2018 is þe year of using þe þorn again instead of þe letters “T” and “H” in succession
gotta keep it smooþ
þank you
Who let Feanor have a tumblr??
Are you protesting þis?
We are not starting another riot over this. This is not going to end with someone making three jewels, swearing an oath and murdering people over some boats. I’m warning you.
“Tears unnumbered ye shall shed…” Remember that little bit?
I’m fucking warning you.
– Mod Eönwë
PS. Seriously, no more mass murders with poetic names, or I’ll go full “Captain of the Host of the West” on your asses and you won’t be happy about it…
I wanna make some pretty jewels!
– Mod Manwë
Guyþ if Feanor haþ a Tumblr it lookþ þomething like thiþ.
please, please, someone help me out here because i’m broke as shit and can’t afford a copy of peoples of middle-earth to look up the actual shibboleth story – was the linguistic shift addressed by the shibboleth only applied to the unvoiced dental fricative (thulë)? the tengwar suggests that the shibboleth would only come into play when the root of a word was spelled with a thulë, and that any words spelled with a silmë would retain the voiced alveolar fricative (s-sound).
tl;dr: in fëanárian quenya, do all s-sounds become thorns? or just those whose roots contain a thulë? the consonant morphology available on tolkiengateway suggests the latter but literally everyone on tumblr seems to be saying it’s all s’s, whether thulë or silmë. pls help @verymaedhros@alia-andreth@incorrect-middleearth-quotes y’all seem like you know what you’re doing
It’s just those whose roots contain a thulë, or rather, just those that are spelled with a thulë when using tengwar. Unfortunately the English alphabet contains neither thulë nir silmë so if people obeyed those rules in their jokes it wouldn’t be funny anymore.
I love this post because it’s basically
OP: “hey guise let’s have a recreational fight about language”
Silmarillion fandom: *piles out of a clown-car ship with armfuls of miruvor, swords and diacritical marks* did sOMEONE SAY FIGHT ABOUT LANGUAGE
Update: Sauron is not afraid of hobbits. He was unaware that hobbits existed up until very recently. he literally did not have time to be afraid of them, they went from a 0 to 100 threat level in twenty seconds. There he was, minding his own business worrying about the usual Elves and Men when suddenly these kids are on his lawn and now he’s dead, like just;
What did— who–
did I just get one-shotted by an infant how is this occurring
Honestly I have to love this whole thought process that the Fellowship must have cultivated in Sauron, like…
“These children have found the Ring! But they’re taking it to the elves, of course. I will simply have to catch them on the way.”
“Well, the elves are still not to be trifled with, it seems. It looks as though they have a group of intrepid heroes, how cute! Wait, who’s leading them? Aw, hell.”
“OKAY! Olorin’s out of the way, and now I can finally kill them all and reclaim the- OH DAMMIT, IT’S IN LOTHLORIEN.”
“Well, okay. They’ve taken it onward. Curunir says one of the halflings is still carrying the ring, so he’s going to capture them and we’ll see how this develops. Thankfully Olorin’s still out of the picture and their little group just shattered into pieces, so that’s one less thing to worry about.”
“Aaaaaand Curunir shat the bed. Excellent. Trees, who would have thought? Okay, so we’re back to plan A: conquer Gondor, because if the Ring’s going to be anywhere, it’ll be there.”
“Wait, who’s on the– Isildur’s WHAT? Ohhhh. Ohohoho. Oh now everything makes sense. Isildur’s Heir is back, and he’s here being all prideful again. That’s fine. Really. I’ll just crush him and his kingdom, and then nobody can stop me!”
“WHAT? FUCKING WHAT? THEY SENT HIM BACK? Ugh, alright, alright, I’m cool, I’m fine. He’s still got that stupid wizard costume on, and I’m still stronger than he ever was. It’s not like he can come toe to toe with me, even if he does have an army behind him. This’ll be fine.”
“They’re… actually marching on the Black Gate? Sweet lord, I didn’t think they’d actually do it! This is perfect, everyone’s right here! Olorin, the human princeling, most of the remaining fighting forces of Men, all I have to do is kill them now and– Wait. Someone just put on the Ring. Someone just– That’s a halfling. They’re inside the mouNTAIN OH GOD NAZGUL GO GO G–”
…aaaaaand curtain.
you can laugh but that is literally what happened
This is the single best brief summary I have ever seen of the entire point of the Lord of the Rings trilogy.
holy shit you just keep making these tougher. UM. LET ME SEE.
everything from “tall helms with plumes of red” to fingolfin trying to make a clean exit and fëanor following him because he isn’t done yelling
fëanor dies
finrod throwing his crown on the ground
turin like, leading mim at spearpoint DIRECTLY into the room where mim’s son is dying, it turns out
when maeglin makes dire insinuations at hurin & huor about the security of gondolin, and hurin’s like, “The King’s grace is great indeed; but if our
word is not enough, then we will swear oaths to you.” and huor’s like “im 14”
OR IS IT MAEGLIN FALLING OFF DRAMATIC IRONY PARAPET. to be honest. i cannot decide.
A realization that strikes them each rather differently, as it transpires.
“You’re churning,” Makalaurë observed, as Maitimo did another length of the carpet. “If you keep it up like that you’re going to wear a spot in Grandmother’s rug and you know Father will get the pained line between his brows.”
“Grandmother’s carpets don’t wear,” said Maitimo, executing another pivot and striding back towards the hearth. “Valar, perhaps I should take a page from her book and just sleep until I am never seen again.”
“That’s a little overwrought,” said Makalaurë, a phrase which from his mouth would usually be enough to shake Maitimo from his turmoil to observe dramatic irony in action. “So you have been kissing Findekáno in the garden, so what?”
“Not just in the garden,” said Maitimo, running a hand through his hair and then stopping as it reminded him of Findekáno’s touch. And not just kissing, he didn’t add. “Also on the veranda, by the canal, under the bridge, next to the peach vendor…”
“So what? What of that is so bad that you need to banish yourself to Námo’s realm rather than continue? I know it’s embarrassing to have an infatuation, especially with someone so…buoyant, but it’s not like Findekáno’s hideous.”
That brought Maitimo to a halt. “He’s not hideous at all,” he said, frowning. “Why would one be embarrassed to be seen with him? He is handsome and well-built, noble and full of life, fun-loving and kind, and why say you ‘buoyant’ as if it is something shameful? He has energy, certainly, but it is of the sort that uplifts rather than wearies and a quality most befitting a prince. Stop laughing,” he said, annoyed, as Makalaurë chortled from the divan. “It is not the optics that concern me – well, not entirely – but it is precisely what you say!”
“What do I say,” said Makalaurë, composing himself.
“Infatuation,” said Maitimo wretchedly. “To him I am but an early crush realized, a light and happy affair to look back on fondly when we are old and wed to others. I thought I could bear it, could stand to suffer the kisses and – and other things, by the peaches and so on, but…”
“But?” prompted Makalaurë, his smile fading.
“I think I love him.” Maitimo sank down, missing the ottoman by a good foot, and landed on Míriel’s weaving with a clatter of long limbs. He folded forward and buried his head in his arms. “Help me, whatever shall I do? He cannot know, he mustn’t, I should not put such pressures on him but brother…” Maitimo lifted red-rimmed eyes. “I cannot take this torment much longer.”
“So,” said Irissë, running wax over her bowstring. “You and Maitimo, eh. How’s that going?”
“Excellent,” said Findekáno, wiping glue from his fletching. “I shall marry that man someday.”
‘Some there are among us who sing that the Shadow will draw back and peace shall come again. Yet I do not believe that the world about us will ever again be as it was of old, or the light of the Sun as it was aforetime.’
Update: Legolas’ pupils are about 3.5 cm wide each. Now drawing kawaii Legolas on physics assignment.
And they told you science was no fun.
Science!
I’m going to do it. I’m going to hand it in.
Legolas’s pupil size isn’t the problem here, though. 5 leagues is 17.262 miles. The curvature of the Earth means that for a person of average height, the visual horizon is less than three miles away. Even if your vision is telescopic and the atmosphere is perfectly clear, you can’t see around the planet. If they were standing on a hill, it would have to be at LEAST 198 feet above sea level in order to see the horizon at 17.2 miles away, with nothing tall in between. Which, knowing Rohan, isn’t impossible.
But consider: Elven satellite eyeballs.
you mean like
@sidereanuncia it’s back, the post that I can only imagine haunts your nightmares
I shall never find peace.
Also, for what it’s worth, there’s absolutely no reason to believe that the curvature of Middle Earth is the same as that of Earth.
There’s no evidence that Middle Earth curves.
Yeah there is. The Silmarillion states that the world was curved after the fall of Numenor (I believe), preventing access to Valinor. But Elves (among others) can travel the straight path across it.
So middle earth is round, but not for Elves because magic.
So wait, the reason he can see that far is because Elves just have the ability to ignore the curve of the earth? That’s awesome. It also means that no matter how good your optics got, you would always want elf eyes manning the spyglass because they can see arbitrarily far while everybody else is limited by this ‘horizon’ bullshit.
Oh thank God, my poor elf prince has seen too much in this post
Elves are flat-earthers
This post went from amusing to horrifying, to be brought back down to amusing, sprinkled in with some cannon explanation, and then you leave me here in fucking outrage
just moving along like everyone else 