Maedhros: nnnng AHHHH g g g

Fëanor, plucking him from his cradle: SO! You want your blanket refolded into a triangle and not a square. Admirable aesthetic judgement. It shall be done.

(With his other arm he refolds it with unnecessary geometric precision)

(Maedhros grabs for Fëanor’s circlet while drooling on his collar)

Fëanor: Ah! An eye for keen workmanship over fine raiment.

Maedhros: bBbbbBb (wriggling and kicking)

Fëanor: you desire to be borne aloft that you may inspect the proportions of the room by every angle!

(He grasps him under the arms and banks around the room a few times like a great eagle)

(Maedhros shrieks in delight)

‘Indeed I begin to think that Elves and Men should not meet or meddle.’

Túrin said nothing, but looked long in Beleg’s face, as if he would read in it the riddle of his words.

Nellas of Doriath never saw him again, and his shadow passed from her.

The Decision

"Therefore it came into the hearts of Fëanor and his sons to seize all the ships and depart suddenly; for they had retained the mastery of the fleet since the battle of the Haven, and it was manned only by those who had fought there and were bound to Fëanor. And as though it came at his call, there sprang up a wind from the north-west, and Fëanor slipped away secretly with all whom he deemed true to him, and went aboard, and put out to sea, and left Fingolfin in Araman."

“Helcaraxë” (watercolour, 2026)

oathbound