#and that is maglor's punishment

[superloves4]

For @leucisticpuffin awesome fic here!!

Hopefully the tumblr cruch will not ruin this! (Just Maedhros, Maglor, Elrond and Elros with no texture underneath)

#tried to make it look like paper #punished for my cat hubris #i can't draw animals at all #fairly sure I got the eye color wrong #I'm exactly the person they talk about when they say artist that can't draw old men #silmarillion #maglor #the silmarillion #feanorians #tolkien #silm #maedhros #elros #elros tar minyatur #elrond and elros #kidnap fam #my art #i just realized I forgot to color in Maglor glasses #ironically apt for Maglor

[anna-dreamer]

He said, "Son, when you grow up Would you be the savior of the broken The beaten and the damned?"

#silmarillion #silmarillion fanart #maglor #my chemical romance #the black parade #I think i saw a post somewhere associating this song with Maglor #and it stuck with me #i love him #my emotional support craven murder bard #all alone now #will punish himself more severely than anyone else could #anna draws

[nailsinmywall]

 maglor for Mayglor compilation part1: in Valinor 

(lots of maglors (uncle maglor!), some nelyos , a tiny tyelko, dad curufin and his little tyelpe)

#maglor #maedhros #Celegorm #tiny tyelko #punk ass bitch #yeah the two last ones are like.......the same #i drew both last year and only reworked them ok lol #i am having such a shit time figuring out how to best post them on tumblr Q_Q #anyways mayglor was lots of fun! 1st month long art challenge i ever completed #and first art challenge ever that didn't feel like a punishing chore two days in #mayglor 2k22 #silmart #silmarillion #curufin #celebrimbor

[theworldisquietheretooquiet]

An unhinged post about why Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers is the most Maglor coded song ever

The reason I made the connection in the first place was because of this great post! With what happens to Maedhros esp and all the murder, that 1st line is perfect.

The others just capture that vibe of quietly leaving everything behind. And no one answered because there's no one left to.

Ugh this bit always gets me the most!! Because it's all so tragically true for him! He could stay in Middle Earth and do anything. The world is his oyster, the oath is over. But it's too late for that.

And the last line. 😭😭. He could go home to Valinor!! Finally. After so long and believing he would never get to. He presumably would just have to go and hand himself in to Eonwë. It's the possibility he hasn't had for so long. But he simply can't.

Such great vibes of him setting off on his mournful wanderings. All the stuff about music here is perfect, 'so thoughts don't intrude' esp.

The last bit is obvs a little hard to relate directly, but it does suggest to me dwelling on his brothers or father. The bit about songs coming true massively makes me think of the Noldolantë. The Fall of the Noldor written before they then basically fall entirely. In some ways, a song coming true.

Perfect post first age sense of utter meaninglessness. Also the last line fits so well for how a lot of the rebelling Noldor probably felt in ME.

Ok so in order to make these lyrics even sorta fit I am linking them to kidnap fam era Maglor. Staring at Eärendil!star with Elros & Elrond vibes. And a very twisted 'all that pain and evil was worth it/worth living through cause I got to meet the twins' line of thinking.

Oof okay. So this entire last bit I am imagining as about Maedhros. Not because I believe Maglor is a pushover who got bullied by him into the kinslayings or anything along those lines. Just as representative of the total, utter devotion he has for him (mixed with a nice bit of Thangorodrim guilt 👀). And how, although he might push back or argue, Maglor will do whatever Maedhros wants in the end. Its just how they are...

Listen to the song guys!! (and let me know if you think I've lost my mind or not :)

#in honour of me swimming in the sea today! #maglor girlies you might have been on to something #RIP Tolkien you would have loved Punisher #maglor #silmarillion #phoebe bridgers #graceland #my post

[unluckystars]

ok so like. in feanor’s oath it says “To the everlasting Darkness doom us if our deed faileth.”

so feanor and the boys got thrown in the void yeah. but yk who else got thrown in the void?

Morgoth!!

i wonder if feanor and morgoth spend their time arguing with eachother because there is literally nothing else to do. maybe they play rock paper scissors on who the silmaril should go to

#c+c’s nonsense shenanigan train #and here we are // ooc #maglor’s void punishment is to have every instrument he plays be out of tune

[doodle-pops]

Think You Can Warm Me Up

[Elves and Cockwarming x reader]

Request: What elves do you think would like cock-warming? - anon

A/N: This was a lot of elves to think for since I've added more over the months gone by. Enjoy!!!

Warning: smut, cockwarming

More: Brat Taming

Loves it – sometimes when they’re too busy to have sex with you but you want to feel them, they’ll suggest you sit on their lap, only to feel them raising your body slightly to slide themselves into you. When you lift your hips to move, their hands will be planted firmly on your waist with a stern look on their faces warning you to stay still. They’ll keep their hands on your waist, using it to pull you closer to rest against their chest and hold you down. Some use it for punishment when your bratty side comes out. They’ll rile you up by making out with you, having you grind on them feeling as though you two are about to have sex, but then when you’re about to ride them, they’ll lean in to whisper, “Not so fast love, no moving, sit right there and stay still or I’ll leave you empty. You thought I’d just give in and give you what you wanted, my poor confused little one” Other times, they’d use it to literally warm themselves up. When you two are relaxing as such, they’d throw the suggestion out to you and once you agree, the two of you will just be lounging about with their cock buried in you, staying warm. There are times you’ve fallen asleep with them buried in you. “You feel so warm and tight love, stop shifting so much, just stay still. This feels good, now we can cuddle.”

MAEDHROS, Maglor, CELEBRIMBOR, FINGOLFIN, FINGON, Finarfin, FINROD, AEGNOR, GLORFINDEL, GALDOR, BELEG, Rog, Elrond

Hates it – the first time you suggest the act, they were down to try it, but once you sank your warm hole onto their cock, it was over for them. Their hands would immediately shoot out to grab your waist, urging you to move but you’ll simply push it away and lean into their chest informing them that you’re not supposed to move. “It’s called cockwarming for a reason. Now stay still. Don’t get mad, remember you agreed to this, so sit and enjoy it.” This was absolute torture for them, they couldn’t take it anymore. Knowing that if they moved their hips right then, you’d probably hop off and that wasn’t part of their plan. Waiting till you were settled in and comfortable, with ease, their hands would sneak around your waist holding you firmly to their chest and without any warning, begin thrusting into you. You’d admit that this was not how you planned the session to go but with the way the tip of their cock was brushing against your soft spot, your moans gave it away. Now whenever you suggest it to them, they’d smile at you saying that they’ll behave, only to abuse your heat as soon as you sink down on their cock. The longest they’ve ever lasted was five seconds. “If you really thought I’d sit through all that torture, you’re absolutely wrong. Now be a good girl/boy and enjoy my cock.”

FEANOR, CELEGORM, Curufin, Turgon, ARGON, ANGROD, EGALMOTH, ECTHELION, MAEGLIN, ELLADAN

Mixed feelings – one minute it’s torture for them the other it’s blissful. It just all depends on their mood not so much yours. If they’re tired and just want to be warmed or you want to feel them, they’d let you go ahead without interrupting you. They’d simply wrap their arms around you and pull you in closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead and drifting off to sleep. Other times it’s when they’re busy doing paperwork and could do with a little relief. Letting you sit on their lap with the table hiding their cock buried deep in your heat, they’d let you lean into them so they could continue their work. “This feels good, didn’t think I’d be needing this, but after I’m finished here, I’d bend you over this table for a good fuck, hmm.” When you’re teasing them all day and acting up and then decide it’s time to kick it up a notch by making them feel you were about to ride them after your tedious torture only to sit still on their cock, now you’re just asking for it. They’d be grinding their teeth the entire time when you tell them not to move while pretending to do something important, informing them that when you’re finished then you two can go at it, they’re not going to listen, not when you were suffocating their cock. They wouldn’t care at that point, so say goodbye to whatever it was that you were doing. “Don’t you think this is a little too much love, don’t you think this has gone on for too long because I think so as well. How about we change that by having me fuck you, now.”

Maedhros, MAGLOR, CARANTHIR, Amrod, Fingolfin, FINGON, TURGON, FINARFIN, Finrod, AEGNOR, Glorfindel, GALDOR, Egalmoth, ROG, ERESTOR

Masterlist

Taglist: @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @lilmelily

#reactions #silm smut #maedhros x reader #maglor x reader #celebrimbor x reader #fingolfin x reader #silmarillion x reader #fingon x reader #finarfin x reader #finrod x reader #aegnor x reader #glorfindel x reader #galdor x reader #rog x reader #elrond x reader #feanor x reader #celegorm x reader #caranthir x reader #curufin x reader #amras x reader #amrod x reader #turgon x reader #argon x reader #angrod x reader #ecthelion x reader #egalmoth x reader #erestor x reader #elladan x reader #maeglin x reader #doodlepops writings ✨

[ardafanonarch]

maybe a silly one: thoughts on crablor?

Crab-Lore

For those who have yet to encounter him, “Crablor” is a portmanteau of “Crab” and “Maglor”, i.e., the crab Maglor became after his many ages of wandering the shores in pain and regret. Crablor is fanon. It was born here.

As @faustandfurious wrote in that very post there is no canon about Maglor’s eventual fate. (You can read about the various ways Maglor ended, or didn’t, here).

But the idea of Elven crabification in general does have some basis in canon!

In his writings on Elven fading in Morgoth’s Ring, Tolkien talks about the fëa (spirit) consuming the hröa (body):

As ages passed the dominance of their fëar ever increased, 'consuming' their bodies (as has been noted). The end of this process is their 'fading', as Men have called it; for the body becomes at last, as it were, a mere memory held by the fëa; and that end has already been achieved in many regions of Middle-earth, so that the Elves are indeed deathless and may not be destroyed or changed. The History of Middle-earth Vol. 10: Morgoth’s Ring, The Later Quenta Silmarillion, ‘Laws B’ (p. 219)

This was not, however, Tolkien’s last thought on the matter. In a marginal note on the entry for hröa published in the linguistic journal Parmasan Eldalamberon (Vol. 12), Tolkien revisits the metaphysical implications of Elven fading:

What of a hröa that resists fading? It is not then consumed by the fëa, but compressed by the process of containing it; by which it will in time be overcome, though at great expense to the strength of the fëa, for this at last takes possession of the changed hröa as its ‘casement’.

What?

This note Tolkien clearly did not intend to be seen or interpreted by anyone but himself, and its meaning is rather opaque. What he seems to be describing, however, is a slow process of shrinking and shapeshifting, from body to “casement”, in cases where a hröa resists fading.

Casement as in… shell? As in… exoskeleton? Elves who resist fading become crabs?

Okay, so that probably wasn’t what Tolkien meant, but I can find nothing to contradict it. Let us assume, for our amusement, that the hröa - casement transformation is, or can be, into a crab.

The next question is: Might Maglor have resisted fading?

If one imagines his fate in the published Silmarillion as self-punitive (a reading supported by the alternate versions in which he does in fact commit suicide like Maedhros), it would makes sense that he might resist fading as a sort of release from his punishment. Or perhaps the metaphysics of the Oath had some interference in his ability to fade in the usual fashion.

In which case, Maglor may very well have been one of the Elves who became a crab. Or something like it.

ETA: Happy April Fool's.

#crablor #maglor #elven fading #history of middle-earth #parmasan eldalamberon #happy april 1

[leucisticpuffin]

This beach belongs to a seal colony; wary of disturbing them, Maglor climbs the rugged cliffs of the headland. Slim chance of finding a good place to settle down for the night here - the ground is rocky and the wind punishing, strong enough to steal the voice even of the Noldor's greatest singer.

He won't sleep, anyway. The pain in his burnt hand lingers, though the wound itself closed up some time ago. (He still keeps it bandaged, so he does not have to look at the mark the Silmaril left behind.) Tonight it flares bright as the myriad stars over the headland. The stars are almost beautiful enough to make up for Maglor's sleeplessness. Perhaps this is why his brother so often took the night watch, in long-ago Himring.

The wind is just as cold.

More of Maglor's Second Age wanderings. Based on a photograph of Flamborough Head in Yorkshire.

#i am incapable of painting coastal landscapes without putting maglor in them #this one comes with writing because i couldn't help myself #maglor #beach hermit maglor #landscape art #landscape #silmarillion #silm art #silm fanart #silmarillion fanart #tolkien fanart #tolkien

[bretwalda-lamnguin]

I like Maedhros as a character, but I admit the usual fandom portrayal of him does nothing for me. I don't see him as a particularly 'nice' person. He can be manipulative, ruthless and harsh. I think he tries to play the clever pragmatist, but he gets it deeply wrong, and I think the oath is largely to blame.

Maedhros has two clear goals, although to him, at first at least, they are one and the same. Defeat Morgoth, and regain the silmarils, fulfilling the oath. Everything he does is in service of one of these goals, but once Doriath gains a silmaril the two goals seem to become contradictory.

A lot of Maedhros’ early actions in Beleriand make sense through this lens. When he suggests sending the ships back, he names Fingon as the first that should be taken. Not only a close friend (or romantic partner) but by now a fellow kinslayer-his loyalty is more assured because they have spilled blood together. He stands aside because the burning of the ships is a spiteful act with no aim, whereas the far morally worse first kinslaying had a logical goal at least.  

Civil war contradicts Maedhros’ goal-his aim is to defeat Morgoth and get the silmarils, not be high king, so he willingly steps aside for Fingolfin. Likewise, Thingol is not his enemy yet, so he laughs off his scorn. He has what he wants, the lands and resources to make war on Morgoth. Doriath is of little concern to him, and if Finrod can bring them into the alliance, all the better.

The quest for the silmaril breaks this unity of purpose. Celegorm and Curufin, driven by the Oath, overthrow Finrod and kidnap Lúthien. Maedhros cannot complain overmuch, he does not want the silmaril in other hands. Finrod and Lúthien had become rival claimants for the jewel and were thus enemies. He cannot punish his brothers. His failure to do so however permanently alienates Nargothrond and Doriath, with Maedhros’ letter to the latter being the final nail. It is at best deeply foolish and at worst blackmail. Lúthien’s quest may have given Maedhros hope Morgoth can be defeated, but he does not rebuke Celegorm calling for Doriath’s destruction.

I think this may also be behind his and his brother’s failure to see through Ulfang and his son’s treachery. By this point, the Fëanorians see desire for the silmarils as the main source of treachery. Ulfang and his sons have no desire for the silmarils, so they must be loyal. They fail to see that they might desire other things and be loyal to Morgoth for completely different reasons.

Maedhros is so devoted to one singular goal, and ruthless in his pursuit of it that he fails to see it has become two contradictory goals, to his ruin. By the end his attempts to regain the silmaril are actively helping Morgoth. I also think that he does treat others, including Fingon and Maglor, as pawns in his game. I do think of him as somewhat manipulative, even though I also think he very deeply loves Fingon and Maglor. Fingon’s love saves him from Thangorodrim and by the end he is completely dependent on Maglor. He drags them down into ruin all the same.  

#maedhros #the oath is central to his tragedy #that muddles his motivations #which leads to his fate #he's clever and capable #and a very good war leader #but his fundamental goals are so flawed none of it matters #his strategy will always fail #and that feeds back to the oath #silmarillion #my posts

[eccentricmya]

I had this sudden thought... What if the bits about kidnap fam in the silm were added because Elrond is actually delusional and desperate for parental love?

Nobody found the twins in the cave. They grew into this feral eldritch abomination, cut off from civilization and given up for dead by everyone. During the war of wrath, they stumble out of their nomadic dwelling and are discovered by the host of Aman. They are told of the third kinslaying (after they learn spoken language, since they communicated mostly through images and feelings sent via osanwe) and the fate of their kinsmen and ultimately, taken under Gil-Galad's wing.

Years later, when Elros has chosen to masquerade as a normal mannish creature and swanned off to his island, Elrond encounters a wandering Maglor. He recognises the lament he sings, the Noldolantë, and the ruined hand he connects to the Thieves of the Silmaril he was told about. Elrond is tempted to punish this kinslayer for all the grief he has caused him, but pity stays his hand. They spend some months together, Elrond trying to bring back Maglor to his right mind. But the Noldo speaks of nothing but his overwhelming guilt — for the ones he killed, for the ones he orphaned, and for the brothers he could not follow in death. Elrond feels like they are kindred spirits, forsaken by their family, doomed to a lonely existence.

Yet one winter eve, Maglor disappears in the dead of the night. Leaving behind a song of apology whose notes linger in the air long after he is gone.

Elrond is devastated. He cannot survive another leaving him. So he builds this fantasy in his head. Where he and Elros were found by Maglor in their little cave, years ago when they still wished to be found. And Maglor would take the twins with him to Maedhros, the brother whom Maglor loved like Elrond loves Elros, yet still lost to death, just like Elrond would lose his own. The four would dwell together for long years to come and love would grow between them.

And this fantasy is what history recorded. So that Elrond and Elros would grow up loved, and Maglor would still have family on the shores he wandered.

#kidnap fam #maglor #elrond #history is written by the victors #and elrond is a victor since he survived every shit imaginable #silm thoughts #fic ideas #JustBizarre

[maeofthenoldor]

I want to see the Feanorians in random parts of history. Like when Persian King Xerxes punishes the sea by whipping it 300 times for ruining his bridge. Its so Feanor coded. Or watching as a con man sell the Eiffel tower twice and got away with it. I want to imagine Feanor and his sons posing in the background of Ceasers Assassination. Celegorm would ride an elephant into Britain with Claudia's invasion. Maedhros in on the Trojan horse which Feanor made the schematics for. Maglor singing for Cleopatra. Amrod and Amras fighting in the coliseum. They would cause so much chaos and I would be a fun game to try find them in historical paintings and photos.

#silmarillion #silm #tolkien #shitpost #feanorians #feanor #celegorm #maedhros #maglor #ambarussa #amrod #amrod and amras

[the-elusive-soleil]

Instructions

Maglor sat the children down in front of him, then bit his lip, unsure of where to begin. 

He didn't want to have this conversation at all, but it had to happen. The other night, Maedhros had...slipped again, been dangerous; it was nothing that Maglor couldn't handle, but the same wouldn't necessarily be true of anyone else. Particularly not of the peredhil, and if anything were to befall them, Maedhros would never forgive himself.

“You remember,” he said slowly, “that I once told you to always listen to me and Maedhros, and trust us, because your safety could depend on it?”

Elros and Elrond nodded, looking uncertain as to where this is going.

Maglor took a deep breath. “You need to know that there are times when that...may not be true. When your safety will depend on not listening to us, on disobeying us, even. You should not have to make that distinction--I do not want to have to burden you with this--but I want even less for you to be put in harm’s way because I failed to speak about this.”

Elrond pursed his lips. Elros frowned, head tilted. “How will we know the difference?” he asked. “Between when to listen and when not to?”

Maglor bowed his head. “If we are ever trying to hurt you, or cause you distress, either because we are...not ourselves or because of the Oath,” he said. “You must stop us, then, however you have to.”

“You wouldn’t,” Elrond insisted. “Whatever happened, you’d never do anything to hurt us.”

Given the circumstances under which they’d ended up in his custody, Maglor found that statement ironic enough to be laughable, if he’d been in any mood to laugh. Instead, he just shook his head. “I would rather have the assurance, all the same,” he said. “Promise me that you will do this. Please.”

The twins exchanged looks.

“We promise, Atya.”

***

“Elrond, what are you doing here?”

Maglor couldn’t help but stare. He’d successfully avoided his one surviving son former kidnapee for two Ages, or thought he had, and had only let his guard down at all because he’d thought Elrond was on his way to the Grey Havens. Apparently, he’d been mistaken, because Elrond was right there, standing in the middle of the woods with him, a look that might have been fond exasperation on his face. 

“Coming after you, of course,” Elrond said, folding his arms. “I am set to sail West soon, with several of my household and some others, and I have come to make sure you go with me.”

“I am not meant to sail,” Maglor said, shaking his head, “and my presence would do you no good, here or across the Sea."

"I beg to differ."

"You are too kind." Maglor took a step back, then another. "Let me alone, and do not worry for me. This exile is no more than I deserve."

Elrond's voice was oddly calm. "And what of what I deserve? What your family in Aman deserves?"

Maglor bowed his head. "I am no longer the person whose return they wish for," he said, "and you ought to have the chance to know your true parents without my shadow over everything."

He turned to walk away, but found himself arrested by Elrond's hand on his arm. "I won't let you, Atya," he said firmly. "You are coming West with me, and if you hate me for it, we can work through it on the way." With a raised eyebrow, he added, "This is what you told me to do in such a situation, after all. If you wished me to leave you to fade in self-punishment, you should not have made me promise to stop you from causing me distress."

Maglor did not quite see the connection there, but in the next moment, Elrond sang out a cascade of familiar notes, meant to send someone into unconsciousness, and he was forced to put the question aside for later.

#silmarillion #maglor #elrond #elros #kidnap fam #soleil writes things #refracted (fanfiction) #brought to you by me reading a fic where the characters did the opposite of this #and left maglor behind to fade because he said so #it made me disappointed so there had to be Words

[annoyinglandmagazine]

Maedhros is ridiculously overprotective

During their childhood if any of the siblings were getting bothered by someone and they yelled for Nelyo he would drop everything and come running immediately. One time at a family gathering Curvo had started a fight with Argon and was losing. Badly. He hadn’t even gotten to the start of the second syllable and Maedhros was pulling them off each other with a first aid kit. He had been at the other side of the house in the middle of a conversation. Curvo hadn’t even yelled that loudly.

One time he found out Kano was being picked on. He was the equivalent of 15 and Maglor was like 12. He found Maglor crying after some 16 year olds had ripped up some of his music sheets. That was the first time Maedhros ever held a sword to someone’s throat. He had to be pulled off by three guards and no one could believe it because he was meant to be the well behaved sibling. When Feanor found out he was ridiculously proud and told Nelyo as much. Nerdanel glared at him disapprovingly but secretly agreed.

I firmly believe that even the whole way through the first age any of the brothers just needs to send one vague letter saying they might be in a bit trouble. Maedhros will be diverting the majority of his army to track them down wherever they are and make sure they’re ok. If Aredhel was Maedhros’ sibling Eol would have been found in a week and would be begging to be killed by the end of the week.

Anytime any of the Sinda diplomats get too aggressive towards Tyelko and Curvo about certain things Nelyo will make it clear that, yes, what they did was wrong and he’s aware they’re adults who made their own choices. But. They are also his little baby brothers so would you be so kind as to take a step back before he does something he most certainly would not regret. Everyone thinks Maedhros is scary enough to negotiate with on political matters. But that’s nothing compared to dealing with Protective Older Brother Maedhros.

Maedhros was very angry about the Angrod incident. He yelled at Caranthir for about half an hour. Moryo had apologised as soon as he’d seen Nelyo’s face but Maedhros still felt as if he couldn’t let his brother off so easily over something like this. He looked down at Caranthir’s face while he was in the middle of it and then he just stopped. Because that’s Moryo. This isn’t some general who went against his orders, that’s his baby brother and he looks like he’s about to cry. And he just hugs him. He knows it’s not even remotely the right thing to do, he can’t just not punish his brothers after they jeopardise relations with their allies. But damn it, he just can’t cope with any of his siblings look at him like that.

Maedhros loves his siblings a lot ok? Is this sort of about Maedhros losing the older sibling poll? Maybe.

#Silmarillion #tolkien #maedhros #feanorians #maglor #curufin #celegorm #caranthir #feanor #nerdanel #sons of feanor

[that-angry-noldo]

wrong all over

T || Maedhros || 1k || ao3 || @thelordofgifs || (cw: implied torture, violence)

"Káno," Maitimo says, voice croaking.

Káno shifts at his side, and looks at Maitimo curiously.

Maitimo stirs and winces at the soreness of his body. The bed is flat; he feels cold. The room is bright. Káno turns away, and for a second Maitimo fears that he mistook for his brother someone else entirely.

His throat is dry, and his bones ache.

"Káno," he tries again.

"Be still, little jewel," Káno says, still not looking at him.

Maitimo never says no to his brother. He closes his eyes obediently, and leans into the touch when Káno's hand caresses his hair.

...

Maedhros wakes up slow, and though it was a long time, he still lacks the confidence in telling reality and the fruit of his mind apart.

The curtains are draped. He stares at them, trying to guess the time; tries to decide if it will be fit for him to go back to sleep, or if another day has already begun.

Candlelight flickers in the corner of the room. Maedhros' eyes travel down the wall. He sees a figure hunched in an armchair, hair unbound, parchments spread around him.

Maedhros does not move when he recognizes the figure as Maglor.

...

Maitimo's body hurts, so much he wants to weep. At least Káno is petting his hair, his fingers cold—Maitimo wishes to take Káno's hand and press it to his cheek, keep it there for eternity. Káno hears his thought; his touch is gentle as if he were tracing the outlines of his favourite harp.

"Káno," Maitimo sobs. "Káno, I hurt do much. Can you sing for me?"

He is not worth singing for; but it is Káno, Káno who loves him.

Káno laughs, a dangling and splitting sound. "I do not sing, jewel," he says. "Hurt a little more."

...

Wind howls outside.

Maglor's hair is dark, and he sighs something under his breath, brow furrowed in concentration. Maedhros flinches. How melodic that sigh is; how soft, how bright.

He hates it, when Maglor speaks, when Maglor sighs, when Maglor makes any noise at all. It makes his memory clash and his skin crawl, makes terror rise within his chest, disgust stick to him like a foul substance.

Maglor's eyes flicker when he hears movement. He looks at Maedhros, smiles weakly.

His smile feels wrong, his eyes are unwell. Maedhros falls still.

Resistance is useless. Lieutenant never allows it anyway.

...

"Káno," Maitimo sobs, and clasps Káno's hand. "Káno, I'm so tired."

Káno sighs. Maitimo flinches; he knows he overstepped, but—it is Káno, Káno who loves him. Káno raises his hand, and Maitimo is sure it will strike him. It would be deserved—Maitimo deserves punishment—but the thought of it makes Maitimo weep, makes him press his hands to his mouth to try and stifle his sobs.

Káno sighs.

"You are disgusting," he says. He takes Maitimo's chin between his fingers, burns away Maitimo's tears. "Be quiet; I cannot bear to see you so undone."

"Káno," Maitimo sobs, "Káno."

...

"Nelyo," Maglor says. "You should go back to sleep."

Maedhros' sleep is haunted by past terror; he only dreams of endless mazes or dark corridors, burning fires, crooked shadows.

Maedhros looks at the thing wearing Maglor's skin, and expects it to fall apart.

Maglor stands up. He looks tired; Maedhros almost pities him.

He turns his head—Lieutenant always wants Maedhros to face him. Maglor sits on the chair near his bed. Maedhros closes his eyes.

Something bitter fills his chest; something much like hopelessness and despair.

"Káno," he says, voice barely a whisper. "Will you sing for me, dearest?"

...

"Káno," Maitimo whispers. "You are so cold."

Káno hums, not paying much attention. Maitimo's head is in Káno's lap; Káno plays with his hair. Maitimo shudders, presses closer.

"You are so far away," he whispers. "You should be closer to me."

"You are testing my patience, jewel," Káno says, tugging at his hair sharply. "Don't make me have to put you in place."

"You hate me," Maitimo sobs, and yelps when Káno strikes him, throws him out of the bed.

He curls up on the floor, sobbing. He made Káno hate him, and there is nothing now he can do.

...

To Maedhros' surprise, Maglor sings.

It almost puts him at ease. Maglor brings his harp; Maglor starts an old tune, which makes Maedhros' think of stars. His voice rolls quietly. The meaning of the words slips past Maedhros, but he thinks they must be beautiful.

He looks at Maglor. The flicker of the candle confuses him; Maglor's fingers change, his hair reddens, his eyes grow golden.

Maedhros shuts his eyes, grits his teeth. It hurts, hurts so much. Maybe he is dreaming still; maybe he will not see Lieutenants face again.

Káno sings, and Maedhros' eyes are wet with tears.

...

Káno hates him; still he allows Maitimo to sit at his feet.

Maitimo knows not whether it is mercy; whether he finds it a comfort, that Káno is still willing to see him. Maitimo does not deserve it; Maitimo deserves a cage, to be left to his misery.

There is a voice in his head, familiar and fresh like clean water is fresh, that tells him it is not so. Maitimo knows it is wrong, for the only kindness he deserves is pain and punishment, and Káno understands it well.

He sits at Káno's feet, and makes himself feel grateful.

...

"Nelyo," Káno says, "Nelyo."

Maedhros' head is in his lap, head cradled in his hands. Maedhros clings to him, despite himself, despite his tears, despite sobs tearing themselves from his throat. He is a wounded animal; a dying beast, and if Káno has any mercy he will bring a knife to his throat.

Or maybe Maedhros will bring both of them down, clawing at Maglor until the end; maybe the knife will go through both of their hearts; maybe they shall face darkness together, drown together, burn together.

"Nelyo," Káno calls, "Nelyo,"—and then he sings.

Maedhros falls, falls, falls.

#silmarillion #silm fic #maedhros #sauron #maglor

[aurorapillar]

You know while there is delightful angst in sad beach cryptid Maglor who wanders the shores singing his regrets to the seas, I feel like I much prefer the idea of sad but bitter Maglor who has not removed himself as far from the narrative as we were told A Maglor who maybe did whole wandering the shores thing for a while, but then one day woke up and thought "What am I doing?" because yeah he regrets making the Oath and he regrets the blood spilled over the Simarills because they were not worth it, and he has repented of it, but wallowing in his grief is doing no one any good. At best it's maybe making the Valar happy to see him suffering But why should he want to make the Valar happy? Because yeah, he has regrets about some things, but the choice to actually leave Valinor and go against Morgoth? He doesn't regret that. Because he doesn't think it was wrong. The Valar were the ones who were wrong. They were the ones who let Melkor free and then did not keep an eye on him. They were the ones who when he once again started doing horrible things, when he killed Finwe and stole the Simarills, sat back and did nothing. They didn't even offer apologies or make promises that they would do anything. And when Feanor called them out for it, they got mad at him. They were the ones who pronounced doom on the Noldor for the first kinslaying (if it really was about the kinslaying even, isn't it suspicious how Fingolfin and Finarfin and their groups who did no kinslaying both had the doom put on them as well, that only Finarfin who turned back escaped it. That no other race ever got doomed for kinslaying. Makes you wonder if it really was punishment for kinslaying, and not actually punishment for daring to leave the gilded cage that was Valinor) They were the ones who because of the doom they pronounced upon the Noldor, abandoned all of Middle Earth to Morgoth. Not just the Noldor, all the other elves and dwarves and humans who lived there as well. They were the ones who had to be bribed with a Simarillon before they would come help. Who then proceeded to retrieve the other two simarillon and deny them to their creators sons because 'they had no right to them' Maglor fully acknowledge and regrets the wrong he's done, but he's not going to pander to and try and please those who won't do the same in regards to their own wrong doing. He won't forget his sins, and he may still sing of regrets at times, but he's not going to be like the Valar and sit back doing nothing anymore. He'll travel, he fight orcs and protect people, he'll maybe seek out his son (or sons if it's before Elros death) and guard the family he has left and he will tell not only of his own wrong doings but those of the valar as well. He may be sad and traumatized, but he's not giving up.

#maglor #listen i don't think the valar are evil #but i do think they were petty prideful and incompetent #and they were in the wrong

[searchingforserendipity25]

something something maglor and maedhros being burned by the silmarils as equivalent to the divine judgement they might have faced in valinor (but with zero of the amelioration surrender might bring).

something something maedhros' torment under varda's hallowing being too much like morgoth's torture. being under the punishing power of one valar is not so different, in the end; the despair is very alike, and all the more final.

maglor lingering on and on in a state of celestial horror: closing his eyes and seeing the great expanses of the starkindler's dominion, darkness and numberless lights, and the burning fire of the heavenly bodies turned against him in loathing and revulsion.

on him is a sentient judgement that does not wane. older than the world, the oldest justice beyond the circles of the world. starlight burns him at night worse than the scorching sun at midday; and nothing can ever heal the wounds of the silmaril.

he clings to the laments and the regret, and repeats the same songs, with the same exact words, lest the terror of the hallowing on unworthy flesh and unworthy spirit claim him entirely.

he clings to the story of his life, which is the cause for his pain, and the only thing that keeps him from being swallowed entirely but the great expanses of the heavens, the tremendous heights that pried open his mind and revealed the filth of his self without ornamentation or ambiguity, and do not relent. truth, absolute and immense and foul - and in the end, the despair is very bad.

the eldar are not made for absolute truth. the eldar are made to sing, and wander, and -- not this.

maglor sings, and wanders as he sings. he loses words. names, verses, speech, the thing for which the elegy is sung, until only the voice remains, very like the sea. not all the solemn and linear and familiar songs of the eldar can stand forever as a shield between the hugeness of the starlit skies, and neither the sea nor the heavens care about his regret.

he does regret. he must. all that is left of his own history, in the great vastness of nebulas and suns that lingers always beneath his lids. his hands hurt constantly, and the flesh beneath his skin breaks and steams sometimes as if it were old wood with hidden embers. the bones themselves blackened, warming him always with a fever like the moment of epiphany at the end of a long fast.

if only he had not yielded to maedhros' will! but then, that is only another illusion so swiftly burned away as a veil of mist in the morrow at the touch of the silmaril. the jewels would never be given to those who had slain the blood of the kindred, were they the best behaved and most patient of penitents.

no unholy creature would be suffered to touch any hallowed thing, in valinor. even the valar were not so cruel. maglor yielded, and yielded, and yielded; he can only regret it, and never enough, though all the unbearable loveliness of the midnight sky be set to consume him with righteous wrath.

he does not return among elvenkind. maedhros is dead, and carcaroth is dead, and morgoth is cast out. there is not much left in arda that shares great kinship with the thing he is; and that, he knows - for the stars are keen and absolute teachers, judges with no pity - is a righteous and holy thing.

#maglor #maedhros #varda #the silm #have been beset by maglor brainrot (more than usual) but am too tired to make a decent post (life is indeed cruel) #but the cosmological horror of the burning by the silmarils is so so interesting