Of My Shortcomings

The house of Finwë had never been known for it's welcoming nature. Whilst many were led to believe this was due to the Oath of Fëanor, the fell vow to kill those who laid hands on the Silmarli, the reality was much worse. Finwë himself was a kind and open ellon, and Míriel, his first wife, was as well. It wasn't the Oath that changed everything, it was Míriel's death, and Fëanor's sudden spiral into relative madness, driven by the one they called Melkor, into hiding his greatest creation, and then losing them to that very man.

The poisoning of Melkor outreached his purpose, and became his downfall. For if he had not taken the Silmarili, he would never have been the goal of Beren's ill fated mission, nor would one Silmaril make it's way to the Nauglamir, nor into the hands of Dior, to Elwing, to the Valar and turn the tide. For though much ruin came about with them, they became the single sparkling light of hope, even upon a dark crown. This is a story of Arda without Beren- and subsequently, without hope- and how one Maia manages to cave the cowardly heart of a dark immortal king to her purposes, and perhaps, to victory over the darkness of the land.