“the most ancient songs of the elves of which echoes are remembered still in the West, tell of the shadow shapes of walked on the hills above Cuiviénen would pass suddenly over the stars, and of the dark Rider, upon his wild horse, that pursued those that wander to take them and devour them”
I’ve been thinking about this quote a lot in general but right now I’m thinking about it in the context of the elves who never left Middle Earth
First, I absolutely love the love they have for these lands, that despite Morgoth’s encroachment upon it, despite the vile structures he raises, and the terror that creeps around them, there are the forests and hills and stars and they are beloved by these elves. There are their communities that have roots in this land and while their songs may speak of the shadows, they speak of love and hope too. I believe that love for these lands played as much of a role in the decision not to go to Valinor as any potential mistrust of the Valar.
While most tales focus on the struggle of the Noldor and their allies against Morgoth, the elves of Middle Earth have suffered under the shadow of Utumno then Angband for centuries longer.
Most of the elves taken by Morgoth at the time Angband was created were presumably Sindar elves (basing this primarily on geography; I also have so many thoughts on how this effects the culture of Angband, I went into it some on my language post but I’ll definitely write more)
The entire war is imbued with this trauma. If one goes with the version of the orcs in The Silmarillion, then the orcs who attack them are the descendants of stolen kin.
The king of the green elves was killed by Morgoth’s soldiers, forcing many of them to flee from their homes in Ossiriand to the eastern parts of Doriath. Though many flourish there, so much of their lives and customs are destroyed when Denethor is killed on Amon Ereb
Even during the period of Morgoth’s confinement by the Valar, these forces were alive in their lands. Utumno has collapsed but there is no liberation like there is at the end of the war of wrath. Any elves imprisoned under its reign either die, are brought to Angband, or escape into a hostile wild
And when black smoke rises from the Thangorodrim, the Avari, Sindar, and Silvan who see it know exactly what it means. They remember the black smoke of Utumno, they remember their kin vanishing in the night.
And they are afraid. Some scatter, some leave over the Ered Luin, some prepare to fight. But the cultural fear exists among them and in that memory there is no knowledge of a true escape or victory.
