Day 4: Maglor, the Mighty Singer
“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.”
I started painting Maedhros and Maglor last night, inspired by the last kin slaying and the last attempt the two of them did together to get the Silmaril. That part really disappointed me, as I always saw the two of them as being better than their brothers and father, and I always forget about that last battle they initiate, so I felt compelled to draw them how I see them in that scene, most likely from the view of Elrond and Elros.
Still unfinished, but I hope to finish it soon, as it’s not the biggest drawing I’ve made in a while! 😊 let me know what you think! 😘
The Silmarillion aesthetic | The First House of The Noldor |
Maglor
Between the arms of Gelion was the ward of Maglor, and here in one place
the hills failed altogether: there it was that the Orcs came into East
Beleriand before the Third Battle. Therefore the Noldor held strength of
cavalry In the plains at that place; and the people of Caranthir fortified the
mountains to the east of Maglor’s Gap.
feanorianweek → maglor the mighty singer
…and he who harps upon the far
forgotten beaches and dark shores
where western foam for ever roars MAGLOR whose voice is like the sea …
Alternate Orpheus Ending for First Age Maglor:
Maglor throws the Silmaril into the sea, and the Oarni catch it. Having their attention, he kneels and carefully arranges himself to sing, his fingers burnt, his knees in the surf as he plays the Noldolantë, so harshly and full of grief that the spirits who hear him must cover their ears. Thrashing the water, they wail in pain and fury–“swan-killer, sail-bloodier, ship-burner”, they hiss as he finishes his terrible lament, and he offers no resistance when they tear into him like sharks in frenzy, and drag him into the sea. He does not flinch, he does not even cry out. When Beleriand’s rivers run backwards with mud and seawater, it will be said his floating head and lyre continue to sing their wild elegies until the continent itself sinks beneath the waves.
eehn:
“Neither law, nor love, nor league of swords,Dread nor danger, not Doom itself Shall defend him from Fëanáro, and Fëanáro’s kin.”
The seven sons of Fëanor were Maedhros the tall; Maglor the mighty
singer, whose voice was heard far over land and sea; Celegorm the fair,
and Caranthir the dark; Curufin the crafty, who inherited most his
father’s skill of hand; and the youngest Amrod and Amras, who were twin
brothers, alike in mood and face.elfweek // day 07. anything you want: the seven sons of fëanor
Modern M a g l o r
Once we were g l o r i o u s,
Though, none will remember it.
Our names are limned by s o r r o w,
Carved of hatred and grief.
It’s been too long since Maglor last came to visit, but Elrond will scold him later. For now he’s just glad Maglor is back.
Raising Cain 2: Electric Boogaloo 