Tolkien Meta Week Starts December 8!
Join us December 8-14, here and on Tumblr, as we share our thoughts, musings, rants, and headcanons about all aspects of Tolkien's world.
“You,” Fingon pronounced, “are drunk. I am not going to give you anyone’s name just so you can make up a silly drunken ballad."
Glingaereth meets the crown prince of the Noldor by chance, if chance you call it.
“All the same, sister, be careful.”
“Me?” Glingaereth said. “Careful of what?”
“Of that prince.”
“What, Fingon? If you are worried about the Noldor’s feuds, he is the one who brought them to an end.”
Limbeleth shook her head. “I can’t explain it. It isn’t that you need worry about him, but—I have an uneasy feeling about them all, and I feel also that you will be bound up in their fate somehow.”
The story repeats and yet doesn't, over and over with the aftermath of each battle.
Fingon strips Dor-lomin of men for his grand assault on Angband - only the women and children and defenseless are left behind.