there is a balrog down there

Tolkien’s Rejected Villains

For Day 5 of Silmweek, I haven’t got enough time for a full meta, so I thought that I’d talk about some fun evil minions from the weird early versions of the Legendarium. Some of these are quite interesting figures, so I thought that fanfiction writers especially might be interested in rescuing them from the scrap heap, and polishing up some new background characters they don’t have to name. Remember that the early drafts are kind of crazy sometimes and often aren’t canonical to Tolkien’s later writings. It’s pretty great. 

  • Lungorthin was a balrog and Melkor’s Master of the Guard. He spent most of his time in Angband’s throne room, guarding his master. Why does a Vala need to be guarded by a less powerful being? Paranoia I guess. Lungorthin’s claim to fame is that he burns with white flames, rather than red ones like regular Balrogs. Since white flames are hotter than red ones, Lungorthin seems like an extra special kind of evil you should definitely avoid.
  • Langon was the herald of Melkor who was sent to negotiate with the Valar when they besieged Utumno in the Book of Lost Tales. Probably had a great voice.
  • Fankil - a proto-Sauron figure from the early outlines, he was Melkor’s lieutenant and the leader of dark armies in the East (Palisor). After Melkor was imprisoned, Fankil started corrupting the first Men with his Dwarves (who were evil at the time) and goblins, turning them against the elves, and starting the first war between Elves and goblins. In an even earlier version, he and his evil dwarves conquered Palisor. 
  • Fluithin or Ulbandi the Ogress. What’s an Ogre? In the early drafts, a race of cannibal giants. In later versions they don’t appear except in tales, and were probably either a mythological race, or possibly another name for trolls. I prefer to think of ogres as prototype trolls myself. Fluithin is from the earliest drafts, which were pretty weird, and in that version the Ainur had children and behaved more like pagan gods. Fluithin had a child with Morgoth, and that is literally all we know about her.
  • Kosomot/Kalimbo - the earliest version of Gothmog the Balrog, where he was the giant ogre son of Morgoth and Fluithin the Ogress and wasn’t on fire.
  • Tevildo, Prince of Cats. Certified children’s book villain. A great black cat with a collar of gold who ruled a castle full of giant cats. What did Tolkien have against cats anyway? Beren is sent to Tevildo when he’s captured by Melkor, and Huan and Tinúviel defeat Tevildo, free Beren, cast down his castle and turn all his cats regular size. Several rewrites later, Tevildo eventually becomes Sauron. Yes. Sauron was originally a giant magic cat.
5

Through fire… and water… From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought him, the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last, I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me. And I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead and everyday was as long as a life-age of the earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again. I have been sent back, until my task is done

My favorite book Legolas moment - hands down - is his reaction to the Balrog.  You may remember his steely-eyed gaze and silent awe/slight fear from the movies.  Legolas is often the silent staring type in the movies.  That’s his Appeal™.

However, book Legolas reacts a lil bit differently…

“Legolas turned and set an arrow to the string, though it was a long shot for his small bow. He drew, but his hand fell, and the arrow slipped to the ground. He gave a cry of dismay and fear. 

Then with a rush it leaped across the fissure. The flames roared up to greet it, and wreathed about it; and a black smoke swirled in the air. Its streaming mane kindled, and blazed behind it. In its right hand was a blade like a stabbing tongue of fire; in its left it held a whip of many thongs.‘Ai! ai! ’ wailed Legolas. 'A Balrog! A Balrog is come!'”

Yeah that’s right, he drops his arrow and starts screaming.  Sweet gentle Legolas is easily frightened by demons from the pit, okay?

(Sidenote: Gimli also screams and drops his axe so at least Legolas isn’t alone)

Who should you fight: The Company of Thorin Oakenshield

There is now a ‘who you should fuck’ companion to this post, for those who want to make love not war.

Balin: Dude survived the fall of Erebor, Azanulbizar, and Thorin’s quest. He survived Smaug twice. It took Moria to take him down, and there was a fucking Balrog in there. Are you Gandalf? Are you as strong as a Balrog? Of course not. Do not fight.

Dwalin: Just look at this guy. He is just waiting for an excuse to feed someone a knuckleduster sandwich. Do not give him a reason to. Death itself looks at Dwalin and thinks ‘I’m not really up to that today’. Do not fight.

Oin: He’s deaf, so you might have the upper hand briefly if you sneak up on him, but that’s not going to last long. He’s a tough old warrior and he’s seen far worse than you. He’ll defeat you and complain loudly about disrespectful youth the entire time. Do not fight.

Gloin: Do you think fighting Gimli’s daddy is going to end well for you? He’s going to kick your ass and charge you interest for it. Do not fight.

Bifur: The axe couldn’t take him out, do you really think you can? Do not fight.

Bofur: Why do you want to fight Bofur? Do you hate happiness? Doesn’t matter anyways, you’re not gonna win. He’s got hella muscles from mining and he’s vicious with that mattock. He’ll probably buy you a beer afterward and then you’ll feel like an ass. Do not fight.

Bombur: Dude is barrel whirlwind of axes and death. He is a tank. He could take you out with nothing but his battle spoon. Do not fight.

Dori: He might seem like an easy target, with his fussy nature and delicate manners, but beneath that elegance lies the strongest Dwarf of the Company. Will kick your ass and make you feel like a clod for making him do it. Do not fight.

Nori: I get why you want to, really. He probably stole something of yours, and he doesn’t look all that intimidating, but trust me. No. Any attempt to fight him is going to earn you a knife somewhere uncomfortable. Do not fight.

Ori: You want to fight Ori? You look at this tiny muffin, this sweet nerdling with his little scarf and his little quill, and you want to fight him? That is not going to end well for you. Beneath that soft exterior lies surprising strength. If you really make him, he’ll grab up some improbably sized weapon and go to town. And that’s if you’re lucky and his brothers don’t get you first. Do not fight. 

Fili: Did you see how many knives this ray of sunshine had on him? This guy is a well armed and highly skilled warrior. Do not fight.

Kili: With those puppy dog eyes you really want to fight him? Really? I mean, go ahead you monster, but it’s not going to end well for you. Dude is fuckin’ fearless. Do not fight.

Thorin Oakenshield: After all canon put him through you still want to fight this guy? This guy got used as a warg matriarch’s chewy-toy and just shook it off. This guy is going to kick your ass and then stare into the distance and sigh dramatically while his luscious locks flow in the wind. He kicks your ass and comes out the other side even more majestic. Do not fight.

Bonus Round - Bilbo Baggins: He seems like an easy target, but wait up. Look at his success rate vs really strong foes including THE ONE FUCKING RING. Do not fight. Do not risk it.

TL:DR - do not fight the Company of Thorin. Your flabby human ass does not stand a chance.

Balrog-slayer: a new word

I’m about to talk about Glorfindel again, though this time with Ecthelion. Maybe it’s just me, or maybe I’ve missed any and all fanfiction containing it, but I’ve always felt like there’s been something lacking overall in the stories/conversations revolving around the subject of them being Balrog-slayers. And that something is the fact that they became Balrog-slayers at all.

Don’t confuse what I’m saying here. I’m not talking about the laud and acclamation they get from people. I’m talking about the surprise or disbelief or outright shock those people must have exhibited when hearing about their deeds, at the mere concept of a Balrog being killed at all, let alone two of them over the span of a day. You don’t see that in fanfic (at least I never have). You see the first part of what I said aplenty (and I love it), but not the second.

Think about it. Prior to the fall of Gondolin it was probably believed by all and sundry, be he Elf, Dwarf or Man that Balrogs were undefeatable. That it was impossible to assail them, let alone kill them. Every single person who’s had the misfortune of fighting a Balrog has died as a result, with said Balrog happily moving along to the next poor Elf. Even mighty Feanor himself (that was probably a clincher in itself to establishing the terror of Balrogs). Centuries go by and still no one could kill these things. I mean, they always win! Every single time. It’s no wonder they were so feared in Beleriand, so dreaded by everyone. Part of me wonders if it actually got to a point of belief among some people that Balrogs literally couldn’t be killed, at least not by any creature not among the Ainur.

But Glorfindel and Ecthelion did.

That news had to be so momentous, so earth-shattering and ground-breaking that yeah, I wholeheartedly believe that the feats of these two new heroes spread like wildfire.  

I would sincerely love to read a story about Tuor’s people coming into Sirion straight from the crags of the Echoriath. Unless by messenger or Cirdan receiving word from the waters, no one knew that Gondolin had fallen yet until Tuor and Idril and all those survivors arrived. And with them came the account of how it happened, detailing of how Orcs and Balrogs attacked their city. And then the audience hears that two of those Balrogs were killed. Killed. Solely by two Elves. Can you imagine the hope that must’ve inspired in everyone? Especially at such a time when everyone’s home was being destroyed? That whoa, Morgoth’s deadliest creatures can actually be defeated. We actually can beat them.

Because before this point, killing a Balrog was unheard of. I mean, face it, the very term Balrog-slayer wasn’t even a term (it certainly never existed in anyone’s vocabulary). And for over two whole Ages they are the only two people to achieve such a feat until a certain bridge in Khazad-dum. Glorfindel and Ecthelion are the only two mirroanwi in all of recorded history to do it.

Believe me, I’m not discrediting or demeaning any other hero of the legendarium or lessening whatever heroic actions they had done (including the unnamed heroes). It just makes sense why those two went down in history as greatly as they did, why they are so admired and renowned. They did what should’ve been impossible.

Seriously, I would love to read a fic about the Gondolin refugees arriving in Sirion, when Glorfindel’s and Ecthelion’s stories are told for the first time. Or later of someone attending the Feast of Glorfindel and hearing about it there. I love imagining what peoples’ initial reactions must’ve been. It’s no wonder songs were composed about it.

You know, writing about this really makes me wonder what Morgoth and/or Sauron thought about this when word reached them. There were only seven Balrogs and now two of them are dead (one of them their general), and at the hands of two random Elves. Losing two of those specific Umaiar must’ve been a blow, but it had to have been a blow all on its own that they were killed at all. What did they think? How must’ve they responded? Like “yay! Gondolin’s dead!” but “WHAT?!” I’d hate to be the sucker that had to report that to them.

Maybe it was similar to the response garnered from Fingolfin’s duel with Morgoth. In that yes! victory was theirs, but instead of jubilation there was resounding silence.

Head Down Through The Storm: The Miracle of THE EDGE OF THE ABYSS

The Edge of the Abyss is out, and today feels surreal. It feels like it shouldn’t be happening, that it already should have happened, and like it’s happening in some weird twisted parallel universe. Part of that is probably on account of the fact that I’m pretty sick right now. 

A large part of that is because the fact that The Edge of the Abyss made it to shelves is an honest miracle.

The Abyss Surrounds Us did really well—I’m eternally grateful for that—and under normal circumstances, there would have been no reason for it not to have a sequel. But circumstances were not normal. By the time TASU hit shelves, my imprint was in the long, slow, agonizing process of shutting down. We watched this process with breaths held until finally, one day in May, we got the official word.

The sums were not favorable. Book Two was cancelled.

When the email hit my inbox, I got on the phone with my agent. We had a calm conversation about our options. I felt… nothing. I felt like I had been waiting for this, and now the moment I knew was coming had finally arrived. The only thought in my head was “Well, this is happening. Time to deal with it.” We decided to fight to get the rights to both books back from the publisher, and that was that.

It was numbing. At that point, HULLMETAL GIRLS was languishing on sub, and I felt like a Problem Child. I felt like the door was closing. And I felt like I should have been more upset about it, but there I was, an unemployed postgrad living with my parents, and part of me thought it seemed fair that my life as an author was going that way too.

I kept my head down through the storm. Kept deflecting questions about the sequel. Kept writing other projects. Kept praying for HULLMETAL GIRLS. Moved to LA in two suitcases and started hacking it on my own. And then, suddenly, one day in July, I noticed that my imprint appeared to be under new ownership. Flux the Grey had gone down with the Balrog, and suddenly here was Flux the White, still in possession of my contract. 

Fortunately, Flux the White intended to continue putting books out. And they needed something to relaunch the imprint. Something already contracted, maybe? Something with an unreasonably large following for the tiny small press book that it is? “Why don’t we take a look at this sequel?” they said.

“Oh hell yes,” said me and my agent.

We got the word in September—it was on. And they wanted to move fast. For context, The Abyss Surrounds Us was bought in September 2014, edited between December 2014 and April 2015, and published in February 2016. The Edge of the Abyss was edited between October 2016 and December 2016 and published in April 2017. That’s breakneck for publishing, but it was thrilling for me, finally finally finally getting to put this book out in the world.

And now, against all odds, it’s here. And I’m so, so happy I get to share it with you.

❤️🐙

okay everyone but consider: glorfindel comes on the quest of erebor!au

  • “I HAVEN’T SEEN DWARVES IN AGES” “glorfindel pls calm down” “OH MY GOD LOOK AT THIS ONE? HE LOOKS JUST LIKE DURIN IV????” “yes glorfindel that’s great but the rest of us don’t bother to learn dwarf family trees so we have no idea who you are talking about. also that one is snarling maybe you should put him down????”
  • glorfindel training bilbo how to fight 
  • thorin being like “we cannot take *unexperienced* warriors on this quest” “i killed a balrog” “wait WHAT”
  • fili and kili and practically all the dwarves hero-worshipping him
  • glorfindel and bilbo talking in sindarin
  • “so you’ve actually killed dragons?” “nah man that’s thranduil i heard he killed like 27 in the war of the wrath” “WHAT”
  • okay but glorfindel showing up in mirkwood and is chatting up all the elves when they (almost) get captured 
  • legolas is fanboying. a little. okay a lot.
  • glorfindel and thranduil chatting it up while the dwarves are like “eXCUSE ME WE ARE IN CHAINS”
  • glorfindel hiding in a barrel as they go into laketown (somebody draw this please)
  • glorfindel telling the bardlings stories
  • “we should pour gold on the dragon” “no that’s a stupid fuckign idea bro. let’s shoot it” “well alright then”
All Is Well in Lorien

Legolas x Reader

Loosely based off this from @imaginelegolas :

Imagine nervously telling Legolas your deepest fears, and having him comfort you over them


You turn away and slip through the trees. Galadriel is still talking to the fellowship, but you will not be missed. The news the fellowship brought is dire, a balrog hadn’t been seen for centuries and even hearing the name brings a shadow to your heart. It was fighting one of these creatures that your father died long ago. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. Immediately, flames, shadow, cries of terror flood your vision. Your eyes fly open and you stifle a cry. You thought you’d been rid of these visions for hundreds of years now. Who knew how long they’ll take to disappear this time?

You attempt to banish such thoughts from your mind and stare at the landscape around you. The moonlight flickers lightly through the golden leaves above, reflecting off the silver tree trunks. It is a sight to behold, though you find you’re thirsting to explore the other regions of middle earth again. As darkness covers the land, chances to do so are getting slimmer and slimmer. You don’t like to travel alone and your brothers, your usual travel companions, are busy guarding the realm against the increasingly common orks. For now, you suppose, you’ll have to settle for Lothlorien. The sight is beautiful after all, and if recent tales are true, even Lorien won’t be able to stand for much longer.

You turn to continue walking, trying not to close your eyes for long lest the visions take you again. You are so lost in concentration you barely notice as you pass a figure leaning against a tree.

“What troubles you?” a calm voice asks.

You start and turn back to the figure, then relax. It is Legolas of Mirkwood. Galadriel must have finished speaking to the fellowship. You shake your head, “It is nothing.”

Legolas straightens and takes a step closer to you, “I have seen many with your manner before. It is rarely nothing.”

You sigh and try to relax your shoulders, “It really is, my lord. I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“My lord?” Legolas tilts his head in confusion.

“You are a prince of Mirkwood, are you not? What else am I to call you?”

Legolas shrugs, “Simply… Legolas will suffice. What should I call you?”

“My name is (y/n).”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Now, to your earlier statement, it would be no trouble to me. Please, you are in pain.”

You sigh, “Your fellowship’s coming has brought a shadow on our forest. A balrog has awoken in Moria. I can’t say that doesn’t bring back old horrors to my mind.” You close your eyes again and shudder as the balrog’s fiery whip flashes before you.

“You have ill memories of this creature?”

“My father fell slaying one such beast. I was very young. I can only recall brief flashes, but they lurk in the shadows of my mind and grow till I can no more close my eyes without seeing them. In the worst of days they play before me even in my waking hours.” You press your eyes closed and a tear slips down your cheek. Your eyes fly open a second later as a gentle hand wipes it away.

“I am sorry our coming has brought this upon you.”

The tears begin to come faster now and Legolas hesitantly reaches out and pulls you toward his chest.

You wrap your arms around him and rest your head upon his shoulder, glad for the comfort. Legolas holds you tightly and silently.

Eventually as the tears slow, he speaks, “A balrog has awoken, it is true. But fear not, all is yet well in Lorien. A great wizard fell with the balrog into the chasm and I do not doubt there will be quite a battle before the end. Gandalf knows the plight of middle earth and has likely done all he can to prevent the balrog’s return. You also are under the protection of the Lady Galadriel. She will not let Lothlorien fall.”

Legolas lapses into silence and you breath deeply. His words are sincere, though based on uncertainty. Still, you find you are feeling better. Your tears begin to dry and your breathing returns to normal. Finally you relax and Legolas and you pull apart.

“Thank you,” you say softly.

Legolas smiles, “I hope my words have been of some comfort, though I’m afraid I must be off. The others will be wondering where I am.”

You nod and watch as he slips through the trees and is lost in the moonlight.

The night air blows softly in the breeze and you rub your eyes, suddenly tired. You glance to the left as you catch the nearly imperceptible footprints of an approaching elf. The elf steps through the trees and you recognize your brother, Indrilen.

“Hail, Brother.”

Indrilen nods and raises a hand in greeting.

“How are the borders?”

He shrugs, “Nothing significant, save our visitors. Did you have company? I thought I saw another figure from afar.”

You consider for a second, deciding there is no reason to hide the truth, “Legolas. He was out admiring the trees.”

Indrilen raises an eyebrow, “Of course. I’m sure that’s all he was admiring.”

You roll your eyes and give your brother a playful shove, “He was only being nice.”

“Oh! What did he say?”

“Nothing of the sort you’re thinking! We barely spoke,” you feel your cheeks become warm and you turn away, rubbing your tired eyes. As you close your eyes, you frown. This time, you see no vision of balrog fire. Instead, you find yourself staring at Him. You clearly see his straight blond hair and blue eyes. You also see his shy smile and strong shoulders. Confused, you blink and turn back toward your brother.

Indrilen laughs and shakes his head before noticing your serious expression, “Have the visions returned to you as well? Aerin retired early from the watch today.”

You bit your lip, remembering your older brother. Aerin had probably felt your father’s death the hardest and always had suffered the visions worst of all your siblings. “Yes… though they aren’t … bothering me currently.” You say hesitantly, still wondering at the change in visions.

“You are fortunate.” Indrilen sighs tiredly, “I’m afraid they’ve returned badly for me. I must rest now before they get any worse.”

You nod, distracted. “Tired though I am, I have much to think on. I will return to our telian later and I’ll try not to disturb you.”

“That is fine, though I’d feel better if you did not stay awake too long.”

“I am no longer a child, Indrilen.” You sigh. Indrilen is several hundred years older than you, but you have long since outgrown the need for supervision. “If it really means that much to you, then I will stay out but an hour.”

Indrilen nods and turns to leave. He walks silently and lightly, leaving behind no footprints.

Once he is gone you turn away and begin a walk of your own. You follow a familiar trail, barely noting the landscape around you. You pass several other elves as they wander, but pay them no attention. When finally you stop, you’ve gone quite a distance and are standing on the edge of a clearing where the trees still hide you in shadow.

On the other end of the clearing, the fellowship is ascending into the trees to sleep. The hobbits appear nervous to be so far off the ground, but Legolas climbs with ease. You watch them for a time, smiling at their interactions before you turn away. The fellowship have been through so much together and will need to rest in Lothlorien for a little while before they move on. Surprisingly, you now find yourself dreading the day they have to leave. When their coming had at first brought you so much grief. Shaking your head, you begin back the way you’d come. It’s amazing how much one encounter can change everything.

Maedhros V Balrog snippet

As the pale mist began to clear, curling away in thin streams and tendrils,  the watchers on the road could see bodies strewn along the road — dwarves and orcs and men — and a force of black-armoured orcs still holding together, pressing on.  At the head of them, emerging from the clearing mist was a great dark figure filled with flame and terror, carrying a red sword and a fiery whip.  

Maedhros stepped forward. “Turn back!” he shouted.  “Turn back!  Thargelion is under the protection of the Sons of Fëanor. There is no place here for the servants of the Enemy.”

The Balrog turned to him and laughed like roaring flame. “I see an escaped thrall,” it said. “Have we still not punished thee enough, slave?  Thou cravest yet another whipping?”

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Balrog vs. "Wall of Stone"

So this is one of our first session with new characters. We were going to check out this portal in a Northern Tundra.

After slaying many hoards of monsters one of our druids cast Wall of Stone in front of the finished portal to stop anything from just walking out.

Well, the evil wizard calls something from the portal. We are killing more hoards while this is happening. Finally the Balrog is summoned and gets thru the Wall of Stone.

The Balrog teleportation out to get closer. The same druid that blocked the portals comes up with a brilliant idea. He cast Wall of Stone again, but instead of creating a “wall” he used it to make a column. This column was 120ft directly above the Balrog. The DM proceeded to roll a low Dex save as 75,000 lbs of stone came crashing down on the Balrog head to kill him instantly. Our DM was dumbfounded.

The Magicians as LoTR Characters

With a little help from the fine folks of FTB, we present: The Lord of the Rings AU no one asked for 

Eliot
He’s an elf. Legolas, probably. Them Mirkwood elves love to get down. 

Margo
A dwarf. Short, angry, and obsessed with shiny things. Real life Gimli/Legolas with Eliot, including body count. 

Quentin
A hobbit. Short, sad, a little pathetic, but tries real hard. 

Penny
Gandalf. Always fucking off to find some information, but occasionally extremely unhelpful in how he distributes this knowledge. 

Julia
Eowyn. Do not fuck with her. You will die. 

Alice
Galadriel. Much more interested in books and knowledge than people. A little bit ethereal, a little bit bitchy. Don’t fuck with her either. 

Martin Chatwin
The Balrog. Annoying, temporarily decreased Gandalf/Penny’s power, but can be defeated. 

A made-up timeline for the War of Wrath

I think the Battle of Tasarinan, the long struggle for control of the Gates of Sirion, the breaking of Thangorodrim, the Vanyar & Noldor hosts, the participation of the Edain and Dwarves, Elros & Elrond’s ages and the Vanyar mysteriously deciding to walk home at the end are the only more or less canon bits. 

Keep reading

Calm down, Thorin!

This is a fic for What if…? -challenge by awsome @sdavid09

Summary: What if Thorin went overboard when preparing for his child to be born?

Pairing: Thorin x Reader

Words: 1883

Authors note: The due day for these What if?- fics were about a week ago, but I got time to write it just this weekend, so sorry it’s a bit late. ^^’


You were walking around the room, Dis by your side. You were holding your swallowed stomach and took a fragile breath. Another wave of reduction cut through you. You stopped, closing your eyes and trying to hold yourself together.

“Is this really suppose to hurt?” you breathed out, opening your eyes and glancing to your friend. She smiled sadly to you and caressed your upper back. Just then your husband burst into the room and stopped to stare at you and his sister.

“The babe?” he asked, looking between you two. Dis sighed and guided you back to the bed.

“Still on his way. Besides, how’d ye get here before the healers?” she asked as you set yourself to sit on the bed. Thorin stepped next to the bed, setting the billows comfy behind you. You gave a small smile to him as he sat next to you, taking your hand in his.

“… I ran all the way here” Thorin said, turning to look at Dis. Her brows rose.

“… You ran? From the council room?” Dis questioned, grossing her arms. Thorin gave a futile nod, glanced her sister and then you. “Mahal, Thorin, even healer’s wing is closer than council’s room! You personally made sure that (Y/n) would stay close to it until the babe would be born!” Thorin sighed and rubbed his face with his other hand.

“Aye, I… I did that” he murmured. Dis sighed and shook her head. You let out a whine, when strong pulse of reduction hit you again. Thorin moved right next to you and started to caress your temple, seeming to be rather nervous. Some time went on and on and on and on…. You didn’t know how long, since you tried to focus on the pain and your child. And your husband, who usually was so calm in any situation. Yet, now he was more nervous than a newly wed dwarfling in his wedding night.

“Oh for Mahal’s sake, where are the midwife’s, Thorin?!” Dis finally snapped, after she had walked around the room. As more time has passed, the more she seemed like she would dig someones eyes out. And now Thorin might be her target.

“They were gossiping like little pigs the other day… about… nasty things. So I fired them, gave them lower job” Thorin said, eyeing you. You knew they were talking about you. You had heard it, few times. Thorin had heard it too, and now those dwarrowdam’s had to pay for the consequences. Not that they were the first ones to talk about you, a mere human who had married a king. There had been many and would always be the ones who would be talking, whispering among themselves. You knew this, Balin had told you this, as had Dis, Thorin and your loyal maid, who was in her own apartment. Poor lady had gotten sick, a pneumonia Oin had told. Dis’ maid hated you, Thorin didn’t let her maid to help you for whatever weird reason he had made up and Thorin literally couldn’t take any other made to help his first child’s birth. Not even if he’d have to be alone here with you. You closed your eyes, too tired to think the outside world. Your baby was finally coming out from your womb, Thorin was acting out of his character and Dis was about to murder someone for the first time while you had known her.

You hear how Dis sigh. Then heavy steps. And soon after the bed pent down as she sat beside you. She took your hand and stroked your hair, causing you to open your eyes and turn to look at her. Dis was looking at you, determinedly yet sadly.  

“She needs extra hands to help the little one out, Thorin” Dis said, turning to look at her brother. He nodded, slowly, and stayed quiet for a minute.

“I talked to Oin the other day. I wanted him to be in attendance when the babe would born. I also set him to pick the midwives who wouldn’t stand against the queen. Who would do their job as if she was any other dwarrowdam giving a birth” Thorin murmured, staring at emptiness. Dis frowned. You frowned. The both of you turned to Thorin at the same time, looking at him curiously. So he had thought of some sort of plan?

“And where the Hell is Oin and these midwives of his?” you asked. Thorin turned to look at you, his eyes sad and hopeless. He didn’t answer, yet you knew the answer already. He didn’t know where the old healer was. Or where the midwives were.

“I’ll send Dwalin to fetch ‘em” Dis murmured, standing up and moving towards the door. The grumpy dwarf was guarding besides the door with other grumpy, loyal guarding dwarf, Fongas. Dis opened the door, said something and after few murmured words Dwalin set out to look for the old healer. Yet again, another wave of pain hit you. You sighed, clasping to Thorin’s hand. He held still, keeping your hand sternly and caressing your hair, forehead and temple, murmuring silent encouragement to you. Dis sat beside you, taking your hand and leaning to the the pillows beside you. Time passed on, again, and you had no idea how long. Half an hour? Hour? Probably even more.

And finally, the door opened and Oin stepped in, two midwife behind him. Dwalin popped behind them, looking firmly at you, then Thorin.

“Thorin, ye… Ye have to come out of the room fo’ now. Leave (Y/n) for Oin and yer sister’s care” Dwalin said, looking at his friend. Thorin turned to him, looking like he’d cut Dwalin’s beard if he’d say it again.

“No. My place is by my wife’s side” Thorin said and turned back to you. Dwalin sighed and called out Thorin. Even Dis looked at Thorin as if he should leave the room. You turned to look at him, being probably the only one who wished him to stay. And as if Thorin knew what you wished, he set himself beside you even better and kissed your temple. Then he addressed the room.

“I’m staying with my wife. End of discussion” he said, his voice and authority not giving anyone in the room any room for objects. Dwalin only nodded, not even glancing to Dis or Oin. He had seen your silent plea and heard Thorin’s decision. That was all he needed.The door closed and the door was left in silence, as everyone neither looked at you and Thorin or the door.

“Well then, let’s get the lad out” Oin finally sighed and turned to you and Thorin. Thorin nodded, stern look on his face. Oin and the two midwives, old and experienced Mura who really didn’t care about mother’s status, and younger and lesser experienced Keren. These three were all you needed. Besides your husband and Dis. You looked at your husband, happy to have him by your side. But little did you know, how horrible he started to turn as more time started to pass by.

You had opened more than any average first-time breeder. This was what Mura and Oin both said. Thorin got mad at them to connect you at the other birth giving women. He almost throw those two out because of this, but Dis’ snarl made him to let them stay. For now.

After sitting a little more than half an hour beside you, Thorin started to walk around the room, all by himself. You wanted to take a little walk yourself, and even Mura and Keren suggested it, but Thorin forbid it. You would be lying on the bed Mahal know how many hours. You would be on the bed even after your child would be born, you knew it. Thorin wouldn’t let you get up no matter what.

Then when you started to whine how you needed to move, Karen suggested that maybe you should change your position. Thorin was ready to throw her out for that comment. He thought moving you would harm the baby. But when Dis snapped to him, how moving around and being in other position’s would help you and made you feel more comfortable, he complied. And so you were moved to other position, thought Thorin was complaining how Oin, Keren and Dis were moving you wrong. Dis shot a warning glance to his brother, who just shrugged it off.

The rest of the 14 hours went like this. Whatever anyone else besides you did, Thorin almost lost his temper and was about to throw them out. Few times he even threatened to call the guard’s to take his sister or Oin or midwives out. Mura and Keren were most of his temper’s target’s. They needed only to look at each other for Thorin to assume that they were hating you, plotting to hurt his son or share any gossip among the other ladies as soon as the’d be out of the room. But the only thing these two would be gossiping would be Thorin’s behavior and the calmness of the queen. It was well known how the mother’s would be acting when giving a birth, but you were calm like the river. And Thorin was like Balrog at her period. Well, literally.

When it was time for you to push the babe out, Keren had taken your hand to support you. Thorin almost lost his shit and was about to throw her out to even think about to touch you, when you snapped.

“THORIN, SON OF THRAIN, SON OF THOR! The next one who leave’s from the room is you if you do not shut your mouth! I’ve had enough of your shit for the week! So sit down and help me to push the lad out or go do your kingly duty, for all I care!” you shouted. Your statement came out even harder than you meant, but you were so angry. And tired. Thorin had taken it too far. He had overreacted literally to everything and it pissed you off. The people in the room tried to help you and he made it hard to all of you, which was in fact a miracle that none of you hadn’t lost your mind.

And one miracle did happen for that night. Thorin did shut up. He sat next to you, replacing Dis. He held your hand, stroked your hair and kissed your temple. But he didn’t crank, didn’t act all nervous and didn’t threaten to throw everyone out, even you were sure he wanted to. And one hour later, you had a little baby in your arms.

“Finally…” you sighed and stroked the babes smooth, round cheek. Thorin was leaning to your left side, looking down at your little child, smiling and crying at the same time.

“Aye… She’s so beautiful, like 'er mother” Thorin whispered, a sob finishing his sentence. You turned to look at him, smiling. First he was acting like a Balrog and now he was like crybaby. This was the first and the last time you saw him act like this. The next time you gave birth for another baby girl, Thorin was acting more collected and wasn’t shouting as much as the first time.

what if ... the Battle of Azanulbizar

We all know about the Battle that claimed the life of King Thror, his youngest grandson, Frerin, and countless other members of Durin’s Folk.

But … what if …

They didn’t lose the battle?

Thror was killed but Thorin and Dain, together, killed Azog AND Bolg?  what if the Dwarrow drove the hordes of Orcs and Goblins back into the mountain and over the edge of the crevasse and there the foul creatures fell … never to rise out of the depths again.

Thorin eventually becomes King but the kingdom is never truly theirs … Durin’s Bane still lurks within and the Dwarrow always live on the fringe, harvesting only enough Mithril to survive but not enough to be truly rich.

Eventually, it comes to a head and something must be done!  The Elves of Lothlorien cannot allow such a thing to remain in the world, and summon both Saruman and Gandalf to deal with the situation, as it is too much for the Dwarrow to do alone.

Saruman brings great magic but states that it cannot be done and it would be better for the Dwarrow to abandon Khazad-dum and then bring the mountain down, around the beast and seal it in the depths from which it came.

Gandalf, on the other hand, brings a small being, a Hobbit … Bilbo Baggins … with the idea that, unlike the Dwarrow, the Balrog will have no idea with this being is and, seeking to understand it, will be drawn out by the Hobbit.   The idea is that Bilbo is far faster than Dwarrow and more sneaky, and will led the Balrog to the Bridge, where Gandalf will be waiting to send the beast to the depths.

Of course, King Thorin does not wish for outsiders to assist .. being distrustful of the Elves, who he feels added to the loss of Erebor and his people’s current condition.  But agrees to let Gandalf and his … half-ling … try their best.  But Thorin will still go with them … not wishing to let outsiders roam freely through his kingdom … and over time, comes to understand and appreciate the Hobbit, for who he sees as a worthy companion.

in the end, Gandalf sacrifices himself to kill the Balrog, once and for all, and by the time he is sent back … for Sauron has risen in the East … he is greeted by the King and Consort of the thriving kingdom of Khazad-dum … and Thorin gladly gives aid to the other free people in an effort to destroy Sauron once and for all.

You’re Mine. I Don’t Share (Glorfindel x Reader)

Prompt: You’re mine. I don’t share.

Pairing: Glorfindel x reader

Warnings: none????

Requested by: Nonnie


“Are you okay?” you ask your husband, Glorfindel, who’s currently sulking in his room. Lord Elrond invited diplomats to represent each race in Middle Earth to attend his secret council about the One Ring. Since the first arrivals, Glorfindel seemed different, more reserved than usual. His hair even appeared dimmer in color. 

“Why do they do that?” he vaguely says. You sit down beside him on the bed, taking his large hand in yours and resting your head on his broad shoulder. 

“Do what?” you ask him, tracing patterns into the palm of his hand.

“Think they have a chance,” he answers his vague answer with…another vague answer. Lifting his hand and kissing his wrist, you then put your hand under his chin to turn it so he’s looking at you. 

“Who?” you ask him, growing tired of how nonspecific he was being. 

“The Men of Gondor.” he tells you. Then it hits you like a ton of bricks, your eyes widening almost comically. He was jealous. Glorfindel, the twice-born Balrog Slayer, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower is jealous of some diplomats from Gondor. It explained why he treated them so coldly. Usually, Glorfindel welcomed guests warmly, unless they angered him somehow. Even then he’s shown more courtesy then he’d been showing the visiting Men. A gasp escapes from you as you remove your hand from his face and clamber to straddle his hips.

“Oh. My. Gosh.” you punctuate each word by poking his chest. “You’re jealous of the diplomats from Gondor. You! The mighty and great Glorfindel.” You bend down and kiss him on the lips. “Why would ever be jealous of them?” a wide smile on your lips, a matching one beginning to grow on his face.

“It is silly isn’t it?” he muses out loud. A giggle escapes your throat as Glorfindel leans up and places a kiss on your lips, then moves his mouth to your ear. “How about we show them that your mine and I don’t intend to share,” he whispers seductively in your ear. A shiver runs down your spine as his warm breath moves from your ear down your neck, where he bites down.

Again with Glorfindel’s death

I want to add another reason to my previous post as to why Glorfindel’s death sucked. Because his death sucked. Like, really sucked, and not just because he was that close to surviving that duel. Because can we just recognize how thoroughly Glorfindel killed that thing? I’ve heard/read posts and whatnot about this fight, like when a new fan has a question about it, right? Some explain that Glorfindel fought the Balrog and the Balrog fell off a cliff, taking Glorfindel with him. That they both died from the fall when they hit the bottom of the chasm. That Glorfindel drove the Balrog back to the edge of the cliff until it fell, so it was fortunate they were fighting on top of crag and not a field or something. That yes, Glorfindel was an epically skilled warrior, but that the fall off the cliff is what killed the Balrog. But you know what, in Glorfindel’s defense, I want to debunk that. Because that Balrog would have died regardless if it fell or not. And because, mainly, it’s NOT TRUE. In short, that fiery demon was royally screwed. 

For one thing, in the dynamics of that particular fight, Glorfindel was the instigator of that duel, not the Balrog: 


“…that Balrog that was with the rearward foe leapt with great might on certain lofty rocks that stood into the path on the left side upon the lip of the chasm, and thence with a leap of fury he was past Glorfindel’s men and among the women and the sick in front, lashing with his whip of flame. Then Glorfindel leapt forward upon him and his golden armour gleamed strangely in the moon, and he hewed at that demon that it leapt again upon a great boulder and Glorfindel after.”
 

The Balrog didn’t confront Glorfindel. Glorfindel confronted it. And not only that, but the Balrog was actually trying to get away from him. The aggression and fight that Glorfindel faced it with was intense and frightening enough that he forced the Balrog to yield ground, forcing it up higher on the pinnacle. 


“Now there was a deadly combat upon that high rock above the folk; and these, pressed behind and hindered ahead, were grown so close that well nigh all could see, yet it was over ere Glorfindel’s men could leap to his side. The ardour of Glorfindel drave that Balrog from point to point, and his mail fended him from its whip and claw.”
 

So begins the infamous “deadly combat” of this duel on the mountain peak. It was a fast fight as far as such things are measured and everyone could see it as Glorfindel was giving it his all. And his skill and “ardor” were as such that the Balrog was being driven wherever Glorfindel forced him to move, no matter how much whip and claw and who knows what else he was being attacked with. 

(On a side note, could Tolkien have described a more cinematically epic battle? There is a lot of delicious epicness in regards to battles/duels fought in the Silmarillion, but in terms of how an epic showdown is often brought to life on the big screen, I don’t think Tolkien could have gone more out than what he did with Glorfindel; alone on top of a mountain peak, dueling with a fiery monstrosity while everyone’s literally just looking up from below, watching him) 


“Now had he beaten a heavy swinge upon its iron helm, now hewn off the creature’s whip-arm at the elbow.”
 

Not only do we have a head wound, but also an arm amputation, one right after the other. What heathen roar did the Balrog unleash when Glorfindel cut off its arm? Can the refugees of Gondolin who were watching still hear the echoes of it? 


“Then sprang the Balrog in the torment of his pain and fear full at Glorfindel, who stabbed like a dart of a snake; but he found only a shoulder, and was grappled, and they swayed to a fall upon the crag-top.”
 

Okay, so at this point of losing its arm, the Balrog is actually now terrified of this Elf, who apparently could move so fast and deadly that it couldn’t compensate, particularly after the loss of its infamous whip-arm. (Does a Balrog have blood, by the way? Is there anything falling out of its arm? Dripping magma, maybe? Unimportant.) Taking who is who into account, it’s clear that it was Glorfindel who “found only a shoulder” and that he himself “was grappled” in turn. So he manages to take hold of the Balrog again, despite that the demon was springing away from him, and that while he had the Balrog’s shoulder, the Balrog managed to seize him. That’s what “grapple” means, to seize another or each other in a firm grip, like in wrestling where you engage in close quarters. 

So in this stage of the duel, Glorfindel somehow got the Balrog’s shoulder, but it involved somehow seizing it. My theory is that he stabbed his sword deep enough into (or through) the Balrog’s shoulder that the sword caught there, twisting in his grip and causing the demon even more torment and that he couldn’t wrestle the sword free while they “swayed” literally body to body in a vicious wrestling match on top of the pinnacle. It’s plausible this was the case because it’s customary during any fight to stay outside of your enemy’s reach, and so when Glorfindel couldn’t pull his sword free from its shoulder, he found himself now wrestling with the Balrog that his caught sword now brought him in close quarters with. I say this because, as we see in the next verse, his right hand and sword were no longer available. 

And oh man, this next verse…talk about the final nail in the coffin. 


“Then Glorfindel’s left hand sought a dirk, and this he thrust up that it pierced the Balrog’s belly nigh his own face (for that demon was double his stature); and it shrieked, and fell backwards from the rock…”
 

Imagine that, if you will. A dirk is a long thrusting dagger, and Glorfindel shoved this thing so far up the Balrog’s torso that it almost went into his face. From belly to face. Considering that the Balrog was twice the size of Glorfindel, that means Glorfindel most likely had to shove his arm inside the beast in order to keep thrusting the dirk upward and into its head. 

That Balrog didn’t trip over its feet and fall off the cliff. Glorfindel didn’t shove it and just got lucky that the Balrog lost its balance and fell off. That Balrog fell because it could no longer stand. It fell because it could no longer fight. And it was dead before it hit the bottom of the chasm. 


“…and falling clutched Glorfindel’s yellow locks beneath his cap, and those twain fell into the abyss.”
 

And literally, with its last dying breath, the Balrog grabbed Glorfindel’s hair as it was falling and took the Elf with him. 

…. 

Tolkien writes right after that this was “a very grievous thing” and I think I have to agree. Not only because Glorfindel was most dearly beloved by all the people of Gondolin, but because Glorfindel should have survived that duel. He should have lived. While I do wonder what injuries Glorfindel did suffer, if he caught fire and how badly if so, he himself didn’t actually undergo any serious wounds, apparently too fast on his feet for the Balrog to land a fatal blow, and it was only because the demon grabbed his golden hair with its last moments of life that he died. Did I mention his death sucked? 

Good Valar, can you envision just what the people of Gondolin saw when this duel went down? Were they rendered silent as they watched? And you want to tell me that the Balrog died because it fell off the cliff? At this point, it probably would have jumped off the cliff just to get away from Glorfindel. That “shriek” the Balrog let loose when Glorfindel gutted him from navel to nose? Tolkien called it “the death-cry of the Balrog”. I think it’s a testament to the Balrog’s terrible might that it managed to still have the strength to grab hold of Glorfindel’s hair after that. That Balrog didn’t die because it fell: it fell because it died. And it died because Glorfindel killed it. (What does a Balrog’s shriek sound like, by the way? Not its roar or grumble, but a shriek.) Thanks to Glorfindel, it got beaten on the head, lost its whip, lost its arm, lost the use of its shoulder, and Glorfindel “hewed at that demon” so much that the Balrog was actually running away from the Elf. Or tried to, rather, because Glorfindel just kept on his tail, chasing him up the mountain, relentless, giving no quarter, lethal, and undeniably an awesome sight to behold. And then, to top off the three critical wounds Glorfindel dealt the demon, the Balrog was then literally gutted. 

So to reiterate: that Balrog was DEAD. Deader than a doornail in that duel with Glorfindel.

**texts from “The Fall of Gondolin” HoME II.194-5
**EDIT: here’s a link to a brief convo about the thrust of his dirk into the Balrog

I was reading through some of my old notes, and came across this scene for an as-yet unwritten Balrog’Verse story.  I’m rather pleased with it, and it didn’t need a whole lot of fleshing out, so here, have it.  Consider it a preview of coming attractions.

‘Darcy?  What are you doing here?’

Darcy looked up from taking her coat off to see Stephen and another man coming down the frankly overkill staircase that dominated the New York Sanctum’s foyer.   ‘Movie night, remember?’   She held up the bag filled with candy, popcorn, and DVDs of her favourite movies, causing Stephen to groan theatrically.  ‘Hey, it’s your own fault.  I told you not to bet against Tony.’

‘How was I supposed to know he’d be so fast?’  Stephen didn’t even flinch when Wendy abandoned him to greet Balrog.  At this point, he was used to playing second fiddle to a bilgesnipe in the cloak’s affections.

‘Stephen, my magical unicorn, you’ve fallen victim to one of the classic blunders.  The first is Never Get Involved in a Prank War with Clint.  But only slightly less well-known is this:  Never Go Up Against a Stark when Engineering Is Involved.  Now c’mon!  You said you had a nifty projection spell!’

‘Still think this is an abuse of magic,’ he grumbled.

Darcy and the other man, another sorcerer, judging by his clothes, snorted in unison.  ‘Stephen,’ she said, dropping her bag to say hello to Wendy, ‘you use magic to blast your music through the entire Sanctum.  Don’t go stuffy on me now.’

The other sorcerer crossed his arms.  ‘Anyway, when have you ever let ethics interfere with your use of the mystic arts, Stephen?’

‘Exactly!’  Darcy grinned, waving an arm at her new ally.  ‘My good friend here who I have just met makes an excellent point.  What’s your name, good friend?’

Stephen pinched the bridge of his nose, briefly remembering the blissful days when people actually took him seriously.  ‘Darcy, this is Wong.  Wong is…  What do you do?’ he asked, turning to Wong with a frown.  ‘Are you still the librarian?  Are you the Master of the Hong Kong Sanctum?  Because ever since Dormammu, all I’ve ever seen you do is hang around and criticize my work.’

The very corner of Wong’s lips twitched.  ‘Have you ever considered that that is a full-time job?’ he asked dryly.

‘Sassy.  I like him.  Nice to meet you.’  Shaking his hand, she added, ‘Just Wong?  Like Beorn?  Galadriel?  Sauron?’  When there was no response, she tried one more.  ‘Beyoncé?’

Wong shot a flat look at Stephen, who was turning his snickers into unconvincing coughs.  ‘I can see why you’re friends.’