2025 Silver Tongue Silmaril Award presentation

Welcome to the presentation for the 2025 Silver Tongue Silmaril Award. To find out who will receive this year’s precious prize as the most glib, the most eloquent, the most well-spoken character in fantasy fiction, please join us as we travel to Middle-earth, to the most famousest of residences where in a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit…

Bilbo wiped his brow with his handkerchief. He surveyed his newly organized writing desk. The clutter was gone and the papers neatly stacked. His quill and ink sat in just the right places and the red book lay open to a blank page.

“Ahhhh…Well, done, Baggins. Things are finally in order so now I can write in peace.” He took out his pocket watch. “Oh, my. Look at that it’s tea time. Well, I suppose it will have to wait a little longer.” You can’t write anything worthwhile until you’ve had a good cup of tea, after all.”

He took one step toward the pantry when a ring of the doorbell stopped him in his tracks.

“Oh, dear. Who could that?—Balin! How could I have forgotten?” Bilbo was really a rather forgetful hobbit, as far as hobbits go.

Just in time for tea

Bilbo ran to the door, and when he opened it, he found not his dwarven friend, Balin, but a rather lean fellow in a fine suit, one of the Big People. But the man did not introduce himself as would be expected if you just called at someone’s house unexpectedly. Instead, they simply stared at each other for a moment.

“Why, hullo, there,” Bilbo said at last. “Might you be lost?”

“It is tea time is it not?” the man said with a rather enigmatic gleam in his eye.

“Yes, well, I suppose it is, but—”

“And this is Bag End, yes?”

“Quite so, but—”

“I was told to arrive at this place at this time and so here I am. I am nothing if not punctual.”

“I’m sure you are.” Bilbo muttered in exasperation, unsure of what to do.

But the man brushed past him and walked right into the dining room, as if he was a long-awaited guest and sat down.

“Excuse me, but I don’t believe I invited you. In fact, I don’t even know your name. There must be some terrible mistake.”

“No mistake. And I’m called Athelas, in case you want to know. Shall I help myself to tea, or would you like to serve?”

“Of all the…Why, this is preposterous. An outrage! You can’t just—”

But before Bilbo could finish, there came another ring at the doorbell.

Bilbo was nothing if not polite, and hospitality demanded that he attend to the door before dealing with this strange man.

Proper Manners

“I’ll just help myself then,” Athelas said as Biblo ran off.

Bilbo’s feet carried him off to the door even if his mind was racing back in the other direction. Help himself! What sort of man walks into someone else’s home uninvited and serves himself tea?

Opening the door, he found himself confronted with two more Big People, this time a handsome young man and a charming-looking young lady on his arm, both dressed in such finery as was rarely ever seen in the Shire.

“Hello, Bilbo, is it?” said the lady with an elegant bow.

“Why, yes, and you are…?”

“You may call me Ella and this is prince Char.” The young man gave Bilbo a firm handshake.

“Pleased to meet you,” Char said.

“I’m sorry. You seem to know me, but I have no idea who you are.”

“Balin sent us. We’re here for the you know what.”

Balin? Balin? Hadn’t he only said that he would be coming for tea? He’d said nothing about inviting friends.

“The ‘you know what’? More like the ‘I don’t know,'” Bilbo muttered. He was, as I said, a rather forgetful hobbit.

At that moment, Athelas appeared seemingly out of thin air and took the two new arrivals by the arm. “Come, tea is served.”

They traipsed right on past Bilbo and into the dining room where three cups of tea now sat on the table, steaming away.

Bilbo closed the door and rocked back on his heels. “Now see here—” he began, but once again, he was interrupted and hence his marvelous lecture on household visits and the proper manners thereof died upon his lips as those very same manners sent him back to the door.

Once upon a song

As Bilbo rushed to the door, he thought he heard snatches of a song beyond, but the music died the moment he opened it. Before him stood a rather scruffy man with a traveling cloak holding a harp. Beside him were three human children, two boys and the youngest, a little girl with a crutch.

“Greetings, I am Armulyn and this is Janner, Tink, and Leeli,” the man said. Though a stranger, at least he had some manners.

“And I suppose you’re here for tea as well?”

“No, but we certainly won’t turn it down. Balin sent us,” Armulyn said.

“Balin sent you? And it wasn’t for tea?”

“No, it was for the—”

But Armulyn’s explanation ended as another girl, this one a bit older than the one with the crutch, came riding down the lane and right up to the foot of the steps leading to Bag End. She was mounted on some odd metal contraption with two large wheels, a tiny seat and some handles. Whatever this contraption was, her hair was all aflutter and she had a satchel slung over her shoulder. It was quite loaded down with many weighty items by the looks of it.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I late?” she said, half out of breath.

A metal horse?

“No, you’re not late, because nothing is happening!”

“You did offer tea,” the older boy said.

“I did nothing of the sort. And just who are you anyway and what are you doing at my house?” Bilbo asked of the older girl as she dismounted her odd two-wheeled invention.

“Oh, I’m Meggie. And I’m here for the ceremony. Balin sent me the invitation. You see, I have it right here.” In the process of pulling it from her satchel she spilled several books out onto the lawn.

Armulyn was quick to help her restore them.

“See.” She held up a paper covered with rather blocky script. Balin’s name was certainly signed at the bottom.

“Ah, more guests.” Athelas once again appeared out of nowhere. “Come, I’ve set out cups of tea for everyone.”

“Now, just one moment!” Bilbo protested, but Athelas spirited the latest arrivals away as though he, and not Bilbo, was the master of Bag End.

The wind closed the door behind him as he did his best to get around the others and regain control of his own home.

“Everything is so quaint and clever inside,” Leeli said.

“Don’t touch anything! And please, will someone tell me what on earth Balin sent you all here for?”

The last guest?

But once again, the doorbell rang and Bilbo was pulled away before he could get an answer.

“Now, if that rascal of a dwarf sends me one more…” Bilbo was mumbling to himself, simmering hotter than the tea.

“Bilbo, old friend! Sorry, I’m late!” Balin stood on the stoop, smoking a thin pipe. He carried an ornate wooden box in his hand with a sealed letter as well “Have you been waiting long?”

“Waiting? Waiting? For what? To have a whole crowd of strangers burst into my house?”

Balin showed himself in and closed the door.

“To present the silmaril, you old toad!” Balin said, laughing. “Or have you—why you clean forgot didn’t you? You’re to present the award to the most eloquent, well-spoken fellow from the Worlds Beyond the western shores. Ah, you do remember now, don’t you?”

“Oh, Balin, you’re right! Confound my memory! How could I be such a muddled old fool!”

About this time everyone was greeting Balin with warm words and a thank you for the invitation. Bilbo, wishing to make up for his forgetfulness, cleared his throat loudly and reclaimed everyone’s attention.

“Esteemed guests and wandering travelers. I do apologize for my awful forgetfulness, but Balin is here and he has the silmaril, which is why you’ve all come to my little home here at Bag End.” Bilbo took the box and the envelope and was about to open it when Balin yanked it back.

And the winner is…

“Wait, we’re missing one of the finalists,” Balin warned. “Where is the one they call Hoid, or Wit, or something to that effect?”

Athelas suppressed a smirk. “I don’t believe he goes in for appearing when summoned overmuch. Has his own agenda from what I gather.”

“Oh, dear. What if he’s the winner? It would be rather awkward if I read off his name and he wasn’t here. Does he not know the value of what’s at stake?” Bilbo said.

“Never fear,” Meggie said, standing up. “I can bring him here whether he wants to or not. I brought everyone else’s books just in case.” With that she produced a very thick tome from her satchel and began to intone words from a volume entitled, Way of Kings.

She had not read a dozen words when there came a ruckus in the hall closet. The door promptly swung open and a tangle of buckets and brooms and brushes and towels came tumbling out, all wrapped around the thick frame of a dark-haired man in a sleek black uniform. The silver sword at his side gave him a martial look.

“Oh, bother. Where amd I and what in the heavens—? Oh, this must be about that invitation I got. Fine, fine, I’ll participate in your little ceremony. But this had better be worth it. I’ve got kingdoms to confuddle—or coddle, depending on how you look at it.” The man extricated himself from the many household goods clinging to his person and took his place at the table.

“Tea?” Athelas offered.

“No thanks. I don’t intend to stay long enough to finish it.”

“All right, then, now that we’re all here…I shall read to you the winner.” Bilbo took the envelope back from Balin and set the box on the table. Breaking the seal, he lifted his voice and pronounced, “And the winner of the Silver Tongue silmaril for this year’s awards is…Armulyn!”

The children’s faces lit up and they all gave a great cheer. Meggie, Ella, and Char joined in the applause, but Athelas merely offered a slow, somehow menacing clap. Hoid stared off and fiddled his thumbs.

Bilbo removed the lid from the box and produced a large, impossibly bright stone glimmering with effulgent, amber light.

“‘Tis more lovely than even the Arkenstone…” Balin muttered, for he had been forbidden from opening the box on his own. The otherworldly beauty of it captured everyone’s attention, even Hoid’s.

Armulyn accepted the great gift with true humility, bending low so Bilbo would drape it about his neck for it hung on an orange ribbon.

“I don’t know what to say, except that it appears my words and my songs have touched people beyond Aerwiar and for that I am glad. I will wear it with honor.”

Balin clapped Bilbo on the back. “Well, old friend, you came through in the end, just like always. But do try to be more attentive next year.”

“I will, Balin, I promise. Now, everyone, since we’re all here and we’re all lovers of the written word, how about a song?”

“What a wonderful idea!” Balin said. “And with that, his low baritone filled the halls of Bag End, just as it had, though absent his fellows, all those years ago.”

Far over the Misty Mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day
To seek our pale enchanted gold

Thank you for coming

I hope you enjoyed our little unexpected party. Did you see this one coming? Or who did you think would win?

A big thank you to everyone who nominated and voted. You are the ones who truly make these awards what they are. Be sure to check silmarilawards.com each day to find out who receives each award. And be sure to check there as well for more details about the Lord of the Rings trivia contest coming up on Friday, September 26th.

Stats

Addendum: For those interested, here is the final tally.

Voting Results

Armulyn – 36%
Athelas – 19%
Ella – 18%
Meggie – 14%
Hoid – 13%