The Life and Times of Maedhros by MaedhrosFeanorian

Kinslayer

1495, Age of the Trees

I don’t understand what has happened today.  I’m not sure that I want to.  Until now, I thought our quest justified and righteous, but as I stand here, hands drenched in the blood of my kin, I can’t help but wonder if I shouldn’t have stayed behind, as Amil wished.  If this is but the beginning of a path bathed in red, I am not sure it is a path I wish to follow.  I can see Atar in the distance, loading the ships and preparing to leave, but I find I do not trust him the way I once did.  He has changed.  Until now, I haven’t seen it. I was so busy agreeing with his apparent slights that I never really looked at him.  Who he was becoming.  Ever since he crafted the Silmarils, he has become more withdrawn, more paranoid.  He constantly believed that uncle Nolofinwe was trying to supplant him in Haru’s good graces.  Before all this, he crafted weapons, which had never been seen before in the Blessed Realm.  He said it was for self-defense, should Nolofinwe make a formal move against him, but now I do not believe that.  I think he may have been planning an attack on my uncle before Morgoth returned, but was pacified by Nolofinwe’s professed allegiance.  Now, he is free from all bonds of loyalty, and I fear what he might do.  They are calling to board the ships, so I cannot write more, but I will at next convenience.                                

Maitimo Fn5;anorian