In Shadows Lurking Behind the Stars
By Glorfindel's Girl
Disclaimer: All characters and places are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien and his estate. I am making no money from the publication of this story.
Author's Note: Yet another one of those ideas which strike you at three in the morning just as you're drifting off to sleep. Probably a little A/U. My sincerest apologies to all Tolkien purists (and yes, I'm actually one of them believe it or not) who find this story and my explanations a little hard to digest. After reading it several times, it still strikes me as a very bizarre piece of writing, and I'm not quite sure where it came from. If anyone's looking to archive dark LOTR/Silm fan fiction, feel free to help yourself to this puppy. Just be sure and email me first. It didn't quite turn out like I expected it to, and I feel like it's still lacking something. Any suggestions will be greatly appreciated. Go on. See if you can figure out where this one's going…
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"Creature of beauty
Tormented by the Darkness
What have you become?"
I revealed myself to her today, this child of forest and starlight, whom I have pursued in secret for the past days. I revealed myself to her, and she did not know me. Do not ask me why I did so, love! I am not sure that I know why myself.
What did I expect? A glimmer of recognition? Some sign that she knew the kinship of the blood flowing in our veins? Perhaps, perhaps. But I saw nothing. Only fear, and revulsion at this twisted, evil thing which I have become. Brave and dauntless she has proved, yet she did not hide her terror – her desire to flee from me.
Have I transgressed so far that I am completely unfamiliar to these creatures of beauty? Oh my love, have we truly fallen so far? Surely one who still remembers the light cannot be lost without hope of salvation! Can you not remember the brilliance of the Trees, my love?
Oh, I can remember the light of the Trees…the winds of Manwë… Ah, Manwë, Elbereth, Yavanna, Lórien, Melian, Arien, Tilion…do you remember those names? Or have they become nothing more than a long strand of strange sounds and syllables? Oh, love, are you that far gone? How can you be so far gone, and yet I still remain?
But perhaps I understand. For when the shadow fell upon us and we fled those fair Western shores…you did so because you craved power. I followed you because of love. Though I too was eventually seduced by the desire for power. And see what has become of us? Can you not see all that remains? A twisted, tormented, evil…creature. But perhaps buried within my soul, a glimmer of that original intent still remains. Perhaps. Perhaps not.
Why did I reveal myself to the girl? You already know the answer; I see it burning in your eyes. You knew as soon as I entered the room without my cloak 'round my shoulders. And what do you think of me now, love? Do I appear strange and twisted even in your eyes? How can I not when I am even to my own eyes. We trusted in power, my love, and we were betrayed. We are nothing but a lie
But we are the truth, you say, drawing me to the dark, dusty mirror. Look at us, you say. We are truth. We are Power. We are beauty. It is they who are the lie.
And so I look in the mirror. I see you standing behind me, my love, tall and proud still. Your skin sharply pale against your dark hair, eyes shining like polished emeralds, your features so perfect that you appear to be a carved statue.
And I see myself. My skin, smooth and flawless as ivory. My hair, flowing in dark rivers over my shoulders, falling like a black waterfall down my back. My own features almost unbearably fair. My lips the color of blood, my eyes the grey of a starless night. It is a lie. For I can see past this fair exterior, just as the girl could. She did not see a near mirror image of herself standing before her. No, she saw past this false beauty to my true essence coursing through my being like a poisoned spring. That evil, that mockery of what was once good and light is all she could see. And such will become of you, if you falter but for a moment, was the unspoken message between us. We are nothing but a lie, love.
No, no. We are beauty. We are the truth, you repeat. And you speak the words with such conviction that for a moment I almost believe it. But then I see my eyes reflected back in the mirror. But for them, I would be near identical to the girl. But no. Her eyes held the light of the stars, a glimmer of Valinor lost.
Once my eyes reflected the light of the stars. Now I see only darkness, cold and impenetrable. This is all the confirmation I need. I know that I am lost beyond all hope of salvation. Love and light are gone. Thuringwethiel is all that remains.
~Finis~
Endnotes: So right about now, you're probably either going "Whoa! How awesome!!" Or you're going "What the hell was that about?" So, with the former in mind, I shall endeavor to explain some of this story. The main question you're probably going to have is "All right, who was she supposed to be talking to the whole time?" Answer: Sauron, of course. Second question you've probably got is "Who was the girl she kept referring to?" Answer: Luthien. And now for the serious explanations. This story is the culmination of two different ideas I've been playing with for some time.
Fact: Thuringwethiel was, like Sauron, a 'fallen' Maia. Fact: Melian (that would be Luthien's mother, if you're not too familiar with the Slim) was also a Maia. Now, for a while the question of just precisely how Luthien managed to convincingly disguise herself as Thuringwethiel (Aside from the whole shape shifting courtesy of Huan the wonder dog thing). For that matter, how did she manage to get her shape shifting cloak in the first place?
Let's look at it this way. We've got Thuringwethiel whose name means "Woman of the Secret Shadow." And we've got Melian who was all about shadows and twilight too. (Oh man…do you see where I'm going with this?) So I put 2 and 2 together and came up with these two Maiar who were "akin before the world was made." Forgive me if this is a little far-fetched for some of you more hard-core purists. This explains why, in this story, Thuringwethiel bears a strong resemblance to Luthien. This would also help in explaining why Luthien was able to disguise herself so convincingly as Thuringwethiel.
When you look at it from that possible angle, Melkor's later lust for Luthien after sensing her beauty takes on a far more chilling perspective. His lust now results not merely as result of sensing her physical beauty (which Thuringwethiel possesses as well) – but for her spiritual and inner beauty (which is the way I always interpretated that particular passage in the Silm anyway.) He desires to corrupt that innocence and inner beauty, just as he did with Thuringwethiel. Maybe it's just me, but I find that thought very chilling.
As to how Luthien got the cloak…that's another story entirely….