When Maedhros falls, Maglor wonders if it isn't easier simply to follow. But he is scared of the pain, scared of the burn that will surely ripple through his body.
He has always been a coward.
Once, he followed his brother in all things. Once.
But this is now, and the fall Maglor takes as he screams his brother's name is quite different to Maedhros' burning. For the fall of Maglor is into the dark, dark depths of his fears and his guilt, and it does not have an end in sight.
First comes his grandfather, warm, forgiving even him, but Finwë's body is lying on the floor and Feanor is screaming and screaming--then the smell of smoke fills his nostrils and he is crumbling. The jewel resurrects nightmares reality death laughter-
He throws Feanor's Silmaril away.
(and with it goes his hope.)
Oh, Maglor...
YOU ARE READING
Of fallen and the falling.
FanfictionMaglor and Maedhros. One fallen, one still falling.
