Tol Sirion during its Tol-in-Gaurhoth incarnation, post Lúthien’s victory over Sauron.
Tol Sirion during its…
Reader deep thought: When even the sons of Fëanor were less inclined to march on Angband than Fingolfin, the time the Noldor were having in Middle-earth must be fantastic. But the bigger wonder was the notion of futilty in their struggle against Morgoth did not cross the Elves’ minds. Nor did the Edain understand the magnitude, longevity of his grudge bearing. Escalation was a horrible thing to behold: Dagor Bragollach, number four in the Beleriand War Collection was more terrible, expansive, and devastating in its reach than the preceding three.
Reader deep thought: Beleriand, north-west Middle-earth, action central of the First Age. Time to get the lay of the land, and know this land full of Elves, as things were during the Siege of Angband. Or geography!time aka this was the way the lembas crumble when the Elf-lords drew borders. And of course where there were maps, there was politics. Add Mr. Deceit himself and the DOOM of an entire clan of Eldalië, and things could only have gotten interesting. Still, ever hath music sootheth the savage beast. What a pity the Laiquendi were so shy.
Reader deep thought: What an eventful time! The Noldor sure started their careers as Exiles with a bang, or three. And the Sun and the Moon sprung up in time to bear witness to the stuff of legends. Gothmog debuted, Fëanor passed, the Noldor-lords reunited willy-nilly, Noldor meets Sindar, and Thingol unhappy. But still, the Noldor prospered and there was diaspora, much thanks in part to Maedhros’ mellowing out, Finrod’s loyalty to their friendship, and the even-tempered EQ of Fingolfin. Everything happened. Even LOVE, blooming in Galadriel and Celeborn’s companionship in Menegroth (interestingly, both were Thingol’s kin). And yet, already two Wars of Beleriand before the end of the chapter, in the brief span of time right before the Sun first rose to her 60th anniversary, and the Silmarils were still in Morgoth’s ever scheming hands. Bummer. And what did the Noldor do? Siege Angband of course! Four hundred fifty years. Longevity hath its privileges.
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