I can see the skeleton of our house weighing down on you.
You of all people, little song bird, you are the last I think who would lose their mind to the darkness.
For you were always the most gentle of our brothers. Gentle and kind. You raised our brothers alongside me, while our father was busy in his tasks. You were always the sweetest one, the child who would never cause problems, who would rather resolve them. You were the one most often moved to tears, from the words our brothers said, from the beasts Tyelkormo had slain in his hunts.
There are things that you and I must never speak of, the doom and torment you left me to, so many years ago. We will never speak of these things. They were only addressed when Carnistir slung them upon our council tables, in an effort to wound you and bring conflict between us. But Carnister is slain, and those things are passed and I hope that you will forget them.
But now, what do have before me?
A crazed person I barely recognize. What do you mean to do with the children, Maglor? I'm not sure that even you know.
This desire for bloodshed in your eyes. Do I even know you anymore? You say that you will slit the throats of the little ones, and you beg me to hurl my sword through Fingon's son's chest if he stands in your way. What do you hope you can accomplish through them?
Please do not leave me here, brother. If I am saddled by your sorrow and bridled by your guilt, then I can never walk free.
To see you in this torment rends my soul, for you are no longer the elf I knew in Valinor. Pure of soul and filled with song. But you sing no longer, and your spirit is filled with the Oath and not the Music anymore.
And it would be worse, Makalaurë, to lose you to madness than to find you dead. Watching your slow spiral into delirium would eclipse all the other horrors our house has committed. I spent a lifetime in protecting my brothers, but I never had to worry for you, because you would always be there by my side. Ready to defend me and our people against the fire that corrupted our brothers. The Oath that moved their hands to acts of harsh cruelty. I was pained to watch them fall, one by one, but I came to expect it.
But you? Please not you! You cannot leave me to this fate. To be ever ringed in by a circle of madmen.
Perhaps I was wrong about you, for all those long years. I thought you a timid fire in the shade of our father and brothers. But perhaps you knew how to contain the flame, and maintain your fire, and keep pressing on, ever on, through darkness. Maybe that is your gift, to never relent, even when all the flames and the shadows surround you. And maybe all along you were right. The only one who counselled caution. The only one who told us to hold back. Perhaps all the weight of what we have done was like fuel to your fire and it's now a blaze too large for you to tame anymore.
You cannot be mad. You are the only one left, you who I believed could not be swept under the horrid tide of words that our father swore. You, you alone, I thought could somehow rise above them!
Your left me alone before, please do not do so again.
Just please, do not leave me to this, an unending lifetime of making sure that you are well. Saying words that you don't mean in order to gain my trust, until complacency sets in while you sit crouched and waiting to spring.
Please, Makalaurë. Don't leave me alone in this darkness.
For all my other brothers are lost to me, and I am left with your madness.
And I cannot bear it.
Tyelkormor-Celegorm, Carnistir-Caranthir, Makalaurë-Maglor...but you knew that already, didn't you?
Maedhros gets a raw deal, once again...Don't worry, Maglor chills out and things work out ok (relatively speaking).
In my headcannon, Gil-Galad tried to save Elrond and Elros from Maglor and Maedhros after Sirion fell, but was unsuccessful. We're also going with the Silmarillion here and saying Gil-Galad was Fingon's son, even though it was later revised in HoME.
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