Please note: the Characters belong to Professor Tolkien's estate. The
words to the songs belong to: Doctor and the Medics, Fred Ebb, Flanders
and Swann, The Rolling Stones and Queen. I've just borrowed them and
tortured them silly.
Maedhros and Fingon - the silly slashy version
In the light of the trees they wandered, looking for something to do. Until Morgoth introduced them to swords and spears and hide the helmet, there was very little to do in Valinor. Fëanor was off making the Silmarils, though nobody knew that yet. So Maedhros the Tall wandered alone on a green hill in Valinor. And lo! he heard a voice upraised in song. (to the tune of 'Spirit in the Sky') 'So I live and they've brought me to rest Wandering all round the place that's the best Trying to find a new way to get high Flying on up to Manwë in the sky.
'Flying on up to Manwë in the sky Trying to find a new way to get high When I'm high and I'm stretched out to rest I know I'm in the place that's the best.
'Now ask yourself, you know that you must, Gotta have a friend in Fingon, So you know you can get high, He'll help me on up to Manwë in the sky.'
And he saw the singer approach over the brow of the hill. It was Fingon, a slender elf. And he saw that Fingon was very fair. Specifically, with blond flowing hair, ethereal cheekbones and a set of muscles in a very tight tunic. Never mind the fact that he was his cousin, Maedhros saw some opportunities for entertainment here. He entered the singing:
'Flying on up to Manwë in the sky Trying to find a new way to get high When I'm high and I'm stretched out to rest I know I'm in the place that's the best.
'Ever tried it with an elf-lad? Someone said it wouldn't be bad. So we'll find a new way to get high, Before ya set me up with Manwë in the sky
'Flying on up to Manwë in the sky Trying to find a new way to get high. When I'm high and I'm stretched out to rest I know I'm in the place that's the best.'
'Hail, fair Fingon. Wilt thou tarry yet awhile? I would have speech with thee.' So Fingon tarried, and they spoke together (they'd known each other for a long time already, but even bored elves don't leap straight at each other without any preliminaries). And while they spoke their hands clasped. And they moved closer to each other. And closer. And that's close enough. No it's not. Closer. And Fingon placed his arm round Maedhros' shoulder. Maedhros wasn't quite sure what they were talking about any more, but it didn't really matter. Something about the trees he thought. Quite by chance his hand happened to rest on Fingon's thigh. He really was rather a handsome elf. At this point, Fingon pushed him back onto the grass and leant over and kissed him. Maedhros was not complaining at all. His very tight elven leggings were beginning to feel inconvenient. He pulled Fingon down on top of him. Unfortunately, they're doing all this out on an open hillside, and elves have very keen eyesight. So everyone saw what they were doing, from a discreet distance, that is. Anyway, everyone saw them shagging like a pair of rabbits on speed. And then they started again. Nothing could disturb them until Fëanor came out of hiding with the Silmarils. Everyone was very impressed, but Maedhros was desperate to be back at Fingon, and Fingon was worried. Though they held the light of the trees so perfectly, he was a little bit worried. He knew that elven nature wasn't as pure as it looked, and thought that the Silmarils were probably trouble. And he was right. They gave Morgoth an ideal opportunity to spread lives. Maedhros and Fingon didn't notice it really, as they were giving those bunnies on speed a run for their money. And again. And again. And while they were apart, they took great care to dress for the next meeting in tight silks and fine gems. They spent hours braiding their hair. 'Morgoth? What about Morgoth?' said Fingon one day. 'Look, I'm on my way to see Maedhros. Back soon.' But he never saw Maedhros. For on that very morning Fëanor had been banned from the city of the Valar, and he had taken his sons with him to Formenos, where he had a great stronghold. And Maedhros sat in Formenos for many years, writing bad poetry to his elvish love, and thinking of horrible things to do to his father with the Silmarils. Fingon was of course having a damn good time with Turgon, though he thought often of Maedhros, whom he loved deeply. Very deeply. Almost as deeply as Beren would love Luthien.
And Maedhros sang: (to the tune of 'Can't get no (satisfaction)') 'I can't get no satisfaction I can't get no satisfaction cos I tried and I tried and I tried and tried. I can't get no I can't get no When I 'm sitting in my room there's some elf who's telling me more and more some useless information supposed to fire my imagination
'I can't get no, no no no hey hey hey that's what I say. I cant get no satisfaction I can't get no satisfaction cos I tried and I tried and I tried and tried. I can't get no I can't get no
'when I'm watching my love and an elf comes on to tell me how white my shirts can be and he can't be a elf cos he doesn't know the same elves as me.
'I can't get no, no no hey hey hey. that's what I say
'I can't get no satisfaction , I can't get no elven action cos I tried and I tried and I tried and tried. I can't get no I can't get no
'When I'm waiting to go out and I'm doing this and I'm doing that and I'm trying to meet some elf hey baby come back maybe next week cos I can't move from this here sheet.
'I can't get no, no no hey hey hey that's what I say. I can't get no I can't get no satisfaction no satisfaction no satisfaction no satisfaction.' When Fëanor returned to Tirion, Maedhros begged to be allowed to go with him, to gaze upon his love. But Fëanor forbade it, and counselled him to remain to protect the stronghold, for he did not trust his kin. And so it was that Fingon was at the feast, looking his very best in some fabulous purple silks with matching accessories, but Maedhros was not. And Maedhros was in Formenos when Ungoliant came thither. He saw her huge bulk and fled over the horizon, into the darkness where the light of the trees once was. He recked not that Morgoth might take the treasures of Fëanor, and as he ran, he encountered a slim form running the other way. 'OUCH! Watch where you're going.' 'Well I like that, fine way to greet someone you haven't seen for over a decade' 'Fingon!' 'Yes, of course.' And Maedhros embraced him very tightly and began kissing him very passionately, running his hands down Fingon's back, and finally tearing away the purple tunic. He'd had several years to think of obscene things to do to Fingon's elfhood, and now he was going to try some of them. Unfortunately he'd left most of his leather and jewellery in Formenos, so there were quite a few things he couldn't try. Fingon seemed very eager to see him, or rather feel him, despite his initial reaction. Very soon more clothing was being cast in the darkness and Fingon was reminded very urgently why Maedhros was called Maedhros and why exactly he was nicknamed 'the Tall'. The scattered clothing proved to be a bit of a problem later, when they tried to get dressed again. however, for the moment, dressing was the last thing on their minds, as Maedhros ran his hands through Fingon's hair. So they shagged like rabbits on speed, and like cats in heat, and then they shagged like bunnies on speed again. They stopped this when they realised that things had quietened down and the only screaming elves for leagues were themselves. Once they had dressed themselves and wandered to where there were people with torches, they noticed that they had the wrong tunics. However, the elves were too busy listening to the words of Fëanor to bother about them, so they had a quick kiss and cuddle at the back of the crowd, while Fëanor vowed to go to middle earth to recover the Silmarils. And he called his sons to him, and they swore a terrible oath to Ilúvatar, to hunt down any who laid their hands on the Silmarils. Maedhros was still a bit out of breath, and wearing the wrong tunic, but he didn't mind. And Fingon went to rejoin his father. He realised then that his father was wavering, he was unsure whether to follow Fëanor, so he urged him to accompany them, out of his desire and love for Maedhros the Spumy and Tall. In the long run, this was possibly not a wise thing to do, but it's a bit late to worry about it now.
The great host of the elves set forth, with Fëanor and his sons in the vanguard. Leading the house of Fingolfin was Fingon. So when Fëanor reached the sea, and fought those who had the boats, Fingon was the first to see Maedhros in peril, so he rushed in to help him, his armour shining bright, his spear sharply pointed and his helmet gleaming. Maedhros was in no position to appreciate this, however, though he was later that night, when they made those bunnies hop like mad again. Even for elves, they had a lot of energy. But the next night, Maedhros had been left in charge of the ships, and whilst he was sleeping, his father and brothers slipped on board and they rowed away from the shore. When he awoke, Maedhros was furious, and he sang: (to the tune of Mozart's Horn concerto no.1, words from Flanders and Swann). I once had a whim and I had to obey it to find a new elf in a Valinor shop I polished him up and I started to play him in spite of the neighbours who begged me to stop. To sound my elf I had to develop my embouchure I found my elf was a bit of devil to play. So artfully wound to give you a sound, a beautiful sound so rich and round. Oh the hours I had to spend before I mastered him in the end. But that was yesterday and just today I looked in the usual place: there was the case but the elf itself was missing. Oh where can he have gone have you, hasn't anyone seen my elf? Oh where can he have gone, oh what a blow, now I know I'm unable to play my allegro. Who swiped that elf? I'll bet you a spear somebody did, knowing I'd found a new bedroom and wanted to use it, afraid of my talent at playing the elf, for early to day to my utter dismay he had vanished away like the dew in the morn. I've lost that elf; I know I was using him yesterday. I've lost that elf, lost that elf, found that elf pelf. There's not much use my saying that I'm likely to pay a reward. I know some hearty folk whose party joke is pretending to hunt with the Sea. Spume away spume away - was it one of them took him away? Will you kindly return that elf? Oh where is the devil that pinched my elf? I shall call the Valar! I want that new elf back. I miss his music more and more and more. Without that elf I'm feeling sad and so forlorn ooooo I found a new bedroom I wanted to play it to display my talent at playing the elf but early to day to my utter dismay he had totally vanished away. I practised the elf and I wanted to play him but somebody took him away I practised the elf and was longing to play him but somebody took him away my neighbours are sleeping in bed I'll see that they'll wish they was dead I'll take up with Morgoth instead. Wah Wah
At which display of pique his brothers and father left him, gazing westward over the sea to where Fingon was sleeping. And soon they reached the hither shore, and Maedhros went to his father and said, 'And will you send ships and rowers back now? and who shall they bring first, Fingon the valiant?' And Fëanor said, 'Treacherous kin! Why should I bring thy catamite to thee. We seek Morgoth! Let the ships burn!' And Maedhros was filled with a great sorrow, for he realised on a sudden how much he loved Fingon. He turned aside, as the flames rose higher, and followed his beloved father into Beleriand with a heavy heart.
Meanwhile, on the shores of Valinor, Fingon awoke and saw that the ships had gone. A great fury filled his heart, and also a great sorrow, for he realised that Fëanor was fey and his sons had no choice but to follow him. He leapt up and cuffed Turgon, and then he saw on the eastern horizon a dull red flame. 'Huh,' he thought, 'Maedhros always did dress flaming badly.' But he knew then that no ships would return for him. A great resolve burnt up in him, that he would return to Maedhros, and kick the shit out of Fëanor on the way. But there was no way to reach the lands of middle earth, save over the icy passes of the Helcaraxë, where no elf had dared to travel. And Fingon knew he couldn't cross it alone. At least three elves were needed to carry his armour, his clothes and his collection of silken whips and bonds (Maedhros, for the use of). Besides, there would be no-one to shag, and Turgon was not so bad. So he stood before the company of Fingolfin, and finding new hope, he sang: (to the tune of 'Cabaret') 'What good is sitting alone in your room? Come hear the music play, life is a cold ice bridge old chum, come to the cold ice bridge. Put down the anvil, the gem and the loom, time for a holiday! life is a cold ice bridge old chum, come to the cold ice bridge. Come taste the wine, come hear the band, come blow your elf, start celebrating right this way your ice-pick's waiting. No use for meeting some prophet of doom to wipe every smile away. life is a cold ice bridge old chum, come to the cold ice bridge. I used to have an elf-friend known as Maedhros with whom I shared four sordid rooms in Formenos. He wasn't what you'd call a blushing flower, as a matter of fact he rented by the hour. the day he died the neighbours came to snicker, 'Well that's what comes of too much pills and liquor.' But when I saw him laid out like a queen, he was the happiest corpse I've ever seen I think of Maedhros to this very day. I remember how he turned to me and said, 'what use is sitting alone in your room? come hear the music play! life is a cold ice bridge old chum, come to the cold ice bridge. Put down the anvil, the gem and the loom, time for a holiday, life is a cold ice bridge old chum, come to the cold ice bridge. But as for me, as for me, I made my mind up back in Formenos when I go I'm going like Maedhros start by admitting from cradle to tomb isn't that long a stay - life is a cold ice bridge old chum, only a cold ice bridge old chum and I love a cold ice bridge!' And the company of elves rose to their feet, worshipping this vision in PVC and fishnets, and applauded him, and followed him, even when he changed out of the fishnets into climbing gear and crampons, and an ice-axe. A large ice-axe. Mmm. Galadriel was really up for this, so she chased him madly over the ice passage, and as nearly everyone else was really mad for Galadriel, they followed her, and thus began the famous crossing of the Helcaraxë, renowned in rather rude songs.
Meanwhile, back in Beleriand, Morgoth had been making trouble for the new elf settlement at Mithrim. So foolishly, having vanquished the foes that Morgoth had sent out, Fëanor pressed on to Angband. He ran on ahead so fast that even Maedhros the Tall could not keep up with him (partly because he'd been having a quick one with another elf behind a tree), and out came many Balrogs, and Gothmog, the Balrog captain twined him up with a whip, but seeing Fëanor's sons coming up, decided he had no time to play and struck Fëanor down. The Balrogs saw seven elves in wrath (and shiny silver armour) and legged it back to Angband for another round of 'pass the elf'. But Fëanor was deadly wounded, and dying, he forced his sons to vow their vengeance, and Maedhros felt very bad about this, but he loved his father, and vowed all the same. So when Morgoth came, offering to treat with them, he said, 'Let us send a party, but let us send others, to set a trap for Morgoth, and then, we shall see.' Already he was planning a few things with pointy swords and Valar orifices. 'I wonder if the Valar really /are/ immortal?' he mused. 'this will be a chance to find out.' So off he went, clad in red leather with silver decorations, looking very hot, and before he reached the appointed place, Morgoth's troops jumped him, carried him off, and killed his company in various kinky ways. They'd had a long time to think about things like that. And Maedhros was taken before Morgoth, who was tall and terrible, and robed in dreadful shadow, and the Silmarils blazed from the ring around his head. 'And what shalt thou do to me, o jail-crow of Mandos?' 'You will live to regret that, o son of a degenerate and foolish father.' Maedhros yawned. This enraged Morgoth, who swept toward him, shadow swirling around him like storm-clouds gathering for a mighty tempest.[1] 'Speak not so foolishly, o wretched elf, spawn of Ilúvatar the controlling bastard! Sauron! Fetch the comfy cushions!' At this Maedhros, son of Fëanor though he was, was terribly afraid. He turned pale, and if it weren't for the two orcs holding him up, his knees would have given way. 'No, not the comfy cushions!' And the comfy cushions were brought out, and Maedhros was tied to the couch, and his supple red leather was removed, and Sauron gave him a massage. Now for any ordinary elf, this would have broken him immediately, but Maedhros was of the blood of Fëanor, and besides, Sauron was quite fair to look upon, not as fair as Fingon, sure, but why pass up such an amazing opportunity? Morgoth meanwhile, was mightily enjoying this. He hadn't had so much fun since Manwë, the biggest poof ever to rule the Valar came to visit him whilst he was chained. Elves so often turned lily-white and fainted at the least little suggestion of a quick game of 'oooh, where's my ring gone?' This one looked like he might be fun. So Morgoth cast off the cloak of shadow, but Maedhros couldn't see what he looked like because now the Silmarils shone so brightly that he was blinded, which was a good thing, as Morgoth had really let himself go of late. So Morgoth came, and he caressed Maedhros, who was trying to get his hands free to grab of one of the Silmarils, but they were tied to the head of the couch. He turned Maedhros over and they shagged like tortured bunny rabbits on cocaine. Maedhros was interested. This was a new experience for him, and he quite forgot about the Silmarils in their ring of iron. Maedhros spent many days chained in Morgoth's chamber, with Morgoth exploring all the facets of his elfhood, and exposing his magnificent Valar body to the foam of Maedhros. Maedhros was the whipping boy of Thangorodrim. And as he hung in chains, his magnificent elf body gleaming with the oil from Sauron's latest massage, he bethought him of Fingon, and how he had been abandoned on the shore. And suddenly he realised that his love for Fingon was no less, but he had conceived a great and dreadful love for Morgoth, the lord of Evil. And so, he, dressed in a leather corset and fishnets sang: (To the tune of Queen's 'I want to break free) I want to break free I want to break free from your lives You're so self-satisfied I don't need you I want to break free God knows, God knows I want to break free.
I've fallen in love, I've fallen in love for the first time And this time I know it's for real I've fallen in love. God knows, God knows I've fallen in love.
It's strange but it's true, But I can't get over the way you love me like you do But I have to be sure when I walk out the door. Oh I want to be free, baby, Oh how I want to break free Oh how I want to break free.
But life still goes on I can't get used to living without, living without Living without you by my side. I don't want to live alone. God knows, got to make it on my own. So baby can't you see God know I God knows I God knows I want to break free.
And lo! he did try to walk out the door, but unfortunately the orcs were there, and stopped him. He could hear the deep groaning that indicated there were Balrogs outside, and he decided to stay put. It didn't matter, because by that point, Morgoth was behind him, had shredded his fishnets, and was undoing the corset very rapidly. Unfortunately, shortly after that Morgoth got bored with his new plaything, and returned to his spear named Solgea.[2] He wanted to torment the elf, who had proved so resilient, and so he hung him from the highest pinnacle of Thangorodrim, the inaccessible fortress. There he hung, at the mercy of wind, rain and all weather, and ever surrounded by the impenetrable darkness of Morgoth. Long he hung there. All hope left him. And suddenly he felt the Eye. There was an eye looking at him. It was on some strange bird with oily feathers, that was black and white. And the penguin (what a strange name! Penguin!) said to him 'Slide'. And he saw great wastes of ice, and Fingon sliding down towards the stormy waters beside the Helcaraxë. And he thought oft of Fingon, but oft also of Morgoth, once called Melkor, he who arises in might. Or as Maedhros knew quite well, he who arises in the night. 'I seem to be wandering in dark vales' he thought. And ever his body was wracked, as he hung from his wrist, and for years he felt pain as no elf was meant to feel pain, and he felt his sinews ever racked. From time to time this aroused him, but ever of late he sank into darker dreams, and he forgot the light of Valinor, and even the light of the Silmarils became dimmed in his memory. Fingon he thought of, fingering at Morgoth and his twin loves encompassed his head and his body, and he became ever more confused, though no sound escaped from him. As he hung there, he both loved and hated Morgoth, as he both loved and hated the pain. But most of all he hated his family, for being so craven as to leave him in the clutches of Morgoth, in pain that no elf was meant to bear.
----------------------- [1] Violent fecund showers no extra charge. [2] Gil-galad's spear reversed.
Maedhros and Fingon - the silly slashy version
In the light of the trees they wandered, looking for something to do. Until Morgoth introduced them to swords and spears and hide the helmet, there was very little to do in Valinor. Fëanor was off making the Silmarils, though nobody knew that yet. So Maedhros the Tall wandered alone on a green hill in Valinor. And lo! he heard a voice upraised in song. (to the tune of 'Spirit in the Sky') 'So I live and they've brought me to rest Wandering all round the place that's the best Trying to find a new way to get high Flying on up to Manwë in the sky.
'Flying on up to Manwë in the sky Trying to find a new way to get high When I'm high and I'm stretched out to rest I know I'm in the place that's the best.
'Now ask yourself, you know that you must, Gotta have a friend in Fingon, So you know you can get high, He'll help me on up to Manwë in the sky.'
And he saw the singer approach over the brow of the hill. It was Fingon, a slender elf. And he saw that Fingon was very fair. Specifically, with blond flowing hair, ethereal cheekbones and a set of muscles in a very tight tunic. Never mind the fact that he was his cousin, Maedhros saw some opportunities for entertainment here. He entered the singing:
'Flying on up to Manwë in the sky Trying to find a new way to get high When I'm high and I'm stretched out to rest I know I'm in the place that's the best.
'Ever tried it with an elf-lad? Someone said it wouldn't be bad. So we'll find a new way to get high, Before ya set me up with Manwë in the sky
'Flying on up to Manwë in the sky Trying to find a new way to get high. When I'm high and I'm stretched out to rest I know I'm in the place that's the best.'
'Hail, fair Fingon. Wilt thou tarry yet awhile? I would have speech with thee.' So Fingon tarried, and they spoke together (they'd known each other for a long time already, but even bored elves don't leap straight at each other without any preliminaries). And while they spoke their hands clasped. And they moved closer to each other. And closer. And that's close enough. No it's not. Closer. And Fingon placed his arm round Maedhros' shoulder. Maedhros wasn't quite sure what they were talking about any more, but it didn't really matter. Something about the trees he thought. Quite by chance his hand happened to rest on Fingon's thigh. He really was rather a handsome elf. At this point, Fingon pushed him back onto the grass and leant over and kissed him. Maedhros was not complaining at all. His very tight elven leggings were beginning to feel inconvenient. He pulled Fingon down on top of him. Unfortunately, they're doing all this out on an open hillside, and elves have very keen eyesight. So everyone saw what they were doing, from a discreet distance, that is. Anyway, everyone saw them shagging like a pair of rabbits on speed. And then they started again. Nothing could disturb them until Fëanor came out of hiding with the Silmarils. Everyone was very impressed, but Maedhros was desperate to be back at Fingon, and Fingon was worried. Though they held the light of the trees so perfectly, he was a little bit worried. He knew that elven nature wasn't as pure as it looked, and thought that the Silmarils were probably trouble. And he was right. They gave Morgoth an ideal opportunity to spread lives. Maedhros and Fingon didn't notice it really, as they were giving those bunnies on speed a run for their money. And again. And again. And while they were apart, they took great care to dress for the next meeting in tight silks and fine gems. They spent hours braiding their hair. 'Morgoth? What about Morgoth?' said Fingon one day. 'Look, I'm on my way to see Maedhros. Back soon.' But he never saw Maedhros. For on that very morning Fëanor had been banned from the city of the Valar, and he had taken his sons with him to Formenos, where he had a great stronghold. And Maedhros sat in Formenos for many years, writing bad poetry to his elvish love, and thinking of horrible things to do to his father with the Silmarils. Fingon was of course having a damn good time with Turgon, though he thought often of Maedhros, whom he loved deeply. Very deeply. Almost as deeply as Beren would love Luthien.
And Maedhros sang: (to the tune of 'Can't get no (satisfaction)') 'I can't get no satisfaction I can't get no satisfaction cos I tried and I tried and I tried and tried. I can't get no I can't get no When I 'm sitting in my room there's some elf who's telling me more and more some useless information supposed to fire my imagination
'I can't get no, no no no hey hey hey that's what I say. I cant get no satisfaction I can't get no satisfaction cos I tried and I tried and I tried and tried. I can't get no I can't get no
'when I'm watching my love and an elf comes on to tell me how white my shirts can be and he can't be a elf cos he doesn't know the same elves as me.
'I can't get no, no no hey hey hey. that's what I say
'I can't get no satisfaction , I can't get no elven action cos I tried and I tried and I tried and tried. I can't get no I can't get no
'When I'm waiting to go out and I'm doing this and I'm doing that and I'm trying to meet some elf hey baby come back maybe next week cos I can't move from this here sheet.
'I can't get no, no no hey hey hey that's what I say. I can't get no I can't get no satisfaction no satisfaction no satisfaction no satisfaction.' When Fëanor returned to Tirion, Maedhros begged to be allowed to go with him, to gaze upon his love. But Fëanor forbade it, and counselled him to remain to protect the stronghold, for he did not trust his kin. And so it was that Fingon was at the feast, looking his very best in some fabulous purple silks with matching accessories, but Maedhros was not. And Maedhros was in Formenos when Ungoliant came thither. He saw her huge bulk and fled over the horizon, into the darkness where the light of the trees once was. He recked not that Morgoth might take the treasures of Fëanor, and as he ran, he encountered a slim form running the other way. 'OUCH! Watch where you're going.' 'Well I like that, fine way to greet someone you haven't seen for over a decade' 'Fingon!' 'Yes, of course.' And Maedhros embraced him very tightly and began kissing him very passionately, running his hands down Fingon's back, and finally tearing away the purple tunic. He'd had several years to think of obscene things to do to Fingon's elfhood, and now he was going to try some of them. Unfortunately he'd left most of his leather and jewellery in Formenos, so there were quite a few things he couldn't try. Fingon seemed very eager to see him, or rather feel him, despite his initial reaction. Very soon more clothing was being cast in the darkness and Fingon was reminded very urgently why Maedhros was called Maedhros and why exactly he was nicknamed 'the Tall'. The scattered clothing proved to be a bit of a problem later, when they tried to get dressed again. however, for the moment, dressing was the last thing on their minds, as Maedhros ran his hands through Fingon's hair. So they shagged like rabbits on speed, and like cats in heat, and then they shagged like bunnies on speed again. They stopped this when they realised that things had quietened down and the only screaming elves for leagues were themselves. Once they had dressed themselves and wandered to where there were people with torches, they noticed that they had the wrong tunics. However, the elves were too busy listening to the words of Fëanor to bother about them, so they had a quick kiss and cuddle at the back of the crowd, while Fëanor vowed to go to middle earth to recover the Silmarils. And he called his sons to him, and they swore a terrible oath to Ilúvatar, to hunt down any who laid their hands on the Silmarils. Maedhros was still a bit out of breath, and wearing the wrong tunic, but he didn't mind. And Fingon went to rejoin his father. He realised then that his father was wavering, he was unsure whether to follow Fëanor, so he urged him to accompany them, out of his desire and love for Maedhros the Spumy and Tall. In the long run, this was possibly not a wise thing to do, but it's a bit late to worry about it now.
The great host of the elves set forth, with Fëanor and his sons in the vanguard. Leading the house of Fingolfin was Fingon. So when Fëanor reached the sea, and fought those who had the boats, Fingon was the first to see Maedhros in peril, so he rushed in to help him, his armour shining bright, his spear sharply pointed and his helmet gleaming. Maedhros was in no position to appreciate this, however, though he was later that night, when they made those bunnies hop like mad again. Even for elves, they had a lot of energy. But the next night, Maedhros had been left in charge of the ships, and whilst he was sleeping, his father and brothers slipped on board and they rowed away from the shore. When he awoke, Maedhros was furious, and he sang: (to the tune of Mozart's Horn concerto no.1, words from Flanders and Swann). I once had a whim and I had to obey it to find a new elf in a Valinor shop I polished him up and I started to play him in spite of the neighbours who begged me to stop. To sound my elf I had to develop my embouchure I found my elf was a bit of devil to play. So artfully wound to give you a sound, a beautiful sound so rich and round. Oh the hours I had to spend before I mastered him in the end. But that was yesterday and just today I looked in the usual place: there was the case but the elf itself was missing. Oh where can he have gone have you, hasn't anyone seen my elf? Oh where can he have gone, oh what a blow, now I know I'm unable to play my allegro. Who swiped that elf? I'll bet you a spear somebody did, knowing I'd found a new bedroom and wanted to use it, afraid of my talent at playing the elf, for early to day to my utter dismay he had vanished away like the dew in the morn. I've lost that elf; I know I was using him yesterday. I've lost that elf, lost that elf, found that elf pelf. There's not much use my saying that I'm likely to pay a reward. I know some hearty folk whose party joke is pretending to hunt with the Sea. Spume away spume away - was it one of them took him away? Will you kindly return that elf? Oh where is the devil that pinched my elf? I shall call the Valar! I want that new elf back. I miss his music more and more and more. Without that elf I'm feeling sad and so forlorn ooooo I found a new bedroom I wanted to play it to display my talent at playing the elf but early to day to my utter dismay he had totally vanished away. I practised the elf and I wanted to play him but somebody took him away I practised the elf and was longing to play him but somebody took him away my neighbours are sleeping in bed I'll see that they'll wish they was dead I'll take up with Morgoth instead. Wah Wah
At which display of pique his brothers and father left him, gazing westward over the sea to where Fingon was sleeping. And soon they reached the hither shore, and Maedhros went to his father and said, 'And will you send ships and rowers back now? and who shall they bring first, Fingon the valiant?' And Fëanor said, 'Treacherous kin! Why should I bring thy catamite to thee. We seek Morgoth! Let the ships burn!' And Maedhros was filled with a great sorrow, for he realised on a sudden how much he loved Fingon. He turned aside, as the flames rose higher, and followed his beloved father into Beleriand with a heavy heart.
Meanwhile, on the shores of Valinor, Fingon awoke and saw that the ships had gone. A great fury filled his heart, and also a great sorrow, for he realised that Fëanor was fey and his sons had no choice but to follow him. He leapt up and cuffed Turgon, and then he saw on the eastern horizon a dull red flame. 'Huh,' he thought, 'Maedhros always did dress flaming badly.' But he knew then that no ships would return for him. A great resolve burnt up in him, that he would return to Maedhros, and kick the shit out of Fëanor on the way. But there was no way to reach the lands of middle earth, save over the icy passes of the Helcaraxë, where no elf had dared to travel. And Fingon knew he couldn't cross it alone. At least three elves were needed to carry his armour, his clothes and his collection of silken whips and bonds (Maedhros, for the use of). Besides, there would be no-one to shag, and Turgon was not so bad. So he stood before the company of Fingolfin, and finding new hope, he sang: (to the tune of 'Cabaret') 'What good is sitting alone in your room? Come hear the music play, life is a cold ice bridge old chum, come to the cold ice bridge. Put down the anvil, the gem and the loom, time for a holiday! life is a cold ice bridge old chum, come to the cold ice bridge. Come taste the wine, come hear the band, come blow your elf, start celebrating right this way your ice-pick's waiting. No use for meeting some prophet of doom to wipe every smile away. life is a cold ice bridge old chum, come to the cold ice bridge. I used to have an elf-friend known as Maedhros with whom I shared four sordid rooms in Formenos. He wasn't what you'd call a blushing flower, as a matter of fact he rented by the hour. the day he died the neighbours came to snicker, 'Well that's what comes of too much pills and liquor.' But when I saw him laid out like a queen, he was the happiest corpse I've ever seen I think of Maedhros to this very day. I remember how he turned to me and said, 'what use is sitting alone in your room? come hear the music play! life is a cold ice bridge old chum, come to the cold ice bridge. Put down the anvil, the gem and the loom, time for a holiday, life is a cold ice bridge old chum, come to the cold ice bridge. But as for me, as for me, I made my mind up back in Formenos when I go I'm going like Maedhros start by admitting from cradle to tomb isn't that long a stay - life is a cold ice bridge old chum, only a cold ice bridge old chum and I love a cold ice bridge!' And the company of elves rose to their feet, worshipping this vision in PVC and fishnets, and applauded him, and followed him, even when he changed out of the fishnets into climbing gear and crampons, and an ice-axe. A large ice-axe. Mmm. Galadriel was really up for this, so she chased him madly over the ice passage, and as nearly everyone else was really mad for Galadriel, they followed her, and thus began the famous crossing of the Helcaraxë, renowned in rather rude songs.
Meanwhile, back in Beleriand, Morgoth had been making trouble for the new elf settlement at Mithrim. So foolishly, having vanquished the foes that Morgoth had sent out, Fëanor pressed on to Angband. He ran on ahead so fast that even Maedhros the Tall could not keep up with him (partly because he'd been having a quick one with another elf behind a tree), and out came many Balrogs, and Gothmog, the Balrog captain twined him up with a whip, but seeing Fëanor's sons coming up, decided he had no time to play and struck Fëanor down. The Balrogs saw seven elves in wrath (and shiny silver armour) and legged it back to Angband for another round of 'pass the elf'. But Fëanor was deadly wounded, and dying, he forced his sons to vow their vengeance, and Maedhros felt very bad about this, but he loved his father, and vowed all the same. So when Morgoth came, offering to treat with them, he said, 'Let us send a party, but let us send others, to set a trap for Morgoth, and then, we shall see.' Already he was planning a few things with pointy swords and Valar orifices. 'I wonder if the Valar really /are/ immortal?' he mused. 'this will be a chance to find out.' So off he went, clad in red leather with silver decorations, looking very hot, and before he reached the appointed place, Morgoth's troops jumped him, carried him off, and killed his company in various kinky ways. They'd had a long time to think about things like that. And Maedhros was taken before Morgoth, who was tall and terrible, and robed in dreadful shadow, and the Silmarils blazed from the ring around his head. 'And what shalt thou do to me, o jail-crow of Mandos?' 'You will live to regret that, o son of a degenerate and foolish father.' Maedhros yawned. This enraged Morgoth, who swept toward him, shadow swirling around him like storm-clouds gathering for a mighty tempest.[1] 'Speak not so foolishly, o wretched elf, spawn of Ilúvatar the controlling bastard! Sauron! Fetch the comfy cushions!' At this Maedhros, son of Fëanor though he was, was terribly afraid. He turned pale, and if it weren't for the two orcs holding him up, his knees would have given way. 'No, not the comfy cushions!' And the comfy cushions were brought out, and Maedhros was tied to the couch, and his supple red leather was removed, and Sauron gave him a massage. Now for any ordinary elf, this would have broken him immediately, but Maedhros was of the blood of Fëanor, and besides, Sauron was quite fair to look upon, not as fair as Fingon, sure, but why pass up such an amazing opportunity? Morgoth meanwhile, was mightily enjoying this. He hadn't had so much fun since Manwë, the biggest poof ever to rule the Valar came to visit him whilst he was chained. Elves so often turned lily-white and fainted at the least little suggestion of a quick game of 'oooh, where's my ring gone?' This one looked like he might be fun. So Morgoth cast off the cloak of shadow, but Maedhros couldn't see what he looked like because now the Silmarils shone so brightly that he was blinded, which was a good thing, as Morgoth had really let himself go of late. So Morgoth came, and he caressed Maedhros, who was trying to get his hands free to grab of one of the Silmarils, but they were tied to the head of the couch. He turned Maedhros over and they shagged like tortured bunny rabbits on cocaine. Maedhros was interested. This was a new experience for him, and he quite forgot about the Silmarils in their ring of iron. Maedhros spent many days chained in Morgoth's chamber, with Morgoth exploring all the facets of his elfhood, and exposing his magnificent Valar body to the foam of Maedhros. Maedhros was the whipping boy of Thangorodrim. And as he hung in chains, his magnificent elf body gleaming with the oil from Sauron's latest massage, he bethought him of Fingon, and how he had been abandoned on the shore. And suddenly he realised that his love for Fingon was no less, but he had conceived a great and dreadful love for Morgoth, the lord of Evil. And so, he, dressed in a leather corset and fishnets sang: (To the tune of Queen's 'I want to break free) I want to break free I want to break free from your lives You're so self-satisfied I don't need you I want to break free God knows, God knows I want to break free.
I've fallen in love, I've fallen in love for the first time And this time I know it's for real I've fallen in love. God knows, God knows I've fallen in love.
It's strange but it's true, But I can't get over the way you love me like you do But I have to be sure when I walk out the door. Oh I want to be free, baby, Oh how I want to break free Oh how I want to break free.
But life still goes on I can't get used to living without, living without Living without you by my side. I don't want to live alone. God knows, got to make it on my own. So baby can't you see God know I God knows I God knows I want to break free.
And lo! he did try to walk out the door, but unfortunately the orcs were there, and stopped him. He could hear the deep groaning that indicated there were Balrogs outside, and he decided to stay put. It didn't matter, because by that point, Morgoth was behind him, had shredded his fishnets, and was undoing the corset very rapidly. Unfortunately, shortly after that Morgoth got bored with his new plaything, and returned to his spear named Solgea.[2] He wanted to torment the elf, who had proved so resilient, and so he hung him from the highest pinnacle of Thangorodrim, the inaccessible fortress. There he hung, at the mercy of wind, rain and all weather, and ever surrounded by the impenetrable darkness of Morgoth. Long he hung there. All hope left him. And suddenly he felt the Eye. There was an eye looking at him. It was on some strange bird with oily feathers, that was black and white. And the penguin (what a strange name! Penguin!) said to him 'Slide'. And he saw great wastes of ice, and Fingon sliding down towards the stormy waters beside the Helcaraxë. And he thought oft of Fingon, but oft also of Morgoth, once called Melkor, he who arises in might. Or as Maedhros knew quite well, he who arises in the night. 'I seem to be wandering in dark vales' he thought. And ever his body was wracked, as he hung from his wrist, and for years he felt pain as no elf was meant to feel pain, and he felt his sinews ever racked. From time to time this aroused him, but ever of late he sank into darker dreams, and he forgot the light of Valinor, and even the light of the Silmarils became dimmed in his memory. Fingon he thought of, fingering at Morgoth and his twin loves encompassed his head and his body, and he became ever more confused, though no sound escaped from him. As he hung there, he both loved and hated Morgoth, as he both loved and hated the pain. But most of all he hated his family, for being so craven as to leave him in the clutches of Morgoth, in pain that no elf was meant to bear.
----------------------- [1] Violent fecund showers no extra charge. [2] Gil-galad's spear reversed.