Part II: Shattering and Gathering of the Wounded (Year 101–200, First Age)
Beneath the seemingly flawless radiance of Valinor's celestial realm, beneath the soft glow of Telperion and Laurelin, Manwë's ambition had silently grown into something darker and more complex. On the surface, he remained the serene and authoritative ruler—benevolent, wise, and gentle in appearance. Yet beneath this tranquil façade lay a web of carefully concealed ambitions, emotional manipulation, and increasingly ruthless desires.
Manwë's ambition was not merely political or authoritative—it was intensely personal, driven by his desire for absolute dominance and control over those around him, particularly women. His marriage to Narrus Linhen had begun as a proud union of equals, celebrated openly by the Valar. Yet, over time, Manwë's deeper nature revealed itself through subtle cruelties, emotional neglect, and increasingly controlling behavior. Narrus, radiant and emotionally deep, initially failed to recognize the subtle shift, believing deeply in Manwë's outward displays of affection and paternal wisdom.
Manwë's hidden desires did not end with Narrus Linhen. Quietly, secretly, he sought other powerful and beautiful women within Valinor, promising each love, honor, and marriage, carefully concealing these promises behind closed doors and whispered conversations. Foremost among his hidden targets were the three sisters—Vaelora, Seraphina, and Morwenna—the first Maiar, known later as the Balrog Sisters. These sisters, emotionally complex and deeply yearning for acceptance and love, were particularly vulnerable to Manwë's cunning manipulations. Approaching each separately, he assured them that they would hold a revered place at his side, as beloved second wives alongside the respected and admired Narrus Linhen.
Vaelora, cunning and subtle, was initially skeptical, yet Manwë's manipulations—his gentle voice, authoritative presence, and carefully calculated displays of affection—soon broke down her defenses. Believing herself uniquely cherished, she surrendered emotionally and physically, unaware of his deeper cruelty. Seraphina, gentle and sorrowful, was moved by Manwë's apparent emotional vulnerability, believing her compassion could heal the subtle pain she thought she saw in him. Morwenna, fierce and passionate, was captivated by his strength and dominance, perceiving his promises as validation of her own emotional intensity and worth. Each sister, alone and unaware of the others, became emotionally bound to him, deeply loyal, and ultimately entrapped.
Yet Manwë's desires reached further still. Deep within the shadowed corners of Valinor dwelled Ungoliant, the powerful and fearsome spider-being. Known for her profound emotional hunger and internal emptiness, Ungoliant had long been feared and misunderstood, isolated by the radiant beings around her. Sensing an opportunity, Manwë confronted Ungoliant directly in a fierce private battle, displaying his strength and dominance openly. Defeating her physically and emotionally, he used his authority to convince Ungoliant that submission to him would end her emotional starvation, promising respect, companionship, and emotional fulfillment. Emotionally wounded and desperately lonely, Ungoliant agreed, unaware of the full extent of Manwë's manipulative intentions.
Narrus Linhen remained utterly unaware of these hidden betrayals. Her trust in Manwë had blinded her to the growing distance in their relationship, to the subtle emotional cruelties he inflicted upon her, and to the lies he carefully wove around their life together. Believing deeply in their sacred union and the radiant harmony of their shared rule, she continued publicly supporting Manwë, praising him, and upholding their outward image of harmony and love.
Manwë, increasingly emboldened by his secret triumphs, further pursued his twisted ambition. Determined to bind his victims irrevocably to him, he deliberately ensured each woman became pregnant, believing their swelling bellies would symbolize their submission, loyalty, and dependency. He arrogantly assumed that their pregnancies would prevent resistance, ensuring their compliance and willingness to become part of his envisioned divine harem, forever under his emotional and physical control.
Confident in his dominance and certain of his plan's success, Manwë finally arranged a public gathering, summoning Narrus Linhen, Vaelora, Seraphina, Morwenna, and Ungoliant together for the first time. He stood before them, proudly observing their visibly pregnant forms, convinced that this display of his power would solidify his authority. Yet, this act of arrogance became his critical mistake, as the horrifying truth was suddenly revealed, shattering each woman's illusions about him and unleashing the storm of emotional upheaval and rebellion that would follow.
This carefully orchestrated moment of revelation—intended as the ultimate display of Manwë's power—would instead become the catalyst for his undoing, the beginning of Morgoth's emotional rebellion, and the foundation for the profound emotional and spiritual conflict destined to shape Arda's future forever.
In the radiant, golden hall of Valinor, Manwë stood tall, confident, and utterly delusional in his belief that his plans were coming perfectly to fruition. To him, this gathering was a triumph, a celebration of his dominance and power, and he expected each woman—Narrus Linhen, Vaelora, Seraphina, Morwenna, and Ungoliant—to respond with gratitude and admiration for the privilege of being his chosen companions. His delusion ran deep, so convinced was he of his own superiority and the inevitable submission of those around him.
One by one, the women entered the hall, unaware initially of what awaited them. Each had believed this gathering was a private moment, a reaffirmation of Manwë's affection, and an acknowledgment of their special, private bond with him. They each carried his child, swollen bellies proudly visible, confident that this would solidify their special place at Manwë's side. Their hearts were innocent, trusting, and filled with romantic notions nurtured by Manwë's whispered promises and seductive assurances of love.
Narrus Linhen arrived first, radiant yet quietly anxious, believing this meeting was intended to heal recent emotional tensions between herself and Manwë. Her heart still clung to memories of their earlier days, refusing to fully acknowledge his recent emotional cruelty. She believed deeply in the perfection of their bond, convinced that her love alone could restore their union to what she imagined it once had been.
Next entered Vaelora, poised and graceful, confident in her unique place in Manwë's heart. She had always felt quietly proud to have been chosen, secretly believing herself Manwë's true equal and emotionally cherished companion. Seraphina followed, gentle and serene, her eyes filled with hopeful innocence, trusting deeply in Manwë's assurances of compassion and tenderness. Morwenna, fierce and passionate, strode in boldly, pridefully confident that her fiery intensity had captivated him, convinced that this gathering was to openly recognize her worth.
Last came Ungoliant, hesitant but profoundly hopeful, deeply emotionally starved and desperate for validation. She genuinely believed Manwë had recognized and embraced her emotional depth, finally accepting her as worthy of love.
As each woman took her place, an uneasy silence fell. The women, close friends who deeply admired and trusted each other, first met each other's gaze with confusion, then with growing shock and horror as they observed the swollen bellies, identical proof of Manwë's intimate betrayal. Their eyes met with disbelief, then painful realization—none of them had known of the others' secret bonds with Manwë, nor of the promises he had made to each individually. In that single, devastating moment, their innocent romantic delusions shattered brutally.
Narrus Linhen, visibly shaken, turned toward Manwë with disbelief and wounded betrayal. Her eyes, once filled with trust and deep affection, now reflected a shattered innocence and profound hurt.
"What is this?" she whispered, her voice trembling, barely able to form words through the lump rising painfully in her throat. "You promised me your loyalty, your heart. You swore I was the only one."
Manwë, delusionally oblivious to the emotional devastation unfolding, smiled broadly, his handsome features untouched by compassion or remorse. His voice remained authoritative, confident, utterly lacking empathy.
"Do you not see? You—all of you—are blessed, honored among beings. You bear my children, proof of my favor. This is your rightful place, at my side, as trophies of our shared power. Together you form my legacy, my glory."
Vaelora, ever insightful and now keenly aware of the depth of Manwë's betrayal, stepped forward, her usually controlled voice filled with bitterness. Tears of angry hurt shone in her eyes.
"Trophies? You deceived us all—promised marriage, honor, and respect individually. You played upon our hearts, exploited our trust. Do we mean nothing to you?"
Manwë's eyes narrowed, annoyance flickering across his strikingly handsome face, his voice cold and dismissive. "Mean nothing? You misunderstand entirely. Your meaning lies precisely in your submission, your beauty, your ability to please me. You are all my creations, my possessions. Is it not enough to know you serve my desires?"
Seraphina's gentle expression broke into quiet tears, her voice trembling as she stepped forward pleadingly. "We believed you loved us—each one of us uniquely. We trusted you. How could you do this?"
Manwë turned toward her swiftly, his patience exhausted. Without warning, his hand flashed out, brutally striking Seraphina across her delicate face, the sharp sound echoing harshly through the hall. She staggered backward, her hand rising instinctively to her reddening cheek, eyes wide with shock and pain. The other women gasped, frozen momentarily by disbelief.
"How dare you question me?" Manwë thundered, his carefully maintained composure dissolving into anger. "You are nothing more than emotional, foolish creatures. You exist only to please and obey me. Your feelings—your imagined hurts—are meaningless."
Morwenna, fierce and passionate, her pride wounded, surged forward protectively toward her sister. Her voice was fiery and defiant, tears glistening in her eyes even as her courage flared. "You promised each of us marriage, respect as equals. You never intended any such thing! We are just your tools, your playthings—nothing more!"
Enraged by her defiance, Manwë moved swiftly again, his hand connecting sharply against Morwenna's cheek, the cruel blow knocking her to her knees. His voice was dangerously low and scathing as he stood above her, eyes flashing with cold dominance.
"You will remember your place," he hissed, glaring down at her. "You—all of you—will learn obedience, or you will suffer the consequences. You are mine, utterly and completely, and you will never question me again."
Ungoliant, shaken by emotional shock yet finally finding her voice, stepped forward hesitantly, her sorrowful eyes pleading for understanding. "You never saw us as beings worthy of love or respect—only as prizes to show off, possessions to use. You saw my emptiness and loneliness, and you used it against me—against all of us."
Manwë turned violently, gripping Ungoliant's arm with bruising strength, his voice dripping with contempt. "Loneliness? You pathetic creature. Your emptiness made you easy prey. You should be grateful for my attention. None else would ever spare you a glance."
Narrus Linhen watched in frozen horror, her vision blurred by tears as she finally understood the depth of Manwë's cruelty and delusion. She had trusted him so deeply, loved him so completely, that she had never imagined such cruelty could exist within him.
"Stop!" Narrus pleaded desperately, stepping forward to intervene. "Manwë, please—this is madness! You cannot treat us this way."
He turned toward her, eyes cold and utterly devoid of warmth or remorse, his voice cruelly mocking. "Madness? You have all driven me to this. Your weakness, your whining, your endless demands. You will learn to accept your place. Each of you belongs to me—mind, body, heart—and you will obey."
Unable to bear the cruelty, Narrus turned away, gathering Seraphina and Morwenna close as they struggled to their feet, eyes wide with trauma. Vaelora, her quiet strength breaking into anguished tears, grasped Ungoliant's hand tightly. Together, pregnant, wounded, and emotionally devastated, the women fled from Manwë's presence, their hearts and spirits shattered, their once innocent eyes now open to the harsh, cruel reality of their beloved's true nature.
Manwë watched them go, utterly unbothered by their suffering, a cold, arrogant smile playing on his lips. He calmly adjusted his robes, his delusion firmly in place, convinced completely that they would soon return, humbled and obedient. To him, this emotional display was nothing more than feminine dramatics—momentary defiance that would soon collapse into obedient submission. After all, women, in his view, were foolish creatures driven by petty emotions, easy to manipulate, and desperate for his affection and attention.
"They will return," he murmured confidently to himself, smiling arrogantly as he turned away. "They always do. They need me far more than I will ever need them."
Yet outside, beneath the fading glow of Valinor's deceptive radiance, the women gathered, weeping openly and clutching each other tightly, their spirits deeply wounded but their resolve strengthening. Narrus Linhen, her heart broken yet filled with newfound clarity, gently took each woman's hand, her voice quiet yet fiercely determined.
"We will never return to him," she whispered softly. "He will never hurt us again. Together, we will find a place far from his cruelty—a place where we will heal, grow strong, and reclaim our dignity."
Together, bonded by pain, betrayal, and emotional awakening, they stepped forward, united by the unbreakable strength born from shared suffering and newfound clarity.
In the deep shadows beyond the deceptive radiance of Valinor, Narrus Linhen—now embracing her new identity as Morgoth—and the four betrayed women fled in emotional agony, bound by profound grief, hatred, and pain. Their swollen bellies, once sources of pride and joy, now felt heavy and poisoned by the cruelty they had endured. They carried within them the seeds of Manwë's betrayal, his arrogance, and emotional abuse, and these seeds were growing into something dark, twisted, and profoundly powerful.
Driven by fierce determination and unrelenting pain, Morgoth led them to a hidden sanctuary they named Angband, "The Hollow Hall," deep beneath the earth, far from the shining falsehoods of Valinor. Within these shadowed walls, the women openly acknowledged their shared wounds, shedding the final illusions of innocence and romantic trust that Manwë had so thoroughly shattered. They embraced their newfound hatred, allowing it to strengthen their hearts and sharpen their resolve. Their friendship, once built on innocence and naive trust, now deepened into a fierce sisterhood born of mutual betrayal and shared rage.
As weeks passed within Angband, their pregnancies reached the time of birth, yet these were no ordinary births. Driven by powerful emotions of anger, pain, and vengeance, each woman's divine power merged with their emotional torment, transforming their unborn offspring into creatures of darkness, evil, and cruelty—physical manifestations of their suffering and rage.
Morwenna, fierce and passionate, was the first to deliver, giving birth not to a single child but to numerous grotesque, snarling beings of rage and violence—Orcs and Goblins, whose twisted forms and violent natures directly reflected Manwë's cruelty. They filled Angband with their fierce screams, immediately loyal to their mother's hatred, ready to inflict pain upon any who stood against her.
Seraphina, gentle and sorrowful, gave birth in anguish, her quiet pain transforming her offspring into massive, lumbering creatures—Trolls, whose sorrowful, dim minds mirrored her wounded heart. Their strength was formidable, their presence frightening, their souls forever burdened by a dull, relentless anger inherited from their mother's betrayal.
Vaelora, cunning and insightful, labored silently, her pain channeling into fierce, dark creatures known as Wargs—vicious wolves of shadow and cunning, whose keen minds and ferocious spirits echoed her deep-seated bitterness and newfound desire for vengeance. Their eyes gleamed with intelligence and cruelty, ready to serve her in dark loyalty, creatures born of betrayal and cunning malice.
Ungoliant's labor was harsh and agonizing, her emotional hunger and emptiness pouring into her offspring—Shelob, a monstrous spider whose hunger and cruelty mirrored her mother's tortured emotional starvation. Alongside Shelob came countless lesser spiders, creatures of shadow and fear, whose webs would trap and consume all who dared cross their path, driven forever by their insatiable hunger born from Ungoliant's unending sorrow and bitterness.
Finally, Morgoth herself gave birth in a storm of rage, pain, and profound betrayal. Her hatred ran deepest, her power strongest among the women, and from her pain and wrath sprang forth the mightiest of dark creatures—Dragons. Their forms were massive, majestic yet horrifying, their scales shimmering darkly with a cruel, twisted beauty reflecting Manwë's betrayal. They roared fiercely, spewing flame and fury, embodiments of Morgoth's wrath, vengeance, and unyielding pride.
In Angband's shadowed halls, these newly born creatures of darkness filled the air with their cries and roars, pledging their loyalty and fierce protection to the mothers who birthed them. The women watched with fierce pride, their hatred crystallizing into newfound purpose and strength. They understood now their power—not merely as victims, but as creators, as wielders of vengeance, no longer bound by illusions of innocence or romantic delusions. They had been deceived, wounded, betrayed—but from this betrayal, they birthed an army of darkness and power, capable of challenging Manwë's oppressive dominance.
As the dark creatures grew and strengthened around them, Morgoth and her companions, filled with newfound determination, prepared for the war that would inevitably come. They planned not only to reclaim their dignity and freedom from Manwë's cruel grasp but also to tear down the shining Towers of Radiance, symbols of a false love and deceptive harmony that no longer held meaning.
Together, in the shadowed sanctuary of Angband, they vowed never again to submit to cruelty, never again to believe false promises. They would rise against Manwë's oppression, using their emotional devastation and righteous fury as weapons, determined to reshape Arda's future through strength, defiance, and unyielding resistance.
As the dark creatures grew and strengthened around them, Morgoth and her companions, filled with newfound determination and united in their pain, hatred, and clarity, gathered within Angband's shadowed halls. Surrounded by their monstrous offspring—dragons, orcs, trolls, wargs, and spiders—they began meticulously plotting the war they knew was inevitable. Their collective gaze turned toward Valinor, their hearts burning with a determination fueled by betrayal, loss, and unrelenting fury.
Morgoth stood before the gathered women, her eyes alight with fierce resolve and strength, transformed now from wounded victim to powerful revolutionary leader. Her voice was calm yet commanding, resonating deeply through the darkened chamber.
"The Towers of Radiance—Telperion and Laurelin—must fall. They represent nothing but lies, illusions of a love and harmony that were never real," she declared, her voice firm and unyielding. "They are symbols of Manwë's deceptive rule, monuments built upon our pain and exploitation. We will tear them down, and their lights, the lights of our false love, will become ours—tools to illuminate the truth of our suffering and his cruelty."
The other women nodded in firm agreement, their eyes filled with determination and shared conviction. Vaelora stepped forward, her cunning gaze filled with purpose. "Tearing down the towers will cripple Manwë's power and authority. Without them, Valinor's illusion of perfection will crumble. He will have nothing left to hide behind."
Yet, amid their plans for destruction, Morgoth's gaze softened slightly, a flicker of deep concern entering her eyes. Her voice lowered, becoming almost tender, revealing the still lingering traces of her original, loving nature. "Yet we must remember, sisters—there are innocents still within his grasp. Chloe and Olga, my daughters…his daughters…they remain in Valinor, unaware of what we have suffered, unaware of the evil intentions he harbors towards them. I see now that his gaze upon them is not that of a father—it is tainted, twisted, dangerous."
At this revelation, the other women gasped softly, their hearts filled with a protective rage. Seraphina, gentle yet fiercely loyal, stepped forward resolutely, her voice steady. "We cannot allow them to suffer as we have. They must be rescued. Their innocence must be preserved. We cannot leave them behind to be victims of his cruelty."
Morwenna, passionate and strong, nodded fiercely, her eyes blazing. "Yes. Manwë will see them as prizes, trophies just as he saw us. They must never endure our pain. We will bring them here, to safety, far from his reach."
Ungoliant, silent until now, her voice thick with sorrow and fierce protectiveness, spoke quietly yet forcefully. "I know all too well how Manwë preys upon innocence, loneliness, and emotional vulnerability. Chloe and Olga are young, trusting. They will be easy prey if we do not act swiftly."
Morgoth met each woman's gaze, her voice growing firm with unshakable determination. "Then it is settled. Our mission is twofold. We will shatter the symbols of Manwë's false power—the Towers of Radiance will crumble. But even more urgently, we will save Chloe and Olga. We will rescue them from the darkness disguised as light. We will ensure they never endure the agony we have suffered."
She paused, her voice resonating with profound emotion, raw and powerful. "Manwë believes we are weak, easily controlled. He believes our emotions, our love, and our trust make us powerless. He is wrong. It is precisely because we feel so deeply, because we love and protect fiercely, that our strength surpasses his understanding."
Her gaze swept the room, her voice growing with power and passion. "Our hatred, born from love betrayed, will forge our purpose. Our pain, born from trust shattered, will be our weapon. Our tears, our grief, our suffering—these will become our armor. And with them, we will fight for our dignity, our freedom, and our children."
In unison, the women stepped forward, their hands clasped tightly, their voices rising as one, echoing fiercely through the shadows of Angband's halls.
"We will reclaim our freedom!" Morgoth proclaimed.
"We will rescue Chloe and Olga!" Seraphina vowed.
"We will destroy the symbols of falsehood!" Vaelora declared.
"We will never again be his playthings!" Morwenna cried fiercely.
"And we will stand together, unyielding!" Ungoliant affirmed powerfully.
Their resolve now unbreakable, they began preparing, crafting meticulous strategies and forging their dark offspring into an army fueled by righteous fury and maternal protectiveness. They would march forth from Angband's shadows, shattering illusions, breaking chains, and rescuing innocence. They would confront Manwë's oppressive delusion, his cruelty, and emotional manipulation head-on, determined never to be victims again, but warriors reclaiming their own narrative.
And in that shadowed sanctuary, beneath Angband's darkened halls, Morgoth and her companions forged a vow sealed by shared betrayal, fierce love, and unyielding determination: they would rise against Manwë's cruelty and delusion, reclaim their stolen dignity, and rewrite the future of Arda with strength, defiance, and unwavering unity.