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masterghandalfThis is a repost from Das_sporking2. Previous installments of this sporking may be found here.
MG: And so, everyone, the time has come to begin our journey into the strange and scary world of Demetrious Polychron’s Fellowship of the King! Today, we have some small matters to take care of first, and then it’s time to dive into the fic’s prologue! Now, as I alluded to in the intro post, the prologue and first chapter aren’t that terrible, in the grand scheme of things (it’s once Alatar starts infodumping in chapter two that things really start to go off the rails…) but from the start we’re going to get some hints of just where this story is going to be headed… and you all are not prepared. But before we get into the meat of things, let’s meet the sporkers who’ll be accompanying us for the day!
*three figures materialize in the sporking chamber; the first is a tall elf woman of indeterminate age and athletic build; she wears a simple tunic, breeches and cloak in various shades of green, and has green eyes, black hair worn in a long braid, and tan skin. The second is a muscular half-orc man in late middle age; he is bald and has a grey beard and greenish-grey skin, wears simple clothing of the sort that might be worn under heavy armor, and has a large and heavy sword – he carries himself with a weary dignity. The third is a rather scrawny tiefling girl in her late teens; she sits hunched forward, wrapped in dark, tattered robes, and has slate-grey skin, ragged, shoulder-length black hair, and gold eyes that carry an unmistakable impression of someone who knows things*
MG: Care to introduce yourselves, everyone?
Elf: My name is Kasanari; I am a druid of the forest of Innenotdar, and I was a teacher and sage of my people… until the day the forest caught fire, decades ago, and in all the time since it has never stopped burning. “*her eyes take on a haunted look* There are few of us elves of Innenotdar left, and we are all refugees now – and recently, I somehow found myself the leader of a crew of ragged rebels trying to stop our home continent from tearing itself apart by war. From which I’ve been rudely pulled… to do a running commentary of a piece of bad literature? *she looks baffled* Well, if this is what the Four require of me… I shall strive to be reasonable and logical, and hopefully bring a little dignity to this… process…
Half-Orc: I am Tharkos. Once, I was a soldier in the service of Emperor Coaltongue, the man who, a century ago, took my people from a collection of scattered tribes and forged us into the greatest empire the world had ever seen. I served loyally… and then the Emperor died and the Inquisitors took over, and decided they… no longer required my services. *he snorts disdainfully* They turned the Empire into something I no longer recognized… or maybe they only showed the world what it had always been, deep down. I’m apparently here because our host *he nods at MG* thinks this story handles military matters and the rise and reign of “evil” empires rather poorly. And also *he growls* has certain… questionable plotlines involving those of mixed orcish blood. Well, I come from a proud line of orc and human warriors, and this… Polychron… person shall soon learn not to insult that heritage lightly.
Tiefling: *looking around in confusion* Oh, I… what? Where are we? Oh, yes, that is today, when we were to start this… I’d thought it might be tomorrow… or maybe last week… My name is Thalia. I’m an orphan, or I was, and I grew up in the city of Gate Pass where I met… something. I don’t really remember that part… and now… now I see. I see a world gone mad, chaos consuming it, driving towards an abyss beyond comprehension from which none shall escape… oh, that’s this story we’re going to be talking about, isn’t it? There’s also a war on back home, but that’s not why I’m here… I don’t think… this is a very confusing situation we’re all in, but… *she sighs* I’ve gotten used to it. *beat* Oh, I think Kasanari and Tharkos still need to introduce themselves! *she notices everyone looking at her, and sighs again* That… already happened, didn’t it? Bother…
MG: Well, thank you all for your introductions, we’ll be meeting a couple more of your comrades before too long, hopefully! I’ve given you all some basic knowledge of the original LotR canon and access to this *gestures at their laptop, open to a search engine* if you need more, so I think we’re ready to get going! First off, we have the cover! It’s… not the worst thing in the world, and there actually are dragons in this fic, so it’s not exactly inaccurate. Still, it’s about as generic a fantasy cover as they come. On to the fic itself! To begin with, we have… a poem! And let’s reproduce it in full before we tear it apart line by line, shall we?
All that is precious is not cherished
But love that is true will not fail
Not all the forgotten have perished
The ones who believe will prevail
Those tempered by fire do not burn
Yet not all broken hearts can be mended
Not all who were lost will return
But these Unfinished Tales will be ended
If not courage nor hope are relinquished
Great deeds will not go unrenowned
The Fallen will finally be vanquished
The Rings that were lost shall be found
Kasanari: …that… that… is very bad poetry, no? It feels like it was squashed into the rhythm of some other poem, and it only barely fits at that…
Thalia: Hmmm; it might be more of a prophecy than a poem… But if so, it feels both… too straightforward and not precise enough, I think? It really needs more riddles to be respectable, something that can be solved, or give us a headache trying to solve it…
MG: More to the point, it’s clearly a riff on “All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter” from LotR. But, you know… that was a poem about Aragorn, written by someone who knew him, and it all made sense in the context of his life. This one is pretty much just a bunch of vague platitudes that doesn’t have much to do with anything, except for a few bits that are too on the nose. So, let’s dig a bit deeper! Giving our first point for Polychron’s clear attempt to write a new, longer rip-off of “All That is Gold Does Not Glitter”:
Bigger, Louder, More!: 1
All that is precious is not cherished
But love that is true will not fail
Tharkos: *snorts disdainfully* I am a soldier, not a poet or a sage, but it seems to me that if something is precious, it is by definition cherished. Perhaps those words mean different things in Middle-earth than in Ragesia, but I somehow doubt this author is that clever.
Kasanari: And sadly, I have lived long enough to see love fail or turn sour, true or no. Unless the poet means that only love that doesn’t fail is true… in which case, I must sadly disagree.
Not all the forgotten have perished
The ones who believe will prevail
MG: Gah, now I’m just getting flashbacks to the original My Little Unicorn and how the characters were always yammering on about “believing” without ever making it quite clear who or what they were supposed to be believing in…
Thalia: And of course, not everyone who is forgotten have perished! Some of us just drift along, like flotsam on a river, waiting for someone to find us, or not… and in fact, not all of those who perish have perished! That is not dead which can forever lie… *she giggles cheerfully; Kasanari and Tharkos share a concerned look*
Those tempered by fire do not burn
Yet not all broken hearts can be mended
Not all who were lost will return
But these Unfinished Tales will be ended
Kasanari: I think… all of that is rather obvious? Though I’m not sure if the part about not all broken hearts being mended, and the earlier comment about true love not failing go together well, unless the latter is specifically about false love…
MG: Also, wait a minute, Polychron. Unfinished Tales is a set of Middle-earth stories and essays (essentially a prototype for the later History of Middle-earth series that traced Tolkien’s worldbuilding and creative process across his whole life) published posthumously, which take their name from the fact that they’re, well, unfinished. While this fic does incorporate (and does very strange things with parts of) the UT, the Unfinished Tales are not a thing that exists in-universe. Maybe Polychron’s just making the reference… but then, it is capitalized as a proper noun.
Loremaster’s Headache: 1
If not courage nor hope are relinquished
Great deeds will not go unrenowned
Tharkos: Oh, and are you like my ancestors from before the Empire, for whom fame and glory are the measures of a person’s worth? I believe that the work Polychron is allegedly writing a sequel to has some things to say about valor without renown… perhaps he should check it again?
The Fallen will finally be vanquished
The Rings that were lost shall be found
Thalia: Beg pardon, but weren’t the Rings of Power rendered… powerless after the destruction of the One? Perhaps our nameless prophet merely has a refined taste in jewelry? That would be underwhelming, though…
MG: “The Fallen” could be a reference to Morgoth, or possibly to one of several villains from FotK itself (in-universe, “the Downfallen” usually means Numenor, but that doesn’t seem to be the case here)… we’ll never know, as the fic series never got that far. As for “The Rings that were lost” *laughs knowingly* Oh, you all have no idea…
Rings-a-Palooza: 1
MG: Well, this poem is now done… but fair warning, it’s not the last time Polychron will be inflicting his poetry on us. Next up, we have our dedication.
Dedicated to the life and work of John Ruel Ronald Tolkien and his son Christopher Tolkien
If not for you, this would not be
Kasanari: Wasn’t that the original author of Lord of the Rings and his son? The one whose Estate would ultimately lead to Polychron’s legal downfall for his presumption? In that context… my, my, an interesting choice, isn’t it…
Thalia: Hmmm; fate is indeed whimsical at times, isn’t she? Though when tempted in such a manner, perhaps she simply couldn’t resist… sometimes, fate is also unkind…
MG: And considering I’m quite sure that large portions of this fic would have the good Professor (and Christopher, who is dead now as well, perhaps even more so) turning in his grave… yeah. Interesting choice on Polychron’s part to dedicate the fic to the people whose copyright you’re violating and whose estate you ended up suing, and who in turn ended up handing your ass to you in court, to be sure… We also get an epigraph from Fellowship of the Ring itself.
EDIT: And it must bear noting - because my eyes somehow slipped over it before this, presumably because my brain corrected it automatically without my realizing it - but he got Tolkien's name wrong by flipping the order of his middle names around! And I guess he somehow just never noticed this at any stage of the proceedings, because it never got corrected! Wow, Polychron. Just... just wow. Is there really anything more that can be said about that?
“Don’t adventures ever have an end? I suppose not. Someone else always has to carry on the story.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
MG: Which… yeah, that conveys the general idea of doing a next gen LotR sequel, fair enough. But still… takes some gall, all things considered. Anyway, with the dedication and epigraph done, the pleasantries are now out of the way (bizarrely, the prologue is before the table of contents, a curious formatting choice I didn’t think merited repeating for the sporking itself!) and we can now move on to the actual meat of Fellowship of the King, starting with the prologue!
Prologue
Elanor Gardner, daughter of Samwise and Rosie Gamgee Gardner, was excited at the prospect of her upcoming two-and-twentieth party.
Kasanari: Well, it starts innocuously enough, at least…
Tharkos: *folding his arms* Perhaps a bit too innocuously! I certainly hope, should my story ever be told, it does not start with any accounts of my own youthful foolishness. Besides, everyone knows that proper sagas begin with a recounting of the great deeds of the hero’s ancestors, going back generations, to properly set the mood (and to give everyone who was out getting ale or snacks time to get properly seated, though that usually goes unmentioned).
For tween girls in the Shire, nothing short of a wedding was as exciting as the twenty-first anniversary of their birth.
Thalia: …I am starting to think that Polychron might just be hinting that Elanor is almost twenty-two. It’s subtle, but I think it’s there…
This marked the beginning of their two-and-twentieth year
Thalia: …if only Polychron gave us some way to be certain of her age…
MG: *valiantly resists making a “Dick Grayson, Age Twelve” joke*
when they officially became ‘eligible,’ to be courted by the young, and sometimes not so young ardent and hopeful bachelors, of which there suddenly seemed an almost endless supply.
MG: Okay, time out here. It’s hobbit customs time, people! Hobbits (who are somewhat, though not hugely so, longer-lived on average than Men) come of age at thirty-three. This is spelled out repeatedly and explicitly in the very first chapter of LotR because that’s how old Frodo is at the time. Now, Frodo’s a dude, and it’s never explicitly said that hobbit men and women both come of age at thirty-three… but based on the genealogies Tolkien gives us, we can deduce that most of our hobbit characters’ mothers would have been in their thirties or forties when they had them, which suggests to me that hobbit women do in fact come of age and are considered marriageable at the same time as their menfolk. Polychron, for whatever reason, has decided to push this back to twenty-two. I’m not sure why (aside from maybe trying to force hobbits into a more humanlike aging scheme) but my mind can’t keep from thinking that Elanor is significantly underage. Pippin in LotR almost didn’t get to go with the Fellowship because Elrond thought he was too young – and Pippin was twenty-nine, seven years older than Elanor is now! Hobbits in their twenties (“tweens,” so Polychron got the term right, at least) are pretty clearly the equivalent of humans in their teens. So I can’t help but feel like all these “young and not so young ardent and hopeful bachelors” are drooling over the equivalent of a thirteen or fourteen year old girl. Blegh. I think it’s just as likely that Polychron is being sloppy as he is being a deliberate creep (though there are some of the later developments in the fic to consider…) but even so. Blegh.
Pervy Hobbit Fanciers: 2
They were coming not only from Hobbiton, Bucklebury and Tuckborough, and every other corner of the Four Farthings, some said hobbits were traveling to Bag End from as far as distant Bree.
Kasanari: *looking at a map, spotting Bree right next to the Shire, raising an eyebrow*
MG: Well, to be fair, as of LotR the Shire hobbits were pretty insular; Bree is about the farthest place from home as they’d likely ever go, and even then, not very often. So, writing from a Shire perspective, “distant” works. On the other hand, some of the stuff Polychron has done to Middle-earth make it a bit more… questionable as a description.
All this undoubtedly on account of the Great Year of 1436.
MG: Okay, this may be nitpicking, but a yen, or Great Year, is an elvish unit of time, equivalent to 144 solar years. …yeah, needless to say, people who aren’t immortal (like, say, hobbits…) don’t use or need this measure of time. It’s probably just a coincidence, but it still amuses me that Polychron may have accidentally vastly inflated this fic’s timescale!
That was when the High King Elessar of the United Kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor, Queen Arwen, the princesses Celendrian and her sisters met HMS Samwise, his wife the inimitable Rosie, their seven children; the Thain Peregrin Took, ruler of Tookland, his wife Diamond and their son Faramir; the Master Meriadoc Brandybuck, ruler of Buckland, his wife Estella, sons Théoden and Boromir, and daughters Priscilla and Esmerelda; and many other hobbits of note. They came together and assembled for a magnificent ceremony held at the Brandywine Bridge.
Tharkos: Ah, perhaps this is where we shall have a listing of names and great deeds, as per the tradition! At least, I can only assume so, for we have a great many names and titles, but thus far very little in the way of deeds.
MG: To Polychron’s credit, this is in fact correct – Aragorn and his entourage did visit the Shire in the year 1436 by Shire Reckoning. On the other hand… other things get a bit dicier. Starting with the least problematic, the only one of Aragorn and Arwen’s children to be canonically named is their eldest son, Eldarion. “Celendrian” is the name Polychron gives one of their daughters, who is to be a fairly major character in the second half of the fic. She’s clearly named for her maternal grandmother, Celebrian, though I don’t believe the prefix “Celend” actually means anything in Sindarin. Merry’s kids are also not named in canon, though the names Polychron gives them are at least plausible (though naming not one but two sons after dead heroes of the War of the Ring seems a bit excessive). And again, this may be nitpicky, but the Thain isn’t the ruler of the Tookland, the Thain is the (mostly ceremonial) monarch of the entire Shire. “Tookland” is just the name for the region around Tuckborough and the Great Smials where most of the Tooks live, not a formal political division (there apparently used to be a lot of those “folklands” around the Shire where large extended families settled, though by the time of LotR most families no longer live only in their folklands). Buckland, being described in LotR as a sort of “colony” from the Shire proper between the Brandywine River and the Old Forest, is a bit of a different beast, and not a “folkland” despite its name.
Also… it’ll be confirmed before too long that “HMS” stands for “Honorable Mayor of the Shire,” but I can’t help but read it as the name of a ship instead. Which just makes me imagine Aragorn, trying to honor Sam, naming a ship after him – and Sam being utterly befuddled because he lives in a landlocked country, he hates boats and ships, and what on Earth would he do with the thing, anyway?
Linguistic Confusion: 1
Loremaster’s Headache: 2
It was the grandest event any living hobbit could remember!
Kasanari: The Great Beer Fest of 1300, which passed from living memory when Bilbo left the Shire, on the other hand, was best not spoken of in such august company.
The King affirmed his previous proclamations: all the realms inhabited by Hobbits were Free Lands under the protection of the Northern Scepter. HMS Samwise, the Thain and Master were his personally appointed Counsellors. Men were forbidden to enter, except by permission of the King and his Counselors of the North Kingdoms, or their duly appointed Deputies.
Thalia: I would make certain the two proclamations were the same… you should always be careful with such things. You never know what things are waiting, ever watchful, and might slink in through the loopholes…
The High Queen Arwen, born of the immortal Elves, had forsaken her immortality to marry her love Aragorn, as Elessar then was known. A wise and elegant woman, she was rivaled in beauty only by Elanor, whom she made an honorary Handmaiden. Elanor became great friends with the royal princesses, especially Princess Celendrian, closest to her in age.
Thalia: …which is why we’re only hearing of it secondhand? Unless Celendrian and Elanor merely declared themselves to be great friends and it became so, without all the messy work of making friends… if only it were that easy… *she sighs wearily*
MG: Also, in canon Elanor was made a Maid of Honor to the Queen, and it’s never said the position was strictly ceremonial… I wonder if Polychron (accidentally?) gave Elanor a wee bit of a demotion…
But for Elanor, the capstone of the festivities came when Elessar draped her father’s well- traveled grey Elvish cloak about his shoulders and fastened it in place with a dazzling bright brooch called, ‘The Star Of The Dúnedain.’
Tharkos: As is the proper reaction to seeing one’s father honored by his sovereign for his heroic deeds!
Rumor had it the clasp had been crafted by the Dwarves of Erabor and was made entirely of mithril. That alone would have made Sam the richest hobbit in the Shire, if he hadn’t been already. It was quite the honor for the High King to be recognizing hobbits and their contributions to the free the people of Middle-earth during the great War Of The Ring.
Kasnari: Perhaps it would have been a greater honor if it had been the dwarves of Erebor who made the clasp, and not a misspelled group of pretenders? And I must say, Aragorn and Samwise were friends and traveling companions, is it really such a surprise that Aragorn is honoring him and his people?
Loremaster’s Headache: 3 (“Erabor?”)
After the festival Elessar, his family, their guests and a large crew of Gondorians traveled a hundred miles north to the source of the Brandywine River, Lake Evendim. It was bordered on the north by the Emyn Uial: The Twilight Hills of Eriador. There they commenced rebuilding the ancient city of Annúminas, once long ago and now again, the capital of the Kingdom of Arnor.
News may be slow to get around in these parts, but what’s come around’s been around, if you catch my meaning.
Thalia: *looking faintly worried* No, no I don’t!
After that Tookland, Buckland and the Four Farthings were never quite the same sleepy places people remembered from before the Great War.
MG: *muttering* Tookland is part of the Westfarthing, it’s not a separate territory… And I can’t help but imagine that having the peace of the Shire so rudely uprooted isn’t something Tolkien would have considered a particularly happy ending, though it’s hardly the fic’s worst offense on that front.
It should be expected. After all, when the High King of Middle-earth comes a-calling bringing princely gifts and honoring so many of your own, people are bound to notice.
Tharkos: *looking at a map* The narrator oversteps themselves. The territories of Arnor and Gondor combined appear to be quite impressive, but Aragorn was hardly the High King of all Middle-earth! Even the great Coaltongue would never have made so expansive a boast in my own world. And I believe much of the territory he claimed on paper would have been thinly inhabited at best…
MG: Yeah, and especially once we start getting into the freaking huge territories some of Polychron’s villains rule, claiming Aragorn is the High King of the entire continent is a bit rich.
Loremaster’s Headache: 4
The sixteen-year-old Crown Prince Eldarion Telcontar had stayed behind in Gondor. He lived in the Palace of Anor in Minas Tirith, ruling as Regent.
Tharkos: What. The entire point of a regency is to prevent underaged whelps with no experience from actually ruling, not to make said whelps the regent themselves!
Kasanari: And I thought the residence of Gondor’s rulers was the Citadel in Minas Tirith?
MG: It is. The Palace of Anor is something else. And, well… we’ll talk about that when Polychron gets to it, because it’s a doozy.
Guided by Prince Faramir of Ithilien, Elessar’s Steward and principal Counselor,
Tharkos: Then he should have been the regent, with Eldarion as his observer and student!
Eldarion studied the languages and histories of his subjects from ancient scrolls, and some said, being tutored by wise Men and High Elves in the Arts of falconry, philosophy and warfare, and the ancient Lore of the Rings.
Kasanari: While I certainly would consider falconry a fine activity for a young man of royal birth – teaching him to rely on and care for another creature is valuable, as is giving him a connection to the natural world and its creatures – the fact that it is listed first makes me think that Polychron considers it the most vital skill of kingship. That is… curious.
MG: And just wait until we get to what Polychron’s idea of the “lore of the Rings” entails…
Thalia: That was remarkably ominous. Perhaps it should have been accompanied by a crash of thunder…
So it was clear to everyone that Elanor was a catch.
Tharkos: …I have absolutely no idea why Prince Eldarion’s studies makes a girl half a continent away who he has quite possibly never met a “catch!”
Kasanari: …I think it’s just poorly worded?
Thalia: Perhaps Elanor is somehow absorbing everything Eldarion is learning, through arts of which it is wise to not speak aloud, and it’s making her more desirable? This may merit further investigation…
Besides her father being decorated for his accomplishments by the High King and she herself being honored by the High Queen, Elanor was the most beautiful hobbit anyone had ever seen!
Thalia: Aha! Elanor is also becoming more beautiful as her father is honored! I think she really is absorbing the energies of people around her – but is she doing it on purpose, or is she herself a victim of yet more sinister purposes?
She lived with her family at the top of the Hill in Bag End. Its seemingly endless tunnels were rumored to be stuffed with treasure, and some said, ill-gotten gains from three generations of particularly adventuresome hobbits.
First, Bilbo went off with a company of Dwarves. Rumors persist to this day that they fought and killed a dragon, as unlikely as it sounds.
MG: Actually, in the earliest drafts of The Hobbit, Bilbo apparently did kill Smaug (by stabbing him in his bare patch with Sting); Bard was added later. So these nameless hobbit rumormongers may be more right than they realize…
Yet in light of later events, folks were no longer so quick to discount outlandish tales. Less credible sources claim they returned with their backs bent under war trophies, including the heads of trolls, enough magical items to start an entire school for wizards, and bags of treasure carried by more than three hundred Dwarves.
Kasanari: I understand that tales grow in the telling, but even so, this seems excessive.
Tharkos: Yes, this would be impressive trophies for a victorious army, much less one halfing! One must wonder if the bards think they’ll be paid more if they inflate the amount of treasure in their stories to absurd degrees…
Years later, Bilbo mysteriously vanished at his own birthday party, an event still talked about and debated in these parts. Seventeen years after that, Frodo left to have his own extraordinary adventures with Sam, coming back even richer.
MG: …because when I think of The Lord of the Rings, I think of triumphant returns home with tremendous wealth. Yeah, Polychron, Frodo’s journey in LotR is explicitly not the sort of “there and back again” adventure Bilbo had in The Hobbit, and the few treasures he and Sam brought back with them were of a more personal nature. I can see rumor inflating it, but they didn’t really come back “richer” the way Bilbo did!
Shortly after the birth of Elanor, when she was still Sam and Rosie’s only child, Frodo himself vanished on his final adventure with Sam. The two of them had traveled all the way west to the ocean. There they were met by the ancient Kings and Queens of Elves. Sam witnessed them leaving Middle-earth forever on a white ship, departing from the Havens and sailing West over the sea.
MG: …that may be the single driest summary of that even I’ve ever read. *sigh* I wish I was listening to “Into the West” instead…
Returning home, he and Rosie were left holding the keys to Bag End. This did not sit well with the renewed consternation of many a Baggins kin. None more so than the many Sackville and Bracegirdle cousins of the now extinguished Sackville-Baggins branch of the Baggins family tree.
Kasanari: *checking* And here I thought Lobelia actually made a point of ending the feud with Frodo and Bilbo’s side of the family before she died. Clearly, I was mistaken!
Happy-Ending Override: 1
The ever-regretful Lobelia and her son Lotho Sackville-Baggins had once acquired the surrounding land and coveted hole in a true and legal sale. It was that dark time years before when Frodo and Sam had been forced to flee the Shire pursued by Black Riders.
Merry and Pippin had joined them fighting in the Great War. The four of them endured torture and monstrous trials while adventuring through the kingdoms of Eriador, Eregion, Khazad-dûm, Lothlórien, Rohan, Fangorn, Gondor, Ithilien and Mordor.
MG: Eregion, a “kingdom” that hasn’t existed for millennia as of LotR and was a desolate wilderness when the hobbits passed through it? Or Eriador, the huge region which contains multiple nations, including the Shire itself? Fangorn, where the fact that the ents are apparently a unified nation now instead of a loose collection of individuals is sure to come as a real shock to Treebeard? Ithilien, which is a province of Gondor, as we already went over endlessly in the TLR sporking? I don’t think Polychron knows what a kingdom is any more than Yeskov seemed to…
Loremaster’s Headache: 5
While they were gone, half-Orc Southrons and Ruffians invaded their homelands, conquering the Shire and making her people slaves in all but name. Yet thanks to the return of HMS Samwise, Frodo Baggins, the Thain Peregrin Took and the Master Meriadoc, the courage of their people was re-ignited. Leading the very flower of formidable and steadfast hobbitry, the four Travelers (as they then were known) raised the people of the Shire against their enemies.
Tharkos: *growls angrily* I will not stand by idly as a gang of bandits and mercenaries are treated as if they represent my entire race, halflings!
Kasanari: …Remember, Tharkos, this is a different world, and these aren’t your people… I know, I know, it’s the principle of the thing…
MG: Also… “Southrons” is another name for the Haradrim. Sharkey’s Men were a mix of relatively local bandits and toughs like Bill Ferny, and seemingly some of the more humanlike products of Saruman’s breeding experiments. I’m not sure exactly what the human side of their heritage was… but since Dunland was under Isengard’s influence and Dunlendings fought for Saruman in his campaign in Rohan, I’m going to go out on a limb and say “mostly Dunlending.” Completely different people from the Haradrim.
Loremaster’s Headache: 6
The half-Orc Southrons and Ruffians were routed at the Battle of Bywater in 1419.
When Lobelia was freed from her prison, she learned Lotho had been murdered asleep in his bed at Bag End.
MG: Technically, we don’t know when and how Wormtongue killed Lotho. Saruman does imply that Wormtongue ate Lotho’s corpse (at Saruman’s own orders) so… yeah, maybe Lobelia was better off not knowing that part.
So she sold it back to Frodo in a ruinously dilapidated state, which would have cost a good-sized fortune to repair, for just a little more than what she paid (plus interest).
A plaque on the site of the battle commemorated the names of everyone who’d fought in the liberation of their homeland, except Lotho.
MG: I mean, Lotho didn’t actually fight in the liberation, considering he was not only a Quisling but had come down with a minor case of being dead already, so… fair enough.
Many believed it was him who’d let the Ruffians come in the first place.
Thalia: An easy deduction to make, considering Lotho hired the Ruffians to begin with, they openly worked for him, and only took over from him in their own right later! Unless it was all just a clever diversion, and the true mastermind was… Ted Sandyman all along! The fiend!
The Shire was finally freed from the evil wizard Saruman.
It was a tale with which to astonish children – except that every word of it was true!
Kasanari: *muttering* Give or take a handful of words…
It was once considered peculiar for a hobbit to leave the Shire. But these historic events inspired the younger generation. This fueled their ambitions to one day embark on the Road and undertake long and dangerous journeys of their own (few actually did so).
Tharkos: I can only imagine; if they still think that their neighboring country is “distant,” I can’t think many of them would have ambition to make it farther afield than that!
They yearned to travel to unknown lands and become part of the histories of kings, queens, wizards, dragons, elves and a multitude of nefarious Beasts.
Thalia: Ah, nefarious Beasts! Be wary of them, young halflings, for those Beasts will get ahold of you and turn you inside out until you don’t even know who you are anymore… *beat* Why is “Beasts” capitalized, anyway?
MG: No idea. Though Polychron has some… interesting takes on Middle-earth’s various intelligent animals which we’ll eventually see.
Thalia: I await it with both excitement and dread!
After performing heroic deeds, they vowed to return with much treasure and retire to a life of fame and leisure.
Except for Elanor.
Though genuinely enjoying the friendship of the Princess Celendrian and her sisters, the thought of unseen vistas in distant lands sounded unappealing.
MG: Okay, on the one hand, I can kind of see what Polychron is going for here with trying to create a heroine who stands out among her peers because she’s content with her life and doesn’t dream of adventure (but adventure finds her anyway) but at the same time… a hobbit homebody with no desire to leave the Shire gets (spoilers!) pulled into adventure by a wizard? Never seen that before *rolls eyes*. And it’s not like Elanor’s desire to stay at home and live a peaceful life is ever going to be that important, anyway.
She already had most everything a young hobbit could wish for: a loving family, great friends, and the prospects for a prosperous and happy future. The last thing in the world she wanted was to leave it all behind for strange people and foreign places.
Kasanari: I can sympathize, but sometimes, leaving home is inevitable. Frodo and your father left the Shire with Ringwraiths on their tail, if you will recall. Or, in my case, I left my home because it was (and remains) on fire. Life is not always a great respecter of people’s desires.
She didn’t even want to imagine riding on treacherous roads (although her father had been sure to teach her how to ride), much less walking.
Tharkos: She makes it sound as though walking is more difficult than riding. Less convenient, perhaps, but in most places I could name, it is riding that is considered the greater means of transport.
Or worse, running in fear for her life. It not only sounded depressingly dangerous, it would have deprived her of the friendly faces and many comforts of home.
Kasanari: And also, potentially, of your life. You are aware of what running for your life means, don’t you?
Elessar returned to Gondor after he and his men spent a year rebuilding the city of Annúminas. It now stood even grander than it had of old.
MG: What. Seriously, what. Aragorn managed to rebuild Annuminas – a large, elaborate city – in a year. Not only that, he made it better than it was back when it was the capital of Arnor? Just… how? Does Polychron realize how big a city is and how long it takes to build one? And where did Aragorn get the people? The Dunedain of the North are a rather small, scattered people – even if he gathered them all together and plunked them down in one place (and that’s assuming they all wanted to settle at Annuminas and not in Gondor, or to rebuild Fornost or one of the other old Arnorian cities), it still doesn’t seem like it would be enough to populate such a large city! And this is far from the last time Polychron will have this problem – we’ll find that there’s been massive urbanization and population explosion going on all across Middle-earth, and no real indication of how it’s happening or where all the people are coming from!
Thalia: …I do not think I want to know where and how the resources to build and people a large city in a single year came from, and can only recommend visitors to not attempt to make sense of the architecture or its geometry, lest they be subject to unpleasant revelations…
Expansion-Pack World: 1 (again, where is everyone coming from?)
Traveling At the Speed of Plot: 1 (or building, in this case…)
During that year, Arwen and Rosie had both delivered babies and things became more hectic. In the following six years, her parents had three more children. Now her mother had recently announced, she was once again pregnant.
As happy as Elanor was at the prospects of her parent’s adding yet another child to their large happy family, she wondered if maybe – enough was enough.
She already had eleven brothers and sisters. She didn’t understand their need to keep adding more. She loved everyone in her family, but the tunnels of Bag End were not as endless as outsiders believed.
MG: Okay, part of me thinks this is a decent touch for humanizing (hobbit-izing?) Elanor – on the other hand, large families do seem to be the norm for hobbits (it’s explicitly noted that there’s usually a few hundred Brandybucks hanging around Brandy Hall at any given time, though the Brandybucks, being such a large and wealthy family, are probably outlier, while Bilbo and Frodo, as lifelong bachelors, were both unusual) so I’m not quite sure how well it fits culturally.
When she was little and had only two or three siblings, their halls had still seemed spacious. When her grandfather the Gaffer died, her father added his hole to their own, bought the others, and rechristened the entire Hill the sole property and extended estate of Bag End.
MG: What. Just… am I the only one who thinks buying the entire neighborhood of the Hill – a significant chunk of the town of Hobbiton – turning out everyone else who lives there (albeit presumably with compensation) and converting the whole thing into his family estates seems a wee bit out of character for humble, practical Sam? Just a bit?
Elanor had proudly welcomed Queen Arwen and the royal princesses to the many newly- connected and well-appointed holes in their extensive and now lavish home.
Kasanari: I was under the impression that Bag End was already quite lavish and well-appointed, by local standards. And I cannot help but feel that this focus on material wealth is a mistake, and fear this is not the last we’ll see of it…
MG: It’s not, trust me.
But after adding so many more children and with the prospects of yet another, even with all the additions, things were beginning to feel a bit cramped.
To make matters worse prospective suitors, anticipating the intense competition that would invariably ensue after Elanor’s two-and-twentieth, and opting to forgo the adventuring part and skip right to the treasures and Bag End, had decided to get a jump on the competition.
Tharkos: *folding his arms in disapproval* And so do these strangers simply assume that they can show up from nowhere to court the Mayor’s daughter before she is even eligible, having done nothing to prove their worth? I can only assume they failed miserably, and deservedly so.
Pervy Hobbit Fanciers: 3
Many had already come calling. Knocking on Bag End’s large round door, they came unannounced in ill-fitting, overly formal clothes and sweat stained faces.
Kasanari: Charming. I have a sneaking suspicion that Polychron wishes us to think ill of these people… whoever they may be.
Thalia: *looks down at her own ragged robes, as if trying to decide whether this would be better or worse*
Invariably they brought inappropriate and ridiculously over-expensive gifts.
MG: No fewer than five of them showed up with what they assured Elanor was the one and only genuine Arkenstone. Needless to say, nobody was amused, least of all the company of traveling dwarven merchants staying at the Green Dragon when they heard about it...
None of them pleased her and she didn’t take any of their offers of courtship very seriously.
Kasanari: I should hope not, considering how young she is! These men should be ashamed of themselves… and not because their clothes don’t fit!
Pervy Hobbit Fanciers: 4
It got so bothersome, her father set a permanent guard at the bottom of the path leading up the Hill to their door.
MG: It was times like this that Sam regretted buying the whole Hill, since it meant his guard had a lot more ground to cover. Still, the old “No Admittance Except on Party Business” sign he inherited from Bilbo and Frodo worked wonders.
That was fine with Elanor.
She still felt much too young to begin courting the ne’er do wells of the Four Farthings,
much less marrying and leaving her family.
Tharkos: I suppose the more respectable hobbits were waiting for her to reach a more respectable age, at least? Though considering her complaints about the size of her family, one might think that moving out would have a certain appeal.
Pervy Hobbit Fanciers: 5
There was still a great deal of work to do on the Red Book. And there wasn’t a hill, hole or house in any of the lands she’d visited, nor any she’d heard tales of, holding the least bit of attraction to her more than Bag End already did.
Thalia: And how many lands, pray tell, has she visited? Unless poor Elanor is cursed and living backwards, so her lack of desire for adventure is because she has already had – or will have it, but remembers! – her fair share of it!
Though once when she was still quite young, her father had taken the entire family on the most wonderful vacation! They traveled west past the Far Downs and chanced on another hobbit family traveling west, the Greenholms. The head of the clan was a respectable old hobbit named Folcred, who everyone called Ed.
MG: Okay, so canonically, Fastred was the name of the hobbit who Elanor actually would end up marrying (so all the other suitors are out of luck already!). But the appendices call him Fastred of Greenholm, not “Fastred Greenholm”; Greenholm seems to have been the town he was from, not his family name. Fastred and Elanor’s descendants were the Fairbairns, but that’s a name they took after Elanor (and in honor of her). So… not terrible, but still worth noting.
Loremaster’s Headache: 7
Both he and his wife Ewartia, who everyone called Alice,
Kasanari: *confused* Why? How do you get “Alice” from “Ewartia?” And if you don’t… where did “Alice” come from in the first place?
MG: “Ewartia” is a real-world genus of plants native to New Zealand. And, okay, considering the tendency of hobbit women to have flower names, and New Zealand being where the Jackson movies were filmed… that’s actually kind of clever, Polychron (though it doesn’t explain where and how the hobbits got the name “Ewartia” from…). On the other hand, that still doesn’t explain “Alice.”
had impressed her parents with their knowledge of ship craft and navigation.
MG: Especially considering that, with the exception of the Bucklanders, most hobbits hate boats and ships, and Sam (apart from his fascination with the elves and their sailing West, which is a very particular thing) is no exception! And the Shire, once again, is landlocked! Not sure “impressed” is quite the right word for how Sam and Rosie would likely react. “Confused,” maybe.
They were teaching these to their children, especially their oldest son Fastred. Elanor had been impressed with Fastred too, but they were much too young to think of each other as anything other than friends.
Thalia: But I doubt it will stay that way for long… ah, young love!
When they reached the Elvish Kingdom of Lindon, it was the Greenholm’s turn to be impressed. The Elven ruler Lord Círdan welcomed them to East Mithlond. It was the southern harbor of the twin Elvish towns, the Grey Havens. They sat on opposite shores in the Gulf of Lune at the river mouth. Círdan held a lavish feast in her father’s honor calling him Ringbearer.
Tharkos: Should it not be South Mithlond, then? Bah, typical elvish nonsense, naming things incorrectly for no reason but to confuse honest folk.
The next day Círdan’s chief advisor, the Elven Lord Galdor of the Trees & Havens,
MG: Galdor is a canonical character, but his only role is minor, where he appears as Cirdan’s messenger at the Council of Elrond. There’s no indication he’s “Lord of the Trees and Havens” or this important in Cirdan’s household (though there’s nothing to contradict it either, admittedly) but as we’ll see, Polychron has a thing for giving characters impressive titles (and making them kings of queens when they weren’t in the source material, a trait he curiously shares with Yeskov)
gave them a tour of the palace and harbor. Among the many wonders, Elanor had been most impressed by two magnificent statues.
The one at the palace had been sculpted by the red-haired Elvish sculptress, Lady Drendelen. She lived in Rivendell and was the finest sculptor in Middle-earth. Her grandmother the Lady Nerdanel lived across the ocean in Valinor. She was the widow of the legendary Elvish smith and master craftsman Lord Fëanor and the finest sculptor in all of Arda.
MG: That’s Nerdanel who is Feanor’s widow, not Drendelen, just for the confusing wording. Drendelen is one of Polychron’s OCs; canonically, so far as we can tell, Celebrimbor was Feanor’s only grandchild (I suppose Nerdanel could have remarried or had an affair and Drendelen descends from that and not from Feanor, but that seems highly unlikely considering what we know of elves in general and Nerdanel in particular). For my peace of mind, since we never do learn exactly how she fits into the Feanorian genealogy, I’m going to headcanon Drendelen as Celebrimbor’s twin sister, since that seems to muck up the family tree the least, and move on. “Drendelen,” as far as I can tell, is meaningless… but it is almost an anagram of her grandmother’s name, so there’s that. *headdesk* We’ll be hearing more about her as the fic goes on, and eventually we’ll meet her; Polychron seems to like her.
Linguistic Confusions: 2
Loremaster’s Headache: 7
Drendelen’s sculpture depicted the ancient Elvish High King Gil-galad wielding his enchanted spear Aeglos (presumably against orcs).
Kasanari: No! I’d have thought he was using it as a harpoon for fishing! Silly me!
The look of fury on the statue’s face, the tension in the marble arms and the frozen-in-time perception of Gil-galad’s arms slinging his mighty war spear forward – were breathtaking.
At the harbor was another statue, a masterwork of Lady Nerdanel’s. It had been sculpted in Valinor and shipped to Númenor by the Eldar, the Elves of Tol Eressëa. It was among their most precious gifts to the Edain, the wisest and strongest Men in Middle-earth.
Many of Nerdanel’s statues had been brought from Númenor by Elendil the Mariner, the first High King of the Númenórean Kingdoms in Exile. He and his sons Isildur and Anárion founded the kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor after their island continent sank beneath the sea.
MG: I mean, all of that is true, except for the bit about Nerdanel’s statues, since I don’t believe it’s ever been confirmed if any of them ever made it back to Middle-earth… but I do have to chuckle darkly at imagining the Faithful, desperately preparing to flee Numenor in their small fleet just before the Downfall, taking the time to carefully load and safely pack a number of large, presumably heavy statues. I can understand the desire to preserve great art, but still – priorities, people!
Nerdanel’s statue depicted the legendary Elvish Captain, Lord Eärendil. With his cloak billowing, he stepped onto the prow of his ship holding the dazzling gem known as the Silmaril, one of three forged by Fëanor. Eärendil was returning it to Valinor to beg for the aid of the Valar against Morgoth, the evil Dark Lord destroying Middle-earth and enslaving her people.
Thalia: That is perhaps the most bland description of great evil I have ever heard! *she smiles unsettlingly* Come, Polychron, let us talk together… I have dreamed of horrors, let me describe them to you!
MG: *glancing at her, then shifting quietly away* Moving on, I do kind of have to quibble about the description of Earendil as an “Elvish Captain.” Earendil was actually a half-elf (a rarity in Middle-earth), the son of the human hero Tuor and the elvish princess Idril Celebrindal. After reaching Valinor, he and his wife Elwing (also half-elven, the granddaughter of Beren and Luthien) were given the choice of which kindred to belong to, as were their children; Elwing, who chose first, chose to be an elf, and Earendil did so as well for her sake, but the narrative specifically notes that his heart always laid more with Men. Earendil’s son Elros chose mortality and became the first king of Numenor (Elros’ brother, Elrond, chose immortality) and the Sil is pretty clear that the Numenoreans, at least, never really considered Earendil an elf and instead saw him as the first and forebear of their own people. Now, elves might well consider the matter differently, but even so, calling Earendil an “elf” without qualifications seems a little off.
The Valar agreed to help and returned with him, waging the terrible War of Wrath.
Empowering Eärendil to pilot his ship through the skies, there he slew the giant father-of-all- dragons, Ancalagon the Black and achieved the victory.
MG: Whoops! Ancalagon was the greatest of all dragons, but the father of dragons was Glaurung! Ding, ding!
Loremaster’s Headache: 8 (for forcibly combining Ancalagon and Glaurung)
As a reward for his heroism, the Valar set him, his ship and his Silmaril high in the sky as the brightest star in all the Heavens.
MG: And we’ve got the order of events here wrong, too! Earendil, his ship and the Silmaril were set in the sky as a star after his voyage, as a reward for his journey and winning the Valar’s aid, and as a sign to Middle-earth that help was coming. He later descended from the sky to do battle with Ancalagon, and subsequently returned to his post, now standing watch against the possible return of Morgoth from the void.
Loremaster’s Headache: 9
Galdor explained that Nerdanel was considered the greatest sculptor who ever lived, because the balance and forms of her compositions were perfection. Not even Drendelen had captured the majesty of her subjects the way her grandmother had. Nerdanel’s statues were flawless idealized visions. She achieved what no artist ever had – she had captured the ideal.
Kasanari: *checking* Actually, according to what I’ve just read, Nerdanel’s statues were remarkable because they were so lifelike those who didn’t know any better might think they were real! Real people are not so dramatically idealized, so one would presume Nerdanel’s sculptures weren’t, either.
Though no less skillful, Drendelen’s statues were full of flaws. They were not mistakes she made while sculpting, the imperfections were on the people and things she modeled.
Tharkos: *snorts* That seems less like a flaw, and more like a deliberate choice. Just because something is different does not make it wrong. Something others might care to learn.
Galdor pointed out the sweat on Gil-galad’s face, blemishes and scars on his skin, dents and rents in his armor, stray hairs on his head, and loose marble threads hanging from his marble clothes. Some argued the flaws were Drendelen’s: they didn’t belong in representations. Who would make gifts of cracked gems, dented rings or paintings marred by misplaced brushstrokes?
Thalia: Well, “cracked gems, dented rings or paintings marred by misplaced brushstrokes” are all things that are themselves broken. Drendelen made an artistic choice to represent the brokenness of her subjects, a very different thing! But then, there is beauty in lost and broken things…
Others disagreed. They claimed Drendelen had never made an error, just as her grandmother hadn’t: the imperfections deserved to be represented because they were real.
Tharkos: Tell me, is there any reason why we are having this digression about people’s differing taste in art instead of moving on with the plot?
MG: Well, mostly to set up Drendelen and make sure we totally know Polychron’s OC is just as awesome as Arda’s canonical greatest sculptor, we swear!
Tharkos: *sigh*
Near the end of his tour, Galdor took them to the westernmost and tallest of three white citadels: The Tower of Elostirion. Rising high atop a hill, it looked far out over the sea.
MG: Impressive, considering the Tower Hills and Elostirion aren’t actually in the Grey Havens! Galdor must have made his guests hike a bit…
Traveling at the Speed of Plot: 2
Slowly, they climbed the long winding staircase until they reached the large chamber at the very top. They saw it was filled with art, gold, jewels, books and other Elvish riches. The walls were lined with display cases bearing ancient heirlooms and secret treasures.
Kasanari: Unless the treasures in the display cases are dummies meant to distract viewers from the actual treasures, then objects on display in a public place aren’t exactly secret, are they?
Elanor found two statues on opposite sides of the chamber particularly striking.
Nerdanel’s depicted Lord Fëanor rising from his workbench. In his left hand he lifted the first of his three dazzling gems, the Silmarilli.
MG: Considering how badly Nerdanel and Feanor’s marriage ended, and how the Silmarilli ultimately ruined their family and lead to the death of Feanor himself and all but one of their sons (assuming Maglor is still out there somewhere; if he died at some point between the Sil and LotR, then that’s all their sons)… yeah, this feels like a subject that would be a teensy bit uncomfortable for Nerdanel to sculpt. Maybe that’s why she ended up giving it away…
Drendelen’s statue showed Fëanor’s grandson, the Elvish master craftsman Lord Celebrimbor. Once the King of Harlindon and Eregion, he raised his hammer high over his anvil. Within the tongs in his other hand he was forging one of his many Rings of Power.
MG: *sigh* Okay, one, Harlindon is just the half of Lindon that’s north of the Gulf of Lune, it’s not a separate country and doesn’t have its own king. Two, Celebrimbor was never king of Harlindon; Celeborn briefly ruled the elves of northern Lindon before moving to Eregion with Galadriel, but he’s a totally different person! And, though Celebrimbor was the ruler of Eregion, AFAIK he never called himself king, he was just a lord and the master of the guild of jewel smiths. Also, do note the reference to Celebrimbor’s “many” Rings of Power, because we’ll be coming back to that…
Loremaster’s Headache: 11
Galdor pointed out the large roped-off empty white-marble pillar in the middle of the room. It had once held a palantír, or ‘Seeing Stone.’ There were seven that had been brought by Elendil from Númenor, from among the many Fëanor had forged in Valinor.
In this very chamber Elendil himself, who was called the ‘The Fair’ just as Elanor was, when facing West, could look into the palantír and see all the way across the ocean. There, he beheld the rulers of Valinor: Manwë and Varda themselves, sitting on their elevated thrones within the Palace of Ilmarin atop the peak of Amon Uilos, the highest mountain in all of Arda.
Thalia: Never have I seen a less interesting description of someone being given a glimpse of the divine. This bodes ill for the rest of the story…
MG: And I’ll note that while Elendil was known as “the Fair,” it was only one of his many epithets (the most common being “the Tall”). And Elanor was called “the Fair” because of her bright golden hair, a rarity among hobbits; considering Elendil was a Numenorean, who are almost always dark haired with no indication he was unusual in that regard (and we know Aragorn was said to resemble his ancestor greatly in both appearance and temperament, and he’s canonically dark haired)… he probably wasn’t called that name for the same reason.
Elanor was dazzled.
MG: Gah! Who let Edward Cullen into the story! Then again, we already had a random Alice…
Not just by the treasures and visions described by Galdor, but by a sudden kinship, completely unfounded she knew, she couldn’t help feeling for the High King Elendil.
Her brothers and sisters laughed at her.
Tharkos: It may seem harsh, but she did just claim affinity with one of the greatest historical leaders in her world for no particularly compelling reason. I can imagine her siblings were… unimpressed.
But Fastred said he too felt a kinship with Elendil the Mariner, and this strange and beautiful land. Fastred confided that secretly, he longed one day to live somewhere as fair as these green hills, so he could sail across the ocean, just as Elendil had.
MG: Well, the good news is that Fastred and Elanor did end up canonically settling near the Tower Hills after they got married, so at least he knows what he wants out of life and is already planning ahead for it?
Of all the fair people Elanor ever met and all the wonderful things she ever did, it was this magic summer in childhood with Fastred in the West of Middle-earth among the Elves that she most fondly remembered, and to which secretly, she longed one day to return.
Thalia: All the foul people she ever met, meanwhile, were mortally offended to be excluded and even now plotted their inevitable revenge…
MG: And, spoilers, Elanor never does get to return to the Grey Havens or the Tower Hills in this fic! Whether she ever would have had the series continued… the world may never know. Regardless, on that note, the prologue comes to a close.
Thus far, the fic is… not great, but not really overtly terrible either. The writing is often awkward and pretty painfully bland and boring (reminds me of Yeskov a bit… and Lionheart…), I don’t think Polychron has really thought through a lot of his use of time, date, distance and population (and I certainly hope he didn’t realize just how underage by the standards of her own people he’d written Elanor…), and he makes some baffling lore errors from the Sil for someone who will later be making some pretty deep cuts into Unfinished Tales and the History of Middle-earth. But it at least does what it sets out to do in terms of introducing Elanor, recapping LotR and establishing the basic state of things after the War of the Ring. Alas, before long it’s going to be getting much worse, very fast. Next time, Master Samwise receives a visitor. We’ll see you then! Our counts stand at:
Expansion-Pack World: 1
Happy Ending Override: 1
Linguistic Confusions: 2
Loremaster’s Headache: 11
Pervy Hobbit Fanciers: 5
Rings-a-Palooza: 2
Traveling at the Speed of Plot: 2
MG: And so, everyone, the time has come to begin our journey into the strange and scary world of Demetrious Polychron’s Fellowship of the King! Today, we have some small matters to take care of first, and then it’s time to dive into the fic’s prologue! Now, as I alluded to in the intro post, the prologue and first chapter aren’t that terrible, in the grand scheme of things (it’s once Alatar starts infodumping in chapter two that things really start to go off the rails…) but from the start we’re going to get some hints of just where this story is going to be headed… and you all are not prepared. But before we get into the meat of things, let’s meet the sporkers who’ll be accompanying us for the day!
*three figures materialize in the sporking chamber; the first is a tall elf woman of indeterminate age and athletic build; she wears a simple tunic, breeches and cloak in various shades of green, and has green eyes, black hair worn in a long braid, and tan skin. The second is a muscular half-orc man in late middle age; he is bald and has a grey beard and greenish-grey skin, wears simple clothing of the sort that might be worn under heavy armor, and has a large and heavy sword – he carries himself with a weary dignity. The third is a rather scrawny tiefling girl in her late teens; she sits hunched forward, wrapped in dark, tattered robes, and has slate-grey skin, ragged, shoulder-length black hair, and gold eyes that carry an unmistakable impression of someone who knows things*
MG: Care to introduce yourselves, everyone?
Elf: My name is Kasanari; I am a druid of the forest of Innenotdar, and I was a teacher and sage of my people… until the day the forest caught fire, decades ago, and in all the time since it has never stopped burning. “*her eyes take on a haunted look* There are few of us elves of Innenotdar left, and we are all refugees now – and recently, I somehow found myself the leader of a crew of ragged rebels trying to stop our home continent from tearing itself apart by war. From which I’ve been rudely pulled… to do a running commentary of a piece of bad literature? *she looks baffled* Well, if this is what the Four require of me… I shall strive to be reasonable and logical, and hopefully bring a little dignity to this… process…
Half-Orc: I am Tharkos. Once, I was a soldier in the service of Emperor Coaltongue, the man who, a century ago, took my people from a collection of scattered tribes and forged us into the greatest empire the world had ever seen. I served loyally… and then the Emperor died and the Inquisitors took over, and decided they… no longer required my services. *he snorts disdainfully* They turned the Empire into something I no longer recognized… or maybe they only showed the world what it had always been, deep down. I’m apparently here because our host *he nods at MG* thinks this story handles military matters and the rise and reign of “evil” empires rather poorly. And also *he growls* has certain… questionable plotlines involving those of mixed orcish blood. Well, I come from a proud line of orc and human warriors, and this… Polychron… person shall soon learn not to insult that heritage lightly.
Tiefling: *looking around in confusion* Oh, I… what? Where are we? Oh, yes, that is today, when we were to start this… I’d thought it might be tomorrow… or maybe last week… My name is Thalia. I’m an orphan, or I was, and I grew up in the city of Gate Pass where I met… something. I don’t really remember that part… and now… now I see. I see a world gone mad, chaos consuming it, driving towards an abyss beyond comprehension from which none shall escape… oh, that’s this story we’re going to be talking about, isn’t it? There’s also a war on back home, but that’s not why I’m here… I don’t think… this is a very confusing situation we’re all in, but… *she sighs* I’ve gotten used to it. *beat* Oh, I think Kasanari and Tharkos still need to introduce themselves! *she notices everyone looking at her, and sighs again* That… already happened, didn’t it? Bother…
MG: Well, thank you all for your introductions, we’ll be meeting a couple more of your comrades before too long, hopefully! I’ve given you all some basic knowledge of the original LotR canon and access to this *gestures at their laptop, open to a search engine* if you need more, so I think we’re ready to get going! First off, we have the cover! It’s… not the worst thing in the world, and there actually are dragons in this fic, so it’s not exactly inaccurate. Still, it’s about as generic a fantasy cover as they come. On to the fic itself! To begin with, we have… a poem! And let’s reproduce it in full before we tear it apart line by line, shall we?
All that is precious is not cherished
But love that is true will not fail
Not all the forgotten have perished
The ones who believe will prevail
Those tempered by fire do not burn
Yet not all broken hearts can be mended
Not all who were lost will return
But these Unfinished Tales will be ended
If not courage nor hope are relinquished
Great deeds will not go unrenowned
The Fallen will finally be vanquished
The Rings that were lost shall be found
Kasanari: …that… that… is very bad poetry, no? It feels like it was squashed into the rhythm of some other poem, and it only barely fits at that…
Thalia: Hmmm; it might be more of a prophecy than a poem… But if so, it feels both… too straightforward and not precise enough, I think? It really needs more riddles to be respectable, something that can be solved, or give us a headache trying to solve it…
MG: More to the point, it’s clearly a riff on “All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter” from LotR. But, you know… that was a poem about Aragorn, written by someone who knew him, and it all made sense in the context of his life. This one is pretty much just a bunch of vague platitudes that doesn’t have much to do with anything, except for a few bits that are too on the nose. So, let’s dig a bit deeper! Giving our first point for Polychron’s clear attempt to write a new, longer rip-off of “All That is Gold Does Not Glitter”:
Bigger, Louder, More!: 1
All that is precious is not cherished
But love that is true will not fail
Tharkos: *snorts disdainfully* I am a soldier, not a poet or a sage, but it seems to me that if something is precious, it is by definition cherished. Perhaps those words mean different things in Middle-earth than in Ragesia, but I somehow doubt this author is that clever.
Kasanari: And sadly, I have lived long enough to see love fail or turn sour, true or no. Unless the poet means that only love that doesn’t fail is true… in which case, I must sadly disagree.
Not all the forgotten have perished
The ones who believe will prevail
MG: Gah, now I’m just getting flashbacks to the original My Little Unicorn and how the characters were always yammering on about “believing” without ever making it quite clear who or what they were supposed to be believing in…
Thalia: And of course, not everyone who is forgotten have perished! Some of us just drift along, like flotsam on a river, waiting for someone to find us, or not… and in fact, not all of those who perish have perished! That is not dead which can forever lie… *she giggles cheerfully; Kasanari and Tharkos share a concerned look*
Those tempered by fire do not burn
Yet not all broken hearts can be mended
Not all who were lost will return
But these Unfinished Tales will be ended
Kasanari: I think… all of that is rather obvious? Though I’m not sure if the part about not all broken hearts being mended, and the earlier comment about true love not failing go together well, unless the latter is specifically about false love…
MG: Also, wait a minute, Polychron. Unfinished Tales is a set of Middle-earth stories and essays (essentially a prototype for the later History of Middle-earth series that traced Tolkien’s worldbuilding and creative process across his whole life) published posthumously, which take their name from the fact that they’re, well, unfinished. While this fic does incorporate (and does very strange things with parts of) the UT, the Unfinished Tales are not a thing that exists in-universe. Maybe Polychron’s just making the reference… but then, it is capitalized as a proper noun.
Loremaster’s Headache: 1
If not courage nor hope are relinquished
Great deeds will not go unrenowned
Tharkos: Oh, and are you like my ancestors from before the Empire, for whom fame and glory are the measures of a person’s worth? I believe that the work Polychron is allegedly writing a sequel to has some things to say about valor without renown… perhaps he should check it again?
The Fallen will finally be vanquished
The Rings that were lost shall be found
Thalia: Beg pardon, but weren’t the Rings of Power rendered… powerless after the destruction of the One? Perhaps our nameless prophet merely has a refined taste in jewelry? That would be underwhelming, though…
MG: “The Fallen” could be a reference to Morgoth, or possibly to one of several villains from FotK itself (in-universe, “the Downfallen” usually means Numenor, but that doesn’t seem to be the case here)… we’ll never know, as the fic series never got that far. As for “The Rings that were lost” *laughs knowingly* Oh, you all have no idea…
Rings-a-Palooza: 1
MG: Well, this poem is now done… but fair warning, it’s not the last time Polychron will be inflicting his poetry on us. Next up, we have our dedication.
Dedicated to the life and work of John Ruel Ronald Tolkien and his son Christopher Tolkien
If not for you, this would not be
Kasanari: Wasn’t that the original author of Lord of the Rings and his son? The one whose Estate would ultimately lead to Polychron’s legal downfall for his presumption? In that context… my, my, an interesting choice, isn’t it…
Thalia: Hmmm; fate is indeed whimsical at times, isn’t she? Though when tempted in such a manner, perhaps she simply couldn’t resist… sometimes, fate is also unkind…
MG: And considering I’m quite sure that large portions of this fic would have the good Professor (and Christopher, who is dead now as well, perhaps even more so) turning in his grave… yeah. Interesting choice on Polychron’s part to dedicate the fic to the people whose copyright you’re violating and whose estate you ended up suing, and who in turn ended up handing your ass to you in court, to be sure… We also get an epigraph from Fellowship of the Ring itself.
EDIT: And it must bear noting - because my eyes somehow slipped over it before this, presumably because my brain corrected it automatically without my realizing it - but he got Tolkien's name wrong by flipping the order of his middle names around! And I guess he somehow just never noticed this at any stage of the proceedings, because it never got corrected! Wow, Polychron. Just... just wow. Is there really anything more that can be said about that?
“Don’t adventures ever have an end? I suppose not. Someone else always has to carry on the story.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
MG: Which… yeah, that conveys the general idea of doing a next gen LotR sequel, fair enough. But still… takes some gall, all things considered. Anyway, with the dedication and epigraph done, the pleasantries are now out of the way (bizarrely, the prologue is before the table of contents, a curious formatting choice I didn’t think merited repeating for the sporking itself!) and we can now move on to the actual meat of Fellowship of the King, starting with the prologue!
Prologue
Elanor Gardner, daughter of Samwise and Rosie Gamgee Gardner, was excited at the prospect of her upcoming two-and-twentieth party.
Kasanari: Well, it starts innocuously enough, at least…
Tharkos: *folding his arms* Perhaps a bit too innocuously! I certainly hope, should my story ever be told, it does not start with any accounts of my own youthful foolishness. Besides, everyone knows that proper sagas begin with a recounting of the great deeds of the hero’s ancestors, going back generations, to properly set the mood (and to give everyone who was out getting ale or snacks time to get properly seated, though that usually goes unmentioned).
For tween girls in the Shire, nothing short of a wedding was as exciting as the twenty-first anniversary of their birth.
Thalia: …I am starting to think that Polychron might just be hinting that Elanor is almost twenty-two. It’s subtle, but I think it’s there…
This marked the beginning of their two-and-twentieth year
Thalia: …if only Polychron gave us some way to be certain of her age…
MG: *valiantly resists making a “Dick Grayson, Age Twelve” joke*
when they officially became ‘eligible,’ to be courted by the young, and sometimes not so young ardent and hopeful bachelors, of which there suddenly seemed an almost endless supply.
MG: Okay, time out here. It’s hobbit customs time, people! Hobbits (who are somewhat, though not hugely so, longer-lived on average than Men) come of age at thirty-three. This is spelled out repeatedly and explicitly in the very first chapter of LotR because that’s how old Frodo is at the time. Now, Frodo’s a dude, and it’s never explicitly said that hobbit men and women both come of age at thirty-three… but based on the genealogies Tolkien gives us, we can deduce that most of our hobbit characters’ mothers would have been in their thirties or forties when they had them, which suggests to me that hobbit women do in fact come of age and are considered marriageable at the same time as their menfolk. Polychron, for whatever reason, has decided to push this back to twenty-two. I’m not sure why (aside from maybe trying to force hobbits into a more humanlike aging scheme) but my mind can’t keep from thinking that Elanor is significantly underage. Pippin in LotR almost didn’t get to go with the Fellowship because Elrond thought he was too young – and Pippin was twenty-nine, seven years older than Elanor is now! Hobbits in their twenties (“tweens,” so Polychron got the term right, at least) are pretty clearly the equivalent of humans in their teens. So I can’t help but feel like all these “young and not so young ardent and hopeful bachelors” are drooling over the equivalent of a thirteen or fourteen year old girl. Blegh. I think it’s just as likely that Polychron is being sloppy as he is being a deliberate creep (though there are some of the later developments in the fic to consider…) but even so. Blegh.
Pervy Hobbit Fanciers: 2
They were coming not only from Hobbiton, Bucklebury and Tuckborough, and every other corner of the Four Farthings, some said hobbits were traveling to Bag End from as far as distant Bree.
Kasanari: *looking at a map, spotting Bree right next to the Shire, raising an eyebrow*
MG: Well, to be fair, as of LotR the Shire hobbits were pretty insular; Bree is about the farthest place from home as they’d likely ever go, and even then, not very often. So, writing from a Shire perspective, “distant” works. On the other hand, some of the stuff Polychron has done to Middle-earth make it a bit more… questionable as a description.
All this undoubtedly on account of the Great Year of 1436.
MG: Okay, this may be nitpicking, but a yen, or Great Year, is an elvish unit of time, equivalent to 144 solar years. …yeah, needless to say, people who aren’t immortal (like, say, hobbits…) don’t use or need this measure of time. It’s probably just a coincidence, but it still amuses me that Polychron may have accidentally vastly inflated this fic’s timescale!
That was when the High King Elessar of the United Kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor, Queen Arwen, the princesses Celendrian and her sisters met HMS Samwise, his wife the inimitable Rosie, their seven children; the Thain Peregrin Took, ruler of Tookland, his wife Diamond and their son Faramir; the Master Meriadoc Brandybuck, ruler of Buckland, his wife Estella, sons Théoden and Boromir, and daughters Priscilla and Esmerelda; and many other hobbits of note. They came together and assembled for a magnificent ceremony held at the Brandywine Bridge.
Tharkos: Ah, perhaps this is where we shall have a listing of names and great deeds, as per the tradition! At least, I can only assume so, for we have a great many names and titles, but thus far very little in the way of deeds.
MG: To Polychron’s credit, this is in fact correct – Aragorn and his entourage did visit the Shire in the year 1436 by Shire Reckoning. On the other hand… other things get a bit dicier. Starting with the least problematic, the only one of Aragorn and Arwen’s children to be canonically named is their eldest son, Eldarion. “Celendrian” is the name Polychron gives one of their daughters, who is to be a fairly major character in the second half of the fic. She’s clearly named for her maternal grandmother, Celebrian, though I don’t believe the prefix “Celend” actually means anything in Sindarin. Merry’s kids are also not named in canon, though the names Polychron gives them are at least plausible (though naming not one but two sons after dead heroes of the War of the Ring seems a bit excessive). And again, this may be nitpicky, but the Thain isn’t the ruler of the Tookland, the Thain is the (mostly ceremonial) monarch of the entire Shire. “Tookland” is just the name for the region around Tuckborough and the Great Smials where most of the Tooks live, not a formal political division (there apparently used to be a lot of those “folklands” around the Shire where large extended families settled, though by the time of LotR most families no longer live only in their folklands). Buckland, being described in LotR as a sort of “colony” from the Shire proper between the Brandywine River and the Old Forest, is a bit of a different beast, and not a “folkland” despite its name.
Also… it’ll be confirmed before too long that “HMS” stands for “Honorable Mayor of the Shire,” but I can’t help but read it as the name of a ship instead. Which just makes me imagine Aragorn, trying to honor Sam, naming a ship after him – and Sam being utterly befuddled because he lives in a landlocked country, he hates boats and ships, and what on Earth would he do with the thing, anyway?
Linguistic Confusion: 1
Loremaster’s Headache: 2
It was the grandest event any living hobbit could remember!
Kasanari: The Great Beer Fest of 1300, which passed from living memory when Bilbo left the Shire, on the other hand, was best not spoken of in such august company.
The King affirmed his previous proclamations: all the realms inhabited by Hobbits were Free Lands under the protection of the Northern Scepter. HMS Samwise, the Thain and Master were his personally appointed Counsellors. Men were forbidden to enter, except by permission of the King and his Counselors of the North Kingdoms, or their duly appointed Deputies.
Thalia: I would make certain the two proclamations were the same… you should always be careful with such things. You never know what things are waiting, ever watchful, and might slink in through the loopholes…
The High Queen Arwen, born of the immortal Elves, had forsaken her immortality to marry her love Aragorn, as Elessar then was known. A wise and elegant woman, she was rivaled in beauty only by Elanor, whom she made an honorary Handmaiden. Elanor became great friends with the royal princesses, especially Princess Celendrian, closest to her in age.
Thalia: …which is why we’re only hearing of it secondhand? Unless Celendrian and Elanor merely declared themselves to be great friends and it became so, without all the messy work of making friends… if only it were that easy… *she sighs wearily*
MG: Also, in canon Elanor was made a Maid of Honor to the Queen, and it’s never said the position was strictly ceremonial… I wonder if Polychron (accidentally?) gave Elanor a wee bit of a demotion…
But for Elanor, the capstone of the festivities came when Elessar draped her father’s well- traveled grey Elvish cloak about his shoulders and fastened it in place with a dazzling bright brooch called, ‘The Star Of The Dúnedain.’
Tharkos: As is the proper reaction to seeing one’s father honored by his sovereign for his heroic deeds!
Rumor had it the clasp had been crafted by the Dwarves of Erabor and was made entirely of mithril. That alone would have made Sam the richest hobbit in the Shire, if he hadn’t been already. It was quite the honor for the High King to be recognizing hobbits and their contributions to the free the people of Middle-earth during the great War Of The Ring.
Kasnari: Perhaps it would have been a greater honor if it had been the dwarves of Erebor who made the clasp, and not a misspelled group of pretenders? And I must say, Aragorn and Samwise were friends and traveling companions, is it really such a surprise that Aragorn is honoring him and his people?
Loremaster’s Headache: 3 (“Erabor?”)
After the festival Elessar, his family, their guests and a large crew of Gondorians traveled a hundred miles north to the source of the Brandywine River, Lake Evendim. It was bordered on the north by the Emyn Uial: The Twilight Hills of Eriador. There they commenced rebuilding the ancient city of Annúminas, once long ago and now again, the capital of the Kingdom of Arnor.
News may be slow to get around in these parts, but what’s come around’s been around, if you catch my meaning.
Thalia: *looking faintly worried* No, no I don’t!
After that Tookland, Buckland and the Four Farthings were never quite the same sleepy places people remembered from before the Great War.
MG: *muttering* Tookland is part of the Westfarthing, it’s not a separate territory… And I can’t help but imagine that having the peace of the Shire so rudely uprooted isn’t something Tolkien would have considered a particularly happy ending, though it’s hardly the fic’s worst offense on that front.
It should be expected. After all, when the High King of Middle-earth comes a-calling bringing princely gifts and honoring so many of your own, people are bound to notice.
Tharkos: *looking at a map* The narrator oversteps themselves. The territories of Arnor and Gondor combined appear to be quite impressive, but Aragorn was hardly the High King of all Middle-earth! Even the great Coaltongue would never have made so expansive a boast in my own world. And I believe much of the territory he claimed on paper would have been thinly inhabited at best…
MG: Yeah, and especially once we start getting into the freaking huge territories some of Polychron’s villains rule, claiming Aragorn is the High King of the entire continent is a bit rich.
Loremaster’s Headache: 4
The sixteen-year-old Crown Prince Eldarion Telcontar had stayed behind in Gondor. He lived in the Palace of Anor in Minas Tirith, ruling as Regent.
Tharkos: What. The entire point of a regency is to prevent underaged whelps with no experience from actually ruling, not to make said whelps the regent themselves!
Kasanari: And I thought the residence of Gondor’s rulers was the Citadel in Minas Tirith?
MG: It is. The Palace of Anor is something else. And, well… we’ll talk about that when Polychron gets to it, because it’s a doozy.
Guided by Prince Faramir of Ithilien, Elessar’s Steward and principal Counselor,
Tharkos: Then he should have been the regent, with Eldarion as his observer and student!
Eldarion studied the languages and histories of his subjects from ancient scrolls, and some said, being tutored by wise Men and High Elves in the Arts of falconry, philosophy and warfare, and the ancient Lore of the Rings.
Kasanari: While I certainly would consider falconry a fine activity for a young man of royal birth – teaching him to rely on and care for another creature is valuable, as is giving him a connection to the natural world and its creatures – the fact that it is listed first makes me think that Polychron considers it the most vital skill of kingship. That is… curious.
MG: And just wait until we get to what Polychron’s idea of the “lore of the Rings” entails…
Thalia: That was remarkably ominous. Perhaps it should have been accompanied by a crash of thunder…
So it was clear to everyone that Elanor was a catch.
Tharkos: …I have absolutely no idea why Prince Eldarion’s studies makes a girl half a continent away who he has quite possibly never met a “catch!”
Kasanari: …I think it’s just poorly worded?
Thalia: Perhaps Elanor is somehow absorbing everything Eldarion is learning, through arts of which it is wise to not speak aloud, and it’s making her more desirable? This may merit further investigation…
Besides her father being decorated for his accomplishments by the High King and she herself being honored by the High Queen, Elanor was the most beautiful hobbit anyone had ever seen!
Thalia: Aha! Elanor is also becoming more beautiful as her father is honored! I think she really is absorbing the energies of people around her – but is she doing it on purpose, or is she herself a victim of yet more sinister purposes?
She lived with her family at the top of the Hill in Bag End. Its seemingly endless tunnels were rumored to be stuffed with treasure, and some said, ill-gotten gains from three generations of particularly adventuresome hobbits.
First, Bilbo went off with a company of Dwarves. Rumors persist to this day that they fought and killed a dragon, as unlikely as it sounds.
MG: Actually, in the earliest drafts of The Hobbit, Bilbo apparently did kill Smaug (by stabbing him in his bare patch with Sting); Bard was added later. So these nameless hobbit rumormongers may be more right than they realize…
Yet in light of later events, folks were no longer so quick to discount outlandish tales. Less credible sources claim they returned with their backs bent under war trophies, including the heads of trolls, enough magical items to start an entire school for wizards, and bags of treasure carried by more than three hundred Dwarves.
Kasanari: I understand that tales grow in the telling, but even so, this seems excessive.
Tharkos: Yes, this would be impressive trophies for a victorious army, much less one halfing! One must wonder if the bards think they’ll be paid more if they inflate the amount of treasure in their stories to absurd degrees…
Years later, Bilbo mysteriously vanished at his own birthday party, an event still talked about and debated in these parts. Seventeen years after that, Frodo left to have his own extraordinary adventures with Sam, coming back even richer.
MG: …because when I think of The Lord of the Rings, I think of triumphant returns home with tremendous wealth. Yeah, Polychron, Frodo’s journey in LotR is explicitly not the sort of “there and back again” adventure Bilbo had in The Hobbit, and the few treasures he and Sam brought back with them were of a more personal nature. I can see rumor inflating it, but they didn’t really come back “richer” the way Bilbo did!
Shortly after the birth of Elanor, when she was still Sam and Rosie’s only child, Frodo himself vanished on his final adventure with Sam. The two of them had traveled all the way west to the ocean. There they were met by the ancient Kings and Queens of Elves. Sam witnessed them leaving Middle-earth forever on a white ship, departing from the Havens and sailing West over the sea.
MG: …that may be the single driest summary of that even I’ve ever read. *sigh* I wish I was listening to “Into the West” instead…
Returning home, he and Rosie were left holding the keys to Bag End. This did not sit well with the renewed consternation of many a Baggins kin. None more so than the many Sackville and Bracegirdle cousins of the now extinguished Sackville-Baggins branch of the Baggins family tree.
Kasanari: *checking* And here I thought Lobelia actually made a point of ending the feud with Frodo and Bilbo’s side of the family before she died. Clearly, I was mistaken!
Happy-Ending Override: 1
The ever-regretful Lobelia and her son Lotho Sackville-Baggins had once acquired the surrounding land and coveted hole in a true and legal sale. It was that dark time years before when Frodo and Sam had been forced to flee the Shire pursued by Black Riders.
Merry and Pippin had joined them fighting in the Great War. The four of them endured torture and monstrous trials while adventuring through the kingdoms of Eriador, Eregion, Khazad-dûm, Lothlórien, Rohan, Fangorn, Gondor, Ithilien and Mordor.
MG: Eregion, a “kingdom” that hasn’t existed for millennia as of LotR and was a desolate wilderness when the hobbits passed through it? Or Eriador, the huge region which contains multiple nations, including the Shire itself? Fangorn, where the fact that the ents are apparently a unified nation now instead of a loose collection of individuals is sure to come as a real shock to Treebeard? Ithilien, which is a province of Gondor, as we already went over endlessly in the TLR sporking? I don’t think Polychron knows what a kingdom is any more than Yeskov seemed to…
Loremaster’s Headache: 5
While they were gone, half-Orc Southrons and Ruffians invaded their homelands, conquering the Shire and making her people slaves in all but name. Yet thanks to the return of HMS Samwise, Frodo Baggins, the Thain Peregrin Took and the Master Meriadoc, the courage of their people was re-ignited. Leading the very flower of formidable and steadfast hobbitry, the four Travelers (as they then were known) raised the people of the Shire against their enemies.
Tharkos: *growls angrily* I will not stand by idly as a gang of bandits and mercenaries are treated as if they represent my entire race, halflings!
Kasanari: …Remember, Tharkos, this is a different world, and these aren’t your people… I know, I know, it’s the principle of the thing…
MG: Also… “Southrons” is another name for the Haradrim. Sharkey’s Men were a mix of relatively local bandits and toughs like Bill Ferny, and seemingly some of the more humanlike products of Saruman’s breeding experiments. I’m not sure exactly what the human side of their heritage was… but since Dunland was under Isengard’s influence and Dunlendings fought for Saruman in his campaign in Rohan, I’m going to go out on a limb and say “mostly Dunlending.” Completely different people from the Haradrim.
Loremaster’s Headache: 6
The half-Orc Southrons and Ruffians were routed at the Battle of Bywater in 1419.
When Lobelia was freed from her prison, she learned Lotho had been murdered asleep in his bed at Bag End.
MG: Technically, we don’t know when and how Wormtongue killed Lotho. Saruman does imply that Wormtongue ate Lotho’s corpse (at Saruman’s own orders) so… yeah, maybe Lobelia was better off not knowing that part.
So she sold it back to Frodo in a ruinously dilapidated state, which would have cost a good-sized fortune to repair, for just a little more than what she paid (plus interest).
A plaque on the site of the battle commemorated the names of everyone who’d fought in the liberation of their homeland, except Lotho.
MG: I mean, Lotho didn’t actually fight in the liberation, considering he was not only a Quisling but had come down with a minor case of being dead already, so… fair enough.
Many believed it was him who’d let the Ruffians come in the first place.
Thalia: An easy deduction to make, considering Lotho hired the Ruffians to begin with, they openly worked for him, and only took over from him in their own right later! Unless it was all just a clever diversion, and the true mastermind was… Ted Sandyman all along! The fiend!
The Shire was finally freed from the evil wizard Saruman.
It was a tale with which to astonish children – except that every word of it was true!
Kasanari: *muttering* Give or take a handful of words…
It was once considered peculiar for a hobbit to leave the Shire. But these historic events inspired the younger generation. This fueled their ambitions to one day embark on the Road and undertake long and dangerous journeys of their own (few actually did so).
Tharkos: I can only imagine; if they still think that their neighboring country is “distant,” I can’t think many of them would have ambition to make it farther afield than that!
They yearned to travel to unknown lands and become part of the histories of kings, queens, wizards, dragons, elves and a multitude of nefarious Beasts.
Thalia: Ah, nefarious Beasts! Be wary of them, young halflings, for those Beasts will get ahold of you and turn you inside out until you don’t even know who you are anymore… *beat* Why is “Beasts” capitalized, anyway?
MG: No idea. Though Polychron has some… interesting takes on Middle-earth’s various intelligent animals which we’ll eventually see.
Thalia: I await it with both excitement and dread!
After performing heroic deeds, they vowed to return with much treasure and retire to a life of fame and leisure.
Except for Elanor.
Though genuinely enjoying the friendship of the Princess Celendrian and her sisters, the thought of unseen vistas in distant lands sounded unappealing.
MG: Okay, on the one hand, I can kind of see what Polychron is going for here with trying to create a heroine who stands out among her peers because she’s content with her life and doesn’t dream of adventure (but adventure finds her anyway) but at the same time… a hobbit homebody with no desire to leave the Shire gets (spoilers!) pulled into adventure by a wizard? Never seen that before *rolls eyes*. And it’s not like Elanor’s desire to stay at home and live a peaceful life is ever going to be that important, anyway.
She already had most everything a young hobbit could wish for: a loving family, great friends, and the prospects for a prosperous and happy future. The last thing in the world she wanted was to leave it all behind for strange people and foreign places.
Kasanari: I can sympathize, but sometimes, leaving home is inevitable. Frodo and your father left the Shire with Ringwraiths on their tail, if you will recall. Or, in my case, I left my home because it was (and remains) on fire. Life is not always a great respecter of people’s desires.
She didn’t even want to imagine riding on treacherous roads (although her father had been sure to teach her how to ride), much less walking.
Tharkos: She makes it sound as though walking is more difficult than riding. Less convenient, perhaps, but in most places I could name, it is riding that is considered the greater means of transport.
Or worse, running in fear for her life. It not only sounded depressingly dangerous, it would have deprived her of the friendly faces and many comforts of home.
Kasanari: And also, potentially, of your life. You are aware of what running for your life means, don’t you?
Elessar returned to Gondor after he and his men spent a year rebuilding the city of Annúminas. It now stood even grander than it had of old.
MG: What. Seriously, what. Aragorn managed to rebuild Annuminas – a large, elaborate city – in a year. Not only that, he made it better than it was back when it was the capital of Arnor? Just… how? Does Polychron realize how big a city is and how long it takes to build one? And where did Aragorn get the people? The Dunedain of the North are a rather small, scattered people – even if he gathered them all together and plunked them down in one place (and that’s assuming they all wanted to settle at Annuminas and not in Gondor, or to rebuild Fornost or one of the other old Arnorian cities), it still doesn’t seem like it would be enough to populate such a large city! And this is far from the last time Polychron will have this problem – we’ll find that there’s been massive urbanization and population explosion going on all across Middle-earth, and no real indication of how it’s happening or where all the people are coming from!
Thalia: …I do not think I want to know where and how the resources to build and people a large city in a single year came from, and can only recommend visitors to not attempt to make sense of the architecture or its geometry, lest they be subject to unpleasant revelations…
Expansion-Pack World: 1 (again, where is everyone coming from?)
Traveling At the Speed of Plot: 1 (or building, in this case…)
During that year, Arwen and Rosie had both delivered babies and things became more hectic. In the following six years, her parents had three more children. Now her mother had recently announced, she was once again pregnant.
As happy as Elanor was at the prospects of her parent’s adding yet another child to their large happy family, she wondered if maybe – enough was enough.
She already had eleven brothers and sisters. She didn’t understand their need to keep adding more. She loved everyone in her family, but the tunnels of Bag End were not as endless as outsiders believed.
MG: Okay, part of me thinks this is a decent touch for humanizing (hobbit-izing?) Elanor – on the other hand, large families do seem to be the norm for hobbits (it’s explicitly noted that there’s usually a few hundred Brandybucks hanging around Brandy Hall at any given time, though the Brandybucks, being such a large and wealthy family, are probably outlier, while Bilbo and Frodo, as lifelong bachelors, were both unusual) so I’m not quite sure how well it fits culturally.
When she was little and had only two or three siblings, their halls had still seemed spacious. When her grandfather the Gaffer died, her father added his hole to their own, bought the others, and rechristened the entire Hill the sole property and extended estate of Bag End.
MG: What. Just… am I the only one who thinks buying the entire neighborhood of the Hill – a significant chunk of the town of Hobbiton – turning out everyone else who lives there (albeit presumably with compensation) and converting the whole thing into his family estates seems a wee bit out of character for humble, practical Sam? Just a bit?
Elanor had proudly welcomed Queen Arwen and the royal princesses to the many newly- connected and well-appointed holes in their extensive and now lavish home.
Kasanari: I was under the impression that Bag End was already quite lavish and well-appointed, by local standards. And I cannot help but feel that this focus on material wealth is a mistake, and fear this is not the last we’ll see of it…
MG: It’s not, trust me.
But after adding so many more children and with the prospects of yet another, even with all the additions, things were beginning to feel a bit cramped.
To make matters worse prospective suitors, anticipating the intense competition that would invariably ensue after Elanor’s two-and-twentieth, and opting to forgo the adventuring part and skip right to the treasures and Bag End, had decided to get a jump on the competition.
Tharkos: *folding his arms in disapproval* And so do these strangers simply assume that they can show up from nowhere to court the Mayor’s daughter before she is even eligible, having done nothing to prove their worth? I can only assume they failed miserably, and deservedly so.
Pervy Hobbit Fanciers: 3
Many had already come calling. Knocking on Bag End’s large round door, they came unannounced in ill-fitting, overly formal clothes and sweat stained faces.
Kasanari: Charming. I have a sneaking suspicion that Polychron wishes us to think ill of these people… whoever they may be.
Thalia: *looks down at her own ragged robes, as if trying to decide whether this would be better or worse*
Invariably they brought inappropriate and ridiculously over-expensive gifts.
MG: No fewer than five of them showed up with what they assured Elanor was the one and only genuine Arkenstone. Needless to say, nobody was amused, least of all the company of traveling dwarven merchants staying at the Green Dragon when they heard about it...
None of them pleased her and she didn’t take any of their offers of courtship very seriously.
Kasanari: I should hope not, considering how young she is! These men should be ashamed of themselves… and not because their clothes don’t fit!
Pervy Hobbit Fanciers: 4
It got so bothersome, her father set a permanent guard at the bottom of the path leading up the Hill to their door.
MG: It was times like this that Sam regretted buying the whole Hill, since it meant his guard had a lot more ground to cover. Still, the old “No Admittance Except on Party Business” sign he inherited from Bilbo and Frodo worked wonders.
That was fine with Elanor.
She still felt much too young to begin courting the ne’er do wells of the Four Farthings,
much less marrying and leaving her family.
Tharkos: I suppose the more respectable hobbits were waiting for her to reach a more respectable age, at least? Though considering her complaints about the size of her family, one might think that moving out would have a certain appeal.
Pervy Hobbit Fanciers: 5
There was still a great deal of work to do on the Red Book. And there wasn’t a hill, hole or house in any of the lands she’d visited, nor any she’d heard tales of, holding the least bit of attraction to her more than Bag End already did.
Thalia: And how many lands, pray tell, has she visited? Unless poor Elanor is cursed and living backwards, so her lack of desire for adventure is because she has already had – or will have it, but remembers! – her fair share of it!
Though once when she was still quite young, her father had taken the entire family on the most wonderful vacation! They traveled west past the Far Downs and chanced on another hobbit family traveling west, the Greenholms. The head of the clan was a respectable old hobbit named Folcred, who everyone called Ed.
MG: Okay, so canonically, Fastred was the name of the hobbit who Elanor actually would end up marrying (so all the other suitors are out of luck already!). But the appendices call him Fastred of Greenholm, not “Fastred Greenholm”; Greenholm seems to have been the town he was from, not his family name. Fastred and Elanor’s descendants were the Fairbairns, but that’s a name they took after Elanor (and in honor of her). So… not terrible, but still worth noting.
Loremaster’s Headache: 7
Both he and his wife Ewartia, who everyone called Alice,
Kasanari: *confused* Why? How do you get “Alice” from “Ewartia?” And if you don’t… where did “Alice” come from in the first place?
MG: “Ewartia” is a real-world genus of plants native to New Zealand. And, okay, considering the tendency of hobbit women to have flower names, and New Zealand being where the Jackson movies were filmed… that’s actually kind of clever, Polychron (though it doesn’t explain where and how the hobbits got the name “Ewartia” from…). On the other hand, that still doesn’t explain “Alice.”
had impressed her parents with their knowledge of ship craft and navigation.
MG: Especially considering that, with the exception of the Bucklanders, most hobbits hate boats and ships, and Sam (apart from his fascination with the elves and their sailing West, which is a very particular thing) is no exception! And the Shire, once again, is landlocked! Not sure “impressed” is quite the right word for how Sam and Rosie would likely react. “Confused,” maybe.
They were teaching these to their children, especially their oldest son Fastred. Elanor had been impressed with Fastred too, but they were much too young to think of each other as anything other than friends.
Thalia: But I doubt it will stay that way for long… ah, young love!
When they reached the Elvish Kingdom of Lindon, it was the Greenholm’s turn to be impressed. The Elven ruler Lord Círdan welcomed them to East Mithlond. It was the southern harbor of the twin Elvish towns, the Grey Havens. They sat on opposite shores in the Gulf of Lune at the river mouth. Círdan held a lavish feast in her father’s honor calling him Ringbearer.
Tharkos: Should it not be South Mithlond, then? Bah, typical elvish nonsense, naming things incorrectly for no reason but to confuse honest folk.
The next day Círdan’s chief advisor, the Elven Lord Galdor of the Trees & Havens,
MG: Galdor is a canonical character, but his only role is minor, where he appears as Cirdan’s messenger at the Council of Elrond. There’s no indication he’s “Lord of the Trees and Havens” or this important in Cirdan’s household (though there’s nothing to contradict it either, admittedly) but as we’ll see, Polychron has a thing for giving characters impressive titles (and making them kings of queens when they weren’t in the source material, a trait he curiously shares with Yeskov)
gave them a tour of the palace and harbor. Among the many wonders, Elanor had been most impressed by two magnificent statues.
The one at the palace had been sculpted by the red-haired Elvish sculptress, Lady Drendelen. She lived in Rivendell and was the finest sculptor in Middle-earth. Her grandmother the Lady Nerdanel lived across the ocean in Valinor. She was the widow of the legendary Elvish smith and master craftsman Lord Fëanor and the finest sculptor in all of Arda.
MG: That’s Nerdanel who is Feanor’s widow, not Drendelen, just for the confusing wording. Drendelen is one of Polychron’s OCs; canonically, so far as we can tell, Celebrimbor was Feanor’s only grandchild (I suppose Nerdanel could have remarried or had an affair and Drendelen descends from that and not from Feanor, but that seems highly unlikely considering what we know of elves in general and Nerdanel in particular). For my peace of mind, since we never do learn exactly how she fits into the Feanorian genealogy, I’m going to headcanon Drendelen as Celebrimbor’s twin sister, since that seems to muck up the family tree the least, and move on. “Drendelen,” as far as I can tell, is meaningless… but it is almost an anagram of her grandmother’s name, so there’s that. *headdesk* We’ll be hearing more about her as the fic goes on, and eventually we’ll meet her; Polychron seems to like her.
Linguistic Confusions: 2
Loremaster’s Headache: 7
Drendelen’s sculpture depicted the ancient Elvish High King Gil-galad wielding his enchanted spear Aeglos (presumably against orcs).
Kasanari: No! I’d have thought he was using it as a harpoon for fishing! Silly me!
The look of fury on the statue’s face, the tension in the marble arms and the frozen-in-time perception of Gil-galad’s arms slinging his mighty war spear forward – were breathtaking.
At the harbor was another statue, a masterwork of Lady Nerdanel’s. It had been sculpted in Valinor and shipped to Númenor by the Eldar, the Elves of Tol Eressëa. It was among their most precious gifts to the Edain, the wisest and strongest Men in Middle-earth.
Many of Nerdanel’s statues had been brought from Númenor by Elendil the Mariner, the first High King of the Númenórean Kingdoms in Exile. He and his sons Isildur and Anárion founded the kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor after their island continent sank beneath the sea.
MG: I mean, all of that is true, except for the bit about Nerdanel’s statues, since I don’t believe it’s ever been confirmed if any of them ever made it back to Middle-earth… but I do have to chuckle darkly at imagining the Faithful, desperately preparing to flee Numenor in their small fleet just before the Downfall, taking the time to carefully load and safely pack a number of large, presumably heavy statues. I can understand the desire to preserve great art, but still – priorities, people!
Nerdanel’s statue depicted the legendary Elvish Captain, Lord Eärendil. With his cloak billowing, he stepped onto the prow of his ship holding the dazzling gem known as the Silmaril, one of three forged by Fëanor. Eärendil was returning it to Valinor to beg for the aid of the Valar against Morgoth, the evil Dark Lord destroying Middle-earth and enslaving her people.
Thalia: That is perhaps the most bland description of great evil I have ever heard! *she smiles unsettlingly* Come, Polychron, let us talk together… I have dreamed of horrors, let me describe them to you!
MG: *glancing at her, then shifting quietly away* Moving on, I do kind of have to quibble about the description of Earendil as an “Elvish Captain.” Earendil was actually a half-elf (a rarity in Middle-earth), the son of the human hero Tuor and the elvish princess Idril Celebrindal. After reaching Valinor, he and his wife Elwing (also half-elven, the granddaughter of Beren and Luthien) were given the choice of which kindred to belong to, as were their children; Elwing, who chose first, chose to be an elf, and Earendil did so as well for her sake, but the narrative specifically notes that his heart always laid more with Men. Earendil’s son Elros chose mortality and became the first king of Numenor (Elros’ brother, Elrond, chose immortality) and the Sil is pretty clear that the Numenoreans, at least, never really considered Earendil an elf and instead saw him as the first and forebear of their own people. Now, elves might well consider the matter differently, but even so, calling Earendil an “elf” without qualifications seems a little off.
The Valar agreed to help and returned with him, waging the terrible War of Wrath.
Empowering Eärendil to pilot his ship through the skies, there he slew the giant father-of-all- dragons, Ancalagon the Black and achieved the victory.
MG: Whoops! Ancalagon was the greatest of all dragons, but the father of dragons was Glaurung! Ding, ding!
Loremaster’s Headache: 8 (for forcibly combining Ancalagon and Glaurung)
As a reward for his heroism, the Valar set him, his ship and his Silmaril high in the sky as the brightest star in all the Heavens.
MG: And we’ve got the order of events here wrong, too! Earendil, his ship and the Silmaril were set in the sky as a star after his voyage, as a reward for his journey and winning the Valar’s aid, and as a sign to Middle-earth that help was coming. He later descended from the sky to do battle with Ancalagon, and subsequently returned to his post, now standing watch against the possible return of Morgoth from the void.
Loremaster’s Headache: 9
Galdor explained that Nerdanel was considered the greatest sculptor who ever lived, because the balance and forms of her compositions were perfection. Not even Drendelen had captured the majesty of her subjects the way her grandmother had. Nerdanel’s statues were flawless idealized visions. She achieved what no artist ever had – she had captured the ideal.
Kasanari: *checking* Actually, according to what I’ve just read, Nerdanel’s statues were remarkable because they were so lifelike those who didn’t know any better might think they were real! Real people are not so dramatically idealized, so one would presume Nerdanel’s sculptures weren’t, either.
Though no less skillful, Drendelen’s statues were full of flaws. They were not mistakes she made while sculpting, the imperfections were on the people and things she modeled.
Tharkos: *snorts* That seems less like a flaw, and more like a deliberate choice. Just because something is different does not make it wrong. Something others might care to learn.
Galdor pointed out the sweat on Gil-galad’s face, blemishes and scars on his skin, dents and rents in his armor, stray hairs on his head, and loose marble threads hanging from his marble clothes. Some argued the flaws were Drendelen’s: they didn’t belong in representations. Who would make gifts of cracked gems, dented rings or paintings marred by misplaced brushstrokes?
Thalia: Well, “cracked gems, dented rings or paintings marred by misplaced brushstrokes” are all things that are themselves broken. Drendelen made an artistic choice to represent the brokenness of her subjects, a very different thing! But then, there is beauty in lost and broken things…
Others disagreed. They claimed Drendelen had never made an error, just as her grandmother hadn’t: the imperfections deserved to be represented because they were real.
Tharkos: Tell me, is there any reason why we are having this digression about people’s differing taste in art instead of moving on with the plot?
MG: Well, mostly to set up Drendelen and make sure we totally know Polychron’s OC is just as awesome as Arda’s canonical greatest sculptor, we swear!
Tharkos: *sigh*
Near the end of his tour, Galdor took them to the westernmost and tallest of three white citadels: The Tower of Elostirion. Rising high atop a hill, it looked far out over the sea.
MG: Impressive, considering the Tower Hills and Elostirion aren’t actually in the Grey Havens! Galdor must have made his guests hike a bit…
Traveling at the Speed of Plot: 2
Slowly, they climbed the long winding staircase until they reached the large chamber at the very top. They saw it was filled with art, gold, jewels, books and other Elvish riches. The walls were lined with display cases bearing ancient heirlooms and secret treasures.
Kasanari: Unless the treasures in the display cases are dummies meant to distract viewers from the actual treasures, then objects on display in a public place aren’t exactly secret, are they?
Elanor found two statues on opposite sides of the chamber particularly striking.
Nerdanel’s depicted Lord Fëanor rising from his workbench. In his left hand he lifted the first of his three dazzling gems, the Silmarilli.
MG: Considering how badly Nerdanel and Feanor’s marriage ended, and how the Silmarilli ultimately ruined their family and lead to the death of Feanor himself and all but one of their sons (assuming Maglor is still out there somewhere; if he died at some point between the Sil and LotR, then that’s all their sons)… yeah, this feels like a subject that would be a teensy bit uncomfortable for Nerdanel to sculpt. Maybe that’s why she ended up giving it away…
Drendelen’s statue showed Fëanor’s grandson, the Elvish master craftsman Lord Celebrimbor. Once the King of Harlindon and Eregion, he raised his hammer high over his anvil. Within the tongs in his other hand he was forging one of his many Rings of Power.
MG: *sigh* Okay, one, Harlindon is just the half of Lindon that’s north of the Gulf of Lune, it’s not a separate country and doesn’t have its own king. Two, Celebrimbor was never king of Harlindon; Celeborn briefly ruled the elves of northern Lindon before moving to Eregion with Galadriel, but he’s a totally different person! And, though Celebrimbor was the ruler of Eregion, AFAIK he never called himself king, he was just a lord and the master of the guild of jewel smiths. Also, do note the reference to Celebrimbor’s “many” Rings of Power, because we’ll be coming back to that…
Loremaster’s Headache: 11
Galdor pointed out the large roped-off empty white-marble pillar in the middle of the room. It had once held a palantír, or ‘Seeing Stone.’ There were seven that had been brought by Elendil from Númenor, from among the many Fëanor had forged in Valinor.
In this very chamber Elendil himself, who was called the ‘The Fair’ just as Elanor was, when facing West, could look into the palantír and see all the way across the ocean. There, he beheld the rulers of Valinor: Manwë and Varda themselves, sitting on their elevated thrones within the Palace of Ilmarin atop the peak of Amon Uilos, the highest mountain in all of Arda.
Thalia: Never have I seen a less interesting description of someone being given a glimpse of the divine. This bodes ill for the rest of the story…
MG: And I’ll note that while Elendil was known as “the Fair,” it was only one of his many epithets (the most common being “the Tall”). And Elanor was called “the Fair” because of her bright golden hair, a rarity among hobbits; considering Elendil was a Numenorean, who are almost always dark haired with no indication he was unusual in that regard (and we know Aragorn was said to resemble his ancestor greatly in both appearance and temperament, and he’s canonically dark haired)… he probably wasn’t called that name for the same reason.
Elanor was dazzled.
MG: Gah! Who let Edward Cullen into the story! Then again, we already had a random Alice…
Not just by the treasures and visions described by Galdor, but by a sudden kinship, completely unfounded she knew, she couldn’t help feeling for the High King Elendil.
Her brothers and sisters laughed at her.
Tharkos: It may seem harsh, but she did just claim affinity with one of the greatest historical leaders in her world for no particularly compelling reason. I can imagine her siblings were… unimpressed.
But Fastred said he too felt a kinship with Elendil the Mariner, and this strange and beautiful land. Fastred confided that secretly, he longed one day to live somewhere as fair as these green hills, so he could sail across the ocean, just as Elendil had.
MG: Well, the good news is that Fastred and Elanor did end up canonically settling near the Tower Hills after they got married, so at least he knows what he wants out of life and is already planning ahead for it?
Of all the fair people Elanor ever met and all the wonderful things she ever did, it was this magic summer in childhood with Fastred in the West of Middle-earth among the Elves that she most fondly remembered, and to which secretly, she longed one day to return.
Thalia: All the foul people she ever met, meanwhile, were mortally offended to be excluded and even now plotted their inevitable revenge…
MG: And, spoilers, Elanor never does get to return to the Grey Havens or the Tower Hills in this fic! Whether she ever would have had the series continued… the world may never know. Regardless, on that note, the prologue comes to a close.
Thus far, the fic is… not great, but not really overtly terrible either. The writing is often awkward and pretty painfully bland and boring (reminds me of Yeskov a bit… and Lionheart…), I don’t think Polychron has really thought through a lot of his use of time, date, distance and population (and I certainly hope he didn’t realize just how underage by the standards of her own people he’d written Elanor…), and he makes some baffling lore errors from the Sil for someone who will later be making some pretty deep cuts into Unfinished Tales and the History of Middle-earth. But it at least does what it sets out to do in terms of introducing Elanor, recapping LotR and establishing the basic state of things after the War of the Ring. Alas, before long it’s going to be getting much worse, very fast. Next time, Master Samwise receives a visitor. We’ll see you then! Our counts stand at:
Expansion-Pack World: 1
Happy Ending Override: 1
Linguistic Confusions: 2
Loremaster’s Headache: 11
Pervy Hobbit Fanciers: 5
Rings-a-Palooza: 2
Traveling at the Speed of Plot: 2
