arofili:elves of arda ✷ house of finwë ✷ headcanon disclaimer
arofili:elves of arda ✷ house of finwë ✷ headcanon disclaimer Kánafinwë Makalaurë was the second son of Fëanáro Curufinwë and Nerdanel Istarnië. He was born in Tirion only months before his half-uncle Ñolofinwë’s first child, for when Ñolofinwë had mentioned he and his wife Lady Anairë were considering having a child of their own, Fëanáro was seized with eagerness to have a second child of his own. Ñolofinwë also mused that if his child was a boy, he might name him in the pattern established by his father and continued by his brother, giving the lad a -finwë name and perhaps incorporating the element káno from his own amilessë, resulting in something like Kánafinwë, and Fëanáro found he liked the name as well. When their second son was born, Nerdanel named him Makalaurë, and his voice was so strong and beautiful even as a babe that Fëanáro was delighted to name him Kánafinwë for the might of his musical potential—and for the pleasure he took in spiting Ñolofinwë’s plans. Chagrined, Ñolofinwë was forced to choose another name for his eldest, who came to be known as Findekáno, the elements of Kánafinwë’s name inverted and patterned after the name his father received from Indis, Arakáno. Yet despite their fathers’ quarrel, Kánafinwë, his elder brother Nelyafinwë, and Findekáno were dear friends, delighting in one another’s company and the affection of their shared grandfather, High King Finwë. Makalaurë was a musical prodigy from a young age, singing in harmony with the world around him and eagerly applying himself to lessons in music theory. He made his public debut as a singer at the tender age of five, singing to his family and the court of Tirion at the celebration of his younger brother Tyelkormo’s birth. He was greatly admired for his talents, and his half-aunt Findis connected him with her friend Elemmírë, a renowned Vanyarin minstrel who offered to tutor him. Though his father Fëanáro was at first reluctant to allow a Vanya teach his son, Makalaurë’s enthusiasm won him over, and he agreed upon the condition that Elemmírë move to Tirion to teach him. Thus Makalaurë learned from a master in his craft, and by age fifty he was declared a master himself. He toured all around Valinor with Elemmírë, and when visiting her family in Valmar he met her niece Elenwë and was briefly infatuated with her. Though Elenwë had no romantic interest in Makalaurë, the two became friends, and in time she would marry his half-cousin Turukáno. Swiftly rising to great fame among the Vanyar and the Noldor for his musical prowess, Makalaurë turned his focus from vocal performance to learning various instruments. His favorite was the harp, of which he gained mastery at the age of one hundred, but he was proficient in every instrument in Aman and even invented a few of his own, though unlike his father his passion was never in creating new and wonderful things, but rather in expressing the beauty of the world around him. He performed frequently, basking in the praise heaped upon him, and became rather vain and overconfident. Makalaurë pursued a few flirtations with fellow musicians, but none lasted very long, for their intimidation and his pride left little room for equal dialogue, and in truth he did not mind the failure of his relationships, for they provided him with emotional material with which to write new songs. This changed when he encountered a poem dedicated to none other than himself by an author who signed her name as only Tecnyarindë, “the writer.” The description of his music in such concise words deeply moved him, and he found himself humbled by the skill of the poet. Makalaurë sought out this mysterious poet, and when he met her, he was immediately smitten by her charm and the beauty of her deep green eyes, for which she was named Ezellë. They swiftly became friends, then sweethearts, and in no time at all they were betrothed, for their talents complemented one another and Makalaurë found he could always rely on her to be honest and constructive with him creatively. He was the first of Finwë’s grandchildren to marry, and thus his wedding was a spectacular affair. Though there was some strife between his father and Ezellë’s mother, the ceremony was beautiful, and Ezellë was adored by her husband’s family and welcomed gladly into the House of Fëanáro. Ezellë and Makalaurë had a happy marriage in the Days of Bliss, collaborating together on many stunning compositions. But Ezellë never wished for offspring of her own, and so they remained childless, to Makalaurë’s quiet sorrow. Still, he loved his wife dearly and never asked more of her than she was willing to give, and thus they were glad together. When the Noldor were stirred to unrest and Fëanáro drew a sword against his brother Ñolofinwë, Makalaurë stood firmly by his father’s side, following him to exile in Formenos along with all his brothers. Ezellë did not accompany him, but they remained on good terms and corresponded frequently. She spent much of her time in Tirion writing in support of Fëanáro, building his following in his absence and ensuring that he was not forgotten in his exile, and on occasion Makalaurë would even sneak away to Tirion with Maitimo his brother so that they both might visit the spouses from which they were sundered. When the Darkening fell upon Valinórë, Makalaurë was deeply shaken by the murder of his grandfather Finwë by the Dark Vala Moringotto, and caught up in the fury of his father at all that had been taken from him. Fëanáro was greatly changed in his grief and anger: his pride and suspicion had transformed into a wild madness that gripped him and all to whom he spoke, and rallying the Noldor around him he declared his intention to forsake Aman and return to Endórë, chasing after Moringotto to avenge Finwë and reclaim the Silmarils. There was much disagreement among the Noldor of whether to follow Fëanáro as their new King, and of those speaking against him in dismay, Ezellë was one of the strongest voices, for she had realized—too late—that she was in part responsible for the discontent of her people. Makalaurë confronted her, but Ezellë would not take back her harsh words and spurned her husband, refusing to follow him to Endórë, much to his desperate sorrow. But he had little time to mourn the breaking of his marriage, for then Fëanáro swore a terrible Oath. His seven sons, Makalaurë among them, leapt straightway to his side and took the selfsame vow together, and red as blood shone their drawn swords in the glare of the torches. They swore an Oath which none shall break, and none should take, by the name even of Ilúvatar, calling the Everlasting Dark upon them if they kept it not; and Manwë they named in witness, and Varda, and the hallowed mountain of Taniquetil, vowing to pursue with vengeance and hatred to the ends of the World any Vala, Demon, Elf or Man as yet unborn, or any creature, great or small, good or evil, that time should bring forth unto the end of days, whoso should hold or take or keep a Silmaril from their possession. Waiting no longer, Fëanáro leapt forth and led his people from their homes in Tirion, hastening to the eastern shores of Aman and the port of Alqualondë where the Teleri dwelt. There he demanded the use of their precious swan-ships, and was denied; and when he could see no other option, he resolved to take them by force. Yet the Teleri resisted, and swords were drawn, and soon blood was shed upon the piers and the sands, and elf slew elf for the first time, a grievous crime that would not be forgotten. At last the Noldor prevailed when the host of Ñolofinwë arrived with fresh warriors, and the Teleri were defeated; amid this battle, Makalaurë was nearly slain himself, saved only by his servant Cúlalmion who would become his right hand in Beleriand. In the grim aftermath of the bloodshed, Makalaurë raised his voice in song and began to compose his greatest and most dreadful work, the Noldolantë, or Lament for the Noldor. Now Ezellë still held love for Makalaurë in her heart, and it had not taken much time for her mind to change and her feet to carry her swiftly to the shores of the sea, but upon hearing her husband’s lament in the air and learning of the Kinslaying, she was so horrified that she turned back and fled to Tirion once more. She repudiated her husband’s deeds and dedicate her writing to righting her wrongs and speaking bitterly against the Fëanárions, including and especially Makalaurë. Fëanáro took the swan-ships he had killed to steal, spurning the warning of Mandos and the Doom laid upon the Noldor, and sailed across the Sundering Seas as he had sworn. Upon reaching the far shore with only his loyal followers, he betrayed the second host of the Noldor, for he did not trust his half-brother Ñolofinwë and had no intention of bringing him or his kin with him any further. Fëanáro commanded the ships to be burnt, and all of his followers cast torches upon the beautiful swan-ships of the Teleri, consigning them to fame, and Makalaurë was not innocent of this deed. Maitimo alone stood aside in shock and horror, and it would become one of Makalaurë’s deepest regrets that he had not the courage to follow his elder brother’s example, especially when it became clear that his youngest brother Umbarto was yet aboard the ships as they burnt. Maitimo and Umbarto’s twin Ambarussa managed to save him from the flames, and Makalaurë was so stricken with guilt at his part in the dooming of his little brother that he sat vigil by Umbarto’s sickbed, Singing with the healers and bringing him back from the brink of death, though his power in healing song was much diminished from his part in the Kinslaying. Soon the host of the Noldor were caught in another battle, this time with monstrous creatures of the Enemy’s creation, and Makalaurë joined his brothers in slaughtering many orcs. Though this Battle under Starlight was a resounding victory, Fëanáro was not content to bide his time and strategize on how to defeat Moringotto, and rushed to attack his stronghold of Angamando. This rash decision would cost him his life, for though his sons drove off his attackers and carried him to the shadow of the mountains, his wounds were mortal and he bade them halt. Even Umbarto, scarred and burnt from his father’s deeds, hobbled to meet his brothers as Fëanáro cursed Moringotto and demanded his sons renew their Oath. Into the hands of Nelyafinwë his eldest son he pressed a green stone he had made long ago in Valinor, passing the burden of kingship onto him the eldest of his sons, and then at last he perished, the fire of his spirit so hot that his hröa burned to ash as his fëa fled to Mandos. Maitimo was crowned king, but even in the hour of Fëanáro’s death Moringotto sent a messenger seeking parlay with the new High King. After deliberation and an attempt at finding allies, Maitimo at last decided—against his brothers’ counsel—to feign treaty with their Enemy, though he knew it would likely be his doom. He insisted all his brothers would remain behind, and passed the green stone of his birthright onto Makalaurë, marching forth to a battle from which he would not return. When a second messenger of Moringotto came to the camp of the Noldor, telling of Maitimo’s defeat and capture within the depths of Angamando, Makalaurë was forced into a leading role he had never desired and was not equipped to handle. Not trusting the Enemy to honor any promises or bargains, he refused to surrender as Moringotto demanded and thus doomed Maitimo to torment and imprisonment, a choice that would haunt him all his life for all there was, realistically, no other option. Yet Makalaurë refused to take upon himself the mantle of High King, for he insisted Maitimo yet lived. Instead he ruled as a regent, struggling to keep his brothers in line and to defend and support his father’s followers who now counted on him to lead. He ordered the defenses of their settlement to be built up and established some limited trade with the local Þindar elves—but when the Ñolofinwëan host miraculously arrived in Beleriand, having crossed the Grinding Ice, he uprooted his people to the other side of the lake, where they now would begin making a second camp. This was done, he claimed, to avoid conflict between the two hosts, but in truth he and much of his people were deeply ashamed at their betrayal of their kinsfolk, and attempted to offer them what little restitution they could in the form of ready shelter. Inevitably, Makalaurë’s conscience (and the urging of his impatient brothers) led him to reach out to Ñolofinwë, and the two hosts exchanged tidings of their separation. The rift between the Noldor was deep and seemingly impassable, even with Fëanáro dead; Makalaurë lamented the loss of Maitimo, for surely he would have known how to handle this sudden reappearance of those they had thought sundered from them forever. Upon learning of Maitimo’s capture, Findekáno his friend and secret husband disappeared, and accusations of kidnapping were soon to spread, only furthering the tension between the two hosts. Makalaurë’s brothers pressured him now more than ever to claim his place as High King, for they needed a strong leader if they were to come to blows with their kin across the lake, and when he realized that ruthless Tyelkormo would usurp him if he did not take up the crown, Makalaurë at last conceded. With much sorrow, Maitimo was declared dead, and Makalaurë’s coronation was prepared. None of Ñolofinwë’s people were invited to the ceremony, despite his claiming of kingship over all those Noldor who dwelt in Beleriand, and relations between the two hosts seemed poised to devolve into a civil war—but in that crucial moment, just before the crown was placed upon Makalaurë’s brow, his only nephew Tyelperinquar burst inside the hall crying out that Maitimo had returned! And indeed, the impossible had come true: Maitimo, bent and disfigured but nonetheless alive walked toward them with the aid of Findekáno his savior, and the Sons of Fëanáro were at last reunited. Maitimo reasserted his authority over his brothers and their host, and though they were all glad to see him living they were shocked by the great change that had come upon him, and he struggled to forgive them for their abandonment, no matter the wisdom of that choice. Makalaurë, who had always been closest to him, found himself shut out from his brother’s counsel, which he knew was deserved for his many failures as regent, but still broke his heart. When Maitimo purposed to cede the High Kingship to Ñolofinwë and reconcile the two hosts of the Noldor at long last, Makalaurë alone of his brothers supported his decision, for he knew his uncle’s strength as a leader and moreover felt he had much to repent for to both Ñolofinwë and Maitimo. Thus the crown passed from the House of Fëanáro to his hated half-brother, and Maitimo and his brothers were dispossessed, even as Mandos had foretold. Though the Noldor were reconciled under the rulership of Ñolofinwë, who now took up the name Fingolfin in the Grey-elven tongue, the two hosts yet held tension between them and Maitimo, known now as Maedhros, thought it wise to take his brothers and depart into the east of Beleriand, setting up a leaguer against Morgoth and removing them from potential conflict with their kin. Maedhros took his people and traveled east, constructing a fortress upon the Hill of Himring and gathering many brave soldiers and ex-thralls under his command. When the keep was completed, Maedhros sent his brothers to establish their own lands while he remained as Himring’s lord, watching over the plain of Ard-galen and the not-so-distant towers of Thangorodrim. Makalaurë’s chosen lands were not far from Himring: he defended the open area between mountain ranges that was known as Maglor’s Gap after his own Sindarin name, leading a force of cavalry that kept the orcs at bay so long as the Siege of Angband lasted. Twenty years after the rising of the Sun, High King Fingolfin held a mighty feast at the Wells of Ivrin, inviting all his scattered kindred and their newly-established Sindarin allies. Here Maglor met the famed minstrel Daeron of Doriath, who alone rivaled him in musical skill, and they engaged in a contest of ability that was remembered for Ages by those who were privileged enough to witness it. Charmed by Daeron’s talent and caught up in the passion of their music, Maglor invited him to collaborate on a song, but soon their time together in close quarters evolved into a passion of a different kind. Putting Ezellë behind him and embracing the Sindar’s looser customs around sexuality, Maglor took Daeron to bed, and though they would not meet again in Beleriand, the memory of those blissful nights left a deep impression upon them both. [continued under the cut] Keep reading -- source link