Oh my god the way this episode reframed everything about her motivation.
She didn't want her sister to leave her and her attachment to Osha is definitely unhealthy, sure. But she didn't mean to hurt her. Mother Koriil agitated her rage, which led her to start a fire ACCIDENTALLY. BECAUSE SHE WAS A CHILD.
She saw her mother be struck dead by a Jedi when all she was doing was trying to go and save Osha. Then the same Jedi leaves her to die. MAY I REMIND YOU SHE WAS JUST A KID? AND HER WHOLE FAMILY WAS GONE AS FAR AS SHE WAS AWARE?
So yeah, she's out on a revenge quest. Because if it's all the Jedi's fault, then it isn't hers.
Can you do feanors reaction of seeing all these smith artwork of his son and causin? I bet he wouldn't be happy seeing all this smut. Especially seeing meadhros being a bottom in bed.
Elrond and Elros are insatiably curious, and Maedhros isn’t quite certain how to respond.
--
“Uncle Maedhros?”
Maedhros still started a little every time one of their hostages addressed him in such...familial terms. It was nearly as odd to hear Maglor called “Father,” though he had to admit, his younger brother had put in a fair amount of effort over the last two years to become worthy of the title.
Maglor had always had a knack with children.
Affecting his least intimidating smile—the one that didn’t show the missing teeth on the left side of his mouth—he turned to the small dark-haired boys hovering near the table. “Yes, boys?”
“We were wondering,” said one of them...Elros, Maedhros thought it was, he was usually the one to speak up first. “Why haven’t you got a right hand?”
“You don’t have to tell us,” Elrond put in quickly. “If it’s a secret. We were just curious.”
Maedhros hesitated, glancing back and forth between the boys. Elrond and Elros were nearly eight now, and considerably larger and more mature than he and his brothers had been at that age, but they were children nonetheless, and he had no desire to give them any more nightmares.
“Well, you see, I was...stuck,” he said at last. “And my friend came to rescue me, but unfortunately the only way to get me un-stuck was for him to...ahem. Remove my hand.”
Elros grimaced, but Elrond looked only curious. “Why were you stuck?” he asked.
“That’s a very long story,” said Maedhros, shaking his head. “You won’t want to hear it.”
“But I do want to hear it. Please?”
Maedhros sighed. “If you insist. I was trapped because I had been chained to a mountainside by Morgoth.”
“Why?”
Varda’s stars, were all children this curious? He supposed his brothers must have been at some point, though of course that was millennia ago. “Why did he chain me to the mountainside? To teach me a lesson, I suppose. To show my family that we had no hope of defeating him, and we should go home. Of course, it really was my fault, for falling into his trap.”
“Why?” asked Elros with a grin, clearly getting into the spirit of the thing. It was all Maedhros could do not to roll his eyes.
“Because he told us he would be willing to make a deal with us to give our Silmarils back, and that was what we needed more than anything.”
“Why did you need to get them back?”
“Because we swore an oath,” Maedhros said, doing his best to keep his voice level. “Do you know what that is? It’s like a promise. A promise you can never, ever break. That is what we made.”
At his tone, Elros took a step backwards, clearly intimidated. Elrond, however, was not quite done asking questions. “Why?”
Why indeed? Few questions had been on Maedhros’ mind lately more than that one. Why, exactly, had his family chosen to abandon their home to pursue a quest that, as time went on, seemed increasingly impossible? The only answer he could think to give the twins--”because we had to”--couldn’t possibly be enough.
He opened his mouth, entirely unsure what he was going to say, but was thankfully interrupted by a low, musical voice from the doorway.
“Because we loved our father, and wanted to help him,” Maglor said, in the gentle tone he always used when speaking to the twins. “Just like we love you. I hope though, when you grow up, you will make better choices than we did.”
Maedhros felt a sharp twinge of jealousy in his stomach as the little boys hurried to Maglor, hugging him tightly and burying their faces in his side. “You won’t go off and get trapped on a mountain, will you, Father?” Elros asked, his voice muffled by Maglor’s tunic. “Not like Uncle Maedhros?”
“Of course not, my loves. But it’s high time you two were in bed. Thank your uncle for talking to you, and then go upstairs and put on your nightshirts.”
Obediently, the children shuffled back over to Maedhros, both giving him a tentative hug (and Maedhros had to force himself not to shrink back). “Thank you for answering our questions, Uncle Maedhros,” said Elrond solemnly. “We’re sorry about your hand.”
“But we’re glad your friend rescued you,” said Elros. “Good night!”
“It’s extraordinary,” said Maedhros, once the children were out of earshot. “They really have grown to love you. Quite a feat on your part, considering the circumstances.”
“Children have an extraordinary capacity for love,” Maglor replied, with a fond smile. “I doubt my own efforts had much to do with it. But they love you too, you know.”
Maedhros snorted. “They tolerate me for your sake at best, and fear me at worst.”
“That is entirely untrue, and you know it. Those boys care about you, and will continue to do so if you don’t push them away.” Maglor put a gentle hand on Maedhros’ shoulder. “I know how hard it is to bring yourself to care, after all the family we have lost. But however odd the circumstances may be, this is our family now. Don’t lock us out, Maedhros.”
Without waiting for an answer, he patted Maedhros’ shoulder and left the room, no doubt to sing the twins to sleep with one of the lullabies he’d written for Amrod and Amras. Leaving Maedhros to stare at the flickering candle on the table, and think.
