[The Silmarillion and The Lord of the Rings Fanfiction] Norsali

Silmarillion fanfiction

I just finished reading The Silmarillion, and I'm completely immersed in the grand world of Middle-earth.

The history of the Noldor is tragic and worthy of respect.

The book describes Fëanor, the Noldorin elven prince who could be called the starting point of everything that followed, like this:

Fëanor surpassed others in both craftsmanship and eloquence, and knew more than his two brothers. His spirit was like a blazing flame. He was very tall and extraordinarily handsome, fond of giving orders, with keen, bright eyes and hair black and shining as a raven's. Whatever goal he pursued, he worked tirelessly and steadfastly until he achieved it. Once he had decided what to do, he rarely listened to the advice of others, and force would not change his mind.

In body and spirit, courage, perseverance, appearance, understanding, skill, strength, and subtlety, Fëanor was the most outstanding of all the Children of Ilúvatar.

Without a doubt, Fëanor was brilliant. He was also extraordinarily proud.

Of course, an elf capable of creating the Silmarils, inventing letters superior to Rúmil's, and making the first jewels completely colorless might have had good reason to be proud.

It was precisely this near-obsessive arrogance that brought disaster upon the Noldor...

For several nights after finishing the book, I couldn't stop imagining this history of the elves, and so I had a bold idea:

In my story, I will use Tolkien's work as a foundation and create a brand-new elf. Through his eyes, I will tell the story of the sons of Fëanor...

This has gotten a little off topic. In short, this is a story about the Noldor and the elves.