Excerpt: Winter was chasing hard on the heels of autumn, the golden leaf-fall rapidly browning as the boughs of the trees thinned towards dormancy. It was during this time, when the mornings had become brisk and the nights uncomfortably cold that Maglor Feanorion came upon Daeron of Doriath the second time.
The lord of Amon Ereb held still and silent while Maglor pushed in the needles. It was one of the few personal tasks with which Maedhros still trusted another, and Maglor suspected this was simply because he was incapable of doing it himself. The acupuncture was meant to stimulate blood flow, and lessen the stiffness and pain in Maedhros’ right shoulder.
Maglor couldn’t say if it did.
One needle he jabbed in particularly roughly and Maedhros twitched and flexed his shoulder, and so Maglor stuck the next one in still more aggressively.
“You are not doing it correctly,” said Maedhros, by which Maglor knew he meant that hurts.
“I follow the diagram,” said Maglor, savagely flicking one of the needles. Ideally, it would create a “localized sensation,” but it was not intended to escalate to true pain, if it was done properly.
“You don’t even look on it,” Maedhros snapped.
“How would you know on what I look? I stand behind you.” Maglor stabbed another needle into Maedhros’ shoulder, nearly scraping down to bone.
“It’s on the desk,” Maedhros snarled, gesturing across the room.
“I remember it,” said Maglor, flicking another needle so that Maedhros let out a sharp intake of breath. His restraint was enraging, and Maglor flicked another needle harder, and harder, and harder and when this did not force Maedhros to break composure and cry out, he thrust in another needle along his spine with such violence that Maedhros whipped around, grabbing for his wrist.
“Enough!”
For a moment they grappled and then Maedhros rose and threw his brother to the floor where Maglor hit the wood hard and lay still, breathing heavily through his nose.
“Have you something to say, Kanafinwë?” Maedhros asked.
The acid which bubbled up in Maglor’s throat choked him; the poison of it clogged up his veins, his lungs, his stomach; it spread out through his body and withered him from the inside: he trembled, and glared.
Maedhros would strangle him and demand his obedience even as he did it.
“Get out of my room,” said Maedhros. When Maglor did not move, he said again: “Get out,” and Maglor looked into a darker fire than ever he had seen in the eyes of their father, and rising to his feet, he took his bitter leave. On AO3 | On tumblr | On SWG
Hey, were you the one who posted how Maglor himself thought the oath and kinslayings were such evil acts? If so, how come there are those who still believe the second and third kinslaying is justified when Maglor himself thought it to be such an evil deed? I really need like a solid reasoning cause I was talking to someone who still believes the kinslayings were justified/needed and doesn't take my "murder is wrong" thing as a reason lol
I said:
That was indeed my post! If we’re thinking of the same one. I’ve definitely made a post like that.
I mean I don’t really know what to say besides “murder is wrong” lol If we can’t agree on that um. I don’t really know where we go.
The argument in favor of the kinslayings that I’ve seen usually boils down to property rights. Because the Silmarils are the rightful (and that’s honestly debatable) property of the Feanorians, anyone who keeps the Silmarils from them deserves what they get, basically.
Which is. Kind of bonkers as a moral philosophy, even if you DO buy that the Feanorians have an uncontested right to the Silmarils. #1: We’re punishing theft or conversion with DEATH now? That’s acceptable to us? #2: The harm the Feanorians caused went far beyond the individual who possessed the Silmaril (Dior in the Second Kinslaying and Elwing in the Third). Even if Dior had taken that Silmaril right out of Maedhros’ hand and spit in his eye on the way out it wouldn’t justify the wholesale slaughter of an entire kingdom. They literally murdered children over things. Items. Stuff. Magical cool stuff yeah–but they valued it over lives. Does anyone honestly think Tolkien would have written a story agreeing with that as a moral view?
“If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.” (Thorin’s final words,The Hobbit)
I don’t know how you look at Maedhros and Maglor–the ONLY two of SEVEN sons to survive through the Third Kinslaying–and think THEY think they did the right thing. Five of their brothers have now died in assaults on other Elves which they began. Maglor argues for breaking the oath there, he resists Maedhros’ drive to the Fourth Kinslaying (until he doesn’t), and at the end of it all, he throws his precious Silmaril into the sea. Maedhros kills himself over it. These are not the actions of people who feel GOOD about where their lives have gone and the actions they’ve taken. Tolkien is so blatantly obvious about the Feanorians being in the wrong it’s always a little wild to me that the KINSLAYINGS get defended.
On the note of the Fourth Kinslaying, let’s not forget that: That after everything, after the War of Wrath is over and everyone is ready to go home and see their families and be at peace, a whole group of Elves get murdered by Maglor and Maedhros again over the Silmarils. A group–Eonwe’s guard–of people who had survived a war with MORGOTH die because Maedhros and Maglor weren’t willing to break their oath.
An oath which Tolkien casts as wicked from the very start–something that was always likely to bring them to evil acts.
“Then Feanor swore a terrible oath. His seven sons leapt straightway to his side and took the selfsame vow together, and red as blood shone their drawn swords…and many quailed to hear the dread words.” (“Of the Flight of the Noldor,”The Silmarillion)
Furthermore, as Dior points out in some versions outside Silm proper, at the time the Second Kinslaying is committed, Melkor still has two of the Silmarils. Even if Dior had handed over Luthien’s Silmaril–to the people who had kidnapped and attempted to forcibly marry and presumably rape his mom; and also tried to murder her and his father later on–the oath is still not fulfilled, because Melkor has two.
The fact that the Feanorians choose to pursue Luthien’s Silmaril with violence and bloodshed rather than make a go at the two that Melkor has has always revealed their hypocrisy to me. They chose Luthien’s Silmaril because they knew it would be easier to get than the ones that Melkor has. Easier to kill other Elves if they don’t give you what you want, than to attack or infiltrate Angband. Even now, when they know it’s possible–because Beren and Luthien did it, and they had FAR fewer resources at hand than the Feanorians (and for the record, Fingon also successfully infiltrated Angband; Gwindor and others have successfully escaped from Angband)–they choose to slay other Elves instead. Say again the Second Kinslaying was “necessary”?
This is how Tolkien describes the attack on the Havens:
“And so there came to pass the last and cruelest of the slayings of Elf by Elf; and that was the third of the great wrongs achieved by the accursed oath.
For the sons of Feanor that yet lived came down suddenly upon the exiles of Gondolin and the remnant of Doriath, and destroyed them.” (“Of the Voyage of Earendil,”The Silmarillion)
Does this description sound like people taking justified action? And let’s not forget, in this battle, the Feanorians’ own troops are so horrified by their actions that they turn against them.
“In that battle some of their [the Feanorians’] people stood aside, and some few rebelled and were slain upon the other part aiding Elwing against their own lords…Too late the ships of Cirdan and Gil-galad the High King came hasting to the aid of the Elves of Sirion; and Elwing was gone, and her sons.” (“Of the Voyage of Earendil,”The Silmarillion)
Members of the Feanorians’ own people find their actions so terrible they cannot simply join those who stand by and refuse to attack the Havens, but they actively join the fight on the side of the Havens. Moreover, the heroic Gil-galad arrives intending to stop the Feanorians and aid the Havens. Sure, he arrives too late–but his intent is made clear: the Feanorians are the villains here, who need to be stopped.
And I don’t think it is uncontested that the Silmarils belong to the Feanorians. For one, they were created entirely and only by Feanor; none of his sons had anything to do with it. And for two, the universe itself has deemed by the end that the Feanorians no longer have a property right in them, when the Silmarils burn the hands of Maedhros and Maglor because of all the evil they’ve committed. The jewels themselves will not be touched by these people who have done so much wrong. Eonwe tries to warn them about this before they even commit the Fourth Kinslaying.
“And they [Maedhros and Maglor] sent a message therefore to Eonwe, bidding him yield up those jewels…But Eonwe answered that the right to the work of their father, which the sons of Feanor had formerly possessed, had now perished, because of their many and merciless deeds, being blinded by their oath, andmost of all because of their slaying of Dior and the assault upon the Havens.” (“Of the Voyage of Earendil,” The Silmarillion [emphasis added])
Like…I don’t know how the book could be more clear that the Kinslayings were wrong and that Maedhros and Maglor were in the wrong.
I think fans are so invested in the Feanorians they’re willing to bend over backwards to find some view where they didn’t actually commit horrific war crimes and were in fact in the right. But that’s just not the story Tolkien wrote. Also, you can like them and still admit they did horrible things. You are allowed to like characters who are in the wrong!
“Why don’t you go ahead and cut it, Nelyafinwë?” Grandfather gestured to the little almond cake he had set on the kitchen island. He had brought it back from Valmar, which made it a relative treat; it was unlike the many other sweets they often had at beck and call. Father rarely had cause to be up in Valmar unless he was lecturing, and he did not usually bring the children along when he did, nor was he one for showering them with gifts unnecessarily.
Maedhros took the knife, with Maglor watching intently (as much as he could when he could barely see the surface of the counter from his height), and cut the cake less 50/50 and more 75/25. He set the knife down and looked satisfied.
“Why have you chosen to cut it this way?” Finwë asked patiently.
Anticipating this question, Maedhros clasped his hands behind his back and answered smartly, “I am bigger than Kanafinwë. I should have a bigger piece. I have made them proportional.” The small smile on his face was nothing if not smug.
“Interesting logic,” said Finwë, nodding. He looked to Maglor, who was scowling, screwing his round little face up in preparation to start bawling, something sure to ruin the morning of everyone within earshot—which was to say the entire house. “Kanafinwë, why don’t you choose your half first?”
Maglor, ecstatic at this unexpected change of fortune, promptly swiped the much larger piece of cake and danced out of Maedhros’ reach, stuffing a massive bite of it into his mouth at once. He grinned around his full cheeks at Maedhros, who had a moment of shock, which was quickly overcome with chagrin. Ruefully, he picked up his much smaller piece of cake.
“You didn’t say you were going to do it that way, Grandfather,” he said, his voice bordering on sullen.
“Would you have cut it differently if I had?” Finwë asked. “Closer to even, perhaps?” Maedhros’ expression descended into sulking as he realized he had played exactly into Finwë’s game. “Perhaps next time you will consider things from another perspective,” Finwë suggested. Then his expression grew more serious. “As your father’s heir, and a chief representative of this house and of the Noldor, you must act always with fairness and equanimity,” he said. “Even where you desire to obtain for yourself preferential treatment. Kanafinwë is your brother, and inclined, I imagine, to forgive you the occasional bout of selfishness. But others will be less so inclined.”
Maedhros frowned and nibbled at his piece of cake. Maglor, checking first to make sure Grandfather was watching him, broke off a miniscule piece of his own and held it up with crumby fingers.
“Do you want some of mine, Nelyo?” he asked, sweet as sugar, the darling model of a generous Noldorin prince. Maedhros sighed and shook his head.
“No,” he said in a long-suffering voice, “it’s yours.”
Maglor did not offer twice, but skipped out, trailing crumbs across the hallway floor and trying to hum with his mouth full, which did not much improve the situation. Grandfather squeezed Maedhros’ shoulder on their way out of the kitchen and Maedhros sighed again.
“It seems there are a great many lessons for a prince to learn,” he remarked to Grandfather, who smiled.
“Indeed there are,” he said. “But for one thing you should be grateful, Nelyafinwë.”
“What is that, Grandfather?”
“This lesson came with cake!” And Maedhros could not argue much with that.
Summary: Maglor, who earned her place in Mirkwood serving in defense of the realm, has a plan for alleviating the queen's stress, and naturally it involves a great many jewels.
Length: 5.6k
AN:Fill for this kink meme prompt for the Noldor and their jewelry kink. See AO3 or SWG for a bonus poem.
Maglor tilted her head to the left until the earring nearly lay flat against the side of her neck in the mirror. Then, she tilted her head to the right. Too much? She took the polished wood and rat-bone earrings out, then decided that was not enough, and put them back in. She scrutinized the kohl she had put around her eyes. She squinted at the necklaces layered onto her bare bosom. She felt her foot growing numb under her naked ass.
Summary: All is not as it seems when Thranduil enters the ancestral Feanorian estate, but he fails to fully comprehend the scale and nature of the risk. If he's very lucky, one day he might even get to leave.
OR: Marrying into the House of Feanor comes with the skeletons in the closet.
Response to this ask addressing why this person views Luthien and her line as thieves of the Silmaril.
If you're interested in other more detailed explorations of Elwing and her motivations, definitely check out my Elwing meta tag, because others on on tumblr have done some great work there.
The point I think the other anon was making about the swan ships is that fans can be very quick to condemn Luthien and her descendants as "thieves" of the Silmarils, but say nothing about the Feanorians' theft of the swan ships. No, the events aren't related, but one is a much clearer-cut case of theft than the other, yet it's the one that's swept under the rug to attack those who stand in opposition to the sons of Feanor (SoF). But you're right, it's not relevant to discussing Dior and Elwing in relation to the SoF.
Luthien and Beren, at great personal risk, obtained a Silmaril from Morgoth. I think it's relevant to note that at this point, the SoF appeared to have no problem with Luthien having possession of the Silmaril. In fact, Maedhros takes heart from their success and by it is inspired to begin his efforts which culminate in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.
First, let's recall Luthien's history with the Feanorians at the point that she and Beren depart Doriath after Beren is restored to life:
Answer to this ask about the portrayal of Earendil and Elwing as parents.
I was stunned to come into this fandom after finishing the book and find out that Elwing and Earendil are controversial characters. Headcanons and AUs all you want, but the book makes it very clear they are heroes and Tolkien portrays them as heroes (albeit tragic ones)--Earendil slaying Ancalagon and Elwing convincing the Teleri to aid the war effort is more proof of that.
The Feanorians are the closest thing we have to true protagonists in the book and they're fan favorites, so there's a tendency to see other characters (Turgon, Thingol, Dior, Elwing, etc.) through the lens of how well the Feanorians like them or get along with them. If a character has conflict with the Feanorians, they're likely to get the villain treatment in certain circles of the fandom no matter how reasonable their actions were.
Above the cut I'm just going to link here to my tag for Elwing metas from other people.
Go upstairs and wait, she’d said, so Maglor was kneeling on the freshly waxed floor of the upstairs bedroom, having been there long enough to be shifting his weight as much from discomfort as excitement. The spaces between the boards dug into his knees as he watched the doorway for Vanimiel’s entrance, and strained his ears for any sound of her coming up the stairs. The house was damningly quiet.
Request for meadowlarkx on tumblr for a kiss "after a small rejection"
Excerpt:
When first Maglor Feanorian had stumbled into their wood, many had been certain that their one-time Doriathrim king would have him put to the blade, and for some months it seemed Thranduil intended to do so.
Today I want to talk about something that I think doesn’t get a lot of attention in the fandom, and that’s the role of the Silmaril in the success of Earendil’s journey, without which it’s strongly implied he and Elwing would not have succeeded in reaching Aman to get help for Middle-earth.
We know that Earendil purposed to reach Aman, despite being only half-Elven, and get help there for Middle-earth in the war with Melkor:
“....and he thought to find perhaps the last shore, and bring ere he died the message of Elves and Men to the Valar in the West, that should move their hearts to pity for the sorrows of Middle-earth.”
We know that he makes at least one journey to this effect, but is eventually turned back in failure:
“Eärendil found not Tuor nor Idril, nor came he ever on that journey to the shores of Valinor, defeated by shadows and enchantment, driven by repelling winds, untilin longing for Elwing he turned homeward...”
So we know that he’s on at least his second attempt during the Third Kinslaying when Elwing, after being transformed by Ulmo, flies out to Vingilot. At this point, Earendil sees there is no hope for Middle-earth without the intercession of the Valar, that all the peoples of Middle-earth will be brought under Melkor’s thrall without aid, and he makes the difficult decision to continue the search for Aman, rather than turning back home.
”Yet Eärendil saw now no hope left in the lands of Middle-earth, and he turned again in despair and came not home, but sought back once more to Valinor with Elwing at his side. He stood now most often at the prow of Vingilot, and the Silmaril was bound upon his brow; and ever its light grew greater as they drew into the West.”
The transfer of the Silmaril from Elwing to Earendil is so unremarkable it doesn’t even get its own sentence--we simply know that Elwing has it and then we see that Earendil has it, marking one of the only times the Silmaril is freely transferred from one person to another.
But it’s more than that:
“And the wise have said that it was by reason of the power of that holy jewel [the Silmaril] that they came in time to waters that no vessels save those of the Teleri had known; and they came to the Enchanted Isles and escaped their enchantment; and they came into the Shadowy Seas and passed their shadows; and they looked upon Tol Eressea the Lonely Isle, but tarried not, and at last they cast anchor in the Bay of Eldammar...”
This is critical: the text here heavily implies that but for the Silmaril, they would not have been able to reach Valinor. Note how this passage parallels the description of Earendil’s first attempt--there he was “defeated by shadows and enchantment” and “in longing for Elwing” turned home, but here, with the Silmaril, Earendil and Elwing pass safely through the Enchanted Isles, the Shadowy Seas, and the Lonely Isle, strongly suggesting that they overcome Earendil’s past defeats because they have the Silmaril. Neither of them is fully Elven, neither of them should be able to reach Aman at all. Even Turgon’s sailors were unable to do it, and none of them had a drop of mortal blood.
Earendil and Elwing’s goal has been to get help for Middle-earth in the war with Melkor. They see that Middle-earth cannot win without help and therefore it’s only a matter of time before Melkor wears the whole continent down. Middle-earth has put up a good fight, but they’ve only managed to slow the inevitable. Earendil and Elwing’s failure to obtain the intercession of the Valar and the aid of the Amanyar would have been devastating--perhaps fatal--for the survival of Middle-earth.
Ergo, if Maedhros and Maglor had successfully taken the Silmaril from Elwing, or if she had handed it over to them, it would likely have secured Melkor’s victory over Middle-earth by ensuring none of them were ever able to reach Aman, once again turning the Oath to Melkor’s aid. That Elwing delivered the Silmaril to Earendil and that they made the painful decision not to return home and seek out their captive sons, but instead to press on with the quest for Aman were absolutely critical to the survival of Middle-earth and all the people in it. If they had done differently, all Middle-earth might have perished for it.
* All quotes from the Of the Voyage of Earendil and the War of Wrath chapter of The Silmarillion.
I saw some other posts looking to spread fandom positivity so I thought I would do it also <3
1. Second Music of the Ainur. This fanart by navyinks is absolutely GORGEOUS. She now has my preferred Daeron design and the beauty and drama of this piece is just stunning. Fantastic work (along with her other stuff as well!)
2. Better a Holy Discord. Wonderful take on the Valar by clothono and such engaging prose! I've loved this author's work in the past (huge shout-out to The One With All the Birds, my favorite Elwing fic of all time!) and this one definitely does not disappoint.
3. Elwing's Worst Nightmare. Anattmar's works are always breathtaking and she captures so well the Doriathrin perspective on the Maedhros. This piece evokes such a visceral fear response, truly amazing work!
4. A King is He That Can Hold His Own. This fanfic by iddump is a response to a kink meme prompt and I am frankly astounded by what this author has managed to do with it. Maedhros/Thingol is not a ship that comes up much in this fandom, but this author makes it intensely compelling with plenty of hot sex too.
5. Thingol. I could honestly pick any of Noldorinpainter's Thingol artworks because they're all fabulous. And such a unique style!
6. Little Tenderness. Batshape is another author with generally excellent works, but I lose my shit over this Feanor/Nerdanel Formenos piece. It has all the love and angst and gender dynamics I could want out of Feanel and is one of the few fanfics I've re-read.
7. Fingolfin in Beleriand. This is my mental image of Fingolfin now and I will never change it.
"The tasks that kept Maglor alive had become so rote over the years that he often did not recall performing them; he simply looked over and noticed the water skins were full or there were skinned rabbits hanging from the rack. Elves were meant to be of Arda, but Maglor wandered far; the dark and distant places in which his mind dwelled were bleak and terrifying to him, but familiar, as the caress of a jailer. At such times as he found himself aware and observed the beauty of Middle-earth it was with the skittish guilt of one who might be caught stealing.
“Yes, I heard what you said,” Nerdanel said, as though she were speaking to a particularly dim dog. “There is no upcoming exit.” She waved along the right side of the freeway.
“There, on the left,” Fëanor replied, pointing.
“Left?” Nerdanel screeched. “Exit left? You’re mentioning that now?”
Summary: The Feanorians had not looked for their Exile kin, and had expected no reunion. When Nolofinwe arrives in Middle-earth, they must determine if he has come as friend or foe.
AN: Once again I @meadowlarkx for the inspiration on this. She has some great angsty Maglor headcanons and we had a fun talk about awkward Finwean family reunions.
Three sets of eyes stared uncomprehendingly at the messenger.
“What?” Celegorm said at last.
“It is Prince Nolofinwë Arakáno. Not Orcs.”
Caranthir looked over at Maglor, who had moved his gaze from the scouts to stare blankly at the center of the table as though in its irregular whorls he might divine some celestial guidance. Celegorm leaned his back against the wall, twisting the point of his pocket knife against the callous on his thumb.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
