I was reading Evan Palmer’s awesome take on Ainulindalë
, and I felt the urge to revamp this old guy!
"Therefore Morgoth came, climbing slowly from his subterranean throne, and the rumour of his feet was like thunder underground. And he stood before the king like a tower. But Fingolfin gleamed beneath it like a star;for his mail was overlaid with silver, and his blue shield was set with crystals; and he drew his sword Ringil, and it glittered like ice, cold and gray and deadly."
My humble tribute to the ultimate confrontation of Fingolfin against Melkor, The Enemy, Morgoth, Master of the Fates of Arda, as described on The Silmarillion.