#daddy issues maedhros

[musingsinmiddleearth]

In the Annals of Aman as published in Morgoth's Ring it is said that Fëanor was in truth exceedingly the more filled with "insane pride and fury" during the burning at Losgar than is presented in the Quenta Silmarillion.

It explains Maedhros' choice of inaction. Not merely was it the obeying of his father to whom he is loyal, but also the fear of a son before a raging father. The fear of one who, though adult, feels as if aged only five in the face of their father, whose fury has sent him to red-flush and speak-spittle, and hasty action. Fëanor must have been terrifying.

It's little wonder Maedhros could only step back in the face of... that. Especially when his six siblings joined his father in their recklessness and fire of wrath.

[musingsinmiddleearth]

A Maedhros who watched his father call the friend he loved needless baggage.

A Maedhros whose father, according to authorial commentary by Tolkien, was not merely scornful and overproud in the moments leading up to the ship-burning, but was in fact explosively wrathful and maniacally driven.

A Maedhros who alone of his siblings was not caught away in the heady high of chaos and abandonment.

A Maedhros, by all accounts the most reflective and internal of the sons of Fëanor, who was grieving and fearing and probably entirely overwhelmed in that moment and the moments after.

Maedhros was a victim of his father. If the ship-burning alone had been the only time he saw Fëanor in that state, that alone still would’ve been traumatising. But it was not the only time; not even close.

Having Thoughts about a Maedhros who sailed with his father with the assumption they were returning for the rest of the hosts and then realizing they weren't and then the ships were on fire and all he could think about was Fingon on the other shore

[esteemedbastard]

Shut up I'm not building an Elden Ring/Silmarillion fanfic where Maedhros is reborn as Messmer (or vice versa) and tries to fight the narrative.

[smallfiend]

maedhros, my silly rabbit <3

[imfromthemiddlekingdom]

Oh god what was wrong with my brain😭 was scrolling through some of the old fanfics I’ve written on douban and found one here apparently I made all of Nolofinwé’s children the children of him and Maitimo??? What was wrong with my brain😭 read through it and I guess I wanted maximum angst with the fact that he couldn’t claim any of his children but his eldest still came and rescued him but he lost his youngest at the same time lmao. 2017 me was on some shit and not all of them good.

[mamwieleimion]

Ah yes. Let's see him shepherd the Fëanorians around and then let's imagine he gets the hobbits to help him with it.

I really need Gandalf to shepherd First Age Elves around like he shepherds Thorin’s Company and The Fellowship. I just think it would be funny.

[stitcherofchaos]

Kidnap Fam vs Earendil and Elwing controversy: Regarding the twins

Maybe I’m too practical-minded, but I see a lot of people either supporting or exaggerating kidnap fam, hating it with all their being, or ignoring the whole ‘love grew between them’ to translate into ‘emotional manipulation, hatred, resentment… etc (being anti-canon)’. I’ll respect opinions, frankly, I really could care less about them, but it does get irritating when people throw canon away for the drama (I certainly get annoyed when extreme pro-kidnap fams fans make it all sunshine and rainbows as if it wasn’t a difficult time or situation).

By the way, I can and will say that the twins can feel emotions, they are allowed to do that. Resentment and love can exist at the same time (for only a period of time) but one or the other must fade in order for the other the linger. One has to be consumed in order for the other to burn.

But just a thought, Elrond and Elros could love all of their parents equally, no more, no less than the others. One became a healer and the other, a king, I think they came to understand their foster father(s) and their bio-parents’ decisions.

(Ay maybe I just suck at emotions and all this feelings stuff and have no idea what I’m tolkien about)

And I’m not trying to call out or bash anyone!

I saw (and wanted to share) the quote,

“if your anger burns the furnace in your soul your whole life, you will be forever cold in the grave.”(I’m paraphrasing, I can’t remember the exact quote)

I cannot imagine Elrond or Elros being resentful to the point were they are vicious or unforgiving, whether it was towards Elwing, Eärendil, Maglor, or Maedhros (I really don’t think he was involved too much but if you swing that way).

I don’t want Elros to be cold in his grave, and I certainly don’t want Elrond's fëa to be burning for the rest of his immortal life.

Then I also had the thought, 'if the Fëanorians had never committed the third, worst, kinslaying, then Elwing would have never flown the Silmaril to her husband and they would have never gotten the help of the Valar.'

I personally headcanon that it was Eru’s work at hand to have Maglor raise Elrond and Elros. Think about it, what if they were spoiled in an alternate universe? What if something worse had happened to the twins? What if? What if?

What if they didn't become who they were meant to be if it wasn't for who they were raised by?

By the way, I read LOTR, I know Elrond refers to Eärendil publicly as his father and he makes no mention of Maglor. I analyzed this in three ways. 1.) Elrond must keep (the memory of) Maglor closed off, locked in his heart rather than talking about him more. 2.) It would've caused drama in his realm and in the counsel. 3.) Elrond really doesn't care, his father is his father, that's it. Zip. Maglor raised him, but Maglor is gone now. In a way, Eärendil is more present than Maglor in Elrond's life by the third age. Elrond can physically see the star, but he can't see Maglor.

I see it in the third way mostly. Eärendil is Elrond father, biologically, so why would he do this "My 'real' father" BS? It just seems like a waste of time. Tolkien probably didn't want to confuse anyone since the Silmarillion couldn't be published with LOTR.

Remind me of that quote from Yondu, "He may have been your father, boy, but he wasn't your daddy." But I really didn't want to refer to that quote considering Peter and Yondu's relationship is not the best example to compare this cluster of daddy issues to. Nevertheless, there is a point to be made in that statement. There is a difference between relation in regard to Nature vs Nurture, and the effects of it.

I guess the whole point of this post is, the fandom tends to take canon lore to the extreme or over analyze things to the point where they're just projecting. Trust me, I've been there, done that. I've learned my lesson (I think) and I wanted to share what I've learned.

Also (this is purely opinion) I don’t think Maglor was manipulative about anything, in the book, he just didn’t come off that way, for as little as he appeared, he actually seemed to be pretty optimistic (*regarding Eärendil) and honest (*the debate with Maedhros). He didn’t try to excuse himself or get the twins to pity him. Maglor raising the twins was out of pity/mercy, yes, but love grew (like what Tolkien said). He probably educated them on the facts and encouraged them to form their own opinions, whether that costed him their love or not. Maglor did have the more accurate moral compass compared to his brothers (in the end of the book!- Put down your pitchforks Maedhros stans!), especially if he knew that the Silmaril was better beyond their reach than where the enemy can also reach it. It was an accurate moral compass, although not a big one.

Argue, agree or disagree, or discuss with me! I want to hear different perspectives or opinions on this matter.

[clayvedevs]

Tennis players as Fëanorians (atp edition)

Fëanor: mr octopus himself, daniil medvedev. He gives off mad, doomed genius vibes. Haunts the narrative (ao 22, ao 24)

Maedhros: immediately my mind goes to jannik sinner for tall, redhead reasons

Maglor: grigor dimitrov. He's in a boyband, 1 handed backhand boys, enough said. Also balding (from stress), bisexual, bulgarian is such a maglor vibe.

Celegorm: denis shapovalov. Tall, blonde, should get a modelling contract apparently. I'm sure denis can talk to animals if he tried

Caranthir: i'm leaning towards andrey rublev for mr "quickest to anger". Red faced, red head, same thing

Curufin: stefanos "daddy issues" tsitsipas

Ambarussa:

[octaviangrey]

The ideal line up in my head for peak weird relationships (ignoring the math and canon entirely) is:

Fingolfin by 2 weeks at most. He was born early when everyone expected Maedhros to be born first. Feanor refuses to change the name he already picked out. Drama.

Maedhros - see above.

Maglor through to Curufin. Lalwen is born sometime within here if you include her in the family tree.

Finarfin - which then means, even if you include Findis and Lalwen, that Feanor would be the more experienced parent by this point.

Ambarussa - have last finwe as a name because Feanor never wants to deal with Finwe coming to him for parenting advice again.

I just realized that depending on what you do with the timeline, you could conceivably have a world where by the time, say, Finarfin is born, Finwe could go to Feanor for advice in childrearing because Feanor has more experience as a father. I don't think he would, but it's possible, and it's breaking my brain

[musingsinmiddleearth]

There is an obligatory TW here as this post discusses the emotions and circumstances involved in the suicide of Maedhros the Tall.

I sometimes think about what was going through the mind of Maedhros when he was falling into that chasm of the earth.

I think of him as the softest of the sons of Fëanor. He cared about his friends and his family - cared about people, empathised and felt the pain of others next to the pain of his own. I think the oath he and his brothers took affected him the most severely; I think each brutality he enacted in its name ate at him, ate at his conscience, made him feel lesser in every way - lesser of love, less of worth, less of goodness or wholeness. I think Maedhros saw the anger of his father festering in his eyes, and that he saw he grew his hair long so that the redness that passed from his mother's side could tell him he wasn't just become his father's monster.

All that, he did for the Silmarils. That was Maedhros' sacrifice - himself, in terms of personhood and conscience, that he might win back for his house what was taken.

And then the Silmarils scorned him. Burnt his hand - his only remaining hand. Maedhros had lost so much already, and it was all for nothing (or nothing as it would have seemed to him in that moment). His efforts had serviced a goal that had rebuked him, completely and totally.

To him, holding the Silmaril in his scorching palm, he would have had complete evidence of his own worthlessness. That he felt he had destroyed himself, or the parts of himself that were any kind of valuable, and what pieces of him remained were eclipsed by the weight of his suffering and failure. In Maedhros' final moments, he would have remembered the angry words of his father at Losgar, calling all those who failed Fëanor in his pursuit of the Silmarils needless baggage - and now it seemed that extended to Maedhros too.

And as Maedhros fell to his final recourse and to his death, I say he would have remembered the face of Fingon when he hung from the cliffs of Thangorodrim, and whispered an apology - an apology that he had spent and destroyed the second chance his friend had risked life and limb for.

[usedtobethelegendcreator]

The Silmarillion x Beyblade Burst is the crossover I need but the crossover that the world is not yet ready for. I just want to see Maedhros bond with Xander over being tall muscular gingers. I want Finrod and Valt to take over the world with the power of friendship. Fingon would save Shu before he became the victim of child experimentation/nonconsensual genetic modification because the Snake Pit is nothing compared to Angband. The Sons of Fëanor would be horrible role models for these eleven-year-old children, but at least they would be role models.

So much of the shit that went down in the first two seasons happened because most of these innocent little boys have parents that are too busy for them. Valt and Ken are the only exceptions. The Fëanorians, who love raising kids, would solve so many problems by simply existing in their vicinity, regardless of how they invented mass murder.

Shu wouldn’t have driven himself to a mental breakdown and joined a cult built on child exploitation if Maedhros had been there to say “No, he’s lying, winning is not what gives you worth, this is a trap.”

Free wouldn’t have driven everyone away in his desperation to keep his reputation as the best if Maglor was there to say “I know how it hurts to not be the best, but that doesn’t mean you’re not good enough. You shouldn’t hurt yourself trying to get better.”

When Valt, confronted with what used to be his best friend, said “I’m not going to stand for this,” Fingon would have been there for him, because he knows what it’s like to feel helpless in the face of an impossible task.

Shu wouldn’t have had so much lingering guilt about things that were barely his fault if the Fëanorians, who are experienced with thralls of Morgoth, had been there to say “This is not your fault, this is not what you are, this does not define you.”

I don’t know, I just…have a lot of feelings. I was in the Beyblade Burst fandom for four years, so I’m still a little attached to these boys. Not to mention that the Ambarussa would totally get along with Toko and Nika (and Celegorm and Wakiya could bond over being blond bitches to hide their daddy issues).

Then again, I once wrote a BBB x LOTR fic, so maybe I’m just biased.

[annoyinglandmagazine]

Turgon: Hey Maedhros, did you get my report?

Maedhros: Yeah, I looked it over. Nice work. 

Turgon: Good. Thanks, dad. 

Maedhros: ...

Fingon: ...

Celegorm: ...

Aeredhel: ...

Turgon: Why is everyone staring at me?

Fingon: You just called Maedhros ‘Dad’. You said, ‘Thanks, dad.’

Turgon: What? No, I didn’t. I said, ‘Thanks, man.’

Maedhros: Do you see me as a father figure?

Turgon: No. If anything, I see you as a bother figure ‘cause you’re always bothering me. 

Aredhel: Hey! Show your father some respect.

Turgon: I didn’t call him dad!

Maedhros: No, no-no-no. I take it as a compliment. 

Finrod: It’s not a big deal. I called my ex ‘mom’ once.  

Turgon: Guys, jump on that. Finrod has psycho-sexual issues. 

Aredhel: Old news. But you calling Maedhros ‘daddy’-

Turgon: Hey, ‘daddy’ is not on the table here. 

Celegorm : But you did call him ‘dad’, dude.

Turgon: You shut up, you’ve done nothing but lie since you got here. 

Celegorm: Alright, alright, I was lying about the hold-up, but that thing... that happened. 

Turgon: Aha! He admitted that his alibi was a lie. It was a trap. All part of my crazy, devious plan.

Maedhros: I believe you.

Turgon: Thank you.

Maedhros : ...kid

Turgon: ...

Maedhros: You wanna talk about it later, over a... game of catch?

Turgon ...I’d like that... 

[runawaymun]

✿ for all the feanorians? (Including nerdanel and other wives if you want)

ooo okay. I'll keep these relatively brief but here's a few:

✿ sex headcannon

Fëanor - messy and complicated but VERY good at sex. Likes to do it literally anywhere but the bed (forge forge forge forge). Incredibly jealous & possessive.

Nerdanel - I originally headcannoned her as very het but honestly messy disaster bi fits her too and I kind of like it for her.

Maedhros - deeply connected with his partner. Sex is very emotional for him tbh and he picks one partner (Fingon) and sticks with it.

Maglor - Aroace. Not sex repulsed but he just doesn't care about it.

Celegorm - per the recent Celegorm "he doesn't even know where the clitoris is" debacle on my blog I think I've made my stance on him pretty clear alkdhg. He really strikes me as a dudebro who's never had a partner that hasn't faked an orgasm, sorry.

Caranthir - enjoys the physicality of sex but doesn't really go seeking it out. He has better things to do with his time, usually, but again he's not opposed.

Curufin - daddy issues daddy issues daddy issues. My boy is all the way messed up. Cries a lot if he's called a good boy.

Amrod - poly & enjoys having a lot of partners.

Amras - feral. very very feral. Bites.

Celebrimbor - also sees sex as being a very emotional thing, and sees it as a way to deeply connect with his partner. He also doesn't really get jealous most of the time and tends to have more than one partner at once. Enjoys having both romantic and platonic sexual partners.

Headcannon meme

[amethysttribble]

And The Blush Pink Twilight Follows

I failed to complete FeanorianWeek this year, but I’m not a quiter, so I’m going to write and post the last four anyway. But it’s going to be out of order because time is an illusion and Moryo and Kano won’t cooperate. So-

Entry 4 5, Curufin (+Maedhros): Feanor

Being 11 and feeling crushing inadequacy is hard enough, but it’s harder when you’re 11 and already starting to figure out that your father and brother are main characters in this story and you’re going to be a side character at best.

This ended up way heavier than I expected, I wanted it to be FLUFFY. It’s not. It never goes well when I put Maedhros and Curufin in a room, there’s too many daddy issues between the two of them. But here goes!

Tyelkormo had taught Curufinwe how to climb nearly any tree, but Maitimo- despite being as tall as one- was proving to be a problem.

“Give it back!” he screamed, holding on to Maitimo’s outstretched arm, hands around his large wrist and one leg looped over his upper arm. “Give it back, give it back, give it back!”

“Say please,” Maitimo quipped, smiling of all things.

“It’s mine!” Curufinwe screeched, “I don’t have to say please!” 

From his position hanging from his brother’s unmovable arm- he’d hoped to drag him down, but no luck- he threw his right arm over, hooking his elbow around Maitmo’s forearm, then left go with his other hand. He started to reach around, and there was his creation, the base gripped firmly in his brother’s fingers, but not the top.

Curufinwe’s finger wrapped around steel.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Maitimo cried, sounding genuinely panicked for a moment. His arm jerked down, which didn’t take what they were fighting over out of reach, but did jolt Curufinwe’s looped arm right off of Maitimo’s. 

The ground rushed up.

Curufinwe let out a low moan of pain as he lay face-first on the ground, legs still suspended in the air. His head was pounding.

“Shit.” Far more carefully, his legs were let down, and then Curufinwe felt himself being pulled up. Maitimo sat before him, concern etched onto his face, his creation nowhere to be seen. Curufinwe let out another upset sound.

“Oh, your head, your clever head,” Maitimo muttered as he placed his hands on his forehead and scalp, feeling around. “Are you okay?”

Was he okay? Curufinwe was categorically not. His new creation was gone, he felt stupid for letting Nelyo see it, like a failure for not getting it back, and his head hurt! All he could do was sit there, a pounding pain between his ears. 

Embarrassingly, Curufinwe choked up.

“Give it back,” he whined, and he knew he sounded close to tears, he knew he did. So pathetic, he wasn’t some little kid, he wasn’t a baby like Amabarussa. He was almost thirty! And here he was, fighting back tears in front of Maitimo. His eldest brother would never respect him, acting like this.

Curufinwe squeezed his eyes shut to try and force away the urge to cry. He heard Nelyo sigh, and then those stupid arms that had foiled him three times already today wrapped around him. Maitmo stood, Curufinwe in his arms.

“I’m not a kid, I can walk,” he snapped, but didn’t fight.

“I know,” Nelyo said soothingly. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll carry Turko somewhere later. He’ll let me, too.” Tyelkormo was brave and shameless and Father said he was ‘exceptionally talented in his field’. Not to mention, full grown and tall; nobody tried to pick him up without asking. He didn’t need to fight. 

But Curufinwe knew that Maitimo would say something pacifying and unhelpful to that, so he kept his silence.

They walked silently to the dining room, where Maitimo set Curufinwe down gently. He looked at him for a second, pushing some hair back and running a hand over his scalp again. Then he said, “Wait here.” He left.

Curufinwe groaned. 

He no longer felt on the verge of tears, but his head still hurt. He put a hand up to his temple and swung his legs. He wanted Mother. A part of him hoped that Maitimo was going to get Mother, but another part of him revolted at the thought.

If Maitimo fetched her, then she would know they were fighting, and Curufinwe would get in trouble because his parents had come to some pack long before the rest of them were born that said that Nelyo was always right. He never got in trouble. It was so unfair.

And Curufinwe knew this time would be no different, even though Maitimo had stolen from him. Somehow, his big brother had a way of spinning even the most heinous crimes to be a good thing, actually, in disguise. It wasn’t fair. 

Nelyafinwe was good at talking like Father, and Curufinwe…

The tears welled up in his eyes again and he had to pinch the back of his hand to make them stop.

When Maitimo walked back in, Curufinwe glared at him.

He did not seem phased and simply approached with a bundle of cloth. Without asking- as he never did- Maitimo set the bag against the back of Curufinwe’s head, and it was ice cold. So it was probably ice.

“There,” Maitimo said soothingly, “does that feel better?”

“I’d feel better if you’d stop babying me,” he snapped.

Maitimo regarded him coolly for a second, meeting his eyes. Then he looked away, having the gall to let out an exasperated sigh.

“You’re right, Curvo, you’re not a ‘baby’. But that’s why I had hoped you’d understand why you can’t be walking around with a dagger, of all things. Nor should you be making them! Where did you even learn to do that, because if Father’s been teaching you to make blades…”

The implied threat that Nelyo would tell Mother and start a fight between her and Father made Curufinwe’s throat close up in horror. He hated when they fought. He really, really hated it, especially when it was about him. For some reason, Mother was often mad at Father because of him.

“Please don’t,” Curufinwe whispered, voice strangled.

Nelyo gave him a considering look.

“Tell me where you learned to make a blade, and maybe we can keep this between us.”

He considered his options. He knew that he absolutely could not lie; Maitimo could smell a lie from across the sea if he had to. So he must either be honest or be silent. Silent, Curufinwe could do. He was good at being ‘sullen’, even Father noted it sometimes. But what happened if he stayed silent? Nelyo told Mother, she and Father fought, things were awful for the next week, month, however long.

But if he told the truth, he could get banned from the forge, and that was… Curufinwe would die like Grandmother if he was banned from the forge. 

Thankfully, though, even if Nelyo tried to punish him, if he just explained how dire the situation was to Father, he would overrule. 

That was more trouble, but Curufinwe could control that trouble.

His head was really cold now and the pain was gone, so he batted Maitimo away and said, “Just watching.”

“Just watching?” Maitimo repeated, raising an eyebrow. Curufinwe nodded.

“Really. I’ve worked with steel a little before. When Father replaced all of Master Hilyar’s farm tools last year, I got to help, and I made one of the shovels almost all on my own. So I know steel.”

Maitimo did not look as impressed as he should, so Curufinwe crossed his arms and gave him a hard stare. After a moment, he said, “Right, that’s really neat, Curvo. But the weapons?”

“Father says anything can be a weapon,” Curufinwe replied, and he knew Nelyo didn’t like that reply from the way his face scrunched, but it was true! “And anything can be a tool. Daggers are very common tools, you know.”

“Not for Elflings.” “I’m not a little kid!”

“Just-” Nelyo ran a hand down his face and let out a long breath. “The point, please, Atarinke.”

Curufinwe decided that Maitimo was too stupid to waste his time on, and said, “Well, knowing how the metal reacts is one of the most important parts. We have dagger molds. I knew what I wanted to make. After the metal settle and I had to temper it, that was a little harder. I broke two blades before I succeeded. But I’ve seen Father do it. So I just had to practice. And I did it! I made my dagger, it’s mine. Mine, Nelyo.”

“Yes, yours,” Maitimo agreed, sounding exhausted. Why? It wasn’t like there hadn’t been time to rest, it was summer. There was so much freetime, Curufinwe didn’t know what to do with himself but work and experiment. 

“But, Curvo, don’t you see how that’s dangerous? Working on a project like that for the first time unsupervised?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Curufinwe rebutted, leaning forward, “if I had made a steel spade. It’s the fact that it’s a blade that you care, even though Turko and the other hunters have tons of blades, and even Mother carries one when she goes on walks in the wild. You’re mad because Nolofinwe’s been talking at council about how Father makes blades while we’re away and you think it makes us look bad.”

“How do you even know-” Maitimo sputtered, before shaking his head. “Wait, no, let me guess. Just watching.”

Curufinwe watched most things. People didn’t tend to notice he was there, standing behind Father. Smaller and dimmer and-

“Just give it back,” he whined. “Please. I won’t carry it for long, I won’t show it to Ambarussa or cut off any of Moryo’s hair. It’s not even sharp enough for that… I just wanted to show it to Father.”

He stared up at Nelyo, suddenly… suddenly pleading, for as embarrassing as that was. He could feel himself shivering slightly, getting stupidly emotional again. It was just- just that twenty minutes ago he was so excited to give the dagger he made to Father, and now that feeling had slipped away. He was scared now, about how much trouble he’d caused for something that wasn’t even good.

Not near as good as anything Father made. Oh, why did he even want to do this in the first place? He was so-

“For what it’s worth,” Nelyo said, hopping up on the table to sit next to him, “it looks sharp enough to have scared the treelights out of me. You must have polished it for a long time.”

Miserably, Curufinwe nodded. Maitimo wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“You’re too hard on yourself, Curvo. I… might have gone a little hard in this instance. You know Father will like anything you make, right?”

“Like it,” he muttered in reply, “not respect it.”

“You’re not even twenty-eight-”

“Almost thirty!”

“You’ve got plenty of time to earn respect later.” Nelyo laughed slightly, and that made Curufinwe curl in on himself. He pulled his knees up to his chest and tucked his chin between them.

“At my age, Father was revolutionizing language.”

“Well… Father’s exceptional.”

“That’s easy for you to say!” Curufinwe huffed, squeezing his eyes shut. This was stupid. Talking with Maitimo about anything was pointless, he was so- so-

“Hey, hey, hey,” Maitimo said, pulling his chin up to look him in the eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern. “What does that mean?”

“You know what it means,” Curufinwe spat out. “Everyone likes you and thinks you’re smart and good at what you do, and you’re Father’s heir-”

Maitimo sighed, “This again,” and rolled his eyes and that lit a fire in Curufinwe’s chest. He slapped out at his brother and pushed his arm off. He wanted out of here, this was stupid, he was almost crying again. He was partway down the table when Maitimo snatched him around the waist and pulled him back up.

“Nuh-uh, we’re not done. Why do you even care about something that meaningly less? You’re Curufinwe.”

He something in his chest exploded. He let out a cry of frustration, curling in on himself again, shaking.

“Because- because- because- you don’t respect me,” he blubbered, heaving angry breaths. “And Father doesn’t respect me, because no one does. And no one can tell Father no because he’s so good, but everyone tells me no all the time, because I’m not good. And it’s not fair! Because you get to do everything you want and get praised for it, because you’re perfect, even Mother thinks so-”

Maitimo started to shush him, petting his hair again. 

“Woah, hey, let’s take a step back,” he said gently. “I didn’t expect- Breathe.” 

Curufinwe did. He hiccuped and gasped until his lungs stopped burning so much. Thankfully, he was able to wipe away the wetness on his cheeks quickly. He hadn’t cried that much, he just… couldn’t breathe for a moment there.

“What was that?” Maitimo asked, voice annoying soft, as were his fingers as he carded them through his hair. “There was quite a lot that bubbled up there. You don’t- I’m not that special, you know that right?”

In reply, he just sniffed disdainfully at a statement that stupid. That was a lie, and Maitimo knew it too. It was in his eyes; the confidence that came from knowing you were exceptional.

Nelyo tried a different attack.

“It’s normal to feel insecure,” he said. “Especially in comparison to Father. We’ve all felt that, me, Kano, Turko, Moryo. We’ve gotten older and found the fields that are right for us, but that doesn’t make us more special than you.”

“That’s not what I mean, it’s different with them,” he mumbled.

“Come on,” Nelyo wheedled, “you don’t think Moryo’s really talented at picking petty academic fights?”

Curufinwe gave Nelyo a droll look.

“Moryo doesn’t matter as much as you do.”

That made Maitimo gape in something approaching horror, then pinch the bridge of his nose. “Sweet suffering Manwe,” he muttered, “never say that in front of him- Never say that again, please, Curvo. I just… I don’t know where this idea comes from. ‘Heir’, that’s… it’s a stupid title. It doesn’t mean anything. If it’s a competition about being like Father, you win everytime, and if it’s about being good at something, you’re still learning. Give yourself time, Curufinwe. You’ll grow into the name.”

Nelyo didn’t understand and Curufinwe was tired of explaining. He wanted to be willfully blind… Father said that modesty was a particular type of vanity and Maitimo was drowning in it. Everything he did gleamed.

Everything I make, Curufinwe thought as Nelyo silently handed back his dagger, is dull.

“One day,” Maitimo said, “you will make something incredible, that blows everyone away. A real masterpiece. And you know what? I bet it will be better than anything Father’s ever made, too.”

Curufinwe snorted, but he still looked up at Nelyo. “Promise?”

“Promise. Now come on. You still want to show Father your dagger?”

[imfromthemiddlekingdom]

I am projecting all my eldest daughter energy and daddy issues into my fingolfin x maedhros fix it fic. If I can’t be happy at least I’m going to make my fave happy in my mind.