heget | Entries tagged with young bucks of cuiviénen

houseofhaleth asked: In a fight between Thingol and Ingwe, Ingwe would win. Y/N

In Cuiviénen, Ingwë is the strongest, no contenders, qualms, or doubts. He has the body strength, the skill with hunting (both physical and mental, so much of hunting is the mental), the drive. The intensity. Elwë is the most sociable, the one that actively leads and builds alliances and is the one to drive the three of them to do things (Finwë’s hair-brained scheming will come up with ideas, but Elwë is the one to take the new ideas and implement them). Elwë’s overwhelming demand for vengeance for his parents and anger to bring the fight to the dark hunters is what brings the three to Oromë, and he does have a lot of maturity from helping to raise two younger brothers. But Ingwë is still more intense. He has been the outcast son tending to two fading parents and a newborn sister. He has always had the most to gain and nothing to protect him if he falls. He defeats the First Among First and seizes total leadership of his tribe. Ingwë has the most strength and cunning and willingness to be brutal - and there is not a chance that Elwë would fight him and win. Especially because he’s a bit afraid of Ingwë ~~but then everyone including the Maiar are~~.

But the Elu Thingol with Aranrúth in hand, over three thousand years of leading his people alone without support of anyone but Melian in the dark and Morogoth-tainted wilds of Beleriand, who has matured to the tallest and strongest and most awe-inspiring (more like a lord of the Maiar) elf? Who has fought the forces of evil for a long and bitter age? He could fight the Ingwë who has retired and turned to meditation and peace (though sword to throwing spear …) and it might be a more even fight, even Elu’s victory.

Still, Ingwë has matured as well, in understanding of the world, mastery of the Song of Arda, in wisdom and forbearance and personality. Actually, a philosophical debate between the two I’m not sure who the winner would be.

I still think Ingwë is the better king of his people, but he does have the unfair disadvantage of luck. The Vanyar to stick together and completely reject all of Morgoth’s attempts to suborn them, so I do wonder how they would survive Middle-earth is they were the ones left behind and not the Teleri. A smaller group without any natural divisions, so no split, they would all wait for Ingwë. The question then of spiritual desire for light and dissatisfaction with Middle-earth. This sounds like a really interesting AU… Hmm, honestly I figure if the situation was reversed, Ingwë would be leading his people through the Helcaraxë in thick mammoth and cave bear fur coats, everyone would arrive in Aman (“So we walked over instead of using the island boat. Huh, whadda’ya know? We still beat the ferry over. First elves.”)

(In a fight, at any point, either of them would cream Finwë. Except maybe oratory. Maybe. But physical contests or fighting armed or unarmed? Ha. Maybe Finwë could win an arm wrestling contest- nope. ~~And despite a strong late effort by Elu, Finwë still wins the disastrously terrible parenting contest, so there’s that~~)

Elu is taller and prettier, though. ;)

The Duel. spoilers for "Of Ingwë Ingweron."

The youths are foolish, to place their confidence and effort into elaborate posturing and flashy moves. Duels take one stroke, one stab, if the warrior is right. The fight is before; the hunt is the wait. It is to reach the mind out and feel the echo of the opponent and flow of his thoughts. That is the secret of the hunt, to sing without words and feel as others feel, both companions and prey. To know the challenger across the ring and judge his thoughts. To be either the spear, stabbing boldly forward, to overwhelm the challenger and cow him under force of will - or be the lake, to absorb the attack like the water swallowing everything in its depths, find the weakness and in the same instance push back.

Imin is master of both paths, of spear and lake, knows every trick, has watched every fight that has ever been. Oldest and first, he has no equal and no one before him. There is a pointless cruelty in accepting this challenger, for Imin has no weaknesses, and this boy has no hope. What pride compels him, this boy that hunts alone and has never challenged his companions in the ring, to think he can best the first among all? Imin reaches out to find the challenger’s spirit, to hear the beat of the other heart, and overwhelm it with his own. The boy is tall and strong, his grip on the spear relaxed but right. There is a strange gleam of health to his body and a light in his eyes that Imin does not trust. The boy speaks of a land of light without death, a land that has made him strong. Imin can feel the boy’s strength. He acknowledges it. But the boy is young, and Imin is oldest and first, with no one before him. He looks across to the calm face of his opponent and feels with mind instead of ears the steady heartbeat of the boy. Incredulous! that the boy has no fear. That the mind is as calm as the mask-like face, the heartbeat even, no trepidation to face his leader, no bravado to explain the boy’s presumptuous challenge. Not even the lake is this still, and Imin falters. It is a tiny thing, that uncertainty, which does not show on his face or body. But he is no longer first, alone, no one before him. Imin sees the boy across from him in the dueling ring.

‘Lo!’ he shouts in the quietest corner of his mind, as he feels the intention flow into the action, feels the other man stab forward with his spear, begins a strike than Imin cannot stop or deflect. ‘Here you are, my equal. I thought I was alone.’

The last thoughts of Imin, oldest of elves, as he falls dead to earth and his spirit flies west to a land of light, is this: ‘I am glad I was not. Lo! I see you. Ingwë.’

See First Chapter for Notes and Summary.

The people of his tribe would say two things about that act of Ingwë's mother, when she lost the use of her arm to drag her husband from the leopard's deadly embrace. First that Maktâmê did it for Alakô was her mate, and it was tribal lore that the first concern of a woman was to the one at her side, he that she saw first when she awoke. That he would always be the primary concern.^[3]

Second that it was foolish of her to do it. The man was too badly injured by the predator, and that by going after him all the woman truly accomplished was to injure herself and thus place two burdens upon her people instead of one. She would have better served her son and tribe and the legacy of her husband had she let him die that day, and kept her body strong and whole.

None said what should have been, and was, what the truth should have been said.

That there was one of the Kwendî screaming out in pain, and compassion would not allow anyone to stand aside, to attempt nothing to stop the pain of a fellow being.

That compassion was the greatest strength of her, and the greatest gift she gave into her daughter Indis.

The broken man that his tribe called terrible names like Skarwô and Ulgundô, Khyannô and Nukottô had been grievously injured in body, it is true. But the long years of pain had weakened his resolve and spirit. To be so cruelly shunned by one's only home, to have no hope of recovery, no one's strength could have mastered that in the end. Thus the woman with her scarred arms, one that was useless to lift and stroke the faces of her family, held onto the man as he sat by the edge of the camp. Her good arm would thread through his remaining fingers, squeezing them tight in her fear. The hand she held would rarely echo her gesture.

The father of the young man who would become Ingwë watched the waves that gently lapped the shores of the Great Mother Lake. One day, Skarnâ-Maktê knew, the despair would grow too great, that emptiness that she could not fill, not when there was so little spirit inside her as well, and her husband would walk into the embrace of the lake. When the suffering was too burdensome, the Kwendî already knew, one could abandon the body, return to the stars, or that darkness between. And yet the father of the man who would become Ingwë lingered, held back by the feeling of those fingers.

But his eye was empty and looked out upon the lake.

Their son could not watch. To the camps of the Tatyar and Nelyar he walked instead, to find peace among the forest or even to hunt alone among the tall grass, anything to avoid his home. To the Tatyar boy Finwë who had no parents, lost long ago in a tragedy forgotten, and raised as the clever and tolerated nephew of all and none, the man that would be Ingwë went and watched the younger man mold clay vessels for storing food and invent names for the markings Rúmil drew in the clay. To the Nelyar boy Elwë who had two younger brothers, the man that would be Ingwë went and helped his taller friend chase after the boys and their friends, to clean mud from their faces and learn to swim on the lake. Joy was to be hunted outside his village, thus knew the man that would be known as Ingwë Ingweron. He could not continue to bite his tongue and say nothing as the chieftain and highest among his tribe mocked his parents and him, not after he became a man grown. To improve his family's standing drove him like the need for air and water. And the man who would become Ingwë Ingweron could not bear to be witness to the last fading of his father.

One last attempt to save her husband did Maktâmê devise, and begged for another child. A child, she hoped, might give her husband a task to focus on, a reason to not fade. Or at least give her one. And perhaps she knew he was lost to her, and hoped to preserve that last bit of his spirit, create one more thing of joy, something that would be born unscarred.

This plan was mostly unspoken, for it would have been mocked if her tribe learned she wished a child from the weak and grotesque. "Neither of you have the strength for a child," they would have told her. That any child from two with inner fires so low and guttering would be one with a spirit so weakly glowing as to be embers easily stamped out. This was the wisdom of the tribes. But they were wrong, the woman knew, as she watched the first child of her and her husband approach. Her strong son, who carried three dead hares in his hand and knelt before them, swiftly and expertly skinning the animals, spitting the meat and roasting the flesh, then pulling off the best parts to feed his father. All the while with bright blue eyes that refused to release their tears. "My first son is powerful, and learned to make the hunting snares of Tatyar boy," the woman called Skarnâ-Maktê said.

To which, with a helplessness born from many mothers, the young man who would be called Ingwë corrected her, "The snares were from Belekô, a Nelyar."

"It does not matter if the child is not strong," Maktâmê said, "or brings home glory and gifts." Of heartbreaking loveliness was the smile she turned to her son, the one that glanced beyond him to where his father sat near the ring of campfires and picket stakes that ordained the border between the safety of the village and the dangers of the dark wild. "But that child would be mine, and of Alakô. A new life, like you, my son." She left unsaid that any chances for another child grew slim. That the call of the water and the darkness was stronger than her voice and her arms.

( Read more... )

Of the history of the Elves at Cuiviénen and the development of the the three tribes, of the family of Elwë and the discovery of Oromë, of how Indis received her name and Ingwë earned his, and of the honor duel between Imin and Ingwë to decide the leadership of the Minyar and the future of the Eldar.

Note: Some names and terms are in Primitive Elvish, but should be self-explanatory. I am using elements of the Cuivienyarna from the appendix of HoMe XI -plus other parts of HoMe- and the history of the Awakening of the Elves as presented in the Silm, with the one glaring difference - logically it makes more sense to me that the first three elves to awaken and lead the tribes are not the same three elves that go with Oromë. The Ingwë and Vanyar here are based off ideas outlined in this post - Klingon Promotions Among the Vanyar.
Though the focus is mostly Ingwë and his sister Indis, the story covers early life for everyone at Cuiviénen, especially Elu Thingol and his brothers.

The first tribe of Speakers, Kwendî, were never large in number, and their choices would keep their tribe small. In this time all elves lived near the shores of the Great Mother Lake which had birthed them, Cuiviénen, and there did most remain. Yet some chose to venture away, for in that time all elves were curious. But curiosity and hunger drew the people of the first tribe away from the safety of the lake more than all other elves and thus sealed their fate.

The first tribe was the Minyar, led by the First to awaken of all the Speakers, and Imin regretted that his people were never as many as those of other tribes. Tata was the leader of the second tribe, from which they were known as the Tatyar, and their numbers were great enough that more than one village needed to hold their numbers. Of the third tribe Enel was their chief, though so many were the third tribe that added together the first and second could not equal. The Nelyar thus had many villages spread across the shores of the Great Mother Lake. The Tatyar people with flat dark hair and pale skin delighted in all curiosities and new knowledge, and the third tribe found the sounds of water sweetest and thus clamored around the shore and paddled into the lake itself.

But the people of bronze and golden skin, with hair that shone light and golden when the great camp fires were lit, they were fearless. They were first to see the meat of animal kills and use the gift of voice to shout and frighten the scavengers away. They were first to decide to emulate hunters like the great cats and the wolves, to leave the echoing water and run through the fir forest and dark plains in search of prey. With the clear voices and the use of song the Minyar Kwendî called out the plans. With newly invented words they called the ideas of running ahead, of circling the prey and herding it, and of throwing from many hands as if one.

No other creature looked like them, walked on two feet and had hands that could grasp and throw and make. On the first hunt it was rocks to scatter the animals, like they had done to the other scavengers to claim old kills, and sharpened spears from branches and young saplings around their home. A Tatyar would find a way to lash the knapped stone scrapers the Kwendî were beginning to use as knives to make a sharper spear-point atop the wooden javelin. On the second hunt this spear would prove superior. The Minyar would learn to make these stone knives, but most traded with the Tatyar instead. The second tribe had not the skills of body strength, the understanding of animals both prey and predator, the songs and strategies of how to successfully hunt the best game. Better the Tatyar craftsmen spend their time on the spearheads and knives, for their hands were skilled to it and familiar, and the Minyar to the long hunts. Thus no time was wasted, and true talents matched of crafter and hunter. This was said to be the wisdom of the customs of the Speakers, the Kwendî, and none questioned it.

The Nelyar fished. In truth they accomplished more than that, for their careful tending of the water reeds and plants growing on the narrow rich land between shore and the surrounding woods was the beginning of agriculture. The Nelyar would tend the reeds to make woven goods like clothing and baskets and later the walls of their houses. Tubers and edible greens they also farmed, beginning to control the environment instead of the other way around.

The Minyar grew strong on the rich red meat of prey, drinking the thick blood and sucking the bone marrow. They would offer pieces of heart and liver and lung to the Tatyar craftsmen who gave them the spearheads. Not just stone, but tools and art of many materials became the province of the second tribe. Clay from the lakeshore baked in fire pits became hard enough for bricks and pots, and skilled hands learned to make many shapes and patterns. Once enough deer were killed and antlers gathered, bone weapons became common. Even the Tatyar children would expend their curiosity by hunting through the woods after rutting season, looking for discarded antlers to make into new tools and ornaments. Thus the character of the Noldor, of what the second tribe would value most, was given its foundations.

But to leave the sight and hearing range of Cuiviénen, to run after the great deer and horse and boar, was dangerous. Not only was such big game dangerous to the hunters, where a kick or tusk of an animal even fatally captured could injury an unwary Minyar tracker, but the Kwendî were not the only hunters on the plains. Great beasts, monsters of horn and ivory dying the earth with blood^[1], also competed with the Minyar for prey, or saw these Kwendî as food. Hunters, both male and female for in those days and indeed forever after for the first tribe saw no difference of gender in the skill of a runner to defeat the swift deer or an arm that could hurl a spear, were lost to the violence, and thus the first tribe was never able to grow in number like their kin who did not venture into danger.

And the best illustration of this is the story of the mother and father of those we would later name Ingwë and his sister Indis.

( Read more... )

Before I can (cross)-post "Of Ingwë Ingweron" and all my other stories centered around the time before the Great Journey, I must explain a headcanon that became the bedrock upon which all else is built. It was built off some ideas about the Vanyar and my ideas and opinions about Cuiviénen, then once I mulled over some thoughts, I landed on what I swear is not a crack theory.

Ingwë is a Stone-Cold Killer, or Klingon Style Promotions Among the Vanyar

The Cuivienyarna presents the first three elves to awaken as immediately partnered with a corresponding spouse, and together these couples are the finders, founders, and leaders of the three tribes. The Three are Imin (and Iminyë) for Minyar/Vanyar, Tata (and Tatië) for Tatyar/Noldor, and Enel (and Enelyë) for Nelyar/Teleri. The most popular fan concepts are that the first Unbegotten elves are allegorical figures or if actual characters then are not alternative names for Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë but their immediate predecessors. Treating these three (six if counting their spouses) as purely allegorical will work, roughly, because the Cuivienyarna is supposed to be the simplified story that teaches counting to young elven children. But I think simplifying their existence to allegory only really applies to their names and a glossing over of political reality. And misses out on developing any real story set in Cuiviénen. If they are real historical people, then matching the First Unbegotten -Imin, Tata, and Enel- to the later trio of Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë ...doesn't work. At least not for Finwë and certainly not Elwë. But the alternative never sat easy with me. Because if Imin, Tata, and Enel exist as separate characters, why are they never heard of again or influence events in the Silmarillion? At least whomever they were based on, those shadowy first tribal leaders of the elves - who cannot be the Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë for reasons I will soon explain. The common fan theory is to make Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë (plus Olwë and Elmo) the sons or grandsons of these legendary first leaders of the three elven tribes. Or work around the problems of siblings in Ingwë's case with Indis and Elwë's two younger brothers, not to mention the disappearance of wives, and say that the Three are the same characters. Either Ingwë is Imin’s son, or just another name for Ingwë. But not even Ingwë fits perfectly into the silhouette of Imin. Or pretend that Tatië and certainly Enelyë don't exist. (For if Enel is Elu -highly unlikely- then wherefore can Melian and her love be?)

Now I’ll admit I first fell into this trap of saying Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë were the heirs of the leaders of their tribes. That this family tie was why the three were chosen as ambassadors to go with Oromë and why the elves of their kindred followed them. But it is said only this: that Oromë picked the three, and that after they came back from Valinor with tales of that land and the light of the Two Trees now in their eyes, the elves of Cuiviénen listened and followed them as leaders. The implication becomes clear. Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë were not leaders of the elves until after returning from Valinor. And no reason is given as for why Oromë chose them. (Or if they weren't volunteered or volunteered to go.)

So what? Did the elves have no leaders before Oromë's arrival? Please. Elves are social beings. There might not be a formal hierarchical structure yet, if one really wants to stretch credulity, but there would be leaders. Maybe not permanent leaders, not a single leader for every category of decision facing the group, but they exist. And if the elves were a settled community, as hints of the language might suggest, the necessity of some Initial Three Bigwigs can't be denied. So the ruling families might be but one generation, but there would be present those personages most looked to for leadership, and they will be called by their Cuivienyarna names for ease of convenience.

Back to the supposition of Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë as the sons and heirs of the leaders, that headcanon so popular to fic writers would don't ignore the Cuivienyarna but aren't willing to twist the story to make them the same figures. The headcanon I dropped. What if our three, Ingwë, Finwë, Elwë, are not at all related to the ruling families of the three tribes? That these three are on the social outskirts of the tribes, low-ranking members among their groups. Young men with ambition and drive, but little chance for opportunities. And if one or all are orphans as well, dodging the issue of an Elwë with two brothers but no parents, no recorded parents for Finwë or Ingwë, all the better to explain why there are none with authority over the three kings or to whom they turn to for counsel or must share power with in Valinor. Because it was getting unrealistic to lose all three original leaders to the Black Riders, unless in one fell swoop, or have all three choose not to follow their sons to Valinor.
And add the fact that the elves had no guarantee that those going with Oromë to Valinor would or could return or how long that they would be gone. You would not want to send a person in authority away, especially if they are either leading the tribe or depended up in an assisting role- or just to be around in case something happens to the leader. Elwë, perhaps, as he had two younger brothers as spares to the heir, and thus his loss would not be a permanently fatal blow to the running of his tribe. But this crisis would still happen to the Teleri anyway, permanently dividing their tribe and psychologically scarring them. Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë are scouts. You don't send the most important people out as scouts, people you need to be leading the tribe and nascent villages while waiting for the scouts to return with news. Send out trusted people, perhaps. Maybe your heirs. Depends on how callous one imagines the early elves, and just how great the uncertainty Oromë's offer is. Is he promising a hyper-quick visit with guarantees of their swift safe return? How much do the elves, so recently plagued by abductions by Dark Riders, truly trust that promise?

So Oromë picks (or is offered) the three that are not necessary for their tribes’ continued survival, three young men from each group who are eager for the chance at something greater.

Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë go to Valinor, bask in the light of the Two Trees, and grow stronger and wiser and more powerful. They desire to return to Cuiviénen and convince their people to follow them back to Aman. They return with the goal of gaining followers, of convincing the Eldar in their tribal groups to follow them so that they may live under the Two Trees and away from the shores of Cuiviénen. They return as the Three Prophets.
And the three leaders of the Minyar, Tayar, and Nelyar are going to see the young men as dangerous threats to their authority, rebellious and seditious upstarts trying to steal their power and leadership. Raging debates would occur as the tribal kings tried to silence these three prophets. Over time, both Finwë and Elwë (who has his brother Olwë as the Aaron to his Moses, so to speak) use speeches to convince about half the members of their tribes to abandon the authority of the true leaders and commit to going to Aman. The Tatyar and Nelyar that do not convert become the Avari, the Unwilling, staying under the leadership of Tata and Enel, knowing that they were the true elves and that those the took to the march were deserters and also rebels.

We know the Avari are equal parts the Tatyar that stay and Nelyar, and none are Minyar.

And here is where the most radical point comes in- for all of the Minyar chose to go with Ingwë to Valinor. Which means we can’t have a Imin and Iminyë, that arrogant hypothetical first elf ever awakened, still leading the Minyar unless we decide Imin and Ingwë are one and the same (which makes Indis a daughter or granddaughter). Is then Iminyë ruling as queen as the Minyar let their king go off to the unknown with a strange power, one that is of the same kindred as those frightening riders? Okay, but then we say Imin is Ingwë, but Tata isn't Finwë and Enel isn't Elwë, that only the first couple is real and the other two are stories or that our sets of trios must be unequally mixed. No, we must keep Imin and Ingwë as separate characters.

Which means Imin has to die.

...Or at least be permanently removed from power among the elves, for Ingwë will be held forever more as High King of All the Eldar.

And how is Imin going to die and to leave the power vacuum for Ingwë to step in, thus allowing Ingwë to gather all of the Minyar under him to move en-mass to Valinor? Especially when Melkor has been chained away, removing that immediate threat and oh so convenient tool to remove Imin. When debates are raging among the elves of Cuiviénen of whether to stay or go.

And that's when I had the idea for the elegantly simple solution.

Ingwë kills Imin, takes his place as king.

(**insert Lion King gif**)

( Read more... )

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Entries tagged with young bucks of cuiviénen

tumblr cross-post: Ingwë versus Elwë

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Of Ingwë Ingweron - Chapter 2

Of Ingwë Ingweron - Chapter 1

Klingon Promotions Among the Vanyar