Fingon blinked in surprise and confusion. He did not remember saying anything about being abandoned. He had been thinking about it, yes, but he hadn’t said it. Could she have possibly read his thoughts? And if so, was she reading them right now? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
He was about to ask Amaniel of it, but then he heard his name suddenly called out. Turning around, he saw
Finrod looking at him with an enthusiastic expression on his face. Assuming he was wanting to speak with him, and not wanting to be rude to Amaniel by just walking off, he turned back to her for a moment. “Please excuse me, as it appears I am being summoned. I do look forward to our alliance, though.”
Fingon walked over to where
Maedhros and Finrod were standing, smiling to see them, but before he had a chance to greet his cousin properly, Finrod started to heap all these praises on him. The suddenness of it caught him off guard at first, but he quickly regained himself. So, they must have been talking about what happened at
Thangorodrim...
Fingon bowed his head slightly out of humility and
gratitude, with a small smile on his lips. “Thank you, Cousin, for those high words of praise.“ He wouldn’t lie- hearing such compliments said of him made his heart joyful. Ever since he had recovered Maedhros and brought him home, he had heard many such praises spoken of him. They called him
Fingon the Valiant. He wasn’t conceited about it, though. He only did what any other would’ve- no,
should’ve done, which was to go and search for Maedhros rather than leaving him to his fate. But apparently only he had had the idea and the courage to do so.
When Finrod asked his questions, Fingon hesitated for a moment. He knew his cousin was just being curious and trying to be polite about it, and he didn’t mind that, but for some reason the memory of how he found Maedhros all those years ago still bothered him. He glanced up at Maedhros as a shadow of pain and sorrow passed over his own face in that moment. Even all these years later, it still broke his heart to think of what his best friend had gone though.
For the sake of answering Finrod’s questions, though, he took a deep breath and tried to retain his composure. “Mm, shortly after our arrival, when there was tension between our
peoples and the
Sons of Fëanor in Mithrim,
Maglor sent word to me, revealing what had happened during our absence, from
Fëanor’s death, to what had happened to Maedhros in an ambush.” His voice cracked a little with his next sentence. “He said he had been... captured and taken to
Angband some thirty years prior, and had never been seen or heard from since.” Thinking back to when he first read that letter, he remembered well the immense grief it brought his heart. Maedhros, a prisoner of
Morgoth in Angband? He couldn’t have even begun to imagine the kinds of horrors and torment he must have endured there, languishing for so long.
He continued. “I don’t think he was really expecting me to do anything about it, but rather had more felt compelled to simply inform me of what had befallen Maedhros, which I was grateful for regardless.” He paused. “While I now knew
where he was, I didn’t know where they might have been holding him.”
Or if he was even still alive, for that matter, but Fingon didn’t say that part aloud. “I just knew that someone needed to go after him, and seeing as how no one was taking the first step, I decided to set out on my own and go after him myself. I encountered no great threats along my path, thankfully, and I was able to approach Angband and search around. Everywhere I looked, though, I could not find him. I had even begun to scale Thangorodrim, but there was no sign of him. At this point, my heart was beginning to despair, fearing the worst.” He took a shaky breath and swallowed hard.
“As a way to keep myself going, I started to sing a song to myself, one of
the old ones we used to sing long ago, back in
Valinor. I thought I was all alone up there, but lo, I suddenly heard a faint voice singing along! I frantically looked around for the source, not seeing anyone, until I looked up, and there he was- Maedhros! I had finally found him, and he was alive.”
Some measure of joy returned to Fingon’s face as he mentioned this, but it quickly fell away again as he remembered the horror he felt when he saw the state Maedhros was in. He was hanging there by his right hand on a chain, beaten and scarred, emaciated, exposed to the elements, and begging for death. Grieved at seeing his best friend like this, he was about ready to give him the relief he wanted, when
Manwë had heard his prayers and sent the King of the
Eagles to assist him.
For a few moments, Fingon shut his eyes as the painful memories surfaced in his mind, trying hard to keep back the tears that were threatening to form. He would never forget the sight of his brother in heart hanging there like that. Opening his eyes, he looked up once more at Maedhros standing beside him now- tall, strong, and hale. Nothing like he was before, save for the scars that existed both physically and mentally.
Then he remembered Finrod’s other question. He didn’t blame him for feeling awkward about asking this, for indeed it had been gruesome. In considering his answer to this, his memory drifted back to those tense moments. Once the Eagle had lifted him up so he could actually reach Maedhros, he had tried everything he could to free him, either by breaking the chain or prying it from the mountainside, but it was to no avail. The device was too strong. Maedhros continued to beg him for death, which broke his heart even further. Looking upon his right hand, though, he saw how sickly it looked, having been strained and cut off from blood flow for so many years. Even if he was ever able to free Maedhros from the chain, he would probably never be able to use that hand again. Thus, he made the choice: Maedhros or his hand.
Fingon nodded slightly at Finrod, not looking quite as grieved as he had a moment ago, but still serious. His eyes narrowed. “I did indeed feel horrible about it at the time, but seeing as there was no other way to free him, and I was
not going to leave there without him, I made the difficult choice. I did what I had to do to bring Maedhros home, and it was worth it.” He smiled up at his best friend, glad that despite all that had happened, because of his decision he was now still able to see his smiling face and enjoy their deep friendship.
A thought occurred to him: If he had not gone after Maedhros and rescued him, Maedhros might not be here today. And if Maedhros was not here, he couldn’t have gone out and gathered all these supporters for
Fingolfin, which means they wouldn’t be having this meeting right now. And further, without Maedhros, there wouldn’t be such a strong defense along the northeastern borders where he guarded now. Everything would be entirely different without him. And this was all just because he had had the courage to venture out and seek his best friend, his brother in heart, not knowing what he may have found. This realization weighed on him a little, seeing how significant the after-effects were, not just for him, but all of
Beleriand, really. However, he knew he would never regret for a second what he did.
