I have a fic request: the scene where Feanor rejects handing over the Silmarils in the style of Ayn Rand.
this is the worst thing anyone has ever suggested i write and also, probably, the worst thing i have ever written. thanks, friend.
***
There was long silence, but Fëanor answered no word. ThenTulkas cried: “Speak, O Noldo, yea or nay! But who shall deny Yavanna? And didnot the light of the Silmarils come from her work in the beginning?”
But Aulë the Maker said: “Be not hasty! We ask a greaterthing than thou knowest. Let him have peace yet a while.”
But Fëanor spoke then, and cried bitterly: “If it is truethat men can achieve their good by means of turning some men into sacrificialanimals, and I am asked to immolate myself for the sake of creatures who wantto survive at the price of my blood, if I am asked to serve the interests ofsociety apart from, above and against my own – I refuse, I fight this as themost contemptible evil, I fight it with every power I possess, I fight in thefull confidence of the justice of my battle and of a living being’s right toexist. It may be that I can unlock my jewels, but never again shall I maketheir like; and if I must break them, I shall break my heart, and I shall beslain – “
This went on for some time. In the faces of Fëanor’saudience was the look, perhaps, of something like awe.
“I didn’t realise Incarnates could keep talking for so long,” Vana whispered to Oromë. “Surely he needs tobreathe eventually?”
“- let there be no misunderstanding about me. This thing Iwill not do of my own free will. But if the Valar will constrain me, then Ishall know indeed that Melkor is of their kindred – “
“Well, fine,”Yavanna muttered. “We’ll all sit here in the dark, then, just to prove a point.How lovely. Nostalgic. Just like I remember it.”
Nienna, with a bland look, kicked Námo in the ankle. He shot her a reproachful glance, but prepared to interrupt.












