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#the silm meta
urwendii · 6 months
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So we know the Maiar are made to serve right? So let me offer this approach:
It is the Valar's duty to gently curb, redirect, and make sure this compulsive trait does not go off track.
A Maia would ignore their own needs until his task is done (the gravity of this depends on your own headcanons about if incarnated Maiar are bound to their fana's biological needs).
Aside innate workaholic tendencies — after all their Lord Vala's orders are paramount to execute, they do not do well if left alone and taskless. A Maia without direct affiliation to a Vala is actually considered as a higher form of punishment and ostracism.
The best case we have is Sauron post-Morgoth, who once left alone is actually far more dangerous and unhinged than he was in his Lieutenant's days. We can go further by pointing out how Leader Sauron doesn't appear to be really good at his job if it isn't for the sheer might of his Ainurin nature against his enemy.
Maiar are not meant to be left by themselves, i like to think them as highly social creatures — not necessarily extending to extrovert qualities, if anything some very own virtues are very much introverted — but to be part of a Vala House is a requirement for their happiness. As fulfilment to their very own nature.
And that's a delicate balance to approach, isn't it? because as much as servitude can become the blade at the neck, it demands of the Vala to be actually caring about their Maiar. And that opens for so much potential happening in Ainurin society.
And perhaps in this new lense we can look at Aulë who lost the most Maiar to Melkor and wonder... Aulë is a prideful individual whose traits are, in fact,much similar with Melkor. But unlike the dark Lord, Aulë is endowed with the ability to perceive his place in the grand picture and therefore, ultimately humbling his most impulsive actions.
We see it with the Dwarves. After giving in to his most secretive desire to create something for himself, something that was not part of the Music — a trait i extend to all craftsmen of his House — he is humbled by Eru and submits to His Judgment. Of course for Aulë it all ends well (aside the new strain on his marriage, but that's for another debate).
So I can imagine the Maiar of his house chaffing under imposed limitations and therefore finding Melkor's appeal all the sweetest. But even in their switch of allegiance the compulsion to serve and do their new Master's biding remains.
This is not a rush for power. It is simply the opportunity to do more for a Vala, perhaps more than what they felt they could do under the patronage of another.
The bottom line of this is this: please take care of your Maia. Valar — as the beings on top of the hierarchy scale, just below Eru Himself — have the duty to provide protection and security for their lesser kin.
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melestasflight · 1 year
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While writing Fire for @zealouswerewolfcollector I ended up thinking a lot about the parallels Tolkien creates between Fëanor and Fingon.
Most remarkably, how similarly he describes the moment of their final battle and death:
There upon the confines of Dor Daedeloth, the land of Morgoth, Fëanor was surrounded, with few friends about him. Long he fought on, and undismayed, though he was wrapped in fire and wounded with many wounds; but at the last he was smitten to the ground by Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, […]
And then:
At last Fingon stood alone with his guard dead about him; and he fought with Gothmog, until another Balrog came behind and cast a thong of fire about him. Then Gothmog hewed him with his black axe, and a white flame sprang up from the helm of Fingon as it was cloven.
Fëanor and Fingon both lead their people to a battle against Morgoth with a tragic end. They are both left fighting on the battlefield alone, surrounded by fire, and perish at the hand of the exact same Balrog.
It is a seemingly strange parallel to make because these two characters often appear as complete opposites in the narrative. Fëanor divides his people by burning the ships at Losgar - while Fingon unites the Noldor by saving Maedhros. Where Fëanor begins a rebellion for his own cause of regaining the Silmarils - Fingon seeks ‘not his own, neither power nor glory.’
And yet, despite their differences, Fëanor and Fingon are the quintessential Noldos of the first age. Fingon becomes everything that Fëanor prophesizes for the Noldor in Beleriand:
We are threatened with many evils, and treason not least; but one thing is not said: that we shall suffer from cowardice, from cravens or the fear of cravens. Therefore I say that we will go on, and this doom I add: the deeds that we shall do shall be the matter of song until the last days of Arda.
Fingon's lament in The Lay of Leithian echoes Fëanor‘s prophecy (the lines were adapted later to be Gil-Galad’s own hymn):
The song of Fingon Elves yet sing, captain of armies, Gnomish king, who fell at last in flame of swords with his white banners and his lords.
Fingon indeed becomes the epiphany of the exiles: the combination of his remarkable heroism, valor, and the final doom that awaits him. Essentially, the fundamentals of The Silmarillion itself.
It is no wonder then that during the rebellion of the Noldor, Fingon the Valiant is moved by Fëanor’s words: ‘Yet I am not the only valiant in this valiant people’ (my emphasis).
They share an ambition, a capacity for leadership, and a skill of voice and strength, not to mention their connection to Maedhros, and the element of fire.
Letting Fëanor and Fingon die almost the exact same way signals the beginning and the end of an era for the Noldor in Beleriand: the death of their first King and, for all intents and purposes, the last.
Fëanor leads the Noldor to Beleriand, and with Fingon, they cease to exist as united people. Turgon becomes King, but who does he rule beyond Gondolin? The remainder is scattered and isolated after the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, the Wars of Beleriand are effectively ended until the Valar take action, and the Doom of Mandos is completed.
For the sons of Fëanor, more than anyone, the Nirnaeth and the fall of Fingon signify a return to the very beginning. A cycle that starts all over again: with the death of their King in flames, their homes destroyed, their hands stained, and being left with nothing but an unfulfilled Oath to regain the one remaining piece of Treelight.
The fight for victory in Beleriand begins with Fëanor and ends with Fingon. It will have to continue in a new book with a new story that goes beyond the fate of Fëanor‘s Silmarils.
The War of Wrath shifts the narrative to a new continent, with a new generation of Elves and their High King - who will die in flames, much like Fëanor and Fingon, fighting before the very gates of Mordor.
But that certainly merits another post.
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naruthandir · 9 days
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Hold on, I'm having Elrond thoughts right now. He looked at the mistakes of his ancestors and said "Nope. Not doing that again." When he sends Aragorn on the quest to destroy the ring he doesn't do it to get rid of him, like Thingol did with Beren. He does it because he knows love is powerful and he wants him to succeed. When he builds a secret kingdom, he makes sure to make it warm and welcoming for weary travelers, instead of keeping it hidden for everyone but a few select individuals. When the fellowship gets together, he tells them to swear no oaths. He's a symbol of the reconciliation between peoples: He has blood from the Maiar and blood from the Edain, he was raised by Feanorians, he is married to a lady born from the love of a Noldo and a Sinda. He keeps a pet hobbit around his house and takes him with him when he leaves Middle Earth. His father is a wandering star that shines for all, and when people need help they go to Elrond, because they know Elrond can help. So yeah, those are the Elrond thoughts I'm having.
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Beleriand is gone and Tol Himling remains. No one lives there, few dare to venture close. Even years later, the fortress feels like bitter grief and pained endurance.
The remaining Noldor– and there aren't many of them by the Second Age– start sailing there. It's not far from the shore; an easy enough journey, even for someone with little seafaring experience.
One day, someone– no one is sure who– takes one of the broken pieces of Himling's walls, carves Maedhros's name into it, and sets it as a tombstone. After that, more graves appear, slowly at first, then more quickly. Old battle-songs and tributes to the dead are carved and painted into the walls. Soon, the meadow around the old fortress is full of memorials, some made from the ruins, others lovingly crafted and brought from the mainland. For all the Noldor fought amongst themselves in the First Age, now their headstoens stand together. In the cemetery, the House of Finwe is united in death as it never was in life. Graves for Feanor and Fingolfin sit side-by-side in a sorrowful peace neither lived to see.
Himring stood on an icy mountaintop where the snow never melted, but Tol Himling does not. One spring the barren meadow blooms, red poppies and blue forget-me-nots. It flowers every year after, new hues and blossoms appearing annurally until the graves are surrounded by a colorful sea of flowers.
Not many Noldor choose to sail west– most that go back to Valinor go in death– but those that do leave tokens on Himling before they leave, broken weapons and battered armor. Maybe they do it to leave something with the dead who may never return from Mandos. Maybe they do it because like the dead, their fight in Middle-Earth has ended.
Men who sail by the island– always by, never to– are very sure that there are ghosts there. To them, the place seems strange and misted, and every figure there looks like a shade. They speak of a golden-haired warrior who spends hours talking to some of the graves, a king who dutifully cares for the tombstones, wiping away dust and moss, the strange dark-haired figure who comes every year to sow wildflower seeds. But those aren't the spirits of the Noldor dead. Only those who would remember them.
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It is possible according to canon that Elrond and Elros were names given by Maedhros and Maglor based on where they found the twins; the names they were given by Elwing and Earendil are probably lost and forgotten. So consider:
Elrond meets Elwing in post-Fourth-Age Valinor. She calls him by the name she gave him, and he does not respond to it, for he has forgotten that name.
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echo-bleu · 6 months
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Alright, I've seen a lot of different descriptions and depictions in art, but I don't think this is actually settled in canon, so help me with something:
No "I want to see the results" you cowards, just make up your opinion on the spot if you don't have one.
I used round-shaped fruits but we also don't actually know the shape of the Silmarils, so assume for each answer that we're talking about whatever the largest diameter is in your shape of choice.
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mascula-sappho · 7 months
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all Elves in Tolkien are autistic btw. the extreme focus on Things They Must Be Good At, the overly sharp senses, the rigidity, the lack of Facial Expressions As Done By Men, the obsession with How Things Must Be, and the random outbursts of song and dance sure sound like a group stimming session to me....
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symphonyofsilence · 3 months
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What I find fascinating about Galadriel's story, the story of the rebel Noldo who dreamed of ruling a land of her own, actually survived to rule her own land until the end of the third age, and all the while dreamed of home is that it's the story of someone taking all the risks, paying all the price, forgoing everything she had, going all the way, and getting what she wanted only to find out that that was not actually what she wanted. Only to want to go back to where she was at the beginning. Only to want to go home. Maybe it was as glorious as she imagined, but it wasn't worth the price. Maybe it was exactly what she had in mind, but she's got it years after she's wished for it & her wishes had changed since then. Maybe she was actually good at it, but "there's no place like home".
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victorie552 · 3 months
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Ok, so Noldolantë, "The Fall of the Noldor" is a lament composed by Maglor about what happened before, during and after First Kinslaying at Alqualondë. It's such a good song that it's played regularly in Aman and Valar listen to it often (I swear, I swear it was in the Silmarillion I just can't find it now).
It's also a more or less common fanon that Maglor continues writing Noldolante through the whole First Age. Makes sense - it's about fall of the Noldor, and Noldor did a lot of falling back then.
Headcannon time: So my first thought was that Noldolante must a long, long, long epic of a song. So it probably has many parts, right? Iliad has 24 books/parts, somehow I think Noldolante would be at least just as long, and there are longer epics. And again, just like Iliad, unless you're a scholar, in the daily life you don't really listen to/read the whole thing, just reread and repeat the most dramatic fragments. What I'm trying to impress upon you all is that the story would have different segments, or chapters, if you will.
And if Maglor continues to write the story during the FA, there would absolutely be a moment in the lament where the OG Noldolante becomes Noldolante 2, and even Noldolante 3. There may be the same musical motif or something, I decided that Maglor IS that good of a bard to keep it all consistent enough so you know it's all the same story, but the style changes a lot - it's been 400 years in the making, let The Music Elf have fun!
So, Point 1: Many, Many Parts, basically Maglor's FA WIP
My second thought was that, while Feanor invented his alphabet, elves learned their history mostly through oral tradition aka songs and spoken stories. Noldolante is definitely a historical record, where a historical event was archived for future generations.
(It was a also a way to deal with grief, guilt and blame Maglor and all Noldor have faced regarding First Kinslaying - free therapy! But that's not what this post is about)
Archived.
My 2.5 thought was that Noldolante isn't just recallings of how pretty and horrified the beach looked during the murdering or how mad and sorrowful the sea was at everyone during the voyage or even how awesome and charismatic Feanor looked during his speeches that every single Noldo was ready to fight Morgoth barehanded in his name - no, this is a record of who killed who, who got killed by whom, and how.
Noldor and Teleri knew each other (were friends, even!) before the First Kinslaying, so I'm confident that after a lot of interviews, detective work, and cross-referencing, Maglor could and would create a very good... name list. Practically every Noldo and Teler present during First Kinslaying would get a stanza in a song, more if he killed someone, most if he killed many people. Killers and killed would show up twice, first in a fragment listing the killers and their victims, then in a part listing the victims and their murderers. Basically it's the same thing twice, but from different POVs. With when, where and how included.
(It was seen to be in bad taste to compare kills during Maglor's Regency, when most of his interview-part work happened. People did it anyway. There were a Saddest Kill, Funniest Kill, and Weirdest Kill discusions. There was a Tier List. These were weird times to be a Feanorian Noldo.)
(It WAS in Bad Taste, but at least people talked about it. I cannot stress enough how much free therapy this lament provided)
(Little did they know, when Teleri started getting reembodied in Aman, they had very similar discussions, but more in a "I can't believe he killed me like THAT" way. Long, long, long after the First Age. Noldolante is a gift that keeps giving)
So, Maglor had all the historical grith and no common shame to create a "We Killed All These People And We Feel Bad About It" banger of a song, and every Noldo had a very personal reason to at least remember the fragments they are in. It's a hit on a scale never seen before.
(I'm not sure how to tackle the issue of Nolofinweans and Arafinweans learning about Noldolante after crossing the Ice. But there were discussions. There was anger, there was "????", there was controversy. Basically, the song got bigger and bigger rep no matter what your opinion on it was. By the time of Mereth Aderthad it was an important cultural and political piece and at least Fingon's forces were included in the main song. It had parodies.)
Point 2: Archive Function/Kill count storage. Cultural phenomen, every Noldo included
This is where my personal nonsense begins: Main Noldolante was done, there was nothing more to say about First Kinslaying, all killings and deaths were well documented.
But the Siege started. And the Noldor kept dying.
It was less dramatic than it sounded - between the big battles the siege was maintained, but orc raids also happened and sometimes one to few Noldor died in skirmishes. The legal procedure was to document the death of a fellow elf and send a word to king Fingolfin. The cultural procedure, technically started by Feranorians but adapted by many more, was to send the name, common characteristics and cause of death to Maglor's Gap. After few months, King Fingolfin would send reinforcements, short condolences and financial compensation if they had family. After few months, family of an elf would also receive a personal lament for them and a place for them in a Noldolante.
Yes, every lament Maglor created in that time was technically part of the Noldolante. Noldolante 1.5, if you will. Laments make in that time were very customized, and simpler than Noldolante Main, but were still considered a part of the same song. Of course, nobody was expected to know and remember laments for every single Noldo, younger Noldor born in Beleriand could even only know fragments about their family members. Only Maglor would ever know Noldolante in full, but it was understood that everyone had their place in The Song.
The results of Great Battles were harder to document, but Maglor did that. Of course, Dagor Bragollach was hard on him personally, but he worked his way through.
(High King Fingon forbade creating laments for his father. There were no songs for Fingolfin. Apart from in Noldolante, of course. Of course. Maglor did not share the lament with anyone, but he sat long hours and many nights with a blank paper before him, looking at the candle flame and thinking of the past and the future. The song unsung, but there)
Nirnaeth was... Maglor was never more hated and more approached at the same time than then. Still, Noldolante grew and grew, as if people knew the end was near.
It was Second Kinslaying that destroyed the myth of Maglor's song. Feanorians didn't know the Sindar they killed, but surely, they couldn't just left their names unmentioned like they did with orcs? So, Noldor talked, but the battle happened in caves - it wasn't uncommon to find dead bodies in empty rooms, with no witnesses to what happened. Surviving Sindar didn't want to share any names, even when Maglor strong-armed some into talking with him, and good for them. Maglor made a big lament anyway. Maglor, wild, with no shame and dead brothers, with legacy crumbling around him. Noldolante, with holes.
After Third Kinslaying, Noldor didn't want to talk. Lament for Sirion didn't have any names. Clearly, songs weren't a way to go anymore, it was always about live witnesses. And so Maglor raised the twins.
Lament for Maedhros was sung repeatedly. There was no one to hear it.
Point 3: Only Maglor knows Noldolante in full. But that doesn't matter, because everyone knows the important part: the Noldolante is finished. The Star of Hope rises in the West and the story goes on. The Fall has ended.
#silm#silmarillion#noldolante#maglor#yet another post that went in different direction than I planned#started with meta went into headcannon and ended with fanfic angst#I wanted to end it with crack!!!#I mean. I mean#it all makes kind of some sense if we're talking about elves here#but guys Noldor had Men and Dwarves as allies#Maglor would want them in his Historical Record song#I think with Dwarves they would mainly refuse when he asked them if they wanted a part in Noldolante#so maybe he would only get some allies and personal friends of Maedhros in#but Men#guys Men. they would agree and they would make lists and it would become Clown City so fast#but Sons of Feanor aren't known for their ability of knowing when to quit#so Maglor has a Noldolante 3.0 Standard Version with 254 Parts that has Elves and an Occasional Dwarf Only#and Special Version Noldolante Deluxe Extra Edition with 547398134 Parts that includes Men#everyone is included you don't have to die in battle#all common causes of death have a dedicated jingle to them#to the point you know a man's cause of death after 3 notes#these parts of Noldolante well the music bit actually survived into the Fourth Age#the words are gone but the music is played at funerals in some places#The Noldolante Main survived only in parodies though#actually Finished Noldolante is a very good thing huh#as in no more Fall of The Noldor#they can finally catch some break#I believe that during Maglor's Regency Era all Noldor did was Processing. and breeding horses.#Noldolante? more like Maglor Finally Discovers Shame: A Story#I think some personal revelations on legacy and connections between children and life's works would be made
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maeofthenoldor · 1 year
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As Tolkien often observed; “names often generate a story” and always nearly contributed or suggested something of the nature or personality of the character, thing or place that has been named. Yet the most intriguing name he has created in my opinion, is the main protagonist of “The Hobbit” Bilbo Baggins who is the hero of the classic tale, and despite being seen as such, his name holds interesting and contradicting connotations. For Baggins suggests harmless, humble and well- contented characters (though with criminal undertones!) Yet the name Bilbo suggests an individual who is sharp, intelligent and even dangerous….
The family name of Bilbo is  “Baggins” which derives from a double source-the English Somerset surname Bagg, which means “moneybag” or “wealthy.” The term “Baggins" itself means “afternoon tea or snack between meals” and at first is appropriate in describing our well off  hobbit. Initially he is presented as a mildly comic, home-loving, upper middle class “gentle hobbit” who seems harmless and composed enough, if given to some annoyance. He is mostly concerned with his mothers dishes, doilies, domestic comforts and food. However, once recruited by Thorin and his Company, we see the respectable gentle hobbit reveal his true colours- he is an excellent and highly skilled burglar.
Tolkien has maintained that his tales are often inspired by names and words from the real world, and indeed, in the jargon of the nineteenth-and early twentieth century criminal underworld there were a cluster of names around the term “bag” and forms of theft. “To bag” means to capture, to acquire, or to steal. “A baggage man” is an outlaw who carries off the loot and a “bagman” is the man who collects and distributes gold on the behalf of others by dishonest means or purposes.
His surname not only characterises himself, but also plots out the narrative for the story. For in the hobbit we discover Baggins is hired by Dwarves to bag the Arkenstone. He then becomes the baggage man who carries off the loot. When he realises Thorin has fallen under the gold sickness, he becomes the bagman and is dishonest to the newly crowned king, distributing the Arkenstone to Thrandruil and Bard. After the Battle Of The Five Armies he hands out the treasure to those who are rightfully in need of it, and thus ends him being the bagman.
Another aspect of Bilbo Baggins character can be revealed by the analysis of his first name. The word “Bilbo” entered the English language in the late sixteenth century as a name for a short and deadly piercing sword of the kind once made in the Spanish port city of Bilbao where the name derives from. This is an excellent description of Bilbo's elvish sword (often called a letter opener) named “Sting.” Found in the troll hoard, Bilbo's “bilbo” can pierce through any animal hide that would break any other sword. In The Hobbit however, it is the hero's sharp wit rather than his sword that gives Bilbo his sharpness. Bilbo's well-honed wits allow him to survive the journey and to trick monsters, a dragon  and to get himself out of bad situations. 
When we put these two names together as Bilbo Baggins, we fully understand the two aspects of his character, showing someone who is dangerously witty, but ultimately good and humble to a fault. If we want to dig deeper into how these names also affected the events of the Lord Of The Rings, one has to look no further than Frodo Baggins.
 Along with the Baggins family name, further “baggage” is passed on to Bilbo's nephew and heir, Frodo Baggins who in the context of the one ring is a link to another underworld occupation; the bagger or the bag thief. This bagger or bag thief has nothing to do with baggage, but is derived from the French word bauge, meaning “ring.” A bagger then, is a thief who specialises in stealing rings by seizing a victim's hand and stripping off its rings. It had common usage in Britain's criminal underworld between 1890 to 1940. The Baggins name holds the idea and plot for both The Hobbit and Lord Of The Rings. For Bilbo's skill as a burglar, one might say that in the perspective of outsiders, the Baggins baggers of Bag End, Bilbo and Frodo, are naturally born ring thieves.
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the-elusive-soleil · 8 months
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Elrond telling the Fellowship "no oath or bond is laid on you to go further than you will" hits a bit differently once you realize that he grew up in the later part of the First Age and a) lost his parents, b) saw the city where he was born get destroyed, and c) had a front-row seat to Maedhros' and Maglor's issues, all stemming from the last time someone swore a great big Oath pertaining to an object of power.
"Isildur would not listen to our counsel" hits WAY differently when you think about how Isildur was among the last direct descendants of Elrond's twin brother, his twin brother who chose to be mortal and died thousands of years ago, and about how so many people Elrond was close to in the First Age died or were lost because of the trending objects of power back then (except for Gil-galad, who had just recently died because of a different object of power), and how Elrond must have been desperate to not have to go through this nonsense again, please not another person he's close to getting caught up by something like this. And then Isildur keeps the Ring anyway. And he dies.
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urwendii · 7 months
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I don't have anyone to talk about this so I will ramble about something that takes too much place in my already overcrowded brain before it implodes. It's not a polished idea but i need to put it into words.
So it's a follow up on this post on entropy and Manwë and Melkor.
In it I highlight that Melkor's ultimate destruction about the end of the Great Battle doesn't fix Arda (or the universe in the larger scope regarding entropy) but in the end, is the trigger for its destruction.
It's one of my most fervent headcanon since I read the Silm all these cursed years ago. But to me the end of the Dagor Dagorath isn't a happy ending. The destruction of Evil itself (without inferring with jirt religious views, or the existence of ultimate evil, because I am no believer in both topics.) Should bring about the Healing and usher the era of Remade Arda (Unmarred only implies a reset. Which I always interpreted the D.D as not a reset. It is a deconstruction.)
So, Melkor (or Morgoth - the Evil Dark Lord, Nihilism personified) is finally defeated. Except. Except it breaks the World (as in the entire system housing the Dwelling).
And not because the Battle (in whatever form it will take) creates physical damages to Arda, to the point its fully ruined beyond the skills of the Valar to repair, but because Melkor is part of the equation of Existence.
Light and darkness, life and death, creation and destruction. One can not exist without the other. You kill one, you break the equilibrium. The Breaking of the World is triggered by Melkor's destruction.
What is happening beyond this is something we can use our minds to picture. A new Song? As in a new big bang for Eä ? Why not. The tale is about Arda (as the system) but the Aratar came beyond it and as Melkor is also part of them (despite their most valiant tentative to deny it.) The damage of his destruction must create ripples that go beyond Arda's scope, not unlike gravitational waves traveling through the cosmos. (considering I liken Melkor to a black hole, i like this allegory as well)
But also :) not to dive into the Information Principle because I will refrain from boring most of you, but nothing is supposed to be destroyed and lost forever. Unless you want to take a huge swing at the most cherished law of physics (but you and I are going to have A Talk then.)
The finite destruction of Melkor is unnatural. It goes against the most fundamental law of the universe Eru is said to have created.
And maybe Melkor's role in all of this was to be the trigger for a new era, a better one. He's a tragedy in itself, if so. Heck, he is the most tragic character in this. But in a way he also is the most important of Eru's creation, his most important child, the one that will end up being the cornerstone for the realisation of Eru's vision.
That ended up being a disjointed rant but my point is that I have a lot of feeling about the Dagor Dagorath and the roles of all its participants and the role of Melkor in the larger picture. *makes vague gestures*
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Thinking about Maglor (as you do) and how the only death directly attributed to him is Uldor, the treacherous captain of the Easterlings who turned against the Union of Maedhros at the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.
Of course, we can infer that Maglor has killed quite a few people before Uldor, and will go on to kill many more. Between Alqualondë, Menegroth, Sirion, and his tenure as captain of the Gap, Maglor has plenty of blood on his hands. But the text is quite vague about his role in these killings. We are not told, for example, that Maglor slew Nimloth or Dior. We are not told the names of his victims at Alqualondë, or the names of the guards that he murders at the end of the War of Wrath. While Maglor is certainly involved, his individual contribution is “lumped in” with the collective guilt of the Sons of Fëanor.
…which makes his slaying of Uldor all the more interesting!
Suddenly, Maglor is acting as an individual. It is not the sons of Fëanor who slay Uldor, but rather Maglor himself. The manner in which he kills Uldor is also worth noting: Maglor defeats him in single combat, meaning that they probably faced each other one-on-one. In the death of Uldor, we see a rare instance of Maglor acting independently.
Why this sudden independence? I think Maglor takes a personal interest in Uldor because Uldor is a traitor. He is separating from the sons of Fëanor, something that Maglor proves incapable of doing. The death of Uldor emphasizes Maglor’s greatest virtue (which is simultaneously his greatest vice).
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kanalaure · 9 months
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sometimes i think about feanor naming his third child, the one with his mother's hair, strong-finwë, and wonder if it wasnt a desperate howl to the heavens that this one would live, be strong, not leave him
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So I think one thing that really drives Feanor is his grief– he looses Miriel, and he very clearly never recovers from that. There's the pain of loosing a parent and the added layer of Miriel's death being, on some level, a choice to leave Feanor. You can't tell me he didn't internalize the idea that he wasn't good enough for his mother to stay ay least a little. And I can't help but imagine that most of Valinor really wasn't helpful. There was probably a lot of vague sympathy with no real understanding of the situation, people who in theory thought Feanor had the right to grieve but reacted pretty badly to any actual displays of grief, and some people who insisted that Miriel chose to stay dead, Finwe and Indis were happily married, and therefore, Feanor shouldn't feel sad about it anymore. Even for those with more understanding of grief, it's still a really complicated situation. But you know who would understand Feanor?
Elrond. And the reason is Elros and Arwen– Elrond knows what it's like when someone you love dearly chooses to leave you, essentially forever, not because they don't care about you or because you weren't good enough, but because they have to make the best choice for themselves. And how you can respect that choice, and be glad that they did what they needed to, but still grieve them and the relationship you had with them. He understands those complicated feelings and how to process them in a healthy and non-destructive way.
And I'm losing my mind over this because Feanor is the one who starts the kinslayings and the cycle of violence between elves, and Elrond is the end result of all that violence; born to two refugees and raised largely by Feanor's sons. But despite all that, he's good and kind and able to focus on healing instead of pain. He ends the violence and makes a sanctuary where everyone is welcome. And he's able to do what Feanor never could, and not be consumed by his pain. And that means so much.
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ardafanonarch · 4 months
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Hi there! This blog is a very cool concept.
If you feel up to it, I'd like to know where the idea of Maedhros as a diplomat and scholar comes from.
In fic he's often portrayed as such in Valinor, serving at Finwë's court, sometimes being close with Fingolfin, bring into linguistics, etc.
Thank you!
Maedhros the Diplomat (with an Addendum on Maedhros the Scholar)
[~3.4k Words]
Ah, Maedhros. A treasure trove of fanon for our first excavation. As this is also our first investigation of characterisation, let’s establish a structure for talking about characters.
There are two ways that we learn what a character is like from The Silmarillion:
The narrator tells us, either: a. with short, pithy statements (someone is “wise” or “steadfast” or “greatest”) b. with longer descriptions
We deduce character from their actions and their relationships to others.
Using this structure, let’s look briefly as what we know about Maedhros.
1a.
Maedhros isn’t “mightiest in skill of word and hand” like his father or “the strongest, the most steadfast, and the most valiant” like Fingolfin. He isn’t even noted as being particularly good at anything like his brothers Maglor “the mighty singer,” Curufin “who inherited most if his father’s skill of hand,” or Celegorm, Amrod, and Amras who were all skilled hunters. He’s not even noteworthy for any negative traits like Caranthir, “the harshest of the brothers and the most quick to anger.”
Despite being one of the story’s protagonists, and certainly the most narratively prominent of the sons of Fëanor, all Maedhros gets in this category is “tall”[1].
1b.
In this category, Maedhros gets more fully fleshed-out:
[At Lake Mithrim] Maedhros in time was healed; for the fire of life was hot within him, and his strength was of the ancient world, such as those possessed who were nurtured in Valinor. His body recovered from his torment and became hale, but the shadow of his pain was in his heart; and he lived to wield his sword with left hand more deadly than his right had been. The Silmarillion, “Of the Return of the Noldor”
Maedhros did deeds of surpassing valour, and the Orcs fled before his face; for since his torment upon Thangorodrim his spirit burned like a white fire within, and he was as one that returns from the dead. The Silmarillion, “Of the Ruin of Beleriand”
Perhaps one of the most striking descriptions of Maedhros comes from an abandoned alliterative verse poem, The Flight of the Noldoli (=Noldor), published in The Lays of Beleriand and dating to 1925 — about a year before Tolkien first put the “Silmarillion” into a prose format in the annalistic-historical mode of the published text.
... and Maidros tall (the eldest, whose ardour yet more eager burnt than his father’s flame, than Fëanor’s wrath; him fate awaited with fell purpose.) Flight of the Noldoli, lines 123-126
Fire, valour, pain, deadliness, wrath, doom. Taken alone, these passages don’t exactly suggest "diplomat and scholar," yet those qualities are a cornerstone how we often see Maedhros discussed and portrayed by fans. So why?
2.
Maedhros the Diplomat, at least, seems to be based on what he does in canon.
Pausing for a moment, what does it actually mean to be "diplomatic"?
Here’s from Merriam-Webster under diplomatic:
[…]
of, relating to, or concerned with the art and practice of conducting negotiations between nations: of, relating to, or concerned with diplomacy or diplomats.
employing tact and conciliation especially in situations of stress
And for diplomacy:
the art and practice of conducting negotiations between nations
skill in handling affairs without arousing hostility: TACT
It’s worth noting that the first use of the word diplomacy dates to the 18th century (1766) and the concept itself is somewhat anachronistic to the pre-modern world of the “Silmarillion.” However, it’s not difficult to apply the spirit of an “art and practice of negotiations between nations” to First Age Beleriand. We’ll also consider the secondary definition of “tact.”
The Case for Maedhros the Diplomat
Let's look at some times that Maedhros practiced diplomacy and was diplomatic:
1. Waiving his claim to the kingship of the Noldor in favour of Fingolfin:
For Maedhros begged forgiveness for the desertion in Araman; and he waived his claim to kingship over all the Noldor, saying to Fingolfin: ‘If there lay no grievance between us, lord, still the kingship would rightly come to you, the eldest here of the house of Finwë, and not the least wise.’ The Silmarillion, “Of the Return of the Noldor”
Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes: resolving conflict by removing one’s own claim to a title.
Is it diplomatic? The dialogue seems pretty tactful — demonstrating deference, employing flattery and logic — and is definitely an improvement on Fëanor’s approach to the contested kingship!
2. Brother-wrangling
There are two significant instances of this in the Silmarillion:
resolving conflict
After an argument breaks out between Angrod and Caranthir over Angrod’s authority to act as messenger to Thingol, “Maedhros indeed rebuked Caranthir … But Maedhros restrained his brothers, and they departed from the council…" (“Of the Return of the Noldor”)
Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes: removing threats to peaceable relations between rulers.
Is it diplomatic? Since we don’t know exactly how Maedhros rebuked Caranthir and restrained his brothers, it’s hard to say how tactfully it was done. Maybe.
removing to the Eastern march
There Maedhros and his brothers kept watch, gathering all such people as would come to them, and they had few dealings with their kinsfolk westward, save at need. It is said indeed that Maedhros himself devised this plan, to lessen the chances of strife, and because he was very willing that the chief peril of assault should fall upon himself. The Silmarillion, “Of the Return of the Noldor”
Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes: again removing threats to peaceable relations between rulers. Also involves gathering followers. Notably, the strategy seems to have worked for as long as it lasted (that is, until Celegorm and Curufin found themselves in Nargothrond).
Is it diplomatic? Again, unclear how Maedhros executed this plan, but the narrator’s tone here is quite approving so it’s reasonable to assume that it was done tactfully.
3. Remaining on good terms with the other Princes of the Noldor
A few examples of this:
Continuing from the preceding passage, “he remained for his part in friendship with the houses of Fingolfin and Finarfin, and would come among them at times for common counsel.” (“Of the Noldor in Beleriand”)
Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes.
Is it diplomatic? Yes: extra diplomacy points for taking it upon himself to go to them.
He (with Maglor) attended Mereth Aderthad, the Feast of Reuniting. (“Of the Noldor in Beleriand”)
Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes, though showing up to the High King’s peace party seems like pretty bare minimum lordly behaviour, not exemplary diplomacy.
Is it diplomatic? We don’t know except through the absence of any evidence to the contrary. Since the Mereth Aderthad was overall a diplomatic success, it’s reasonable to assume Maedhros contributed to that success and stayed on his best behaviour.
He (with Maglor) goes hunting with Finrod. (“Of the Coming of Men into the West”)
Is this an instance of diplomacy? Sure: a leisurely hunting trip with the cousin whose kin you once killed (oops) is a good move.
Is it diplomatic? Again, lacking evidence to the contrary, reasonable to assume Maedhros behaved himself and the trip went off without conflict.
Remaining on good terms in particular with “Fingon, ever the friend of Maedhros” (“Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”). The anecdote about the history of the Dragon-helm (below), which has it pass from Maedhros to Fingon, additionally attests that these two “often exchanged tokens of friendship.”
Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes: in particular, the exchange of tokens of friendship between rulers.
Is it diplomatic? Unless we imagine Fingon was himself tactless (which is contradicted by what we’re told about him elsewhere) and their friendship was built around being mutually despicable (see: Celegorm and Curufin), fair to assume this was all done courteously.
4. Making alliances
with the Sindar
We know that many Sindar outside Doriath joined themselves to and followed the princes of the Noldor, presumably including the sons of Fëanor. (The Grey Annals §48 in The History of Middle-earth Vol. 11: The Wars of the Jewels, and elsewhere).
with the Dwarves
In the preparations for the Nirnaeth Arnoediad:
... Maedhros had the help of the Naugrim, both in armed force and in great store of weapons; and the smithies of Nogrod and Belegost were busy in those days. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”
Also, from the Narn i hîn Húrin in Unfinished Tales:
[The Dragon-helm of Dor-lómin] was given by Azaghâl to Maedhros, as guerdon for the saving of his life and treasure, when Azaghâl was waylaid by Orcs upon the Dwarf-road in East Beleriand.
Azaghâl then sacrifices himself and his people at the Nirnaeth, making the Fëanorian retreat possible.
with the Easterlings
But Maedhros, knowing the weakness of the Noldor and the Edain, whereas the pits of Angband seemed to hold store inexhaustible and ever-renewed, made alliance with these new-come Men, and gave his friendship to the greatest of their chieftains, Bor and Ulfang. And Morgoth was well content; for this was as he had designed. The sons of Bor were Borlad, Borlach, and Borthand; and they followed Maedhros and Maglor, and cheated the hope of Morgoth, and were faithful. The sons of Ulfang the Black were Ulfast, and Ulwarth, and Uldor the accursed; and they followed Caranthir and swore allegiance to him, and proved faithless. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”
the Union of Maedhros
Perhaps Maedhros' most-cited and most famous act of "diplomacy":
Yet Morgoth would destroy them all, one by one, if they could not again unite, and make new league and common council; and he began those counsels for the raising of the fortunes of the Eldar that are called the Union of Maedhros. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”
And [Maedhros] gathered together again all his brothers and all the people who would follow them; and the Men of Bor and Ulfang were marshalled and trained for war, and they summoned yet more of their kinsfolk out of the East. Moreover in the west Fingon, ever the friend of Maedhros, took counsel with Himring, and in Hithlum the Noldor and the Men of the house of Hador prepared for war. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”
Are these instances of diplomacy? Yes: protecting neighbours, gathering followers, establishing partnerships, forming alliances with other groups of peoples, and organising a major offensive on a common enemy.
Is it diplomatic? Again, absence to the contrary and general success suggests Maedhros conducted himself tactfully in all of these dealings. One thing: I have seen a tendency in fandom to credit superior leadership and diplomacy on the part of Maedhros and Maglor for the fact that their Easterling allies remain faithful while Caranthir’s do not. Maybe; but bear in mind that’s a deduction, not something the text explicitly states.
I am sure there are other tidbits here and there to support the diplomatic ability of Maedhros, but I think we have enough here to conclude the Maedhros the Diplomat is a fanon characterisation with support it in canon.
The Case against Maedhros the Diplomat
So Maedhros was a diplomat; but was Maedhros an exemplary diplomat, as the prominence of his characterisation as such would suggest, or just an average one? Let us look at some of Maedhros’ diplomatic failings.
1. hubris, attempted deception
Look: we can’t neglect that Maedhros is behind one of the most disastrous failures of diplomacy in the First Age — his attempt to parley with Morgoth that ends up getting him captured.
Though not in the published Silmarillion, in the 1937 Quenta Silmarillion, Fëanor with his dying breath tells his sons “never to treat or parley with their foe.” (§88). (Christopher Tolkien drew from a later text, the Grey Annals (1950s), for the account of the death of Fëanor in the published Silmarillion where this command does not exist.) I cannot help but laugh at the fact that following this exhortation Maedhros immediately turns around and attempts to parley with Morgoth and outwit him.
Perhaps diplomatic relations with Morgoth are impossible, but then why accept the offer to parley at all? And what’s up with trying to beat Morgoth at his own game (deceit)? Honestly, Maedhros. Not your best moment.
We can say that he learned from this, but it does put into question the idea that Maedhros’ diplomatic training and excellence go back to his Valinorean days.
2. disdain of and aloofness towards another ruler
We saw how Maedhros restrained his brothers in the council where Angrod brought news from Thingol, but what about how Maedhros himself behaved at that council?
Cold seemed its welcome to the Noldor, and the sons of Fëanor were angered at the words; but Maedhros laughed, saying: ‘A king is he that can hold his own, or else his title is vain. Thingol does but grant us lands where his power does not run. Indeed Doriath alone would be his realm this day, but for the coming of the Noldor. Therefore in Doriath let him reign, and be glad that he has the sons of Finwë for his neighbours, not the Orcs of Morgoth that we found. Elsewhere it shall go as seems good to us.’ The Silmarillion, “Of the Return of the Noldor”
Fandom loves the line and I can’t disagree that it’s an epic mic drop. But was this really the most diplomatic thing to say? In the Grey Annals, it is said that “the sons of Fëanor were ever unwilling to accept the overlordship of Thingol, and would ask for no leave where they might dwell or might pass.” (§48). (Interestingly, there does seem to have been a point, before word of the kinslaying at Alqualondë was out, that Thingol for his part was at least neutral on them, saying, “Of his sons I hear little to my pleasure; yet they are likely to prove the deadliest foes of our foe” (“Of the Noldor in Beleriand”)). Arriving at a new place and refusing to treat with the person who claims kingship of those lands — and apparently for no other reason besides disdain of that person’s ability as a ruler — doesn’t seem particularly diplomatic.
3. not supporting a superior's initiative
We saw evidence of Maedhros cooperating with the other princes of the Noldor, but that doesn't mean he threw his support behind them at every occasion to do so. When Fingolfin — supposedly, thanks for Maedhros, High King and his superior — tries to rally the Noldor to assault Angband, almost everyone was “little disposed to hearken to Fingolfin, and the sons of Fëanor at that time least of all.” (“Of the Ruin of Beleriand”).
This statement is frustratingly vague so I won’t speculate much besides to suggest that there could be something suspect — and undiplomatic — behind failing to support the initiative of the High King to whom you so graciously ceded your claim.
4. Oath-related diplomatic failures (kinslayings)
The extent to which the oath is to blame for events is a sticky issue and not the subject of this analysis, but since fulfilling the oath is essential to Maedhros’ character, it’s impossible to avoid it entirely.
The narrator of the Silmarillion is actually quite generous towards Maedhros when discussing the role of the oath in his failings, so it’s no surprise that many fans are likewise generous.
For example:
I quoted above the passage about Maedhros taking “the chief peril of assault” upon himself and remaining “for his part in friendship with the houses of Fingolfin and Finarfin,” and it is perhaps the strongest evidence for Maedhros’ diplomatic excellence. It also ends with the ominous words: “Yet he also was bound by the oath, though it slept now for a time.” (“Of the Return of the Noldor”)
And when the concept of the Union of Maedhros is introduced, we are told: “Yet the oath of Fëanor and the evil deeds that it had wrought did injury to the design of Maedhros, and he had less aid than should have been.” (“Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”).
Both of these passages remind us that the oath — a vow to vengeance — is in the long-term at cross-purposes with cooperation and diplomacy.
This becomes especially evident when a Silmaril ends up in the hands of those who should be allies: other elves.
For Maedhros and his brothers, being constrained by their oath, had before sent to Thingol and reminded him with haughty words of their claim, summoning him to yield the Silmaril, or become their enemy. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”
The narrator pins this failure of diplomacy on the oath. But, as Maglor will point out in his final moments with Maedhros, the oath does not state how and when they must fulfill it. Is it a mark of a good diplomat to use “haughty” words in making a request? And what about what follows Thingol’s refusal?
Therefore [Thingol] sent back the messengers with scornful words. Maedhros made no answer, for he had now begun to devise the league and union of the Elves; but Celegorm and Curufin vowed openly to slay Thingol and destroy his people, if they came victorious from war, and the jewel were not surrendered of free will. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”
What do you mean, “made no answer”? The narrator explains this away by saying essentially that Maedhros was too busy to bother, but is it the most diplomatic to just… stop communicating with the king who had the Silmaril, and whose support would really be quite nice to have in the upcoming war? And what about Celegorm and Curufin’s decidedly undiplomatic threat? Long gone are the days of effective brother-wrangling, apparently. (So far gone, in fact, that by the time Celegorm carries through on his threat and the sons of Feanor attack Doriath, Maedhros seems to have deferred to Celegorm’s leadership.)
The oath is again blamed for Maedhros’ change of course regarding the Silmaril at the Havens of Sirion. Having initially “withheld his hand”:
… the knowledge of their oath unfulfilled returned to torment [Maedhros] and his brothers, and gathering from their wandering hunting-paths they sent messages to the Havens of friendship and yet of stern demand. The Silmarillion, “Of the Voyage of Eärendil and the War of Wrath”
As with the “haughty words” to Thingol, was “stern demand” the most diplomatic approach? Would better diplomacy have made a difference? Well, maybe. I don’t think the discussion between Maedhros and Maglor was inserted into the narrative without thematic purpose — and one of those purposes is, I think, to reveal the slippery space of conflict between obligation and choice; between that which must be done and how it’s done; between the morality of keeping one’s word and the morality of doing the right thing.
Does the oath itself turn an otherwise mild and affable Maedhros into someone haughty and stern? Or are those flaws he already had and which are brought to the fore by the constraint of the oath? Well, examine the evidence for yourself — and allow the imagination to roam.
Final assessment: Maedhros is a good diplomat, certainly compared to his closest kinsmen. But just like Maedhros isn’t the tallest (no, really, he’s not — but that’s another excavation), he’s perhaps also not the best diplomat on the political stage of First Age Beleriand.
[1] If we go beyond the published Silmarillion to the “Shibboleth of Fëanor” (in History of Middle-earth Vol. 12: The Peoples of Middle-earth), we learn that he was a red-head and apparently “well-shaped.” For an author who is notoriously sparse with physical description, Tolkien did seem to have a lot of ideas about what Maedhros looked liked!
Addendum: Maedhros the Scholar
“Diplomat and Scholar” do seem to go hand-in-hand in the fandom’s most popular versions of Maedhros, but I focused on the former for this Ask because there really isn’t much in canon to directly support Maedhros’ skill as a scholar.
The Noldor, as a culture, are loremasters. Fëanor, Maedhros’ father, was one of the most notable of these loremasters, even credited with founding the school of Lambengolmor, Loremasters of Tongues ( in the essay Quendi and Eldar in The History of Middle-earth Vol. 11: The War of the Jewels).
But, when Tolkien gives examples of elven loremasters, who, he says, were also “the greatest kings, princes and warriors,” he names Fëanor, Finrod, the lords of Gondolin, and Orodreth. No mention of Maedhros. And, when discussing which sons of Fëanor took an interest in language, he mentions not the eldest, but Maglor and Curufin. (Both in The Shibboleth of Fëanor.)
So there’s nothing in canon to suggest that Maedhros wasn’t a scholarly type, but it’s not something he’s noted for. His most remarkable trait remains “tall”.
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