ext_1182 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
espresso-addict.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2005-01-14 02:01 pm
espresso-addict.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2005-01-14 02:01 pm
Entry tags:
Falling by Maureen Lycaon (PG-13)
Fandom: SILMARILLION
Pairing: None
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
maureenlycaon
Author Website: Maureen Lycaon's Fanfiction & Erotica
Why this must be read:
A completely different take on a scene from the well-known tale of Beren & Luthien -- a vignette this time. I'm a great fan of stories that essay the enemy's viewpoint, and 'Falling' is a good example. It's intriguing to see Luthien & Huan through the eyes -- and nose -- of Draugluin, Sauron's chief werewolf. The author also gives us some plausible speculations into the possible origins of Tolkien's werewolves. Still more impressively, the story forces the reader to empathise with a creature dismissed as Evil Cannon Fodder in the original texts, so that the inevitable end becomes strangely moving.
At first, he thinks he has fallen asleep before his Liege's throne and is dreaming.
He hears a faint, distant, sweet-voiced singing, and knows an old memory of joy. He stirs and sighs. Then he feels that song reverberating through the very stone of the great tower, making it quiver like the plucked strings of a harp -- and he knows it is no dream.
The sorrow swells a hundredfold into sudden anguish at the beauty of that unearthly music.
The Sire of Werewolves leaps to his paws and stands there before the throne, bristling. He clenches his jaws, holding back the sorrowful howl that seeks to rise in his throat. Two of his kin are howling helplessly, their voices filled with the same anguish he himself feels. The other werewolves crouch with their tails dipping between their legs, reeking of their own pain. The orcs cannot conceal their fear, though they manage not to run: their eyes are wide, showing the whites in rings around the irises, their talons tightening on their spears. They look uneasily about the hall, at each other, at the throne.
Falling
Pairing: None
Author on LJ:
maureenlycaonAuthor Website: Maureen Lycaon's Fanfiction & Erotica
Why this must be read:
A completely different take on a scene from the well-known tale of Beren & Luthien -- a vignette this time. I'm a great fan of stories that essay the enemy's viewpoint, and 'Falling' is a good example. It's intriguing to see Luthien & Huan through the eyes -- and nose -- of Draugluin, Sauron's chief werewolf. The author also gives us some plausible speculations into the possible origins of Tolkien's werewolves. Still more impressively, the story forces the reader to empathise with a creature dismissed as Evil Cannon Fodder in the original texts, so that the inevitable end becomes strangely moving.
At first, he thinks he has fallen asleep before his Liege's throne and is dreaming.
He hears a faint, distant, sweet-voiced singing, and knows an old memory of joy. He stirs and sighs. Then he feels that song reverberating through the very stone of the great tower, making it quiver like the plucked strings of a harp -- and he knows it is no dream.
The sorrow swells a hundredfold into sudden anguish at the beauty of that unearthly music.
The Sire of Werewolves leaps to his paws and stands there before the throne, bristling. He clenches his jaws, holding back the sorrowful howl that seeks to rise in his throat. Two of his kin are howling helplessly, their voices filled with the same anguish he himself feels. The other werewolves crouch with their tails dipping between their legs, reeking of their own pain. The orcs cannot conceal their fear, though they manage not to run: their eyes are wide, showing the whites in rings around the irises, their talons tightening on their spears. They look uneasily about the hall, at each other, at the throne.
Falling