#maedhros meta

[spiritofwhitefire]

I do think it’s strange that Maedhros of all people is a character that gets woobified so hard because the MOST compelling thing about him isn’t his heroism, it’s the fact that he was heroic and the BECAME A VILLAIN. I’m not even going to say became an anti hero because I don’t think that’s accurate, I mean he became a straight up villain. Destroying what was basically a refugee camp, attacking the army fighting against morgoth when half of his identity post thangorodrim was once based around fighting Morgoth. I’m not the first person to mention the irony of the fact that maedhros is the only person to ever escape Angband without being in thrall to Morgoth, and then years later his actions are absolutely aiding morgoths cause rather than the cause of the remaining Noldor.

And that is what sets this character apart. His downfall. Part of that downfall is his earlier heroism but what makes this character so well written in the first place is that the seeds of that downfall start early at Alqualonde. It’s tragic but it isn’t surprising.

I changing this character around so that somehow his later actions are excusable or against his will or that deep down he has actually been a hero this whole time is very strange because if that’s the case then how is he any different than fingon or turgon or thingol? In fact if that’s the case then he’s more boring than these characters because he’s not nearly as outwardly noble.

He becomes a villain and as the shadows of that villainy were apparent early on, the shadow of his heroism is still apparent later on as well and that’s the tragedy. He could have turned around at any point, he could have still saved himself. But he doesn’t and it’s horribly tragic and as a story, it’s absolutely brilliant character work.

[hollowwhisperings]

guess who just learned all their Tolkien math for the past year has been very incorrect?

i misremembered the calculation of valian years to coranari as being x3.582. it's actually x9.582.

(and i KNOW that this isn' the first time i've had this math fail in this fandom: deja vu like whoah about calculating Nelyo's time at Angband/Thongorodrim wrong: i was using "~27 years of the sun" instead of our fandom's standard roundup to "30+")

i have so much math to redo. DAMNIT, TOLKIEN. ;__;

[thesummerestsolstice]

Elvish art genre that definitely exists in Middle-Earth: the captivity of Elrond and Elros (mostly just Elrond, especially after Elros dies)

The paintings– done mostly, but not always, by Sindarin and anti-Feanorian Noldor artists– are usually studies in contrast– Elrond as the bright, innocent child dressed in white; often portrayed as a small, frightened elfling, frozen at the moment he was taken from Sirion. Sometimes he is shown bravely resisting the cruelty of the Feanorians, other times he mourns for Sirion, or bows and prays to the gods for deliverance. Sometimes, he's given wings, both to stress his connection with Luthien and Elwing and to make him look more angelic and pure in comparison to the fallen Feanorians.

Maedhros and Maglor are the dark monsters the oath made them, with teeth, and claws, and harsh armor. Some of the more daring artists just portray Maedhros as an actual orc. While few of the paintings actually show the Feanorians' crimes, they're often portrayed with blood on their hands or swords, or simply surrounded by fire and destruction. They often demand, or threaten in the pictures, towering over Elrond and casting long shadows on him.

There's a few different sub-genres of these paintings. The ones that explicitly compare Elrond's situation to Luthien's kidnapping by Celegorm. The ones that feature a grateful Elrond being saved from the horrible Feanorians by whoever the artist is looking to valorize– Gil-Galad, Galadriel, Oropher, Eonwe, etc. The ones that show Elrond, locked in a dark cell, staring longingly out at Gil-Estel rising in the night sky. Some of the strangest are the ones that draw connections between the Silmarils being kept in Morgoth's crown and the twins– often with Maedhros playing the role of Morgoth.

Elrond hates almost all of these paintings. He feels like they take away his ability to define his past the way he wants to– to tell his own story. Most of them are grossly inaccurate, but most people don't know that, and dredging up all those really painful memories to try and correct people's assumption is hard. Sometimes, even when he does, people won't listen. Some of the paintings also seem... weirdly gleeful about the idea that Elrond suffered because of the Feanorians? Like they're trying to martyr him even though he's alive, and doesn't want to be martyred. It all makes him really, really uncomfortable.

There is one exception. It's not a very traditional example of captivity paintings. Elrond is at the center of the frame, shown not as a small child but as a young adult. Maglor and Maedhros are mostly unseen in the background, each with a bloody hand on one of Elrond's shoulders. Unlike the other paintings, instead of looking off into the distance or staring demurely at the ground, Elrond is looking straight out at the viewer His expression is hard to place. Anger? Acceptance? Defiance? Pity? Accusation? It's a very odd picture that unsettles almost everyone that look at it.

Elrond insists on hanging it in Rivendell.

[nerdanelparmandil]

Maedhros and Finrod are a study in contrasts when it comes to oaths.

Maedhros despairs while Finrod hopes, this is the core of it, and why they have two very different outcomes.

The oath of Feanor is an oath of vengeance and grief, while Finrod's is made out of friendship and gratefulness. The first is an act of ownership, the second one of service.

Both move within the heroic context, in which being and oathbreaker is shameful and will have both moral and physical consequences, so for both of them giving up on their word is not an option.

Feanor's oath pursues the Secondborn, while Finrod's oath is to their service. Feanor's oath destroys relationships, isolates the oathtakers and drives them outside of society - they become kinslayers. Finrod's oath, instead, bridges the gap between the Eldar and the Edain, supports the first union of the two races that gives birth to a line of kings that will rule Middle-Earth, while also representing the union of all the great houses of the Eldar and of the Edain.

Finrod has estel, Maedhros has lost it completely. For Maedhros, the light of Earendil announces his doom and compels him to pursue the oath to utter ruin. For the rest of the Eldar, that light represents the hope that shines despite the darkness that threatens to swallow up the world.

[eilinelsghost]

(Medium) Hot Take: "Did the Oath actually condemn Fëanor & his sons to the Everlasting Darkness" is the wrong question because it has a clear textual answer: which is "no."

Did it have the power to do so? That's another question entirely and a fun one to debate.

But did it? Absolutely not.

Because each of the sons of Fëanor (and Fëanor himself) fulfilled their Oath. Nowhere in the various drafts of the Oath is there a version where they call down the Everlasting Darkness if they fail to retrieve a Silmaril. What they actually swear is:

an oath of enmity for ever against any that should hold the Silmarils The Book of Lost Tales, Part One

shall no law nor love nor league of Gods, no might nor mercy, not moveless fate, defend him for ever from the fierce vengeance of the sons of Fëanor, whoso seize or steal or finding keep the fair enchanted globes of crystal whose glory dies not, the Silmarils. The Lays of Beleriand, The Flight of the Noldoli

no law, nor love, nor league of hell, no might of Gods, no binding spell, shall him defend from hatred fell of Fëanor's sons, whoso take or steal or finding keep a Silmaril. The Lays of Beleriand, The Lay of Leithian: Canto IV

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. Morgoth's Ring; Fifth section of the Annals of Aman

they swore an oath [...] calling the Everlasting Dark upon them if they kept it not; [...] vowing to pursue with vengeance and hatred to the ends of the World Vala, Demon, Elf or Man as yet unborn, or any creature, great or small, good or evil, that time should bring forth unto the end of days, whoso should hold or take or keep a Silmaril from their possession. The Silmarillion; Of the Flight of the Noldor

Every version of the Oath that includes the Everlasting Darkness calls it down upon them only if they do not pursue the perceived thief with vengeance and hatred. The only variance from this is in the version from the Annals of Aman where one could conceivably link the Everlasting Darkness with a failure to kill whosoever took a Silmaril. But this version is replaced by the consistent form shown in all other iterations (the same form that is included in the published Silmarillion) and consequently doesn't hold much weight for the argument.

Fëanor and each of his sons (save Maglor who survives the First Age with a Silmaril in his possession) met their ends in pursuit of this exact clause - pursuing those who hold a Silmaril with vengeance and hatred - and consequently dying in fulfilment of their Oath. Which is to say that even if we do hold that the Oath had the power to damn them to the Everlasting Darkness (which it very well may have!), it would not, could not, and did not do so because the terms were met.

And even setting the specific wording of the Oath, the text tells us exactly what happens to one who dies in pursuit of the Oath while still not regaining a single Silmaril: "...[Fëanor's] likeness has never again appeared in Arda, neither has his spirit left the halls of Mandos" (The Silmarillion, Of the Return of the Noldor).

So yes, the Oath might have had the power to send them into the Everlasting Darkness, but it did not have the grounds to do so. And so it did not.

[edennill]

Obsessed by the implications that by the time kidnap fam is happening, Maglor is dealing with so much responsibility he never asked for. Basically becoming the person on whom the wellbeing of all his remaining family and soldiers depends on.

Like, Maedhros is technically in charge, politically, but he's also depressed and suicidal, perhaps actively so at times. Even if he's capable of managing the remaining Fëanorian forces, he's very much not capable of managing himself, or the twins. Or Maglor. Maglor is not used to this.

And at the same time, I think this is probably him taking small steps towards becoming the kind of person that is capable of throwing away the Silmaril and living on, despite the oath, despite his father's dying wish. The problem with growing up among Fëanorians is that you never learn how to decide without multiple very strong and overbearing wills influencing you, but this here is when Maglor begins to learn.

He will fall back on Maedhros at the crucial juncture once more and give in to his will regarding the Silmarils, but he will not follow him into death next. And then he will be alone, but he will tear off a scrap of linen, wrap the hand holding the Jewel in it and make a step towards the sea, and the step shall be his own.

[queerofthedagger]

One thing that's just been keeping me up for a week straight is that, while we tend to associate Elrond as the one incredibly skilled in healing - rightfully so - there is also that "little" titbit of how "the hands of a King [of Gondor] are the hands of a healer," which, infamously, is the line of Elrond's brother.

Which leaves just enough room to speculate that they may have both had a talent in healing, and in turn begs the question of just which part of their ancestry they got it from.

And the options there are all wild in their own right - on the one hand, there is Elwing's side which would make some sense due to Lúthien/Melian, but then in at least one version of the tale at the end of the Fall of Gondolin, it's said that Elwing and her people believed that the 'power of healing in their camp' came from the Silmaril if I remember correctly. Which implies that it's not a skill their line has been known to have an extraordinary talent in.

The alternative option is, of course, Eärendil. Now that means it comes either from Tuor, or it means Idril, which means through Turgon/the House of Fingolfin. And if I think about that too much I might just go insane because oh man the implications.

But also all the ancestral musings aside, just the idea that the line of Gondor's Kings is carrying forth Elros' own talent in healing as this permanent relic, reminder, and tangible leftover for Elrond, of something they shared and learned together? just. man

[annoyinglandmagazine]

I’ve been thinking about which Feanorians could have more…. difficult relationships with each other, even though I normally interpret them as being very close, and I think the pairs that might have the most issues would be Maedhros and Curufin and Celegorm and Maglor.

Curufin was very much the golden child growing up and it led to a degree of possessiveness over Feanor’s affection where he may have felt challenged by Maedhros being the heir instead of him. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that there was some build up of resentment there on Curufin’s part, being his father’s successor in every aspect except birth order, and he definitely seems like the kind of sibling who would be nasty about it.

Maedhros would usually be patient with his siblings but Curufin has a very unique ability to get under his skin sometimes and it’s so persistent that sometimes he just can’t keep his temper with Curufin when he’s got so much else going on. Most notably they probably get into a physical fight over the abdication because Maedhros really cannot deal with his shit right now and Curufin’s taunting over him being a pathetic disappointment to their father is definitely triggering something.

Celegorm I think at least respects Maedhros for his leadership and strength in battle, he’s also probably used to look up to him when he was a child in a way Curufin didn’t, but Maglor on the other hand……

They have a difficult relationship that hits rock bottom while Maedhros is missing and Maglor is regent in his absence. Celegorm is definitely in the Last Desperate Charge Of Glory camp where ever possible and this is no exception so he views Maglor holding back as cowardice and betrayal of the lowest form.

Maglor just isn’t the sort of leader Celegorm would support; he’s not outright looking for the throne himself but he is undermining his brother constantly and sniping condescendingly whenever he can.

While Curufin doesn’t think Maedhros is worthy of being their father’s heir when he was the only one who showed outright disobedience when Feanor was alive and then gave the throne to the brother Feanor hated Celegorm is actually perfectly willing to accept Maedhros as their leader and that’s why he resents Maglor so much for taking his place.

Maglor was never particularly fond of him, he was quite sensitive when he was younger and Celegorm used to terrorise him to his wits end, but when he’s already being consumed by guilt and self loathing this is really the last thing he needs. They never quite repair that bridge afterwards, though they don’t argue much once Maedhros returns.

Caranthir, contrary to what you might expect, actually gets on mostly alright with his brothers. He’s just conniving enough to be get along with Celegorm and Curufin, just sensible enough to be on good terms with Maglor and Maedhros and everyone gets along with Ambarussa. It’s the extended family that winds him up, his brothers are mostly just used to him being Like That.

[the-symphony-of-lydia-brown]

Some Maglor meta

Maglor's colour is blue. Not the royal blue of Fingolfin's host, though. It is darker and a little more purple. He combines it with both silver and gold, as is the heraldic custom of musicians among the Eldar - almost nobody else has more than one precious metal in their symbolism.

He is highly specialised. His units and his magic work together to hold the Gap free from the Enemy's influence. He assists his brothers when needed and sometimes serves as the artistic/non-political representation of the Sons of Fëanor, but overall he is concentrating on keeping his region together. He does an awfully good job in that regard.

When Mairon finishes polishing brassy scales and jagged claws and Morgoth, whose hands have long lost the skill and patience to create, comes to awaken the first of the accursed Urulóki with terrible power, he looks deep into the eyes of the empty construct until he sees an autonomous spark of his power within them - and when he does, he sighs with twisted contentment.

"I have made some gold, little songbird, that you will never cleave."

After the Dagor Bragollach, Makalaurë starts wearing black and pearl, mourning colours, within Himring's walls, but outside, he keeps to his original garments. Within sixteen years, he manages to fill the countless gaps left in his forces through rigorous training of new recruits. The resulting troops are the pride and joy of the Union, not a large force, but very well trained and equipped. He rides to Dagor Nirnaeth Arnoediad in his own colours again, as a deliberate provocation - Morgoth may have taken the Gap, but he cannot break its defenders.

After D. Nirnaeth Arnoediad, he starts wearing his brother's garnet/burgundy. There are several reasons. Firstly, he is no longer in command of a separate force, secondly, he wants to show his support to his brother. Thirdly, he doesn't want to resemble Fingon's coat of arms too much.

After Maedhros saw the bloodied remnants of a dark-haired blue-clad commander, not instantly identifiable, Maglor tried to reach out to his brother in mind, but found it hastily barred shut. He thinks he can guess what his brother was trying to hide from him.

Of the two of them, it would have been better if Maglor had been the one dead.

He wears red and silver to Maedhros' red and gold and vows silently to be another right hand to him- one that will finally not be lost.

[victorie552]

Ok, so Noldolantë, "The Fall of the Noldor" is a lament composed by Maglor about what happened before, during and after First Kinslaying at Alqualondë. It's such a good song that it's played regularly in Aman and Valar listen to it often (I swear, I swear it was in the Silmarillion I just can't find it now).

It's also a more or less common fanon that Maglor continues writing Noldolante through the whole First Age. Makes sense - it's about fall of the Noldor, and Noldor did a lot of falling back then.

Headcannon time: So my first thought was that Noldolante must a long, long, long epic of a song. So it probably has many parts, right? Iliad has 24 books/parts, somehow I think Noldolante would be at least just as long, and there are longer epics. And again, just like Iliad, unless you're a scholar, in the daily life you don't really listen to/read the whole thing, just reread and repeat the most dramatic fragments. What I'm trying to impress upon you all is that the story would have different segments, or chapters, if you will.

And if Maglor continues to write the story during the FA, there would absolutely be a moment in the lament where the OG Noldolante becomes Noldolante 2, and even Noldolante 3. There may be the same musical motif or something, I decided that Maglor IS that good of a bard to keep it all consistent enough so you know it's all the same story, but the style changes a lot - it's been 400 years in the making, let The Music Elf have fun!

So, Point 1: Many, Many Parts, basically Maglor's FA WIP

My second thought was that, while Feanor invented his alphabet, elves learned their history mostly through oral tradition aka songs and spoken stories. Noldolante is definitely a historical record, where a historical event was archived for future generations.

(It was a also a way to deal with grief, guilt and blame Maglor and all Noldor have faced regarding First Kinslaying - free therapy! But that's not what this post is about)

Archived.

My 2.5 thought was that Noldolante isn't just recallings of how pretty and horrified the beach looked during the murdering or how mad and sorrowful the sea was at everyone during the voyage or even how awesome and charismatic Feanor looked during his speeches that every single Noldo was ready to fight Morgoth barehanded in his name - no, this is a record of who killed who, who got killed by whom, and how.

Noldor and Teleri knew each other (were friends, even!) before the First Kinslaying, so I'm confident that after a lot of interviews, detective work, and cross-referencing, Maglor could and would create a very good... name list. Practically every Noldo and Teler present during First Kinslaying would get a stanza in a song, more if he killed someone, most if he killed many people. Killers and killed would show up twice, first in a fragment listing the killers and their victims, then in a part listing the victims and their murderers. Basically it's the same thing twice, but from different POVs. With when, where and how included.

(It was seen to be in bad taste to compare kills during Maglor's Regency, when most of his interview-part work happened. People did it anyway. There were a Saddest Kill, Funniest Kill, and Weirdest Kill discusions. There was a Tier List. These were weird times to be a Feanorian Noldo.)

(It WAS in Bad Taste, but at least people talked about it. I cannot stress enough how much free therapy this lament provided)

(Little did they know, when Teleri started getting reembodied in Aman, they had very similar discussions, but more in a "I can't believe he killed me like THAT" way. Long, long, long after the First Age. Noldolante is a gift that keeps giving)

So, Maglor had all the historical grith and no common shame to create a "We Killed All These People And We Feel Bad About It" banger of a song, and every Noldo had a very personal reason to at least remember the fragments they are in. It's a hit on a scale never seen before.

(I'm not sure how to tackle the issue of Nolofinweans and Arafinweans learning about Noldolante after crossing the Ice. But there were discussions. There was anger, there was "????", there was controversy. Basically, the song got bigger and bigger rep no matter what your opinion on it was. By the time of Mereth Aderthad it was an important cultural and political piece and at least Fingon's forces were included in the main song. It had parodies.)

Point 2: Archive Function/Kill count storage. Cultural phenomen, every Noldo included

This is where my personal nonsense begins: Main Noldolante was done, there was nothing more to say about First Kinslaying, all killings and deaths were well documented.

But the Siege started. And the Noldor kept dying.

It was less dramatic than it sounded - between the big battles the siege was maintained, but orc raids also happened and sometimes one to few Noldor died in skirmishes. The legal procedure was to document the death of a fellow elf and send a word to king Fingolfin. The cultural procedure, technically started by Feranorians but adapted by many more, was to send the name, common characteristics and cause of death to Maglor's Gap. After few months, King Fingolfin would send reinforcements, short condolences and financial compensation if they had family. After few months, family of an elf would also receive a personal lament for them and a place for them in a Noldolante.

Yes, every lament Maglor created in that time was technically part of the Noldolante. Noldolante 1.5, if you will. Laments make in that time were very customized, and simpler than Noldolante Main, but were still considered a part of the same song. Of course, nobody was expected to know and remember laments for every single Noldo, younger Noldor born in Beleriand could even only know fragments about their family members. Only Maglor would ever know Noldolante in full, but it was understood that everyone had their place in The Song.

The results of Great Battles were harder to document, but Maglor did that. Of course, Dagor Bragollach was hard on him personally, but he worked his way through.

(High King Fingon forbade creating laments for his father. There were no songs for Fingolfin. Apart from in Noldolante, of course. Of course. Maglor did not share the lament with anyone, but he sat long hours and many nights with a blank paper before him, looking at the candle flame and thinking of the past and the future. The song unsung, but there)

Nirnaeth was... Maglor was never more hated and more approached at the same time than then. Still, Noldolante grew and grew, as if people knew the end was near.

It was Second Kinslaying that destroyed the myth of Maglor's song. Feanorians didn't know the Sindar they killed, but surely, they couldn't just left their names unmentioned like they did with orcs? So, Noldor talked, but the battle happened in caves - it wasn't uncommon to find dead bodies in empty rooms, with no witnesses to what happened. Surviving Sindar didn't want to share any names, even when Maglor strong-armed some into talking with him, and good for them. Maglor made a big lament anyway. Maglor, wild, with no shame and dead brothers, with legacy crumbling around him. Noldolante, with holes.

After Third Kinslaying, Noldor didn't want to talk. Lament for Sirion didn't have any names. Clearly, songs weren't a way to go anymore, it was always about live witnesses. And so Maglor raised the twins.

Lament for Maedhros was sung repeatedly. There was no one to hear it.

Point 3: Only Maglor knows Noldolante in full. But that doesn't matter, because everyone knows the important part: the Noldolante is finished. The Star of Hope rises in the West and the story goes on. The Fall has ended.

[outofangband]

Another post to file under “know I’ve written extensively about this sort of thing so I’ll try to keep this short but”

I enjoy these two passages;

and the orcs fled from his face for since his torment upon Thangorodrim his spirit burned like a white fire within and he was as one who returns from the dead

(Regarding young Túrin with his sword) “Then many wondered saying “can the spirit of any man return from death or has Húrin of Hithlum escaped indeed from the pits of Hell”

The shadow of Angband and what befalls those who are taken there lies so heavily upon Beleriand that to leave those halls is to defy death itself.

Except that’s not entirely true;

we know from later in The Children of Húrin that there are those who escaped the mines of Angband and we know that Morgoth released elves who had been subtly or overtly brainwashed. We can presume that many if not most of the aforementioned escapees did not rejoin their communities, perhaps living as outcasts, or even shunned or avoided. (The situation and condition of former prisoners in Beleriand is one of my favorite topics!! I have more posts about this in my tag but ever the Noldor feared!!)

So it’s not the mere feat of leaving Angband; it’s leaving Angband soul in tact, with the fiery will to live.

That’s what is mythologized and lauded.

[spiritofwhitefire]

One of my favorite things about maedhros is that I think he’s one of the only fictional male characters I’ve ever read who is such a perfect balance of stereotypically male and female character traits. Like, starting with the physical only, we are introduced to a character who is insanely tall for a male elf, 8 feet tall even among other seven foot elves. An extremely intimidating and powerful stature and then following that we learn that his main characteristic, something he is literally named for isn’t his power, strength, agility, political prowess, or fighting ability, all of which are talents he definitely has - no he is known for his physical beauty. To have all of your internal skills overlooked for your face is such a female experience, to be known for something that exists to be admired, used and then taken away and mourned when it’s gone is such a female experience. And I’m kind of obsessed with the freedom he might have had once that beauty was gone. Then he is known as a survivor, a fighter, a leader. But no one can ever forget that he was once beautiful, because isn’t that always the most important things ?

[ardafanonarch]

Hi there! This blog is a very cool concept.

If you feel up to it, I'd like to know where the idea of Maedhros as a diplomat and scholar comes from.

In fic he's often portrayed as such in Valinor, serving at Finwë's court, sometimes being close with Fingolfin, bring into linguistics, etc.

Thank you!

Maedhros the Diplomat (with an Addendum on Maedhros the Scholar)

[~3.4k Words]

Ah, Maedhros. A treasure trove of fanon for our first excavation. As this is also our first investigation of characterisation, let’s establish a structure for talking about characters.

There are two ways that we learn what a character is like from The Silmarillion:

The narrator tells us, either: a. with short, pithy statements (someone is “wise” or “steadfast” or “greatest”) b. with longer descriptions

We deduce character from their actions and their relationships to others.

Using this structure, let’s look briefly as what we know about Maedhros.

1a.

Maedhros isn’t “mightiest in skill of word and hand” like his father or “the strongest, the most steadfast, and the most valiant” like Fingolfin. He isn’t even noted as being particularly good at anything like his brothers Maglor “the mighty singer,” Curufin “who inherited most if his father’s skill of hand,” or Celegorm, Amrod, and Amras who were all skilled hunters. He’s not even noteworthy for any negative traits like Caranthir, “the harshest of the brothers and the most quick to anger.”

Despite being one of the story’s protagonists, and certainly the most narratively prominent of the sons of Fëanor, all Maedhros gets in this category is “tall”[1].

1b.

In this category, Maedhros gets more fully fleshed-out:

[At Lake Mithrim] Maedhros in time was healed; for the fire of life was hot within him, and his strength was of the ancient world, such as those possessed who were nurtured in Valinor. His body recovered from his torment and became hale, but the shadow of his pain was in his heart; and he lived to wield his sword with left hand more deadly than his right had been. The Silmarillion, “Of the Return of the Noldor”

Maedhros did deeds of surpassing valour, and the Orcs fled before his face; for since his torment upon Thangorodrim his spirit burned like a white fire within, and he was as one that returns from the dead. The Silmarillion, “Of the Ruin of Beleriand”

Perhaps one of the most striking descriptions of Maedhros comes from an abandoned alliterative verse poem, The Flight of the Noldoli (=Noldor), published in The Lays of Beleriand and dating to 1925 — about a year before Tolkien first put the “Silmarillion” into a prose format in the annalistic-historical mode of the published text.

... and Maidros tall (the eldest, whose ardour yet more eager burnt than his father’s flame, than Fëanor’s wrath; him fate awaited with fell purpose.) Flight of the Noldoli, lines 123-126

Fire, valour, pain, deadliness, wrath, doom. Taken alone, these passages don’t exactly suggest "diplomat and scholar," yet those qualities are a cornerstone how we often see Maedhros discussed and portrayed by fans. So why?

2.

Maedhros the Diplomat, at least, seems to be based on what he does in canon.

Pausing for a moment, what does it actually mean to be "diplomatic"?

Here’s from Merriam-Webster under diplomatic:

[…]

of, relating to, or concerned with the art and practice of conducting negotiations between nations: of, relating to, or concerned with diplomacy or diplomats.

employing tact and conciliation especially in situations of stress

And for diplomacy:

the art and practice of conducting negotiations between nations

skill in handling affairs without arousing hostility: TACT

It’s worth noting that the first use of the word diplomacy dates to the 18th century (1766) and the concept itself is somewhat anachronistic to the pre-modern world of the “Silmarillion.” However, it’s not difficult to apply the spirit of an “art and practice of negotiations between nations” to First Age Beleriand. We’ll also consider the secondary definition of “tact.”

The Case for Maedhros the Diplomat

Let's look at some times that Maedhros practiced diplomacy and was diplomatic:

1. Waiving his claim to the kingship of the Noldor in favour of Fingolfin:

For Maedhros begged forgiveness for the desertion in Araman; and he waived his claim to kingship over all the Noldor, saying to Fingolfin: ‘If there lay no grievance between us, lord, still the kingship would rightly come to you, the eldest here of the house of Finwë, and not the least wise.’ The Silmarillion, “Of the Return of the Noldor”

Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes: resolving conflict by removing one’s own claim to a title.

Is it diplomatic? The dialogue seems pretty tactful — demonstrating deference, employing flattery and logic — and is definitely an improvement on Fëanor’s approach to the contested kingship!

2. Brother-wrangling

There are two significant instances of this in the Silmarillion:

resolving conflict

After an argument breaks out between Angrod and Caranthir over Angrod’s authority to act as messenger to Thingol, “Maedhros indeed rebuked Caranthir … But Maedhros restrained his brothers, and they departed from the council…" (“Of the Return of the Noldor”)

Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes: removing threats to peaceable relations between rulers.

Is it diplomatic? Since we don’t know exactly how Maedhros rebuked Caranthir and restrained his brothers, it’s hard to say how tactfully it was done. Maybe.

removing to the Eastern march

There Maedhros and his brothers kept watch, gathering all such people as would come to them, and they had few dealings with their kinsfolk westward, save at need. It is said indeed that Maedhros himself devised this plan, to lessen the chances of strife, and because he was very willing that the chief peril of assault should fall upon himself. The Silmarillion, “Of the Return of the Noldor”

Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes: again removing threats to peaceable relations between rulers. Also involves gathering followers. Notably, the strategy seems to have worked for as long as it lasted (that is, until Celegorm and Curufin found themselves in Nargothrond).

Is it diplomatic? Again, unclear how Maedhros executed this plan, but the narrator’s tone here is quite approving so it’s reasonable to assume that it was done tactfully.

3. Remaining on good terms with the other Princes of the Noldor

A few examples of this:

Continuing from the preceding passage, “he remained for his part in friendship with the houses of Fingolfin and Finarfin, and would come among them at times for common counsel.” (“Of the Noldor in Beleriand”)

Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes.

Is it diplomatic? Yes: extra diplomacy points for taking it upon himself to go to them.

He (with Maglor) attended Mereth Aderthad, the Feast of Reuniting. (“Of the Noldor in Beleriand”)

Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes, though showing up to the High King’s peace party seems like pretty bare minimum lordly behaviour, not exemplary diplomacy.

Is it diplomatic? We don’t know except through the absence of any evidence to the contrary. Since the Mereth Aderthad was overall a diplomatic success, it’s reasonable to assume Maedhros contributed to that success and stayed on his best behaviour.

He (with Maglor) goes hunting with Finrod. (“Of the Coming of Men into the West”)

Is this an instance of diplomacy? Sure: a leisurely hunting trip with the cousin whose kin you once killed (oops) is a good move.

Is it diplomatic? Again, lacking evidence to the contrary, reasonable to assume Maedhros behaved himself and the trip went off without conflict.

Remaining on good terms in particular with “Fingon, ever the friend of Maedhros” (“Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”). The anecdote about the history of the Dragon-helm (below), which has it pass from Maedhros to Fingon, additionally attests that these two “often exchanged tokens of friendship.”

Is this an instance of diplomacy? Yes: in particular, the exchange of tokens of friendship between rulers.

Is it diplomatic? Unless we imagine Fingon was himself tactless (which is contradicted by what we’re told about him elsewhere) and their friendship was built around being mutually despicable (see: Celegorm and Curufin), fair to assume this was all done courteously.

4. Making alliances

with the Sindar

We know that many Sindar outside Doriath joined themselves to and followed the princes of the Noldor, presumably including the sons of Fëanor. (The Grey Annals §48 in The History of Middle-earth Vol. 11: The Wars of the Jewels, and elsewhere).

with the Dwarves

In the preparations for the Nirnaeth Arnoediad:

... Maedhros had the help of the Naugrim, both in armed force and in great store of weapons; and the smithies of Nogrod and Belegost were busy in those days. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”

Also, from the Narn i hîn Húrin in Unfinished Tales:

[The Dragon-helm of Dor-lómin] was given by Azaghâl to Maedhros, as guerdon for the saving of his life and treasure, when Azaghâl was waylaid by Orcs upon the Dwarf-road in East Beleriand.

Azaghâl then sacrifices himself and his people at the Nirnaeth, making the Fëanorian retreat possible.

with the Easterlings

But Maedhros, knowing the weakness of the Noldor and the Edain, whereas the pits of Angband seemed to hold store inexhaustible and ever-renewed, made alliance with these new-come Men, and gave his friendship to the greatest of their chieftains, Bor and Ulfang. And Morgoth was well content; for this was as he had designed. The sons of Bor were Borlad, Borlach, and Borthand; and they followed Maedhros and Maglor, and cheated the hope of Morgoth, and were faithful. The sons of Ulfang the Black were Ulfast, and Ulwarth, and Uldor the accursed; and they followed Caranthir and swore allegiance to him, and proved faithless. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”

the Union of Maedhros

Perhaps Maedhros' most-cited and most famous act of "diplomacy":

Yet Morgoth would destroy them all, one by one, if they could not again unite, and make new league and common council; and he began those counsels for the raising of the fortunes of the Eldar that are called the Union of Maedhros. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”

And [Maedhros] gathered together again all his brothers and all the people who would follow them; and the Men of Bor and Ulfang were marshalled and trained for war, and they summoned yet more of their kinsfolk out of the East. Moreover in the west Fingon, ever the friend of Maedhros, took counsel with Himring, and in Hithlum the Noldor and the Men of the house of Hador prepared for war. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”

Are these instances of diplomacy? Yes: protecting neighbours, gathering followers, establishing partnerships, forming alliances with other groups of peoples, and organising a major offensive on a common enemy.

Is it diplomatic? Again, absence to the contrary and general success suggests Maedhros conducted himself tactfully in all of these dealings. One thing: I have seen a tendency in fandom to credit superior leadership and diplomacy on the part of Maedhros and Maglor for the fact that their Easterling allies remain faithful while Caranthir’s do not. Maybe; but bear in mind that’s a deduction, not something the text explicitly states.

I am sure there are other tidbits here and there to support the diplomatic ability of Maedhros, but I think we have enough here to conclude the Maedhros the Diplomat is a fanon characterisation with support it in canon.

The Case against Maedhros the Diplomat

So Maedhros was a diplomat; but was Maedhros an exemplary diplomat, as the prominence of his characterisation as such would suggest, or just an average one? Let us look at some of Maedhros’ diplomatic failings.

1. hubris, attempted deception

Look: we can’t neglect that Maedhros is behind one of the most disastrous failures of diplomacy in the First Age — his attempt to parley with Morgoth that ends up getting him captured.

Though not in the published Silmarillion, in the 1937 Quenta Silmarillion, Fëanor with his dying breath tells his sons “never to treat or parley with their foe.” (§88). (Christopher Tolkien drew from a later text, the Grey Annals (1950s), for the account of the death of Fëanor in the published Silmarillion where this command does not exist.) I cannot help but laugh at the fact that following this exhortation Maedhros immediately turns around and attempts to parley with Morgoth and outwit him.

Perhaps diplomatic relations with Morgoth are impossible, but then why accept the offer to parley at all? And what’s up with trying to beat Morgoth at his own game (deceit)? Honestly, Maedhros. Not your best moment.

We can say that he learned from this, but it does put into question the idea that Maedhros’ diplomatic training and excellence go back to his Valinorean days.

2. disdain of and aloofness towards another ruler

We saw how Maedhros restrained his brothers in the council where Angrod brought news from Thingol, but what about how Maedhros himself behaved at that council?

Cold seemed its welcome to the Noldor, and the sons of Fëanor were angered at the words; but Maedhros laughed, saying: ‘A king is he that can hold his own, or else his title is vain. Thingol does but grant us lands where his power does not run. Indeed Doriath alone would be his realm this day, but for the coming of the Noldor. Therefore in Doriath let him reign, and be glad that he has the sons of Finwë for his neighbours, not the Orcs of Morgoth that we found. Elsewhere it shall go as seems good to us.’ The Silmarillion, “Of the Return of the Noldor”

Fandom loves the line and I can’t disagree that it’s an epic mic drop. But was this really the most diplomatic thing to say? In the Grey Annals, it is said that “the sons of Fëanor were ever unwilling to accept the overlordship of Thingol, and would ask for no leave where they might dwell or might pass.” (§48). (Interestingly, there does seem to have been a point, before word of the kinslaying at Alqualondë was out, that Thingol for his part was at least neutral on them, saying, “Of his sons I hear little to my pleasure; yet they are likely to prove the deadliest foes of our foe” (“Of the Noldor in Beleriand”)). Arriving at a new place and refusing to treat with the person who claims kingship of those lands — and apparently for no other reason besides disdain of that person’s ability as a ruler — doesn’t seem particularly diplomatic.

3. not supporting a superior's initiative

We saw evidence of Maedhros cooperating with the other princes of the Noldor, but that doesn't mean he threw his support behind them at every occasion to do so. When Fingolfin — supposedly, thanks for Maedhros, High King and his superior — tries to rally the Noldor to assault Angband, almost everyone was “little disposed to hearken to Fingolfin, and the sons of Fëanor at that time least of all.” (“Of the Ruin of Beleriand”).

This statement is frustratingly vague so I won’t speculate much besides to suggest that there could be something suspect — and undiplomatic — behind failing to support the initiative of the High King to whom you so graciously ceded your claim.

4. Oath-related diplomatic failures (kinslayings)

The extent to which the oath is to blame for events is a sticky issue and not the subject of this analysis, but since fulfilling the oath is essential to Maedhros’ character, it’s impossible to avoid it entirely.

The narrator of the Silmarillion is actually quite generous towards Maedhros when discussing the role of the oath in his failings, so it’s no surprise that many fans are likewise generous.

For example:

I quoted above the passage about Maedhros taking “the chief peril of assault” upon himself and remaining “for his part in friendship with the houses of Fingolfin and Finarfin,” and it is perhaps the strongest evidence for Maedhros’ diplomatic excellence. It also ends with the ominous words: “Yet he also was bound by the oath, though it slept now for a time.” (“Of the Return of the Noldor”)

And when the concept of the Union of Maedhros is introduced, we are told: “Yet the oath of Fëanor and the evil deeds that it had wrought did injury to the design of Maedhros, and he had less aid than should have been.” (“Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”).

Both of these passages remind us that the oath — a vow to vengeance — is in the long-term at cross-purposes with cooperation and diplomacy.

This becomes especially evident when a Silmaril ends up in the hands of those who should be allies: other elves.

For Maedhros and his brothers, being constrained by their oath, had before sent to Thingol and reminded him with haughty words of their claim, summoning him to yield the Silmaril, or become their enemy. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”

The narrator pins this failure of diplomacy on the oath. But, as Maglor will point out in his final moments with Maedhros, the oath does not state how and when they must fulfill it. Is it a mark of a good diplomat to use “haughty” words in making a request? And what about what follows Thingol’s refusal?

Therefore [Thingol] sent back the messengers with scornful words. Maedhros made no answer, for he had now begun to devise the league and union of the Elves; but Celegorm and Curufin vowed openly to slay Thingol and destroy his people, if they came victorious from war, and the jewel were not surrendered of free will. The Silmarillion, “Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad”

What do you mean, “made no answer”? The narrator explains this away by saying essentially that Maedhros was too busy to bother, but is it the most diplomatic to just… stop communicating with the king who had the Silmaril, and whose support would really be quite nice to have in the upcoming war? And what about Celegorm and Curufin’s decidedly undiplomatic threat? Long gone are the days of effective brother-wrangling, apparently. (So far gone, in fact, that by the time Celegorm carries through on his threat and the sons of Feanor attack Doriath, Maedhros seems to have deferred to Celegorm’s leadership.)

The oath is again blamed for Maedhros’ change of course regarding the Silmaril at the Havens of Sirion. Having initially “withheld his hand”:

… the knowledge of their oath unfulfilled returned to torment [Maedhros] and his brothers, and gathering from their wandering hunting-paths they sent messages to the Havens of friendship and yet of stern demand. The Silmarillion, “Of the Voyage of Eärendil and the War of Wrath”

As with the “haughty words” to Thingol, was “stern demand” the most diplomatic approach? Would better diplomacy have made a difference? Well, maybe. I don’t think the discussion between Maedhros and Maglor was inserted into the narrative without thematic purpose — and one of those purposes is, I think, to reveal the slippery space of conflict between obligation and choice; between that which must be done and how it’s done; between the morality of keeping one’s word and the morality of doing the right thing.

Does the oath itself turn an otherwise mild and affable Maedhros into someone haughty and stern? Or are those flaws he already had and which are brought to the fore by the constraint of the oath? Well, examine the evidence for yourself — and allow the imagination to roam.

Final assessment: Maedhros is a good diplomat, certainly compared to his closest kinsmen. But just like Maedhros isn’t the tallest (no, really, he’s not — but that’s another excavation), he’s perhaps also not the best diplomat on the political stage of First Age Beleriand.

[1] If we go beyond the published Silmarillion to the “Shibboleth of Fëanor” (in History of Middle-earth Vol. 12: The Peoples of Middle-earth), we learn that he was a red-head and apparently “well-shaped.” For an author who is notoriously sparse with physical description, Tolkien did seem to have a lot of ideas about what Maedhros looked liked!

Addendum: Maedhros the Scholar

“Diplomat and Scholar” do seem to go hand-in-hand in the fandom’s most popular versions of Maedhros, but I focused on the former for this Ask because there really isn’t much in canon to directly support Maedhros’ skill as a scholar.

The Noldor, as a culture, are loremasters. Fëanor, Maedhros’ father, was one of the most notable of these loremasters, even credited with founding the school of Lambengolmor, Loremasters of Tongues ( in the essay Quendi and Eldar in The History of Middle-earth Vol. 11: The War of the Jewels).

But, when Tolkien gives examples of elven loremasters, who, he says, were also “the greatest kings, princes and warriors,” he names Fëanor, Finrod, the lords of Gondolin, and Orodreth. No mention of Maedhros. And, when discussing which sons of Fëanor took an interest in language, he mentions not the eldest, but Maglor and Curufin. (Both in The Shibboleth of Fëanor.)

So there’s nothing in canon to suggest that Maedhros wasn’t a scholarly type, but it’s not something he’s noted for. His most remarkable trait remains “tall”.

[thesummerestsolstice]

Beleriand is gone and Tol Himling remains. No one lives there, few dare to venture close. Even years later, the fortress feels like bitter grief and pained endurance.

The remaining Noldor– and there aren't many of them by the Second Age– start sailing there. It's not far from the shore; an easy enough journey, even for someone with little seafaring experience.

One day, someone– no one is sure who– takes one of the broken pieces of Himling's walls, carves Maedhros's name into it, and sets it as a tombstone. After that, more graves appear, slowly at first, then more quickly. Old battle-songs and tributes to the dead are carved and painted into the walls. Soon, the meadow around the old fortress is full of memorials, some made from the ruins, others lovingly crafted and brought from the mainland. For all the Noldor fought amongst themselves in the First Age, now their headstoens stand together. In the cemetery, the House of Finwe is united in death as it never was in life. Graves for Feanor and Fingolfin sit side-by-side in a sorrowful peace neither lived to see.

Himring stood on an icy mountaintop where the snow never melted, but Tol Himling does not. One spring the barren meadow blooms, red poppies and blue forget-me-nots. It flowers every year after, new hues and blossoms appearing annurally until the graves are surrounded by a colorful sea of flowers.

Not many Noldor choose to sail west– most that go back to Valinor go in death– but those that do leave tokens on Himling before they leave, broken weapons and battered armor. Maybe they do it to leave something with the dead who may never return from Mandos. Maybe they do it because like the dead, their fight in Middle-Earth has ended.

Men who sail by the island– always by, never to– are very sure that there are ghosts there. To them, the place seems strange and misted, and every figure there looks like a shade. They speak of a golden-haired warrior who spends hours talking to some of the graves, a king who dutifully cares for the tombstones, wiping away dust and moss, the strange dark-haired figure who comes every year to sow wildflower seeds. But those aren't the spirits of the Noldor dead. Only those who would remember them.

[nerdanelparmandil]

Yes, Fingon rescued Maedhros because of the strife between their families , yes, there are few mentions of them together in the rest of the Silmarillion, but...he braved Angband. For him! He braved hell, and brought him back, and was ready to kill him to bring him mercy and release.

Because if Fingon had went, killed Maedhros and returned empty handed, would the conflict not have escalated even further? Yet, he was ready to risk that, because Maedhros begged him.

(What was the political justification behind such a daring action? Did Morgoth send them constant reminders/proof that Maedhros was indeed alive? Was Maedhros so vital in keeping his people and his brothers in check - was he so beloved by his people that they would not strive for peace or recognise another king while the hope of him being alive remained? Were none of the Noldor in Fingolfin's host really comfortable with the idea of "usurping" his crown and be done with it? Like yes, I know that the Feanorians would have never, and if the Nolofinweans had even tried, war would have ensued - but what did Fingon *really* think rescuing Maedhros would accomplish? Had he faith that Maedhros would be reasonable enough, skilled enough, to solve the strife, instead of opposing Fingolfin? Was he sure that the Feanorians would have felt so indebted to him that they would put aside their strife? How much the political overlap with...love and hope?)

And Fingon did the impossible, and only Beren and Luthien ever entered Angband, and similarly, only Frodo and Sam braved Mordor.

He did it for his people, but what spurred him on was their ancient friendship, and hope, and the very obvious but significant fact that you do not leave someone you love to suffer in the hands of the enemy, no matter how unlikely the rescue is. Yet, only Fingon dared.

The Valiant indeed.

[thelordofgifs]

hmm Fingon as the embodiment of hope in the Silmarillion and Maedhros as the embodiment of despair. something about how the only time Maedhros did dare to hope – when putting the Union together – it resulted in Fingon’s death and large-scale catastrophe, the death of hope in Beleriand. something about how Fingon goes to his (fiery!) death still filled with optimism – utúlie'n aurë! – and Maedhros goes to his (very fiery!) death with only desolation. something about how Maedhros begs for death on Thangorodrim, but is rescued by the combined efforts of Fingon and an Eagle – the literal embodiment of eucatastrophe, hope unfounded, the thing with feathers – and, in the end, chooses death anyway. something about how, if the silm were not a tragedy, hope would have outlived despair, but instead it is beaten into the dust of the Anfauglith and the banners trod into the mire of its blood. idk is this anything.