Disclaimer: He, it, and all belong to Tolkien and his estate. Maedhros just
walked up and made me do it.
Honestly, I was trying to get in touch with Glorfindel, but I keep contacting Maedhros. Though I think I'm almost over the writer's block, so I'll hopefully be updating something this week after all these long months.
But in the mean time, I hope you all enjoy this. (
I hate you
I hate you; you know that, don't you? As I stand here on the edge of this chasm of fire, all I can think about is you, and how much I hate you. You, and your cursed gems, one of which is burning the flesh from my only remaining hand.
No, perhaps I shouldn't say I hate you, I should say I hate what you became, all because you had to make these cruel, yet oh so beautiful gems. You were so.I wouldn't say kindly, you were never the most social of elves, but you were good, and kind, generous with your gifts. You acted like our father before you made these; you were always there for us. Your temper was legendary, but it took so long for you to get to such a point, and you never abused us. Until you made these..
Then our father disappeared, leaving only a strange Elf who only resembled him in passing. You took every step to make sure those gems were safe. Now look, we've spent our lives trying to get them back from Morgoth's black grip. But, we could have lived with you, even though you seemed to care more for them then us, we still knew you loved us, and you truly loved grandfather. But after grandfather died..
Curse me, tears now run down my face. Curse you for making me cry. I hate you, I hate your works, I hate the monster you became. I wonder if you really grieved for grandfather, and not just for your jewels.
And you know, I hate myself because of you. Everything I have done, was because of you and that oath. Why didn't I listen to Maglor? Ai! Of all of us, he was the wisest, yet even he fell before your anger, and took your oath with you, forsaking everything to bring back your jewels, when none of us cared for them. Perhaps we just hoped that getting them back would bring our father back. How wrong we were. It only cost us our lives, our blood, our souls. And you died first, without seeing the black fruits of your labor. How I envy your plight, you were let out of the blood bath you started, and how I hate the fact that you died, and I didn't.
Look at me, a shell of the person I used to be. No longer well formed as you named me, maimed and broken, both from Morgoth's crude ways, and that cursed vow. My remaining hand is stained with the blood of my people and my brothers. Maglor and I are all that remains of seven, and soon, there will be only one, unless Maglor succumbs to the pain from holding one of the gems. It won't matter if he lives or dies, just as it won't matter that I choose to die. We're all cursed, all of us, all because of you. I hate you.
Why did you leave us, Father? When we needed you, you left, when we started this quest, you died. I can see your death in the flames, can see your wild eyes as your life faded and your body was consumed by the fire of your soul. I remember the stench of burned hair and flesh, the fear and shock playing on my brothers' faces. I remember the grief, and the anger. After all that, after all the blood and death, you left us to continue your dirty work, while you died, and all I could do was curse your grave, and continue on. I hate you.
And Eru help me, I'm just like you, and I hate myself.
Are you watching, Father? Are you watching from your hell in Mandos's halls? Are you laughing? Are you crying? I don't know, I can't feel your gaze upon me, but I can feel you, because you are apart of me, and I've stopped fighting it. I'm going to follow your way by flame, though it won't be my soul that devours me, but the fires of the world I tormented, and I'll rejoice as you did, till I meet you in those dark halls.
What then? Should I tell you all I have done then? All the people I have killed, all the pains I have endured? Or will I just scream and never stop? What will you do? I wonder all these, and yet, I can't find the energy to really care. I'm finished, my soul drained of all I can give. I hope you're proud of all I have done in your name, I'm sorry I can't fulfill everything I swore to you, because I swore it to you, not Eru, not Manwe, but to you, and you alone, because despite the hellish being you became in those moments, I still loved you as my father.
Now I can only hate you for what I've done, and I can only hate myself for doing all that. I wish Morgoth had killed me when he had the chance, then at least my soul would not be so black with the blood and sorrow of my victims. But, no sense in wishing, when it can never be.
At least Maglor tried to save himself from damnation. He saved the sons of Earendil, nurtured them, and finally released them to their rightful kin, while all I did was bay for blood like a cursed animal. At least he tried to fight against the oath, and at least he tried to save me, yet I drug him over the edge, forced him to take up our oath one last time. Now we both burn for it, but I'm going to end it now. I wonder if the pain will follow me to Mandos. Oh Eru, I hope not, though I deserve to suffer eternally.
It's only a step away from the end, just a single step, after all these thousands of miles of traveling across land, ocean, and sea. After all the darkness and blood, fire and ash, it's finally just a single step to death, and finally I have fulfilled my vow. I have one of the gems with me, and I will carry it into death with me, thus my vow to you is finished. I'll tell you that if I see you there.
It doesn't seem real, this fire, this chasm, me, none of it seems real. Only the Silmaril seems real, but then, it has always been that way. I can feel your soul thrum through it, and I want to weep yet again. Oh father, why did you have to leave, why did I have to hate and yet love you so?
I look away from this cursed thing in my arms, to the fires below, and I step forward. I must embrace what was meant to be, love or not, hatred or not, I must follow you, even to Mandos's halls. I am your firstborn son, it is my duty to follow my father to the death, and so it shall be.
The fires welcome me, binding around me as they burn my flesh from me, yet I find the pain is greater where the Silmaril rests in my arms, then where the fires burn into me. I look up, my eyesight dimming as my body quickly gives into the flames, and I catch the light of Earendil above, before the fire devours my eyesight.
Now, I know I've fulfilled Mandos's prophecy. I did the right thing. I hope you see I have.
I love you, father..
Honestly, I was trying to get in touch with Glorfindel, but I keep contacting Maedhros. Though I think I'm almost over the writer's block, so I'll hopefully be updating something this week after all these long months.
But in the mean time, I hope you all enjoy this. (
I hate you
I hate you; you know that, don't you? As I stand here on the edge of this chasm of fire, all I can think about is you, and how much I hate you. You, and your cursed gems, one of which is burning the flesh from my only remaining hand.
No, perhaps I shouldn't say I hate you, I should say I hate what you became, all because you had to make these cruel, yet oh so beautiful gems. You were so.I wouldn't say kindly, you were never the most social of elves, but you were good, and kind, generous with your gifts. You acted like our father before you made these; you were always there for us. Your temper was legendary, but it took so long for you to get to such a point, and you never abused us. Until you made these..
Then our father disappeared, leaving only a strange Elf who only resembled him in passing. You took every step to make sure those gems were safe. Now look, we've spent our lives trying to get them back from Morgoth's black grip. But, we could have lived with you, even though you seemed to care more for them then us, we still knew you loved us, and you truly loved grandfather. But after grandfather died..
Curse me, tears now run down my face. Curse you for making me cry. I hate you, I hate your works, I hate the monster you became. I wonder if you really grieved for grandfather, and not just for your jewels.
And you know, I hate myself because of you. Everything I have done, was because of you and that oath. Why didn't I listen to Maglor? Ai! Of all of us, he was the wisest, yet even he fell before your anger, and took your oath with you, forsaking everything to bring back your jewels, when none of us cared for them. Perhaps we just hoped that getting them back would bring our father back. How wrong we were. It only cost us our lives, our blood, our souls. And you died first, without seeing the black fruits of your labor. How I envy your plight, you were let out of the blood bath you started, and how I hate the fact that you died, and I didn't.
Look at me, a shell of the person I used to be. No longer well formed as you named me, maimed and broken, both from Morgoth's crude ways, and that cursed vow. My remaining hand is stained with the blood of my people and my brothers. Maglor and I are all that remains of seven, and soon, there will be only one, unless Maglor succumbs to the pain from holding one of the gems. It won't matter if he lives or dies, just as it won't matter that I choose to die. We're all cursed, all of us, all because of you. I hate you.
Why did you leave us, Father? When we needed you, you left, when we started this quest, you died. I can see your death in the flames, can see your wild eyes as your life faded and your body was consumed by the fire of your soul. I remember the stench of burned hair and flesh, the fear and shock playing on my brothers' faces. I remember the grief, and the anger. After all that, after all the blood and death, you left us to continue your dirty work, while you died, and all I could do was curse your grave, and continue on. I hate you.
And Eru help me, I'm just like you, and I hate myself.
Are you watching, Father? Are you watching from your hell in Mandos's halls? Are you laughing? Are you crying? I don't know, I can't feel your gaze upon me, but I can feel you, because you are apart of me, and I've stopped fighting it. I'm going to follow your way by flame, though it won't be my soul that devours me, but the fires of the world I tormented, and I'll rejoice as you did, till I meet you in those dark halls.
What then? Should I tell you all I have done then? All the people I have killed, all the pains I have endured? Or will I just scream and never stop? What will you do? I wonder all these, and yet, I can't find the energy to really care. I'm finished, my soul drained of all I can give. I hope you're proud of all I have done in your name, I'm sorry I can't fulfill everything I swore to you, because I swore it to you, not Eru, not Manwe, but to you, and you alone, because despite the hellish being you became in those moments, I still loved you as my father.
Now I can only hate you for what I've done, and I can only hate myself for doing all that. I wish Morgoth had killed me when he had the chance, then at least my soul would not be so black with the blood and sorrow of my victims. But, no sense in wishing, when it can never be.
At least Maglor tried to save himself from damnation. He saved the sons of Earendil, nurtured them, and finally released them to their rightful kin, while all I did was bay for blood like a cursed animal. At least he tried to fight against the oath, and at least he tried to save me, yet I drug him over the edge, forced him to take up our oath one last time. Now we both burn for it, but I'm going to end it now. I wonder if the pain will follow me to Mandos. Oh Eru, I hope not, though I deserve to suffer eternally.
It's only a step away from the end, just a single step, after all these thousands of miles of traveling across land, ocean, and sea. After all the darkness and blood, fire and ash, it's finally just a single step to death, and finally I have fulfilled my vow. I have one of the gems with me, and I will carry it into death with me, thus my vow to you is finished. I'll tell you that if I see you there.
It doesn't seem real, this fire, this chasm, me, none of it seems real. Only the Silmaril seems real, but then, it has always been that way. I can feel your soul thrum through it, and I want to weep yet again. Oh father, why did you have to leave, why did I have to hate and yet love you so?
I look away from this cursed thing in my arms, to the fires below, and I step forward. I must embrace what was meant to be, love or not, hatred or not, I must follow you, even to Mandos's halls. I am your firstborn son, it is my duty to follow my father to the death, and so it shall be.
The fires welcome me, binding around me as they burn my flesh from me, yet I find the pain is greater where the Silmaril rests in my arms, then where the fires burn into me. I look up, my eyesight dimming as my body quickly gives into the flames, and I catch the light of Earendil above, before the fire devours my eyesight.
Now, I know I've fulfilled Mandos's prophecy. I did the right thing. I hope you see I have.
I love you, father..