Golden Voice

Canafinwë Macalaurë, second son of Fëanor, the golden-voiced, doomed prince of the Ñoldor, wanderer of the shores of middle earth.

[g-m-kaye]

Makalaurë

[fatalism-and-villainy]

Maglor’s Final Words

Since I haven’t babbled about Maglor in a while, let’s do that by playing another game of “explaining why certain quotes stand out to me”!

Yet Maglor still held back, saying: ‘If Manwë and Varda themselves deny the fulfillment of an oath to which we named them in witness, is it not made void?’ And Maedhros answered: ‘But how shall our voices reach to Ilúvatar beyond the Circles of the World? And by Ilúvatar we swore in our madness, and called the Everlasting Darkness upon us, if we kept not our word. Who shall release us? “If none can release us,” said Maglor, “then indeed the Everlasting Darkness shall be our lot, whether we keep our oath or break it; but less evil shall we do in the breaking. 

This exchange right here is pretty well-known among Silm fans - I see it quoted on quite a few Maglor edits that I encounter. It’s strongly associated with his character. My problem, however, is that’s it’s rather inconsistent with how I see Maglor, at least in the beginning. I think that instead of speaking for Maglor’s moral virtue, it is demonstrative of the development that Maglor’s character goes through.

(Just a note that I am borrowing a low of ideas from lintamande here, so I might as well give credit where credit is due and link to this post, which has heavily influenced how I think about Maglor.)

Read More

[mauveshadow]

Maglor

[mauveshadow]

I’ve seen DA:I tarot cards inspired art in the silm tag lately and decided to join the fun 8D (more to follow probably)

[keynilla]

Some cute Maglor/Lúthien fan art maybe??????? :3

CONGRATULATIONS. YOU LITERALLY PAIRED THE ONLY TWO cHARACTERS WHO HAVE BLACK HAIR AND RED EYES IN MY HEADCANON

[lintamande]

and one man, in his time, plays many parts

(act i. act ii. act iii.)

The light came back.

Despite themselves his people cheered it. There was another dance, this one impromptu and occurring with Maglor’s approval or participation, because he was busy with Curufin and Caranthir planning a year-long series of agricultural experiments that could determine what could grow under the new light, what could grow in well-designed greenhouses if mirrors were used. They had a plan sketched out by the third time the light rose in the sky.

Then they built focusing lenses several meters across and set them carefully atop buildings with improvised retractable roofs and began work on creating the glowing Ñoldorin lampstones that his father had developed so many centuries ago. They were ornamental pieces in every home and office and workshop in Aman, but their original creator and his family had none; Morgoth had taken them. 

The city was singing. Its songs were shaped nothing like Tirion; the roads were uneven and imperfectly planned, the walls were not ceremonial and were densely guarded, and nothing glittered. To realize that it was a Ñoldorin city, Maglor thought, you had to listen carefully, you had to look close enough to see how defiantly inventive the crumbling, incompetent buildings were, and how they improved with each year’s new understanding. The city was poorly-planned and clumsily-built and falling apart, but there was more to sing of it, in a way, than of Tirion.

Read More

[lintamande]

and one man, in his time, plays many parts

(act i. act ii.)

iii.

Huan woke him.

Huan was howling.Howling like he had for the Trees, and for two brothers and three successive Kings, howling like Oromë’d given him oversized lungs specifically so in this moment he could rouse the whole of western Endorë.

Long ago, when still a child, Maglor had perfected the art of rolling over onto his nose to squeeze out a few more precious moments of sleep, while braiding his hair so he could legitimately claim he was getting started on the day.

Those memories hurt to even touch; they were sharp in unexpected places.

He dressed in seconds. His hands were shaking. He tapped out a rhythm on the dresser, and that calmed them. It didn’t make any sense to think ‘who is it going to be’, none of them were out, none of them were in any danger –

- and then he stepped outside, and everything made sense.

Read More

[lintamande]

and one man, in his time, plays many parts

ii. 

They’d rebuilt the conference room a little larger, with a roof of baked clay tiles. That had required a repurposing of the forges that horrified every metalworker in the settlement and would take far, far too long to do for every one of Maglor’s subjects. The water-damaged tapestries had been tucked carefully away in a chest; they were currently irrecoverable, but the future might bring better news. Some of the undamaged tapestries had grown mold and mildew while tucked in their chests, and were similarly irrecoverable. Decay, Maglor thought, was Moringotto’s cruelest invention.

Read More

[lintamande]

and one man, in his time, plays many parts

(Lake Mithrim, in five acts. Maglor-centric.)

It was raining.

 It had been raining for ten days. 

The passage of time was announced by a bell in the townsquare, such as it was, which Maglor sent Celegorm to ring twice every day when the stars were in the same place.

The stars hadn’t been visible, because it was raining, and he’d sent Celegorm when he felt like it, when he woke and when he tired, and he was thinking that perhaps it would be good for morale to make the days a little longer, so the storm didn’t seem to drag on.

This was not an urgent question, and should not have occupied more than a second of thought. But the urgent questions were too urgent, screaming for his attention and clawing at his spine and hurting to think about, so he occupied himself with the trivial ones. If he just got it right, rang the bells at the right time and built something beautiful, the urgent questions might slink away defeated. Or someone else might deal with them. Maglor did not particularly care. 

Read More

[contemporaryelfinchild]

ayia, nevuvan ná i tyaro an Maglor Kanafinwë Makalaurë ar liruvan Noldolantë ló immo

[lloowwooii]

[adunada]

|| Okay, I can't remember if I asked you about Faramir casually meeting Maglor, but if so then how about something about him in Osgiliath?

|| Luckily I haven't written about Maglor, or at least never finished, because all that come to mind for Osgiliath looks like it'd require me to study architecture first.

  He crouched to dip his hands into the foam that was swept onto the sand and stone. In the little moon and star light it was almost silver white against the great, dark sea behind it, but not to watch the water had Faramir come there at a late hour, perhaps challenging his uncle’s goodwill — for, though no longer a child, he was a youth enough that any caretaker should be little pleased to find him out on his own in the night. The fishermen’s talk, earlier in the day, had compelled him to go, speaking of the lone wanderer returning, once more, to the shores of Dol Amroth; he, who never would go far from the seaside into the land, and spoke little with whoever crossed his well-trodden path, if at all, and if he would say anything more often he would do it singing rather than speaking — for that they named him the bard, a singer by the sea, although his songs were few and their words unmemorable, in an olden tongue.

Read More

[sleepymarmot]

What if Maglor really stays in Middle-earth forever.

The last of the immortals left on the surface of Arda, he has faded, only a wandering spirit now.

Then the last battle comes, and all of creation is destroyed, but he waits in vain for a new perfect world to replace it.

He’s all alone in the void.

He starts to sing.

[soraniizu]

Maglor at the end of the first age.

Lyrics from “end of all hope” by nightwish

Request from DA

I don’t upload a lot of things these days, i’m kinda depressed … #amazing life lol

[absynthe--minded]

Okay so I’ve been talking about this idea for a while but I want to bring it up to the Silm fandom at large.

"Lindir" means Singer (technically "song-man", drawn from "lind" in Sindarin and "lindë" in Quenya). Fanon has him acting as a minstrel due to this; I don’t think that’s impossible.

We know that music and its performance and composition are often inherently magical in Arda. We also know that elven magic can conceal identities and alter appearances and perceptions. But what does this have to do with anything?

Well, who do we know who’s 1) canonically good at singing/music 2) has an interest in Elrond and Imladris and 3) would want to be in disguise around most others?

That’s right.

I’m willing to bet that “Lindir” is only a pseudonym, and that were we to break through the disguise, we’d find Maglor.

[melkomelko]

so, we’ve been talking about Maglor, well then here he is

also we started wondering what pairings is he in, and did a little research, turns out it’s mostly Finrod. well that makes kind of sense, since they both are quite forever alone

drawing pairings i don’t really believe in, because it’s fun and challenging (i hope i’m not breaking any rule of the Internet)

[ultraviolet-eucatastrophe]

Imagine all the stories that grow up surrounding Maglor as this mysterious unknown wanderer on the shore though. Especially if you’re headcanoning that he survives beyond the fourth age, when all the elves with their long memories have gone from Middle Earth.

The stories would probably go in cycles of a few generations, being constantly embroidered and retold and translated and lost. But through different cultures and different languages, there would be a common thread, the lonely wanderer singing with the voice of the sea. Sometimes they speak of the scars on his hands, but not always. They know - they’re not sure how, but all the stories seem to agree - that there’s something he did in his past, something he regrets.

And sometimes he would be talked of as a spirit or a minor deity, (at one point people leave him offerings, thinking him an ocean spirit that must be appeased) sometimes just a man. Sometimes he would be a benevolent figure, sometimes a monster that parents tell their children will come for them if they don’t behave. Superstitions come and go like the tides, but through all of it he remains somewhere embedded in culture and history and myth.

[snuskens-deactivated20161002]

"And it is told of Maglor that he could not endure the pain with which the Silmaril tormented him; and he cast it at last into the Sea, and thereafter he wandered ever upon the shores, singing in pain and regret beside the waves." [JRR Tolkien, The Silmarillion - Of The Voyage Of Earendil]