On Saturday, October 8, 2022 at 7:30PM ET, Paleyfest NY will feature a preview screening of Episode #107 of Amazon Prime’s “Lord of the Rings: Rings of Power” followed by a conversation and Q&A with cast members.

Cast members joining the conversation and Q&A include:

Cynthia Addai-Robinson, “Queen Regent Míriel”
Nazanin Boniadi, “Bronwyn”
Ismael Cruz Córdova, “Arondir”
Charles Edwards, “Lord Celebrimbor”
Leon Wadham, “Kemen”
Daniel Weyman, “The Stranger”
Sara Zwangobani, “Marigold Brandyfoot”

If you’ll be in New York on October 8, head on over the the Paley Center website for tickets: https://www.paleycenter.org/events/pfny-2022 Tickets are on sale to Paley Individual, Family, and Supporting Members Thursday, Sept. 29 at 12:00 noon. They will go on sale to the general public Friday, Sept. 30 at 12:00 noon.

The following is a guest post from Grace Khuri:

Now that half of season 1 of The Rings of Power has been released there is more than enough thought-provoking material to inspire fascinating discussions and spur vigorous debates.

Adar (Joseph Mawle) in Prime Video’s The Rings of Power – courtesy of Prime Video

Who is Adar?

In episode 4, we are formally introduced to the great elf of mystery, Adar, superbly acted by Joseph Mawle. There has been fervent and tireless speculation regarding this figure’s identity: his armour suggests he is one of the Noldor and his casting breakdown characterized him as having an air of “fallen nobility.” Is he one of Galadriel’s brothers? Or perhaps Maglor, Fëanor’s second eldest son, an infamous figure wandering the world in remorse over his family’s oath-driven crimes and grieving his dead father and brothers? Or is he merely a composite of various “problem elves” from The Silmarillion like Eöl, Maeglin, and the Fëanorians?  

Ancient grief and suffering

Whatever the case, Adar is portrayed as a tortured and complex figure full of turbulent memories and sorrow, but also ambition. When his blurred face comes into focus for the first time, it is deeply engraved with the markings of ancient grief and past physical suffering. His arrival to quickly (and surprisingly with great remorse) dispatch a slowly dying orc seems a continuation of some still hidden traumatic personal history. Perhaps his subsequent conversation with the captive Arondir is punctuated by noted silences and elliptical statements because of his own trauma.    

In a second, much shorter scene, Adar watches a caged warg devour what appears to be the arm of one of Arondir’s recently fallen comrades. Disturbingly, Adar views the atrocity not with a blank, numbed stare, or perhaps even a hint of sadness, but with a glint of malignant pleasure. In spite of the phenomenal costuming, makeup, cast and acting, here enters the problem of Adar.

The “spell of bottomless dread”

Many elves of the First Age were captured and tortured by Morgoth, signs of which are physically and emotionally apparent on Adar; in earlier iterations of The Silmarillion like The Book of Lost Tales (written c. 1917-1919), numerous elves were placed under the “spell of bottomless dread” – a state of spiritual terror that all but guaranteed that any who escaped (or were intentionally released) continued to perform the will of their captor. Because of this spell, many such elves were mistrusted by their own people and forced to live as outcasts.

Maeglin

In The Fall of Gondolin (1917), the elf prince Meglin (older variant of Maeglin) is captured and put under the spell to ensure he will follow through on his commitment to aid Morgoth’s siege. When he is sent back, he lives in misery and terror until the time is ripe for the attack. In the later variant of the story published in The Silmarillion, the captive Maeglin, “no weakling or craven”, relents at the threat of what is implied to be some extreme torture. Tolkien’s surprising characterizations of Maeglin as “wise in counsel” and “hardy and valiant in need” reveal admirable qualities in an otherwise unredeemable figure. Tolkien’s moral tragedy not only endows villainous figures with psychological realism, but expresses implicit regret over the good qualities being snuffed out by their own failings and Morgoth’s corrupting influence.

Gwindor

Adar also resembles the First Age elf Gwindor, a lord of Nargothrond who fought in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears (which Tolkien biographer John Garth, in his book Tolkien and the Great War, has linked with the Battle of the Somme). A heartbreaking portrait of a war-hero turned marred captive, Gwindor witnesses the brutal, public execution of his brother in battle and wrathfully charges the gates of Angband, where he is captured and held as a labouring thrall for a long period. He later escapes and is found by Túrin Turambar’s elf friend, the hunter Beleg Cuthalion:

Grieving Beleg looked upon him; for Gwindor was now but a bent and fearful shadow of his former shape and mood, when in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad that lord of Nargothrond rode with rash courage to the very doors of Angband…. 

 (The Silmarillion, Chapter 21: “Of Túrin Turambar”)

Over the course of the narrative, “strength and courage” return to this broken figure Gwindor, but his suffering continues as he watches the love of his life, Finduilas, turn her affections away from him to the (physically) unmarred Túrin.

Captives, POWs, and war veterans

This deeply affecting portrait echoes the many valiant young men coming home from WWI’s Battle of the Somme and other fields of war broken in body and mind, and, in many cases, greatly disfigured. Indeed, more widely, Tolkien’s portrayal of First Age elves includes their suffering as captives, P.O.W.s, and war veterans, echoing real-life soldiers returning (or not returning) from the torn battlefields of France and Belgium.

Depictions of violence against deceased elves are treated with horror and associated with the deepest darkness; Morgoth gives fallen elven heroes to his demon wolves. Sauron perpetrates similar atrocities, sending werewolves to devour the brave elven company of Finrod Felagund. But no captive or even the most morally-corrupt elf in The Silmarillion sinks to the utterly debased enjoyment of beholding post-mortem desecration. This was reserved for the dark lords themselves.

Grossly out of character for Tolkien

If we accept the proposition that Adar is a P.O.W. from the First Age, his disturbing reaction to a warg devouring the remains of a fellow elf is grossly out of character for Tolkienian portrayals of such figures. Adar’s hideous reaction in this scene is something that not even the worst fallen Elves of The Silmarillion would have exhibited, even the violent sons of Fëanor or the treacherous father and son, Eöl and Maeglin.

Written as is, it reflects a profound misunderstanding of Tolkien’s depictions of the captivity, trauma, and moral corruption of the Firstborn. Perhaps the writers attempted to “Game of Thrones-ize” this Noldorin Elf with this bit of gratuitous horror, part of a wider cycle of gruesome scenes in other episodes, by adding more prurient depictions of violence whilst just managing to stay within the TV-14 rating.

A grave disservice to Tolkien’s literary legacy

This second Adar scene not only exhibits a grave misrepresentation of traumatized First Age elves, worse still (although surely unintentionally), it does a grave disservice to Tolkien and his literary legacy. Amongst many Tolkien scholars, it is commonly believed that the valiant but doomed elves were modelled on the real young men made “perpetually youthful” due to their premature deaths in battle. 

In his 1936 British Academy lecture, “Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics,” Tolkien himself obliquely pointed to this connection when he said, “Even today…you may find men not ignorant of tragic legend and history, who have heard of heroes and indeed seen them.” Tolkien’s doomed elven warriors are the mythologized equivalents of the fallen youth depicted in British soldier Laurence Binyon’s “For the Fallen” (1914):

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,

Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;

They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

With this in view, portraying a depraved Adar smirking at mutilation and post-mortem desecration is not in the spirit of Tolkien’s authorship, himself a war veteran who wrote in a letter of the “animal horror” of the Somme, where he served.

Empathy and sadness

Due to his experiences, Tolkien featured noted scenes of violence in his legendarium with the empathy and sadness of one who had seen the bodies of countless wounded, mutilated, and dead youth. This, I believe, is why The Silmarillion includes such poignant episodes depicting the retrieval of bodies of noted elven heroes like Fingolfin and Glorfindel. After Fingolfin’s valiant but doomed fight with Morgoth, the dark lord “took the body of the Elven-king and broke it, and would cast it to his wolves,” but Manwë’s chief eagle, Thorondor, prevents this atrocity, returning Fingolfin to his son Turgon, who then “built a high cairn over his father” which “No orc dared ever after […] draw nigh” (The Silmarillion, Chapter 18: “Of the Ruin of Beleriand and the Fall of Fingolfin”).

Such incidents were likely influenced by heart-wrenching recollections of the significance of finding dead soldiers on foreign battlefields from which so many were never recovered. Tolkien’s own two closest friends, Robert Quilter Gilson (d. July 1, 1916) and Geoffrey Bache Smith (d. December 3, 1916) perished in France and had proper burials, but others Tolkien knew did not (note that the body of Fingon, Fingolfin’s son, was never recovered).

Time for deeper reflections

In their choices regarding depictions of violence, if the writers of this show would like to continue in a more Tolkienian vein, it may help to reflect more deeply on the real events and casualties behind the Somme battlefield-like images they re-created as well as Tolkien’s tradition of historically-inspired elven P.O.W.s, which are the template for Adar. Rather than succumbing to the temptation to emulate darker, more prurient fantasy series like Game of Thrones or its successor, House of the Dragon, it is my hope that in the future the showrunners will take a higher road in relation to the source material they are adapting, remembering its more poignant and tragic origins.

Postcript: Heart of Darkness (spoilers)

The piece above was written before the release of episode 5, where Adar plays a larger, and still darker, role. Even with the newest episode, critical questions remain unanswered.

In line with this episode’s title,“Partings,” Adar’s first scene is symbolically rendered as he stands at the edge of a forest gazing into the sun in a prolonged mesmerized state. His face is filled with the sun’s glow, in contrast to the orc -completely intolerant to sunlight- who stands hooded, with its back turned. Adar, commands the orc to uncover its arm, which burns and smokes in the sunlight, and says, “I wish you could feel it like I do – for soon it will be gone – and with it, the part of me that knew its warmth as well. I shall miss it.”

Adar in The Rings of Power Episode 5, mesmerized by sunlight. Courtesy Prime Video.

A twilight in Adar’s soul

This profound statement marks a twilight in Adar’s soul, as he is about to make his final descent into moral darkness, choosing to snuff out any last remnants of conscience and nobility. His pensive response to the blazing sunlight, which bathes his face in a way that recalls his once unfallen state, is so striking that it seems possible that he, as one of the Noldor, is recalling the light of the Two Trees of Valinor. This conjecture is supported by the fact that, in an earlier episode, Galadriel herself says she can still feel the warmth of the Trees on her face.

Adar’s equation of the quenching of the light with the extinguishment of his former self reveals a hint of regret; if his emotional reaction to the sun is at all laden with memory of the Trees, it is also symbolically weighted with The Silmarillion’s potent themes of exile and Fall. The destruction of the Two Trees by Morgoth marked not only the “Darkening of Valinor,” but also the moral darkening of Adar’s kin, the Noldor. Adar’s remaining scenes in this episode are notably all at night, marking his descent into deeper inner darkness. However, there is another problem which needs to be thoughtfully addressed by the writers.

Adar exhibiting his heart of darkness. Courtesy Prime Video.

And a third time

Waldreg, a Sauron loyalist, leads a group of Southlanders to Adar, mistaking him for the dark lord. Adar’s eyes burn with subdued anger as the group approaches and he turns his back when Waldreg addresses him. If the writers are hearkening back to the First Age, these men may be the descendants of those who betrayed the Noldor at the Battle of Unnumbered Tears centuries earlier, possibly explaining Adar’s reaction.

Delighting in the prospect of his people being raised out of the “muck and the filth”, Waldreg tells Adar that they can now, “… take their rightful place at your side.” At this last statement, Adar’s downcast eyes flit upwards, and when an increasingly doubtful Waldreg asks, “You are Sauron, are you not?” Adar snaps. The elf whips around and rushes at Waldreg, violently slamming him to the ground.

What Adar does next is, again, out of character for even the darkest elven villains of The Silmarillion, being more characteristic of Sauron and Morgoth. Adar grabs Theo’s young friend, Rowan, forces him to his knees in front of Waldreg, and throws a dagger at the old man, declaring, “Only blood can bind.”

Strangely, this does not involve Waldreg’s blood: instead, he must prove his fealty by enacting a blood oath using human sacrifice, just like the Southlanders’ dark past of Morgoth-allegiance, and embodied in stone relief at Ostirith of a sword piercing a prostrate victim. Adar’s requirement that Waldreg shed someone else’s blood is not attributable to any vindictive logic of revenge, as Rowan is not Waldreg’s son or relative; instead, it forces Waldreg into debased cruelty. Some would argue that this choice indicates Adar’s inner orcishness, not yet fully manifested in his physical appearance, which largely retains its elvish characteristics.

Please explain. Carefully.

However, this disturbingly Sauron-like behavior (whose very name reignites Adar’s ancient, suppressed wrath) needs to be carefully explained in future episodes. Elves, especially the Noldor, were famed for their fierce hatred of Morgoth and his servants, and were not lightly turned to the outright diabolical viciousness Adar exhibits. In Tolkien’s writings, unlike men, elves were generally only swayed to commit such deeds of orcish barbarity (here infused with malevolent spiritual darkness) by coercion-based corrupting influence, as with Maeglin.

While the show may imply that Adar seeks to take Sauron’s place and achieve the same level of god-like power, the audience needs to see why Adar is emulating the devilish cruelty of the being (likely his former tormenter) he hates so much. This necessitates more detailed exposition informed by a thoughtful engagement with Tolkien’s writings. The audience is shown the end of Adar’s character arc; it now needs to see the hidden history and undeveloped subtext unfold (perhaps in flashbacks to an uncorrupted Adar in the First Age) in order to do justice to Tolkien’s depictions of such figures in his mythology. Without that, the writers would be woefully remiss in their handling of Tolkienian moral tragedy.

Guest author Grace Khuri is a doctoral researcher at the University of Oxford writing the first Ph.D. thesis on Tolkien at that institution. Her work considers the symbiotic influences of Old Norse mythology and the First World War on the ‘Silmarillion’ corpus and how these inform and enrich its dynastic tragedies and falls of kingdoms. Her interests include Old Norse myth and sagas, First World War cultural and military history, medieval literature, medievalism, filmmaking, and film criticism. You can reach her at grace.khuri@ell.ox.ac.uk.  

Robert Aramayo as Elrond, The Rings of Power, Amazon Prime

Examining the minutiae of Tolkien adaptations has long been a tradition at TheOneRing.net. Staff, message boarders and chatters on our site have regularly picked over scenes and images from the films and this tradition continues with The Rings of Power. Today, however, the discussions take place in multiple arenas all over the internet. Recently, on Twitter, MGCoco* shared an interesting theory about Elrond’s cloak.

Twitter post by MGCoco*. Used with permission.

Other Tolkien fans loved this theory, with some noting how the cloak is “way more worn than the rest of the clothes” he wears and speculating that we may learn more at a future date.

Others took this theory even further, speculating that Elros may have been buried in his cloak and how Elrond still wears his as a “silent vigil over his brother’s legacy”. They go on to raise an interesting point that the lore never touches on Elrond’s feelings over his twin having chosen mortality and there being no chance of them ever being reunited, not even in the Halls of Mandos.

Tweet reply to MGCoco*. Used with permission.

MGCoco* also noted how Elrond then goes on to watch over the remaining heirs of Elros in Middle-earth, helping to hide the line of Isildur. Other fans stated that:

“It paints a beautiful, if somewhat bittersweet, mental image. Really gives one a sense of the sheer depth of his character too.”

Claiomh Dubh via Twitter

Delving into a closer look of a characters costume, can lead to far more than just an appreciation of a piece of clothing.

Join us on our Discord channel to discuss this and other topics with fellow Tolkien fans.

If you have a Tolkien/Middle-earth inspired poem you’d like to share, then send it to poetry@theonering.net. One poem per person may be submitted each month. Please make sure to proofread your work before sending it in. TheOneRing.net is not responsible for poems posting with spelling or grammatical errors.

Back in the earlier days of TORn – probably roughly during our Second Age – there were all kinds of exciting events which happened, both when Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings movies were originally in cinemas, and in the years which followed. There was much excitement when the live performances of Howard Shore’s incredible score started; and then they started presenting the movies with live orchestra accompaniment. Those were heady days!

And now – they’re back!

Next February, to celebrate the 21st anniversary of The Fellowship of the Ring, the movie will screen with live orchestra at Radio City Music Hall in New York. Here below are the details from the press release:

21st Anniversary Concert: THE LORD OF THE RINGS: The Fellowship of the Ring In Concert

Academy Award-Winning Score By HOWARD SHORE, performed Live to the Epic Motion Picture with SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA, CHORUS, SOLOISTS

Ludwig Wicki, Conductor

238 MUSICIANS ONSTAGE BENEATH A 60-FOOT SCREEN

Radio City Music Hall, New York FEBRUARY 6-7, 2023

Celebrating the 21st anniversary of The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, Howard Shore’s Academy award-winning score will be presented live, in concert. Experience the epic motion picture and its legendary score at the historic Radio City Music Hall, beneath a 60-foot screen accompanied by 238 musicians, including symphony orchestra, chorus and soloists, this coming February 6 & 7, 2023.

“The world is changed.” This very first line of The Fellowship of the Ring has new meaning for a fan community waiting for a return to live events. The 2023 concerts will mark the return of The Lord of the Rings, In Concert, to NYC for the first time since 2015. These returning concert events of The Fellowship of the Ring will bring 6,000 fans a night to see, hear, and feel Howard Shore’s epic score from the opening title through the end credits, in person once again.

The Fellowship of the Ring, In Concert, is represented by CAMI Music, who is partnering with Fifth Season and Bowery Presents to bring these performances to life at Radio City Music Hall.

The Fellowship of the Ring, In Concert, will be conducted by Ludwig Wicki, who was the inaugural conductor of The Fellowship of the Ring, In Concert, and specializes in bringing films and their scores to life. Orchestra, soloists, and chorus for the 2023 performances at Radio City Music Hall will be announced at a later date.

Howard Shore commented on the return of The Fellowship of the Ring, In Concert to New York City: “The concerts on February 6th and 7th, 2023 will bring Maestro Ludwig Wicki back to NYC’s historic Radio City Music Hall leading a symphony orchestra, chorus, and soloists. Based in the city of Lucerne, Switzerland, where we first performed the complete score to the theatrical version of the film in 2008, Maestro Wicki is the foremost conductor of this score-to-film concert. Over the years he has worked to perfect this music and his precision, detail and supreme musicianship will be on display at Radio City. I am so very happy to have The Fellowship of the Ring return to New York.”

Tickets are available now – and are selling fast! You can buy them here. We hope to host a post show party – probably on the Tuesday evening after the concert, but maybe we’ll manage both evenings! Stay tuned for more on that! Meanwhile if you want to find out more about these happenings, you can find LOTRConcerts on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook. Hope to see you there!

What is ‘The Song of the Roots of Hithaeglir’ and where does it fit into Tolkien works? Is Amazon’s The Rings Of Power making up new lore?

In this article, TORn Discord Moderator DrNosy examines the introduction of a new Elven Folklore – ‘The Song of the Roots of Hithaeglir’ – in Season One’s fifth episode as a plot device in The Rings Of Power.

########

What is “The Song of the Roots of Hithaeglir”? 

In the words of Elrond himself, ‘The Song of the Roots of Hithaeglir’ is “an obscure legend regarded by most to be apocryphal” [Ed note: emphasis added]. Elrond is underscoring the point that this legend is folklore.

The fantasy works of Tolkien are based in European folklore. Folklore is described as the beliefs, customs, and stories of a community, that might be passed within that community through the generations. Folklore often contains details specific to the beliefs of the community.

Now, this is what makes folklore interesting — their origins are often based in truth. Not literal truths but something akin to parables and fables that hint at a truth. After all, you may have heard it said, “the truth is [more frightening] than fiction”.

For example, in Western folklore, we are familiar with the concept of ‘werewolves’. This lore is entirely fictitious. Yet the lore itself arises from a truth, and has a purpose. That purpose was our ancestors’ way of warning us about metaphorical wolves in our midst, i.e., ‘serial killers’.

Werewolf legends derive from early Nordic folklore. Specifically, The Saga of the Volsungs tells of a tale of a father and son who discover wolf pelts with the power to turn people into wolves. Donning these pelts, the father and son duo embark on a rampage killing many. There is also have a fifteenth-century account of a vicious serial killer in Bedburg, Germany, whose actions were enshrined into local folklore as a man that turned into wolf-like creature at night before his killing spree.

Folklore and fables are essential to human survival. They function as a warning to the listener about the realities of the world without exposure to the brutality of its truths. They are a way to keep us safe.

Nobody goes off-trail and nobody walks alone

Returning to our `apocryphal` origin of mithril, ‘The Song of the Roots of Hithaeglir’ is not based in any Tolkien texts. Within The Rings of Power story, however, it functions as an Elven folklore founded on the nature of mithril and the truth of what else might lie beneath the Misty Mountains.

Note the words of Celeborn, one of the wisest of Tolkien’s Elves, who offers a pertinent reminder to not cheaply discount (their) lore.

‘Then I need say no more,’ said Celeborn. ‘But do not despise the lore that has come down from distant years; for oft it may chance that old wives keep in memory word of things that once were needful for the wise to know.’

Farewell to Lórien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Making mythril 

`True creation requires sacrifice`

An Elven warrior (`with a heart as pure as Manwë`) and a Balrog (`all his hatred`) poured themselves into a tree bearing the light of Silmarils. One seeking to protect it, the other seeking to destroy it. Lighting (likely from Manwë) struck the tree which resulted in the creation of the tree’s roots… veins of mithril into the mountain.

This sacrifice made by both warrior and Balrog resulted in the subcreation of mithril — a thing of unimpeachable goodness yet also of unsurpassed peril.

`The Song of the Roots of Hithaeglir` is a cautionary fable for all the peoples of Middle-earth. While mithril will bring glory to Dwarves, salvation to the Elves, and riches to Men, it will also bring inevitable Doom upon those who seek it.

In this fashion, Gil-galad’s hope in mithril (as of Episode 5) also mirrors an aspect that Tolkien described in a letter to Milton Waldman:

[But] the problem: this frightful evil can and does arise from an apparently good root, the desire to benefit the world and others.

Letter #131, The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien

Thus, even though mithril comes from a good root a frightful evil will arise from it.

About the author:

DrNosy is a scientist (physical science), scholar, and Tolkien enthusiast. Her primary interests lie in review and analysis of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power. She is an active contributor and Moderator on TheOneRing.net Discord where she also hosts live open-forum panel discussions on The Rings of Power, The Silmarillion,  and a variety of Tolkien-related topics. You can reach her on Twitter.

If you have a Tolkien/Middle-earth inspired poem you’d like to share, then send it to poetry@theonering.net. One poem per person may be submitted each month. Please make sure to proofread your work before sending it in. TheOneRing.net is not responsible for poems posting with spelling or grammatical errors.

Welcome to The Great Hall of Poets, our regular feature showcasing the talent of Middle-earth fans. Each month we will feature a small selection of the poems submitted, but we hope you will read all of the poems that we have received here in our Great Hall of Poets.

So come and join us by the hearth, and enjoy!

If you have a Tolkien/Middle-earth inspired poem you’d like to share, then send it to poetry@theonering.net  One poem per person may be submitted each month. Please make sure to proofread your work before sending it in. TheOneRing.net is not responsible for poems posting with spelling or grammatical errors.

Long Roads

by: Tom Frye
The long road lies before you,
a far journey to reach your goal.
Miles of endless traveling,
but take comfort, O weary Soul.

Though you may seem from nowhere,
Where you stand and where you’ve been
It’s slow and steady progress,
not a race that you must win.
All short-cuts with little traveling,
lead nowhere in the end.

So, if the road seems long, now.
And the journey much too tough.
Remember, gems and jewels,
are cut from rougher stuff.

And though it’s quite a struggle,
with Apathy a constant foe.
It’s the journey on the longer roads,
that helps your soul to grow.

So stay steady on your journey,
and surely you’ll succeed,
and claim the golden harvest,
where before were only seeds.

©
Copyright 1999
   Tom Frye

~~ * ~~

“The Prophecy”

by: Caroline Flynn

Forth rode Earnil, last king of Gondor
Upon the Witch-King of Angmar to make war.
There ensued a terrible fight,
In which the Witch-King appeared and showed forth his might.

None could withstand the terror of his onslaught,
But Earnil, undeterred, would have stood and fought
Had not his horse fled, being crazed with fear
When the Witch-King with a horrible cry drew near. 

The Witch-King laughed, at what he saw as fright,
But then his eyes were stung by a blinding light.
Turning his horse, away he sped,
Even as he mocked, into the darkness he fled. 

He who had subjected lands and realms to his rule
And of Sauron’s servants was the most feared and cruel,
Could not withstand one who had beheld the Two Trees
And walked in lands beyond the Sundering Seas.

For Glorfindel had come up from Rivendell;
Bright was his sword, his eyes fey and fell.
He who of old had grappled with Shadow and Flame,
Unveiled his power, and with renewed might he came.

As Earnil rode back, chafing with anger and hate,
Glorfindel, gazing into the dusk, foresaw the Enemy’s fate,
Stretching far into the long years ahead. 
Turning to the captain, he withheld him and said:

“Do not pursue him – far off yet is his doom!
And much more must be accomplished before the gathering of that gloom.
Not by the hand of man will he be slain:
Rather, the unlooked-for will arise and be his bane.”

And so it was, that the prophecy was spoken,
Though many years passed before it was awoken,
During the great battles fought for the One Ring,
And the Nazgul were sent forth, led by the Witch-King. 

Despair and darkness he spread, wherever he went,
And the body of Theoden King apart he rent.
But then with an opponent he stood face to face,
Who was unafraid of the unseen eyes and deadly mace.

“Begone foul lord of carrion!” the clear voice spoke. “Let him lie in peace!”
“Stand not between me and my prey,” came the cold reply, “else you will go to where there is no release.”
There was sharp ring as was drawn a sword. 
“No living man may hinder me!” laughed the lord. 

Thus was spoken the prophecy of long ago,
The selfsame one spoken by his deadly foe.
Doubt entered the Nazgul’s mind as sun gleamed on golden hair,
And he was reminded of Glorfindel the fair.

“No man am I!” a woman’s voice returned,
And in Eowyn of Rohan’s eyes a fearless light burned. 
The fell beast of the Witch-King reared up and rose, 
Its rider furious that anyone should dare him oppose.

But Eowyn leapt aside, and clove off the beast’s head,
And from the ruin rose the dark and deadly Dread.
With a mighty stroke he broke her arm and clove her shield,
And it looked as though he would triumph upon Pelennor Field. 

But in that hour Eowyn stood not alone,
And in the darkness another desperate courage shone. 
From behind a sword pierced the sinews of the Witch-King’s knee,
And with a despairing cry, from his terror the world was set free.

Neither swordsman tall nor warrior strong
Had done this deed so worthy of song.
Only Merry the Hobbit, from the humble Shire
Out of love had helped the maiden in her need so dire. 

And so it was: not by the hand of man did the Witch-King fall
But at the hand of a woman of the Golden Hall
And by a dagger taken from the tomb of a barrow-wight,
Wound with spells for his demise, in that long-ago fight. 

~~ * ~~

If you have a Tolkien/Middle-earth inspired poem you’d like to share, then send it to poetry@theonering.net. One poem per person may be submitted each month. Please make sure to proofread your work before sending it in. TheOneRing.net is not responsible for poems posting with spelling or grammatical errors.