Tumgik
#fëanor & maedhros
cuthalions · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Maedhros answered: ‘But how shall our voices reach to Ilúvatar beyond the Circles of the World? And by Ilúvatar we swore in our madness, and called the Everlasting Darkness upon us, if we kept not our word. Who shall release us?’ ‘If none can release us,’ said Maglor, ‘then indeed the Everlasting Darkness shall be our lot, whether we keep our oath or break it; but less evil shall we do in the breaking.’ Yet he yielded at last to the will of Maedhros, and they took counsel together how they should lay hands on the Silmarils. [...] But the jewel burned the hand of Maedhros in pain unbearable; and he perceived that it was as Eönwë had said, and that his right thereto had become void, and that the oath was vain. And being in anguish and despair he cast himself into a gaping chasm filled with fire, and so ended; and the Silmaril that he bore was taken into the bosom of the Earth. And it is told of Maglor that he could not endure the pain with which the Silmaril tormented him; and he cast it at last into the Sea, and thereafter he wandered ever upon the shores, singing in pain and regret beside the waves.
— THE SILMARILLION, CH. 24: OF THE VOYAGE OF EÄRENDIL AND THE WAR OF WRATH (insp. by middle-earth-mythopoeia)
865 notes · View notes
thranduilofsmirkwood · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
458 notes · View notes
nailsinmywall · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Barbie and the Silmarils (2006) AKA the best silm adaptation
2K notes · View notes
eight-pointed-star · 27 days
Text
Tumblr media
198 notes · View notes
fflewddur-feanorion · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
That one incorrect quote + the house of Fëanor!
223 notes · View notes
ettelenethelien · 2 months
Text
CW: aftermath of graphic violence, corpses, blood; not explicitly described, but it's there
There is a lot of fanart around of Fëanor cradling Finwë's dead body, and while I find it just as moving as any other person, I can't help but think that the info we're given in HoME doesn't make it seem at all like the corpse was in good enough a state to make this possible
Maedhros: "... There we found the king slain at the door. His head was crushed as with a great mace of iron ... His sword lay beside him, twisted and untempered as if by lightening-stroke"
And of course, you can ignore this, but I think this version has just as many possibilities for angst... Consider:
Maedhros arrives at the scene first, and he never gets over what he sees there. He will know worse one day; battles are no pleasant thing, but this is his first experience of violence, and it is the greatest horror one could find.
Caranthir is second and Caranthir starts retching. By the time Curufin appears, Maedhros has regained enough presence of mind to stop him from coming nearer, and make sure Maglor and Celegorm and the twins - especially the twins, for stars sake, the twins! - don't have to see it.
And despite his horror, despite the nausea, Maedhros kneels down to pick up the pieces. He sends Caranthir for the casket... (it's just a box, of course it's just a box, but that's what poets will later call it) And to his horror, Celegorm appears in his field of view.
"Didn't Curvo find you?"
"He did"
And Maedhros is furious: "Stars, then why are you here??!"
"I've seen blood before, Nelyo" says Celegorm calmly, and Maedhros wants to protest that this is different than whatever he might have seen, but Celegorm has already knelt down beside him and begun helping in the bloody endeavour, though up close it's visible that he isn't as unfazed as he pretends to be.
"At least," says Celegorm "it must have been quick"
...
Later, in Tirion, Maedhros will have one of his rare moments of opposition to his father. He doesn't let him open the casket; he puts himself between it and his father. Hand on the swordhilt, almost as if he was ready to fight - he wouldn't dream of hurting his father, but certain instincts are already arising in them all.
"Will you not let me look on my father's face one last time?" Fëanor both pleads and demands in anger.
"There is no face" Maedhros replies. "I've seen it; you shouldn't have to. Do not ask."
...
Maedhros will only gainsay Fëanor one more time in this life, and he shall never again stop him.
188 notes · View notes
ward-of-irmo · 9 months
Text
Stubborn headcanon:
Nerdanel and Fëanor weren't great as first time parents. They're both artists, remembered for their creations, and they saw their first son as such (at least initially).
Nerdanel named him 'the Well-Shaped One' as if in reference to her statues. As if saying 'look at the finest thing I've made'.
Fëanor called him 'the Third Finwë' as an insult to his half-brother.
Neither name is about the child. And Maitimo Nelyafinwë grew up not being seen by his parents, not in the same way Kanafinwë and Curufinwë were recognised for their skill, Turkafinwë and Morifinwë for their traits. Not making them proud in the same way his brothers did.
No wonder he leapt to his feet instantly to swear the Oath.
415 notes · View notes
naarisz · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Quick sketch of Fëanor and tiny Maedhros. :)
655 notes · View notes
welcomingdisaster · 1 year
Text
Fëanor tells all of his kids how much they look like Miriel.
They do not.
Maybe there's a touch of her in Maedhros's calm grey eyes -- but Miriel's, all say, had been sparkling as the leaves of Telperion, her gaze constantly flitting from one thing to the next, as though in search for someone who was not there. No, Maedhros has his mother's level gaze, her manner of holding eye contact a moment too long.
Maybe there's something of her in the delicately carved features of Maglor's face -- he resembles her in the way all beautiful people resemble each other, in a certain sharpness and cohesiveness of features. There might be something of her curls in his loose waves. but no single feature can be said to have come from her -- not his lips nor his nose, nor even his long, arrow-straight eyelashes.
Celegorm finally gives Fëanor something. His hair is silver, only a shade darker than his grandmother's had been. When he is young the softness in his features almost passes for likeness; but he grows broad-shouldered and heavyset, where his grandmother had been petite and light; his hands are quick but huge, his fingers thick. If he resembles anyone, he resembles Mahtan. His brothers tease him about growing a beard. Fëanor quietly mourns that might have been.
Caranthir looks like his mother. That is inarguable; all who see him comment on it. It is the dark brown hair, a trace of red visible yet under bright treelight, the square face, the rounded nose. Fëanor loves sees Nerdanel in him and loves her. But his eyebrows, he says, his eyebrows are just as Miriel's had been -- if you ignore the shape of the arch and the particular set over the eyes.
Curufin looks just like his father. Proud, tall Fëanor-- Fëanor who looks so much like Finwë. When he grows older he will have Miriel's height, and nothing else. Not her chin, not her jaw -- not her eyes or her nose or her lips. He joins Fëanor in the workshop. He has no patience for fabric craft.
Fëanor holds his twins in his arms, looking over their sleeping faces with horrible desperation. He sees her in their curls, he thinks, in the constellations of freckles over their noses. But no-- no. Those are Nerdanel's freckles. His father's curls, just as obvious in the descendants of Indis as in his own family. Even here, she has left him.
There are stories of those who had died in the old world, before any of the elves had come to Aman, born again. They come back to their families in spirit, people say, as babes newborn upon this fair land, but their parents know them and rejoice.
The house is full of children's laughter. Nerdanel, more precious to him than any other, is tired. He cannot have more children only to sate his grief, only to look for a silver-headed, quick-eyed girl who shall not come.
Telufinwë, he names his youngest, and thinks of him as his last abandonment.
569 notes · View notes
thefashbasher · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
nerdanel and fëanor with the newborn maedhros
346 notes · View notes
halfelven · 7 months
Text
suddenly obsessed with the idea that ‘spirit of fire’ Fëanor and ‘after his torment upon Thangorodrim his spirit burned like a white fire within, and he was as one that returns from the dead’ Maedhros had a fusing. a union. part of the spirit that Míriel gave to Fëanor could not be still. could not rest. there was still too much of it. and Maedhros crying out in his torment, seeking comfort, company, a way out, was like a beacon for this spirit. and part of the white fire within, the return from the dead, is his father, who cannot, cannot die. so despite everything, he remains, and more than just the oath of Fëanor, Maedhros is also actively haunted by him
206 notes · View notes
thranduilofsmirkwood · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Made me laugh waaay toooo hard ⤵️
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
245 notes · View notes
paristandard · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
lost power and internet for like a week, read half of the silmarillion, and decided to just draw Maedhros but that spiraled into drawing Fëanor and all of his sons
(I love @cy-lindric‘s designs and was partly inspired by their illustrated family tree)
574 notes · View notes
eight-pointed-star · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
105 notes · View notes
meluiloth · 13 days
Text
Tumblr media
Here is the artwork for @silmarillionepistolary day 6, Loss and Betrayal.
It is dark in Valinor.
Finwë, still remaining in self-imposed exile with his son and grandsons, fears for himself and the people he abandoned - never has the world been this dark, not even in the first days at Cuivienen. Melkor betrayed them all, and is nowhere to be found, but the Two Trees are dead, still bleeding black venom from the attack. Fëanáro is gone, he was summoned by the Valar, who seem to think he can help right the wrong that was done here only weeks ago. Finwë worries that his son will be too bitter and too proud to listen.
He misses his family, the ones he left behind when he chose Fëanáro’s side - he knows that Nolofinwë was deeply hurt by this, but he still thinks his eldest son needs him more - and he prays they are all right. Formenos is silent, but not dark … the Silmarils, set into the wall above his son’s throne, cast light into every corner.
I worry for him, Finwë writes. He needs me. It is dark, but those gems…
He pauses, looking up at them, before he takes a deep breath and goes on: Valar forgiv-
Finwë does not get to finish the sentence. He does not even have time to react as the heavy iron doors of Formenos are blown right off their hinges by a single strike of a massive iron hammer. A pitch-dark form rushes forward, and before Finwë can even cry out, Melkor’s hammer swings into him, and the force of the blow sends him flying backwards. His body collides with the wall far behind, and the last thing he sees is Melkor prying his son’s coveted jewels from the wall.
75 notes · View notes
cirrdan · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
So much linguistic drama in Shibboleth of Fëanor.
That one th/s sound change that Fëanor cared about because the th appeared in his mother's name...I adore this detail, so decided to sketch Fëanáro teaching his children to pronounce correctly xD
751 notes · View notes