#so like I'm imagining...probably not Maglor. because as much as I love him‚ I don't know if I can fully picture him playing bagpipes.

[fandomsandfairytales]

Ooooooo I love this idea! I do have to say, it's got me thinking....what about bagpipes for battles 👀

first age elves going into battle with a marching band

[eri-pl]

Ok, so I have a very silly and probably barely applicable question, but what with Morgoth-canary and I think I remember a post where you said you had very strong opinions about Maglor's voice (I don't remember them, it was one of those "blink and it's gone" posts of my feed ! But I'd like to read them if you feel like it - although I don't know the first thing about music so it's just really sheer curiosity), so I was wondering if you had thoughts about Morgoth's voice ? What could Ainuric voices be like ? And did taking permanent physical form affect his voice ? Probably, right ? He wouldn't have been able to modulate/change it quite as much as before, maybe be stuck with a classically villainy "evil" one ? And then in the void he would have no voice anymore.

Ooooh! Thank you for this question, it's great!

First, Maglor. He is a bass. Well, not really, because I'm certain that Elves have wider vocal ranges, but his speaking voice is rather low, and his singing voice is varied, but can go super low, vibrations-in-your-bones low, and his songs are generally low on pitch. Like the sea. The sea does not squeek.

This is one of the headcanons I will argue about. I am rather strong in my opinions about Maglor. I would rather agree on "Maglor in the Darkness Everlasting"* than on tenor Maglor.

Oh, so now to the king of fools, lord of nothing, Melkor in his various iterations. Starting back when he wasn't such an idiot yet. Standard Morgoth content warning: we'll be doing a short recap of his history. No details, just allusions to events.

So, Ainulindale. which is my favorite chapter. Melkor was the greatest of the Ainur, which means, I think, he had a relatively wide vocal range, well wider than all the other Ainur.

But also, he was a little bint (word thanks to dfw), and taking into account all the band kid stereotypes… OK, tbh I know exactly one professional soprano, who also plays violin, and she's really nice and the only other things she's got in common with Melkor are the fear of spiders and cool hair. But, this being said, the personality stereotypes say that Melkor should be a soprano.

The Ainur's voices aren't gender-coded, I would say. If they even had the idea of gender at that point.

So, he can do many things, but he generally sings in a high pitch, because this makes everyone notice him.

Also, musically... so, this is that thing called chromatic notes. It's a think that jazz does (and I love jazz, I have mental associacions with jazz that would make tolkien chase me with an axe, but let's not digress). Like: when you compare Chopin to Mozart; Chopin is way more chromatic.

So, Melkor doesn't do it. He sings his own dumb melody, which is in a dissonance to everyone else initially (which means it is chromatic in the context of the whole Music), but internally it is simple. It is fifths, lates I would say he just repeats one note on and on, just in many octaves. And the note is probably B. Or maybe G flat.

OK, in non-musical terms: imagine someone is playing a piano (in a normal, mostly-white-keys way), and someone else is banging on the black keys, and then only on all the Gb keys. It's loud but primitive. And doesn't fit until you go Chopin and everything becomes lyrical and so sad, and then he can't really break it, I can't explain it well.

TLDR: Extremely simple harmony, but loud and not in the normal key.

Also, I wanted to talk about power chords but I don't think you want another musical tangent. (They're not as cool as they sound, they're empty-ish inside but it kinda works in the context)

Then they all go to Arda and at some point begin speaking properly. Iirc it's only after the Elves, but I assume the Ainur did have some sounds associated with them even before.

So Melkor's general sound landscape would again be empty inside. Some very loud tones, because they feel majestic: thunder rumbling, ice grinding, earthquake and the murmur of volcano, you can feel it in your bones and it's terryfying. Some very high tones, because they are effective and hard to miss. Evil screeching. No middle tones, because he's an idiot he finds them boring. Empty shell, like an epic movie soundtrack compised by a first-year student of music school and played on a midi. All the trappings but none of the actual work.

His voice, during the Black Rider phase would be similar. Low and rumbling and terryfying, but everytime he gets emotional it becomes high-pitched and has this infuriating timbre of when people talk with a very tense throat. It makes him sound insecure. Because he is. And when beaten by Tulkas he screams like this.

Then we have the parole and I do hc that he actually meant to be better, only he imagined it like "I stop breaking your stuff, and messing with the little beings, and you start listening to me like you listen to Manwë (= you do all I want you to do)" and was not really interested in putting in the effort. So the whole idea broke at the first problems (the city is so pretty, not everyone likes me, Feanor).

Anyway in his Aman phase I imagine Melkor with relatively low voice, but not so low it's weird. He fits in the nornal Elven spectrum. Baritone? Getting higher with the pitch when needed, but rarely he would let his emotions show enough to go very high.

Also, the sweet manner of talking that Sauron had as Annatar or in Numenor, but not so self-deprecating. Less of a "I'm but a humble servant" and more of "I am pretty cool, hey, want to do cool things with me?" The general vibe of a bad boy in a teenage romantic drama. Elongated syllabes, using all the most recent and fashionable Noldorin mannerisns (sa-si all the way!). Also, a lot of whispering, when he spreads the gossip and what not. "Sexy voice" but with his lack of understanding and respect for bounduaries it often feels creepy.

Then he grows more and more sinister, more focused on revenge against the Noldor (well, Feanor) and the Valar. His voice becomes more like a low-key Disney villain. The pitch is unchanged, but the tone is full of suggestions of subtext. It's never clear, but a lot of insinuations are hanging in the air. this kind of slithery, musical intonation in a sentence, elongating of wovels, slightly question-like tone too often. (I can't give you a good example, Scar would be a good example, but only in the Polish dub)

Then he does the Ungoliant business and gets stuck in his Dark Lord form. So, I would say low, booming voice, but flat (=not many overtones, the voice sounds shallow). Loud and with echo, but somehow not as majestic as he would like it. And when he gets scared or lusty or anyhow agitated, he starts talking faster and in a higher voice and with clenched throat.

And he gradually deteriorates, due to Silmarils and general awfulness, and his voice becomes more raspy, more noisy. At the end it's impossible to ascribe a set pitch to it, just like to white noise. Still it doesn't have tones in the middle, but the highs and lows are a mess, and closer to each other, the lacking middle is more narrow. And he doesn't speak much near the end, he's not that interested in any communication. Especially after trying to talk (ekhm) with Lúthien ended like it did. His voice rusts.

And at the end it's just panicked screams that sound more like ….not even an animal. More like a mindless dark creature than like a person. Switching between threats and pleading and pure panic, always full of hatered and disdain. Loud but always so very flat.

And then, upon hearing all those screams, Manwë realizes that the brother he remembers is gone, and that he can't do anything about it— how can you do a reprise without one of the main singers? And even if you could, how can you be happy forever missing someone you love? He doesn't know. I don't know. I am sad.

On one hand the very idea of Second Music is so wonderful and answers so many questions and Aegnor and Andreth and Elrond and Elross and all that and more— and I can't imagine Manwë thinking about this idea and not thinking at the back of his head "my brother won't be with us" and not being sad. I am not saying it's not possible. Just that I can't wrap my mind around it. Or my feelings.

Yes, this is one of my attractors, one of the topics I usually land on. Because. Reasons. Which I will not ramble about because they are personal. But it does make me sad. A lot.

I have some scenes in my head when people Valar talk about this, Nienna obv, she doesn't get it either, many people would probably say she would get it idk

Anyway that's it. That's the post. Sorry it's not more concrete.

[amethysttribble]

Edmure judging Mae's taste in secret boyfriends because if he's gonna have one he should be dating someone cooler than that is cracking me up lol. "The problem isn't that he's gay, it's that Maglor is lame!" Like I'm actually snickering slightly audibly.

Edmure cares a lot of about his brother! He wants him to be happy! To be with someone worthy! Someone cool! And- it must be said- someone who probably fits the Westerosi idea of what the romanticized (? might not be the word I'm looking for) mlm relationship look like in Westeros.

Because I think it's worth noting that- contrary to the show's non-canon exaggerated violence around queerness- in the books there's generally a very quiet 'do not talk about this' kind of... not acceptance. But it was Barristan Selmy, the perfect old man knight himself, who said, "All of King Aegon's children married for love."

He included Prince Daeron and Jeremy Norridge in that.

And comments are made about Oberyn 'bedding both men and women', but it's not given special attention, it's part of his outlandish personality that he has relations with men openly, like he was also a sellsword and a poisoner and has eight bastard daughters and a lover who is a bastard. Ellaria being a bastard and also near his wife is treated as just as, if not more, scandalous. (Though I imagine that's because they're OPEN about their relationship)

It all strikes me as the culture in westeros treating queerness as more of a 'hush hush, inconvenient eccentricity' than any kind of scornful sin. At least, not in the way the show portrayed it. I don't imagine everyone is kind- I have Maglor say as much and Loras imply as much- but we do have quite a few implied historical accounts of gay relationships and that says to me that there's probably a... literary tradition in Westeros about 'warriors' who share a bond deeper than any man can share with a woman.

A 'classical' romance being a concept that exists in Westeros.

And I think most people who have clocked Maedhros as gay (including Catelyn and Edmure) categorize him like that. Edmure especially I think sees it as like... a knightly tale and is COUNFOUNDED and offended by Maglor being a bard asalk;fjsfd.

Catelyn perceives Maedhros choosing to marry a Frey girl as a similar kind of hard but necessary reality of life as she was expected to to fill, 'duty, family, honor', being married off to people she scarcely knew in a far away place, stripped of agency and choice for her family's gain (it's not a perfect analogy, but it makes her feels kinship with him)

That's the thing. As long as he doesn't do anything CRAZY like choose not to marry (cough Blackfish cough) and eschew his duties to House Tully in producing an heir, and keeps his affairs *quiet* its only tad more scandalous than him having a long term lover whose a woman.

Anything more than that would not be met with the same quiet acceptance.

And that, I think, is the cruel part. People look at Maedhros (and Renly, and Loras, and Oberyn) and think: you can have your eccentricities and indulgences, as long as they're quiet and don't interfere with what polite society expects of you.

So yeah... not violent and angry kind of rejection, but a quieter, cold kind.

ANYWAY you didn't ask for this rant! Was just on my mind. Thanks for sparking the thoughts!

[valasania-the-pale]

do you have any galadriel brainrot rattling around that you want to share? I'm especially fascinated by any/all galadriel & maglor ideas either in the third age, or otherwise...chiefly bc of your portrayal of them in "the final verse" is so interesting ...Or just, brainrot in general? Always love hearing your takes on things <3 <3 <3

Always.

If I'm focusing on her relationship with Maglor however, I think it may be funny to share that I don't think Galadriel likes Maglor much at all, but rather pities him. He is, arguably, the most wretched elf alive by the end of things, and a decent reflection of what she could have been had she made different, probably tempting choices in her life. Maglor chose something over goodness (whether that was family, pride, loyalty, or whatever, it kind of depends on your reading of him, but whatever it was, he prioritized that thing over being a decent person), while Galadriel was faced with the choice of her ambition and pride over goodness - and in her case, where it mattered, she chose right. She knows how that temptation can feel, however, and I would imagine that Maglor (and Maedhros, back when he was around) were and are very personal cautionary examples of where personal desire can lead when not tempered by wisdom and care.

You know, I like to think that it would be Galadriel to drag Maglor back to Valinor? Not because she likes him, or because she thinks he deserves it, but because my picture of Galadriel is someone who has seen so many loose ends left untied, between Morgoth's escape, the Valar leaving Middle Earth and its people in the lurch of Morgoth's hatred and warring, and the aftermath of the War of Wrath (e.g. Sauron was left unaccounted for, enabling all of the sorrow to come). Leaving Maglor behind means that the story isn't done, the elves will never fully leave, he'll just fade away into a vague sea-voice, an unending, quavering note, held past the point of breaking, never finished. I think that, where Elrond would honor Maglor's grief and choice, Galadriel would be just unimpressed and impatient with it all. "No, we're not doing this again, get on the damn boat. Mourn in Lorien if you must, but I'll be damned again before I leave you here."

I think it also stems from the idea that, by the end of the third age, I think Galadriel is tired of almost everything, tired enough that old grudges - however deserved - are just not worth clinging to. He's done awful things, but depending on how you read her, hasn't Galadriel also? She's either a bit player in the Silmarillion or she abandoned her family entirely - for someone so skilled, and who later (in her fading years) demonstrates such will and power, it implies a personal history of just generally keeping her hands off. And if she was hands-on, then she failed like everyone else. She's connected to everything intimately, so no matter the reading, there's pain and failure there. Maglor has obviously done more, but understanding doesn't come from equivalence, it comes from kinship.

And, I think the last reason she'd do it, is because Galadriel almost certainly knew Nerdanel. After having to endure Celebrian's situation, after Luthien's departure (and presumably the grief that caused Melian), and now having to face telling Celebrian that she'll never see Arwen again, I don't think Galadriel would just accept Maglor's self-imposed exile knowing it would harm Nerdanel as well. It would be one last, unnecessary tragedy to pile onto an exorbitant pile (and, in my headcanons of Galadriel's history, I like to imagine that she and Nerdanel had a connection of friendship for various reasons). There's a whole sub-narrative about mothers having to just accept the loss of their daughters in the Silmarillion (Earwen joins the list, and Anaire, and--), and if Galadriel has shown anything, it's that she strongly defies convention.

[glorfindel-of-imladris]

Apologies that I'm randomly bothering you, but your ship suggestions have me quite intrigued👀

May I have some tea on Eönwë/Elladan and Maglor/Ecthelion?🤗 (Glorfindel/Erestor/Ecthelion is interesting too, but that I can imagine/already have ideas :D)

Oh help, I realized I haven't replied to this yet. 😭 I know it is now Very Late, but here we go.

I cannot divulge too much of what I have on Ecthelion and Maglor as I feel I share headcanons for this made-up ship with friends who may wish to write them first, BUT! I am happy to share what I have for Eönwë and Elladan!

This ship developed from this one Eönwë tidbit that has him linked to Númenor. It was said that the Númenoreans learned from him at the beginning, and so I imagine that among the Children of Eru, Eönwë would have the most sympathy for the Secondborn, and Númenor would have been his “one great love”. But because they were mortal, and given what eventually happened to them, the experience of loving Númenor left an impression on Eönwë, one he has not repeated again, so deeply did the eventual fall of the once favored isle affect him.

Elladan, on the other hand, by virtue of his name, I imagine is more Man than Elf compared to his brother, Elrohir. Even so, I like to believe that Elladan eventually sails with Elrohir in the Fourth Age, for love of his brother and also for his parents. But sailing and choosing the path of the Elves were not fully what Elladan wished, and if he did not have Elrohir, Elladan might have chosen to be among Men. He never was decided on either when he sailed.

Fast forward then to Elladan in Valinor. He struggles with his choice. He was most at home with the Rangers, and he misses his brothers-in-arms from Middle-earth. He even misses his sister, Arwen, whom he also somehow envies for taking the path of Men. Elladan wanders the lands of the Valar and meets Eönwë, who is odd even for a Maia (Eönwë is not the warmest of beings), but they somehow keep meeting and tentatively forge a friendship. Eönwë eventually sees in Elladan the children of the Númenor that he once loved and lost, and Elladan finds someone in Aman outside of his family to confide in. Eönwë can hear Elladan’s prayers in Valinor, hears the regrets Elladan whispers to the winds because he couldn't tell them to Elrohir for fear of hurting him or being a burden. And Elladan, for all his melancholy in Aman, is outwardly a bright person, and so he is the first person in a long time to get Eönwë out of his shell—to everyone, even Manwë's, great amusement.

These two are probably going to be my longest slow burn, if I ever get to writing them. Or, even if I don't, they are still dear to me and make total sense in my head!

[elithilanor]

Silm fluff~

We know how at this point it can be considered canon that maedhros raised all his brothers (and probably was designated babysitter for most of the cousins as well) but i like to go a bit further and think that he didn't only help watch them but actively taught and supported each one of them....

We know that he isn't really known for having a single great talent like Curvo or Maglor, so i like to imagine he just went and learned a bit of everything in order to indulge his baby brothers.

Listening to all of Maglors first attempts at songwriting and harmonizing with him, even tho he sometimes doesn't quite hit the notes perfectly and maglor will chew him out for it.

Showing how to make the best arrows and fishing hooks to Tyelco and probably also treating all the little scrapes the kid got while running around in the woods all day. Up to the point where the only thing he can still keep up is fishing bc when did this boy get so fast?!

At first still helping Carantir with equations until the poor boy has to explain every single step to maedhros. Mae gave in after that and just started to sneak out trade contracts for Moryo to look through as long as the kid wants. He's also there and let's Moryo throw a tantrum every time his baby bro gets overwhelmed by his emotions again or was called weird for not playing with other kids.

Curufin gets a lot of support from their dad already but we know how immersed Feanor can get in his projects and how much of a perfectionist he is. So Mae makes sure they regularly eat and hydrate. He keeps every single trinket Curvo ever made (for him) and tries to help when he is in a creative low by asking for the the most incredulous things, starting with a set of jewelry that looks so hideous Curvo straight out refuses to work on it and ending with little inventions to make everyday life easier (thats how the handheld mixer was invented).

We don't really have a lot of info about the twins, but as far as i remember they were the only of their kind until Elrued and Elruin, so i head canon them to be some kind of novelty that ppl sometimes stared at and noone really understood. When they get overwhelmed they take a page out of Carantirs book and come to their oldest brother, who showers them with love and reassurances until they stop being insecure about relying on each other so much. There is a time while they grow up where they try to distance a bit bc they think that they should become more independent but Mae kind of hunts them down with a giant plate of soufflé pancakes and they just.... Come out and tell him about their problems again (from then on there is always something sweet for the deep talks). Mae gets really invested in researching osanwe for a time bc of them and helps them create a mindspace of their own as well.

(the knowledge about his first twins helps a lot with raising elros and elrond later, even though it takes some time until he can share his experiences or even look at his second set of twins without his throat getting too tight to talk)

I hope that helped a little bit and that your day gets better~

For the life of me I'm not sure why this didn't show up until I logged in on my desktop, but I'm so glad I did because I never would have seen this otherwise.

Genuinely thank you so much for these <3 <3 Words cannot express how happy and warm these made me feel (and I'm terrible at commentary anyway, so I hope you'll forgive me). Also, soufflé pancakes!!

These are absolutely wonderful hcs and I, too, see Maedhros as the very caring and over-protective older brother/mother hen/often father figure to his siblings. I like to imagine that while Nerdanel is a wonderful mother, Feänor is...complicated (much like him and everything else) so Mae kind of ends up stepping in sometimes.

Thank you <3

[tolkien-feels]

Could you please share more Mahtan headcanons? Especially his relationship with Maedhros? I get the impression that they are really close, and that Mahtan(and Finwe too actually) views Maedhros as his pride and joy. I think Maedhros is a perfectionist and tries really hard to be the perfect son and grandson, and that this irritates his brothers somewhat. I think Maedhros and Curufin are somewhat similar in this aspect, which makes their relationship really interesting (more so than Maedhros/Maglor and Celegorm/Curufin imo)

I've already said a few things on this post, which is most likely why you're sending me this in the first place, but you might also wanna check out this short post about Maedhros and Curufin.

Anyway, to quote from the post you're referring to:

Maedhros might be Nelyafinwe, but he’s also Russandol, and let’s not forget this quote:

[Nerdanel’s father’s] name was [space; pencilled later Sarmo?], but he was most widely known as Urundil ‘copper-lover’. He usually wore a band of copper about his head. His hair was not as dark or black as was that of most of the Ñoldor, but brown, and had glints of coppery-red in it. Of Nerdanel’s seven children the oldest, and the twins (a very rare thing among the Eldar) had hair of this kind. The eldest also wore a copper circlet.

Let's go from there.

What I find fascinating is that Maedhros looks like Mahtan and possibly has a similar temperament (since both have names that reflect their on-point copper accessorizing: Mahtan goes by Urundil 'copper-lover' and Maedhros goes by Russandol 'copper-top'), but Curufin is the one who inherits Mahtan's skill of craft.

On the Finwe side, Maedhros makes no attempt to produce an heir, and gives up the crown but is able to prove himself an amazing leader whenever his leadership is tested. But then, Curufin continues the family line with Celebrimbor, and his attachment to Feanor is a clear mirror of Finwe's.

If, like I said, Feanor is caught up between his affinity with Mahtan and Finwe, Maedhros and Curufin who themselves inherited different parts of Feanor don't quite align themselves as easily with their grandfathers either.

To put it simply, I like to think that Maedhros is a leader like Finwe and Curufin is a crafter like Mahtan, but that on a personal level, Maedhros's personality is reminiscent of Mahtan's while Curufin's is of Finwe's. (Or what little we can guess about Mahtan and Finwe given the very limited info we have.)

So while I'm sure both grandfathers greatly love all of Feanor and Nerdanel's sons, I've always headcanoned that Maedhros and Curufin are great favorites. It's also, in part, an age thing - I headcanon there's a bigger age gap between Curufin and the twins than between any other of the Feanorians, so for a while, Maedhros was extra beloved for being the first grandson, and Curufin for being the youngest.

In terms of sheer amount of time spent together, Maedhros probably has spent more time with Finwe and Curufin with Mahtan, because Maedhros belongs at court and Curufin by a forge. But I also think that if Maedhros did stop by Mahtan's forge, Mahtan would drop everything to go greet him, and the same with Curufin and Finwe. The very fact that they naturally get along but don't necessarily spend too much time together ensures that when they do meet, it's a whole thing.

If we're talking specifics (and going back to what you actually asked me, which was to talk about Mahtan and Maedhros!), I imagine that (like I've mentioned here) Maedhros reminds Mahtan a lot of young Nerdanel. I mean, much more outgoing and less crafty, but the drive to always do the right thing, the willfulness tempered by kindness, the wise-beyond-their-years thing... it's all very familiar.

While Maedhros as I headcanon him was very independent from a very young age, and while I do think he knew he could and many times did rely on his parents, I also like to think that if he ever needed any kind of advice that he wasn't necessarily eager to get from his parents (mainly advice about his parents, though not exclusively), Mahtan would be his go-to person. (Which also means Mahtan helped shape Maedhros's personality, a little bit.)

I've thought about it before and I don't think Nerdanel would ask Maedhros to draw away from Feanor, or to persuade his brothers to, not even after Feanor is 100% out of control following Finwe's death. Mahtan, though? I can see that. I love the headcanon that Mahtan would at some point (probably not when he warned Nerdanel - I think it'd be later) talk to Maedhros in private and... not ask him to stay away from Feanor, but make it very clear that Feanor is becoming dangerous and is likely to get worse and that Aule is concerned.

And I do think Maedhros takes the warning very seriously, but unlike Nerdanel, Maedhros, perhaps in a very well-intentioned display of Feanorian arrogance, decides that actually, he can salvage the situation somehow, and that his siblings are definitely his responsibility. After Finwe dies on his watch (not on his watch, but good luck convincing him of that), Maedhros also thinks Feanor's wellbeing is his responsibility as some twisted kind of atonement.

I do think that while Mahtan intellectually understands that this is no one's fault exactly, he very much blames himself for not having handled the Maedhros situation better. Maybe if their conversation had gone differently things wouldn't have happened this way, etc.

This. got very long. I'll shut up now.

[sweetteaanddragons]

Oh god don't take risk assessments from Fingon, Gil-galad. I'm so glad the family claims him, and I'm curious to hear the author's theory on where this one is from. My dumb theory: since the Elves' Maia heritage is down to Elrond, his sons, and maybe Elured and Elurin, it would be nice if he turned out to be related to the missing twins. My actual theory: no one in particular, the world is built by the ones who show up to work.

It’s not a dumb theory! It’s not, however, what I went with. For that, see below.

Quick note: Maglor’s wife in this is the same as his wife in my alternate character interpretation snippet for her. This will probably make more sense if you read that first.

Maedhros is barely a shadow when he first gets there, but Fingon stubbornly sticks around.

When Maedhros is well enough to listen and, in his opinion, in need of some distraction, he finally asks.

“I’m trying to figure out Gil-Galad’s parentage. I don’t suppose you know?”

Maehros looks startled, which is at least better than horrifically depressed. “He’s not yours?”

Fingon’s heard that from others. A lot of others. He doesn’t know why everyone keeps assuming that.

“Not mine.”

He’ll have to try Maedhros’s brothers later. For now, he’s right where he needs to be. 

“Fingon,” Curufin says from his place on the floor. He hasn’t bothered to open his eyes. Fingon never did learn the trick to that. “What do you want?”

Nice to see his time in Mandos hasn’t changed him. “To talk.”

“About?”

Fingon gives up and gets straight to the point. “Offspring.”

Curufin cracks one eye open and rolls over to face him. His face is shadowed through the bars. “I didn’t think you had any.”

“Yours,” he clarifies. 

That catches Curufin’s attention completely. He rolls to his feet, face tense. “Has something happened to Celebrimbor? The tapestries here are useless.”

Whoever’s in charge of these things apparently decided Curufin would benefit from graphic scenes of Finrod’s imprisonment. Fingon’s been trying not to look at them.

“He’s fine,” he assures him. “Or at least he was fine the last time someone died, there hasn’t been nearly as much of that going around since the war ended. I wanted to ask about the potential for . . . other offspring.”

Curufin looks around the lonely confines his cell with grim amusement. The bars are set deep into the stone. If there’s hinges or a lock, they aren’t visible. “At the moment, I would say the potential was low.”

“Already produced offspring,” Fingon further clarifies.

Curufin frowns. “Why . . . ?” His face goes pale. “Has Nirivel . . . Is there a child she’s saying is mine?”

Judging by his face, if that was the case there’s no chance the child actually would be.

“No, no,” Fingon assures him. “Nothing like that. I’m just trying to figure out who Gil-Galad belongs to.”

Curufin rolls his eyes. It almost distracts from his slowly returning color. “And you couldn’t just say that? In case you’ve forgotten, Fingon, my wife stayed on these shores. Gil-Galad was born in Beleriand.”

That’s not actually technically a denial, so Fingon pushes on cautiously. “Under the circumstance, remarriage - “

Curufin stalks forward until he’s gripping the bars in a white knuckled rage. “I am no oathbreaker,” he hisses.

“The Valar know we all wish you were,” Fingon mutters without thinking.

Curufin steps away from the bars. The rage has disappeared into a blank pleasantness that makes Fingon far more uneasy. “Forgive me. I should not have been so surprised by the question. I shouldn’t have forgotten that you were of the line of Indis and have strange ideas of family fidelity.”

“Of the two of us, which of us actually - “ Fingon cuts himself off. “No. We’re not having this fight again. Or the other fight. Or any fights! I know what I need to know.” He hesitates before he heads back into the maze of winding tunnels. “Maedhros sends his love.” 

Curufin actually looks relieved for a moment before the mask descends again. Fingon’s surprised he saw anything; solitary must have decayed Curufin’s skills at hiding considerably. 

The relief brings to mind what had escaped him before. “You do know about - ?”

“How he died?” Curufin interrupts. He smiles bitterly. “You’re not my very first visitor. Nienna brings news sometimes.” His look turns puzzled. “How are you here? Namo sentenced me to solitary confinement.”

“I petitioned to visit Maedhros,” Fingon explains. “Repeatedly.”

Curufin makes a show of looking around. “Unless I’m very much mistaken, he’s not here.”

“Yes, well, by the time he gave in, he was far too frustrated to be careful with his word choice, and what he actually said was ‘Visit the kinslayer if you want to!’ Which as I view it, really gives me leave to visit just about everyone here.”

For the first time in centuries, he hears Curufin laugh.

He stumbles across Uncle Feanor next.

He’s . . . not entirely sure what he’s seeing at first when he does.

“Are you unravelling Vaire’s tapestry?” he chokes out.

Uncle Feanor leaps to his feet. “Findekano! What an unexpected pleasure. I’d been hoping for a chance to thank you for what you did for Maitimo.”

Fingon can’t tear his eyes away from the loose threads that once made up an entire wall of tapestry. Some of them have been laid out in complex patterns. “It’s Fingon now,” he manages. “And you’re definitely unravelling the tapestry. Why are you unravelling the tapestry? There’s a stone wall behind it, it’s not like it’ll get you out! Is it the scene?”

The scene is . . . Maedhros yielding the crown to Fingon’s father which strikes him as a little petty, but at least it explains why Uncle Feanor’s unravelling it.

Or not, because what Uncle Feanor actually says is, “Oh, no. I needed materials, and this was the best option.”

“Materials? What can you possible do with all that?”

Feanor eyes the mass of thread thoughtfully. “Well, it’s woven through with the essence of time and space, so I’m hoping for a form of transport through either.”

This terrifying image needs only a moment to sear through his brain. “Please don’t invent time travel, Uncle Feanor.” It comes out a little strangled.

“Why not? There’s a good deal that could be improved from what Nienna tells me. Anyway, that can’t be why you’ve come. Do you have news? Have you seen my sons?”

Fingon tears his eyes away from the threads. “Two of them. Curufin and Maedhros. Curufin’s well enough. Maedhros is . . . better.” That’s really the best he can say of that, so he hurries on. “I’ve been trying to discover Gil-Galad’s parentage. Unless he’s Galadriel’s, we’re pretty sure he had to come from your branch.”

“Another grandson!” Feanor sounds both surprised and delighted, which at least answers the question that Fingon had been trying not to think about having to ask - Namely, if Feanor had been responsible. The timeline had made it unlikely at best, but he’s trying to be thorough. 

“I’d probably best delay testing this until you know more,” Feanor muses. “I’d hate to accidentally wipe a grandson out of existence.”

“Yes. Absolutely. Just - Hold off.” Please, please hold off on potentially destroying the very fabric of Arda. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

Just maybe not until he’s figured out how to make sure Feanor’s focused on the geographical aspect of travel.

He has no idea how long it takes him to find Celegorm, but if anyone asks later, he’s going to tell them weeks. That’s certainly what it feels like. The tunnels here are far less open that most of Mandos’s Halls, and he’s starting to feel claustrophobic. 

He can only imagine what it must be like in the cells.

Celegorm manages to get the first word in because Fingon is too busy gaping at the image on his walls. It’s Huan as he dies, in vivid enough detail that it makes Fingon want to cry out, and he barely knew the hound.

“I don’t know where Maedhros is,” Celegorm says. He’s sitting by Huan’s head. It’s possible that he was petting the cloth just before Fingon showed up; Fingon certainly isn’t going to judge him if he was.

“That’s alright,” Fingon tells him. “I do. He sends his love. I also saw your father, who was very eager for news of all of you.” Fingon leaves out the rest of what Feanor is currently very interested in. He’s not sure he can get through it without his terror showing through, and that could very well start a fight. “If I see any more of your brothers, is there a message I should carry along?”

“Tell them that with practice and application, it is actually possible to climb these walls.”

Fingon blinks. “And this will be . . . useful in an escape attempt?”

“It’ll be useful in not going out of our collective minds,” Celegorm snarls. “There’s no room to move in here.”

Fingon eyes the tiny space and remembers his own growing claustrophobia. “I see your point.” There’s really no way to gracefully segue into this next bit, so he just dives right in. “Remember Gil-Galad?”

Celegorm frowns. “Of course I do. Why? Is he dead?”

“No, thankfully.” Fingon watches him carefully for a reaction to this news, but Celegorm just shrugs.

“Good for him. What about him then?”

“Is he yours?”

Celegorm stares at him for a very long time. “You do remember the whole Luthien incident, don’t you?”

“I think everyone does.”

“Thank you,” he says through gritted teeth. “You might remember that part of that incident involved me trying to get married. So unless you’re suggesting that I succeeded, had him with Luthien, and then somehow invented time travel and sent him back - “

Fingon flinches at the words ‘time travel.’ Thankfully, Celegorm’s in full on ranting mode and doesn’t seem to notice.

His ears are still ringing when he finds his next cousin. “Amras!”

The twin looks up in desperate hope, but the light in his eyes fades quickly. “Amrod,” he corrects.

“Right. Sorry.” He should have just gone with Ambarussa.  

At first glance, the walls in Amrod’s cell look fine. It’s just him and Amras eating a meal together, right after a hunting trip judging by the gear on their horses.

Then he realizes that Amrod’s backed himself up against the image of himself so that it looks like he’s sitting beside Amras, and he has to fight back a wince.

“If I find him, I’ll come back and let you know,” he promises. The corridors he hasn’t taken are still mysteries, but he’s keeping good track of the ones he has. The last thing he wants is to get lost here. He’ll be able to find his way back easily enough.

A bit of the life returns to Amrod’s face. “Would you? I just - It’s not that we were never apart. It’s just never been for this long before.” He looks down for a moment. “Have you seen any of the others? Are they alright?”

“About as well as can be expected,” Fingon says which Amrod, fairly, doesn’t seem to find all that reassuring. “Listen, I don’t suppose you ever - “

The answer, it turns out, is no.

“Amras!” he says with considerable confidence.

“Amrod,” the Feanorian corrects.

Fingon’s jaw dropped in horror. “I’ve circled back around? No, I can’t have, I - Wait a minute. Your wall hangings are a bit different. One of you’s lying,” he concludes triumphantly.

Amras - Amrod - whichever one he is has risen in the interim and crossed to the bars. “You’ve seen him? You’ve seen Amrod?”

“I knew you were Amras,” he mutters petulantly. “Yes, I’ve seen him. He misses you desperately and gave me about a hundred messages to give you. I’ll try to remember them in a minute, but first I’ve got a message of my own.”

“Of course,” Amras says and sets his jaw. “Doriath or the Havens?”

Fingon’s actually doing his best not to think about either of those messes. He’s not king anymore, it’s not his responsibility. “Neither. Gil-Galad.”

“What’d we ever do to him?” Amras protests.

“Created him, possibly. That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“Creat- Like with gears? Because that’s really more along Curufin’s line.”

“Like with a woman,” he says in exasperation.

“Oh. No. I thought that would be a bad idea, what with the Doom and all.”

Fingon can’t exactly argue with that. “Maybe Celebrimbor managed to slip away from his father long enough to meet a girl.”

“Anything’s possible. Have you asked Caranthir yet?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Fingon wheedles. They’re not quite to the end of the line yet - there’s still Maglor and maybe Celebrimbor - but they’re getting close. He’d had a good feeling about Caranthir.

“We tried,” Caranthir says. His voice has an edge of anger, but what’s far stronger is the longing, mixed with grief. “Right up until she died.”

. . . That doesn’t actually rule it out. And if he’s any judge of his cousin, Caranthir would very much like to be a father.

Firien goes on his list of people to track down.

“Maybe he’s Maglor’s,” Caranthir suggests.

“Maglor’s not dead, though, so I can’t ask him.”

Caranthir looks at him like he’s being exceptionally stupid. “Have you tried asking his wife?”

Fingon feels exceptionally stupid. 

“Did Aranel actually fight at Alqualonde, or was she just there?”

“She fought.”

“Right. Then she’s got to be around here somewhere.”

By the time he actually manages to track either of the wives down, Celebrimbor’s died. Despite what Curufin seems to think, Fingon retains enough tact to wait until he’s somewhat recovered to ask him if he’s responsible for Gil-Galad.

He’s not, but he is able to relay a series of increasingly improbable and hilarious theories that are apparently floating around the court.

Then in quick succession, he finds Aranel and Firien and Aredhel finds him.

Aranel’s locked in with the kinslayers and is the first person who’s been less than pleased to see Fingon. 

“Come to lecture me on corrupting my husband?”

Fingon has to take nearly a minute to process this. Finally, the best he can come up with is “What?”

She looks up at him. Her face is set in hard lines of preemptive anger. “That’s what Atar said when Namo let him see me. He said my marring must have corrupted the prince. Maybe even his whole family.”

Maglor used to verbally eviscerate people for saying much, much less. Fingon wants no part of that minefield. He raises his hands in surrender. “I’m not here to blame you for your husband.”

Judging by the way her eyes shutter, that probably still wasn’t the right path to take. Some marriages shattered in the long war; apparently their’s did not.

“I just came to ask about any . . . children.”

“Children?” she repeats blankly. “You mean the Peredhel?”

He’s surprised she knows about that until he takes a closer look at the tapestry. He’d thought it was just Sirion burning, but no. It shows Maglor claiming the twins as well. Apparently someone’s given her context.

“I don’t know why everyone keeps thinking that’s the part I should be most upset about,” she says heatedly. “He defied his Oath when he let them go when it was safe. I’m proud of him, not concerned because he was raising children while I was gone!”

“Not those children,” he corrects, because he’s not about to get in the middle of that whole mess. “I meant any children you might have had with him. Together.”

“Why?” she asks with a slow edge of suspicion.

Fingon explains Gil-Galad.

“What happens if you don’t like the answer you get?”

Fingon honestly hasn’t considered this up to now. “What do you mean?”

“What if he is mine? Is he marred in your eyes? What if he’s not, and he’s not Firien’s either? Is he not worthy of the crown? Why does this matter so much to you?”

“Honestly?” Fingon takes a deep breath. “I’m curious. I don’t have any better reasons. I’m just dead and bored and curious.”

She doesn’t believe him. Fingon can’t quite blame her. She’s been judged her whole life for the circumstances thrust upon her at her birth, and that only worsened after true marring was revealed in Melkor; it’s little wonder she fears the same for Gil-Galad if it turns out he’s not quite as perfect as everyone thought. 

“In that case, you can consider it settled. He’s mine. Mine and Maglor’s.”

Fingon . . . isn’t sure if he believes her. “Why send him to Nargothrond? Why keep him a secret?”

“He was stolen,” she says promptly. “We thought he was dead and had no words to share our grief. I have no idea what happened in his early life. I had no idea where he even was until you explained Gil-Galad’s circumstances. That’s not what I named him.” She reels this off matter of factly with no obvious sign of grief.

Fingon is particularly suspicious of the stolen child part of this story given what she’s been staring at for these past few centuries. “What did you name him?” he challenges her.

“Fingon,” she says instantly. “Because Maglor was so grateful for what you’d done for his brother.”

Fingon is . . . almost certain she’s lying. Almost.

On the other hand, it’s the best explanation anyone’s been able to hand him yet.

He’s still mulling it over in his mind when he emerges back into the Halls proper. Firien immediately comes flying into him. Only her tiny height keeps him from toppling. “You found him!”

“Found who - Oh, Caranthir, yes.”

“You found him too? Can you show me where? And what do you know about my baby?”

He’d forgotten how very little like Caranthir Firien is. Also - 

“Your baby?”

According to Firien, she hadn’t realized their efforts had finally succeeded when she volunteered to go with the trading caravan. By the time she realized, it seemed safest just to continue on. All had been well until the return, when they’d been attacked only minutes after she had given birth. She had died shortly after hiding the baby as best she could.

Her telling is somewhat more convincing than Aranel’s. Then again, she also used to be a performer, so . . . 

Fingon hates his life. Death. Whatever.

Naturally, that’s when Aredhel shows up and announces that Gil-Galad is actually hers.

Her grandson, that is.

According to her, Turgon had pressured Maeglin to marry someone to turn his mind away from Idril. He’d given in and married a girl who’d gotten tired of always coming in second place and run off, apparently while pregnant.

Fingon has no idea if any of that’s true and has no way to check it because Aredhel’s the only one who actually knows where to find Maeglin, he doesn’t have a name for the girl, and Turgon’s already gotten early release for good behavior.

Namo’s been hinting strongly about good behavior lately. Fingon, increasingly convinced that he’s the only reason that his Feanorian cousins are still sane and that his uncle hasn’t gone ahead with his plans to possibly erase them all from existence, cheerfully ignores him.

That’s the short list that at long last he’s able to present Gil-Galad with. If Gil-Galad is in fact part of Finwe’s family tree - and judging by his power and a certain resemblance, Fingon is inclined to think he is - than those are his most likely options.

“Firien’s story is remarkably similar to a theory Elrond came up with,” Gil-Galad says wistfully. “He has an uncanny knack for being right about things, you know.” He sighs.

“Cheer up,” Fingon tells him. “Like I said, we can always pester Namo into telling us eventually. Or you might feel something when you meet them! And really it’s only two options since we know Aranel has to be lying since she claimed to actually name you . . . Although Maglor probably wouldn’t mind claiming you, given his track record, so we could always just pretend you were and go with it.”

“No,” Gil-Galad says firmly. “I want to know the truth.”

“Let’s start with the ones we won’t have to sneak you in for then, and then I can introduce you to the rest of the family.” 

Fingon’s money’s on Caranthir.

. . . Which means Feanor will now feel free to resume his experiments.

Oh, well. He hasn’t gotten this far by being cautious. How badly could it possibly go wrong?

Fingon shuts that thought down quickly and drags Gil-Galad through the Halls to Firien, who takes one look at Gil-Galad and throws herself at him, wrapping him in the tightest hug she can manage, even though her head barely comes up to his chin.

She’s crying. Gil-Galad, who’s holding her like she something fragile, looks like he might start.

Fingon feels a bit like crying too.

[yellow-faerie]

There was vague interest in this @carlandrea @electroniccollectiondonut so:

1)

Basically, I saw some Mairon/Sauron fanart on my dash and thought...you know what would be really cool? If at Dagor Dagorath, Sauron regretted everything (because it all feels pointless now that the world is at its end) and he ends up singing himself back to near the very beginning and what ensues is a) Melkor being very confused at this one Maia who appears to be seducing him probably?? b) Aulë and his other Maiar being confused because Mairon has gone from being this smooth talking workaholic to the grumpiest man alive as no-one is scared of him now :( and c) Sauron/Mairon is out here causing chaos on purpose to try and stop Melkor when the whole seduce him out of it plan doesn't work as quickly as he likes.

It's vague but I think it would be interesting and maybe I'll write it?

2)

The second kinda developed from that au as I was thinking about various minstrels and how maybe they (as a collective) would be able to sing the world back of they wanted. And so I was like: Maglor and Daeron, journey back in time.

But like, to when they're kids and they're on the wrong side of the ocean to each other. Maglor gives Fëanor and Nerdanel even more parenting headaches (he gets nightmares a lot and everyone's like prophecy??? And he gets taken to Lórien a lot - and some of his brothers are a little jealous he's getting do much attention from their parents). Everyone brushes Daeron's off as being the child of a Maia (since I like to Daeron, son of Melian and Thingol) and he gets a good deal more done because Melian works out what had really happened.

I didn't get much further than this for this one because I was then like...what other time travel would be interesting?

And came to the conclusion of:

3) Nerdanel, Anairë and Eärwen travelling back to the Age of the Trees from the end of the first age but ending up in Beleriand and becoming cryptids in a cave somewhere, dispensing wisdom and "prophecy" (although later this is actual prophecy because Eärwen gets blessed by Eru). I think Nerdanel would hunt down her sons at some point and even tho they don't recognise her as their mother, she manages to slap some sense into them (/tell them the oath has no hold over them and gaslights them out of *that*)

4) Túrin time loop au - every time he dies, he goes back to a few days before when Lalaith comes down with her illness until he eventually manages to save everyone in some capacity (which takes a lot of effort as you can probably imagine)

5) A timeloop where Elwing and Maedhros (and possibly Maglor as well, depends on the vibes) are trapped in a time loop together over the third kinslaying until Maedhros manages to not do the kinslaying (of course, this does have the issue of the Silmaril but I'm tempted by "chucked-in-the-ocean by Elwing by ways of a truce and it ends up with Eärendil that way, as much as I love bird Elwing")

Then my mind just devolved into bitty pieces of vague time travel so....

Not me coming up with LotR/Silm time travel aus while I should be going to sleep...

[eri-pl]

@edennill I just had an… well, not epiphany because it's not theological, but an insight or something. Tagging, you, because a) it may be interesting b) you often wonder (in frustration, I think) why do people make so much fanart of the bad guys. (Tagiing you doesn't mean the later rhetorical "you" is you. It's a different you. Huh. Maybe we should start using "thee", it would make things easier.

Why do we deny canon characteristics of characters?

(long post below cut, no triggers, kind of fandom discourse-related but tries to empathise with both sides?)

(It's rhetorical "we", I am trying to not do it. But I'm 40 and got many things sorted out. Probably still do it anyway, esp around kidnap fam)

Imagine: you suffer. You read about a character that suffers in the exact same way, or at least a way that rings a bell in your heart.

This is you.

So you love them, you try to defend them, they didn't deserve it — you didn't deserve it — extept it turns out they kind of did deserve it. And all the unsaid accusations you felt from people — well turns out for the character they're true. So are they true about you?

Of course it would be most natural to unlink yourself from the character, but that's not how human brain works. also, unlinking it would be very painful and take a lot of time and effort (and still may not work) and often feels like betraying yourself.

So you fight. For your dignity.

So you fight against people correcting you with things that are actually in the book.

…I legit think it's how it works usually. (Of course, echo chambers and unwillingness to factcheck are a thing too, depends on the person probably.)

So when we engage with someone speaking about their beloved character and it's OoC — there are, at least partially, speaking of a part of themselves. And, while it's technically true, telling someone "a part of you commited [insert a Silm-typical deed here] is very painful.

(Aaaand now the rhetorical "you" is again my friend Edennill, because I can't into rhetorics…) When you engage with someone hyping about Sauron, there are two three Saurons in the conversation: yours (obvious. the Númenor stuff and all other stuff), canon (very similar, maybe with more focus on other evil stuff and not Númenor on top position, idk, anyway close), and theirs (a child who wwas told too many times that they are unforgiveable, or something like that + also has flaming hair and cool ring).

What to do with it? I have no idea what to do with it, except the obvious.

I'm looking for ideas.

And yes, people do project on the good characters too, and criticizing those characters hurts in the same way, only it's also factually false (usually, because not all characters are black and white). I know. I don't mean to say that the "good guys" are ok to criticize and the "bad guys" not, or that book canon should be not spoken about.

Maybe the answer is just "don't hate characters to their fans"? (Facts and hate aren't the same, but with facts, there's still a need for compassion and getting a feel when to say what)

Truth is an important thing. Yes. Truth about what's in a book…. still it is a thing worth saying. Especially when the book is as good (even with it's problems and kitchen sinks) as Silm is. But as I said, empathy or something is needed?

IDK, I'm still figuring it out.

I think I've kind of know this for a long time, half-consciously, but today I had a moment when something clicked and things started making much more sense. Like: why people do have takes that are so far from canon and still call the character the same character. It does make sense in the contaxt...

(Also, no: I'm not like that with Melkor, I'm much more aware of my stuff and of what's canon and what not and I can switch between perspectives… But as I said, I'm old. It comes with some amount of wisdom. Funnily I can deal much better with people hating him than hating Maglor. But I can deal with people hating Maglor (filtering too counts as "deal with" ;D) and I can admit all the stuff he did in the book and that he's a coward, and all that (relateable). I just feel sad when people say he deserves all the worst.)