"The Glory in 'Glorious'" and "Singer of Praises" by Himring
Fanwork Notes
Both stories were written for B2MeM prompts.
The first story was written for B2MeM 2013:
(Themes): "Courage", Day One:
"He passed over Dor-nu-Fauglith like a wind amid the dust, and all that beheld his onset fled in amaze, thinking that Oromë himself was come: for a great madness of rage was upon him, so that his eyes shone like the eyes of the Valar.”
The connection between the prompt and the ficlet may not be altogether obvious...
I suppose I will have to assure you that in my mind at least several links exist.
The second story was written for B2MeM 2015:
Prompt by Maglor Makalaure: Maglor has stopped playing music, and Fingon, here for a trip, is worried and tries to reach out to him. I'd love anything hopeful and optimistic, but dramatic and angsty goes, too. :D I love to see these two interacting in meaningful ways.
[with some small tweaks to the prompt]
- Fanwork Information
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Summary:
After the early victory against Morgoth called the "Glorious Battle" (Dagor Aglareb):
I. The Fingolfinians and the Feanorians first encounter each other after their shared victory.
II. Later, at the victory celebrations, Fingon misses his cousin Maglor and seeks him out.
Major Characters: Fingolfin, Fingon, Maedhros, Maglor
Major Relationships:
Artwork Type: No artwork type listed
Genre: General
Challenges: B2MeM 2013, B2MeM 2015
Rating: Teens
Warnings:
This fanwork belongs to the series
Chapters: 2 Word Count: 892 Posted on 9 March 2013 Updated on 17 May 2015 This fanwork is complete.
The Glory in 'Glorious'
The Fingolfinians and the Feanorians first encounter each other after their shared victory.
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We met within sight of the peaks of Thangorodrim, blood-spattered and begrimed. Under our feet, the grass of Ard-galen was singed and trampled. But it would grow green again, this time.
My lord Fingon quickened his step and I saw the King frown, just a little, but he kept pace with his son. We knew that we had succeeded in crushing the enemy forces between the hammer and the anvil, but we did not know any details of how the other side had fared. Of course, my lord Fingon was anxious to learn that his cousin—that all of his cousins were still living and unhurt. So, I am sure, was the King, but he always stood a little more on his dignity, especially with the Dispossessed.
We met somewhere not quite in the middle—not so far from the place they were to call Haudh-en-Ndengin, but that was later, that was afterwards—and there they were, with their escort, all seven of them, Caranthir with a blood-stained bandage around his head and Amrod with his arm in a sling, but all alive, all still on their feet. And Lord Maedhros—well, as soon as he saw his cousin, a burden seemed to lift from his shoulders and a shadow from his face so that you might well believe that, if Fingon had been anxious about his well-being, so had he been about Fingon’s.
Then Fingon let out a whoop of joy, as if he could no longer contain himself—but my guess is he did not even try—and he took off his helmet and tossed it straight up into the air and shouted: ‘We won!’
And I saw the King and Lord Maedhros both look up at the helmet as it hung there for a moment, spinning, high up against the cloudless summer sky, gleaming in the sun, and as it started to come down again and Fingon caught it above his head with one hand, I saw Lord Maedhros and the King looking at each other.
And Lord Maedhros smiled at the King and said: ‘We did.’
But soon he grew sober again and began to ask his uncle about any losses on our side and, after that, things went on as you might expect.
I was there because my Lady Aredhel had sent me with them, away from her side, when she knew she could not come herself and would be left to guard Barad Eithel and her niece, our King’s only grandchild. She had crafted my bow with her own hands and told me: ‘Take them down for me. If any of them comes too close to my father or my brothers, take them down for me!’
We called it the Glorious Battle, Dagor Aglareb. They still call it that, but it is just a name now, a way of counting, of distinguishing it from the battle that came before and the battle that came after. We forgot a little, I think, and we were not encouraged to remember.
They talk of the long defeat and of fruitless victories, although the Glorious Battle granted Beleriand several centuries of peace—which still does not seem such a small thing to me! It is always easy to pick holes in any victory, of course. But who now remembers the courage and heroism that Caranthir showed in that campaign—and Orodreth and Angrod and Guilin? It is their defeat and their deaths that are remembered. And of others who were equally brave and true that day, history does not record even the end.
But I remember Lord Fingon’s helmet spinning, spinning up there in the sun, and the satisfaction, the deep contentment, in Lord Maedhros’s voice as he said to his uncle: ‘We did.’
We won, he meant. We did. We.
Chapter End Notes
You will probably have spotted the allusions to FOTR in "long defeat" and "fruitless victories" without my telling you.
Singer of Praises
At the victory celebrations after the Dagor Aglareb, Fingon misses his cousin Maglor and seeks him out.
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‘Makalaure! Tonight all the voices of the Eldar are lifted up in song, celebrating our victory. But I have missed your voice among them. Mightiest singer of the Noldor, do you not think this glorious battle of ours is worth a song?’
‘Have you forgotten how this battle began, Findekano?’
‘With the Dark Foe attacking us?’
‘With my failure to hold the Gap! I let the enemy through and they wrought havoc in eastern Beleriand.’
‘Maitimo has spoken to me of this. He says it was his mistake.’
‘He would.’
‘He would—but is he wrong to say the reinforcements he sent arrived too late?’
‘That is but to say I should have held until they arrived.’
‘It is but to say that maybe it was both of you who erred—or neither. Do you truly think we made no mistakes on our side or that they had no consequences? We are all of us learning still, Makalaure. None of us knew how to conduct a war when we set out—on this scale or on any scale at all! But still we won. We won! Come now, let us praise the praiseworthy tonight that their deeds be not forgotten! It will be soon enough to consider our errors by the cold light of dawn.’
‘Very well—I will come and praise the deeds of Findekano the Valiant, hero of the Noldor…’
‘That was not what I meant!’
‘I know that was not what you meant, cousin! But I will! Do not fear—I will not forget to praise anyone else deserving of praise in our ranks either, I have more skill than that—for this task at least I was trained in Valinor…’
Chapter End Notes
Quenya names: Fingon (Q. Findekano), Maglor (Q. Makalaure); reference to Maedhros (Q. Maitimo)
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