Learning to Live in the Dark by Himring

| | |

Fanwork Notes

Fanwork Information

Summary:

After the death of Feanor, Celebrimbor confronts Maedhros about the Oath.

Major Characters: Celebrimbor, Maedhros, Maglor, Sons of Fëanor

Major Relationships:

Genre: General

Challenges:

Rating: Teens

Warnings: Character Death, Mature Themes

This fanwork belongs to the series

Chapters: 1 Word Count: 1, 051
Posted on 30 January 2013 Updated on 30 January 2013

This fanwork is complete.

Chapter 1

Read Chapter 1

 

Feanor is dead. His ashes blow away on the wind.

His sons are Noldor—and therefore, although their ultimate goals may be foolhardy, over-ambitious, in their immediate concerns they are intensely practical. They withdraw their people to a safer distance from the battlefield. They set up camp in a secure location and draw up a guard rota. They do all this in close collaboration with each other, efficiently and pragmatically.

It is only when all these matters have been dealt with and when all the immediately necessary things have been done that, as abruptly as if someone had untied the string around a bundle of arrows and with a sudden movement wrenched it away, scattering arrows in all directions, the Sons of Feanor drift apart. Without any discussion or explanation, without a spoken word, every single one of them goes off on his own. Even Amras and Amrod, the twins, are seen leaving separately, going their own way.

It is a retreat. But in truth there is no place to retreat to.

***

To Maedhros who is sitting nowhere in particular—under the open sky, which nevertheless seems lowering, close and oppressive—and who appears to be doing nothing, comes Celebrimbor, son of his brother Curufin.

‘Father threw me out of his tent’, he announces.

Maedhros does not answer, but shifts a little, assuming a listening attitude.

‘But I couldn’t not say it! He was my grandfather and I loved him, too! But I was there in Araman, and I heard what Mandos prophesied. And I was there when he made you all swear the selfsame oath once again. He knew you could not carry it out! He couldn’t help knowing. And he did, I saw he did! You must have seen it, too…’

‘Tyelpo’, says Maedhros.

Celebrimbor stops, feeling the breath knocked out of him as if he had run full tilt against a wall.

Maedhros shifts to face him more fully.

‘Tyelpo, is our grandfather any less dead since our father died?’

‘No but…’

‘Has Melkor acquired a right to the silmarils during the last hours?’

‘No.’

‘Do these lands not need to be defended from Angband any more?’

‘No…’

‘If something requires doing is the fact that it probably cannot be done a reason not to try?’

‘But…’

‘I’m sorry, Tyelpo’, says Maedhros politely, ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to throw you out, too.’

There is, in fact, nowhere to throw Celebrimbor out of as they are out in the open. For a moment, Celebrimbor is almost tempted to point it out. Only such a short time ago, in Valinor, it was interesting to speculate what would happen when Uncle Maitimo’s legendary patience finally wore out. But now Celebrimbor finds he doesn’t want to know any more. He clamps his mouth shut and leaves.

***

Maedhros goes on sitting there immovably for a while. Then he gets up and goes looking for Maglor.

He finds Maglor mistreating his harp. He is crouching beside it and keeps striking a single dissonant chord at regular intervals. It is a deep, ugly, violent sound and he must have been doing it for a while for he has everyone in earshot well trained by now: they are all flinching as his hand strikes the chord, before the sound reaches their ears.

Maedhros sits right next to him and listens to him for a while.

Then he says: ‘Makalaure.’

Maglor does not react and goes on striking his chord.

‘Makalaure’, repeats Maedhros and goes on, ‘if you are made to swear an oath a second time that was meant to be unbreakable in the first place, does it make the oath more unbreakable or less so?’

Maglor does not answer, but abruptly switches from the lowest strings to the highest and continues playing—if what he is doing can be called playing an instrument. The new chord, equally dissonant, produces a high-pitched shrieking effect. Everyone around Maglor continues flinching periodically except for Maedhros, who listens intently as before.

After a while, Maedhros says: ‘He didn’t trust us all that much, did he?’

Maglor lifts his hand and drops it on the strings and for a while they sit there, side-by-side, Maglor crouching exhaustedly beside his harp.

***

Eventually, they reassemble. Almost silently, they come drifting back from the periphery to the centre of the camp until finally they are seven again. Unexpectedly, Curufin and Celegorm return together, as if the affections that used to divide them have polarized and work to unite them, now that their father is dead.

It is still dark. It is always dark now. Maedhros, standing among his brothers, tallest and eldest, wonders how much of what has happened has to do with that darkness. Would they have been so ready to swear the Oath, to steal ships and to kill Teleri for them, to burn the stolen ships and betray their kin, if it had not been for the unaccustomed dark?

Feanor, of course, would have vehemently denied that the sudden withdrawal of light had anything to do with his decisions. But Feanor, however perceptive he could be with regard to others, often seemed to have a blind spot with regard to his own actions and motivations. And gradually that blind spot grew, until more and more it skewed his judgement of others…

It is not that darkness intrinsically and inevitably leads to extreme actions, thinks Maedhros, for the Sindar have been living in darkness under the stars all along and, although their customs might be strange and unfamiliar, they are clearly no more prone to sudden acts of violence than the Quendi of Valinor. It is the lack of light after being used to it that the mind finds difficult to deal with. He can feel it affecting his own thoughts and emotions, even now, although considerable time has passed since the Light of the Trees was extinguished. But if the Sindar have learnt to live in the dark, so can they.

‘No more mistakes now,’ thinks Maedhros, looking at his brothers, his responsibility now, ‘we cannot afford another mistake.’

***

Feanor is dead. He is dead. You can argue endlessly with the dead but it is only you who will run out of breath. You can plead with the dead but they cannot yield—and you know it.

Triple-locked, the Oath snicks shut...


Comments

The Silmarillion Writers' Guild is more than just an archive--we are a community! If you enjoy a fanwork or enjoy a creator's work, please consider letting them know in a comment.


Hi Himring.  The title was quite evocative and caused me to want to read on.  I never thought much about the moment that all Feanor's sons scattered to the wind and why, so that is an interesting point to explore.  The piece really took off for me with this part: He finds Maglor mistreating his harp. He is crouching beside it and keeps striking a single dissonant chord at regular intervals. It is a deep, ugly, violent sound.  That in a single beautiful auditory soundbite (so to speak) tells the whole situation about how Maglor feels and how conflicted he is -- better than a lot of dialogue would. And he finds Maglor mistreating his harp is a great line.   The line about the second oath:‘He didn’t trust us all that much, did he?’ was an aha revelation to me. I like the last lines in italics too.  Feanor is dead and the triple-locked oath.  You bring huge insight into the whole mess, making it feel realistic, convincing, and the tragedy to come inevitable -- even though we want to close our eyes and hope it will somehow turn out all right.  Great start.

This is great.

I love this part:

<i>‘If something requires doing is the fact that it probably cannot be done a reason not to try?’

‘But…’

‘I’m sorry, Tyelpo’, says Maedhros politely, ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to throw you out, too.’</i>

Also, this is wild:

<i>After a while, Maedhros says: ‘He didn’t trust us all that much, did he?’</i>

No. He did not. That is why I love these guys so much.

Maglor's ugly dissonant chords! Heavy metal Maglor!

You've got this knack of making me fidget, and prickle uncomfortably - Maedhros seems truly, as you say,  locked into it, but almost unwilling to look for escape. His logic is supreme. He does not seem to grieve, as if it is beyond him and that image of Maglor plucking a dissonat, screeching note symbolises how the whole thing is just wrong - Feanor is dead and it is wrong, they feel the dissonance but Maedhros brings them back.  Steel yes, but you make him so much more. Terrifically good writing.

 

 

This whole situation after Feanors death describes their realtionship to their father in a perfect way.

if you are made to swear an oath a second time that was meant to be unbreakable in the first place, does it make the oath more unbreakable or less so?’

Celebrimbor seems to have cut in the sorest wound with his questions, and Maedhros answers to him are as well a try to confirm himself, I feel.

The final statement  of Maedhros condemns Feanor really to hell....

He didn’t trust us all that much, did he?’

And Maglor, stopping to play, agreed by this.

Another fault Feanor could be blamed of, that he always played off all of his sons against each other They always had to EARN his love, and nobody fought more than Celegorm and Curufin, but now, he is dead this puts them close together.

Unexpectedly, Curufin and Celegorm return together, as if the affections that used to divide them have polarized and work to unite them, now that their father is dead.

Even Maglor, the most gentle, * mistreats* his beloved harp and utters his protest in playing *violent* tunes.

The Ambarussa, seen by their mother as one, and had left gone not to be divided, were at last so ( even if you don't take the plot of one of them burnt with he ships), for the reason for them to part, Feanor, is gone.

Even Amras and Amrod, the twins, are seen leaving separately, going their own way.

 

 

 

Sorry , my tablet decided to stop my review, before I was finished ;//

Somehow the whole campaign has lost its real sense, to follow their father, and maybe gain his affection. 

It is the lack of light after being used to it that the mind finds difficult to deal with

As long, as their father was alive, there was no room for own mind and thought, but now is, but now they are determed to follow this way, the way planned by the oath...

Maedhros realises this very clearly, but, in opposite to his father, he won' t abuse his leader ( father) role.

‘No more mistakes now,’ thinks Maedhros, looking at his brothers, his responsibility now, ‘we cannot afford another mistake.’

Maybe they would have been able to break the oath, if their father would have given in in some way, but now, that he is dead, this possibilty is gone forever, so 

Triple-locked, the Oath snicks shut...

Oh, god, I really hate Feanor, for what he did to bis sons, even if you find some excuse for him.

But Feanor, however perceptive he could be with regard to others, often seemed to have a blind spot with regard to his own actions and motivations. And gradually that blind spot grew, until more and more it skewed his judgement of others…

But to have his sons receite this oath again, not in hot temper, but full aware of the consequences for his own children , that is for me more cruel, than everything his sons did after!!!

 

I can forgive the kinslaying, maybe, to a certain degree, but this? Never!