I don’t think Maedhros stopped praying when he left Valinor, even once the Valar had forsaken his family and banished them. Maybe it was habit maybe it was comfort but I don’t think he stopped.
Nor do I think he stopped when he was captured by The Enemy. I think it became his sole source of hope that someone who cared would hear him and free him one way or the other and in a sense that prayer was answered.
I don’t even think it stopped when Fingon died. I think Maedhros prayed he’d find peace and safety in Mandos. I think he prayed he’d be home safe soon. I think he was grateful that no matter the end the person he loved most was at last out of harms way.
No he stopped praying after Doriath. The night he lost so much. The night he lost three brothers. The night that Celegorm bled out in his arms going out of the world quietly, in stark contrast to how he entered it. But it was not those deaths that stopped his prayers, he knew his brother’s wrongs, the harm they’d done. He knew with as much pain as it brought him they deserved it.
He stopped praying when he lost two little boys in the woods. When in desperation with tears freezing on his cheeks he called out with the simplest prayer you can “please.” He was met only with the bite of the frost and the cold moonlight and the colder indifference of gods that claimed to be loving. When Fingon had reached out in a moment of need despite his own banishment an eagle had been sent. To save Maedhros’ wind and war torn soul. But when Maedhros asked them to save two little princes lost in the woods there was only silence and contempt.
Yes I think he only stopped praying after that. When he was good and sure he was alone.
I enjoy drawing in this style 🥰
Thingol hating on Maedhros is so crazy hilarious to me because imagine beefing with your bestfriend's grandson
Morwen and Hurin
#OMG???? #This killed me
Maglor/ Maglor and Maedhros
⚘️⚘️⚘️
you are a god's best friend. the world is young still, and you are yet younger. he rides with you and hunts with you, and teaches you how to speak to birds and beasts. you are a god's student. you ride in his train and care for a hound that he gifted to you. gods have taught others before. gods have been kindly to others before. your god is your best friend. he gifts you something of his self, a hound of his own hunt.
you are your father's son. your grandfather is dead. no one has ever called you wise, and you are, above all else, your father's son. he swears a terrible oath. you swear a terrible oath. you don't know if you really mean it, but your mother named you well- you are hasty to rise, hasty to run into things. the hunt teaches you patience but you cannot outrun yourself. you are your father's son.
you are a god's best friend and you have sworn a terrible oath, but it is an oath that you hope that your friend can understand. to hunt the murderer of your grandfather, is something that the god of the hunt can understand.
you are your father's son. the blood of elves on your hands does not feel different than the blood of a deer, except in the tight feeling of your throat. except in the thunderous beating of your heart. you tell your brother, who is trying not to throw up, that you need to think of them like deer. he looks at you like he's never seen you before. you are forever doomed.
you are a god's best friend. he does not say goodbye, but your dog comes with you. surely you can fix this, then, surely you are still a god's friend.
you are your father's son. he dies. he dies but before he does, he tells you to burn the boats. you do. you are your father's son. your father dies and, he tells you to swear that oath once more. it is a terrible oath. you have sworn it once. you swore to your best friend once. surely it will not tip the scales to swear once more, if in your mind, you dedicate this hunt to him.
you were a god's best friend, and it is not enough. you are your father's son, and you speak your father's oath. it proceeds to eat you alive.
Me, a youngest sibling: FINARFINFINARFINFINARFINNNNN THE POOR GUY HE WAS PROBABLY SO LONELY AND SAD AFTER EVERYONE LEFT BECAUSE AS A YOUNGEST SIBLING YOU’VE NEVER BEEN ALONE, LITERALLY ALWAYS SURROUNDED BY FAMILY AND THE BURDEN OF TAKING THIS CROWN THAT WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE HIS BECAUSE THERE WERE LITERALLY ALL OF FËANOR’S THEN FINGOLFIN’S KIDS BEFORE HIM AND THEY’RE AN IMMORTAL RACE ANYWAY SO IT NEVER EVEN CROSSED HIS MIND AND HE PROBABLY THOUGHT OF HIS BROTHERS EVERY TIME HE HAD TO PUT THE STUPID CROWN ON HIS HEAD AND SILENTLY WEPT BY HIMSELF BECAUSE WHO WAS LEFT TO UNDERSTAND THE LOVE ARAFINWË STILL HELD FOR HIS BIG BROTHERS-
Nelyo scribble.
Again, about how the Legendarium begins and ends in fire...
Melkor being drawn to the Flame Imperishable started a whole story. The One Ring perished in the fire, and new beginning was made.
Fëanáro born in fire started a compilation of his actions. As he died in fire, a new era was made.
Maedhros coming back as fire provoked a flipping of narratives. Dying in fire started a new Age.
However, Nerdanel, while starting in fire, did not end in fire. She ended in water, where her story will remain to be written and mourned, and never ended and never started anew.
The same goes for her son, Maglor, who held fire in his soul, and did not end in fire, instead walking along the shores that separate him and his kindred.
In Tolkien, fire is of endings turning into new beginnings.
In Tolkien, water is of a story that never quite ends and that never quite begins afresh, forever haunting the timeline.