#dark lalwen

[mittenyaare]

The Cursed, Dark!Lalwen, FëanorLives! Au nobody asked for.

"It was really quite foolish of you," Lalwen states with gentle mockery as she stares down at her two older brothers laid out on cots in the healing tent, "to become so carelessly wounded."

"Írimë—" Fëano attempts a warning growl, cut off by the simple raise of her hand. That, and—

There is a bright flash in Lalwen's grey eyes, as sharp as a spear, as cold and distant as the stars.

"Quite foolish," she repeats, red lips curving back over her white teeth in satisfaction like a wolf who has finally caught its prey. "Foolish of my brothers to think only a Ner could wear a crown."

[mittenyaare]

Your dark Lalwen is fascinating. I’d love to see more if ever you wanted to write it

-@outofangband

So, that one honestly popped into my head while I was driving home from getting an early breakfast this morning because I did not go to bed last night.

I want to write it too. Or read someone else writing it.

I tend to "see a movie" when I read stories, and "picture words" when...writing. I never have that picture of a scene, it's rather a picture of a sentence of words instead.

So there I was, driving down the road between our small town and my house out in the middle of nowhere when this wild bunny ran across my mind:

Two princes are fighting each other for the throne all the while forgetting their sister lurking in the background who suddenly comes to snatch it away from them both, mostly out of spite for never having been considered a threat.

Then I wondered how I could put that in a silm verse.

Boom! Enter dark Lalwen and alive Fëanor.

And now there are just SO so many potential possibilities.

Because I HC that Cannon Lalwen is pretty close to Fingolfin, and brutally smart. That could be twisted in so many different ways to make dark Lalwen.

And then, if Fëanor had lived long enough for them all to cross the ice...I imagine Lalwen's already considerable anger being magnified exponentially.

But the best thing, and I didn't write it on the post because I wanted to get what I did out before I lost it in my mind, would go something like:

Fingolfin: You know this is kinslaying, right. I'll be reborn someday.

Lalwen, laughing cruely: Oh, dear brother, you swore to follow Fëanáro, and he has sworn himself to the everlasting darkness if he fails to reclaim the 3 silmarils before dying.

Fëanor: I'll just point out I have seven sons who might accomplish this deed.

Lalwen, with a truly unsettling grin: Not if I have any say in it. And believe me, I will.

Well, that's terribly unpolished because I made that up just now, but the idea is there. She kills/causes both brothers to die and laughs knowing each will not be going to the Halls of Mandos but rather the void.

I further imagine she contrives ways to kill off the sons of Fëanor, and maybe even gets at least one slain by her own hands.

Long live Queen Lalwen!