A huge thank you for @ismeneee for her wonderful, downright stunning work on this commission of my twin Tolkien OCs Maedeth and RĂnior from my completed longfic about the fall of Arthedain, "For Blood Ye Render Blood."
Excerpt | 36 | WHAT IS RIGHT
"I killed him," she said.
He nodded. Pulling her closer, he took deep breaths as he held her to his chest. "I know. You had to. You did the right thing. He would've killed you."
The right thing? She shivered. Perhaps. Perhaps. And yet she struggled to breathe and couldn't form words. A dozen men lay about them, unseeing eyes turned to the stars or into the dark grass. And she'd helped put them there.
"You did the right thing."
How easily those words came to people. Maedeth had said them herself for years. King Arveleg had said them. The captains of Arthedain had done the same. They'd needed heroes, soldiers, and the young half-elf of Arthedain was asked to do his duty.
When RĂnior returned with the Palantir of Amon SĂťl, all had praised him. But Maedeth had seen what others did not. He'd cried so hard that night.
Tears came to her eyes as she clung to Elladan. She shook against his warm embrace. They had only each other.
RĂnior had only had her. When he woke up screaming the names of his friends, not just for days but decades. He had done the right thing, they told him. He'd done the right thing. He'd killed, slaughtered, and then run away, the lone survivor. But he'd done the right thing, she'd said.
"It gets easier," Elladan whispered.
Maedeth knew that. But as she squeezed her eyes shut against his chest, she cursed the very fact that it did so. The reluctant hero became Arthedain's champion, Maedeth his greatest supporter. He stopped returning to Fornost. Too many battles to be fought. He had to protect Tiniel, he had to protect Maedeth. Killing became second nature.
And she had cheered him on. Maedeth wept. It had been her brother who said she should not train. He'd been adamant. Each time she sought to pick up a blade, he'd shut her down. It was enough for only one of them to experience so much death.
She released her grip on Elladan. All around them, the bodies of the brigands lay eerily still. The last few dying embers of the fire gave off a heavy smoke that mingled with the metallic tang of blood.
Her hair was like silver; and she was slender as a white flower in the grass. Soft and sweet was her voice, and she sang as she worked, like rippling water, in music without words. For her hands were more skilled to make things fine and delicate than any other hands even among the Noldor. By her the craft of needles was devised; and if but one fragment of the broideries of MĂriel were seen in Middle-earth it would be held dearer than a kingâs realm; for the richness of her devices and the fire of their colours were as manifold and as bright as the wealth of leaf and flower and wing in the fields of Yavanna. Therefore she was called ĂerindĂŤ.
âThe History of Middle-earth: Volume X: Morgothâs Ring, âThe Later Quenta Silmarillionâ
getting back into lotr is like. i believe in the power of choosing to do good even when you donât feel like youâre good. the power of healing instead of hurting even if healing hurts more than hurting. the power of being unable to heal and of finding relief in the unknown. i want to be kinder. i want to be better. i want to be gentle and unburdened again but i have to walk on and on. does any of this have meaning? why of course even if you canât remember or find the meaning of it in this very instance. itâs okay. you can cry. itâs okay. you did your best. what does it mean to be a good person? i want to believe that i can change and change the course of things even if iâm insignificant in the grand scheme of things. no one is insignificant in the grand scheme of things. i would walk with you to the end of the world and beyond to the next world too and the one after that. donât leave me behind. i love you. i love you and i must leave you but i will always remember you. i love you. until our roads converge once more, be happy and eat well. thank you for following me to the end, iâll see you again after the last star falls.
Lady Macbeth washing her hand but not being cleaned up , but maglor , and the reason why it is not getting cleaned up is because he see the sea as it was the day of the first kinslaying , full of blood .
Dedicated to @messedupdoilies for this post: "âevery night I save youâ is one of the most devastatingly romantic sentiments Iâve ever seen in my life btw" x
I was going to make a post that was like âitâs crazy how someone 5,000 years ago snatched a cat out of the wild and now Iâve got 2 of those little fuckers living with meâ but the domestication date for cats is much earlier than that
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