#*noldor

Upon Tol Eressëa, Círdan finds his family whole at last: Voronwë and Ilverion, joyously alive, and Lalwen and Hithaer, joyously reborn.

          In Angamando, Maitimo was subjected to all kinds of horrific torments. His first taste of truest evil occurred when he was turned over to the orc-captain Maidros as a reward for her victory in the battle where he was captured, but as soon as she laid a hand upon him she flinched back, some long-buried part of her awakening. In that moment, a glimmer of elvishness returned to her, and Maitimo recognized the orcs for what they were: captive elves twisted into something dark and evil. Throughout his long captivity he would learn much more about these horrid reflections of elvenkind and how to avoid being turned himself, but he first saw their true nature in Maidros, and at that time was yet able to reach into his tormentor’s fëa and commune with her, discovering that she once had been Silindë, mother of Míriel, and thus his own ancestor. In her brief moment of clarity, Silindë Maidros wept for what she had become and begged Nelyafinwë to kill her, a mercy he granted her with a heavy heart. He suffered greatly for the gift of this bitter blessing, and but to him it was worth it to know his great-grandmother’s spirit was free at last to seek healing in Mandos.           In the early days of his imprisonment, Maitimo was kept in good physical condition, for Moringotto conducted tournaments in the depths of his realm, pitting elven warriors against one another in battles to the death, or worse. The Oath of Fëanáro strangled Maitimo’s spirit and refused to allow him death even under the worst conditions, and with that awful motivation he dominated Moringotto’s championships to the point that the Dark Vala grew bored of his victories and turned him over instead to his the Úmaia Mairon, his favored Lieutenant.           Mairon took a particular delight in torturing the son of Fëanáro who had slighted his Master; he conversed with Maitimo intimately, prying his secrets out of his mind, and would shift his shape to take the forms of those Maitimo loved, corrupting fond memories and forcing an association between his dear ones and the torment to which he was subjected. He made Maitimo the subject of much magical and scientific experimentation, scarring his mind and body irreparably, and as a mark of ownership Mairon branded him with his personal sigil of an eye on the back of his neck. For this treatment he earned Maitimo’s burning hatred, and it was he who named the Úmaia Þauron, the Abhorred, by which he would be known in later Ages.           But Moringotto was the true Master of Angamando, and in his cruelty he forced himself upon Maitimo, and was darkly glad when his victim survived the violation that killed so many of his other elvish prisoners. Maitimo served as a trophy for Moringotto, bound and chained and forced to kneel at his feet; and when the Black Foe tired of him, he would be passed around to the various captains of the fortress and even among the orc-crowd, used for their sadistic pleasure. Yet the worst torment of all was not the damage done to Maitimo’s hröa or fëa, but his forced proximity to the Silmarils in Moringotto’s iron crown which he was sworn to retrieve, as the Oath gnawed away at his soul, unable to be fulfilled. To emphasize his utter failure, Moringotto carved a great wound into Maitimo’s face, a three-pronged gouge over his eye, symbolizing the three Silmarils forever out of his reach, and this dreadful mark would remain as a vicious scar upon him until the time of his death.           Maitimo was trapped in the pits of Angamando for years, his physical condition deteriorating under the weight of his torment and his soul falling to pieces from both his tortures and the pull of the Oath. Early on, Moringotto and Þauron had dismissed him as a source of information, for he knew little of the kin he had left on the far shores and less of Fëanáro’s secrets of jewelcraft; but when the Moon rose into the sky and the Host of Ñolofinwë at last reached Beleriand having crossed the Helcaraxë once deemed impassable, Moringotto’s rage was great, and he blamed Maitimo for lying and keeping secrets from him, though there was no way Maitimo might have known. In punishment, Moringotto hung his prisoner upon the cliffs of Thangorodrim, where he dangled helplessly by his right wrist even as his half-uncle’s host banged upon the very doors of Angamando in the first rising of the Sun.           Beyond all hope, Maitimo survived only by the grip of the Oath that refused to allow him to perish. He was thin and emaciated, bruised and bloodied, and his mind was all but shattered. He suffered hallucinations and cruel visions, many brought upon him by Þauron and others the product of his own wretched mind, and so when one day he heard a song of Valinórë carried on the wind, he believed it was nothing but an insidious trick. Yet the song only grew stronger, carried by a beautiful, beloved voice; and something not unlike his long-forsaken hope stirred with Maitimo’s breast, and he lifted up his own ruined voice in answer. Then into view came none other than Findekáno, his beloved husband, his fëa crying out clear and true, and Maitimo knew it was truly him, for never could Þauron or Moringotto fabricate even an approximation of his marriage bond. But Findekáno could not reach him, for the cliff-walls of Thangorodrim were sheer and impassable, and despair falling upon him again, Maitimo begged for his husband to kill him with an arrow, for he could not die of his own will but neither could he continue to live.           Filled with anguish, Findekáno strung an arrow to his bow, and even as he loosed the fateful dart he prayed to Manwë Súlimo of whom he had once been favored in Aman, and despite the Doom of the Noldor laid upon them Manwë was moved to pity, sending suddenly his servant Sorontar the King of Eagles to Findekáno’s aid. The shot flew wide, and Findekáno scrambled atop the great Eagle’s back, flying to save Maitimo at last. But the iron chain which held Maitimo fast to the cliffside would not break, for it was of Þauron’s own evil make, and Maitimo begged Findekáno to kill him once again. This time Findekáno refused to even make the attempt, and lifting his knife he severed Maitimo’s hand from his wrist, freeing him at last from his captivity.           Sorontar bore them back to the Ñolofinwëan settlement at Lake Mithrim, their return an unlooked-for miracle, and in the healer’s tent Maitimo was treated ceaselessly for weeks. When he at last awoke, only Findekáno’s fëa reaching out to him through their marriage bond was enough to convince him that he truly had been freed, and filled with equal measures of hope and fury, Maitimo resolved to live. On a time he was healed, and learned to wield a sword with his left hand better than he had with his right, and he and Findekáno admitted to Ñolofinwë the truth of their marriage, which now became an open secret among the Ñoldor. For a year he dwelt with Findekáno and his kin who with him had crossed the Grinding Ice, but eventually he grew strong enough to return to his own brethren on the other side of the lake.           Now the other sons of Fëanáro knew not of Maitimo’s rescue, and in his absence they were ruled by Makalaurë, the second son. Makalaurë refused the crown of the Noldor, clinging to the hope that Maitimo yet lived, but when the Ñolofinwëan host arrived to challenge their claim to leadership he at last allowed his brothers to pressure him into accepting the title of High King. On the very day Makalaurë was to be crowned, young Tyelperinquar, the only grandchild of Fëanáro, could not bear to be present for the grim ceremony, and so it was he who witnessed an impossible sight approaching: his uncle Maitimo, bent and disfigured but nonetheless living and walking toward him with the aid of Findekáno. Before the crown could be placed upon Makalaurë’s head, Tyelperinquar burst inside crying out that Nelyafinwë had returned, and the Sons of Fëanáro were at last reunited.           Nelyafinwë Maitimo reasserted his authority over his brothers and their host, and though they were all glad to see him living they were shocked by the great change that had come upon him, and he struggled to forgive them for their abandonment, no matter the wisdom of that choice. Though in the past he had been closest to Makalaurë, now he found himself most drawn to the youngest of his brothers, Umbarto, who like him had suffered greatly and yet bore the marks of his trial by fire. Many of Maitimo’s brothers protested when he made to reconcile with Ñolofinwë’s people, gifting them horses they had taken with them from Valinor and initiating trade between their settlements; and great was their outcry when he purposed to cede the High Kingship to Ñolofinwë, reconciling the two hosts of the Noldor at long last. But nothing could sway him from his decision, and so the crown passed from the House of Fëanáro to his hated half-brother, and Maitimo and his brothers were dispossessed, even as Mandos had foretold.           Now Maitimo felt ill-suited to the name his mother gave him, and as the Noldor learned the tongue of the Sindar he began to ponder changing what he was called. He discussed this with Findekáno and Ñolofinwë, and also with an Avar who had escaped from Angband amid a rebellion spurred by Maitimo’s own rescue and had since become his friend. Once he had been known as Rōka, but he now proudly wore the name Rôg, meaning “demon,” a moniker he had earned in Angband for his ferocity in defying the true demons who lorded over Morgoth’s thralls. Taking Rôg’s story into consideration and remembering Maidros Silindë his great-grandmother, Nelyafinwë Maitimo Russandol crafted himself a new name out of the fragments of the old: Maedhros, taken from the elements Mait and Russ and echoing the name Maidros in his own quiet honoring of Silindë.           Though the Noldor were reconciled under the rulership of Ñolofinwë, who now took up the name Fingolfin in the Grey-elven tongue, the two hosts yet held tension between them and Maedhros thought it wise to take his brothers and depart into the east of Beleriand, setting up a leaguer against Morgoth and removing them from potential conflict with their kin. In this he quarrelled with Rôg, who believed it unwise to face the Enemy directly while their strength was not fully gathered, and thus the two friends parted ways, never to meet again. Bidding a sorrowful farewell to Findekáno his husband, Maedhros took his people and traveled east, constructing a fortress upon the Hill of Himring and gathering many brave soldiers and ex-thralls under his command. When the keep was completed, Maedhros sent his brothers to establish their own lands while he remained as Himring’s lord, watching over the plain of Ard-galen and the not-so-distant towers of Thangorodrim.           Twenty years after the rising of the Sun, High King Fingolfin held a mighty feast at the Wells of Ivrin, inviting all his scattered kindred and their newly-established Sindarin allies. Here at last Maedhros reunited with his husband, now known as Fingon, and their meeting was great and glad. When the feast concluded, Fingon departed with Maedhros to dwell in Himring for a year, and throughout the Siege of Angband they would visit one another off and on, and exchanged frequent correspondence on matters both political and personal. They fought together, along with all their kin, at the Dagor Aglareb, forcing Morgoth into hiding in Angband and establishing a Long Peace which lasted four centuries, interrupted only by small skirmishes, for Maedhros was ever-vigilant and never let Morgoth forget his most fearsome enemy kept watch upon Himring Hill.            In this time, the Noldor came into contact with both dwarves and Men, and though few of the Edain braved the harsh conditions of Himring, those mortal warriors who pledged their service to Maedhros the Tall were mighty indeed. On a visit to his brother Caranthir, Maedhros saved King Azaghâl of Belegost from orcs on the Dwarf-road, and the two became fast friends. From Azaghâl he received a mighty gift, the Dragon-helm, which he passed on to Fingon, who had chased the dragon Glaurung back into Angband some years prior. Another gift he gave also to his husband: the Green Stone of Fëanor reforged by his nephew Celebrimbor into an enchanted jewel known as the Elessar. In return, Fingon blessed Maedhros with twin children, Ereinion Gil-galad and Erien the Fearless, who were the best and brightest parts of his life. Those days together as a family were glad, if brief, though Maedhros yet dwelled primarily in Himring while his husband and children remained in Hithlum.           Yet the Siege of Angband could not endure forever, and when Morgoth judged the Noldor to be complacent in their Long Peace he sent forth his dragon-servants with their evil fire to break the leaguer set upon him. This Battle of Sudden Flame was disastrous, and in it fell many brave and noble warriors of the Eldar and Edain, and the eastern realms held by the Sons of Fëanor fell one by one. But Maedhros held Himring, and took in Maglor his brother, and refused to allow Morgoth to take full victory. Seeing the destruction wrought upon his people, High King Fingolfin rode in wrath to face Morgoth in single combat, and though he was slain he wounded the Dark Vala’s foot and moreover his pride, so that he never again fought in battle himself.           With the death of his father, Fingon took up the throne of the Noldor with a heavy heart. Maedhros entrusted Himring to Maglor’s care and rode to his side, supporting him as best he could as the burden of the crown he had passed to Fingolfin’s line settled upon his husband’s shoulders. Their children they sent away to the Falas in sorrow, where they would be cared for by Lord Círdan and his partner their great-aunt Lalwen; and despite their promises to Gil-galad and Erien that this was not a farewell forever, never again would their family be whole.           As Fingon struggled to wrest control of Beleriand from the Enemy, a new group of Men crossed the Blue Mountains and entered the land. These folk came from further east than the Edain, and the first elves they encountered were the Sons of Fëanor. The clan led by Pegmûl allied themselves with Caranthir and settled in his former lands of Thargelion, which were just beginning to recover from the Dagor Bragollach; but the clan led by Kulren swore allegiance to Maedhros and took up residence in the lands around Himring.           At this time a marvelous quest was undertaken by the mortal Beren son of Barahir to win the hand of his beloved Lúthien daughter of Thingol. Through much peril and grief, they ultimately prevailed and wrested a Silmaril from the crown of Morgoth, proving that he could be beaten. And though his cousin Finrod Felagund perished aiding their quest, and his brothers Celegorm and Curufin made enemies of Felagund’s kingdom of Nargothrond and further antagonized Thingol in Doriath, who had no love for the slayers of his kin, Maedhros nevertheless found his heart lifted up in hope that Morgoth might be defeated and the Oath fulfilled.           Taking counsel with High King Fingon, Maedhros began to build a great alliance of all the Free-peoples of Middle-earth, a Union that would bear his name. The Noldor of Hithlum and the Sindar of Mithrim and the Falas answered his call to arms, as did the mortal Houses of Hador and Haleth and the Fëanorions’ new allies led by Kulren and Pegmûl, and the dwarves of Belegost, led by Maedhros’ friend Azaghâl, also pledged their support. Though they would not fight, the dwarves of Nogrod sent weapons and supplies, and even the Green-elves of Ossiriand agreed to allow traffic through their lands in support of this noble goal. But no help came from Doriath or Nargothrond, slighted as they had been by Maedhros and his kin, and from Gondolin no word came ever out of the Encircling Mountains.           The Union of Maedhros came together in might and cleared Beleriand of orcs, regaining control of the lands, but in this they moved too soon, revealing the fullness of their strength to Morgoth, who now plotted against them. From Nogrod, Maedhros received the last great work of the smith Telchar, who had also crafted the Dragon-helm of Dor-lómin: this was the blade Narþil, which would gain much fame in later Ages. Emboldened by his powerful sword, Maedhros reached out once more to Nargothrond and Doriath asking for aid and apologizing for the insolence of his brothers, and this time Orodreth sent a single company out of Nargothrond while Thingol permitted his two greatest warriors, Beleg and Mablung, to march under the banner of Fingon, though they alone of his people went to war.           Thus Fingon and Maedhros planned a two-pronged assault upon Angband, attacking from both the east and west that they might crush Morgoth’s forces utterly. And when the day of this Fifth Battle dawned, Fingon’s brother Turgon, who had long since vanished into his hidden city of Gondolin, suddenly appeared with an army of ten thousand soldiers, and Fingon’s heart was lifted, and he cried out: Utúlie’n aurë! The night is passing! But he spoke to soon, for Maedhros had been betrayed by the sons of Pegmûl, who delayed their march to the battlefield, and when the conflict began Fingon’s host faced the wrath of the Enemy alone. Indeed, Maedhros would never again see his beloved husband, for the treachery of Pegmûl’s people and the flames of the dragon Glaurung drove his forces into retreat even as Maedhros felt his marriage bond break as Fingon was slain by Gothmog, the very Balrog who had killed his father also.           Driven wild by his grief, Maedhros was grievously injured attempting to cut through his foes to save his fallen husband and had to be dragged off the field by his brothers. The sons of Fëanor and their remaining followers fled into Ossiriand, where they lived a wild and woodland life for two decades, as the last elven strongholds had fallen, including Maedhros’ fortress of Himring, and only the hidden kingdoms remained. Only when the Black Sword of Nargothrond made the roads of Beleriand somewhat safer did they slink out of the forests to settle in their old fortress of Amon Ereb, where they found that Maedhros’ steward Erestor had gathered a remnant of their people and prepared the keep for his lords.           But after the death of Fingon, Maedhros was never again the same, and a dark change came upon him even greater and grimmer than his transformation in Angband. When Nargothrond fell, he made no move to offer aid to its straggling survivors; when Thingol was slain and the Girdle of Melian no more, he did nothing. Indeed he did not even restrain his wicked brothers, leaving that duty to Maglor, who was ill-suited to the task, and when Celegorm rallied them to attack Thingol’s heir Dior to regain the Silmaril won by Lúthien, Maedhros conceded and led them in battle. This Second Kinslaying was a bloodbath on both sides, for Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin were all slain, and Dior also; it was his wife Nimloth who slew Curufin last of all, and in vengeance Maedhros slew her in view of her young children, who fled into the forest. Later Maedhros learned that Nimloth’s twin sons had been seized by the cruel servants of Celegorm, and retaliation for their lord’s death they abandoned the little boys in the cold of Doriath’s winter to die. This awoke Maedhros’ fury and horror, and in rage he slaughtered the servants despite their protests and plunged into the woods in search of the children. But though he searched for days, he found no trace of them, and eventually Amrod and Amras persuaded him to give up the search.           Maedhros, Maglor, and the twins returned to Amon Ereb empty-handed and with half their warriors missing or slain. Amrod and Amras retreated into the wilds they once had ruled, while Maedhros and Maglor remained in the keep, developing new ways to treat each other viciously in the gaping chasm left by their dead brothers. Maglor, who had fought to dissuade his brothers against attacking Doriath, now blamed Maedhros for their loss, while the brief spark of life kindled within Maedhros while searching for Nimloth’s twins left him feeling more hollow and bitter than ever before when it was snuffed out. Yet when word reached Amon Ereb of a Silmaril in the Havens of Sirion, held by Dior’s daughter Elwing who had somehow survived the Ruin of Doriath, Maedhros foreswore the Oath, fighting against the call for more violence as he never had before.           But the Oath of Fëanor had sustained him through horrific torment and monumental loss, and its grip upon his soul was too strong and deep to be escaped. The Oath returned to torment Maedhros and his remaining brothers, and though he cared little for his own sanity and spitefully wished for Maglor to feel the same devastation as him, when Amrod and Amras returned to Amon Ereb as wretched shades of the elves they once had been, he knew he could resist the pull no longer. Thus Maedhros led his brothers into a third Kinslaying, the most grievous of all three, and they fell upon the refugees at Sirion seeking Elwing’s jewel. There Amras and Amrod wreaked horrific devastation upon the settlement, and met their own ends in terror and blood, but Maedhros and Maglor survived to chase Elwing up into her seaside tower. Yet she would not surrender the Silmaril, and so she leapt from her window into the sea, to her presumed death.           With Elwing and the gem out of reach, the grip of the Oath slackened, and Maedhros and Maglor sat back to weep at their evil deeds and the slaying of their youngest brothers. But even as they lamented, Maglor discovered that Elwing had left behind her twin sons, and so despite Maedhros’ warning that only ill could come of it, he took the boys into his care and returned with them to Amon Ereb. In that lonely fortress, Elrond and Elros were raised with as much comfort and love as might be found amid the horrors of Beleriand, and they took Maglor as their foster-father; and in time Maedhros became dear to them as well, and in the hands of Elrond, Maedhros held once again the Elessar he had given to Fingon, for it had made its way to Gondolin and into the twins’ possession from their father Eärendil, Turgon’s grandson.           In the sky rose a new star, named Gil-Estel by the scattered remnants of Beleriand’s Free-peoples, but Maedhros and Maglor saw it for what it was at once: a Silmaril, borne up into the heavens by the power of the Valar, who must somehow have saved Elwing and Eärendil and sent them forth to bring hope to their kindred. Maglor took it as the sign hope it was meant to be, but Maedhros only saw the fulfillment of their Oath move ever out of reach, and despair clouded his mind once more. Even when the Host of the Valar arrived to fight against Morgoth’s domination, he could not bring himself to believe that victory was possible, though he offered the aid of his people in this War of Wrath. At first he was denied, but as the fighting began and the united armies led by none other than his uncle Arafinwë learned the true strength of the Enemy, he was allowed to make war alongside his guiltless kin. Maedhros even met his long-sundered children again, and though Erien and Gil-galad were not glad to see their murderous father, he took heart in the strength and nobility of Fingon’s offspring and was deeply proud of them both. When Maglor sent Elrond and Elros away for their safety, Maedhros was relieved to learn that the younger set of twins had been taken under High King Gil-galad’s wing, for he knew his son would care for them as they deserved.           At long last, Morgoth was overthrown and Angband destroyed, and the remaining two Silmarils were wrested from the Iron Crown and taken into the custody of Eönwë, herald of Manwë. Then Maedhros and Maglor, weary beyond comprehension, felt the Oath stir them to action once more, and when Eönwë demanded their surrender they knew they must make a choice. Maglor desired to give in and return to Valinor as they were bidden, where they would be tried and perhaps allowed to gain the jewels by the Valar’s favor; but Maedhros would not be imprisoned once again, and he did not believe they would be judged favorably. At length Maglor bent to his elder brother’s will, and so they took up their swords once more and crept alone to where the Silmarils were kept, slaying the guards and seizing the case that held their father’s holy jewels.           They were soon discovered and surrounded, and their last act of evil was thus witnessed by the children they held dear, but Eönwë would not suffer them to be slain, and let them flee into the wild lands of crumbling Beleriand. Then, divided in regret and resentment, Maedhros and Maglor agreed to each take up one of the two jewels for which they had killed, but as soon as they laid a hand upon the holy gems their hands were burned with pain unbearable, for their violence had forfeited their right to their father’s creations.           His only remaining hand now rendered useless, Maedhros stumbled away in despair, seeking a final release from the torment of his life. And coming upon a tear in the dying earth, he held the jewel to his chest and cast himself into a gaping chasm filled with fire, and so ended, taking the Silmaril with him into death, devoured by flame and at long last sundered from his mangled hröa. To where his fëa fled, only Mandos knows, and Maglor witnessing his awful fate cast his own Silmaril into the sea, and left Elvendom forever, wandering the shores in lament for the Noldor and most of all Maedhros his brother.

          Though he had no intentions to wed, that did not stop Tyelkormo from appreciating the beauty of his cousin Írissë. Recently come of age, she flirted with him outrageously, and would often join him and his brothers on smaller hunts, fitting right in among the sons of Fëanáro. Her brother Findekáno would often slip away with Maitimo, leaving Tyelkormo in charge of the rest (for Makalaurë rarely went on such excursions, too busy with his music), and her advances soon charmed him. Confident that Carnistir and Curufinwë could manage their young twin brothers the Ambarussar, Tyelkormo took to slipping away with Írissë, indulging in pleasures of the hröar that most Eldar reserved for marriage. Yet neither of them desired to form a bond, and both were strong of will, and so their friendship took on an element of scandalous intimacy without solidifying into a “proper” union.           Meanwhile, Curufinwë Atarinkë found his own heart turned toward thoughts of marriage, for his eye was drawn to Quildalótië Ñillendil, the daughter of Daurin, one of Fëanáro’s staunchest supporters. Though Quildalótië was not a smith herself, she expressed great interest in jewelcraft and was a talented broideress in the tradition of Míriel Þerindë his grandmother. With the approval of their parents, they began courting, and in a matter of years they announced their intention to wed. Curufinwë’s parents had quarreled in recent years, but his wedding brought them back together, and for a time there was much joy in the House of Fëanáro.           When the twins Ambarussa came of age and expressed interest in joining the Hunt of Oromë like their elder brother Tyelkormo, Fëanáro grew rash and angry once more. He had tolerated Tyelkormo’s loyalty to a Vala, but refused to lose more of his sons to the influence of the Powers. Insulted on his Vala’s behalf, Tyelkormo fought with his father, and when they could reach no agreement he departed from Fëanáro’s home for several years. Though Curufinwë missed his brother terribly, he remained loyal to his father, for he loved Fëanáro and held little regard for the Valar himself.           Only when Quildalótië announced she was with child did Curufinwë reach out to Tyelkormo again. This child would be the first of Fëanáro’s grandchildren, and Curufinwë was both excited and anxious to become a father himself. Tyelkormo returned home at once, reconciling with Fëanáro and swearing to remain faithful to his family from thence forth, and both he and Curufinwë were overjoyed when Quildalótië gave birth to a big, beautiful baby boy. Curufinwë named his son after himself and his father, while Quildalótië named him for her foresight of his skill as a silversmith, and thus Curufinwë Tyelperinquar, third to bear his father-name, was welcomed into the House of Fëanáro.           Fëanáro’s skill continued to grow, and his pride with it. He crafted many wonderful things, fixating particularly upon capturing light in fair vessels, and while at first he shared his craft with his favorite son, soon Curufinwë realized that while he knew how to craft Fëanárian Lamps, all his father’s experiments with the Light of the Trees were kept secret even from him. Fëanáro’s temper became shorter than ever, and once more he quarreled with Tyelkormo over his loyalties, and torn between losing his family and his craft, Tyelkormo at last left the Hunt of Oromë and swore fealty to his father above all else. He expected Huan to return to his Vala, but his friend was faithful to Tyelkormo above all, and remained with him, much to his gratitude and joy.           It was not only the Valar who Fëanáro distrusted, however, and his long-simmering resentment of his half-kin of the line of Indis now came roaring to the forefront of his ire. Stirred up by the lies of Melkor, though none knew so at the time, Fëanáro spoke harshly of his half-brothers, especially Nolofinwë, father of Írissë. This caused great strain on the friendships of their children, and though Maitimo and Findekáno clung to one another, Tyelkormo and Írissë fought in a mirror image of their fathers. They stopped seeing each other and were cold to one another in public, and when Írissë considered joining the Hunt of Oromë herself, in his bitterness and jealousy Tyelkormo mocked her wishes and discouraged her from taking her place among the greatest hunters in Aman, though greatly she deserved the honor.           When Fëanáro drew a sword upon his half-brother, he was exiled to Formenos for his crime despite the revelation of Melkor’s influence upon his mind. Tyelkormo and Curufinwë followed him into exile without question, loyal sons as they were, and though Quildalótië began to feel uneasy about the intentions of her law-father, she and young Tyelperinquar went also. This time in isolation further hardened the brothers’ hearts against their half-kin, and only the horrific shock of the Darkening of Valinor and Melkor’s murder of Finwë their king and grandfather could bring them crashing back together again. As Fëanáro rallied the Noldor to flight and revenge, Tyelkormo and Írissë reconciled and swore friendship once more, though Tyelkormo would prove faithless in this regard.           While tragedy brought some Eldar together, it drove others apart. Quildalótië had long remained silent on her true feelings, but in the face of rebellion against the Valar her resolve at last broke, and she let loose her tongue upon her husband. She rebuked him and Fëanáro, refused to accompany him to Endórë, and demanded he leave Tyelperinquar behind with her. Astonished and outraged, Curufinwë refused her, insisting that their son was now old enough to choose which parent he would follow. Quildalótië protested that Tyelperinquar had not quite reached his first coming of age, but her little Tyelpë hero-worshipped his father and grandfather and insisted on accompanying them into exile, as Curufinwë had known he would. Incensed and deeply grieved, for all her family save her youngest brother had chosen to to depart as well, Quildalótië threw her wedding ring back into her once-husband’s face and abandoned him, her heart hardening to him forever. In the aftermath of his departure, she would find the ring in the streets of Tirion and melt it down as a symbol of their broken bond, never to be repaired.           However bitter and furious he was, Curufinwë remained a protective father, and ensured that Tyelperinquar did not swear the dreadful Oath he and his brothers bound themselves to in Fëanáro’s example, and that he stayed out of the Kinslaying at Alqualondë. Yet both he and Tyelperinquar lit the stolen swan-ships aflame at Losgar, damning their half-kin across the Sea to crawl back to Tirion in disgrace—or else attempt to cross the impassable Helcaraxë. Not even Tyelkormo hesitated to doom Írissë to this awful fate, and alone of Fëanáro’s host only Maitimo stood aside for love of his dear Findekáno.           Near as soon as they landed upon the shores of Middle-earth, the Enemy Moringotto sent an army of his orcish slaves to attack the elves. Fëanáro led his sons against them in a resounding victory, and Tyelkormo proved especially heroic in that battle, for he alone of the Noldor had faced such monsters before while in the train of Oromë. He sallied forth with Huan at his side, liberating the elves of the Falas from a dreadful siege, and won the friendship of Círdan for his valour. Yet the danger had not passed, for Fëanáro refused the advice of Maitimo to proceed with caution and instead marched for Moringotto’s dark fortress, purposing to slay him and seize the Silmarils, for his Oath burned within him. But Moringotto loosed great fire-monsters against him, and these corrupted Maiar, the Balrogs, overwhelmed Fëanáro’s host, slaughtering them all and wrapping their fiery whips around their leader. Long did Fëanáro resist them, laughing madly all the while, but at last he was smitten to the ground by Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, and would have died had not his sons come upon him suddenly to save him.           His sons bore him up and retreated, but his wounds were mortal, and even as they reached the shadow of the mountains, he bade them halt and demanded they renew their Oath with his dying breath. Though Maitimo took his place as their leader he too was soon taken from them, dragged into the depths of Angamando after a parlay gone wrong. Now Makalaurë, next-eldest, was left to lead them, but in the eyes of Tyelkormo and Curufinwë he was unfit for the task. They spoke out against their brother, insisting Tyelkormo would be a stronger leader, one who would truly claim the High Kingship of the Noldor instead of refusing the title like Makalaurë did in some vain hope that Maitimo might yet live. Their other brothers did not speak openly against Makalaurë, but neither did they rebuke Curufinwë and Tyelkormo, and Makalaurë began to buckle under the pressure placed upon him.           Upon the miraculous and unlooked-for arrival of the second host of the Noldor led by Nolofinwë, Makalaurë at last allowed his brothers to pressure him into accepting the title of High King, for he would not cede it to rash and vindictive Tyelkormo. On the very day Makalaurë was to be crowned, young Tyelperinquar could not bear to be present for the grim ceremony, and so it was he who witnessed an impossible sight approaching: his uncle Maitimo, bent and disfigured but nonetheless living and walking toward him with the aid of Findekáno, who had saved him from his torment against all odds. Before the crown could be placed upon Makalaurë’s head, Tyelperinquar burst inside crying out that Nelyafinwë had returned, and the Sons of Fëanáro were at last reunited.           Though Maitimo’s brothers were all glad to see him living, they were shocked by the great change that had come upon him, and Tyelkormo and Curufinwë were not a little resentful of the foiling of their schemes. They protested against Maitimo’s reconciliation with Nolofinwë’s people, and their outcry was great when he ceded the High Kingship to their half-uncle. This was an insult to the memory of Fëanáro, for whom Curufinwë in particular nursed a deep and lasting grief, but nothing could sway Maitimo from his decision, and so the crown passed from the House of Fëanáro to his hated half-brother, and Maitimo and his brothers were dispossessed.           Yet slowly their tempers cooled. Tyelkormo and Írissë met once again, and though their confrontation this time was vicious it soon devolved into passion. Never again would they be as close as they once were, but no longer did hatred lie between them, and they were determined to start anew. Curufinwë had no long-lost friendships with his half-kin to reignite, focusing instead on his responsibility to Maedhros his eldest brother and his lord. He crafted a skilful prosthetic hand for his brother to replace the one lost upon Thangorodrim, and though Maedhros did not wear this often he was nonetheless deeply grateful for Curufinwë’s thoughtfulness.           Maedhros took his brothers and their followers eastward to establish their own lands. When the construction of his fortress upon the Hill of Himring was completed, the brothers went their separate ways, but Tyelkormo and Curufinwë remained together as they would for the rest of their days. They settled the land of Himlad, fortifying the pass of Aglon and holding it with great strength for many long years. Tyelkormo took the name Celegorm and established a mighty Hunt of his own with Huan at his side; Curufinwë became known as Curufin and built a great smithy where many fine tools and weapons were crafted; and Tyelperinquar became Celebrimbor, growing into a noble elf and refining his skills in silvercraft, ring-lore, and much else besides.           Ever at Curufin’s side as his right hand was Sinwatië, sister of Quildalótië who had remained behind. Alone of her siblings she survived to thrive in Middle-earth, and despite the bitter parting between her sister and her lord she served Curufin faithfully for all his days. Curufin trusted Sinwatië even more than he did Celegorm, at times, for she was cool-headed and quick where his brother was bold and reckless. Not wishing to attend himself, Curufin sent Sinwatië to the Mereth Aderthad as his representative—and to keep an eye on both young Celebrimbor and wild Celegorm.           Yet Curufin did not always remain to tend the hearth-fires of Himlad. When his brother Caranthir invited him to visit the cities of Belegost and Nogrod where the dwarves, children of Aulë, made their dwellings, he and Celebrimbor were glad to attend a conference of smiths where they befriended many dwarves, including the great smith Telchar, to whom Curufin gave a Sindarin use-name and from whom he received the knife Angrist. There he also met Eöl the Dark Elf, a reclusive smith who dwelt alone in Nan Elmoth, and though they were not friends neither were they enemies, and for a time they profited from trade between them.           Now in Beleriand, Írissë had taken in the name Aredhel Ar-Feiniel, the White Lady of the Noldor, and she had departed with her brother Turukáno to the hidden city of Gondolin, from whence no news came. Yet after centuries of isolation, Aredhel rode forth into the wilds once more, defying her brother’s wishes, and sought out the company of Celegorm and Curufin her friends. But the timing of this visit was ill, for when she reached Himlad her cousins were away on a visit to Caranthir their brother, and she grew restless and bored waiting for them. Thus she left Himlad and wandered the nearby forests in curiosity, and when Celegorm and Curufin returned they heard only that she had disappeared into the wood of Nan Elmoth. Celegorm followed her to the forest’s borders, where he was rebuffed by Eöl its lord, who claimed that Aredhel had become his wife and wished not to leave her new home.           Upset and betrayed, Celegorm returned these tidings to Curufin, who told him all he knew of Eöl. It was not a favorable picture, and Celegorm grew to deeply resent Eöl for stealing away his favorite cousin and former bedmate, for all neither he nor Aredhel had ever expressed a desire to bond in marriage. Indeed, this troubled him deeply, for he could not imagine that Aredhel’s mind would have changed: she was a free spirit, and her heart’s love was given to none, least of all a strange Dark Elf who hid her away in darkness. But if it was true, and she had wed Eöl, such a deed must have been done willingly, and he would not disrespect her and her choices by challenging Eöl’s place as her husband.           But in truth Aredhel’s marriage was not of her own free will, for Eöl had woven enchantments about her and taken her to wife without her full consent. In time she bore him a child, Maeglin Lómion, and slowly reasserted her independence. At last she and Maeglin escaped, fleeing Nan Elmoth while Eöl was away and heading back to Gondolin where she trusted her brother would keep them safe. Yet Eöl returned sooner than they expected, and finding his wife and son gone he rushed after them in fury. Along the way he met Curufin at the Fords of Aros, for Sinwatië and her scouts had marked the passing of Aredhel and Maeglin and he sensed stranged deeds were afoot. Thus Curufin and Eöl met again, and only cold suspicion lay between them; but Curufin revealed that Aredhel and Maeglin had not come to Himlad, spurring Eöl onward. Dark was Curufin’s heart at these tidings, and he threatened Eöl with death should he meet him once more, but Eöl did not listen to his warnings and rushed away. Never again were he or Aredhel or Maeglin seen in those lands, and Curufin would regret staying his hand when the truth of their fate became known.            The Siege of Angband could not endure forever, and when Morgoth judged the Noldor to be complacent in their Long Peace he sent forth his dragon-servants with their evil fire to break the leaguer set upon him. This Battle of Sudden Flame was disastrous, and in it fell many brave and noble warriors of the Eldar and Edain, and the eastern realms held by the Sons of Fëanor fell one by one. Defeated and thrust from their lands, Celegorm and Curufin fled south by the marches of Doriath, but found no mercy from the Sindar of that land, and through great tribulations they at last arrived in Nargothrond seeking refuge from their cousin Finrod Felagund. Yet while Finrod welcomed them in friendship, they grieved heavy losses of their people, for many had fallen by the wayside on their journey. But it was not quite so grim as they feared, for Sinwatië had escaped with a number of their folk and headed north instead to Himring, and many thought dead yet lived.           In Nargothrond, Curufin and Celegorm found themselves disquieted and straining against Felagund’s laws. Their influence diminished, and their resentment grew, and soon they began to scheme between them ways to wrest power from Finrod’s hands. Still Finrod showed them kindness, and comforted them amid their losses, especially when word came at last from Gondolin speaking of Aredhel’s death many decades ago. Here Curufin and Celegorm fought viciously, each blaming the other for her demise, and Celegorm began to hate the Sindar and Elu Thingol especially for allowing Eöl to steal away a princess of the Noldor. He looked unkindly upon Felagund, Thingol’s kinsman and ally, and once he and Curufin mended their relationship they spread rumors among his people of his weakness and the cruel treatment of the sons of Fëanor who should rightly be kings among the Noldor and not lowly guests in Finrod’s house.           At this time a mortal Man came to Nargothrond: Beren son of Barahir, to whom Finrod had sworn an oath of aid and friendship after Barahir saved his life. Beren showed to Felagund the ring upon which that oath was sworn, reminding him of his vow and asking him to fulfill it by aiding him in obtaining a Silmaril, the bride-price of Lúthien Thingol’s daughter. Though he knew his doom was upon him, Finrod agreed, and the Oath of Fëanor was awakened with Celegorm and Curufin. Long had it slept in the face of Morgoth’s unassailable might, but now it roared to life in the face of a lesser challenge, one that could be faced.           Thus it was that Celegorm and Curufin struck at last. Felagund attempted to rally his people to Beren’s cause, for they loved him, but Curufin and Celegorm had rose up against him and spoke with such strength and persuasiveness that only ten loyal companions would aid their king. Celegorm spoke passionately of the Oath and their right to the Silmaril, a right Beren could never obtain, and Curufin’s softer words sank into the hearts and minds of the Nargothrondrim. Thus betrayed and unkinged, Finrod cast off his crown and set out to fulfill his own oath, leaving Celegorm and Curufin to rule over his kingdom, and he would not return.           Now it was Thingol, King of Doriath, who had set this quest in motion when he demanded that Beren bring to him a Silmaril in exchange for the hand of Lúthien his daughter. He thought this a fool’s errand, one upon which Beren would surely die, but he underestimated Beren’s determination and valour, and the strength of Lúthien herself. Though he trapped her in a treehouse prison, Lúthien escaped, and seeking her beloved she came to the Guarded Plain. There she met Celegorm and Curufin, out hunting with Huan, and seeing them as friends she told them of her plight, but they were treacherous, and kept their foreknowledge of Beren’s quest from her until they locked her within the walls of Nargothrond.           Imagining he could force Doriath into an alliance with the sons of Fëanor, Celegorm demanded Lúthien become his wife and forget Beren entirely. This she refused, much to his anger, and his heart turned ever darker, thinking now that he might steal away a princess of the Sindar in retribution for Eöl’s theft of Aredhel. But despite the cruelty of Eöl, and the cruelty Celegorm now showed, neither Aredhel nor Lúthien were property to be claimed, and as Aredhel had so now did Lúthien escape. For Huan, Celegorm’s faithful hound, was true of heart and loved Lúthien from the first hour of their meeting, and seeing Celegorm’s fall into darkness he freed Lúthien and rushed to Tol-in-Gaurhoth where Beren was imprisoned and Finrod Felagund had died.           There Lúthien defeated Gorthaur the Cruel and freed the prisoners of his dread castle, including Beren her beloved, though she arrived too late for Finrod. Their quest continued, but the ex-thralls of Tol-in-Gaurhoth now stumbled back to their homes, and thus word reached Nargothrond of Felagund’s demise. Then the hearts of the people turned against Celegorm and Curufin, seeing their selfish treachery, and their loyalty returned to the House of Finarfin and to Orodreth, Felagund’s nephew. Thus Celegorm and Curufin were cast out, though Celebrimbor son of Curufin repudiated his father’s deeds and remained under the protection of Orodreth, now the King of Nargothrond.           Faithful Huan returned now to Celegorm’s side, and despite his misgivings followed his master as he and Curufin fled to take refuge with Maedhros in Himring. But along the road they encountered Beren and Lúthien once more, and in their rage they attacked them, blaming them for their downfall. Curufin attempted to swoop Lúthien up into his saddle, but Beren made a mighty leap and took Curufin by the throat from behind, hurling them both to the ground and throttling him near to death. Celegorm rode up on him with a spear, but in that hour Huan forsook the service of Celegorm for good, and sprang upon him saving Beren’s life. Lúthien forbade Beren to slay Curufin, and so he relented, but he took from him his knife Angrist and much of his gear, and lifted Lúthien upon his horse. Celegorm took Curufin upon his own horse, but as they rode away Curufin turned back to shoot at them once more, so filled with shame and malice was he, and though his first arrow was caught by Huan the second struck Beren, and they were chased by Huan for many leagues, their once-loyal companion now their enemy as a consequence of their own foul deeds.           Now despite the deeds of Celegorm and Curufin, Beren and Lúthien lived, and succeeded in their quest, cutting a Silmaril from Morgoth’s crown with Angrist, Curufin’s own knife. Theirs is a story of sorrow and joy both, but though even Maedhros took heart in their victory, now believing Morgoth could be defeated, Curufin and Celegorm felt only bitter resentment. Maedhros reprimanded his brothers for their evils, of which Finrod’s death was not the least, and they were deeply shamed. Yet when word came that Thingol held the Silmaril won by Lúthien, their hearts turned ever blacker, and they wrote to him demanding their father’s jewel with haughty rudeness.            Maedhros now gathered the Free-peoples of Beleriand to his banner, forming a great Union against their common enemy, Morgoth. But for the cruel treatment of Lúthien and their pride in insulting his right to the jewel for which his daughter and her husband had died (for all they returned to life afterwards), Thingol refused to send any aid to the Union, weakening Maedhros’ chances significantly. Of a like mind was Orodreth, and only a single company marched out of Nargothrond to join the Union, in retribution for Finrod’s demise. Fearing Maedhros’ justified wrath, Celegorm and Curufin traveled to Amon Ereb where the remainder of their brothers dwelt, and helped them rally their armies to join the Union in the Fifth Battle Maedhros and Fingon, now High King of the Noldor, were planning.           But the battle turned ill, for Caranthir’s mortal allies betrayed them, and the field was lost. Many were slain, including Fingon the beloved husband of Maedhros, but all seven sons of Fëanor survived to flee into the forests of Ossiriand. There they endured a wild and woodland life for many years, scattered and scarred, before retreating at last to Amon Ereb, their last remaining fortress. They quarreled often, and where once Maedhros might have interceded, so caught up in his grief was he that now he did nothing at all, and so the duty of restraining their wicked brothers fell to Maglor, ill-suited as ever to the task. Celegorm and Curufin were especially vicious, to one another as well as their other brothers, and a grim darkness fell upon them all: the Oath was eating them alive.           In this time Nargothrond fell to Morgoth and was utterly destroyed. Celegorm laughed, taking cruel satisfaction in Orodreth’s downfall, but Curufin remained silent, for Celebrimbor his son had remained there and despite his professed disdain for such a “traitor,” he still deeply loved his son and feared for his life. Only when word reached Amon Ereb of Celebrimbor’s arrival at the Havens of Sirion with a group of refugees could Curufin sleep.           Nargothrond was only the first hidden kingdom to fall: next Thingol was slain in a quarrel with the dwarves of Nogrod, and within a year Lúthien passed away as well, her spirit departing beyond the circles of Arda. Now Dior Eluchíl ruled Doriath and bore with him the Silmaril won by Lúthien, and without the protective Girdle of Melian, Doriath for the first time seemed assailable. Seeing an opportunity to fulfill the Oath, Celegorm rallied his brothers to attack the realm that was guarded no longer, and when Maedhros conceded, he led them into battle despite Maglor’s protests.           This Second Kinslaying was a bloodbath on all sides, and three of Fëanor’s sons were slain amid the fighting. Caranthir was the first to fall, and then Celegorm, dueling Dior for the Silmaril. When Dior struck the killing blow, it was Curufin who lunged forth to avenge his beloved brother, only to die himself on the blade of Nimloth, Dior’s queen. Maedhros killed Nimloth in retribution, but though the royal house of Doriath was all but exterminated, the assault proved futile, for the Silmaril was nowhere to be found. Grieving their lord, the servants of Celegorm seized Dior’s twin sons and abandoned them in the woods to die, and though Maedhros in his rage slew them also, the children could not be found.           Thus died Celegorm and Curufin, perhaps the cruelest of the sons of Fëanor; but though their lives ended in darkness they did not begin so, and though much evil came of their deeds, it was Celebrimbor son of Curufin who in the end would craft the seed of the downfall of the Dark Lords once and for all.