Fanworks Tagged with Maedhros

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A Collection of Maps Exhibiting the Changing Political Landscape in Beleriand by Artano

Created for the 'Geography/Maps/Places' prompt on the "Tolkien meta" bingo board, this is a collection of maps marked with the various people groups showing how they arrived and moved about Beleriand.  This collection focuses specifically on the time from the arrival of the Teleri, Vanyar, and Noldor before they went to Aman up to the distribution of the various kingdoms after the Flight of the Noldor, when they arrived in Middle-earth and settled there.

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An Essay on the Sons of Fëanor by clotho123

An overview of the Sons of Fëanor and their role in Tolkien's Silmarillion writings

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The Children of Angband by AdmirableMonster

This is a history that has never been told. Those whom it concerns most deeply are dead now, even those who chose or otherwise received the lifespans of Elves. It is a story that has been kept hidden for more than six thousand years. Now, I believe it is past time it should be revealed.

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no act of providence by queerofthedagger

There is shame in it, scathing-hot and heavy. If Makalaurë is honest, that only makes it more of a delight.

Everything in Tirion is holy perfection, white-pure and immaculate. This is just the latest desire of breaking something open, of getting to watch how it bleeds over untainted marble.


Maitimo has been avoiding him. Makalaurë deduces why.

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love me with the lights out by queerofthedagger

"Would it help,” Maedhros starts, his tone pensive and his fingers pressing more firmly against Maglor’s jaw. “Would it help if I did not forgive you as easily? If I punished you for what you did not, could not do?”

It takes a moment for Maglor to understand, Maedhros pushing images into his mind—of rope and chains and bruised skin, of pain and pleasure mingling without release.

It makes him shiver, the thrill quickly followed by shame hot enough that he wants to flinch from it.


Maglor is unable to let go of his guilt. Maedhros gets inventive about it.

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a promise of midsummer skies by queerofthedagger

“A pity,” Fingon says, and his grin looks only a little forced. “Will you dance with me regardless?”

Maedhros first instinct is to say no. Elbereth, he should say no. But he looks at Fingon with his flushed cheeks, the braids coming loose, the banked hope in his eyes. The way the slant of his mouth reveals that he expects a rejection, and how he asks regardless.

Maedhros has always been terrible at denying him anything. It is why he had put half a continent between them, why he knew that coming here was a mistake before he so much as left Himring’s walls.


Maedhros believes that Fingon deserves something better. Fingon disagrees.

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Crossroads by Gwanath Dagnir

Of Elros and Elrond growing up in the First Age during the War of Wrath.

Chapter 1: circa 562 F.A. - the long winning streak of Finarfin's renowned Liberators comes to an end when an orc raid does not go according to plan, and the twins must accept a new path

Chapter 2: circa 546 F.A. - winds of change reach the Feanorians' remote encampment in Ossiriand, and an unexpected messenger brings news from Valinor

Chapter 3: circa 567 F.A. - years have passed since the Peredhil assumed their new role, when an unexpected detour brings them closer to familiar territory

Chapter 4: circa 547, F.A. - Finarfin has an ultimatum if the Feanorians wish to retain a place in his host during the Great War to come

 

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all our fault lines by queerofthedagger

It is too much to ask, Findekáno knows. If there is one thing he understands it is loyalty, the way it sits on your shoulders, the crushing weight and comforting form of it. Maitimo can no more turn his back on his family than Findekáno can, and that, more than anything, has always been their most wretched similarity.


One last meeting on the Eve of the Fëanorians' exile.

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Sing, O Muse by queerofthedagger

Maglor had expected it to give him an edge. He had not expected to level the battlefield and the forest, everything but Maedhros who remains, untouched and staring at Maglor as if he has been awoken from a long and terrible sleep.

Even their horses are gone. Maglor’s throat feels as if he has swallowed glass.


The first time they are attacked after Maedhros' rescue, Maglor handles it very well.

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Between Ruinous Dusk and Restless Dawn by queerofthedagger

His gaze, inevitably, is drawn back to Finrod, the marred beauty of him. It has not been Curufin who ruined him so—had not been Curufin who had dragged him out of Nargothrond and into the wolf’s den, who had let Finrod protect him with his life. And yet.

And yet it feels oddly fitting, that such a ruined thing should be Curufin’s.


Through careful manoeuvring and a few lucky coincidences, Curufin saves Finrod's life without having to admit to anything so humiliating as having emotions. Contrary to what one would expect, this does not make things all that much easier.

Alternatively: Curufin lies, Finrod lives, and somehow they do still manage to figure it out, for better or for worse.

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The Noldolantë (Sirion verses) by Tehta

The third kinslaying, as a musical.

Please do not take this too seriously. The writer certainly doesn't.

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like god needs the devil by queerofthedagger

Maglor comes alive beneath it all the same; is not proud of the noise that makes it out of his throat and cannot bring himself to care, not even a little. He pushes closer, greedy suddenly, so greedy.

They used to do this often, in a time long past; back when the Trees still washed Aman in hallowed light, when their family had been its own world, without running brothers and mad fathers. Back when there were not yet cousins and mountains of guilt between them.


After Maglor loses the Gap, Maedhros offers comfort in the only way he still knows to.

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An exercise in music... And patience by Aprilertuile

Makalaurë was sitting at the harp in his music room. He was holding a dark blindfold in his hands and was looking at it with much scepticism. 

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All of you by chrissystriped

Elrond and Celebrían celebrate their anniversary with their family.

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Temper, temper... by Aprilertuile

Maglor hit some musical difficulties and snaps.

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The start of a beautiful friendship by Aprilertuile

Once upon a time, before the darkening of Valinor, a young hunter goes to Oromë to learn... And meet one who would be a dear companion until life, oaths and tragedy separates them.

This story is their meeting

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Harp and Liar by AdmirableMonster

Stinging from his defeat in a musical competition at the Mereth Aderthad, Maglor unexpectedly makes friends with a deaf child.

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The Dream of Legolas Greenleaf by clotho123

In which Legolas Greenleaf dreams he is in the First Age.  Time is strangely haywire and there are a lot of Noldor royalty talking about ravens.  More importantly nobody has offered him a drink. 

Or: a medieval Welsh story adapted with Silmarillion characters (and Legolas)

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The Point of the Needle by Rocky41_7

Maglor assists Maedhros with pain therapy, but his bedside manner is lacking.

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One-handed Anonymous by Lyra

Imagine a self-help group for fictional characters who have lost one or several hands. That's it. That's the idea.

A very rough sketch to get in just under the wire to respond to three challenges at once:
- Tengwar (ampa - hook; technically Noldo)
- Crossroads of the Fallen King (Crossover with Star Wars, Peter Pan, the MCU, the Aubreiad, real world history, Mad Max and the Queen's Thief series)
- Funky 70s (Star Wars; some of the fancy drinks)

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drop your knives (I want to drop mine) by queerofthedagger

This, them, is a caricature as well. Fingon unleashes another row of blows upon Maedhros and does not think about the way it feels like penance and revenge both. Does not think about how this is the only way he still knows to touch Maedhros without fear.


After Thangorodrim, Maedhros needs to re-learn how to fight. It goes about as well as can be expected.

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always feel like home to me by queerofthedagger

In that time before he had taken himself and his brothers East, taking Fingon back to his bed had been the last thing on his mind. After, in his cold fortress and alone with his thoughts, he had almost been grateful for it, for never having asked. As if this was something Fingon would still want—the ruined body, the betrayals like landmarks etched into it.


A sweltering summer day during the Long Peace, a cool lake, and a revelation; it is enough to bring back together what Maedhros thought lost.

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