Folly by SurgicalSteel

Folly

Read Folly

‘It is a good thing that the mortal King has defeated our Enemy’s servant,’ the Valar said, congratulating themselves as the apparently humbled Mairon was taken to Númenor in chains – then they watched in dismay as the defeated foe became a trusted counselor.

‘We will send storms to remind them who the true masters of this world are,’ they said – then shook their heads as their adversary braved the lightning.

‘We will stop the winds, so their ships will be unable to land,’ they said – and then were astonished to see those vessels move under their own power.

‘Even if he lands here, he could never hope to defeat our hosts,’ they said – but then Tirion upon Túna was besieged.

“I’m coming for you next, you Valarin cocksuckers!” the Númenórean king pronounced as the thunderous darts of his weapons battered the walls of Tirion.

Alarmed by the possibility that this little man might actually win, they sang. They opened the Gates of Arda. And the World was forever changed.

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Chapter End Notes

AUTHOR’S NOTE: What may seem to be deviation from the canon of The Silmarillion is based on a different version of the canon which is found in The Lost Road, Volume V of HoMe. In the original outline of The Fall of Númenor, it states:
The Gods therefore sundered Valinor from the earth, and an awful rift appeared down which the water poured and the armament of Atalante was drowned.

So in this version, the responsibility for ‘changing the world’ lies squarely on the shoulders of the Valar.

As for the ships moving under their own power and the thunderous darts, that’s from The Lost Road also. In a conversation between ‘Herendil’ (the earliest version of Isildur) and his father, he states:

At first (Sauron) revealed only secrets of craft, and taught the making of many things powerful and wonderful; and they seemed good. Our ships go now without the wind, and many are made of metal that sheareth hidden rocks, and they sink not in calm or storm; but they are no longer fair to look upon. Our towers grow ever stronger and climb ever higher, but beauty they leave behind upon earth. We who have no foes are embattled with impregnable fortresses - and mostly on the West. Our arms are multiplied as if for an agelong war, and men are ceasing to give love or care to the making of other things for use or delight. But our shields are impenetrable, our swords cannot be withstood, our darts are like thunder and pass over leagues unerring.

That sounds like steamships, skyscrapers, and missiles to me.

As for the Valar singing to open the Gates of Arda, I’m indebted to pandemonium_213’s story ‘Into this Wild Abyss,’ archived here at the Silmarillion Writers’ Guild.