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#I want to work on Maglor especially
unavidas · 8 months
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exploring the sons of Feanor designs
From top left to bottom right: Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Curufin, Caranthir, Amrod, & Amras.
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polutrope · 8 months
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The Third Kinslaying
A Silmarillion question that never ceases to trouble me, and for which I am not sure I will ever come up with an answer that satisfies me: What were Maedhros and Maglor’s justifications for taking Elrond and Elros after the sack of Sirion? 
I know many people are satisfied with emotion-based reasoning, but that alone just doesn’t work for me personally. I read Maedhros and Maglor at this point in the narrative as very tormented, yes, but still capable of weighing logic and emotion at the same time. I also don't think the tone of the text supports outright villainy and ruthlessness (though that's a valid hc, especially from a non-Feanorian pov).
I’m not going to dive into my interpretation (I’m writing a fic for that), but I wanted to share the evidence and highlight what I think is the (Doylist) explanation for why the question is such a tough one to crack: None of Tolkien’s drafts covering this event* took the character of Gil-galad (or Círdan, though he was a character and not ret con'd like G-g) into consideration. He was simply not a factor in any of the versions published in HoMe. 
If you’re like me and love the ‘textual archaeology’ of figuring out how the published text was derived (and since I bothered to type them all up) here are all the drafts of the third kinslaying alongside the published Silm. (There's good stuff in here for enjoyers of Elwing, Maedhros, and Maglor, too -- and haters of Amrod and Amras lol.)
*unless there are unpublished notes or notes that have evaded me somewhere
Book of Lost Tales (late 1910s/early 1920s)
In BoLT, the Havens are sacked by Melko. 
Sketch of the Mythology (1926-30)
The sons of Fëanor learning of the dwelling of Elwing and the Nauglafring [=Nauglamir] had come down on the people of Gondolin. In a battle all the sons of Fëanor save Maidros [footnote: > Maidros and Maglor] were slain, but the last folk of Gondolin destroyed or forced to go away and join the people of Maidros [footnote: Written in the margin: Maglor sat and sang by the sea in repentance]. Elwing cast the Nauglafring into the sea and leapt after it [footnote: My father first wrote Elwing cast herself into the sea with the Nauglafring, but changed it to Elwing cast the Nauglafring into the sea and leapt after it in the act of writing], but was changed into a white sea-bird by Ylmir [=Ulmo], and flew to seek Eärendel, seeking about the shores of the world. Their son (Elrond) who is half-mortal and half-elfin [footnote: This sentence was changed to read: Their son (Elrond) who is part mortal and part elfin and part of the race of the Valar], a child, was saved however by Maidros.”
The Quenta Noldorinwa (1930)
I
The dwelling of Elwing at Sirion’s mouth, where still she possessed the Nauglafring and the glorious SIlmaril, became known to the sons of Fëanor; and they gathered together from their wandering hunting-paths. But the folk of Sirion would not yield that jewel which Beren had won and Lúthien had worn, and for which fair Dior had been slain. And so befell the last and cruellest slaying of Elf by Elf, the third woe achieved by the accursed oath; for the sons of Fëanor came down upon the exiles of Gondolin and the remnant of Doriath, and though some of their folk stood aside and some few rebelled and were slain upon the other part aiding Elwing against their own lords, yet they won the day. Damrod [=Amrod] was slain and Díriel [=Amras], and Maidros and Maglor alone now remained of the Seven; but the last of the folk of Gondolin were destroyed or forced to depart and join them to the people of Maidros. And yet the sons of Fëanor gained not the Silmaril; for Elwing cast the Nauglafring into the sea, whence it shall not return until the End; and she leapt herself into the waves, and took the form of a white sea-bird, and flew away lamenting and seeking for Eärendel about all the shores of the world. But Maidros took pity upon her child Elrond, and took him with him, and harboured and nurtured him, for his heart was sick and weary with the burden of the dreadful oath.”
II
Upon the havens of Sirion new woe had fallen. The dwelling of Elwing there, where still she possessed the Nauglafring [footnote: > Nauglamir at both occurrences] and the glorious SIlmaril, became known to the remaining sons of Fëanor, Maidros and Maglor and Damrod and Díriel; and the gathered from their wandering hunting-paths, and messages of friendship and yet stern demand they sent unto Sirion. But Elwing and the folk of Sirion would not yield that jewel which Beren had won and Lúthien had worn, and for which Dior the Fair was slain; and least of all while Eärendel their lord was in the sea, for them seemed that in that jewel lay the gift of bliss and healing that had come upon their houses and their ships. And so came in the end to pass the last and cruellest of the slayings of Elf by Elf; and that was the third of the great wrongs achieved by the accursed oath. For the sons of Fëanor came down upon the exiles of Gondolin and the remnant of Doriath and destroyed them. Though some of their folk stood aside, and some few rebelled and were slain upon the other part aiding Elwing against their own lords (for such was the sorrow and confusion in the hearts of Elfinesse in those days), yet Maidros and Maglor won the day. Alone they now remained of the sons of Fëanor, for in that battle Damrod and Díriel were slain; but the folk of Sirion perished of fled away, or departed of need to join the people of Maidros, who claimed now the lordship of all the Elves of the Outer Lands. And yet Maidros gained not the Silmaril, for Elwing seeing that all was lost and her child Elrond [footnote: > her children Elros and Elrond] taken captive, eluded the host of Maidros, and with the Nauglafring upon her breast she cast herself into the sea, and perished as folk thought. [...] But great was the sorrow of Eärendel and Elwing for the ruin of the havens of Sirion, and the captivity of their sons, for whom they feared death, and yet it was not so. For Maidros took pity upon Elrond, and he cherished him, and love grew after between them, as little might be thought; but Maidros’ heart was sick and weary [footnote: This passage was rewritten thus: But great was the sorrow of Eärendel and Elwing for the ruin of the havens of Sirion, and the captivity of their sons; and they feared that they would be slain. But it was not so. For Maglor took pity upon Elros and Elrond, and he cherished them, and love grew after between them, as little might be thought; but Maglor’s heart was sick and weary &c.] with the burden of the dreadful oath.
Earliest Annals of Beleriand (AB 1) (1930-37, prior to AB 2)
AB I
225 Torment of Maidros and his brothers because of their oath. Damrod and Díriel resolve to win the Silmaril if Eärendel will not yield it up. [...] The folk of Sirion refused to give up the Silmaril in Eärendel’s absence, and they thought their joy and prosperity came of it. 229 Here Damrod and Díriel ravaged Sirion, and were slain. Maidros and Maglor gave reluctant aid. Sirion’s folk were slain or taken into the company of Maidros. Elrond was taken to nurture by Maglor. Elwing cast herself into the sea, but by Ulmo’s aid in the shape of a bird flew to Eärendel and found him returning.
AB II does not go this far.
The Later Annals of Beleriand (AB 2) (1930-37, after AB 1)
325 [525] Torment fell upon Maidros and his brethren, because of their unfulfilled oath. Damrod and Díriel resolved to win the Silmaril, if Eärendel would not give it up willingly. [...] The folk of Sirion refused to surrender the Silmaril, both because Eärendel was not there, and because they thought their bliss and prosperity came from the possession of the gem. 329 [529] Here Damrod and Díriel ravaged Sirion, and were slain. Maidros and Maglor were there, but they were sick at heart. This was the third kinslaying. The folk of Sirion were taken into the people of Maidros, such as yet remained; and Elrond was taken to nurture by Maglor. But Elwing cast herself with the Silmaril into the sea, and Ulmo bore her up, and in the shape of a bird she flew seeking Eärendel, and found him returning. 
Quenta Silmarillion (1937) and The Later Quenta Silmarillion (1950s). These drafts were left incomplete and do not cover the events of the third kinslaying.
The Tale of Years (1950s)
Texts A, B
529 Third and Last Kin-slaying
Text C
532 [> 534 > 538] The Third and Last Kinslaying. The Havens of Sirion destroyed and Elros and Elrond sons of Eärendel taken captive, but are fostered with care by Maidros. 
Text D2 (ends at 527)
512 Sons of Fëanor learn of the uprising of the New Havens, and that the Silmaril is there, but Maidros forswears his oath.  [...] 527 Torment fell upon Maidros and his brethren (Maglor, Damrod and Díriel) because of their unfulfilled oath. 
Letter 211 (1958)
Elrond, Elros. *rondō was a prim[itive] Elvish word for 'cavern'. Cf. Nargothrond (fortified cavern by the R. Narog), Aglarond, etc. *rossē meant 'dew, spray (of fall or fountain)'. Elrond and Elros, children of Eärendil (sea-lover) and Elwing (Elf-foam), were so called, because they were carried off by the sons of Fëanor, in the last act of the feud between the high-elven houses of the Noldorin princes concerning the Silmarils; the Silmaril rescued from Morgoth by Beren and Lúthien, and given to King Thingol Lúthien's father, had descended to Elwing dtr. of Dior, son of Lúthien. The infants were not slain, but left like 'babes in the wood', in a cave with a fall of water over the entrance. There they were found: Elrond within the cave, and Elros dabbling in the water. 
The Silmarillion
Now when first the tidings came to Maedhros that Elwing yet lived, and dwelt in possession of the Silmaril by the mouths of Sirion, he repenting of the deeds in Doriath withheld his hand. But in time the knowledge of their oath unfulfilled returned to torment him and his brothers, and gathering from their wandering hunting-paths they sent messages to the Havens of friendship and yet of stern demand. Then Elwing and the people of Sirion would not yield the jewel which Beren had won and Luthien had worn, and for which Dior the fair was slain; and least of all while Earendil their lord was on the sea, for it seemed to them that in the Silmaril lay the healing and the blessing that had come upon their houses and their ships. And so there came to pass the last and cruellest of the slayings of Elf by Elf; and that was the third of the great wrongs achieved by the accursed oath.  For the sons of Feanor that yet lived came down suddenly upon the exiles of Gondolin and the remnant of Doriath, and destroyed them. In that battle some of their people stood aside, and some few rebelled and were slain upon the other part aiding Elwing against their own lords (for such was the sorrow and confusion in the hearts of the Eldar in those days); but Maedhros and Maglor won the day, though they alone remained thereafter of the sons of Feanor, for both Amrod and Amras were slain. Too late the ships of Cirdan and Gil-galad the High King came hasting to the aid of the Elves of Sirion; and Elwing was gone, and her sons. Then such few of that people as did not perish in the assault joined themselves to Gil-galad, and went with him to Balar; and they told that Elros and Elrond were taken captive, but Elwing with the Silmaril upon her breast had cast herself into the sea.  Thus Maedhros and Maglor gained not the jewel; but it was not lost. For Ulmo bore up Elwing out of the waves, and he gave her the likeness of a great white bird, and upon her breast there shone as a star the Silmaril, as she flew over the water to seek Earendil her beloved. [...] Great was the sorrow of Earendil and Elwing for the ruin of the havens of Sirion, and the captivity of their sons, and they feared that they would be slain; but it was not so. For Maglor took pity upon Elros and Elrond, and he cherished them, and love grew after between them, as little might be thought; but Maglor’s heart was sick and weary with the burden of the dreadful oath. 
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meadowlarkx · 28 days
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Some March fic recs!
For Tolkien Fanfic Reading Month! Limiting myself to stories I read in March (but posted anytime). (header by Anna Zakharova on Unsplash)
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picnic by @swanmaids - A bored and reckless Aredhel goes to Vána's orchards seeking adventure and has an experience. This lush and sexy fic feels like a warm summer afternoon. I love how seductive and eerie Vána is here!
Kiss and Marry by @thecoolblackwaves - Have you ever looked at Celegorm and Curufin and thought, "They should be the stars of a romcom"? No? This fic is here to reveal that wonder to you.
弄假成真 by Divano_Messiah - Maglor has been telling people at school that he has a boyfriend. Maedhros is jealous until he learns who it is. (I admit I read this via google translate, you can too...)
Envy by @polutrope - In Tirion, Maglor and Elemmírë struggle to handle each other's reputations with equanimity. The people around them try to respond. This fic is so funny and sweet--I love this take on Elemmírë and Fëanor's guest appearance is hilariously him.
Youthful Regrets by kitkatkaylie - Turgon and Maglor fall in love in Valinor before Turgon's engagement to Elenwë. I really like the personality contrasts of this ship, with Turgon opening up to Maglor, and how this story sketches out their relationship through the whole arc of Silm to its bitter separation.
I risk my life to make my name by @maironsbigboobs - The brave knight Galadriel goes on a journey to meet the Green Woman Melian and her fate, ft. adventures along the way. I love how Tolkien is blended with Arthurian conventions here--it works so well and brings out the myth vibes of Silm that I love so much!
Strange Currencies chapter 12 by @jouissants - This is such a beautifully-crafted tale in every regard, but I want to especially mention this flashback chapter I read in March, covering Maedhros' and Maglor's voyage on the swan ships up to just before Fëanor's death. The horror of the Fëanorian Noldor arriving in the dark with their distrust, inflated ego, and total lack of knowledge of Middle-earth comes through here so, so vividly--this part can be read by itself, go check it out!!
Oubliette by Stramonium - Horrifying and so vividly written scene of Maedhros in Angband, isolation, and monstrosity. Poetic and awful, I can't do it justice in summarizing it.
arrangement for flute and harp by @jouissants - Maedhros is determined to work late, so Maglor and Fingon decide to entertain each other. The Himring atmosphere and incredible character dynamics make this also really sexy smut such a wonderful story.
whatever you would crave by @eight-pointed-star - Sooo sexy ficlet in which Fingon and Maedhros attend to Maglor's Needs. Short but immensely powerful.
scherzo for ink and parchment by @dovewifes - Charming and comedic missives exchanged between Maedhros and Maglor during the Long Peace, ft. romantic endearments and the invention of emojis. Maedhros' so-apparent love for Maglor is something I especially cherish about this fun fic.
Star-kissed by @aipilosse - Celeborn of Doriath rescues recently-of-Gondolin (and silver-haired!) Celebrimbor from a predicament in Nan Dungortheb. Incredibly clever, funny, and hot!
Purification by @zealouswerewolfcollector - Thingol is curious about Maedhros: throne sex ensues. A favorite ship of mine in a flavor I'd never considered. Incredibly intense and super well-written.
Comfort from a Heavy Hand by @undercat-overdog - After the Bragollach, Mablung tends to an injured Beleg, and they seek comfort together. The wreckage and destruction of the battle feels so vivid in this one, and the dynamic of Beleg/Mablung as past teacher and student (and current battle companions) is wonderful.
Thou knowest to-night, and wilt know to-morrow by @welcomingdisaster - A brilliant installment in an ongoing Children of Húrin AU series that has the most beautiful, unsettling, and dreamlike atmosphere. In this fic Maedhros teaches "Cáno" about pleasure in preparation for their marriage bed. Catnip to me personally!!
Proxy by @aipilosse - Celebrimbor comes to reproach Celegorm in Nargothrond after Finrod's departure. They fuck. Gender, tension, messy and complicated emotional dynamics all around. The dirty talk is so so good.
Star of the Nevrast Shore by joanofarcstan - Silmarillion filk of one of my favorite folk songs! What more is there to say!! A sweet tale of Gondolin told from Voronwë's point of view, recounting the love between him, Tuor (the star of the Nevrast shore), Idril, and Maeglin.
A Light Burns in the Forest by fictional_hr_department - Thranduil and Oropher escape Menegroth with child Elwing. The title and art by @lycheesodas give me chills and the atmosphere of the fic as they make their disorienting journey to Sirion really brings to life the terrible aftermath of the second kinslaying.
By Your Side by HiyoriTomioka - fem!Eärendil and Elwing support each other in this ficlet... such a good vision of this ship, and the way Eärendil thinks about Tuor and Idril here with longing uncertainty makes me think of a trans!Eärendil even though that is not explicit.
Something Sleepless in Mirkwood by @imakemywings - Thranduil sickens as the Greenwood does. Elrond tries to heal him, but can't understand at first what's happening. Brilliant and canon-compliant (To Me) wry, proud, and eerie woodland king Thranduil--go give this a read!
A boat, my boat, out upon the River by Tethys_resort - Sméagol is trying to craft his own boat to take fishing. His family keeps getting in the way. This sweet fic paints such an idyllic picture of proto-Hobbit life and made me really feel the tragedy of Gollum.
The Fortress by TheLegendCreator - Brief and haunting fic in which a Dwarf visits the ruins of Himring and they have a conversation. I love the view this offers of Maedhros and the fierce loyalty Himring and its folk had for him.
one whole with my other by @i-am-a-lonely-visitor - Indis' marriage to Finwë is transferred to bind her instead to reembodied Míriel. This turns out to be a good thing. An incredibly touching, beautifully wrought and worldbuilt story. I just love it so much.
The Number One Exercise for Relieving Work-Related Stress (Click to Find Out!) by @imakemywings - Date night in Mirkwood. Maglor (Noldorin princess, ex-kinslayer) adorns herself for the benefit of Thranduil (the Elvenqueen)--or that's her plan, anyway. This story is so sexy, so funny, and honestly so touching. I just adore this ship as a happy ending for Maglor and their relationship is gorgeously fleshed out here.
Cousin, Sister, Lover, Queen by broken_pencils - Lesbian Éowyn discovers desire... through Éomer's betrothed Lothíriel. Lothíriel is a stealth fav for me from the Éomer fics I used to read as a kid and I really enjoyed her here, and the lush atmosphere of this story.
His Return by @danmeiljie - Beautiful, tender scene of Maedhros and Maglor reuniting as per @tari-cua's art. Such lovely descriptions in this one and so cozy.
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animatorweirdo · 1 month
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When the Dragons Fly (Book 2)
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The day to change the course of Middle Earth came near, and Maedhros decided to finally tell you his real identity.
Chapter 14
Warnings: mentions of an incoming battle, mentions of dagor bragollach, Maedhros expexting the worse, mentions of dead people, threat of killing, a soft moment, and mention of the dream.
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The snow had arrived early on the hills of Himring, blanketing the landscape in a serene white color. Inside his study, Maedhros pondered deeply. He had meticulously outlined the plan to his brothers and allies, persuading them to join his cause despite various obstacles. Three tiring years had been spent preparing and refining his strategy, and now, the moment had arrived to set things in motion.
Yet, for some reason, he could not help but ponder your words inside his head. 
The worst enemy is the one you know least about. 
He held unwavering confidence in his plan to assault Angband, determined to rid the world of Morgoth's evil and reclaim the Silmarils, the cherished heirlooms of his house. Yet, your words resonated with a hint of truth. Maedhros realized he knew little of Morgoth's activities in the past years. The Dark Lord had remained concealed within his fortress until someone daringly infiltrated and pilfered a Silmaril from his crown.
During the siege, no one knew Morgoth had gathered enough forces to overcome most of the Noldor strongholds and then released the flames, causing destruction and death. It was because of a lack of preparation and knowledge that Maedhros and his kin barely survived the war that followed. 
Dagor Bragollach was a devastating battle, so Maedhros could only wonder what kind of dangers he might face during his assault.
There were the Balrogs, as Morgoth had many under his service, and the dragon Glaurung, who had not been seen since his cousin managed to drive the creature back to Angband all those years ago. Could the beast have matured to adulthood in the past years? If so, could Morgoth release the beast upon him and his kin if he showed himself?
A sigh left him as he began to feel certain doubts about his plan. He should have taken the dangers more into consideration before assembling the forces. 
He didn’t want to blame you for anything, but you had unintentionally planted a seed of doubt in his mind. 
Knocks suddenly echoed from his door. 
"Come in," Maedhros called out, and Maglor was the one to open the door and walk in, an uncommon occurrence unless it was about important matters.
"Our soldiers are nearly prepared to march toward Thangorodrim," Maglor started. "All that is left is for us to wait for the dwarves of Belegost and the Easterlings to arrive, and then we will be ready. Our brothers have already settled into their new roles," he explained. "We will have more men joining us once we embark on this journey," he added.
"Good. We will be ready to begin the assault the day after tomorrow," Maedhros stated. 
"I nearly can't believe that we're doing this, but counting the forces we have— we might be able to pull this off," Maglor crossed his arms. 
"Well, you better believe it, brother. It is now or all the years of work that have been in vain," Maedhros stated. 
"I must ask, why did you stall the date when we were originally supposed to embark for a day? Is there something important you must do?" Maglor questioned. 
Maedhros then thought about you. The day of the celebration was on the day when he originally planned to start his assault. Since you invited him, he decided he could indulge you to see you one last time. You seemed eager to see him there, so for your and Aelon's joy, he would come, but most importantly, to tell you the truth about himself.
He knew he shouldn't indulge himself in a simple celebration, especially at such an important time of planning. However, he felt it was the right time to tell you the truth.
For three long years, he had enjoyed your company, training Aelon and finding solace in your presence while unfairly keeping you in the dark about his true identity.
He had no desire to ruin the friendship he had with you. He appreciated your caring nature and calm demeanor. You were an excellent conversationalist and even charming in your own way. However, it was now time you two deserved to know the truth, especially considering that things could change forever.
He held great respect for you and had grown fond of Aelon, but he could no longer withhold the truth. 
"Just some private matters. It will be quick, so do not worry about it," Maedhros answered after a long silence. 
"I guess this has something to do with your special place," Maglor smiled. "I won't pry into it, but I do demand to know who you have been seeing for the past years after this," he added before leaving the study. 
Maedhros thought to himself in silence. Surprisingly, he found himself a little afraid when he would finally tell you the truth. He had never understood his cousin's fascination with humans, but now, having come to know you personally, he finally understood. However, since he and his house did not possess a great reputation, he could not help but fear your reaction upon learning the truth. 
As the autumn leaves began to fall from the trees, you were assisting with the village preparations alongside Aelon. Laughter filled the air as Aelon engaged in mischief with his friends, led by the mischievous Eweniel, who was often the instigator of pranks, with Aelon eagerly joining in her schemes.
Maedhros observed from a distance as he emerged from the forest, accompanied by Bathor, taking in the sight of you smiling and laughing at Aelon's antics. It was a scene he cherished. He could not help but envision a future where you two could live each day with more joy and freedom, unburdened by the looming threat of Morgoth.
You then noticed him and smiled. "Oh, hey! You made it!" you walked up to him. "It's been a while since your last visit. I nearly believed you were not coming at all," 
"Well, since you kindly invited me. I thought it would be rude to miss it out," Maedhros said.
 "Am I too early?" he asked. 
"No, not at all," you assured him with a warm smile. "You're right on time. The celebration will start at sundown. Fair warning, though, since most of the village men are leaving tomorrow to join the incoming battle. They're going to bring out their strongest booze, so it might get wild when the pyres are set on fire," you explained.
Maedhros smiled softly. "I need to ride back home, so I wasn't planning on drinking, but I appreciate the warning," he said, then looked you in the eyes. "There is something I want to talk about after the celebration. Will that be alright with you?" he asked.
"Of course, but let's just enjoy and have fun. Celebrations like these happen rarely," you smiled as Maedhros followed you along.
The night unfolded swiftly. Villagers drank, sang, and danced around the pyres while Aelon and his friends enjoyed snacks and games. You and Maedhros observed from the sidelines, engaging in conversation and savoring the harvested fruits.
Maedhros felt grateful that nobody in the village recognized him, seeing him merely as your peculiar friend from the woods.
The celebration feast was joyous, and midnight arrived sooner than expected. You convinced Aelon to retire after his playtime with friends and helped Helena escort her drunken father and brother home, with Hadar slightly tipsy after winning a drinking contest.
You and Maedhros then walked toward your house after bidding goodnight to Helena and her family. 
“This night has been a lively one,” you said, making him crack a smile. 
“It sure was,” he uttered. 
"And to think most of them will leave tomorrow to join a battle, where some of them might never return," you remarked, prompting Maedhros to pause, contemplating the truth he had been withholding all night.
“(Name)... the thing I wanted to talk about,” he started, making you stop and turn to look at him. 
“Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” you said, and he looked back at you with a curious look. “Then ask away,” he politely allowed you to talk first— curious to hear what you had to ask. 
“Nelyo… is that your real name?” you asked. Maedhros looked back at you with surprise. “I mean no offense, but I had this feeling since the second time we met that… you have been avoiding telling about yourself,” you explained. 
“I can understand if there are some things you want to keep private, but going as far as to avoid telling your real name. Well— it has been bothering me for quite some time,” you waited for his reaction. 
Maedhros released a sigh he had been holding back. “You are sharp as ever, (Name),” he stated. “To think you have been suspicious of me since the beginning,” he then looked into your eyes. 
“Nelyo is partially my name. It’s a shortened nickname from my father’s name, Nelyafinwe,” He explained, then took a deep breath. 
"(Name), I have enjoyed your and Aelon’s company for the past three years. They have been perhaps one of the happiest years of my long life, and I value the friendship we have created," he sighed. "But, as you have suspected, I have not been completely honest with you or Aelon," he said.
“My actual name is Maedhros, the eldest son of Feanor, and I am the one who had called all the people to gather and fight against Morgoth under my union,” he revealed, then looked away from your eyes with shame in his heart. “I hope you can forgive me for keeping my identity hidden like that,” he said and waited for your anger. 
“I forgive you,” You said, making him look back at you. “But I must ask why you felt the need to hide yourself from us?” you asked with your arms crossed. 
“I’m… not entirely sure myself,” Maedhros uttered, having not expected such a calm reaction from you. 
“Perhaps I did not want to scare you away. My house doesn’t— exactly have a well-received reputation around Beleriand,” He said. “But then I began enjoying the normality of my visits to you and Aeon. I didn’t have to worry about the troubles I face every day and finally do something else that doesn’t involve my duties or the oath I had sworn,” he explained before looking at you with guilt. 
“I began to treat you and this place as something where I can escape. I’m sorry. It was unfair of me,” Maedhros bowed his head. 
“Well, I appreciate that you decided to tell me yourself instead of letting us find out,” you said. “And I’m certain Aelon has already forgiven you. He idolizes you. He will most likely ask more questions and want to learn everything about you,” you smiled. 
“You are not truly angry with me for keeping this from you?” Maedhros asked as you two kept walking. 
"No... I can understand it from your point of view," you said thoughtfully. "In truth... we have not been completely honest with you either," you glanced at the elf beside you as he looked at you with confusion in his eyes.
"Our last name, Targaryen… Well, there is more to it than just being a family name. You see— we come from a noble lineage as well. We’re from… House Targaryen,” you said, feeling hesitant to reveal more.
“You would not know about that because the place we’re from is so far away that it does not show on any map of Arda,” you explained.
“And… Aelon doesn’t know this…” you stopped walking, “But the real reason I left our family was to protect him,” you revealed, making Maedhros look at you with a frown.  
“His birth was not meant to happen, and since I was not very popular with the rest of our relatives. I decided to take him and run away. He would have died in his first weeks of life if I had stayed,” you said with sadness as you remembered all the dangers you faced trying to protect Aelon. 
“That’s… horrible. What of your father and mother?” Maedhros asked. 
“My father did fall in a battle, but my mother…” you stopped. “She was too weak after giving birth to Aelon. She didn’t make it,” you added. Maedhros looked at you with sympathy. 
“And the reason why I was not popular with my relatives was because I was filth-blooded in their eyes and because they were afraid of me for the reputation I had,” you explained. 
“My father was a commander, and he raised me to fight alongside him. When he died, I took his place, and to ensure the safety and the power of our house. I… did some horrible things,” you said the last part quietly, remembering the crimes you committed and the blood on your hands. 
“I’m not so innocent as you may think me to be,” you stated. 
“But despite everything I did to keep our house safe from our enemies. It was not enough for my relatives, save for my uncle, who was one of the only ones to treat me with respect and certain familial love,” you remembered your sweet-minded uncle, who might have been too naive and blind to the danger and hatred around him. 
“So, after fleeing with Aelon in my arms, I hoped I could start over and leave my past behind. To lay down the blade and pursue things I enjoy without worrying about their consequences,” you explained.
You glanced at Maedhros, who had been listening intently. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this before,” you said, now waiting for his reaction.
“I’m not angry at all. I understand that you were in a difficult situation,” Maedhros replied, shaking his head. “And whatever you might have done in the past. I can hardly judge you for it, as I have done terrible things as well,” he said empathetically.
"You might think differently of me if you even knew half of the things I did," you uttered, your hands unconsciously recalling the sensation of blood trickling between your fingers, the blood of the innocent.
“Perhaps we’re more similar than we thought,” Maedhros stated. 
“Maybe… but I was bound by no oath,” you nearly whispered. 
"(Name)," Maedhros gently grasped your hand, the warmth of his touch almost startling you. He held your hand firmly and looked deeply into your eyes.
"You should not let the past hold you back. You've started over and done good things. I might not know what your life was like back then, but from what I have seen, you've changed and seem happy," he said reassuringly.
"I am..." you began.
"And you've done an excellent job raising Aelon to be a good person. Don’t forget that," he continued, smiling warmly.
"It was not easy..." you replied with a smile.
"Raising a younger sibling for the first time is a challenge. And I’ve done it six times," he added, eliciting a giggle from you.
“Thank you, Nelyo— or Maedhros, If I should say,” you smiled at him teasefully. “I didn’t think someone would accept me even after knowing my past and that I have not been a good person,” you said. 
“You are now. And besides, I expected you to scream at me and then throw a shoe at me after learning who I truly am,” Maedhros said, making you grin at the thought. 
“I always preferred to keep a calm head,” you remarked. 
“And that’s one of the things I admire about you,” Maedhros replied. 
“Perhaps our meeting was fate,” you stated. “Maybe, but I am glad that Bathor ran away that day and gave me the chance to meet you,” Maedhros said as you two continued walking toward your home. 
“If I can ask. Since you are behind the upcoming battle, do you really think you could defeat Morgoth?” you asked. 
“I believe so. I’ve gotten this far already, so there’s no turning back,” Maedhros said. “We have enough forces, so it has to work,” he added. 
“You sound… a bit desperate,” you said after listening to his tone. 
“There might be some unknown enemies we may face once we begin marching, but something has to be done, and I have longed for the day when my family could finally reclaim the lost heirloom of our house,” he explained.
“But you know, this might not be just about simply reclaiming what we had lost, but to defeat Morgoth and finally allow the people of Beleriand to live peacefully,” he said. “And perhaps to protect you…” he looked down at you.
“Me?” you questioned. 
“You and Aelon. I want to be rid of Morgoth so you can live in peace, and Aelon never has to fear going through the woods again,” he explained. “He has lived in fear long enough,” he added. 
“That is a noble cause, but… why do I hear hesitation in your voice?” you questioned. 
“I… might be afraid because if this fails, then all is lost,” he said as you two arrived at your house.  
“It’s late. I need to get back. The marching will begin tomorrow,” Maedhros said, then went to retrieve Bathor from the side of your house.
“Will we see you again?” you asked as he climbed upon his horse.
“I do not know. Things might change drastically after this,” he said. “But let's not lose hope. This doesn’t have to be our last meeting,” he added.
“I bid you goodnight,” he bowed his head. 
“Goodnight. I wish you a safe return,” you said. He nodded, clicking his heels and riding into the night. 
You thought about everything as you watched him disappear from your sight. His real identity didn't really come as a shock to you, but now you were bothered by the impending battle and the dream you had seen. His tone gave off too much desperation. One thing you knew from your past as a commander was that a desperate leader hardly ever wins a war.
Taglist: @natchayaphorn​ @kimnamnu@thatrandomidiot182 @springfountain
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thelordofgifs · 1 year
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Thinking about that line in the Shibboleth of Fëanor that even his sons might not have all adhered to the old-fashioned thorn pronunciation after his death - which immediately raises the question, so which ones did?? Random headcanons only vaguely supported by anything in the text below.
(Disclaimer that this all obviously became somewhat moot when Thingol’s Quenya ban came into play. Using crispy Amrod canon here.)
Maedhros: there are pages I could write on Maedhros’ complicated relationship with his father and his father’s legacy, it absolutely fascinates me. Initially Maedhros is the son of Fëanor who most openly defies his father - he stands aside at Losgar, he goes to parley with Morgoth literally as soon as Fëanor is dead, and, most notably, he gives the crown to Fingolfin. These are not the actions of a dutiful eldest son devoted to his father’s memory, which makes me fairly confident in saying that Maedhros definitely dropped the thorn post-Thangorodrim. It’s a fairly minor gesture of reconciliation compared to dispossessing his entire house, and I really don’t think Maedhros has many fucks left to give about linguistics after decades hanging from a cliff.
How did this change, say, post-Nirnaeth when there were effectively no descendants of Indis left to make nice with? I don’t know, but I rather like playing with the headcanon that Maedhros started using the thorn again in the last century or so of his life, especially when his mental state was particularly bleak.
Maglor: I don’t think Maglor’s feelings about his father were much less complicated than Maedhros’. He’s specifically noted as hanging out with Finrod and being trusted by Maedhros not to cause a scene at the Mereth Aderthad, suggesting that he very much follows Maedhros’ lead in reconciliation with the other side of the family. On the other hand, Maglor has always been rather fascinated by his dead grandmother, and he maintains that people’s names should be pronounced the way they want them to be pronounced. Also, several of his older works contain puns that absolutely hinge on the th/s distinction. He doesn’t drop the thorn.
Celegorm: actually never used the thorn consistently in the first place, a constant source of annoyance for his father. Celegorm values fast and efficient communication over linguistic precision - if foxes don’t have a word for what he wants to express, he’ll borrow one from Dog. Meaning over pedantry. Prescriptivism is stupid. He’s one of the fastest of the sons to pick up Sindarin, and displays zero interest in actually studying it. Post-reconciliation of the Noldor, he uses the thorn when the distinction is necessary for clarity, and doesn’t otherwise. Everyone is used to this.
Caranthir: I could go either way here, not having many headcanons about Caranthir’s relationship with his father. Since he’s not particularly on board with Maedhros’ efforts at diplomacy, let’s say he keeps the thorn, purely because nobody can tell him what to do.
Curufin: absolutely does not drop the thorn, that was his father’s hill to die on which means it’s his too. Is constantly furious with his brothers whenever they mispronounce something, this is personal, how can they just betray everything Fëanor stood for like that?? Will fully march Tyelpë out of the room if non-Fëanorian Quenya is being spoken there, his child’s ears are Pure and will not be Sullied with Improper Language. The Fëanorions are generally annoyed by Thingol’s Ban, but at least it gives Curufin a new target for all his linguistic aggression.
Amras: has never forgiven his father for Losgar and never will. Drops the thorn out of pure spite. 
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chthonion · 7 months
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What’s your take on how ósanwë works between elves?
I know we see that Annatar and Celebrimbor do it — and so do Annatar and Frodo, but that’s safely an edge case. I think the only other example I can think of are Amrod and Amras (and maybe Fëanor and Nerdanel?) in the Harrowing.
So all that implies that a general level of intimacy is required first, I think. That also makes sense as to why Annatar doesn’t just invite Maedhros to view his thoughts like he did for Celebrimbor. Even though it’s very compelling evidence for not scheming, it probably wasn’t an option for them.
Of course, Annatar is also Sauron lol. Maedhros probably wouldn’t trust him with that at all yet even if he could.
I think my approach to ósanwë is informed by two things:
The conviction that if it were easy, convenient, and ready to hand, some events in the Silmarillion would probably play out differently
The needs of the story I'm telling, which has a lot to say about boundaries, intimacies, and the navigation of the two.
So there is a level of intimacy to it, and reaching for someone you don't know well is something that you maybe can do, but it'll be harder, and also it might be weird, especially if just speaking to them is an option. Language seems to be the preferred option in most cases.
Annatar could have invited Maedhros to view his thoughts, and they could even have accomplished that connection if they were both on board with it, but I think even if Maedhros had tried, he'd have failed, because he would reflexively jerk away from a connection that intimate with someone he doesn't quite trust yet. And it doesn't even occur to Annatar to offer, because--they're not there yet.
I think we've seen Celebrimbor and Finrod do it. I'm sure Maedhros and Fingon do it. I kind of imagine Maedhros and Maglor used to communicate that way, when they didn't want small half-elven children to hear them.
I kind of wonder if Maedhros and his brothers all used to be more free with it among themselves, and aren't, anymore, because their minds have become such terribly fraught places.
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lordgrimwing · 5 months
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Foundlings #01
“Hello,” Nerdanel said softly to the boy sitting on the dinner table, his torn pants rolled up past his knees so she could clean the scrapes and cuts on his legs. “I’m Nerdanel. What’s your name?”
He had a tangled mess of dark brown hair, twigs and leaves sticking out from where they’d gotten tangled. His twin—so perfectly identically there could be no mistaking it—looked no better as he clung to Maedhors, held protectively in her eldest son’s arms.
“Elros,” The one in front of her said in a tiny voice roughened from whatever he’d gone through in the forest.
“Hello, Elros,” She set a wooden bowl half-full of warm water on the table next to him, then held up one of the soft green hand towels Fëanor wove last winter. “I’m going to clean up all these cuts and put a salve on that will help you feel better.”
“Elrond’s hurt worse,” The boy protested weakly, pointing one trembling finger at the drying blood on his brother’s face from a cut on his forehead. “I’m okay.” His voice shook almost as much as his hand.
“He’ll be okay, too,” She assured, dipping the cloth in the water and dabbing away the mud and blood on his shins. 
Liquid welled up in his eyes.
“Does it hurt too much?” She asked, softening her touch still further though she was already being as gentle as she would be with a newborn lamb or goat kid.
“Where’s our mom and dad?” he asked instead, tears forming tracks in the dirt on his face. 
That, she could not answer save to spare a glance up at her son. He shook his head slightly, either not knowing or not wanting to say until the twins were safely taken care of and tucked into a bed to rest. She feared the worst. They all heard the unnatural wind howling through the trees last night.
“You don’t worry about that right now,” She settled on, scooping two fingers into a jar of pungent, brown ointment. “You’re safe now. Just let the grown-ups worry about all that.”
He flinched when she wiped the numbing salve into the largest cut just under his right knee. She murmured soothing words to him as she worked.
As she finished, Caranthir came over with two mugs of tea made from the roots and bark of several useful plants she harvested every fall. He’d sweetened the drink with honey to hide the bitter taste for children, though he’d refrained from adding goat milk as she’d directed. Milk sometimes reduces the tea’s somnolescent properties. 
“Here you go,” She said, passing the mug to the young boy’s hands. “I want you to drink all of this while I take care of your brother. Can you do that for me?”
“Okay,” He whispered, raising it to his lips and sipping the warm drink.  
Outside, the sun sank down through the trees, casting a rose gold light across the land.
Fëanor paced in front of his second son, sitting on the step just outside the kitchen door so he could go in quickly if he was needed for something. Besides the two of them and the wandering chickens, the yard was deserted, everyone else away and busy: Celegorm left two days before to hunt an elk at Nerdanel’s request; Caranthir, Amrod, and Amras went into town; and Curufin took his son to catch fish for dinner. Fëanor’s skin itched at having them all so far apart.
“Where did you find them?” Fëanor asked, rubbing a twisted wood and hair figure between the fingers of his right hand to block unnatural ears from listening to the conversation.
It would watch the homestead closely for any sign of the children his sons stole from it. The scrutiny would wane eventually, but until then they must be extra vigilant in keeping it at bay. He’d need to make sure everyone remembered to wear their amulets and keep their talismans close to hand. Celebrimbor, especially, needed to be careful; small as he was he might easily be lured away. Fëanor clutched the figure tighter.
“About an hour passed Lone Lark peak,” Maglor reported. “We found them just before dawn and rode as hard as we dared to get back here.”
The slopes near Lone Lark were steep, with ample loose slate to send any unwary traveler tumbling down the mountain. 
Fëanor looked to the north, toward that spot, though there was no way to see it from this side of their mountain. Not so close then, but close enough for it to find them if it wanted the children. 
“We didn’t find their parents,” His son continued, his slim shoulders falling. “But I’m sure they’re dead.”
“Why?” He asked sharply. He had to know everything so he could keep the family safe.
Maglor looked up from the grass blade he’d been tearing into thin strips. “Mae found what’s left of the camp. It looked like a bear or a panther attacked them: shredded tent, claw marks on trees, a lot of blood. I can’t guess how those boys escaped and got all the way to Lone Lark.”
“No, no, don’t you see?” Fëanor asked, taking his son by the shoulders, one hand half clasped around the figurine. “Have I not taught you to recognize this? This is Its doing!”
The presence lurking in the trees finally struck again. 
“Whatever spared those boys, fate or luck or some greater power, it will come looking for them.”
A terrible feeling deep in his gut told him this was only the beginning of a great and dreadful awakening. 
Maglor’s mouth fell open.
“Did you do anything to hide your path back here? Tie mugwart to the horses’ feet? Burn vervain so the ashes fell before you?” He asked. 
“No,” Maglor whispered.
“You led it straight here!” Nowhere was safe or totally free from the creature’s reach, but he’d rather it didn’t know exactly where to come looking to finish them off. If the children saw it, it would surely be here soon, seeking to devour them entirely after that small taste. If only his sons hadn’t found them, or else had the sense to ward off any attention before bringing the foundlings home. He had only one choice now.
He unsheathed the sharp knife he kept on his belt.
Maglor stood suddenly, arms out, blocking the door. “Stop, Pa.” He commanded, his gentle voice turning hard. “They’re children. What are you doing?”
Fëanor raised the black knife and pointed it at his son. “Your hair,” He snapped.
“My hair?” The younger elf repeated, teetering on confusion as he realized he may have been hasty in his assumption of ill intent.
“Yes, I need it. Maedhros’ too—and the boys’.” He reached for his son’s long black hair as he spoke. “We saved Celegorm. We’ll save them, too.”
He failed Fingolfin, so many years ago. He wouldn’t let it claim these children too, not now that he’d learned so much.
Maglor untied his hair and bowed his head to Feanor’s blade.
“Something to obscure them, first.” He continued, the pattern and weave appearing in his mind. “Bind you four together to confuse its senses. You’ll need to wear the talismans at all times until I can weave them into the family’s protections.”
He took a handful of hair and severed it near the roots, then wound it several times around his hand, catching the wooden figure under the strands to keep it pressed to his skin. 
“I’ll start tonight, with the stars at their brightest.” He could not finish until Celegorm came back and he could take fresh hair from him, too. There was no telling how long that would be, but of all his sons, his third had the keenest senses for the terrible presence haunting the mountains. He may already be riding back toward the safety of their home.
Maglor opened the kitchen door for him, and they went inside. He quickly claimed what he needed from Maedhros and the two drowsy boys sitting on the table.
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doodle-pops · 1 year
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Hey again Mina
Feel free to answer whichever spikes your interest because I’m doing two of these and I know you must be crazy busy so.
How would the elves react to their one being Melkor’s daughter?
I read that in tolkiens earlier works he had the valar (especially Melkor) having kids. This concept has been intriguing me for a while.
Side note: I have viewed every Silm/Tolkien pages and theelvenhaven and yours are by far THE BEST EVER
a/n: Thank you!!! yes! In earlier concepts, Eonwe and Ilmare were the children of Manwe and Varda. I did love the idea, don't know why Tolkien shut it down. But that's why we have fanfiction :) This reminds me of @floraroselaughter Melkor's daughter headcanons.
One word, cautious. You were the child of the Dark Lord, the one evil being who was giving them hell on earth. All of them upon learning would feel dishearted and lose a bit of trust. As much as you two were courting for months, maybe years, not revealing your true identity in times of war makes them slowly lose their trust. They would distance themselves, but their conscious would tell them to give you a chance. You had never shown any signs of harm or sabotage. "I know you know that I'm not pleased with this discovery, but why don't you tell me everything from the start."
Celebrimbor, FINGOLFIN, FINGON, Finrod, Aegnor, GLORFINDEL, ROG, GALDOR, Ecthelion, Maeglin, Elrond, ELROHIR, ELLDAN, BELEG
The moment this is revealed, you can kiss your relationship goodbye. All the romantic treatment you would normally receive would be cut and you would be locked up. They would still have love for you in their hearts, especially after all the memories you both made, but it pained them to accept you're background. Doomed by the right of their people, they wouldn't want to harm you, so they might let you escape after questioning you to spill everything. "As much as I hate who you're descended from. . .I love you too much to harm you. So, go."
Maedhros, Maglor, CARANTHIR, Turgon
They are the ones who lose all the love they have for you and act as though you were the worse person to walk the face of the earth alongside your father. Even though you were innocent and broke away from his tyranny, you couldn't escape his generational hate. To them, you automatically became their enemy. They wouldn't even wish to hear you speak your pleas. "You're just like your father. Spilling your lies and deceiving people everywhere you go, as if you didn't deceive me from the start."
FEANOR, CELEGORM, CURUFIN, THINGOL
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symphonyofsilence · 1 year
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I'm personally of the belief that while Maedhros & Maglor heavily regretted the massacre at Sirion, even more than Doriath since Sorion was a refuge for war-torn people, half of them from a land they themselves laid waste to, and since Elwing had a lot more reasons than Dior to not want to parley with them, (that as someone who maybe not so much now that they've been fucked over by it, but at first wanted to avenge their father and grandfather, they understood), and since they raised Elrond & Elros, the living result of what they've done, they still think of Elwing as a thief and as an accomplice in their downfall, and what they've done. They believe that if she would just make the wise decision to put the good of her people & her children before her hatred and thought of revenge and give them what rightfully belonged to them, and she very well knew they were oath bound to retrieve and were not above doing anything to get back, none of this would have happened.
Of course, the same is true about Dior. They regret laying waste to Doriath, but they also believe that Dior is a thief, who had even fewer reasons not to give them their father's work.
Especially since the scenario of "parent valuing the fucking shiny stones more than their children" is very familiar to them, they have an extra, more personal distaste for Dior & Elwing. But since Dior and Elwing were much, much younger than the Fëanorians (& the Fëanorians were especially proud people) they also saw them as wilful younglings who had just taken the throne and their family's masterpiece & thought that they owned the world and had infinite power & could do whatever they want while in fact they had no idea wtf they were doing and what they were messing with.
Maglor & Maedhros might have been the softer Fëanorians, but they were still Fëanorians. I think the fandom forgets that a lot.
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jetiisyandereclones · 2 years
Text
Adar x reader
Alright, The Rings of Power fic that absolutely no one asked for, because the interrogation of Adar had me in a death grip.
Spoilers under the cut.
Warnings:
POTENTIAL SPOILERS
Adar x (f)reader
(F)Reader insert, MC (main character)
(F)Character of no description
Smut (semi public)
Nudity
Mentions of blood and injury
Manipulation
This works on the theory that Adar is Maglor, second son of Feanor, with my own idea that he was alive during the Quest to Erebor, meeting reader in the Misty Mountains after she was separated from the company
After its revealed he’s an escaped prisoner that the Elves had been hunting for years, MC goes to him. She refuses to believe what he’s done for her. All the times he’s helped her and saved her had been a lie. A manipulation.
She couldn’t believe that.
—————————————————————————————————————————
The Uruk looks up at her. He looks like he’s on the verge of tears. Not unusual.
Strangely, he always looks like he’s about to cry. No matter what his emotions may be. But this time he looked much closer to crying than normal.
Mc eyed the black blood drying and flaking on the side of his head. It was from the blow the wizard dealt him when he tried to run. MC kept her eyes on the wound, staunchly refusing to look him in the eye. Another one he wouldn’t have if not for her.
She had been in pursuit when her borrowed horse hit a root and fell, breaking his neck from the fall, trapping her beneath him. Adar had stopped, looking towards the caves before turning back. Prying the horse off of her.
Amazingly, she had avoided injury, and was looking over her. Trying to pull her up. Pick her up.
MC knew she couldn’t do this. He was her friend, she thought.
She couldn’t be the one to stop him, to imprison him. shes far too attached to see him in chains on her account.
“Go. Just, please go. I won’t stop you. But they will!”
Adar looked over her, watching the horizon as he heard howling and hoof beats in the distance, coming ever closer.
“No. I followed you here. I will not give you up now.”
MC squirmed in his arms, trying to fight against his strengthening grip on her body.
“Are you mad?! They’ll kill you!”
Adar was about to retort when he was struck with what looked like a bolt of lightning. Knocking him out and opening a large gash on his temple. Gandalf had been in closer pursuit than he had thought.
Adar fell to the ground, his body crushing MC below him, knocking the breath out of her.
After that day, he was shackled in a tent outside of camp. They had dragged him back and left him there to bleed and starve while they tried to contact the Lady Galadriel.
He had been her prisoner for years and years before he escaped. And by all accounts she was eager to have him in her cells once again.
MC was left to deal with her own conflict. She needed to see him. Talk to him, against everyone’s wishes, especially Thorin’s.
But MC payed them no mind, she had her own quest to find answers, and she would complete it.
Taking a bucket of hot water and a clean rag, along with some antiseptic soap, she made her way to her supposed ‘friends’ cell, entering without so much as a warning, but he showed no shock, if anything, he seemed to relax a little in her presence.
Looking up at her, at the soap in her hands as she put down the bucket, kneeling next to him.
Adar chuckled wryly.
“How hospitable of my enemies to allow me the materials to bath. They are most generous captors indeed.”
MC’s face warmed a little at his speculation.
“Those enemies are my people, my friends and allies. Family even. By association that makes me your enemy too.”
Adar tilted his head back and to the side, a brow arched slightly and a small smirk twisting his features.
“Narrow mindedness is unbecoming of you, Sunlight.”
MC wrung her wash cloth out with a little extra aggression, agitated at the Uruk’s apparent lack of care, even amusement at his predicament, at her.
“Lies and deceit don’t suit you. Besides, they didn’t want me to come here. Unsurprisingly The King and The Elves would much rather see you die from infection. There are guards outside to, in Thorin’s words, ensure I'm not damaged while wasting supplies.”
Adar hummed. His distaste for her company apparent, as it always had been from the start.
“And these are the ones you call allies, friends and family? You are far too giving in your good will. And in any case, how did you procure the supplies if I was forbade from their use? Did the good girl steal them on my own account? I’m flattered.”
MC curled her lip at his mocking, stinging words.
She was well aware that she was seen as being ‘too soft hearted’ for the quest, an image she had done everything to prove wrong. Not that it mattered now, Adar had successfully undone any progress she had made to try and prove herself worthy of ‘The King under the Mountain’s Company.
“You have no right to condemn my ‘good will’ not as the current main receiver of it. Keep in mind it is my ‘Good will’ that keeps you alive right now. And for your information, the supplies are my own. He can’t dictate how I use my own property.”
MC carefully dabs the lathered up cloth against the mans head a little too roughly to be a mistake, expecting him to hiss at the contact. He doesn't blink, staring at her with what she would almost call affection.
“Thank you.” Adar whispered softly, sensing MC’s agitation.
“Huh?” MC questioned, having distracted herself from the conversation by cleaning his head wound.
Adar looked at her, his eyes seemingly sincere.
“I know your will has kept me fed and sheltered these past months. And I am grateful.”
MC nodded, not knowing what to say. Instead she decided to focus on his head wound, the black blood had long stopped and all that was left was to clean his face.
A few minutes passed, MC had moved on from his wound, cleansing his entire face. Adar couldn’t suppress a shiver at the gentle attention she showed his lips.
But it wasn’t meant to last and finally, MC broke the silence.
“Why are you doing this?”
Adar shrugged slightly, rattling chains emphasising the small movement.
“It’s been an age since someone cared for me like this. It feels nice”
MC narrowed her eyes, not in the mood for the Uruk’s games.
“No, Not that. Why are you still here. You could have escaped into the mountains, but you chose to help me.”
“I recall a vow made to ensure no harm came to you. Had I left you there, you would have been devoured by wolves before the wizard could find you.”
MC looked down at the bloodied rag in her hands.
“I wasn’t aware you took your vows so seriously.”
Adar looked sharply at her.
“There’s not much I can still claim to have, but for you, I could discover the last bit of honour in my heart. For you, I will always keep my word.”
MC didn’t say anything, the sheer sincerity and intensity forming a pit if anxiety in her stomach.
Rising the rag of the rancid blood, she looked down at the slightly brown water, then eyed the rest of Adar. Standing up MC went to the entrance of the tent, calling for another 3 buckets from the pot she had boiled at her own campsite
The guards, reluctant and begrudging as they were, agreed to it.
Adar tilted his head at the younger woman.
MC looked back at Adar, noticing his quizzical expression.
“You’re filthy. Do you want me to leave? I can leave the soap if you-”
Adars hand shot out. Making MC jump at his grip.
Slowly he brought her hand up to his shirt, his armour long stripped from his body. The Uruk pressed MC’s hand over his heart. He felt warm under her palm.
“Stay, please.”
MC nodded, throat dry. She took her slightly shaking hand away to slide a bag around to his side. He hadn’t even noticed she had it.
Adar gestured to the bag
“What’s in that?”
MC looked down at where Adar was staring.
“A gift from an old friend of yours. Apparently from before your days as an orc.”
Adar froze, his only movement was the flutter of his eyelids as he looked up and into empty space, mind 1000 miles away.
“Elrond…” He whispered, his eye twitching a little.
MC nodded.
The emotional storm behind Adar’s eyes broke slightly. A single tear slid down his face and she didn’t know if he was angry, sad, jealous, or elated.
She could only describe his expressions the mounting emotions of a thousand years of loneliness and longing.
MC quickly wiped the tear away as the guard came back with the water.
She told the guard him and the others they could go. There was no danger here for her. They hesitated, but eventually complied, having no desire to remain in the corrupted elf’s stench.
Once they were gone, Adar confirming they were back at camp, MC slowly started to cleanse his head and upper torso, starting with his greasy hair, massaging the scalp and loosely tying it up so it didn’t get in the way.
She swore she heard him purr as she rubbed behind his ear. Then working her way down his neck she hit his shoulders, blocked from view by his shirt.
MC couldn’t get it off. Not with his chains. So instead she reached into her skirt, procuring a small dagger. She held it up to the light, showing him the gleaming blade, allowing him to keep it in his sights.
“I'm just going to cut that shirt off okay. I'm not going to hurt you.”
Her face was burning with the implications of her words. MC knew for a fact they were not lost on Adar either, if his sighed laugh was anything to go by.
“Oh sunlight. My body is yours to do what you want with.”
MC nearly choked at this. Both the words, and the fact he seemed so genuine. Even going so far as to lean back, his head tilted to rest against the pole he was tied to, his neck open to her. Completely vulnerable as he closed his eyes to enjoy the woman’s hands working over him
Adar felt the tell tale coldness of steel against his skin,, heard the tear of his filthy undershirt being cut, then the tug of the woman tearing it off. However it took longer to get the shirt off than she thought.
The material was old, but thick and sturdy. It did not tear easy. But MC was determined to have him bare chested.
After several minutes of cutting and ripping in the wrong places, his Sunlight finally managed to get the shirt, Which was now reduced to ribbons, off of him.
She was panting a little from the effort and Adar couldn’t help but smirk a little. He could have told her where to cut, or even offered to rip his shirt off himself.
But what fun was that?
Trying to get her breathing under control, MC went to get her rag, dipping it in the dirty, but still usable water.
She’d get rid of most of the grime with the dirtied water, before cleaning him fully with the cooling clean water.
MC soaped up the rag, and approached the man. She truly did think of him as a friend, but she had to admit.
He stank.
The smell of the road, sweat, blood and orc all over him. Kneeling in front of his pallid, scarred, but still very strong chest, MC decided it was safest to work on his arms first.
Somewhere neutral.
Or so she thought.
He was grabby. Flirty even.
Whenever she brought the soapy rag close to his hand, he'd grab at her, entwining their fingers only fro her to have to untangle herself from him to move on.
His affections did not dim as she moved to his neck and chest.
She stuttered a little when it came to cleaning his chest. The intimacy spooking her, but swallowed and continued on.
If he was displeased by her contact, he wasn’t showing it, preferring instead to just watch her, a hand resting on the floor next to her thigh.
Sometimes he flexed and stretched his fingers, to whatever memory had captured his mind and occasionally, she felt them brush against the skirt of her dress.
Despite the fact that she had him shirtless before her, his chest out on full display, these light touches made her breath catch more than the sight of his broad shoulders.
And if she didn’t know better, shed say he was doing it on purpose, reaching for her through the haze of his daydreams.
Eventually she was done with his chest and back, a massage having coaxed sweet whines and moans from him. The kinds of which she hadn’t heard a man produce before.
The ones she had gotten so close with had been guarded, too concerned with appearing in control that they hadn’t allowed themselves to enjoy her own touches.
An issue that doesn’t seem to effect the man in front of her.
Moving out from behind his back and gently laying him back to lean against the pole, she was faced with another issue...
What was she going to do with his lower body? She couldn’t possibly just undress him fully...
Could she?
Adar noticed the woman’s dilemma and decided to put her out of her misery.
“You may remove them.”
MC snapped her face up to his.
“Huh?”
“I am giving you permission to undress me, lay me bare and Finnish your mission of cleaning me.”
MC swallowed hard, her face warming at an alarming rate.
“Uh, all of you?”
She really didn’t want to gesture down at the bulge between his legs, but it wasn’t needed. He knew what she was getting at.
“All of me, my Sunlight. Do not worry. I will make no advances towards you…”
“Even so, wouldn’t it be better if I left you to clean yourself up for this part?”
Adar laughed.
“Oh no, sweetheart. You're hands are much more pleasurable than mine.”
MC giggled nervously. Trembling hands reached for the strings of his pants, pulling them loose.
Mc looked straight down at Adar’s thighs as she pulled his pants off, him helpfully raising his hips. Absolutely no shame to be found.
MC silently huffed.
She guessed if she lived that long shed probably give no fucks either.
But still. It didn’t escape his notice that she was NOT looking up from her task. The rhythmic and soothing sound or the rag getting dipped in the water bucket and lathered up the only sound breaking the deafening silence.
Adars legs twitched as she ran the rag up his thigh. Cleaning his inner leg before veering off towards his hip bone...
Adar had to smirk at the scene before him.
Without knowing it, she was managing to give him the best tease he’s had in a long, LONG time.
But still, he decided it was time to move this game forward.
“I think my legs are clean enough. Don’t you?”
MC froze.
She had deliberately been avoiding the area between his legs, hoping he’d take over for her.
Not because she didn’t want to touch and care and feel him in his most vulnerable state.
But because she did.
However now he had cornered her.
Adar leaned forward towards MC.
“Don’t be shy. I vow I mean you no harm Sunlight”
Mc hesitated, rinsing the rag before going for one of the clean buckets.
She supposed this area would he more delicate, and would require completely clean water.
Adar watched in amusement.
She was so flighty. So obvious.
He could smell her want from across the camp, the poor thing.
She had been needing for a long time.
However. Determined to save some face, she bravely ignored her own needs, and if he was right, her own heart.
No mind. He’d show her soon.
For now, he would have mercy and guide her.
Adar took the cloth from her hand and left it to the side, taking the soap and putting it into her hands.
At her shocked look of realisation he again tilted his head.
“The material is too rough, sweet one. You may use your hands. Like this.”
Adar took her smaller, soapy hand in his. He wrapped it around his proud, leaking cock gently and guided her hand up and down, taking her free hand to clean down the base of his shaft and his balls.
She must've had some experience cause muscle memory kicked in. And she started gently massaging without his direction.
Adar sighed, his head leaning back as she stroked him.
But soon enough she had deemed him clean, scooping water with her hands in order to rinse off the delicate and sensitive flesh of his manhood.
They were almost done, mc directing him to kneel up, grant her access to the back of his thighs.
He swore she took great pleasure in lathering him up, an ass woman, he supposed.
He also noticed her increasingly bleary eyed expression, the way her face leant against his thigh. Rubbing closer and closer to his cock as her clever little fingers worked their way in between his leg and up towards the base of his spine, dragging soapy water behind them as a thin disguise to her true wants.
Finally, MC’s face was where he had dreamed of it being for so long, lovingly pressed against him, soft lips brushing maddeningly against his shaft, her fingers playing around his ass before moving to squeeze at him, digging her fingers into his skin.
Adar wanted nothing more than to let her have her fill of him, but their first time would not end in him emptying down her throat.
So reluctantly, almost painfully he bid her to back off, stand.
MC whined at the loss of contact before blinking, her eyes widening at what she had almost done.
The woman scrambled away, babbling apologies but Adar would hear None of them.
He grabbed her, snagging her by her cloak, and pulled her to him.
Holding her in a tight embrace he took her face in his hands, crouching down so he was eye to eye with her, hoping that she saw nothing but his adoration.
His devotion.
Gently, he placed a kiss on her forehead then spoke.
“I think, it might be getting too cold to be in this state. Would you mind rinsing me, then helping me redress?”
MC nodded silently, grabbing another bucket.
Looking him over she decided how to do this.
“Can you stand, tip the bucket over yourself?”
Adar nodded as he stood up, the chains keeping him close to the pole with the added height
Somehow being naked only made him seem bigger and more imposing to his human audience.
MC couldn’t say he was perfectly sinewy and lean like the other elves shed seen.
Adar was older. He’d seen more punishment and pain.
Victories and failures painted his sickly pale skin, in areas his flesh seemed to hang off his bones from lack of eating.
But all of these facts MC didn’t see. To her, he was as strong as stone and unstoppable as a raging river. The scares over his body carving their way over his body like the carvings on his armour, almost hypnotising.
A grotesque work of art.
MC watched as she passed Adar the bucket, admiring the shift and flex of his body as he raised it above his head, emptying the water over himself and sighing as he felt truly clean for the first time in the longest time.
Mc broke herself out of her trance, her gaze shifting to the small sack of clothes.
Rifling through it, she found a small, lightweight towel and threw it to Adar, smiling as it hit his face.
MC then picked up his clothes and handed them to him.
“I didnt know you could take an elf by surprise.”
Adar hummed in amusement.
“My lady your attack was cowardly and underhanded.”
MC handed him his pants.
“I'm sure the shame will follow me to my grave. Here.”
Adar looked at the clothing. Eyes far before finally taking them from her.
“These are mine...”
“what was that?”
“These. They are mine. From...so long ago. He kept them all these years. Elrond.”
MC looked at the way Adar brushed his thumb over the soft material in his hands.
“He didn’t tell me what your history was...”
“That’s best left in the past. For now at least. Now is not the time to be reminiscing.”
Adar fastened his pants. Soft and worn in perfectly to him, despite the twisted years reflected on his body.
Mc handed him his shirt.
“What is it the time for then?”
Adar awkwardly wrestled with the shirt, trying to find a way to put it on despite the chains. Eventually simply feeding the thin cloth under his shackles.
“I believe I owe you an explanation. Come, sit.
I was in those caves a long time. Inconceivably long, for someone of your kind. I had forgotten what warmth felt like.
But then you appeared. But it had not been the first time in saw your face.”
MC’s brow scrunched. She KNOWS she had never met adar before.
“Has anyone ever told you elves were prone to prosthetic dreams?
Visions of an ever changing future. As shifting as sand.
Well. I have had one dream. Ever since I was imprisoned by the lady of Lothlorian.
It sent me to those caves. Kept me there until that day came around.”
The sinking feeling returned to MC’s stomach,
“What was the dream?”
Adar swallowed.
“You. I saw you. Us together. Bound by blood and rope and steel.
I waited for 1000 years for you and then suddenly, there you were.
Why, do I keep following you, only to be chained once again for it?
Because you kept me prisoner. All those years in the dark I waited Sunlight. Waited and waited and waited. And then you were there. You held the key to my prison and thought you could just run off with it?
I don’t know why the Valar sent me those visions but they never changed. As steadfast a comfort as they were an unrelenting torment.
But you're here, with me now. And I wish to keep it that way, come hell or high tide.
You were sent to me for a reason. The gods made you for me.
As my doom or my saving grace, we will have to wait to find out. If you'll have me.”
MC was frozen. Whatever she was expecting, it had not been that.
“Adar....”
Adar closed in, his nose bumping against hers gently.
“Maglor. My name is Maglor.”
MC leaned in, bringing her lips so close to his.
“Maglor, kiss me?”
Maglor closed the gap, sealing their lips together. MC moaned into the kiss, only getting louder as they split apart.
Maglor nipped at her bottom lip in reprimand.
“Hush, Sunlight. Do not let them hear.”
MC went to nip back at Maglor’s lips but he pulled back.
“Sunlight, do you want this. If you say yes. I will not stop. Ever.
Elves bond for life, where you go, I will be. Do you understand?”
“I understand. I will have you, Maglor. Uruk or elf, I will have you.”
Maglor groaned almost imperceptibly as he kissed his Sunlight, enjoying the intoxicating warmth of her lips.
MC’s hands fumbled at the draw string of Maglor’s pants, frustrated that she couldn’t get them undone.
Maglor chuckled.
“Peace, my love. Let me do this, you get comfortable.”
MC straddled his lap, facing the man as she went to pull off her dress, fully ready to bare herself to the elf in front of her but he stopped her.
“There is nothing I wish for more than the two of us to he able to love under the sky, naked to the gods with nothing to hide, but I fear this time we shall have to be cautious. Our enemies are listening. Waiting. And you are for my eyes only. The dress stays on.”
MC groaned, but cooperated. His words held truth.
Finally, FINALLY Maglor had freed himself.
He was as ready as he was before and MC wasted no time sinking down onto him, the stretch of him burning and she whimpered, her head buried in his chest. The neck of his shirt exposing his skin to her as she rested her cheek against it.
Maglor shushed her, cooing and rubbing his scarred cheek against her.
Once she felt she had relaxed enough, MC began to rock on Maglor. Slowly and gently.
It was a tender coupling despite the circumstances, full of whispered praises.
However, it was not to last, Maglor had just slipped a hand under MC’s skirt when he heard footsteps, their unfortunate arrival coinciding with the irresistible pulsing of his Sunlight’s warm, wet walls.
The lady of Lorien herself burst into the tent, and saw the position they were in.
She immediately tried to reason with the young, enchanted woman, not daring to come any closer to the dangerous Uruk before her.
“MC, don’t listen to him, he’s bewitching you. You don’t have to do this!”
Maglor sighed, smirking. The slight release of breath the only giveaway to the raging pleasure and love he was releasing into his Sunlight that very moment.
“I'm afraid it is already done, we are bound”
His face was the absolute image of composure as he faced down his long time captor, his orgasm washing over him
Galadriel looked down at the scene in disgust, MC’s legs shaking as Maglor granted her her own release, thumb discreetly playing with her clit under her dress, which covered them both, hiding their actions.
She tucked her head into Maglor’s chest, hiding from the elves in the room as she came down from her orgasm.
Galadriel sneered at Maglor.
“If you are bound, then she is truly lost to us. Chain her, with her lover. They can rot together in lightless cells.”
Galadriel stormed out of the tent, followed by the guards once they had chained the elf and human together, binding them to the pole. She would not admit the guilt that ate her at allowing her cousin to take a human into his web of lies and deception.
Inside the tent, still held tight inside his sunlight Maglor held her close, kissing her forehead before pressing his against the crown of her head.
Looking her in the eye, a whispered “good girl” was all she heard before falling asleep against him.
Come morning, the only thing in the tent were the shackles that helped tie the woman and elf together. Open and empty
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dovewifes · 16 days
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was standing under the shower when the phrase "turukáno's specialest little mourning dove" came into my head unprompted and sparked a whole au in which celegorm Somehow finds and enters gondolin following aredhel's disappearance/death (still working out which) and is kept captive there by turgon.
turgon hates him, of course (as he does all the fëanorians) and only keeps him around for aredhel's sake but it turns into hate with a side of fucking which is catastrophic considering that (in my personal canon, at least) 1) turgon/aredhel has their self-induced 'flowers in the attic' thing going on, 2) aredhel/tyelko has their 'friends with benefits' 'it's complicated' 'we don't have time to unpack all of that' thing as well, 3) maeglin.
maeglin is a reason all on his own because when aredhel dies, he unconsciously seeks for a maternal presence in his life due to grief and maybe jealousy (hence idril), so he finds it in tyelko, who is like aredhel in spirit, and also in turgon, who's the closest remaining relative he has in gondolin. i think that tyelko likes the father figure role he steps into with maeglin, so he feels extremely guilty when maeglin eventually comes to him wanting more. turgon, on the other hand, has no such qualm—he needs control in his life, especially over his relatives, so with aredhel gone, of course maeglin must fill that role.
throughout all of this, celegorm remains hidden away in gondolin, and he begins to understand aredhel's motivations for running away. maybe he does eventually escape, maybe he doesn't. maybe he finds his way to sirion somehow and doesn't reunite with his siblings until there's fire all around them. maybe he dies in the fall surrounded by dead roses and doves. maybe he's turgon's messenger that never returns </3
post (and initial thought) based on this:
(+ more Thots below :)
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ever since i read those four words (mentioned like. a grand total of two times in bolt... vol. ii, iirc???) they've been rattling around in my brain nonstop, like they just live there—they are me, and i am them <333
anyway, will make a proper post re: my thoughts on the doves of gondolin, turgon's messenger, and the tower of pearl soon, but for now, just know that i'm rotating celegorm being turgon's specialest little mourning dove and songbird so hard, him just being a little bird turgon keeps captive and makes him sing for his pleasure and amusement in more ways than one,,, maglor isn't the only singer in the family, okay?? maglor isn't the only one who's capable of ending up alone at the edge of the universe humming a tune, or whatever. but anyway! yeah :)
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stilltrails · 1 year
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How do I phrase this--I know there’s a common complaint about the interpretation of the Kidnap Family being too happy. There’s an implication that people don’t acknowledge how complex Elrond, Elros, Maedhros, and Maglor’s relationship, or are just not aware of it (or worse, not capable of understanding the complexity of their relationship)
And I have two thoughts about this--
The first being that there actually is a lot of media that does portray a realistic take on their relationship. It’s out there. Most fanfiction that starts from the twin’s childhood, at least from what I’ve read, has acknowledged the complexities and fear and anger that Elrond and Elros have towards the Feanorians. 
Fandom media especially portrays Elros as being distant to the Feanorians, even as an adult. 
I think it’s a bit insulting and offensive to fans and writers to assume that there’s no complex takes on their relationship, and that all takes are 100% lovey dubey when writers and fans and artists who are a fan of the kidnap fam have spent a lot of time pouring complexities of their relationship into their work. 
Myself included. 
It’s like saying “these people have never ever delved into the dark relationship between these four and just want it all to be 100% happy” when we’re sitting here with long stories, metas, comics, etc. about the darkness you’re talking about. We put in the hours and did the work. 
It’s there, but I think if you’re someone who’s not a particular fan of this family, or the Sons of Feanor,  you’re not going to be looking deep enough in the first place. And that’s one of the spaces I see the criticism from. From people who don’t really like this dynamic. And that’s fine, but please don’t assume that writers, fans, and artist haven’t been making the most complex kidnap fam content when you haven’t looked, or when you’re admittedly not a fan of it. 
That’s a bit insulting. 
Secondly, it’s fanfiction. The Silmarillion itself tends to hyper-focus on agony already. Why would fans dedicate their time solely to reproducing the agony that already exists. For almost everything sad that happened in the Silmarillion, I’ve seen at least ten happy portrayals in fanfiction, because fans don’t just want sad things.  And that’s fine. 
That’s like saying, “Don’t make Sam and Frodo happy together in Valinor because realistically in canon Frodo probably deals with a lot of PTSD and Sam is probably still hooked on his wife.” Like maybe that happened, maybe it didn’t. But don’t blame fans for wanting a happy ending.
 The purpose of fanfiction is to delve from canon, especially if that canon makes you sad. It’s escapism, especially if you relate to these characters. That’s why i’m always particularly bothered by, “Why are people always portraying the Feanorians and Elrond and Elros in a happy relationship, they canonically did this”. 
Because we can? Because these are characters people relate to on somewhat personal levels, and being able to write them in a way that makes us feel good is allowed. What’s the point of fanfiction if we’re criticized for how we write it? 
And again, the idea that no fan of the kidnap family is aware of the complex, dark relationship is both infantilizing, hurtful, and dismissive to the writers, artists, and fans in this corner of the fandom who have dedicated time to exploring the dark complexities of the relationship. 
But we also don’t have to 100% fixate on the sadness. 
From the words of Arwen herself, we choose both the bitter and the sweet. Let us be XD 
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animatorweirdo · 1 year
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Imagine your feanorian family reacting to you courting someone
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(Another headcanon for little nerdanel’s adopted daugher collection. I hope you like it. This is oc x reader by the way, meet Melo)
Requested by @eunoiaastralwings
Warnings: none really, some goofy crushing, pining, family fluff, protective brothers, and finally some courting and a reaction from the family. 
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-Your family was famous and known for their misdeed in the past regarding the kin slaying and the silmarils. The wounds were still there, but after several years of peace– things had significantly calmed down, and you could live more peacefully without anyone seeking a fight. 
-People did still talk badly about your brothers and father. You did not like it, but since there was nothing you could do about it– you learned to ignore them and continue your passion for painting. 
-You had grown into a beautiful young elleth, and your skills and paintings allowed you to become quite famous among people. 
-Your techniques sometimes were considered a hazard since you had a tendency to throw paint and make a mess, but the outcome of your paintings would even make the proudest of elves captivated by their beauty and clean work. The balance of colors, strokes, and even the soul put into them had made people spread the word, and you almost got a new commission every week. 
-It got you busy, but you didn’t mind since you could spend more time painting and being in your world of colors than dealing with drama and people who only sought trouble. It was like a dance to you when you threw paint onto the white canvas and started working with the brush, creating each paint stroke with grace as you often hummed music in your mind. 
-Music was one of your inspirations. It helps you concentrate and keep your mind active as you paint. You even sometimes had Maglor play for you as you worked, but you have often listened to what you hear in your mind. It makes you lose yourself in thoughts, like today when you had a visitor. 
-Melo was one of the low-class elves from the Vanyar with a Noldor heritage. He had a rough beginning ever since the kin slaying took place– and his father, among many, left with the host that left for Middle Earth. He was just a little child back then, and it had been hard for his loving mother since he was part Noldor. 
-People had shunned him for it like they shunned every Noldor that remained in Aman back then. It wasn’t easy being a low classed elf, especially being half Noldor despite looking like every Vanyar. 
-Things had calmed down, and he had managed to build a balanced life for himself and his mother as a scribe. 
-He wanted to give his mother a gift, so when he saw some of your works displayed in the homes of lords and people above him. He was impressed and captivated, so he sought you out in hopes you would take a commission from him. 
-He knew about your family like everyone else, but your story always made him curious since you were adopted into the family by Nerdanel and have accepted your seven brothers and father despite the truth about them being kinslayers.
- He was nervous when he first walked through the hallways. You were technically a princess while he was just a scribe, and there were rumors about how you were just as mad as the rest of your family, but he didn’t believe such a thing until he heard strange banging sounds.
-He found his way to your workplace and witnessed as you were throwing paint buckets at a white canvas with force, each bucket creating a loud bang and a huge mess with paint. 
-He was confused and almost believed the rumors to be true– till you took out your paintbrush and began painting the messed canvas with deep focus while humming a melody he had not heard before. 
-Melo was baffled yet captivated by your way of working, and he couldn't help but watch as you blended the colors and soon painted a beautiful landscape with animals and flowers. He did not know how long he had been watching, but you were shortly done with the painting and standing in front of it with an approving gaze. 
-You stood silent for a moment before finally speaking, acknowledging his presence. 
-” Well…are you just going to stand there or say something?” You questioned him with a smile as he broke from his thoughts and spluttered incoherent words in embarrassment. 
-Melo was nervous when you were now giving your attention to him, but he managed to collect himself to explain his visit and see if you would take a commission to make a portrait of his mother as a gift for her. 
-He was prepared for rejection since he heard people used to pay for your work, and he was not wealthy enough to pay for anything worth your skills. He was surprised when you just laughed and explained you used to sell your work because you and your mother used to be struggling, but now that you were well off, you paint for a price that is usually cheap and sometimes even free. 
-His commission and wish for a canvas size were moderate, so he didn’t need to pay you. 
-He felt a bit embarrassed for believing an old rumor, but he was relieved and liked how casual you were for royalty. 
-You found his little embarrassed antics kinda adorable and found his shyness rather endearing that you couldn’t help but tease him just a little. 
-You ended up talking a bit more as you accepted his commission, and he handed you a picture of his mother. You took a look at his mother and told him you found her rather beautiful, which made him blush a little. 
-He was also a bit flustered when he realized he had been rambling about things while you had been listening to him this whole time and apologized for boring you. You laughed and told him you didn’t mind because you found his rambling adorable. 
-The encounter was short lives as he had to return to work, so you bid him farewell and promised to inform him when the painting would be ready. 
-It was such an intriguing meeting, and there was something special about him because you couldn’t stop thinking about him. 
-You were disappointed because you thought you would not see him again till the painting was ready, and you would have to bid him goodbye, but it changed when you joined a meeting with your family and found him standing in the corner documenting. 
-You were rather happy to see him again, so you couldn’t help but walk over to talk to him. 
-Melo was startled when you greeted him, but he returned the greeting, and you both talked throughout the meeting. You apologized that you couldn't start his commission early because you had several pre-ordered commissions, which would take time before you could begin his. He assured he didn’t mind and that he would gladly wait. 
-Time passed fast because before you knew it– the meeting was already over, and Melo was panicking because he was supposed to write everything down, yet he got caught talking with you. Having empty pages was never a good thing in his line of work.  
-His supervisor was pretty angry and scolded Melo for slacking, so you interfered and took the blame since it was you– who disrupted his work, so you convinced them to be lenient and leave Melo only with a strict warning not to do it again. 
-Melo thanked you for your help and then asked next time that you don’t come to talk to him when he was working, so he won’t get into trouble again. You only laughed and promised to avoid that in the future before you heard your family calling you, and you bid him farewell for now.
-He bid you farewell as well– then you both returned to your own things. 
-Melo was honestly surprised to see you again and how eager you were to talk to him. He did enjoy it and was surprised you took the blame and helped him out of trouble instead of leaving him alone to deal with it. Not many people would do that, so he was grateful. 
-He couldn’t stop thinking about you since you were so much kinder than how people made you out to be. 
-It was the same for you as you couldn't stop thinking about him again. You wanted to hear him talk and see that adorable smile again. He was running through your mind so much that you couldn't properly focus on painting commissions, so you decided to go out and buy more paint from the market. 
-When you saw him in the market holding a basket and going through some food stalls, you got excited and almost ran up to him to greet him. 
-Melo was surprised but equally pleased to see you again, so you both talked throughout the day, going from stall to stall. You talked about your passions and interest in work and shared some drama. 
-Time passed fast once again, and you returned home in a happy mood. Apparently, you were in such a good mood that your mother noticed right away and asked you about it, which you didn’t mind sharing. 
-Nerdanel chuckled and explained how it sounded like you had a crush on your new little friend. 
-You didn’t think about it at first, but when you started seeing Melo more often at the market and observed how you felt after them. You started considering it because you decided to paint a portrait of him from your memory once. 
-It was a good portrait, but you felt unsatisfied because you wanted to make it properly where he modeled for you. 
-You decided to confirm it by asking Maglor since he knew a lot about romance, and when he explained how being in love worked, it hit you pretty hard, and you got excited by the realization. 
-You thanked Maglor for his help and decided to barge into Maedhros’s room to tell you about your discovery. He was startled and almost spilled his drink on the book he was reading, but he listened as you rambled about your crush and asked him to keep it a secret from the rest of your brothers. He promised to keep quiet and wished you good luck trying to win the ellon’s heart. 
-You then went to find your mother and asked for advice on how to win someone’s heart. 
-Nerdanel was prepared for it since you spoke about Melo for the first time, so she made you sit down and gave you a brief lecture on how to charm someone. She even gave you old tips on how she used to flirt with Feanor, who used to be nervous around her back when they were courting.
-You almost laughed at it because you couldn't imagine someone like your father being nervous. You and your mother giggled so much that Feanor came to check on you to see what was so funny since he heard you from a hallway. 
-You left him outside the matter and started planning how to charm Melo’s heart. 
-You met with Melo as usual since you were now good friends, but this time you threw in the conversation couple of hints and pick-up lines which left him incredibly flustered. 
-You decided to help him buy stuff when he didn’t have enough money and always refused when he tried to offer to repay you. 
-You became a bit touchy as well since you liked touching and holding his incredibly soft hands, but you were always careful not to overwhelm him and apologized whenever he noticed, telling him your hands slipped. Even though; it was on purpose. 
-You even used an excuse to meet his mother for better details for the portrait. You called her even more beautiful than in the picture, leaving Melo even more flustered but happy that you thought so well of his mother since your father had a history of thinking lowly of the Vanyar. 
-You sometimes even see each other in events and meetings, and while you promised not to disturb him when he was working, you sometimes threw in some words and lines which would leave him blushing for the rest of the day. 
-Melo was confused by your change in behavior and how bold you had become with him. He didn’t mind– though, because he kinda liked it even though he probably shouldn’t. He did try to figure out the meaning of things and gifts you started giving him. 
-You started inviting him to your painting room, allowing him to watch as you painted, and even allowing him to try to paint something. He felt a bit embarrassed because his painting skills were on a beginner's level, and nothing compares to yours, even though you assured him his paintings were great and adorable. 
-Then, one day, when Melo was waiting for you. He found a couple of portraits you had made of him in a corner, and he couldn't help but stare in wonder and with a red face because he now knew the meaning behind your strange actions.
-You froze, caught red-handed as you watched him look at the portraits you made of him. You did not mean for him to see them yet, so you felt embarrassed and hoped you didn’t cross the line this time. 
-When Melo asked about them, you mustered the courage to explain and confess your feelings here and then and how he had been your inspiration lately. 
-You were prepared for rejection, but you were ecstatic when Melo confessed he felt the same ever since you started seeing each other. He just didn’t have to courage to confess his feelings because you were a princess, and he was someone from a lower class. 
-You were happy and explained it didn’t matter if he was a lower classed elf. He stole your heart, and now you wanted to see if you could have his. 
-He accepted your proposal with a gleeful smile, and you two officially started courting. 
-You were over the moon and couldn’t help but tell your mother that you have succeeded in winning your ellon’s heart. 
-Nerdanel was happy for you and told you to bring him over when you felt ready.
-You were excited and started to leave the house more often and come back late, which caught the rest of your family’s attention as they began to get suspicious. 
-Your mother and Maedhros already knew about it. Maglor guessed it some time ago and was okay with it. Caranthir already knew as well since he saw how you always went to Melo whenever you had the chance and sometimes stared at the Vanyar with a stupidly in-love face. 
-Now, Celegorm and the twins were the ones who only started to notice and started to observe your outgoings more. 
-They even went far to spy on you when you went on a date with Melo, watching from the distance as you laughed and shared kisses with the strange ellon they had not seen before. 
-Since they were more protective than the rest of your family, they had plans in mind on how to confront you and your new supposed lover. Luckily you were already familiar with their antics after living with them for a long time, so you managed to avoid them and keep Melo safe from their shenanigans. 
-They tried to expose you by asking about it during dinner, but you decided to make it a game and play dumb by asking which Vanyar they were talking about since you met a lot of Vanyars during the day. The game went on as they tried to make you speak about Melo. Half of the family was laughing at this point since they already knew. 
-You finally decided to give mercy and told them about Melo. 
-Celegorm and the twins felt betrayed that you tried to make them feel stupid and almost demanded to know if Melo was worthy of you. You assured them Melo wasn’t a lecher who would try to take advantage of you because you were the one who chased after him, and he was easy to fluster. He was your adorable little book nerd. 
-Celegorm still said along with the twins that they would keep a close eye on him, which you did not mind unless they attempted anything funny with your lover. 
-Feanor was okay with your courtship since it was your life, and he trusted you knew what you were doing. You appreciated it since it showed he had come a long way from the prideful elf he used to be. However, he did say he’ll do something if Melo ever decided to break your heart, which you kept in mind. 
-Curufin didn’t really care, but he promised to keep an eye on Celegorm if he ever caught him planning on doing something out of line. 
-You were happy with your family’s approval and even brought Melo to meet them when he felt ready to meet them since you met his mother already, who loved the painting you did for her. 
-Melo was nervous, but he got along just fine with your mother and oldest brothers, who were friendly to him and talked about stuff. Celegorm and the twins did try to intimidate him, so you kept a careful watch on them. 
-You were happy as Melo got comfortable with your family. You even brought him to meet your favorite cousins, who were delighted to meet him. 
-You enjoyed your courtship blissfully. But, no one knew that you were already planning to ask Melo to marry you and what the wedding would look like, but you kept those plans to yourself because who knows how big of a heart attack Celegorm and the twins would have if you suddenly announced an engagement, so for now you kept quiet about it.
Taglist: @heilith
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witchofhimring · 9 months
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Maedhros's relationship with his father (headcanons)
note: Angst ahead!
-Feanor was fairly young when he got married to Nerdanel and had his first son. I imagine Maedhros and Maglor to have been born early on that that there was a big age gap between them and the rest. Because of this the two older sons were expected to be mature and responsible from a very young age. This is also because the two of them are closer to the throne than their brothers.
-While Nerdanel may not have a favourite, the one she is closest to is Maedhros. He's just the easiest one to relate to. As a little boy he usually ran to his mother when something went wrong. Not that Maedhros wasn't close to his father, just his mother was a more calming presence.
-I like to think that Feanor was a good father up until Morgoth's influence corrupted him. In the early days Feanor was still hot headed but having children seemed to help. With this new responsibility Feanor worked harder to be more cordial with his family. It also healed the rift between him and his father.
-While Maedhros was good with a sword his interests lay more in the academic area. He liked to read and write, this way he developed an analytical mind when it comes to problem solving. Feanor would even have his son look and run certain functions in the castle.
-While Curufin might be his favourite, Feanor could not chose a better heir. He is very proud of his eldest, even if he does not always show it.
-When Maedhros was born Feanor decided to somewhat bury the hatchet with his relatives and tried to be civil with Indis and his half siblings. Part of this was due to Nerdanels influence. She wanted her children to know their cousins (hypothetical at this point), and was worried that being separated from the rest of the family could alienate them.
-As a child he was closest with his uncle Finarfin as they were closer in age. While Feanor wasn't very close with his youngest brother he knew it made his son happy. As Maedhros got older uncle and nephew still got alone but were not as close because Maedhros now had cousins and brothers.
-Maedhros doesn't know Indis too well. This was mostly because his father always seemed bitter whenever she was around. But she was always so sweet to him. When Maedhros was old enough to understand the situation it did somewhat change his view of her. On one hand she seemed to be a nice person, on the other her marriage to his grandfather permanently altered Feanor's life.
-Maedhros is his grandfathers favourite. He's his first grandkid and his birth brought Feanor back into the fold. Maedhros's interest in history and literature come from his grandfather teaching him Noldorin history. Finwe likes that he could have long conversation with his eldest grandkid.
-As Morgoth's influence starts to corrupt Feanor, father and son drift apart. Maedhros's relationship with his cousins is threatened as his father becomes hostile towards to his brothers (especially Fingolfin). There were many arguments between the two. Feanor started to hate the relaionship between Maedhros and Fingon, and Aredhel and Celegorm. Shortly before his exile Feanor and Maedhros got into a fight over his friendship with Fingon, which resulted in the relationship between father and son being permanently damaged.
-Despite the tension between them Maedhros still went with his father into exile. This mainly came down to him feeling obligated to at least outwardly support his father. The other reason lay in the fact that he felt a bit insecure over his place in his fathers affections. While Curufin being Feanor's favourite had not been too hard to handel for Maedhros, although it did bother him somewhat, it became harder to handel. He would find himself shunted off to the side in favour of his younger brother. So him leaving could be seen as his desire for his fathers affection.
-Part of the reason Feanor's death was so tragic was the lack of closure for Maedhros. After the burning of the ships Maedhros considered turning back, but felt he should continue forward. He intended to speak with his father after the battle, but of course that did not happen.
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tar-maitime · 2 months
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in the tale of her own grandeur
For @maedhrosmaglorweek Day 7: Storytelling Prompt: Memory and legend, Maglor's lamenting
Maglor is already working on the lament for his sister. 
Maedhros isn’t dead yet - at present, in the middle of this War of Wrath, she is more alive than he’s seen her in years - but there is a quiet certainty in his bones that it is only a matter of time. She throws herself into every fight with a fierce, reckless joy. She doesn’t watch her back like she used to. She’s been getting careless with her armor.
He does what he can to mitigate, and so do the twins, to the extent that he allows them to know that a problem exists at all. But he fears for the day, surely inevitable, that it won’t be enough.
He ought to count himself blessed that he could keep her for this long, he tells himself sometimes. Maedhros has held on for longer than he would have dared to hope for in those first days after the Nirnaeth, and he suspects that Elrond and Elros have especially helped in the most recent years. For a little span of time, when Maedhros had let herself love the children and they had lost their fear, but before this war began, he had almost hoped that their little family might hang on indefinitely - that their island of peace amidst all the destruction might last.
But the war is here, and Maedhros is dancing through its jaws waiting for it to eat her, and so Maglor has started to work on her lament.
It has to be perfect, is the thing. And he has to have it ready when - as soon as she’s gone, because everyone else is going to want to tell their own stories of her: the kinslayer, the fallen High King, the disgraced and insufficient consort, half-orc or thrall or mere broken princess in over her head. He’s heard them all, at one time or another. And it’s his responsibility to make sure that Maedhros’ story is told properly, right from the outset.
Which is why, when a trio of healers come racing into the camp bearing his mud- and blood-stained sister unconscious on a stretcher, Maglor’s first, awful thought is No. It can’t be. It’s too soon. I haven’t even gotten up to the Bragollach yet.
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polutrope · 2 months
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Not a character ask, but I hope it's ok? Anyways, wanted to drop by and thank you for articulating why recently it has been itching me whenever fics/posts/etc put Maedhros as the best and better parent of the E&E twins! And on a related note, do you have any thoughts whether (going with the narrative idea of cascading events starting with sparing the twins) searching for Elured & Elurin shouldn't have been also connected to those, and technically therefore should've been attributed to Maglor in the published Silm (or rather, connected to aforementioned chain events), as well?
(In reference to this.)
Totally okay, and thank you! I am happy to see from the reception of that post that I am not alone.
I love this insight! It certainly fits with the themes of pity and repentance in the series of events I talked about (i.e., pitying and raising Elros and Elrond, being glad at the appearance of the Silmaril in the sky, "Less evil shall we do in the breaking", and finally casting the Silmaril away and wandering in pain and regret).
I like your term "cascade" for these events. I talk at the end of the this bio about pathos and why I think these four events are a large part of why readers finish the Silm especially sympathetic to Maglor.* In that vein, let's dub this the "Pathos Cascade" 😁.
*Not all readers, of course. Without judgment of either pathway, I'd be curious to see how reception (of Maglor, but also more broadly) changes depending on whether someone came to the Silm via fandom or not.
I had thought in my original post that the only mention of Maedhros searching for Dior's sons came from a marginal note on the Tale of Years -- the briefly sketched annals that Tolkien revised in the 1950s, published in War of the Jewels -- in which it is Maidros/Maedhros who fosters Elros and Elrond. Which would support the hypothesis that it's part of the "Pathos Cascade"!
But Christopher in a footnote reminded me that the "failed search" element actually first entered the story in The Later Annals of Beleriand (written sometime between 1930-37, published in The Lost Road):
"The young sons of Dior, Elboron and Elbereth, were taken captive by the evil men of Maidros' following, and they were left to starve in the woods; but Maidros lamented the cruel deed, and sought unavailingly for them." (Annal 306[506])
(Yes, Elured and Elurin's names changed a lot. The servants became Celegorm's in The Tale of Years.)
In the Later Annals, Maglor is still the one fostering Elrond ("Elrond was taken to nurture by Maglor," Annal 329[529]; Elros conceptually existed by 1937, but Tolkien never added him to this particular text). So that's a point against the hypothesis.
However, we're talking about evolving and unfinished drafts, so it doesn't mean Tolkien might not have reassigned the search to whichever brother he eventually decided should get the "Pathos Cascade". Or not.
(Sidenote: It's not like either Maedhros or Maglor is unrepentant in any version -- they are both the "sympathetic Feanorians" -- but still, in every draft only one of them is firmly connected to the sort of pity and "letting go" we see in the "Pathos Cascade".)
Regardless of Tolkien's intentions, it fits well, and I like it as a way to support my take that all four surviving brothers search for the sons of Dior (for complicated reasons that I won't get into). Perhaps it's hypocritical of me to simultaneously insist that only Maglor should be a parental figure to Elros and Elrond, but it helps me make sense of events. As the discussion around this has shown, there are other ways to do so, but this one works for me.
Thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about the Silm's textual history. I know dissecting this stuff is not everyone's cup of tea, but I love it.
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