We always attribute the daddy issues to the Feanorians. In my opinion, they developed them after Feanor’s death/during the oath swearing.
Who I think is a much better canditate for father issues?
The entire House of Fingolfin!
- Fingolfin: obvious reason. Finwe comparing him to Feanor, Indis’s complicated relationship with Feanor&Miriel, contributes to most problems he tries to solve
-Fingon: friends with Maedhros but gets comments from his father to behave in public because Fingolfin needs to uphold a certain image. Fingolfin can’t have his children making a ruckus like the Sons of Feanor. pressure of being the oldest son and then becoming the fucking heir to HighKingship in Beleriand to distant (suicidal?) father
- Turgon: picks up on his father’s comments and tries his best to fulfill them. maybe has to kill a few passions for it. but at least he’s a good son, unlike Fingon who is so much more popular than him
- Aredhel: a princess who probably has to fight for her rights. wants to go hunting, spend her days outdoors and be as good as her cousins. potential material for fighting between Anaire and Fingolfin: one who disapproves and one who wants his child happy but isn’t entirely supportive either
- Argon: gets forgotten, like ... alot? canditate for sibling rivalry, stark contrast to the Feanorian family where the brothers seem to get along fine. is turned into a martyr after his death
See? Much more material than seven brothers who fight but are ultimately very loyal to each other.I’m sure there are more issues to be found among the Nolofinweans but that’s just why I came up without doing further research
Turgon: What?!? [takes off jacket] I fucking told you to bring more layers, but of course you didn't listen and now [piles scarf on Aredhel] I fucking have to make sure you don't fucking FREEZE to dead, but you're allergic to shirts, so what did I expect and [take someone else's hat and plops it on Aredhel's head] how fucking long have you been cold? You should have said something sooner.
Fingon's problem. My friend idea! ♥️♥️ Fingon ma problem. A mianowicie jak pocałować przyjaciela w policzek skoro ten jest o głowę wyższy. Zdaje się, że Mae jako jedyny na tle całej grupki ma jakiś sensowny pomysł bez rozlewu krwi. Xd Dwie wersje
Ardhel is probably my favourite female character in the entire Silmarillion. Even if it didn't end well for her. She was a brave woman, in a world ruled by her male relatives.
But her greatest act was dying for her son, no matter the shady circumstances of his conception.
Discussions lead to contemplations, and contemplations to action.
---
The room still echoed with Maeglin's unspoken rage five minutes after he had gone. Ardhel, seated by the fire with her embroidery hoop, watched her husband sigh deeply and drop bonelessly into a chair. She stood and left her work, moving around behind him. She put her hands on his shoulders.
"He is not like me, Ardhel."
Ardhel's brow furrowed. This was not normally how he spoke to her after an argument with their son. "How is he not like you, Eol?" she asked gently.
"He is not content to wander and learn, to be an elf and free. I am a blacksmith, Ardhel, and Mahal curse it I've fathered a prince with no kingdom."
Ardhel was quiet, lips pressed together in a thin line. One of Eol's hands came up to encircle hers. "You speak to him of Gondolin."
Of course Eol would have heard from his strange servants, or even with his own keen ears. "They are only tales, my husband."
"Are they?" he turned to her and the light caught his eyes, lighting them up their strange, brilliant blue-green. "They are not the words of a loremistress, Ardhel, but the yearnings of a tired heart."
Ardhel was startled and withdrew, though Eol kept hold of her hand. "I did not mean-"
"Tell me now, wife, and truthfully, that if you did not fear my anger, whether you would leave and seek again your brother and his kingdom."
Ardhel's lips parted in a soft 'oh'. She wished to draw her eyes from Eol and knew that she couldn't; he would not let her, not until she answered.
"Yes." she said at last, words nearly eaten by the cracking fire. "Yes, I would."
He let go of her hand, stood, and left. Ardhel knew that he would not return to their bed that night but would spend time in his workshop. She sat back down once the door had closed softly and gazed at the fire, tears fine diamonds on her cheeks.
---
For two months, Eol rarely saw either wife or son. He was working, or tending to his marches, or straightening out a trade route. Indeed Ardhel saw him more and more with the dwarves who visited their stronghold and she was not sure what to think of it. Even Drakmir, her husband's faithful steward and often privy to his thoughts, knew not what was going on.
When Eol left to visit the dwarves he was gone far longer than normal, and though Maeglin tried to persaude his mother that then was the time she remained, unsure.
It was two years to the day, and Maeglin out hunting with a few of the servants, that Eol came again into their shared living chamber, carrying something wrapped in oil cloth, another leather wrapped item, and a scroll.
"I found it." he said. "Buried in the very last bloody store room, I might have known."
Ardhel stood by the fireplace, unsure. "Husband?" she asked.
"Help me," he implored her, and so Ardhel took hold of one end of the oilcloth bundle and after the other two were set down aided him in unwrapping the package. Once the work was done she stared in quiet awe; it was her bow, and her quiver, both of which had been taken when at last the borders of Nan Elmoth were deemed safe enough from orcs.
"Eol?" she whispered.
"Can't very well cross half of Beleriand with no weapons." Eol said. "Between the orcs and your cousins, strolling through Angband might be safer." He laid out the scroll and it was a map, freshly brought from Doriath. "I've thought of four paths, but perhaps there are more; you will need to jog my memory, wife. If we must visit your cousins I ask you mercifully keep it brief."
Ardhel was staring now, convinced her husband was taken by some madness. "My Lord-"
"OH yes." Eol looked to the last package and lifted it up. He looked at it with a sort of sorrowful fondness. "It's my own failing, I suppose, that our son sees you as his Lady Mother and not as I saw you the day you entered my forest. After all, our borders are safe; I don't tolerate orcs, or trolls, or wargs. Still, I should have crafted this for you years ago. I apologize, Ardhel, that I have been so lax in my duties."
He knelt and held it out for her. "Take it."
Ardhel worked her jaw, looking at her husband. His face showed her nothing but honesty, and a nervous anticipation. His eyes did not catch hers; he was telling no lies. She moved forward and took the item, unwrapping it. In spite of herself she gasped.
It was a sword. Its crossguard was made of silver wings, its pommel the bright sun halved with a moon. The handle was of ivory horn, inlaid with pale gold. When she withdrew the blade it was bone white and glinted with runes that seemed to skitter away when she tried to read them.
"Celebang." Eol said quietly. "Sister blade to Anguirel. I would have you wield it in protection, my wife, as we seek your brother's hidden way."
Ardhel allowed the blade to slide back into its sheathe and, dazed, laid it on the table. We? He had said we.
"...you wish to go with us?"
Eol stood and put his hands on her shoulders. "For years you have dwelt here with me, Ardhel," he said, "content to obey my commands, to mother my son, to be hostess and lady of this dark fortress. You have done all of this for me. It would be shameful for me to do any less for you."
"But the sun," Ardhel heard herself protesting, "the sun in Gondolin is so bright.."
"I will wear my hood, and mask, and be thought of as strange but then that is nothing new." Eol assured her.
"By my brother's decree one who enters Gondolin must stay or choose death!" Ardhel said. "I am his sister and so I left, but Eol-" she cut herself off. Eol, her husband, who wandered for miles without direction or true intent, would be trapped within Gondolin, with its high white walls and soaring pennants.
"I have said my goodbyes to my brothers in the mountains." Eol said firmly. "They have agreed to trade routes that will benefit Doriath. I have sent missives to Thingol, telling him I seek my wife's family; whether I return or not is no concern of his. Drakmir will keep watch here, and will become Lord once I am gone. He is capable."
"You would leave the naugrim?" Ardhel asked.
"They value family more than gold." Eol replied. "and I have been blind for too long."
it was all too much. Ardhel felt her legs give out and Eol went down with her until husband and wife were sitting, she in his lap, facing the fire.
"Why?" she asked again.
"Maeglin is unhappy." Eol said. "He believes he is meant for great things. I cannot give him great things. Gondolin can. You miss your brother. In truth to hear you speak of it, it sounds beautiful. There is much I can learn from your kin, loathe though I might be."
This was happening. It really was happening.
"We will need to prepare provisions." Ardhel said absently. "Maeglin must be informed."
"I give you that task," Eol said wryly. "for if I try to tell him, there's sure to be a fight."
Ardhel chuckled and realized she was crying. "They will not believe it. The court of Gondolin, I mean."
"My dear wife, by the time we are fully settled and our son has earned his place I assure you, I will set all of Gondolin on its very pointy ears."
Ardhel could do nothing but laugh. That was the irreverant, no-frills elf she had fallen in love with- the Eol who was mostly dwarf. "Yes, my husband," she managed through her chuckles, "yes, you will."
