summoning the dead is good or evil? Is that what you took away from this? Because I don’t think that’s the idea…

Radagast and Pallando deferred to Incánus.

“If Túrin Turambar was an evil person, or a good person unwillingly summoned, or a spirit who wished to possess Fastred or harm him, then yes, there could be a danger,” he answered.

MG: How about a basically good but deeply flawed man who was in a terrible emotional position when he died, having just discovered he had unwittingly committed incest and then murdered a friend in a rage for calling him out on it? And was carrying around a lot of grief and trauma already from his life before that? All of which was enough to drive him to suicide? I’m really not sure we should count on Turin being in a helpful or friendly mood when he shows up, come to think.

“But Túrin is the hero of the Valar! I don’t believe he would ever possess Fastred against his will. I’m sure he only wants to help him defeat our enemies.”

Thalia: …this is often how people talk before they get eaten by planar monstrosities. Just a comparison that occurred to me!

“How can we be certain?” Eldarion asked.

“The simple answer is to just ask Túrin,” Incánus told him.

Sonam: So, we’re going to tell whether or not the ritual to contact Turin’s spirit is safe… by performing the ritual to contact Turin so we can ask his opinion? I… don’t think that logic checks out, actually!

Plot-Induced Stupidity: 192

* * * * *

Fastred was laid on a table beneath the Palantír of Elendil. Incánus placed the Túrin-stone on the center of his chest. Alatar asked if Pallando could perform the ritual.

Thalia: Well, on the one hand, I would not trust Incanus either, particularly, but on the other, perhaps having someone who is actually here perform the ritual might work better?

He responded by saying his experience was in summoning groups of ancestors who knew their descendants well, having observed and guided them from afar for centuries, and eagerly welcoming the opportunity to help even more, so therefore disinclined to hurt or possess them.

MG: Still not how the afterlife for humans works in Middle-earth, just so we’re all clear on that…

Loremaster’s Headache: 537

Calling a soul to aid someone they didn’t already know, and know well, and asking them not to possess or hurt, but to help. No. Even though it should only be done after consulting Túrin and confirming he wanted to help, and had no intention of harming or possessing Fastred, still, the only wizard of their Order to cast these enchantments was Incánus the Gold.

Sonam: …I’m very confused as to the… order of events here.

The Council agreed, over Alatar’s objections, to honor Fastred’s wishes. Incánus requested Manus and Malvia assist him, as was customary in Harad.

Thalia: Manus and Malvia must be very busy, then, if it’s customary for them to assist in this ritual every time it’s performed!

Pingyang, Xiang and Guan were invited to attend, being particularly experienced in the pray, consultation and worship of their blessed ancestors. Elessar attended through the palantíri.

Alatar suggested and Elessar agreed: the Heren Istarion and the Fellowship of the Ringbearers were invited to observe, learn and lend whatever aid they could, if necessary.

Sonam: …are we really sure that an audience – including some of the most powerful people in the world, no less! – is going to be particularly helpful for Fastred here?

Elboron stood on one side of Celendrian and Elanor on the other, holding Belethor. He was obviously very worried and constantly fidgeting. The baby dragon held onto Elanor tightly. He kept burying his head in the crook of her neck, looking back at Fastred and covering his eyes with his wings. She did her best to comfort him. The twins flanked Eldarion.

Thalia: Unfortunately, their presence turned out to be a mistake, as instead of Turin, the ritual ended up raising a vast assembly of orcish spirits, who cried out in one terrible voice “we shall have our vengeance!” and hurled themselves at the twins. Exit Elladan and Elrohir, pursued by angry ghosts.

Incánus took his time, sparing no effort to ensure no harm would come to Fastred. He layered many different spells of protection. His voice was deep and resonant. When he lifted his golden staff, his golden robes glistened and glowed. They were dazzling and warm, but not too bright or blinding. The rich warm light was soothing.

Sonam: At least he’s committed to a theme? A rather garish-sounding theme, admittedly, but even so…

It wasn’t just the sight of the light – it was the feeling. It was as if someone was singing, and it was such a happy and beautiful song. Elanor wished the ceremony could go on, just so she could continue experiencing Incánus the Gold casting an enchantment.

Thalia: Run, Elanor! I think he’s putting you in a trance!

MG: Yes, this sounds weirdly like the way the voice of Saruman is described as affecting those who listen to it… as if we needed another reason not to trust Incanus…

Whatever congress he and the Istari had with the spirit of Túrin Turambar, only Manus and Malvia shared it. For several minutes, their eyes glowed as golden as Incánus’ robes. The golden glow slowly waxed warmer and brighter, filling Fastred’s eyes. Then it faded, twinkling here and there, and in their eyes, until it was gone and things were as they had been before.

“How do you feel?” Incánus asked Fastred. He took the Túrin-stone off his chest and examined it carefully. Handing the Stone back to Fastred, he helped him sit up.

“All you alright?” Alatar asked. Stepping up to them, he stood on his other side.

“I feel fine,” Fastred answered. He put the stone back in its mithril case, tucked it under his shirt and looked at his hands. “But I don’t feel any different. I don’t think it worked.”

Thalia: Considering some of the other options for it going wrong, this actually seems like a decent outcome all around!

“Incánus, these are your spells,” Pallando said, through the Anor-stone. “Is there a way to test them and confirm they worked?”

Sonam: Throw a punch at him and see if he demonstrates some hitherto-unsuspected combat skills in response?

“We just have to throw him into a fight,” Incánus answered.

Sonam: By the West Wind I swear I was joking.

“You’re not ‘just’ going to throw him into a fight!” Alatar shouted.

“How can you test fighting skills without fighting?” Incánus asked.

Thalia: Sparring, maybe? That’s kind of like fighting, except it’s just for practice and you’re not actually trying to kill each other, usually…

“Are you trying to get him hurt?” Alatar responded. “This is my friend! He’s not some random villager. He’s a member of the Fellowship of the King!

Sonam: That implies that if Fastred was just a random villager, Alatar would have no qualms throwing him into danger – I still don’t think I like this wizard very much!

He wears the timbarëmírë, a Starbrow. He’s an Elf friend! For Eru’s sake, he’s the Lord of Dragons!!”

“I’m the – what?!” Fastred asked. He jumped off the table. “Belethor, is this true?”

Belethor climbed out of Elanor’s arms, over her shoulders and onto her back. He looked at Fastred over the top of her head, nodding in embarrassment that he hadn’t mentioned this yet.

MG: Oh dear gods. Between all the shenanigans with the Turin-stone, having a baby dragon imprint on him, all that business with coast-of-arms, and now this… is anyone still wondering why I suspect Fastred is the, or at leas an, author avatar for Polychron, and likely would have turned into an utterly insufferable stu had the series continued? I mean, just… wow. Especially considering “lord of dragons” isn’t even a thing that exists in Middle-earth, and probably couldn’t be, considering since Morgoth was defeated, dragons as a whole haven’t willingly served anybody!

“What does that mean?” Fastred asked.

Thalia: Considering the history of dragons in this world, I somehow doubt it’s anything good… but if Fastred would like to commiserate with someone who understands the experience of being selected by forces beyond your comprehension for a role you barely understand, I am available!

“Fastred!” Manus yelled. Pulling out his dagger, he hurled it at Fastred’s heart.

Sonam: …I think we really ought to have seen that coming?

Fastred swung his arms forward and slammed his flattened palms together, pinning the dagger a foot from his chest.

MG: So, Fastred had to prove he’d been influenced by Turin’s spirit, by pulling off a move that’s as much about luck as skill? And when I can’t recall Turin ever doing anything like that? Hey, here’s a thought – Turin was a swordsman, and Fastred isn’t much of one! Why not give Fastred a sword and see if he suddenly knows how to use it better? But I guess that wouldn’t be “cool” enough for Polychron…

He flipped the dagger up, spinning it in a high circle and catching the hilt in his right hand. Looking at it, he didn’t quite believe what he’d just done. He flipped the dagger, spinning it over his head and catching it just as skillfully in his left. “It worked!”

MG; *sighs heavily* Of course it did.

The other wizards began congratulating Incánus. Belethor, Eldarion and the twins surrounded Fastred, asking him questions. Elanor, Celendrian and Elboron stood off to the side.

Thalia: That Fastred might feel in any way disturbed or traumatized from this experience seems to have occurred to none of these people. *sighs sympathetically* It’s truly sad how few people understand such things.

After the ceremony, Elanor returned from the Palace to the small cottage the twins had given her family. There, she found Sam busy packing. “Where are you going?”

“Elessar has summoned Arwen, your mother and me to Minas Tirith,” he answered. “We leave in a few days.”

Sonam: …I’m not even going to bother asking when and how – through the Palantir, maybe? – this happened.

“This seems a bit sudden,” she said. “Though it does make sense, I suppose.”

“I want you to come with us,” Sam informed her.

“You know I’ve always wanted to see Minas Tirith,” she told him, yet she pulled away. “What has Eldarion said?”

Thalia: And why does his opinion matter, exactly? I thought “king” outranked “crown prince,” – but I’ve been wrong before!

“This isn’t his decision,” Sam responded, without the rancor he’d expressed in Bree. “You’re in your two-and-twentieth year. You’re a young woman now. You can make your own decisions.

MG: Except that hobbits come of age at thirty-three, so Elanor still hasn’t reached her majority by her people’s standards – we’ve been over this!

I’m just hoping the wishes of your father still carry some weight. If they do, please say you’ll come! The baby will be born in Minas Tirith. It would mean so much to your mother to have you there for the birth of our last child.”

He wasn’t fighting fair and they both knew it. Her mother would have asked Elanor herself if it was something she wanted that badly.

This didn’t mean Rosie didn’t want her there. Elanor knew she would. She wanted to be there too, if she could. Rosie would sleep better and have a much better delivery if she went with them and was there for her, as she’d been before. She also wanted to help Eldarion on his Quest.

She could not do both.

Sonam: And Eldarion’s quest is… what, exactly? Finding a bunch of rings, including the Master-ring? And having no knowledge of where to even start looking? And I guess this somehow prohibits going to Minas Tirith, where I believe they have a very old and well-stocked library that might be of some use?

“I understand much better now, your words to me in Bree,” she told him. “And I love you for them. You were right. War is an evil thing. Being attacked and seeing so many people die… watching Theo die – ” she had to stop. Her father understood and waited. “It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I knew any of us, or all of us, could die at any moment. There were times we came close, just as you and mother came close. We could still die. I understand it in a different way now. But how I feel hasn’t changed. If anything, I feel even more strongly than before that this is my duty and I have to keep doing it. I have to stay with Fastred, Eldarion, Celendrian, Alatar and the twins, to see this through to the end. Whatever end awaits me.”

MG: Huh, is this an actually Tolkien-like sentiment I’m seeing? One not unlike Sam’s own growing realization of why he needed to stay with Frodo and see the quest through to the end? From Polychron? I’m kind of in shock!

“This isn’t like before,” Sam told her. “I don’t know why, but Hobbits never died on Quests before! We could have, easily. Frodo and me, we cheated death on our way to Mount Doom a dozen times. So did Merry and Pippin during the war. Dozens! As for Bilbo, I’ve never counted. There’s no good explanation. It just didn’t happen. Now here we are, at the start of another terrible war. But this is just the beginning of what’s sure to be a longer and even deadlier Quest full of many more dangerous journeys and battles… and Theo’s already dead!”

MG: Actually, iirc, Tolkien originally intended Pippin to die at the Black Gate, but CS Lewis convinced him to spare him. But it’s not like the hobbits were in some protective bubble in-universe – Sam knows full well it was very possible for them to have died plenty of times during their quest, and he knew better than anyone how damaged Frodo was from his ordeal even after he came back. I get that he’s clearly shaken by Theo’s death and that’s what Polychron is going for, I just think it’s worded rather awkwardly.

Hearing her father say it, she burst into tears. She couldn’t stop remembering Theo very much alive one moment, fighting beside them and the next, pinioned in Glorfindel’s new and terrifying power he’d named his Fire Eyes. It was magic of the darkest and most lethal kind.

MG: Actually, I’d say it was weird, cartoony and quite possibly ripped off from DC Comics’ Darkseid… though I can understand why Elanor herself might have a different opinion on the matter.

Her father held her a moment. Composing herself, she pulled away.

“I know you’re almost all grown up now and old enough to make your own decisions,” Sam told her. “But won’t you please come with your mother and me to Gondor? We’ll all be safe there and you can welcome the newest addition to our family... please?”

“Actually, Lady Elanor,” Eldarion said. He came through the open front door with Alatar, Incánus and the twins. “My father has recalled all three of you to Gondor. Pack your things.”

Sonam: Well, that was convenient.

“There is,” Celendrian said, standing in the back door with Pingyang, Elerith, Malvia and Niphredil, “another consideration. I spoke to father too, after you, Eldarion. Master Samwise, I hope you’re not offended and it doesn’t alarm you, but the King has agreed: if she wants it, I may offer Elanor a role to play in this War of the Rings to end all Wars of the Rings.”

Thalia; Regardless of how ridiculously the war may be named, that sounds like Elanor has the option of either fighting in it or just sitting it out completely. Which I don’t think is how that works? Sam himself should know better than anyone that sometimes war can come home in the most unexpected and terrible of ways!

“Excuse me, your Highness,” Sam said, bowing humbly. “But Elanor is my – ”

“Father,” Elanor said, gently. She took his hands in hers. “I’m in my two-and-twentieth year now. As much as I love you, and want to please you, I will make my own decisions.”

Sam stood face-to-face at last with the inescapable reality: in his heart, she would always be his little girl, but the time had come. He had to trust he and Rosie had done a good enough job for her to stand on her own two feet.

He had to let her go.

MG: …dammit, this might actually have been a powerful scene if the whole fic leading up to this point hadn’t been utter nonsense and rubbish.

“I- I’m sorry Elanor,” he said, looking back and forth between Eldarion and Celendrian. “You’re right. I guess, I just wasn’t ready.”

“I know,” she told him, letting go of his hands. “I love you for that. But I was serious when I said all those months ago that a woman should be given the opportunity to contribute if she wished, and I do. It’s what I want.”

MG: And this sort of performative faux-feminism might be easier to accept as genuine if Polychron’s own misogyny and myriad issues didn’t infect so much of this damned fic.

“That doesn’t mean it’s ever going to be easy for your father. But let’s not make this any harder.” He kissed her cheek and went to the door. “Discuss your plans with Eldarion and Celendrian. When you’ve made your decision, find me and your mother, and let us know.”

He left and Elanor turned to Celendrian. “What role do you have in mind for me?”

“We’re beginning our hunt for the Master-ring of Middle-earth,” Celendrian answered. She turned to her brother. “What are you going to do?”

Thalia: Hmmm; in the original story, the purpose of the quest was to destroy a weapon of immense power, because it was too dangerous to ever be used and had to be kept from falling back into its creator’s hands. This version of the story seems to be about finding and using such a weapon. That seems very telling, doesn’t it?

MG: Weirdly, I’m reminded of Joe Abercrombie’s First Law trilogy which is, among other things, a subversion of the traditional high fantasy narrative. Much of that trilogy follows a Fellowship of the Ring-style quest put together by the wizard Bayaz revolving around an ancient artifact of evil magic once used by a legendary tyrant… and that Bayaz wants to recover said artifact to use it himself, rather than to destroy it, is an early clue that he’s more of a Saruman than a Gandalf, and trusting him never ends well for anyone.

“Elessar’s first strike against our Enemies will be in Khazad-dûm,” Eldarion answered. “Alatar, Manus, Ælfwine, Legolas, Elves of Ithilien and I will join Durin VII, Gimli, and a great host of Dwarves from all seven Dwarven Kingdoms to destroy the Gauntlet of Mordor. The Balrog Lord Lungorthin and his growing armies in the tunnels of Khazad-dûm must fall.”

MG: So, this won’t be happening in this fic, but it is yet another indication that I take to mean the battle for Moria would have been heavily covered in the second fic in the series (if Polychron hadn’t ruined his own chances of that ever being written – whoops!). Though I do think it’s interesting that Legolas and Gimli are both mentioned casually here, despite their having apparently been persona no grata for decades because they’d been framed for being in cahoots with Glorfindel. I guess they got exonerated off-page, then! What an anticlimax.

“Please be careful,” Celendrian told him. She took his hand. “I know we have to, but I hate the idea of you going anywhere near a balrog.”

Sonam: That seems like a rational thing to worry about, doesn’t it? Isn’t it the case that every recorded instance of a balrog slaying in this world was a mutual kill?

“I do not relish the thought,” Eldarion said. “Though I do believe the quickest and safest place Celebrimbor could have sent the Master-ring was to the hidden treasuries in Khazad-dûm.”

Thalia: Hmmm; I somehow doubt it will be that easy! And hasn’t Moria been held by dark forces for centuries now, ever since the awakening of Durin’s Bane? Unless Celebrimbor hid it extraordinarily well, I somehow doubt that’s where it is!

“Besides the mithril,” Elanor told them, “it would explain why Lungorthin risked leading his armies through the heart of the High King’s land and across the lands of his allies.”

MG: And I guess nobody noticed this or tried to stop it? Seriously, moving large armies generally isn’t something you can do in secret, especially across hostile territory!

Traveling at the Speed of Plot: 72

“If the Master-ring is in Khazad-dûm,” Eldarion said, “we must find it before he does.”

Sonam: Well, Durin’s Bane didn’t find it! And he had centuries to look. Which would seem to indicate it’s either not there, or has been very well hidden; I think the former is more likely.

“How do we know he hasn’t found it already?” Elanor asked.

“When the Master-ring is found,” Alatar told her, “everyone will know.”

MG: Yes, I think a balrog lord finding a literally omnipotent ring would probably make a bit of an impact, yes.

“Even if it is not in Durin’s Halls,” Eldarion said, “we must reclaim the stolen Palantír of Minis Ithil. Protecting our communications could be decisive in this war. I am also certain at least two of Celebrimbor’s original Rings of Power are hidden somewhere in Khazad-dûm.”

MG: Of course they are. OTOH, getting a Palantir out of Lungorthin’s hands is a smart tactical move. Sauron got a lot of mileage out of subverting the Palantir network through the captured Ithil-stone; let’s best not have a repeat of that, shall we?

Rings-a-Palooza: 219

“I remember Alatar telling us that Lungorthin wore one of Sauron’s corrupted Seven for Dwarf Lords,” Elanor recalled. “Who’s wearing the others?”

“The Balrog Lord that Gandalf slew in Khazad-dûm is the same one who slew Durin VI and Queen Audoulna,” Eldarion answered. “I believe, on the inaccessible peak of the Silvertine beneath the wreckage of Durin’s Tower wait the Rings of Queen Audoulna and King Durin.”

MG: As opposed to Durin’s Ring, most powerful of the Seven, which was retrieved from Moria and carried by Durin’s Folk with them into exile, until Thorin’s father Thrain was captured by Sauron and the ring taken from him in Dol Guldur. I guess Durin just had a completely different ring on him too!

“Do you think Audoulna and Durin’s Rings are two of the Seven or Eleven?” she asked.

“From what we know, the Seven have all been accounted,” Eldarion answered. “It would seem they would have to be two of the untainted Eleven. However, there is a chance they could be two of the Seven. As I’ve mentioned, none of the histories of the Wars of the Rings are free from errors. Not with so many copies, translations and emendations.”

MG: Which just seems like Polychron’s excuse to ignore Tolkien and do whatever he wants. While still insisting this was a “perfect” sequel to LotR.

Take That, Tolkien!: 60

“Where are the original documents?” Elanor asked.

“Only stove-fired clay or stone tablets could have survived intact after so many thousands of years,” Celendrian answered. “Unfortunately, our scribes switched to parchment many Ages ago and our languages have changed repeatedly. Translations of copies of copies are all that remain, I’m afraid.”

MG: Well, we know that a scroll written in Isildur’s own hand survived in Gondor to the late Third Age, where it was read by Saruman and then, later, by Gandalf, so… maybe not that absolute? This is also a bit different situation than we see in our world, because while most of the prominent elves have sailed West or died, a few still remain… meaning that we still have eyewitness accounts to some of these events, including some people who lived in Eregion itself.

“Whichever they are, we must claim those Rings and search Khazad-dûm for the Master- ring,” Alatar said. “If there is anywhere it could be hidden Sauron missed, it is in Khazad-dûm.”

MG: You people seem really sure that the Master-ring could have ended up in – and been missed in – a realm that was, again, ruled by an evil demon for roughly a millennium and was, while seemingly not under Mordor’s direct overlordship, at least loosely allied with Sauron. I also can’t imagine the Master-ring would’ve actually been found there, so I can only conclude that Polychron is spending a lot of time and effort to set up this red herring.

“Maybe,” Celendrian countered. “But maybe not. Elanor, we’d like you to join us on our own Quest for the Master-ring by finding the long-lost Kingdom of Nimrodell.”

Sonam: *stunned* I’m sorry. First we had Glorfindell. Now we have Nimrodell. Do… do these people know any way to name kingdoms that aren’t terrible puns on their own names!? Is this just somehow inherent to elves? Because that’s kind of embarrassing, if so…

“I remember reading about the Elvish Princess Nimrodel,” Elanor brightened. “She lost her love, the Elvish Prince Amroth, ruler of Lórien. I didn’t know she founded a lost kingdom.”

MG: Well, there’s no indication she did. In Tolkien’s works, she seems to have vanished from history after Amroth drowned in the Bay of Belfalas (and Amroth was a king, not a prince). I suppose she could have led her people from Lorien afterwards and founded a kingdom somewhere, though it does seem kind of weird to take a minor historical character best known for her involvement in a doomed romance and making her a key to major events like this (though there was that weird earlier reference to Nimrodel needing to hide from Ulbandi – I guess that was foreshadowing?).

“No one’s ever seen it,” Elerith told her. “But there are so many tales about her and other missing Elves. They’ve all gone somewhere. Father and his Councilors believe she has.”

MG: Pretty sure the most common destination for “missing elves” is “they sailed West,” tbh. Though with the shape of the world changed and all, I suppose it’s not exactly easy to pop over to Valinor and ask after them…

“Why hasn’t anyone found it before?” Elanor asked. She was enchanted by the thought of searching for and finding a long-lost Elvish kingdom.

Thalia: Well, based on the earlier legends of this world, she would hardly be the first elf to found a hidden kingdom, would she? Perhaps she’s following Turgon’s example! Have you looked in the mountains? Maybe asked some passing Eagles?

“Círdan gave one of the Stones from the Shroud of Túrin to Elendil,” Celendrian answered. “It was passed down the Line of Kings and given to Nimrodel by King Eärnur of Gondor, to hide her from the Mad Vala Ulbandi.

MG: I still can’t get over the fact that Ulbandi was apparently known to be active into the Third Age and at the same time is a legendary figure so dim most people have no knowledge of her or her activities. It also kind of makes Sauron seem like small potatoes if there was an actual evil Vala still around at that time. I just do not think Polychron put a lot of thought into the timeline or mythology here… which is unfortunate considering the setting he’s chosen to work in!

There was no way to find her, until Eldarion discovered Círdan had given another Túrin-stone to Fastred. Only Fastred and his Túrin-stone can sense the others and help us find Nimrodel and her lost kingdom.”

Sonam: *sighs heavily* Of course it comes back to Fastred. Why is he apparently the author’s favorite, exactly?

“Oh, bother,” Elanor said.

“What’s wrong?” Elerith asked. “I thought you liked Fastred.”

Thalia: *Elanor* Well, he did, but it seems like absolutely everything has been about him lately, and I’m supposed to be the actual main character, and it’s just kind of frustrating, is all!

“I did,” she answered. “No, I do. I always have. It’s just, well… ever since Theo died, and Belethor came along, and then your father started giving him all these new offices and titles, and he started making all that money… he’s been acting – different.”

Sonam: …well, she’s not wrong. Power corrupts, and all that. And he might be possessed by an ancient tragic ghost, too. That might change a man a bit.

“You’ve been acting different, too,” Celendrian laughed. “Finding and learning to use a Ring of Power. You’ve befriended wizards and dragons yourself. You’ve fought warlocks and Fallen Elves, and you’ve even stood up to your father!

MG: Is the implication here that Sam is more powerful than “warlocks and Fallen Elves?” *beat* After all he accomplished during the War of the Ring, that’s more than fair. Though I will note that Elanor has contributed very little to any of this.

Elboron and I have had our problems too, as you’ll no doubt recall.

Thalia: Such as Elboron’s sister being seduced by a mass murderer thousands of years her senior, or their father suddenly acting like a completely different person?

More keep cropping up. It’s just growing pains. This may seem like the stupidest advice, but it’s always worked for me: try not to think about it too much. If it was really meant to be, then you’ll find a way to work things out.”

Sonam: Again, I’m not an expert, but is this advice to just… let the romance sort itself out, without either partner actually trying to do anything to patch things up? Because that… doesn’t really sound like good advice.

MG: And again, per the Appendices we know Elanor and Fastred end up together (it’s almost the only thing we know about Tolkien’s Fastred!) so it’s kind of hard to be too worried about things now.

* * * * *

Having agreed to accompany Celendrian on her Quest, the next morning Elanor was summoned to the training grounds. She wore a wooden training dagger. It served as her sword.

MG: …yes, because it’s long been established that a weapon that would be a long dagger in the hands of one of the Big Folk is sized just about right to be a short sword for a hobbit? See exhibit A, Sting.

Celendrian stood before her with a fully armed Marcidelén. “You’ve met Marcidelén.”

“Many times,” Elanor smiled, curtsying. “A pleasure seeing you again.”

MG: …okay, something about the phrase “fully armed” just makes me picture Marcidelen burdened down by every sort of weapon imaginable, like she was a Rob Liefeld character. Not helping me take this seriously!

Marcidelén bowed. “Well met, Lady. It is good to see you. I am here for your training.”

“For what, specifically?” she asked. “Alatar is already training me.”

Thalia: …I think that maybe she plans to teach you different things you couldn’t learn from the wizard?

“Eldarion said you wanted to learn to fight with Eket,” Celendrian answered. “I agree, you should. If you’re going to wear such a renowned blade, you should know how to use it.”

MG: *groans and facepalms* Once again, it’s not a sword named “Eket,” Isildur wielded a kind of Numenorean short sword called an eket! I don’t know why this bugs me so much, but it does.

Loremaster’s Headache: 538

At the end of her first hour, it was obvious Marcidelén had been starting slow and going easy on her, but her arms were already sore. In separate training pavilions around them, Ælfwine and his sisters trained at various locations. She saw Elerith, Malvia and Manus. Pingyang and Xiang were there too, and so many others. She had been faintly aware the warriors trained every morning. This was the first time she actually saw them doing it.

Sonam: *sighs happily* Ah, yes. Waking up bright and early to pray, meditate and spar – brings back happy memories!

She also learned that Eldarion had invited Fastred to the training grounds to test his new abilities. News of their arrival spread. The warriors from many kingdoms took a break. They gathered to observe the Prince and hobbit inside a fenced pen, arming themselves with wooden practice swords and training daggers. Belethor perched on a gate post, watching anxiously.

Thalia: Why are they in a pen, exactly? Is Fastred’s training perhaps going to involve releasing an angry bull in there with him and seeing how he handles it? Because I’m not sure he’s ready for that yet!

Fastred was immediately aware that Elanor had arrived.

Eldarion silently noted the arrival of Pingyang and Xiang. He held up to Fastred a tray of protective defensive pads. “You may wish to consider wearing these.”

“Thank you, your Highness,” Fastred responded, smiling. “I don’t need them.

Sonam: Well, when you wake up tomorrow morning covered in bruises, don’t say you weren’t warned…

Though as your friend, I should probably respectfully suggest you consider taking your own advice.”

Eldarion and a great many others laughed. Embarrassed at his breach before Fastred, he quieted everyone down. Stifling a last chuckle, he handed the pads to Ælfwine. Composing himself, he turned to Fastred. They bowed a few feet apart. It signaled the start of the match.

As Eldarion drew his wooden swords, Fastred leaped into his stomach, knocking him down.

MG: Since it doesn’t say what part of himself Fastred hit Eldarion’s stomach with, I’m going to imagine he headbutted him, for my own amusement.

He pulled Eldarion’s training dagger, holding it against his throat and staring menacingly into his eyes. “The best way to defeat your enemy is to prevent him from reaching the field!”

“Fastred?” Eldarion asked, startled. He looked into the hobbit’s angry eyes. Ælfwine and Elboron took a step towards them. “Is this really… you?”

Thalia: *Fastred* I have had many names. I am Neithan the Wronged, and Gorthol, the Dread Helm. I am Agarwaen, Son of Umarth, and the Black Sword of Nargothrond. I have been called the Secret and the Master of Doom. But know that my true name is Turin son of Hurin, and I have returned. You all wanted me back, and now you have to deal with me! For my Doom is not yet fulfilled! *beat, as herself* Well, that was fun!

“It’s me!” Fastred answered, waving the others away. He dropped Eldarion’s training dagger and touched his own chest. “I’m sorry! I’m not Túrin. That was just the best thing to do! Are you alright? I’m so sorry! I didn’t hurt you, did I?!”

Thalia: *muttering* The son of Hurin protests too much, methinks…

“It is alright, Fastred. Calm down. I am fine. It is just… you surprised me,” Eldarion said. He signaled Elboron and Ælfwine to stand down. He glanced at Elanor and Pingyang. “The first point is yours. Now, would you please be so courteous, as to kindly get off my stomach?”

The watching warriors laughed.

Sonam: …I think we’re not the only ones who felt the good prince needed a bit of humbling?

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Fastred said. He rolled off the Prince and onto his feet, picking up the wooden training dagger. “I’m so sorry!”

“Fastred please, stop apologizing,” Eldarion told him. He rose and held out his hand. “It is alright. My dagger.”

About to hand it to him, Fastred stopped. Stepping back, he flipped the wooden training blade in a high arc, which Eldarion deftly caught. “It would be stupid to hand you a dagger within striking distance, after handing you the floor. Even a friend. Sorry.”

“That is exactly what you should have done,” Eldarion told him, sheathing his wooden dagger and drawing his wooden long and short swords. He glanced at Elanor. “And exactly what you should have said. Draw your sword.”

Smiling, Fastred unsheathed his wooden practice dagger. Just as with Elanor, it served as his sword. From a hidden pouch, he also pulled a metal thrusting dagger.

Thalia: …I’m fairly certain that I remember Tharkos telling me you shouldn’t spar with live steel, actually? Accidents do happen, after all…

“Where did you get that?” Eldarion asked, alarmed by the metal blade.

“I always keep hidden weapons,” Fastred answered.

“Since when?” Eldarion asked.

“Since yesterday,” Fastred replied.

Sonam: Hmm… sudden changes of personal habits, hitherto unexpected combat skills, even the people close to him think he’s changed… the evidence continues to grow!

Eldarion slapped his wooden blades under his arms and hurled his scabbards like daggers.

Fastred skillfully batted them aside. Lunging in their wake, Eldarion slammed the flats of his wooden long and short swords against Fastred’s shoulders.

Fastred stared at him in shock. He bowed. “The second and third points, are yours.”

The crowd of warriors around their pen had grown. It seemed to Elanor, everyone had taken a break from their training to watch. Many others had come, who didn’t normally train. “No enemy is immune from the element of surprise,” Eldarion said. Backing away, he walked in a wide circle. “As you so ably demonstrated. Thank you, for the reminder.”

“Are we sparring or are trying to train me?” Fastred asked. He walked around the circle, stalking the Prince and annoyed, having lost two points in front of Elanor.

Thalia: …both, I think? And possibly testing just how much your skills have improved since the ritual?

Eldarion lunged, swinging his wooden training blades. Fastred jumped back and parried, countering with his training and thrusting daggers, using the least amount of effort and most incisive skill. Moving nimbly on his feet, he displayed a remarkable prowess and a physical grace they’d never seen from him before.

Thalia: Now why would that be, I wonder?

“Very good, compensating for my height and strength while conserving yours. You are preventing me from ascertaining the true scope of your abilities,” Eldarion noted, as a distraction, before lunging again. “However, I am not giving you a choice!”

MG: If Fastred merges with Turin’s soul, unlocks his true potential, and goes Super Hobbit, I’m leaving.

Fastred also lunged, moving inside the arc of Eldarion’s blades. He expertly parried, driving Eldarion’s training sword into the ground. Blocking Eldarion’s short sword with his thrusting dagger, he stomped down on the side of the wooden longsword with the flat of his boot, breaking it. Pressing both his daggers against Eldarion’s femoral arteries, he pushed the Prince back against the gate. “Never engage an opponent at a disadvantage, your Highness.”

“Who then, would I have to spar with?” Eldarion asked, dropping the hilts of his broken wooden longsword and his short sword. He lifted his hands and nodded to Elanor. “The fourth and fifth points, and the match, are yours.”

Sonam: …of course they are. Why am I not surprised?

* * * * *

Prince Faramir of Ithilien entered the private meeting room with Elboron. He faced the grim and uncomfortable faces of Eldarion, Celendrian, the twins and his daughter Niphredil.

Thalia: …somehow, I am not looking forward to this…

“In Gondor and Arnor,” Eldarion told him. “Prince Elrohir needs the permission of King Elessar to become engaged to the woman he loves, and the woman to consent to the marriage. He does not need your permission. Nor does Princess Niphredil.”

MG: Considering we literally only just found out they were a thing partway through this very chapter, and now they’re already talking about marriage, does this seem a little rushed to anyone else? On top of the other things making it creepy, that is. How long have they even been seeing each other?

“However,” Celendrian said. “Niphredil does not wish to bar you from her future, and the King values your counsel. Therefore, he has agreed: you may ask a bride-price for the hand of your daughter in marriage to the Prince of Rivendell.”

MG: Hmmm, I wonder what Silmarillion story we’re about to reference…

Faramir regarded Celendrian warily. He didn’t need Elboron cautioning him that she had grown prodigiously during their trial by fire. Marshalling the kingdoms of the west, she had rallied the princes of the auxiliaries into a fighting force that had routed the armies of the Nine new Nazgûl Kings.

Sonam: In defiance of all logic and common sense… and is he aware of what that ring her mother gave her did to her mind, by chance?

Her efforts had saved Eldarion’s life and the lives of the people of the North Kingdoms. Elboron kept warning him that her confidence and command had grown commensurate with her deeds, but Faramir wasn’t blind: he could see all that for himself.

Thalia: *Faramir* Do you think the eyes of Emyn Arnen are blind? I have seen more than you know!

“You know I am against this betrothal,” he told her.

“You are here at the King’s request,” Celendrian noted. “To name your price. Nothing else. If you are impertinent, I will throw you into the stocks, friendship to the King – or not!”

MG: Faramir isn’t only the king’s friend. He’s also the Steward of Gondor, son and heir of the last Ruling Steward and the highest official after the monarch in the kingdom and he’s Prince of Ithilien, ruler of one of Gondor’s core provinces. Throwing him in the stocks to be publicly humiliated (that being the point of that kind of punishment…) seems very likely to start a godsdamned civil war. Is that really what we want to be doing right now, Celendrian?

Plot-Induced Stupidity: 193

Faramir composed himself. He had been fighting Nazgûl and running the Kingdoms long before she was born.

Sonam: That sounds familiar. Haven’t we seen this before?

“For the hand of my only daughter, so highly do I esteem her, and such a treasure is her love, I can demand nothing less than both the long lost Silmarilli.”

MG: Oh dear Eru. Polychron really is trying to turn Faramir into Thingol, isn’t he? One, why Faramir of all characters? It really does feel like Polychron just had a “domineering and overprotective father” role in mind and crammed Faramir into it, regardless of whether it fit his established character or not. For another, Faramir is a scholar; he ought to be very familiar with that story and how Thingol’s request not only failed to prevent Beren and Luthien’s marriage, but actually gaining the Silmaril ended very badly for Thingol himself (and indirectly set off thousands of years of elf-dwarf feuding, for that matter). And the Silmarils themselves were lost at the end of the First Age, more than six and a half thousand years ago! They belong more to legend than history now – this is a bit like a father in the real world demanding his prospective son-in-law recover, I don’t know, the Ark of the Covenant or the like! Not to mention that one of the two lost Silmarils is at the bottom of the sea, and the other inside a volcano (I know there’s the theory that the Arkenstone is that Silmaril, but I don’t really credit that one myself). So… yeesh. On the other hand, I think trying to keep Elrohir well away from Niphredil, or anyone else, is probably a good thing, so…

Bigger, Louder, More!: 111 (Faramir does Thingol one better, wanting not one but two Silmarili!)

A shocked silence filled the room. The greatest Quest recorded in the history of Middle- earth had been Eärendil’s search for a single Silmaril.

MG: Earendil? Earendil!? Polychron, how do you get this wrong? It was Beren and Luthien who went on the Quest of the Silmaril and recovered it! Earendil and Elwing had a Silmaril already (the very same one, Elwing being Beren and Luthien’s granddaughter), they were trying to find Valinor. How… how do you mix that up? It’s only arguably the foundational story of the entire Middle-earth mythos! Dear Eru…

Loremaster’s Headache: 540

Fëanor and his sons spent thousands of years embroiled in the most destructive vendetta since the Valar and Ainur first sang Arda into existence – relentlessly driven by their obsessive adherence to what was, quite frankly, a lunatic Oath to reclaim all three gems, no matter the cost. It cost not only their lives, but the lives of everyone who had died in the War of Wrath. And still, neither of the gems were ever found. For Faramir to now demand both – it was unthinkable.

MG: Okay, Polychron, you even botched this, too. For one, the history of the First Age from the theft of the Silmarils to the War of Wrath was measured in centuries, not millennia. For another, the War of Wrath was only the final movement of the larger conflict referred to as the Wars of Beleriand or the War of the Jewels. So you’re rather underselling the body count the Feanorians were responsible for (and don’t forget Morgoth! He killed lots of people too!). And, for that matter, all three Silmarili were recovered. Beren and Luthien took one, which was passed down to Earendil and Elwing, and was eventually taken up into the heavens by Earendil to become a new star. The other two were taken from Morgoth by Eonwe after the War of Wrath and stolen from him in turn by Maedhros and Maglor. Because of their crimes, the Silmarils burned them when they tried to hold them; to be free of the pain, Maedhros cast himself and his Silmaril into a fiery chasm, while Maglor threw his Silmaril into the ocean and, according to legend, still wanders Middle-earth singing laments for his grief. So yes, those two Silmarils were recovered by the Feanorians, and subsequently cast away by them and lost again (and it was foretold that the three Silmarili won’t be brought together again until the world ends). Just… just so we’re clear on this.

Loremaster’s Headache: 545

When she recovered herself, Celendrian was infuriated by his request. Reluctantly, Eldarion reminded her that Faramir was within his Rights.

MG: Little-known fact – the Gondorian Bill of Rights specifically codifies the right of the Steward to demand the retrieval of any and all magical gemstones which might occur to him to be carried out by his prospective son-in-law. It was added to the Gondorian law code by King Atanatar Alcarin, who may have been a bit tipsy at the time, but the law is the law. /s

They both knew that Elessar had long been planning expeditions to find the missing palantíri and Silmarilli.

Sonam: …I might think a king as wise as Elessar might conclude that letting the Silmarili lie where they are would be the more prudent course? And I suspect finding the remaining palantiri is less about locating them, and more about finding someone willing to go diving in the Bay of Forochel...

But the unfinished planning for those two campaigns began long before they became embroiled in this new and deadly war.

Elladan and Elrohir setting out to find them now, along with other princes and warriors, would spread many key fighters farther afield than the King wanted or could easily afford.

MG: …isn’t that what the Quest for the Holy Grail was “really” about in Mists of Avalon? The goddess scattering Arthur’s knights away from Camelot so it would fall? The madness is spreading!

Yet Elladan and Elrohir could not be persuaded to wait. This affront and challenge would be dealt with. Niphredil would be free to marry and these invaluable heirlooms (and measurably valuable tools for the war) would be recovered, now.

Thalia: Well, they’re certainly acting like the Feanorians, at least? I think the curse may be alive and well – hopefully they won’t resort to kinslaying, but with the twins, you can never quite be sure…

Plot-Induced Stupidity: 194

With their plans set, many more people came and went from Rivendell, including Pallando. He rode from the Palace of Anor on another of the Mearas, his steed Bluestar. He and Incánus added more lessons to the ones Alatar and Marcidelén were already teaching Elanor.

MG: Seriously, why does literally every wizard seem to get one of the Mearas in this thing? The Mearas are loyal to the House of Eorl; Shadowfax accepting Gandalf as his rider was a very big deal!

Sam asked Eldarion’s smiths to repair his mithril coat. Privately, he gave it and Sting to Elanor for her to keep. Adding Sting to Eket, she now effectively wielded both a long and short sword. Only Eldarion’s blade Ringil was more famous than her two blades.

Sonam: I think Anduril might have something to say about that… if swords could talk, that is… I suppose we should be glad that Fastred connecting with Turin didn’t also spontaneously manifest a reforged Gurthang for him, then?

In a secret ceremony attended by Fastred, Belethor, Calcarin, the wizards and the House of Telcontar, the twins summoned all the Ringbearers and certain key allies. There they set dazzling bright mithril and white diamond adorned timbarëmírë on the brows of Pallando, Incánus, Celendrian, Elboron, Elerith, Ælfwine, Manus, Malvia, Pingyang and Xiang.

Thalia: And Polychron remains more committed to everyone knowing how fancy they are more than anything else! *glances down at her own tattered grey robes* I don’t think he’d like me very much…

With the forges of Rivendell restored, Eldarion had Aeglos reforged for Elrohir.

MG: …just like that, apparently. Because we all need more stuff, am I right?

Alatar, Incánus and Pallando restored the spells Celebrimbor had infused on it. Eldarion also found Frodo’s broken Barrow-blade. It had been long preserved in a basement within the armory of Rivendell (after the water was pumped out). He had it reforged, too. With the help of the three wizards, it’s broken spells were also restored.

MG: Polychron, enough is enough! These people are going to be so weighed down with weapons and artifacts they’ll barely be able to move! Does literally every object of any significance need to find its way into your characters’ hands?

In a public and very well attended ceremony, he knighted Fastred and Calcarin. They were now battle-hardened and decorated warriors.

Sonam: And, because Calcarin was a subject of a foreign monarchy, naming him as a knight of Gondor – and therefore subject to its crown – caused an international incident.

He dressed them in the silver and black of the Royal Guards of the Palace of Anor, and set atop their heads, helms of solid mithril. He also presented Aeglos to Elrohir. For Fastred, he presented him with Frodo’s enchanted Barrow- blade, its original spells restored. Fastred now had two blades, serving as two longswords.

MG: *mildly* You know, I’ve always heard that the reason dual-wielding is uncommon in real life is that it takes a lot of time and effort to learn to fight that way, and the benefits you get from it are minimal enough it’s not really worth it. Sword and shield (or sword and dagger – ie, two blades of different length for different purposes) is more common. You really only see dual-wielding two blades of equal length in sport fighting, where “it looks really cool” actually is enough justification for it.

Eldarion called forth Elanor, Celendrian and the members of her Questing party. Elboron and the members of his Questing party were also called.

MG: The Questing Beast, with King Pellinore in hot pursuit, showed up entirely on its own and was just happy to be included.

They were going with the twins to find the palantíri and Silmarilli, with Xiang, Éodyn and Liathwyn. He summoned the members of his own Questing party, Ælfwine and Manus. They stood with Fastred, Calcarin and the others.

For each of them in turn, Eldarion hung about their shoulders grey Elven cloaks woven in Lothlorien, a gift from King Celeborn. He fastened each one in place with a dazzling bright solid-mithril ‘Star Of The Dúnedain’ brooch.

Thalia: *whispering* Would it be rude to say I liked this better the first time? Actually, I think this is mixing up two different scenes from the original book – leaving Rivendell, and getting gifts in Lorien. How confusing!

Before that, Belethor had always perched on Fastred’s right shoulder. Now, whenever he wore his cloak and mithril brooch, Belethor perched on his left. Rubbing it with his limbs and tail every chance he got, the dragon gazed at his own reflections in the gleaming true-silver.

Sonam: And one morning everyone woke up to find that Belethor was gone, and also they’d been stripped of all their treasures in the middle of the night. And that, fair friends, is why you probably shouldn’t travel with a dragon.

Elanor had to admit, Fastred looked very dashing in his new uniform and Elven cloak, pinned with his mithril brooch. He had become even more famous than she was and instantly recognizable with Belethor on his shoulder.

MG: …of course he had. And of course Polychron, like so many bad writers, mistakes wealth and fame for being worthy of honor in and of themselves…

The Unfair Sex: 167

Eldarion always seemed to be summoning him to secret meetings and councils to ensure they stayed secret. Elanor saw less and less of him.

They grew more distant.

MG: We know they end up together, you’re not fooling anyone!

For his part, Belethor was very fond of Elanor. He felt certain she and Fastred were meant to be together. This was no guarantee they would. He knew now, anything could happen.

MG: Okay, “a baby dragon playing matchmaker” is not something I was expecting from an LotR sequel, not going to lie.

Using all his dragonly wisdom,

MG: Which, based on Glaurung and Smaug, mostly consisted of nosing out people’s psychological weaknesses and deducing the precise monetary value of one’s treasure hoard…

he went to great lengths to mediate the growing rift. But despite the best intentions and the greatest of intellects, navigating the intricacies of the human heart lay beyond the power and mind of even the smartest dragons.

Thalia: Alas, that they do! *beat* But I don’t suppose Polychron could have actually shown us this as it happened?

* * * * *

Outside, it was night.

Sonam: Inside, it was high noon. We’re still trying to figure that part out.

Inside the cave, the eight companions who had come to Rivendell to rescue the Queen stood inside the entrance.

Sonam: So, they stood inside… inside. How… redundant?

It was hidden within a ravine behind the Palace of Elendil. Eldarion held the Orthanc-stone. Within it loomed the face of the High King Elessar.

Thalia: …should we tell Aragorn this is making him look rather like a terrifying eldritch tyrant, or let him figure it out on his own?

Before them, a staircase of six-sided stones rose to an open twelve-sided portal. On the other side, atop a twelve-sided platform in the Escherscape of Archany stood Genesis and Mytikas. Arrayed behind them were the other eleven Lords of the Dodecahedron.

“Why must you send Fastred on the only mission which will not pass through Euthyria?” Genesis asked Elessar. “The staircases of Archany are always moving. Without the beacon of his Túrin-stone, we cannot find Eldarion or the others, much less hear your call to bridge the barrier between our worlds and assist you.”

“We have no choice,” Elessar answered. “Only Fastred and his Turin-stone can find the lost Kingdom of Nimrodell.”

“Then I am sorry, King Elessar,” Genesis said. “As much as we would like, there is nothing we can do. The Stone-men of Zirakzigal cannot aid you against the Mad Vala Ulbandi.”

MG: In other words, after all the time wasted setting them up, they’re going to be no help at all. Figures.

* * * * *

Just before sunset, Elanor led Arwen past the sentry-guarded double doors. Together, they walked into the almost deserted Great Hall in the Palace of Elendil.

Sonam: So… has anyone asked Arwen what she thinks of the name change? She only lived here for almost her entire, centuries long, life… what am I saying, of course they didn’t.

Facing her before the Palantír stood her Elven brothers and royal children.

Thalia: Her common children were shoved to the back where they wouldn’t make their “betters” look bad – a sadly too-common tale!

They stepped aside and the two of them approached the Elendil-stone. It glowed with a rich warm light.

Elerith put her hands on the gleaming surface. Concentrating, she pushed the Eye farther and faster than Arwen had ever seen it move. Thanks to long practice, Elerith quickly drove it past the shores of Lindon. Sweeping out over Belegaer, it passed many islands. It flew over windswept leagues and across the open ocean, which only the Palantír of Elendil could cross.

Ahead of it, a great golden glow arose in the West.

It sped ever faster. Dark shadows rose from the waves and reached up into the sky, until they completely engulfed the Eye. For a while they could see nothing and Elanor wasn’t sure if the Eye was moving. Abruptly, light broke through the darkness. They Eye of the Palantír sped over the horizon and the shadows faded behind it. Before it, the golden glow grew brighter.

At long last, Arwen finally beheld the glowing shores of Tol Eressëa.

MG: Considering that the Two Trees are long destroyed at this point, I’m a bit unsure why the Blessed Realm – and Eressea in particular – is literally glowing.

“Come mother,” Eldarion whispered. He held out his hand. The Queen hesitated and began to tremble.

Celendrian took her hand. “It’s alright.”

Guided by her children, Arwen walked to the surface. Having crossed the edge of the fabled shores, the Eye of the Palantír rushed up to a beautiful country home. It passed colorful gardens full of deep red seregon, the white star-shaped lissuin, and varieties of golden simbelmynë. Slowing down along rows of long-legged, sweet-smelling aisles of tall aeglos shrubs, it drifted through the misty shadows beneath their branches.

MG: This would be rather more compelling if I didn’t think Polychron was just taking the opportunity to show off that he does indeed know the Sindarin names for various flowers (and simbelmyne in particular is strong associated with the Rohirrim, rather than the Blessed Realm, though Rohan isn’t the only place it glows…)

The Eye passed through the front door of the home and stopped. Recalling events of her youth, Galadriel sat in a large chair before a warm fire. There she entertained Elrond and Celebrían, laying arm-in-arm on the couch, with tales of Eldar days.

Thalia: Umm, Master Polychron? I think you mean “Elder,” not “Eldar.” And isn’t it rather convenient that the Palantir just happened upon this charming family scene?

“M- m-mother?” Arwen whispered. She reached out. Tears fell from her eyes.

“She can’t hear you,” Elerith said. “They’re not near another palantír.”

“We have to keep trying,” Elanor told her.

“We’re certain that eventually, we’ll find them when they are,” Celendrian said. “It’s just going to take a little time.”

Arwen hugged her family. As they huddled close and she felt their love, the terrible wound in her heart began to mend.

MG: This would be a lot more heartwarming if Polychron hadn’t gone out of his way to portray Arwen as a terrible person long before she got possessed, I have to say…

Elanor left them alone.

As Arwen watched the vision of Tol Eressëa fade, Elerith removed her hands from the palantír and they hugged, sharing gentle, happy tears. “Thank you.”

* * * * *


It was the cold hour before dawn, a week before Sam, Rosie and Arwen’s scheduled departure for Minas Tirith. Eldarion summoned Sam to a secret meeting in a private meeting room.

Thalia: And here we have yet another instance of the title being dropped! I suppose Polychron really did like it that much?

Fastred sat on one side of him (without Belethor) with Alatar on the other. Behind him stood Pallando and Incánus. Before him on the table were four golden Rings of Power and one of enchanted quicksilver. One bore a black Star Diopside gem. Another, a black Cat’s Eye Scapolite stone. The other three appeared to be free of any engraving or device. Sam knew enchanted runes had been engraved invisibly on both sides of the bands, on four of the Rings.

Rings-a-Palooza: 224

“In all of history, only Gil-galad and Elendil were entrusted with five Rings of Power,” Eldarion told him. He picked them up and laid each one in Sam’s hand. “No one is better suited to resist the compulsion of the evil spells on Sauron and Saruman’s Rings than you, Sam.”

MG: Oh, yeah, just because Sam resisted the One Ring once, let’s subject him to multiple evil rings constantly now; that’ll work wonders! Seriously, “resist” doesn’t mean “immune,” and you’ve now just subjected Sam to possibly years – or even decades – of mental torment. Hope you’re proud of yourself.

“I am honored to serve, your Majesty,” Sam said. He put the Rings in a small iron case and locked it. Hanging it on an iron chain around his neck, he tucked it under his shirt, once more a Ringbearer. “I will be true to your trust and faithfully perform my duties, your Highness.”

Sonam: …which are? We are we handing out rings again, exactly?

“Sam,” Eldarion said. “No one can know what you carry. Not Rosie. Not Elanor. Not even my sisters. But above all, not my mother Queen Arwen, who is going with you. No one.”

Thalia: Hmmm; after that heartwarming scene earlier, it appears Arwen’s children still don’t trust her. How… entirely expected, actually!

The Unfair Sex: 168

“I understand, your Highness,” Sam assured him. “I’ve seen firsthand the evil these spells can do, on friends and foes alike.”

Thalia: *Sam* Which is why I’m not at all upset about how you just decided out of the blue that I should bear these evil things again instead of sealing them up in a vault somewhere they can do no harm.

“By combining our power with the power of Fastred’s Túrin-stone,” Alatar told him, “we can ensorcell your Rings. No one will be able to sense them. But if you or your party are waylaid in the Wilds and there is any chance the Rings could fall into Enemy hands, you must put on the two untainted Rings and wield their power to defeat your foes.”

Sonam: Because “harnessing the powers of magic rings and using them to destroy your enemies” is what the original story was all about! *beat* Actually, I don’t think that was right…

“If your enemies overwhelm you and our allies,” Pallando added. “You must turn invisible and escape. Make your way back here or to Minas Tirith.”

Thalia: Use your rings to destroy your enemies and abandon your allies to certain death! I imagine Sam is now seriously reconsidering his role in this plan…

“If things become truly desperate,” Incánus told him, “and you have no other choice, you must put on the other Rings and add their power to the two you’ll already be wearing.”

Thalia: Don’t trust him, Samwise! I see right through this treacherous, perverted (I still remember he wanted to strip-search Arwen!) old wizard – he can’t fool me!

“How can I do that?” Sam asked, facing the assembled wizards. “I never learned how to use the power of the One, except to turn invisible.”

MG: And to understand the language of the orcs, to be fair. But yes, Sam, there is a good reason you didn’t want to learn to use the artifact of pure evil!

Alatar picked up Ómataina, Saruman’s Ring of Voices, Deceptions, Corruptions and Control. Incánus picked up Rávi, the Ring of Lions, the King of Beasts.

Pallando picked up Ingolë, the Ring of Quicksilver, White Magic, Journeys, Healing, Stealth, Silence, Sleep, Alchemy, Transformations and Transmutations, a very powerful Ring.

Sonam: If the power of a ring is measured by the length of its name, then it would have to be!

“This is what the three of us are here to teach you.”

Thalia: *Sam* Unfortunately, I don’t trust any of you and this sounds like a really bad deal for me, so in other words – I’m taking my family and going home. Good luck!

MG: And so, we come to the end of the chapter! This one – well, looking back as a whole, it feels very unfocused, basically just a series of random events that occur between the battle at “Glorfindell” and the upcoming final climax of the fic at Minas Tirith. Otherwise, there’s not a whole lot holding it all together, and frankly it badly undermines what tension and conflict the fic had going on. Time slows to a crawl so we can get all these “secret meetings” in, and while all that’s going on Rivendell was completely destroyed and then apparently completely rebuilt off-page, making the whole episode feel entirely pointless. The bad guys get namedropped a few times, but there barely seems to be any indication of them actually doing anything or that they offer a particular threat. And among our protagonists, quite a lot of the chapter is given over to Fastred’s rapid and inexplicable ascension to power and everyone fawning over how amazing he is (and his relationship with Elanor, which is hard to care about for reasons we’ve already been over). And of course, there’s the fact that everyone in the second half of this chapter seems determined to reenact the Sil for no good reason. There’s trying to summon the spirit of Turin to empower Fastred, which is pretty ridiculous on principle and worse in execution. But worse is the bizarre redux of Beren and Luthien played out with Elrohir and Niphredil, who suddenly and inexplicably become a couple this chapter (a couple I find gross and creepy, for various reasons) and then Faramir is bizarrely derailed to be cast in the role of Thingol, down to wanting not one but two Silmarili! The whole thing just leaves me scratching my head and wondering why Polychron thought any of it was a good idea. Which sums up quite a lot of the fic, honestly. There are also a couple of moments that are decent in a vacuum – Sam and Elanor, Arwen and her children and the Palantir – that unfortunately don’t land like they should because of the broader context of the fic.

Anyway, that’s all for now, folks! Next time, we come to the final chapter of FotK (but not quite the last sporking post) as Polychron proves he still has some curveballs left to throw at us. We’ll see you then! Our counts stand at:

Bigger, Louder, More!: 111

Expansion-Pack World: 73

Feel My Edge: 137

Happy Ending Override: 33

Linguistic Confusions: 60

Loremaster’s Headache: 545

Pervy Hobbit Fanciers: 89

Plot-Induced Stupidity: 194

Rings-a-Palooza: 224

Take That, Tolkien!: 60

Traveling at the Speed of Plot: 72

The Unfair Sex: 168

Comments

[ltzip]

That fic throw so much bullshit at us in these last chapters, between Thuringel and Ulbandi hentai boobs fight, Glorfindel unlocking The Omega Sanction, the Death that is Life(TM), and Middle-Earth Skynet, yet, somehow, what's take the cake for me was the Faramir one. Why, just, Why? I mean, that whole fic is just one big WHY? but still, why? The "penal envy" shit seem to imply he is attacted to his own daugther... Where are we, Berserk?!

The whole thing is a borderline Non Sequitur, and then the "quest" that had been brought by it... It seem Polychron doesn't want any artefact of legend to not be in the hands of his characters, at all.

[masterghandalf]

That fic throw so much bullshit at us in these last chapters, between Thuringel and Ulbandi hentai boobs fight, Glorfindel unlocking The Omega Sanction, the Death that is Life(TM), and Middle-Earth Skynet, yet, somehow, what's take the cake for me was the Faramir one. Why, just, Why? I mean, that whole fic is just one big WHY? but still, why? The "penal envy" shit seem to imply he is attacted to his own daugther... Where are we, Berserk?!


I get the feeling, so very much. Faramir-as-Thingol (and the incestuous implications didn't even occur to me... gods) may not be the strangest objectively speaking, but it's still just... what? And why?

The whole thing is a borderline Non Sequitur, and then the "quest" that had been brought by it... It seem Polychron doesn't want any artefact of legend to not be in the hands of his characters, at all.


And next chapter, despite being the last, still has some curveballs to throw at us, believe me.