Tumgik
#Cause Maglor and Maedhros commited more kinslayings that anyone else but at least they didn’t let a dog down :P
lidoshka · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media
@feanorianweek #3: Celegorm - Indemnización | Indemnity
Lo justo es justo: si privas a Luthien de su libertad, ella te va a privar de tu perro y de tus pantalones.
+
Fair is fair: if you rob Luthien of her freedom, she's gonna rob you of your dog and your pants.
363 notes · View notes
chaos-of-the-abyss · 5 years
Note
Who are your least favorite to favorite sons of Fëanor?
Ask 2: What do you think about the sons of Fëanor, each individually, and overall? Did you take away anything from their stories? Personally I learned a lot while reading about them and I was wondering if anyone else experienced the same thing.
Okay, as you probably guessed, I’ll be answering both these asks in the same post, since the answers to each one tie pretty closely into each other.
7. Amrod
I don’t dislike Amrod at all, but we just…don’t know much about him, so my feelings toward him are mostly indifference. The only thing I might be interested in knowing is his thoughts about his father’s actions, his brothers’ actions, and his own.
6. Amras
It’s almost a tie with Amrod, frankly. The only reason I’m placing Amras above him in this list is because, in The Shibboleth of Fëanor, Amras, horrified by the Kinslaying at Alqualondë defies his father and tried to go back:
“In the morning the host was mustered, but of Fëanor’s seven sons only six were to be found. Then Ambarussa went pale with fear. ‘Did you not then rouse Ambarussa my brother (whom you called Ambarto)?’ he said. 'He would not come ashore to sleep (he said) in discomfort.’ But it is thought (and no doubt Fëanor had guessed this also) that it was in the mind of Ambarto to sail his ship back [?afterwards] and rejoin Nerdanel; for he had been much [?shocked] by the deed of his father. ‘That ship I destroyed first,’ said Fëanor (hiding his own dismay). 'Then rightly you gave the name to the youngest of your children,’ said Ambarussa, 'And Umbarto "the Fated” was its true form. Fell and fey are you become.’ And after that no one dared to speak again to Fëanor of this matter.“
It appears that Fëanor didn’t mean to kill his son, but Amras died anyway. In any case, I find Amras’ righteousness and willingness to stand up for his beliefs impressive. Even after seeing what his father could do, he defied him because he couldn’t bring himself to follow Fëanor after he committed something so atrocious. Given Fëanor’s character, I’d say that’s pretty damn courageous.
5. Caranthir
Caranthir is (somewhat) interesting to me for a few reasons. For one thing, he seems to have taken after Fëanor the most in terms of temper, being noted as the “harshest” and “quickest to anger” among the Fëanorians. It makes me wonder what kind of relationship he had with his father, because Fëanor was hotheaded as well. I would not want to be in the room if those two had dissenting opinions.
Another reason why Caranthir interests me (somewhat) is that he was married. Literally nothing is known about his wife, but I’m curious to know how they parted when he left Aman to follow his father and his brothers to retrieve the Silmarils. I can’t imagine they parted on amicable terms.
The third reason Caranthir is fascinating is his relationship with Haleth. What did he think of her personally? Was he impressed at her independence or offended that his offer was refused? How did she (and her people) affect his opinion of humans?
I also wonder what were his thoughts about the Kinslayings and what he thought about as he was dying. (Morbid of me, I know.)
4. Curufin
Curufin I also find interesting for pretty much the same reasons as Caranthir, although the “harshest and quickest to anger” is replaced by “Fëanor’s favorite” (favoritism is not good for your children, Curufinwë Fëanáro!), “much like him in appearance, temperament, and skill”. I actually can’t imagine being Fëanor’s favorite child would have had a good impact on anyone. Fëanor was a perfectionist, and I feel like he wouldn’t accept anything less than the absolute best from his favorite son, and that he didn’t hold back when expressing disappointment either.
Like I said for Caranthir, his relationship with his wife is also a point of interest. How did they meet and fall in love? What kind of household did they run (and raise Celebrimbor in)? How did their relationship deteriorate over the years? How was their parting?
What was he thinking about as he was dying? Was he regretting his actions? Or did he feel that they were all justified? Was he remembering his wife and his son? And speaking of his son, what was his relationship with Celebrimbor like? And how did Curufin’s actions affect their relationship?
And of course, his relationship with Celegorm. The House of Fëanor has always struck me as quite a dysfunctional one, what with Fëanor and Nerdanel slowly growing apart. Why did Curufin bond with Celegorm the most, out of all his brothers? Was it circumstance? Did they share a common interest? They didn’t strike me as being too similar when I read about them. Or maybe they complemented each other well?
One thing that adds nuance to Curufin is that he balanced love for his son and his wife (probably - hopefully), duty and love for his father and brothers, and his close companionship with Celegorm with the fact that, as @martaaa1506 and I were discussing before, he’s a class-A asshole. Not only did he (and Celegorm) trick Luthien into believing they would help her and then kidnap her instead, he also attempted to kill her after his plans failed. Chill. You’d think the poor girl deliberately ran over his puppy with a car or something, when in fact the only affront Luthien dealt him was obtaining a Silmaril and not, like, handing it over to him or something of the sort.
Personally, what makes Curufin so fascinating for me is that I believe by the point of the events of Beren and Luthien, he’d become the worst version of himself. He was on a downwards spiral since a certain point and by that time, he was wholly obsessed with his oath and willing to do anything to obtain the Silmarils. He was even willing to harm people who didn’t simply surrender them to him (as in Luthien’s case) - that’s how consumed with his oath he’d become, and that’s how far he’d fallen.
3. Celegorm
Celegorm fascinates me for almost the exact same reasons as Curufin, given that they were together so often. Of course, Celegorm wasn’t married, but I’ve always been quite engrossed in his friendships with Oromë, Aredhel, and Huan. With the first, I can’t help imagining the falling out that their companionship would have had, since Celegorm decided to follow his father and brothers into exile.
With the second - it’s just so fascinating, imo. They were close friends and cousins, despite the fact that their fathers had a relationship full of animosity. I can’t imagine that Fëanor was happy with his son’s companionship with his half-brother’s daughter. And he was the one Aredhel sought after she left Gondolin; more evidence of just how strong their friendship was. She left her brother and went to him first. He also later helped Aredhel escape Eöl. It’s pretty clear to me that Celegorm cared a lot about her, and I can’t help thinking he must have been so enraged and grieved when he heard that she died - at the hands of her own husband, no less.
And of course, his relationship with Huan. Huan was one of Celegorm’s oldest companions, and they probably knew each other very well. Huan seemed to be pretty loyal to Celegorm, considering that he followed him into exile despite being a hound given to Celegorm by the Valar. I always wonder how Celegorm must have felt when Huan assisted Luthien over him. Did he blame everything solely on his hound? Or did it make him self-reflect and wonder how far he’d fallen? Tolkien says that the “love between them [Celegorm and Huan] was less than before” after that incident, but that can be interpreted in so many different ways. Obviously, their relationship took a blow, but was it just from mistrust, anger, and resentment?
Speaking of Luthien, am I the only one who always pities Celegorm every time I read about her casting off her disguise and him falling head-over-heels for her? (Though whether he actually did or not is debatable.) He fell hopelessly in love with a woman who’s already in love with a human man; that’s some tough luck right there. It also makes me curious; was it just her beauty? I doubt it.
[As I mentioned in Curufin’s section, their brotherly dynamics fascinate me as well.]
All these things aside, Celegorm, like Curufin, was an asshole. Love Luthien or not, it doesn’t change the fact that he deceived and kidnapped her and intended to force her to marry him. (It was also a politically driven move to secure Doriath, but still.) Like Curufin, I think Celegorm was, by that point, the worst version of what he could have been, fulfilled. He was at the height of his negative potential, so to speak.
Also, I don’t know if this is just me, but I think Celegorm would have been really heartbroken to hear that Huan died defending Beren, someone he hates. This is his companion that’s been with him for thousands of years, who not only abandons him but dies for the sake of this human man. A lot of resentment towards Huan, and a lot more hatred towards Beren, I think, would have been caused by that. Personally, I feel Celegorm had a deep-seated personal grudge against Beren and Luthien’s line because of all that transpired between himself and Huan on account of Beren and Luthien. Plus, if he really was in love with Luthien (a fucked up love, I must admit), it must have stung to hear that she chose mortality, again for the sake of Beren. Ouch.
2. Maedhros
I know, I know, I can hear the surprise. Maedhros is second, and not first? (Most people love Maedhros the most, and Maglor second, though it’s quite a close case in some.) Admittedly, Maglor won by a very narrow margin. I’ll explain my reasons in his section.
Ah, Maedhros… how can I express why I love him so much? As @arya-durin-51 put it so perfectly, Maedhros is a stellar mix of both duty, love, and personal morals, acting on all of them at varying points in his life. He runs a perfect balance between doing his duty, acting out of personal love for those in his family, and a general sense of righteousness. Here are a few (emphasis on few) examples:
Maedhros followed Fëanor because he loved his father, but also had a duty towards him as his oldest son. It was this mix of duty and love that prompted him to continue following Fëanor even after his father’s actions at Alqualondë, yet he wasn’t wholly controlled by those traits, either, as shown when he expected the ships to be sent back for Fingolfin’s people and was angered by and refused to take part in the burning of the ships, motivated by personal morality and love for Fingon.
Maedhros attempted to negotiate with and trick Morgoth, a risky move (tht resulted in his capture and torture), because he felt it was his duty; he swore the Oath, because he felt it was right; he had to take this opportunity or the deaths his father caused, and his father’s own death, might be for nothing, and because he loved his kin and didn’t want them to be damned; if he could take this risk and reclaim a Silmaril, they would be closer to accomplishing their oath and less likely to suffer the “everlasting darkness” that they mentioned should they fail to reclaim the Silmarils.
Maedhros surrendered his kingship to Fingolfin because of his personal morality: he felt that his house wronged Fingolfin’s, and that he owed Fingon a debt for rescuing him from Thangorodrim. He stood by these despite the fact that his decision was met with dislike from his brothers.
Maedhros argued against Maglor’s idea to ask for the two Silmarils peacefully again because of duty, love, personal honor, and fear. He felt that he’d done too much to be forgiven, and that trying the peaceful way would prevent him from fulfilling his oath (duty), and thus, render the deaths he caused pointless (personal honor), and damn him and his brothers to the Void (love and fear).
I could go on and on, but you get the idea. The notion that love is the very opposite of duty… well, Maedhros says hi.
Also, Maedhros seems to be the leader among the House of Fëanor after his father’s death, naturally, since he is the oldest and the elves of Aman seem patriarchal to me. All the brothers did their own thing, but I do think there’s a recurring occurrance of them gathering around Maedhros’ banner at times.
We should also consider his adoption of Elrond and Elros. I’ve never doubted that Maedhros loved those kids and that they did love him back, but was that really all? [This will be more expanded on in Maglor’s part.]
I’ve always been partial to angst-riddled characters as well, and Maedhros definitely has a good amount of angst under his belt. He was tortured at the hands of Morgoth and Sauron for thirty years. That’s longer than I’ve been alive. It could have utterly broken him and turned him into just a husk, but even after enduring that, he still marches against Morgoth; again, because of duty, because of love, and because of personal honor.
And of course, we have his suicide. Thinking about Maedhros’ state of mind when he jumped into that chasm makes my heart break every time. I can’t imagine how he must have felt: he’s in terrible pain because of the Silmaril, but he can’t bear to let go of it because he’s done so many things to reclaim it, and if he lets it go now, literally all of that would be pointless. Innocents would have died for nothing. His little brothers would have died for nothing. And speaking of his brothers, I imagine Maedhros was absolutely torn with guilt when it comes to them. He was the eldest, the (in my opinion) unspoken leader, but he was one of the two last survivors. I always thought he believed he failed to protect them. Then there’s the guilt over all of his actions. Maedhros regretted many of the things he committed because of his Oath. Taking all of those factors into consideration… scarily, it’s not at all difficult to understand Maedhros’ decision.
All in all, he’s just such a tragically complex, heart-wrenching character that I can’t not love him with all my heart.
1. Maglor
As made obvious through the process of elimination, if nothing else, Maglor is my favorite out of the Fëanorians. I think it has something to do with his surviving the entirety of the First Age’s events (perhaps he committed suicide later, though).
First, there’s the fact that he was married, which is clearly always a point of fascination for me when it comes to the sons of Fëanor. Same deal; how did they meet, how did they fall in love, and how did they fall apart?
Like Maedhros, Maglor was motivated by duty, love, and honor. He followed Fëanor for the sake of his love for his father and his duty towards the head of his family. He committed his (frankly quite terrible) actions to reclaim the Silmarils out of love for his family, not wanting them to be subjected to the aforementioned “eternal darkness” of the Oath, and a sense of personal morality, feeling that if he didn’t, everyone who fell victim to his pursuit of the Silmarils would have suffered for nothing.
I also imagine that Maglor felt a lot of guilt for the fall of Maglor’s Gap. Since he was the second eldest son of Fëanor, I’m pretty sure that he was in charge of the district, but it was lain waste to by Glaurung. One can assume that being attacked by a dragon led to many, many deaths and a lot of gruesome violence, which I think Maglor, as the governor(?) of sorts of Maglor’s Gap, must have felt some kind of responsibility for.
What mainly draws me towards Maglor is the fact that he, out of the seven brothers, was described to be the most like Nerdanel, inheriting her “gentle temperament”. Nerdanel, as we know, was extremely affected by Fëanor’s individual actions, to the point of desparating from him when it became too much for her to bear. Because of that I think Maglor, out of the seven brothers, thought the most about his crimes, which led to the most regret. That doesn’t mean he was a wimp, just that he felt his guilt the most strongly out of the seven. Not that the other brothers didn’t feel the same guilt; more that Maglor allowed his actions and consequentially, his remorse, to affect him the most.
[Applies to Maedhros as well.] His relationship with Elrond and Elros is so fascinating, in my opinion. (Along with the fact that it also proves Maglor had a fatherly side, which I love.) I imagine he first adopted them out of guilt and pity, and later came to love them as if they were his own sons. As stated, “love grew between them”, but their dynamic strikes me as more complicated. Elrond and Elros still did witness the remaining sons of Fëanor attack their home and massacre many of its inhabitants. If it were me, I don’t think I could easily forgive that, even if Maedhros and Maglor were nothing but kind and loving to me. Yet despite this glaring knot in their relationship, Maedhros and Maglor raised those twins really, really well. Just look at the kind of people Elrond and Elros grew up to be. I’m curious; how did they fix such a serious issue? Did they just ignore it? Did they explain their actions to Elrond and Elros and earn forgiveness?
And thinking about how Maglor (and Maedhros) must have felt to let Elrond and Elros go… I cry every time.
Then we come to post-Morgoth’s defeat, where Maedhros and Maglor steal the Silmarils from Eönwë’s camp. Maglor actually argued that they should try to reclaim them peacefully, which, given all the shit that’s happened to so many people because of the Fëanorians, is a pretty huge risk. The Valar (and Eönwë) have good reason not to accept any offers of peace from him and Maedhros, and the result of such a refusal would probably be the capture of Maedhros and Maglor. So why the argument that they should attempt a negotiation? I can imagine so many heartrending motivations behind this, honestly. I think it was a combination of these factors:
Maglor was just exhausted of all the violence and all the bloodshed; he felt that he had committed too many sins and he was sick of it. Like I said, given Maglor’s “gentle temperament”, I believe he felt the weight of his actions more strongly than his brothers because he allowed himself to.
Maglor felt that violence would lead to worse things. He left his home, his wife, and his mother, and has killed many, many people, and still doesn’t have anything good to show for it. The only effects are: he’s left a trail of victims in his wake, his younger brothers are all dead, and one of the Silmarils, which he participated in two separate Kinslayins to obtain, is out of his reach.
Maglor longed for redemption and forgiveness. I mean, who wouldn’t? Again, given his personality, I think his sins affected him the most emotionally and mentally out of all of his brothers because he let them get to him. At that point, he was disgusted with himself and everything he’d done, and hoping that if he could make it up somehow. And plus, even if he did fulfill his oath, what’s left for him? He’d surely remain banned from Valinor because of everything he did. I think Maglor was pretty desperately hoping to make amends.
In the end, though, Maglor was swayed by Maedhros’ caution that the sons of Fëanor wouldn’t be forgiven. Much like Maedhros, he was influenced by duty, love, personal honor, and fear. He was terrified that if the peaceful way didn’t work (a very valid concern on both Maedhros and Maglor’s parts, because frankly, it’s difficult to earn forgiveness after everything they’ve done) he would be failing to fulfill his oath (duty), and thus, make the deaths he caused pointless (personal honor), and damn him and his brothers to the Void (love and fear). These concerns in Maglor overpowered the desires and concerns listed above, and he agreed with Maedhros to steal the Silmarils. I like that. I like that some things in Maglor were overshadowed by others.
And we have Maglor’s fate to consider. (I won’t talk about his death here, since he’s not confirmed to be dead.) Maglor, unable to bear the pain of the Silmaril that he held, threw it into the sea, and afterwards, wandered the shores for eternity, lamenting. Personally, I believe the “pain of the Silmaril” was more than just the physical pain of it burning Maglor’s hands, but the emotional and psychological pain it brought him to look at something that he abandoned his home, his mother, and his wife for, something that he caused so much death and bloodshed for, something that his younger brothers died trying to obtain. Maglor was just done with Silmarils and done with the Oath; he didn’t want to think about it or have anything to do with it anymore, and just threw it into the ocean. Some part of me wonders if he also regretted it afterwards, thinking that what he did rendered all the deaths (the deaths of those he killed as well as the deaths of his brothers) pointless.
By this time, I think Maglor was fully and utterly consumed with despair and regret. He can’t return to Valinor and face the Valar his mother, or his wife, because of all the crimes he committed. He can’t even face his brothers, because, in the end, he gave up the Silmaril. All-in-all, Maglor believed that he was irredeemable and that there was nothing in the world left for him. And his story ends on this depressing, depressing note. Some fans think he committed suicide, and given his state of mind by the end, it’s heartbreaking to say that it’s not impossible; perhaps Maglor decided that even the “everlasting darkness” was better than living at that point.
Maglor’s character arc ends in utter tragedy for him, and I love that I’m such a sadomasochist. He’s such a morally grey character and so complex, but there is absolutely no happy ending for him. Maglor’s story closes on a fate so bleak that you’d think it belongs to some kind of absolutely, completely, despicable villain. Arguably, that’s the fate of all the sons of Fëanor, but personally I think Maglor’s ending is the most disheartening of the brothers’ endings. I already adored him before, and the fact that his development ends at his very lowest, most despair-inducing state sealed the coffin for me, so to speak.
I first read The Silmarillion when I was 13, and it had a gigantic impact on my perception of being morally grey. The seven sons of Fëanor have done awful, awful things. I’m especially horrified at the fact that they attacked a refugee camp (the Havens of Sirion) and killed most of its inhabitants - refugees. They deserve to answer for and take responsibility for their actions, but that most certainly doesn’t make them non-sympathetic, one-dimensional, or complete villains.
If there’s anything I can say Professor Tolkien has taught me with these beautiful, nuanced characters, it’s these two things:
1. Don’t throw away your morals for your goals. Over the course of reaching for their goal of reclaiming the Silmarils, the Fëanorians abandoned so much of their personal morality. Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod, and Amras paid the price through death. Maedhros and Maglor reached a point that even the Silmarils, the objects that they were so determined to obtain, rejected them, and they had to stomach all of their guilt and grief on top of all that, living to see the repercussions of their actions. Achieving your goals is good, but remain yourself. Don’t let those goals consume you.
2. Fear can be much more powerful motivator than hatred. I personally think that while overall, the seven brothers might have been driven by hatred for Morgoth at first, in the end it was something much more primal that became a motivation that they all shared: fear. They were all terrified, in my opinion, of what awaited them should they fail to fulfill their oath. Maedhros and Maglor, in particular, might have also been driven by guilt and desire for redemption - at least, these traits were more prevalently displayed in them than in their younger brothers - but fear was a motivation that all seven of them shared.
Sorry for the extremely long reply, lol. I wasn’t at all intending to make it this lengthy, but my Tolkien nerd side just came out. Plus, I’ve been wanting to explore my feelings toward the sons of Fëanor in depth for a while now, and these two questions gave me the perfect opportunity.
61 notes · View notes