hhimring: Estel, inscription by D. Salo (Default)
[personal profile] hhimring posting in [community profile] tolkien100
Title : Inventing Gondolin
Author : Himring
Fandom/Source : The Silmarillion, History of Middle-earth
Rating : PG13
Characters : Salgant, Maeglin
Disclaimer : Tolkien's characters (no offence intended, no monetary recompense received).
Spoilers/Warnings : For the chapter ‘Of Maeglin’.
Summary :  Maeglin begins to talk. Sequel to Lemon Tarts of Gondolin, but can probably be understood on its own. (2 x 100)

‘You’ve stopped talking to me, Salgant.’
‘You didn’t seem all that entertained...’
‘True, I wasn’t entertained, but I was trying to follow, trying to work out why things were meant to be funny.
I thought I knew Gondolin, Salgant. I’d imagined it all, from my mother’s stories. Uncle Turgon was just like my father, only without the not-so-good bits, and I’d convinced myself there was a place waiting for me here. Here, I’d fit right in! Then we arrived and I realized right away, even before…
I’d invented Gondolin, Salgant, out of whole cloth. The city was nothing like that.’

‘Your mother had left things out?’
It was still strange—wrenching—to think of their lady Ar-Feiniel in Nan Elmoth and worse, knowing the end of it.
‘My mother left things out in her stories, yes—fewer major things than you might think, but so many small ones that it did not even occur to her to mention. And I asked no questions, or the wrong ones, content to believe Gondolin would be Nan Elmoth, only with more room to breathe… ’
‘You’ll get used to us in time.’
‘Maybe. Keep talking, Salgant, as I try to work things out.’

Date: 2018-02-10 03:23 pm (UTC)
liadt: Fuji Maiden by Tamasaburo propped on elbow looking to right of frame (Richard III hug)
From: [personal profile] liadt
Ace:)

Aw, poor Maeglin not fitting in anywhere and finding Gondolin wasn't as he hoped and now he's stuck!

Date: 2018-02-10 11:26 pm (UTC)
fredbassett: (Default)
From: [personal profile] fredbassett
but I was trying to follow, trying to work out why things were meant to be funny.

I love the sense of dissociation that this conjures up.

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