The Life and Times of Maedhros by MaedhrosFeanorian

The Oath

Age of the Trees, 1495

I write this with a heart of dark flame.  Melkor the accursed returned today, and nothing but darkness and sorrow followed in his wake.  Atar has named him Morgoth, Dark Enemy of the World.  He killed haru Finwë and took the Silmarils, greatest of Atar’s creations.  He brought a monster who killed the two trees and provided him with a cloak of darkness even the Valar could not penetrate.  I begin to think Atar is right.  If the Valar cannot protect their own realm, why should we trust them to protect us?  No matter what I decide, my brothers and I have bound ourselves to our father in a drastic way.  He called us to his side amidst a passionate speech, and together we swore a terrible oath:  

“Be he foe or friend, be he foul or clean,

brood of Morgoth or bright Vala,

Elda or Maia or Aftercomer,

Man yet unborn upon Middle-earth,

neither law, nor love, nor league of swords,

dread nor danger, not Doom itself,

shall defend him from Fëanor, and Fëanor's kin,

whoso hideth or hoardeth, or in hand taketh,

finding keepeth or afar casteth

a Silmaril. This swear we all:

death we will deal him ere Day's ending,

woe unto world's end! Our word hear thou,

Eru Allfather! To the everlasting

Darkness doom us if our deed faileth.

On the holy mountain hear in witness

and our vow remember, Manwë and Varda!”

I will never forget a word, for it is as if they are burned into my mind.  Now that the fire has cooled, and I begin to think upon our oath, I fear that nothing good can come of it.  My only hope is that we recover the Silmarils quickly, so that we can be free.

Maitimo Fëanorian