//Hey everyone! Just to let you all know, I am condensing all my accounts into one blog that is easier to manage. Slowly this blog will be closed down then deleted. You’ll find all of Maedhros’ things eventually over at @feanorionrage but I’m still working on it.

Please bear with me!

{Second age AU}

{For @elerondo} Ever ruminating the bitterness that had befallen him and that damned oath still plaguing his thoughts, Lord Maedhros, as he now styled himself, sat alone on the grass a little ways from the very modest home that he now shared with his only surviving brother, Lord Maglor.     Living an exiled life for fear of requital, they resided now in northern Forlondin, close to the River Gelion on what lands remained of Maglor’s Gap that had not been consumed by the sea. It was a good three days ride from the Grey Havens, well enough distance that they would not be found, as little else lay along the coastline between Ered Luin and Belegaer.     One-half of their foster children, Elros, was now a man of full stature and had become a King in his own right, choosing life as a mortal and now among his people on the Isle of Númenor. It had been some years since both Maedhros and Maglor had seen him, and though they never spoke openly, they both missed him dearly. Elrond, on the other hand, had chosen to remain among the Eldar and occasionally they received visits from him when possible but of course, he had his own diplomatic duties to attend.     Maedhros’ demeanour had changed since his capture by Melkor and his chaining on Thangorodrim, and he had become bitter still since his cousin Fingon had perished in battle, but that was another tale. What had finally given him the last push was the final loss of the Silmarils some years prior. An incident that both he and Maglor rued.     However, he tried in vain to remedy his attitude when Elros and Elrond were present, as he had raised them almost as he had done with his own young brothers. But he felt old now. Tired and worn out. He was not the same man he once was.     A large grey blanket was wrapped around his shoulders, accentuating his once vibrant and glossy hair that was now a flat ginger, windswept and hanging down his back, but it was still one of his unmistakable features.     Hunched over with his knees to his chest, it was hard to miss the Lordly elf sat alone on the plains and Maglor knew it was best to leave his brother to his thoughts when he was in that state of mind, as he was always a little difficult to open up regarding what troubled him.