There’s a particular letter in The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien where Tolkien writes about his experience of dealing with a proposal from Forrest J. Ackerman to make an animated film of The Lord of the Rings.
Within that letter, there’s one revealing sentence.
Stanley U. &: I have agreed on our policy : Art or Cash. Either very profitable terms indeed ; or absolute author’s veto on objectionable[my emphasis] features or alterations.
Letter #202, The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien.
The deal never happened, though Tolkien did subsequently sell film rights in 1969 to United Artists under the looming pressure of inheritance taxes.
These days, I suspect there’s no such pressure. More, the “Middle-earth universe” is seen as a proven starter for the world’s media companies. I think that has given Tolkien Estate leverage: the power to demand not just Cash, but Art as well.
In the context of the recent Vanity Fair feature, this explains not just the starting price for the Tolkien Estate’s rights auction a “gobsmacking” $200 million, but the documented demand for input into the direction of the series. In an early, seemingly unauthorised, interview, Tom Shippey described this “input” as a “veto power”.
It also says something about the power of Middle-earth that even with that eye-watering starting price and the attachment of certain pre-conditions, Netflix, HBO and Amazon all put their hand up and bid.
Still, even if Tolkien Estate was willing to put its foot down to get that capital-A Art, it was always going to take an equally ambitious (and well-resourced) studio to come through with the goods.
Despite Vanity Fair’s assurances (it’s pretty stunning that they’ve seen the first three episodes already), it’s too early for us ordinary punters to declare The Rings of Power a sure bet — in either the commercial sense, or the Art sense.
However, Vanity Fair’s first look under the bonnet shows there’s no lack of promise: the images are intriguing and suggestive, sets and costumes look suitably spectacular, and the production staff are making the right sort of noises about respecting the integrity of the source material.
But a show with the resources of The Rings of Power should (by default) have stunning production values and a real, lived-in feel. That’s just a given.
And it’s politic for showrunners to make the right noises (I would, too). The question is, can we identify instances of real substance to back those noises? Has the objectionable — as Tolkien might have seen it — been excised?
An Atlantis-like Númenor, the full glory of Khazad-dûm —- that vast dwarven metropolis carved out of the bones of the Misty Mountains, the puissance of the elven smith Celebrimbor, whose skills with metals and magic are crucial to the forging of the rings are all lore-friendly inclusions.
They’re also easy wins.
In a way, so too is the centrality of Galadriel.
Galadriel is a key player in the Second Age (fighting the long defeat, as she expresses in The Lord of the Rings). After the publication of that book, Tolkien increasingly came to view her as one of the most remarkable elves to play a role in Middle-earth’s history, and his later essays and notes paint her as an increasingly exceptional individual. She’s also incredibly peripatetic throughout the Second Age — wandering from Lindon, into Eriador and eventually south to Eregion, under the Misty Mountains to Lórien, back across to Imladris (Rivendell) and finally the south coasts of what would later become Gondor.
During all that, she’s a key participant in events. She joins Gil-galad to reject the approaches of Annatar, alternately collaborating and at loggerheads with Celebrimbor (and later advising him to hide Nenya, Vilya and Narya), before strengthening then-Lórinand (later Lórien). Unfinished Tales states that she views the dwarves of Khazad-dûm “with the eye of a commander”.
That bespeaks a driven individual — and this is something that the teasers from Vanity Fair support. I want to see lots of ambition from Galadriel — someone with just as much inner-belief and determination to make things happen as Fëanor, but with (even at the start of the Second Age) a touch more wisdom. I think you should too.
As showrunner McKay Patrick tells Vanity Fair: “This young hot-headed Galadriel… how did she ever become that elder stateswoman [who we meet in Lórien in The Lord of the Rings]?” The awareness of that difference is present; if the show is able to intelligently show this change, it will have taken a large step toward something that accords with J.R.R. Tolkien’s own musings.
Reassuring also is the gradual emergence of the Second Age threat — one that’s recognised by some, but not by others. After all, up until the forging of the One, Sauron (as Annatar) uses the velvet glove, not the iron fist. Very late writings recently published in The Nature of Middle-earth even suggest that his minions mocked him behind his back for this.
Again, direct statements from the McKay seem to back this: “We didn’t want to do a villain-centric thing. We wanted it [the first season] to be about introducing these worlds and the peoples who dwell in them and the major heroes and characters.”
And what is potentially one of the most contentious decisions — to include Hobbits as “Harfoots” — accords somewhat with both Gandalf’s description of Gollum’s folk (yes, I know those are, more correctly, Stoors): “a clever-handed and quiet-footed little people.”
And a note in the prologue chapter of The Lord of the Rings, “Concerning Hobbits” details that “even in ancient days [Hobbits] were, as a rule, shy of ‘the Big Folk’, as they call us, and now they avoid us with dismay and are becoming hard to find … [and] they possessed from the first the art of disappearing swiftly and silently, when large folk whom they do not wish to meet come blundering by…”
Is this one decision Tolkien Estate has weighed in on? Regardless, much will hinge on the execution of the concept.
Set against the above is the compression of the timeline that the showrunners discuss. First, kudos to the production staff for being clear on this. In fact, it recalls Peter Jackson’s bald statements that his films would include no Scouring of the Shire — a very real cause of fan angst at the time. (I still think that writing decision undersold some of the character development of the four key hobbits, but, weighing in at 201 minutes, PJ’s The Return of the King is already very long.)
I get the fact that it’s probably really difficult for any television series to traverse a 2,500-year history in a way that is not choppy and disjointed, and remains compelling viewing. Being able to see characters such as, say, Isildur and Ar-Pharazôn across a span of 5 seasons allows a great deal more screentime (and thus development and insight) than would be possible in a couple of seasons. A strictly linear structure would introduce them only at near the very conclusion of the entire series.
Still, I would have liked (as many speculated before the Vanity Fair article came out) to have seen Amazon be really daring and attempt to run two split, simultaneous timelines — one leading up to the forging of the One (and Sauron’s defeat by the elves and Númenor’s fleet), and another focused on Akallabêth and, perhaps, the War of the Last Alliance (also culminating in Sauron’s defeat, this time by the elves and the Dúnedain of Arnor and Gondor).
Doubtless, it would be demanding on the audience. But if it worked, it would have been amazing.
It’s worth noting, though, that J.R.R. Tolkien in his appraisal of the Morton Grady Zimmerrnan’s 1958 script made specific reference to his displeasure with time contraction of events.
There he states that:
I fail to see why the time-scheme should be deliberately contracted. It is already rather packed in the original, the main action occurring between Sept. 22 and March 25 of the following year. The many impossibilities and absurdities which further hurrying produces might, I suppose, be unobserved by an uncritical viewer; but I do not see why they should be unnecessarily introduced.
Letter #210, The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien
Does that make this particular contraction objectionable?
In Letter #210, Tolkien points out that he doesn’t want to see “his work treated as it would seem carelessly in general, in places recklessly, and with no evident signs of any appreciation of what it is all about.” He does not want the tone lowered “towards that of a more childish fairy-tale.” Lastly, he does not wish for deliberate alteration of the story, in fact and significance, without any practical or artistic object [my emphasis].”
At least, those are my key takeaways.
Now, one observes that if the time scheme of The Lord of the Rings is packed, the precis account of the Second Age in The Tale of Years is most certainly not.
Tolkien also notes in Letter #210 that he closely observed the passing of seasons in The Lord of the Rings. He suggests that such pictorial representations could be used to non-explicitly indicate the passage of time. Similar effects might be employed for The Rings of Power series. Maybe not the thousands we are familiar with from “The Tale of Years”, but certainly dozens — or even the 100 to 200 that might encompass the lifespan of a Dúnedain of Númenor, or a dwarf of Durin’s line.
How much time is being contracted? Vanity Fair is not precise: the writers say that events are compressed “into a single point in time.” That might mean a span of a generation.
Here is where it would have been fascinating to be a fly on the wall in the discussions between Amazon Studios and Tolkien Estate.
Finally, keep in mind J.R.R. Tolkien’s letter to Milton Waldman outlining his artistic vision:
I would draw some of the great tales in fullness, and leave many only placed in the scheme, and sketched. The cycles should be linked to a majestic whole, and yet leave scope for other minds and hands, wielding paint and music and drama. Absurd.
Letter #131. The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien
Absurd. Yet, here we are.
With this in mind, I think there are promising signs that Tolkien Estate (and indeed, Amazon Studios) is seeking Art, not just Cash. Early shoots with the promise of beautiful spring, you might say.
But there’s still an awfully long way to go.
As Galadriel says in The Lord of the Rings: “hope remains while all the Company is true.” We’ll see in September how true this particular company has been.
About the author: Staffer Demosthenes has been involved with TheOneRing.net since 2001, serving first as an Associate News Editor, then as Chief News Editor during the making of the Hobbit films. Now he focuses on features and analysis.The opinions in this article are his own and do not necessarily represent those of TheOnering.net and other staff.
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I’ve read a lot of responses to, and hot takes on, The Rings of Power in the last 24 hours (you can check some of them out here if you’ve missed our roundup). But, without a doubt, this is the most insightful and useful one so far.
In it, Vanity Fair writer Joanna Robinson puts 10 key questions about Amazon’s Rings of Power production to showrunners J.D. Payne and Patrick McKay, and adds her own lore-based thoughts on their answers.
It’s just a terrific read, chock-full of amazing details.
An excerpt:
In studying the language from the first three episodes Amazon let Vanity Fair screen, we found a mix of cleverly repurposed lines of Tolkien’s dialogue as well as a few snatches of Biblical text. “Both Patrick and I have religious backgrounds,” Payne says. “I spent a lot of time just reading those sacred texts. I was an English major at Yale and loved Shakespeare at the time and still go back and reread the various plays. I’ve also spent a lot of time studying Hebrew poetry and parallelism and inverted parallelism and chiasmus and all these cool rhetorical strategies that poets and prophets from thousands of years ago would use to communicate sacred material. And Tolkien, sometimes, will play in that kind of a sandbox.”
McKay explains that they tailored the dialogue to fit each kind of character. The harfoots speak with an Irish lilt whereas the elves speak in elevated British phrases. “We even came up with hero meters for each different race in Tolkien,” Payne says. “Some of them will speak in iambs. Some of them will speak in dactyls. Some of them will speak in trochees.” That in-depth approach might please Professor Tolkien, whose specialty was philology, a.k.a. the history of language.
One of the best revelations is clear, direct confirmation on the rights situation simply because it immediately clears away so much fan debate:
So what did Amazon buy? “We have the rights solely to The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, The Return of the King, the appendices, and The Hobbit,” Payne says. “And that is it. We do not have the rights to The Silmarillion, Unfinished Tales, The History of Middle-earth, or any of those other books.”
So if you’ve been wondering (as I have), everything in the trees image must be explained by LOTR and The Hobbit alone. And if you can’t find it in those books, don’t expect to see it in The Rings of Power.
BOOTNOTE: Writer Joanna Robinson will be joining TORn Tuesday tomorrow from 5pm PT, 8pm ET to discuss her Rings of Power experience with Staffers Quickbeam and Justin. Join us then, and be sure to bring your own burning questions!
Galadriel, commander of the Northern Armies. Matt Grace/Amazon Studios.
It’s here. If you haven’t seen the Rings of Power teaser already, check it out below! It’s shorter than I’d hope, but raises plenty of questions. And it looks pretty excellent!
A glimpse of Númenor from the Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power Superbowl teaser trailer.
If you were eagle-eyed, you might have noticed that the other day I briefly put up an article postulating that Glorfindel is a convincing option for the Sun Sword poster.
Sun Sword
Unfortunately, shortly after, an eagle-eyed redditor pointed out an additional key piece of evidence I was unaware of. That evidence instantly brought the article’s conclusion into doubt. After a lot of thinking, I’m republishing the article in part, supplemented with some analysis of the current leading theory: Elendil.
You could says this is a somewhat of cautionary tale about the limitations of analysis: you can build the strongest chain of logic, and still be wrong if a premise is incorrect. I also hope it draws some useful conclusions though.
The Glorfindel theory
The real draw is the sun imagery. The sigil on the sword pommel draws the eye, but it’s also (imprecisely) echoed on chest of the individual holding the sword.
And this is what got me thinking.
In the original account of the Fall of Gondolin, Tolkien describes Glorfindel’s folk, the people of The House of the Golden Flower, like so:
There stood the house of the Golden Flower who bare a rayed sun [emphasis mine] upon their shield…
The Book of Lost Tales II: The Fall of Gondolin.
Fact: the device of Glorfindel’s house is a rayed sun.
Tolkien also invested an enormous amount of effort into developing a complex system of elven heraldry and emblems. An account of it can be found in the Hammond and Scull book J.R.R. Tolkien: Artist and Illustrator. I don’t own a copy, but accounts of it can be found on the internet.
One such is here. Wikipedia also has its own summary.
Now, notice that on Sun Sword, the pommel of the sword has 12 rays touching the edge of the design. In elven heraldry, that is indicative of an individual with very high ancestry. Of the examples that Tolkien provides, only Idril Celebrindal has as many rays touching the edge of her emblem’s design; only Finwë the High King of the Noldor has more.
Emblems of the elves of Beleriand from the back cover of the first UK edition of the Silmarillion. Left to right: Fingolfin, Eärendil, Idril Celebrindal, Elwë, Fëanor.
Glorfindel, is of course, not an elven king.
But his ancestry would be considered high — elevated by his noble actions and self-sacrifice in the wreck of Gondolin, his subsequent and early re-embodiment in Valinor and his close association with the Maiar (See The Peoples of Middle-earth: Last Writings).
As Tolkien developed his character down the years, Glorfindel is simply an exceptional individual by the time of his return to Middle-earth in (according to Last Writings) the early or middle of the Second Age.
That exceptional stature might just be enough to gain the honour of an emblem with 12 rays.
Set against that, note that the design is circular. A circular design is typically used for elven ladies (Idril, Lúthien, Melian). Those for elven males are all lozenge-shaped. The picture above shows some examples.
There’s a little more, too.
If we examine the sleeves of the Sun Sword individual, we see they are green, patterned with gold.
At the sack of Gondolin, Glorfindel marched into battle wearing:
…Glorfindel bare a mantel so broidered in threads of gold that it was diapered with celandine as a field in spring; and his arms were damascened with cunning gold.
The Book of Lost Tales II: The Fall of Gondolin.
Celandine is a plant with a golden flower — very likely the golden flower that Glorfindel’s house is named for — and deep, green leaves. Wikipedia lists three species and visually, they all look very striking. One species, pictured below, is regarded by many in the UK as a harbinger of Spring.
According to a costumer friend, the sleeves could be argued to be “damascened” in this way.
In summary, there are sufficient superficial visual cues that you can make a solid case for this theory based on descriptions of Glorfindel and his house symbols that are given in The Fall of Gondolin, and some clever application of elven heraldry.
However!
As I discovered (after posting my article) the individual in the Blue Robe poster bears the exact same device as we see on Sun Sword. This is a theory killer — in the Second Age Glorfindel’s house symbol should be unique to him. No-one else would have it. No-one.
Blue robe brooch compared against Sun Sword pommel. The design is the same.
Long story short, I think it’s just super-unlikely. Sorry, Glorfindel supporters!
The Elendil theory
Right now, the (widely accepted) rumour is that Blue Robe is Ar-Pharazôn the Golden — the 25th (and last) of the kings and queens of Númenor. I’m going to accept this as a working assumption.
But what of the evidence for Elendil?
First, we may note that the armoured sleeves (vambraces?) bear a stamp that resembles a fish (you can see what appear to be fins if you look closely). Additionally, there is a wave pattern on the chest at the middle of the sun emblem.
Now, in the text of AKALLABÊTH, The Silmarillion describes Elendil (and his father Amandil) as great ship-captains.
That’s suggestive. It’s also about as far as we can get from pure visual analysis.
But, turning to the lore, we know that Amandil and Ar-Pharazôn were once quite close. Ar-Pharazôn was also very active at sea before he took the Sceptre of Númenor.
In the days of their youth together Amandil had been dear to Pharazôn, and though he was of the Elf-friends he remained in his council until the coming of Sauron. Now he was dismissed, for Sauron hated him above all others in Númenor.
AKALLABÊTH, The Silmarillion
The Unfinished Tales states that most of the Númenorean chieftains posses what is described as heirloom swords. Yet “at times they would still give a sword as a gift to their heirs”. Additionally:
A new sword was made for the King’s Heir to be given to him on the day on which this title was conferred.
Unfinished Tales, Description of the Island of Númenor
Finally, a note in Unfinished Tales states that the King’s sword is actually Aranruth — the personal sword of Thingol, the Sindarin king of Doriath. Handed down through Dior, Earendil, Elros, it’s an important link to the elven heritage of the Númenorean kings.
Assembling these facts, it’s possible to postulate the following: when Tar-Palantir dies and Ar-Pharazôn becomes king, he takes up Aranruth. But then he has this other sword leftover — the sword he received as King’s Heir.
At this point, he and Amandil are still friends. Because Sauron doesn’t enter the scene until years later. So he gives his King’s Heir sword to Amandil as a gift. I expect that Amandil would treasure this — and all the more so as they grow increasingly distant as politics force them apart.
I was stumped here for a bit: why would Amandil then hand that sword to Elendil?
Here’s my thought: As Ar-Pharazôn’s reign progresses, life becomes ever-more-dangerous for the Faithful. Elendil must be known as one of the Faithful. That makes him a target for the King’s Men faction. If Elendil were going to sea — maybe as a member of the Venturer’s Guild — he could find himself isolated among a group hostile to his views.
Thus Amandil gives Elendil the King’s Heir sword as protection — an indirect sign of the King’s favour.
However, current scuttlebutt insists that the Sun Sword is Narsil (I can’t speak to the truth or falsity of that rumour — it’s not my wheelhouse). If that’s the case, the above scenario doesn’t work for two reasons:
A personality as avaricious as Ar-Pharazôn would surely not give away a sword with a history stretching back into the mists of the First Age. Ar-Pharazôn is the greediest of all Númenor’s rulers.
UT states that the King’s Heir sword is a brand-new sword that is forged for each heir.
The first is highly suggestive, and the second is conclusive.
Still, I love the pathos of this concept.
Examining the sword
But, what if the sword is Narsil? If that’s the case, why does Blue Robe’s device match that of the sword? Should it still not be unique to Narsil alone?
Let’s examine.
We know that Telchar, a dwarf of Nogrod, forged Narsil sometime in the First Age. But we don’t know precisely when, and we don’t know for whom. All we know is that, eventually, it makes its way to the hands of Elendil.
One easy supposition, I think, is that this was an heirloom sword of the Lord of Andunie. As I pointed out, Unfinished Tales states that many Númenorean chieftains posses heirloom swords.
Now, it’s not impossible that Telchar may have made Narsil for someone of very high ancestry — perhaps even an elf, originally. This would explain away the heraldry issue — that there are so many rays striking the edge of the pommel design. Telchar simply made Narsil for someone of superlative rank.
Who? I’m not sure and this is a weak link. Thingol and, subsequently, Dior already have Aranruth. Gondolin is off the table. One of the sons of Feanor, perhaps? Both Maglor and Maedhros survive until the end of the Quenta. Maglor is kidnap-dad — I mean, foster-father — to Elrond and Elros after the Third Kinslaying.
Could Narsil have been made for Maglor? Could Maglor have gifted Narsil to Elros? Not impossible, I think.
It then descends through the royal house of Númenor, but when Silmarien doesn’t get the throne, she gets Narsil (in addition to the Ring of Barahir). But the royal house retains the sun heraldry — as in Blue Robe’s brooch — because it’s also part of their heritage.
This seems … a plausible chain of logic.
The other thing in favour of the Narsil argument is that there is a hollow disc cut in the pommel. This hollow pommel evokes (though it is not the same as) the hollow pommel of the Peter Jackson rendition of Narsil (and Anduril).
But, there are some arguments against Narsil.
It does have an oddly ceremonial look; the design seems quite gaudy with the gold sheen and the heavy carvings on the upper end of the blade. One of my fellow analysts pointed out that if the inlays and carvings extend much further toward the tip, they would compromise its usefulness in battle.
Additionally, we see only sun symbology on the sword and it does not shine like described in The Silmarillion.
The host of Gil-galad and Elendil had the victory, for the might of the Elves was still great in those days, and the Númenóreans were strong and tall, and terrible in their wrath. Against Aeglos the spear of Gil-galad none could stand; and the sword of Elendil filled Orcs and Men with fear, for it shone with the light of the sun and of the moon, and it was named Narsil.
The Silmarillion, Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age
“Shine” could mean solely in the presence of orcs, but isn’t that a trait restricted to blades made by the Noldor of Gondolin?
Finally, we see a lot of sun symbology on Sun Sword. But nothing of the moon. Narsil is a Quenya name meaning “red and white flame”. Tolkien explains in a letter that it “symbolised the chief heavenly lights, as enemies of darkness, Sun (Anar) and Moon (in Q) Isil.”
The question is, what’s on the reverse side? It could be an equivalent moon symbology. If so, I believe that would be sufficient confirmation that this sword is Narsil.
Conclusions
So, what are we left with after all this?
The Glorfindel argument is difficult to sustain. Elendil is plausible, as is Narsil but there are other lore-friendly explanations for the sword at least. In the absence of further evidence, we have to rely on the veracity of the rumour-mongers, or withhold final judgement.
Bootnote: Glorfindel is, of course, a named character in The Lord of the Rings. The rights situation is … well, it’s murky until someone actually goes on the record. But it’s typically believed that Amazon Studios can use the bits it needs from the Second Age in Unfinished Tales, and The Silmarillion (most likely the Akallabeth account and Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age). Anything else they need to go to Tolkien Estate and justify the need. It seems Tolkien Estate is willing to listen if the reason is good. If they wanted to give Glorfindel verisimilitude, this might just fit the bill.
Acknowledgements: I got a lot of assistance from keen-eyed and incisive folks on our new Discord in pulling this together. So in no particular order (and apologies to anyone else who contributed that I’ve missed), many thanks to DurinDeathless, LadyNico, Lasswen, Sid, Nathan, and Sir Skrilldor.
Yesterday Amazon Studios premiered their trailer for the Wheel of Time series that’s based on the fantasy novels of the late Robert Jordan (and Brandon Sanderson). You can see it here if you haven’t already.
One notes that the series itself is slated to debut on November 19, 2021 — that’s roughly 10 weeks away.
That got me thinking, and I did a tiny bit of digging.
Turns out that Good Omens — also produced by Amazon Studios — had a roughly 10-week lead time from trailer to series debut. The first full trailer for Good Omens debuted on March 6, 2019. The series debuted on Prime on May 31, 2019.
Given LOTR on Prime will debut on September 2, 2022, might we then expect a trailer no later than mid-June next year?
However, two data points is a slim thing to build a prediction upon, and I’m just wild-guessing here. (Emphasis and disclaimer: this is speculation based upon publicly available information, not a rumour).
But Amazon loves an algorithm and I feel this coincidence is waggling its eyebrows at me suggestively.
Maybe mark your calendar in pencil, but don’t bet the house.
Here’s a question. If you’re LOTR on Prime, and if your main series material is centered on the Second Age, why tease/lead with an image that show something from a vastly earlier period in the history of Tolkien’s world?
I’ve been pondering this a lot.
Unless LOTR on Prime has gone collectively mad, then there has to be a purpose — some link between that panorama, and the Second Age story that we know is coming.
So, let’s analyse that.
The location itself may offer a link.
Why? Because Númenor — much, much later — tries to invade Valinor. Problem is, that period of Númenor’s history has little to do with the dwarf-elf interactions we seem to be promised if spy reports are correct. So, it’s probably not Valinor itself that’s important, nor the Two Trees in themselves (sorry TREES! fans, I empathise).
That leaves the events that happen in Valinor, and the key protagonists in those events.
Events are — by and large — resolved by The War of Wrath. However, some of those protagonists remain and become involved in the new dramas of the Second Age in Middle-earth (and Númenor).
And I feel this could offer a clue to what’s going on.
Of the chief actors through the events of the Second Age, I can think of four (five, technically) who are also players in during the final Years of the Trees.
Sauron
The first is Sauron. But the link between Sauron and Valinor/The Two Trees is tenuous to non-existent. According to The Silmarillion, he rebelled much earlier and then spent much of Melkor’s imprisonment lurking in and around Angband. He doesn’t really feature strongly in First Age events until Beren and Lúthien’s quest.
Neither the trees — nor any of the events that occur around them — are useful to solidify the background of Sauron for the audience. If you wanted to use Sauron as a link, you’d need to begin somewhere else. For this reason I eliminate Sauron.
Galadriel and Celeborn
The next two come as a pair: Galadriel and Celeborn.
Here, it’s a twofold opportunity.
One, it’s a way to establish Galadriel’s prominence among the Noldor, and the strength of her ambition. Recall Galadriel’s role in the rebellion of the Noldor and their exile. Fëanor is instigator, but in the Silmarillion version she is also involved:
Galadriel, the only woman of the Noldor to stand that day tall and valiant among the contending princes, was eager to be gone. No oaths she swore, but the words of Fëanor concerning Middle-earth had kindled in her heart, for she yearned to see the wide unguarded lands and to rule there a realm at her own will.
Of the Flight of the Noldor, The Silmarillion.
My thinking is that portraying some of Galadriel’s early life in Valinor could be used as a way to support her desire and capacity to (at least to according one tradition outlined in Unfinished Tales) establish Eregion much later in the Second Age with the assistance of Celeborn.
It would also serve to underpin — whether through continued pride, or Ban (or both) — why she did not return to Valinor for so long. There’s vast amounts of drama to be wrung here should LOTR on Prime do it right. A sort of “How I became a massive troublemaker and learnt to love the Ban” sort of thing.
Galadriel is also LOTR on Prime’s most natural and relatable link to Peter Jackson’s movies: well-liked and well-remembered even among those who aren’t Lord of the Rings aficionados.
Celebrimbor
Next is Celebrimbor. To my surprise (for I wasn’t aware of it until very recently), Tolkien outlined that Celebrimbor was born in Valinor during the Years of the Trees, not in Beleriand during the First Age. That he subsequently followed his father, Curufin, into exile, while his mother remained behind, suggests to me that he was well into adulthood by the time of the Noldor’s rebellion against the Valar.
His identity as the grandson of Fëanor makes him a close witness to events in Valinor while his (presumably) growing talents as a smith and craftsmen can be contrasted against the immense skill of Fëanor (and Galadriel). In particular, Fëanor’s achievements with the Silmarils could be used as a dramatic spur for his own creations.
For Celebrimbor, Eregion is not so much a place to rule but a place where he can be free to create with the ultimate aim of someday surpassing the works of his grandfather. Celebrimbor is also a more natural tie for recent spy reports of dwarves and elves meeting. Unless it’s a very frosty meeting, that’s not very likely to be one involving Galadriel and Celeborn (even if Galadriel is not entirely unreceptive to dwarves).
Glorfindel
Glorfindel is the final option. Also an exile, also born in the Years of the Trees. Coincidentally, also blonde. As The Fellowship of the Ring describes it, “his hair was of shining gold”.
Moreover, Glorfindel returns to Middle-earth sometime during the Second Age to play a role in helping keep Sauron at bay after he forges the One Ring. Tolkien writes that this was probably sometime between SA1200 and SA1600 though, and I wonder whether even the first full season would get that far.
Any other elf is a poor fit.
Cirdan did not make the journey to Valinor. Gil-galad is too young — born near the end of the First Age in Beleriand. Elrond is in the same boat. And the rest of the chief Noldorin exiles either died in the long wars against Melkor, or returned to Valinor at the conclusion of the War of Wrath.
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