New Challenge: Potluck Bingo
Sit down to a delicious selection of prompts served on bingo boards, created by the SWG community.
SWG News
Bingo Cards Wanted for Potluck Bingo
Our November-December challenge will be Potluck Bingo, featuring cards created by you! If you'd like to create cards or prompts for cards, we are taking submissions.
Tolkien Meta Week, December 8-14
We will be hosting a Tolkien Meta Week in December, here on the archive and on our Tumblr, for nonfiction fanworks about Tolkien.
New Challenge: Orctober
Orcs on a quest for freedom seek a place sheltered and safe from the Dark Lord. Fulfill prompts to gather the clues needed to bring them to freedom.
New & Updated Fanworks
[Reference] Mapping Arda, Part III: The Second Age by Varda delle Stelle, Anérea
A series of articles featuring fan-made maps of all the lands of Arda. Part III explores the island of Númenor and mainland Middle-earth during the Second Age.
[Writing] Collection of Potluck Drabbles by Artano
This is a collection of true drabbles completed for the 'Four Words' drabble bingo card.
[Writing] Getting Dirty by Elleth
A collection of NSFW ficlets for the "Keep It Clean" bingo card of the 2024 Potluck Bingo.
[Reference] Doom and Ascent: The Argument of ‘Beowulf: the Monsters and the Critics’ by Simon J. Cook
Simon reads 'Beowulf: the Monsters and the Critics' to conclude his account of the Anglo-Saxon tower of its allegory.
[Artwork] 2024 Potluck Doodles by silmalope
Assorted prompt fills for the 2024 Potluck bingo boards, to varying degrees of completion! :)
[Artwork] A Collection of Maps Exhibiting the Changing Political Landscape in Beleriand by Artano
Created for the 'Geography/Maps/Places' prompt on the "Tolkien meta" bingo board, this is a collection of maps marked with the various people groups showing how they arrived and moved about Beleriand. This collection focuses specifically on the time from the arrival of the Teleri, Vanyar, and…
[Writing] On the Nature of the Sindar’s Hunting the Petty-dwarves by Artano
This is an analysis on whether the Sindar ate the Petty-dwarves during the years they hunted them, completed for the 'Literary Analysis' prompt on the "Tolkien Meta" bingo card.
Current Challenge
Potluck Bingo
Help yourself to a collection of prompts on bingo boards designed by members and friends of the SWG. Read more ...
Random Challenge
Heroes
Create a fanwork about a hero, whether the typical saves-the-world type or the unlikely, unsung, and accidental, those who have been forgotten or perhaps were never noticed at all, who made their worlds a better place. Read more ...
New in References
Mapping Arda, Part III: The Second Age by Varda delle Stelle, Anérea
A series of articles featuring fan-made maps of all the lands of Arda. Part III explores the island of Númenor and mainland Middle-earth during the Second Age.
Doom and Ascent: The Argument of ‘Beowulf: the Monsters and the Critics’ by Simon J. Cook
Simon reads 'Beowulf: the Monsters and the Critics' to conclude his account of the Anglo-Saxon tower of its allegory.
Why People Don't Comment: Data and History From the Tolkienfic Fandom by Dawn Walls-Thumma
A reworking of the 2018 article for Long Live Feedback that includes data from the 2020 Tolkien Fanfiction Survey, pointing to a lack of comments as related to skill, confidence, and community connection.
Featured Themed Collection
Part of our Themed Collection series for our newsletter, this collection features fiction, artwork, and essays that transcend the idea of Orcs as the enemy, instead considering their humanity.
Alliterative Verse for Arda by Rhunedhel
Part of our Themed Collection series for our newsletter, this collection features alliterative poems about Middle-earth.
Beyond the Silmarillion
[Artwork] Long-tressed Wingildi by Anérea
"... the long-tressed Wingildi ... spirits of the foam and the surf of ocean."
~ a painted sketch for Scribbles and Drabbles 2024.
[Writing] Partners in Craft by elennalore
Annatar realises that he might like Celebrimbor too much.
[Writing] Staging a Battle by StarSpray
He and Diamond were visiting, though Pippin had been disappearing every afternoon, and taking Frodo and Elanor and most other lads and lasses in the neighborhood with him—though why they couldn’t use Pippin’s own pony, Sam couldn’t imagine.
Around the World and Web
Teitho November/December Contest: Healing
The theme for Teitho's November/December contest is healing.
Lord of the Rings Secret Santa 2024
LotR SESA has been ongoing for twenty-one years and is running again this year as a prompt meme hosted on AO3 for all genres of Tolkien-based fanfiction.
Kiliel Week 2024
Kiliel Week is a Tumblr event for fanworks about the Kili/Tauriel pairing.
November challenge at tolkienshortfanworks
The challenge for November has been posted to the tolkienshortfanworks community on Dreamwidth. Thematic prompt: refuge. Formal challenge: include imitation of a sound. As always, these can be filled independently and also freely combined with SWG and other challenges. New participants welcome!
November 2024 Call for Papers and Proposals
Calls for papers and proposals for conferences and publications that are open during the month of November 2024.
Captive by tinni
| | |
Chapter 3
Captive
Chapter 3
******
“STOP!” cried Fëanaro, “I’ll do anything, just stop hurting him.”
Morgoth’s smile broadened, “Anything?.”
Another anguish-filled cry erupted from Maitimo. “Yes… YES! Anything. Just please stop hurting him,” Fëanaro begged, “please.”
Morgoth laughed. “I like the sound of you begging.” Though Fëanaro could not see his eyes he knew a malicious glint was in them. “Beg me,” he commanded, “beg me to take you. Beg to me to give you the opportunity to pleasure me with your mouth. Beg me and call me Melkor, call me your master and I shall stop Sauron. I shall order Nelyafinwë down from that barbarous invention,” he promised.
The proud spirit of Fëanaro recoiled in loathing from such degradation and words of defiance threatened to rush forth.
“Findekáno! My love, help me!” Nelyafinwë cried out as the wheel was turned once more. A pause, a moment of respite, but not a moment of silence. In a voice laced with despair, Nelyafinwë the tall added, “I am sorry, I am sorry, Atarinya… I have failed you.” The wheel was turned again and the room rang with the scream of his eldest and not the least dear of his sons once more.
Fëanaro had but one choice. He hung his head in supplication and in a quiet voice whispered, “Please, Master Melkor, let me please you.”
“I cannot hear you, High King of the Noldor.” Morgoth emphasised his title, reminding him who exactly he was and challenging him to defy him, even as he turned Fëanaro to face him.
It was then Fëanaro realised that he didn’t care. He didn’t care that he was the High King of Noldor, the most skilled and gifted of all the elves. At that moment all he cared about was his son, and he would willingly relinquish all the works of his hands, not just the Silmarils, to see him safe and sound, away from this Hell of irons. So he swallowed his pride and in tone of complete submission that was loud enough to be heard all over the large room he begged.
“Please my lord, take me. Let me feel your glorious body, let me taste your unmatched strength. Please Master Melkor, give me the opportunity to kneel in front of you and pleasure you with my mouth. I swear to you that you shall not soon forget my ministration of you.”
A strange, disturbing glint appeared in Morgoth’s eyes as he said, “I said you would beg me to take you.”
Fëanaro did not react to his words, only turned his head as much as he could to look once more at his son with eyes filled with pain and agony.
Morgoth smiled in anticipation as he called out, “Sauron, that is enough playing for today. Take Maitimo down.”
A disappointed sigh issued from Sauron’s lips. He didn’t understand the lust Morgoth harboured for Fëanaro, being free himself from such desires, but it was not his place to question his master. He unclasped the restraints, letting Nelyafinwë fall to the floor with a painful thud and a grunt of agonising pain mixed with relief. His task done, Sauron stood in expectation of further commands.
“Let me go to him,” Fëanaro begged, his voice reflecting his broken spirit. “Let me tend to him. Release him and I shall let you do to me what you will.”
Morgoth only laughed. “Kiss me like you would your wife and I shall let you go to him. Please me with your performance in my bed and I shall let you tend to him. As for releasing him, you are not above treachery, my spirit of fire, and he shall remain as security.”
Fëanaro’s eyes flashed fire and the defiance returned to his voice. “You are not above treachery either…” with great effort he stopped himself from saying Morgoth. “How do I know that you shall not take your perverse lust out on my son? How do I know you shall let me go to him? Tend to him? How do I know you do not lie?”
“You don’t,” Morgoth replied, his eyes reflecting malicious joy at Fëanaro’s predicament.
Fëanaro, however, was having none of it. “I trust you not at all. If you will not release my son, then let me tend to him now. I will not go back on my word and if I do you…” he trailed off. He knew Morgoth needed no hints from him to devise methods of torturing Maitimo should he renege on his agreement.
Morgoth considered his options. Fëanaro was obstinate enough to refuse him despite the suffering of Maitimo. There was no telling how long it would be before Fëanaro’s paternal affections overcame his pride, indeed if ever, and Morgoth simply could not wait to taste Fëanaro’s fire.
Fëanaro felt all feeling return to his body. “I care not for red heads or over-long limbs. The only son of yours I wish to bed is the sweet voiced Kanafinwë,” he admitted and Fëanaro shivered, “You may tend to him but be quick, for I long to see what it was that Nerdanel enjoyed all those years.” With that he released him and called to Sauron, “Take them to the room. You know which one I mean, and give them what they need.” With that he was gone.
Fëanaro wasted no time in reaching Maitimo and rearranging him in a more comfortable position, cradling his head on his lap. At the tender, caring touches Nelyafinwë opened his eyes. As soon as he saw Fëanaro his eyes lit up with joy.
“Atarinya!” he cried. “So I am finally in Mandos.” Then he noticed his surroundings; his face fell and he recoiled in shame and horror. “NO…” he cried, “no, go away. I don’t want you to see me in my shame and misery,” he cried as he tried to pull away.
“Hush, Russandol,” whispered Fëanaro, “worry not about such things here, it is pointless.”
Sauron handed him a dirty black leather flask with water that was as clean as any that could be found in the iron hell. Fëanaro took it gratefully and helped Maitimo drink the foul smelling liquid, who drank it as if it was the blessed water from the pure springs of Valinor.
“But what are you doing here, Atarinya?” Maitimo asked in grief-filled confusion when the drink had revived him somewhat. “We thought you were dead,” he admitted.
Fëanaro looked at the direction Morgoth had gone. In loathing and despair he said, “I wish I was, my son… I wish I was.”
******
Translation:
Fëa – soul
Atarinya – father
Fëanaro – Fëanor
Kanafinwë – Maglor
Nelyafinwë, Maitimo, Russandol – Maedhros
Author's notes: Thanks to Andreth for beta reading.
