buried in broken faith

meril

she/they

adult

fandoms:

final fantasy xvi

silmarillion

fire emblem

fëanor/fingolfin/finarfin (any combination)

findis/lalwen

fingolfin/lalwen

fingolfin/maglor

maedhros/maglor (+ fingon)

celegorm/curufin

amrod/amras

turgon/aredhel

turgon/maeglin

finrod/galadriel

In the aftermath of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, the failure of the Union, the beacon of hope that was Maedhros had died.

For now, the most logical way forward to fulfill the Oath, as Celegorm had rightfully pointed out, was to repeat the very sin that had condemned them in the first place— to turn their blades upon their own kind, the followers of Dior Eluchil, Thingol’s Heir, who now held the only Silmaril stolen from Morgoth.

The leader that Maglor looked up to so fondly, that he would sacrifice anything for— was lost in a sea of gray, clinging to the last remnants of his broken ideals.

“And you would accept this, Maglor?” Maedhros snapped at his beloved brother, knowing no other would forgive his anger. “You would become a slave, to the Oath?”

“What I feel matters little, if at all,” Maglor admitted, meeting the fires of his brother’s wrath with determined eyes. “My feelings will not change what we both know must be done.”

“What must be done? You would have us become monsters!” Maedhros argued. “Is an advisor not meant to dissuade his leader, when he strays on the wrong path? I sought your guidance, and you only pull me deeper into the shadows… Do you have nothing to say for yourself?” Maedhros gripped Maglor’s shoulders, his breath heavy, tears flowing as he forcefully pressed his brother against the wall.

Maglor said nothing, as he endured Maedhros’s anger, another token of his brother's love.

“I thought better of you… You disgust me.”

“Tell me true... is this… who you really are, Nelyo?”

“No, I… I no longer know who I am anymore,” confessed Maedhros. “Perhaps I never did.”

“But we have lied to ourselves for this long, have we not?” Maglor tearfully reminded his brother, offering a manufactured smile to comfort him. “It would not hurt to lie a little longer. You still have something to live for, after all.” He gently placed a calloused hand on the scarred, beautiful skin of Maedhros's cheek, thumb gently brushing against his lip, his breath hitching. A sign of what they once had.