The Fall of the Noldor by Erurainon

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Fanwork Notes

This tale as tolkien put it for the intro to FOTR, "Grew in the telling" in that it was not there from the very beginning but sprung up when a friend of mine asked me if I knew more about the lay of the fall of the noldor mentioned briefly in Tolkien texts. The words came freely and I yet not know how I ended up with this coppy. There were no other drafts and I recall, quight gloomily, that perhaps it was unsuitible for those fan fic webcites I was thinking of. Then I filed the poem away for around a month or two until I found this cite. Here it is and I hope that it will have for you the same feel and mode of tolkien's writing while keeping firm a bardic sense of mythic quality.

Fanwork Information

Summary:

A lay of the Elder Days focused on the fortunes of the house of Feanor, the Silmarils of yore, the dark magesty of Morgoth, and the ending of the wars of Balariand all in verse.

Major Characters: Ainur

Major Relationships:

Genre: Drama, Poetry

Challenges: Differing Perspectives

Rating: General

Warnings:

Chapters: 1 Word Count: 1, 393
Posted on 30 October 2011 Updated on 30 October 2011

This fanwork is complete.

Chapter 1

the end

Read Chapter 1

The Fall of the Noldor

The Marring of Fëanor

O horrid shade
Shadow grey
Born of loss and sorrow,
Twilight haunt of darkness fell
Swift shaft of untamed anguish.
Flight from green shores
Turned brown and black
Flower withered, lost, and forgotten.
Flight from the night
Unyielding fight
The dark lord stands unconquered.
Farewell to hall
And gilded house
Of restless thankless misery.
I strive far ahead
To lofty peak
Forbading weakness’ uncomely grip of terror.
I am spirit,
Spirit of fire
Radiant lamp of fearless rebellion.
Stand not in dread ye sons of peace
Stand not in deedless loitering idleness.
Take vengeance clear
Forsake gloom’s evil spear
Defy damned dark lord.
Morgoth still sits
On blackened throne
Foe of Valar and high folk.
To war and doom
To slaughter of wrath
Finwë father shall now be by mine hand avenged
Vengeance of love,
Love of lust
Lust of gems of mine own hand.
Silmarils,
Holy jewels
Locked in bliss now broken,
Those precious gems
My favored dream
The light of Aman drowned in twilight’s grasp.
Now in bleakest shade,
O shade of night
Silmarils burn for cursed Melkor.
I am master
Of mine fates’ course
No vala shall contest me.
Follow friends
Noldor great
Giants among cowards and cravens.
Leave thy homes
To land of ours
Country yet unconquered.
Ye lords lofty
Ye kinsfolk of blood and dauntless mind
Shalt thou leave Arda to feeble mortals?
O Noldor fell
Break manwë’s spell
Detach from once blessed now blackened Aman.
I swear oath of fate
Of mine own will
With seven sons that shalt endure all torments,
I stand strong undimmed by wrong
Defiant still in folly.
I swear that none shalt keep
That which I formed
Of brilliance of now fallen glory,
I swear to shun the shadow that hast won
The light of mine own thought
With hard labor bought.
So now we fly,
Fly on wings of night
Brave folk
Cursed Noldor.
Cursed we are
Though not by he
Who spoke our doom on ice shore.
Mandos quells the jail crow’s knell
Though he be of that foe’s enemy.
Thrall of fool Manwë
Thrall of Valar contested
Morgoth mine foe
The Noldor’s foe,
He shalt feel mine steel’s point
And if I fail
If all Noldor fall
Still better then endure the nightfall
Grey shade
Blackest shadow.
The march of force tested force
Barred stay at swan haven.
I bade folk of shore
Untroubled shore
Ride foam tinged waves of conquest.
So they scorn mine wish
A dream of war
Of freedom untainted by vain sorrow.
So I spill blood
Shipwright’s witless blood
Dying green waves scarlet.
O crimson rage
Anointing flame
Blind regret with will of steel
Unmoving action stirred.
Why shouldst I tarry?
On prison shores
Cooped in land of heart’s tumult
The contempt of delay frothing
Churning forth
Writhing in the stall
The halt of time that works against mine cause
With patients
With dratted humility?
Nay,
I shalt be no serf
no child fraught with woe
reckoning not the folk that turn mine victory to march thwarted
a passage slow.
I shalt not brook
The cowards I’ve took
If cravens they prove to be at final test.
Leave kinsfolk behind
Never kin of mine,
Thralls wining
Whelps of Valar who sit in the shade.
Thou Manwë brood
Brood on thou fool
Mine half brother art now forsaken for hasty grumblings
Thy hands unfit for strife.
Face grinding ice,
Or turn back a slave subservient
Why shouldst on thy account sacrifice?
To conflict under stars
Stars of flame
Mine fire burns brighter then blades of foe’s strength.
I know not
What lies ahead
yet from horror I fly with no dread.
Join me who deem themselves wise
forsake fellowships’ lies
adopt the rugged road
leave manwë and Varda
leave Valar of trepidation
leave disaster and ruin behind.
If thou thinketh me reckless
Thou are but mine foe
If thou thinketh me visionary
A friend thou may be for a time,
To be captured in lay of intricate rime
In sagas of hope
In a land of our own
In days to come
In freedom’s world revived once again.

The Lay of Melkor

I twas before
The world was born
I’ve seen the powers in their own realm.
I’ve walked the path
The perilous path
Yet here I sit on throne of my choosing
A throne of my greatness unchecked.
Where art thou Manwë?
Where art thy sons of man?
I enslave elf and Maiar
No league shalt stand.
I slew Fëanor the proud
Marred his plans and found
you Valar care little for mine wicked plans
or else thou wouldst come here and drive
those folk who thou swore to find
saved from mine shadow
the shadow of might
for I am Mellkor of the black tide.
I am Morgoth
Dark lord of ëa
The world that is now
But the fiefdom of dominion
Save for kingdoms of elf lords unbowed.
O seven sons
Of spirit of flame now dead
Wouldst thou turneth to ash as thy sire slain in combat with Balrog captain at soldiery’s head?
Thy quest tis now vain
Thy captain now slain
Thy leaguer broken after tears unnumbered hast been shed.
The silmaril that hast been lost
Hast proved but the frost
That eateth away at union’s forest of hope.
So go forth and battle
Mine Goblins as rabble.
If thou continue then thou shalt destroy thy own
By the oaths thy swore sons of woe
For thy selves art thou greatest foe
Not the perils thou thinketh driveth thy slow
But the enmity which I hast caused to grow.
O tree
Black tree
Fruit of kin slaying
Treachery of oath thou hast now achieved.
O chain of thralldom
O Hürin thy cry
It awaits me but tis thou who art captured
A prisoner of mine.
Hador’s cursed house
of mortals grim
thy heroes are forgotten
thy children slaves to mine will.
Doubt not the power the power of mine mind
The eye of Mellkor roves abroad.
The watchers of fear line thy walls
Mine fumes of putrid filth pollute sweet waterfalls.
Mine name is whispered
The rumor of darkness
Echo of terror
Iron influence of master
For I am now master of Middle Earth
For I am Mellkor
First and mightiest of the song.

The Sorrow of Manwë

The ages fly past
With wars of wrath
In country of heart ache and war.
Thru the rain and the fog and the smoke of Orcs’ hoard
In to Arda’s troubles I behold festering gloom.
The Noldor return from the exile of woe
And Mellkor broods now chained in outer void.
Yet evil remains
The dark curses of pain
The servant of Morgoth dwells on.
Sauron
The deceiver
New foe of the land
The shadow of shadow
The shade of master’s black hand.
Though Fëanor and his sons strove against fate’s enduring ban
In to ruin they ran
And so by their deeds they there damned
By the courage marred of Lord Fëanor’s dauntless hand
which wrought Noldor’s doom
terrible though foreseen
from the first note of Eru
to the last cord of ëa’s song in timeless halls
ere aught was wrought of despair.
Thus lies the legacy
the remnant of he
that proud elf most powerful
who sought to maketh his folk free.
Yet on his course
His spirit of flame
Brought bloodshed and chaos
And direst blame.
Only Mandos may judge
Under mine consent
All the loss and the grief
Born from Fëanor’s wrath.
Only eru may behold
What is to come
Once the ending of the world
Hast finally come.
Then what shall befall the son of Finwë?
Then what shall befall the lord of anguish and rage?
The Silmarils now rest
In homes of rest
One locked in the house
of earth
one drowned deep
in waters of Ulmo
one a star
Gill estel of hope
The shining radiance of heaven undimmed
A beacon to guide the free folk thru the perils of Arda
Known and unknown
Great and small
so that even in night
if moon fadeth
and other stars fall obscured
still
still there is light.


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