A Chain of Love
I thought I would die. No, I knew I would die. It was told
once that kwendi are immortal, but Finwe died, and then
Feanor too. I don't know my destiny and the destiny of my
people, but when Maedhros cried out to me and implored me to
kill him, I was sure I'd have to do it. And then I would
surely die.
Maybe I'm wrong to let the memory rule me. Feanor betrayed
us, and my father always said that sons shared father's
guilt. I listened and agreed, but then the nights came, and
in my dreams Maedhros was again walking besides me in the
forests of Valinor, hunting, exploring, and always talking.
We used to talk about everything, to agree and disagree
thousands of times in one day. And I thought this would be
our life forever.
And then things changed. Who brought the changes on is not
for me to decide. Morgoth *is* evil, and much of the blame
is on him; but Feanor's fiery spirit led him too fast and
too far. I don't want to talk about Feanor; he hurt my
father and I can't forget about it. I would not talk about
him at all, were he not Maedhros's father. No son can be
blamed for following his father, and besides that I never
could put much blame on Maedhros.
Even that terrible day when we saw the fire far away and
understood that we were betrayed, I couldn't hate Maedhros.
I only felt a heavy sadness cloak me and dim everything
around. It stayed with me all the long and dreadful way
across the ice, when my companions started to fall around
me. I knew my Maedhros; there was no hate in him, only love.
And if his love for his father took things to this point,
what could I do? What could I change? I couldn't even hate
Feanor, so tired and numb I felt inside. Sometimes I started
to thik I was the guilty one, because my father and so many
of my friends did not feel this call of the Middle-earth and
were just following me. And then my thoughts flowed in
another direction, and I saw this fated journey as a long
chain of hearts calling to hearts: Maedhros and his brothers
following Feanor, me following Maedhros, my father following
me... How many answered this call to go on a quest started
by hate and pride? Were we all doomed?
And then we came to Middle-earth, and the Sun had risen. The
past lived under the stars should have gone away, but it
didn't. We were still ruled by our memories, loves and
hates, hurts and mistakes. Morgoth retreated, but his
heritage of betrayal and distrust separated the noldors more
than the water of the lake.
I felt that I couldn't live like this. Not that things would
stay like this; Morgoth would soon be back, I knew. We kept
to our side of the lake, but we heard news anyway. News
about Feanor. And Maedhros. That's when I went to
Thangorodrim.
The way there was easy. The dark sadness in my heart matched
the darkness outside. Nobody stopped me in this vast
emptiness. I started to thin the place *was* absolutely
empty, and despaired of ever finding my friend. That's when
I took out the harp that was always with me and started to
sing an old song of Valinor, one that we often sang
together. The light beautiful tune sounded strange and alien
in this place suited for groans and cries of pain. But soon
another voice answered mine. Maedhros joined the song, as he
used to do in Valinor. But how weak and pained his voice
was! I hurried towards the sound, annd here he was at last.
I saw him on top of that rock, chained by his wrist, and I
knew I had no way of going up to him. My journey was in
vain. And then he saw me. And cried out to me, asking me to
kill him.
I couldn't leave him in such pain, truly I couldn't. I
lifted my bow, my heart already staring to break. Afraid
that even this one last thing would be beyond my abilities,
that my arrow would miss, I cried out to Manwe, imploring
him to take pity on the noldors just once and to direct the
flight of my arrow. And then I prepared to shoot.
Manwe heard me. The answer came, just not the one I was
expecting. The great eagle swooped down and stopped my hand.
Torondor, the Lord of Eagles, came to help me by Manwe's
mercy. He took me up to where Maedhros was chained. So close
to him, I not only heard the pain in his voice, I saw it in
his widely open eyes, in his face, half covered by his
matted hair. This sight in turn filled me by pain. I
remembered his easy smile and graceful bearing, his eyes
lighting everything around him. I knew I had to hurry,
because I couldn't bear his pain.
But the magic chains wouldn't give way; it was impossible to
break them or to tear them out. I saw despair in Maedhros's
face. "Please, kill me, Fingon, I can't stand it anymore!"
he cried. But I knew I couldn't. Not now, face to face with
him, when he filled all my senses, drew me with his heat and
called me with his pain. I don't know whether I could kill
him from afar, and now, thanks to Manwe, I will never know,
but now I couldn't even think about it. So I did the only
thing I could do - I took my dagger and cut off his hand
just above the wrist.
I don't know if he felt the pain; I was too tired to think
about it. I just caught him in my arms and let Torondor
carry us away. I know that when we're back at Mithrim, there
will be problems to solve and things to discuss. There's
still Morgoth; we won't have any rest till this struggle is
resolved one way or another. I remember the oath of Feanor
that Maedhros also gave, as I remember everything about him.
But there will be time for it. I know I can face the future
now, holding Maedhros close to me, chained to him by an
invisible chain of love.
End
I thought I would die. No, I knew I would die. It was told
once that kwendi are immortal, but Finwe died, and then
Feanor too. I don't know my destiny and the destiny of my
people, but when Maedhros cried out to me and implored me to
kill him, I was sure I'd have to do it. And then I would
surely die.
Maybe I'm wrong to let the memory rule me. Feanor betrayed
us, and my father always said that sons shared father's
guilt. I listened and agreed, but then the nights came, and
in my dreams Maedhros was again walking besides me in the
forests of Valinor, hunting, exploring, and always talking.
We used to talk about everything, to agree and disagree
thousands of times in one day. And I thought this would be
our life forever.
And then things changed. Who brought the changes on is not
for me to decide. Morgoth *is* evil, and much of the blame
is on him; but Feanor's fiery spirit led him too fast and
too far. I don't want to talk about Feanor; he hurt my
father and I can't forget about it. I would not talk about
him at all, were he not Maedhros's father. No son can be
blamed for following his father, and besides that I never
could put much blame on Maedhros.
Even that terrible day when we saw the fire far away and
understood that we were betrayed, I couldn't hate Maedhros.
I only felt a heavy sadness cloak me and dim everything
around. It stayed with me all the long and dreadful way
across the ice, when my companions started to fall around
me. I knew my Maedhros; there was no hate in him, only love.
And if his love for his father took things to this point,
what could I do? What could I change? I couldn't even hate
Feanor, so tired and numb I felt inside. Sometimes I started
to thik I was the guilty one, because my father and so many
of my friends did not feel this call of the Middle-earth and
were just following me. And then my thoughts flowed in
another direction, and I saw this fated journey as a long
chain of hearts calling to hearts: Maedhros and his brothers
following Feanor, me following Maedhros, my father following
me... How many answered this call to go on a quest started
by hate and pride? Were we all doomed?
And then we came to Middle-earth, and the Sun had risen. The
past lived under the stars should have gone away, but it
didn't. We were still ruled by our memories, loves and
hates, hurts and mistakes. Morgoth retreated, but his
heritage of betrayal and distrust separated the noldors more
than the water of the lake.
I felt that I couldn't live like this. Not that things would
stay like this; Morgoth would soon be back, I knew. We kept
to our side of the lake, but we heard news anyway. News
about Feanor. And Maedhros. That's when I went to
Thangorodrim.
The way there was easy. The dark sadness in my heart matched
the darkness outside. Nobody stopped me in this vast
emptiness. I started to thin the place *was* absolutely
empty, and despaired of ever finding my friend. That's when
I took out the harp that was always with me and started to
sing an old song of Valinor, one that we often sang
together. The light beautiful tune sounded strange and alien
in this place suited for groans and cries of pain. But soon
another voice answered mine. Maedhros joined the song, as he
used to do in Valinor. But how weak and pained his voice
was! I hurried towards the sound, annd here he was at last.
I saw him on top of that rock, chained by his wrist, and I
knew I had no way of going up to him. My journey was in
vain. And then he saw me. And cried out to me, asking me to
kill him.
I couldn't leave him in such pain, truly I couldn't. I
lifted my bow, my heart already staring to break. Afraid
that even this one last thing would be beyond my abilities,
that my arrow would miss, I cried out to Manwe, imploring
him to take pity on the noldors just once and to direct the
flight of my arrow. And then I prepared to shoot.
Manwe heard me. The answer came, just not the one I was
expecting. The great eagle swooped down and stopped my hand.
Torondor, the Lord of Eagles, came to help me by Manwe's
mercy. He took me up to where Maedhros was chained. So close
to him, I not only heard the pain in his voice, I saw it in
his widely open eyes, in his face, half covered by his
matted hair. This sight in turn filled me by pain. I
remembered his easy smile and graceful bearing, his eyes
lighting everything around him. I knew I had to hurry,
because I couldn't bear his pain.
But the magic chains wouldn't give way; it was impossible to
break them or to tear them out. I saw despair in Maedhros's
face. "Please, kill me, Fingon, I can't stand it anymore!"
he cried. But I knew I couldn't. Not now, face to face with
him, when he filled all my senses, drew me with his heat and
called me with his pain. I don't know whether I could kill
him from afar, and now, thanks to Manwe, I will never know,
but now I couldn't even think about it. So I did the only
thing I could do - I took my dagger and cut off his hand
just above the wrist.
I don't know if he felt the pain; I was too tired to think
about it. I just caught him in my arms and let Torondor
carry us away. I know that when we're back at Mithrim, there
will be problems to solve and things to discuss. There's
still Morgoth; we won't have any rest till this struggle is
resolved one way or another. I remember the oath of Feanor
that Maedhros also gave, as I remember everything about him.
But there will be time for it. I know I can face the future
now, holding Maedhros close to me, chained to him by an
invisible chain of love.
End