Villain

Canon-compliant AU.  The night before the Second Kinslaying.  Let's see... Maglor has two kids (mentioned previously in "Pauses").  This is not canon.  But I did it anyway, because I can.  One of them is a canon character, one of them is not.  Quenya names used (Maglor = Makalaurë, Kanafinwë or Káno, Fingon = Findekáno, Maedhros = Maitimo or Nelyo, Celebrimbor = Telperinquar).  Takes place in the First Age (Year 506 FA).  Mostly introspective with some dialogue.

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns the canon-characters and most of the plot.  My OMC is mine (and currently nameless LOL).

Pairings: none

Characters: Maglor, Maedhros, OMC (nameless), (mentions of Maglor's children, Fingon, Manwë, Varda, Fëanorions and Ilúvatar)

Warning: canon-compliant AU, OMC, random children, mentions of murder, premeditated homicide, PTSD, nihilism, insanity and angst

Song: Falling Inside the Black

Words: 1,166
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villain (noun): a deliberate scoundrel or criminal; a character in a story or play who opposes the hero; one blamed for a particular evil or difficulty
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/villain

As he looked out into the dark, moonless night from within cold stone walls, Makalaurë wondered when he had lost faith in their cause, lost faith in their justice.  He wondered if his faith had ever really existed at all, or if it had all been a lie that kept him going day after day, kept him from completely losing his sanity.  Until now.

For he knew that he had lost his faith.  Every night weighed heavier and heavier on his mind, a stain that wouldn't go away, could not be washed from his soul.  Just thinking about it left his belly roiling in disgust and hatred, not of those who stood in his way, but of himself.

Were they not supposed to be fighting for what was right?  Were they not supposed to protect and support their kin against the darkness, not add to their suffering?

Did they not even have a choice?

Of course, in the end, it was never about what was right--had never been about what was right.  It had been about pride and revenge, and nothing else.  They were damned for empty vengeance and greed.  As he leaned against the wall, head pressed to unforgiving stone, Makalaurë knew this to be so with every fiber of his being, every ounce of his soul.

Tomorrow they would march on Menegroth.

It made him sick.

There would be more blood of the innocent staining his hands, more upon the hands of his brothers, upon the hands of his child.  So young, and yet Eressetoron remained faithful in their cause, believed in his father and uncles with a naivety that made Makalaurë's heart swell and pound heavily in his throat with guilt.  The boy had been too young to take part in the slaying at Alqualondë, too young to even remember much but screaming and fire and chaos.

His other child... He could hardly bear to think on it.  Like Telperinquar, his firstborn would not share in the shame of their family, would not hold kin with traitors and murderers.

"You make me sick.  I can hardly bear to look upon you and call you 'Atar'!"

As much as it pained him, it also relieved him in a strange sort of way, brought him peace of mind.  Far away, safely tucked in the Havens, his son would sleep peacefully this night, would not revel in the death of kin and the spilling of their precious blood.

"You cannot sleep."

Interrupted, Makalaurë spun around in surprise, only to come face-to-face with his older brother.  Maitimo looked even worse than he felt, eyes darkened with bruised fatigue, mouth set in a pale line across his stone-cold features.  Neither of them had been sleeping well for a very long time, but whereas Makalaurë was wracked with guilt, Maitimo was plagued by nightmares.  The younger brother well remembered the screams that graced these halls.  No one spoke of it.

"Do we really have to do this, Nelyo?" he asked after a few moments of staring and silence. "This is madness!  It was never meant to be this way!"

No sympathy stared back at him, and he had expected none.  As the years faded, and most especially after Findekáno died, Maitimo had changed.  The righteous spirit had drained away, as if a little more of it leaked out with every tear their people shed.  Tears Unnumbered.  What was left comprised only suffering and revenge, the relentless need to fulfill their Oath.  The insanity that plagued their line.

"We swore, Káno.  We swore to Ilúvatar with the Manwë and Varda as our witnesses that we would have what is rightfully ours, and that none would stand in our way.  None."

It was empty.  Makalaurë knew well that, when all was said and done, they would have perhaps three glorious shining jewels.  And then what?  No one would own kin with them.  The Silmarilli would bring back neither the lives they took nor their family lost.  They were just pretty rocks.  Trinkets.

"Please, Nelyo, there has to be another way," he pleaded softly, desperately. "Is there not something else we can do?  Some other path we can take?"

"There is not." Maitimo turned away and looked out into the night beyond the window. "We have requested that they return what is ours, and they have refused.  I warned them what would happen if they resisted us, brother, promised them blood if they withheld our birthright.  I do not renege on my promises."

Darkened silver, sharper than steel, stabbed deep into Makalaurë's soul. "And neither should you," Maitimo added in a rumbling voice, edged in poison, lip curling upwards in disdain. "Remember that well, Kanafinwë."

Fear burst through him all at once, fear for his life and the lives of his family, fear for his brother's sanity.  At the moment, Maitimo looked as though he would slit all of their throats if it meant reclaiming what was lost and taking revenge upon the "enemy".  Blood running cold with horror, Makalaurë struggled to keep his knees firmly beneath him, but his legs felt like jelly.  He leaned against the wall again, trying not to show weakness, not to tremble.

"Nelyo...?"

The shadow passed, but the memory of it lingered.  The leering snarl that twisted those beloved features for a heartbeat vanished back into nihilism. "Get some sleep, brother.  We have a long day ahead of us."

And then he was alone again.  With a choked sound that Makalaurë absolutely refused to admit was a sob, he slid down the wall into a pathetic puddle of quivering muscle and drained spirit.

What they were doing was as far from right as wrong could be.  They were neither righteous nor honorable.  They were traitors and murderers, Kinslayers.  The day after next, the red sun would rise over Doriath for the entire world to see, and countless would lie dead and rotting in hallowed, beautiful halls, murdered over sins they had no part in.

Would his brothers be among them?  His son?

Blankly, he stared at the opposite wall of the dark room until dawn began to peek just over the horizon, damning light, revealing to all the world the taint of his house, once and for all.

And Makalaurë could only wonder who the true villain in this tale was.  Because every day the line between good and evil grew fuzzier, the reality grayer and more cracked.

"I am so sorry," he whispered, wondering to himself who he was talking to.  Himself or his son or his brothers or his kin or all the men and women and children who would lose their lives before the setting of the sun this day?  Perhaps he spoke to all of them at once.

For there was no justice to be had here.  Only blood and shadow.  Only darkness and sin.
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Can you believe that this prompt could have turned out fluffy?  I had this awesome parenting scenario in mind involving Maedhros, a certain pair of twins and a very amused Maglor.  But no.  This happened.  I blame chemistry tutoring at 6:30 at night.

I actually was listening to Skillet today.  Maybe that's part of the problem, ne?  Falling Inside the Black is not really a fluffy song (but I still love it so much).

Sorry if you hate crazy!Maedhros, but I honestly don't think any of them were in their right mind right before attacking Doriath.  I certainly wouldn't be.  This actually ties in rather nicely with a ficlet I have on dA called "Insanity" which takes place during the Second Kinslaying (and focuses on Maedhros' state of mind during and after the attack).  At least, I think it's on dA.  I know for certain it's on fanfiction.

Anyway, so yeah.  And I didn't name Maglor's other kid, because I'm lazy and don't want to think of a name right now, but the other name is similar enough to the Sindarin translation that it should be obvious to whom it refers if you've read the Fellowship of the Ring.

Nelyafinwe by ~kittykatkanie on dA.  Because.