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February 29, 2012
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He was glad that nobody could see him now. Here he was, one of the oldest elves in Middle-earth, and he had nothing to show for it other than his birds. Even if he loved his birds, and they seemed to care for him as well, there was nothing else left. He no longer sang, he had no wish for it anymore. After his brothers were dead, and he had nothing to fight for, he had lost his place. What was a warrior without a war, and a singer without a muse?

For this reason, he had only birds that didn't sound musical. His favorite was the hawk. The way it screamed echoed the sounds he wished he could make still, but his voice was long gone, it had gone away when he quit singing. And so he let the hawk scream for him, and he knew that it was screaming because it was hungry. But it was so easy to forget that, and allow himself to believe that it was because the hawk really did understand him.

So each night he stood on top of the hill, watching for the hawk. And each night it came screaming back to him, hungry. He would watch it as it caught the food it needed, before settling in for the night, reminding him of soldiers after a day's battle. Until one night, the hawk no longer returned. He searched until he found it, at the bottom of the hill, stiff and frozen. Wrapping it in a cloth, he carried it to the top of the hill and placed it between two branches of the tree.

And then it was bubbling out of him, and he was screaming. His voice was hoarse and scratchy, but he was screaming. He kept screaming and screaming and screaming until his voice grew higher and higher and higher, piercing the night. The night grew colder as he screamed, but he had no cares. When he finally quit screaming, he felt so old – surely elves weren't supposed to feel like this? But the cold was setting into his bones, just like it had the poor hawk, and it was so tempting to just lie down and sleep like the hawk was.

The snow came that night, and the next, and for many days after that. It would be several weeks before anybody crossed through the area again. And they would look at each other, and wonder at the curious sight before them and shake their heads. But others would look at the elf, and wonder what battle had finally brought such a warrior to his death?
Written for B2MEB, Day 1, I18 Sons of Feanor Maglor the Mighty; Landscape - hill; Life Events Old Age; Beasts - hawk

Sometimes, the hardest battle that one can fight is against oneself. I firmly believe that Maglor was one of, if not the, mightest of his brothers in willpower and determination. It takes massive courage, I think, to live with the types of things that Maglor saw in the first age, and keep both your sanity and at least part of your pride.

I'm not sure how well I did at conveying it in the story, but in the end, Maglor's worst enemy (and the only one mighty enough to kill him) was himself and the fact that he had lived so long. But at the same time, mighty is not invincible...and my brain loves killing people off.

(Somewhat hesitant to post this, I'm not entirely happy with it, but at the same time, it's possible my favorite one so far out of all the fics I've started today...I'm just not sure how I feel about it.)\

Edit: Oh yeah, this [link] is a hawk screaming. And the inspiration for this fic.
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:iconsmilingofthehealer:
SmilingOfTheHealer Featured By Owner Mar 18, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Poor Maglor.. But really nice story, so full of emotions! Good job! :clap::love:
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:iconladybrookecelebwen:
LadyBrookeCelebwen Featured By Owner Apr 1, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you! Poor Maglor in deed...I'm glad the emotions came through clearly. :glomp:
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:iconmontmartre96:
montmartre96 Featured By Owner Mar 14, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Poor Maglor :( The symbols in this story are very powerful, it's an interesting take at Maglor's last days!
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:iconladybrookecelebwen:
LadyBrookeCelebwen Featured By Owner Jul 12, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
(My apologies for the really late reply)

Poor Maglor never gets a break. :( Thank you! I'm glad you found it interesting.
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:iconhhimring:
hhimring Featured By Owner Mar 3, 2012
Very striking, how you put the hawk at the core of the story and turned him into such a powerful symbol. I think this is a story to be proud of. If you come back to it at any point (as you say you are not quite happy with it), I think the one thing that might be missing is just a little bit of visual detail in the final paragraph--just a hint of what they are seeing that makes them think the dead elf must have been a mighty warrrior?
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:iconhuinare:
Huinare Featured By Owner Mar 2, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
[um, this is a spoiler-containing comment, I'm not sure if you have/what your policy is on those, but figured I'd put this disclaimer in?]

I quite liked this, Brooke. The idea that Maglor has started to think of the hawk as his own voice is great, and it’s very fitting that he thus ends screaming, when there is no one left to scream for him.

Also, stories with birds dying always get to me for some reason. A long time ago I wrote a story where someone murdered an old man by poisoning the man’s tame birds; he died of grief or shock. So anyway, yeah, I thoroughly approve of the use of the hawk!
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:iconladybrookecelebwen:
LadyBrookeCelebwen Featured By Owner Mar 7, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
[...I don't really have one, I guess.]

Thank you! I'm glad you find it a great idea, I was worried that it would come off as overly dramatic.

That story sounds interesting...I'm glad you approve!
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:iconnolwenamiel:
NolweNamiel Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2012
Great story, LadyB! I knew you would find some way to reunite Kano with his beloved brothers.
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:iconladybrookecelebwen:
LadyBrookeCelebwen Featured By Owner Mar 7, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you, ES! Of course I would...I wasn't feeling that angsty and evil when I wrote it, not to reunite him with his brothers.
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:iconannathelle26:
Annathelle26 Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Ooh, I've missed your lovely angsty fics (I don't mean that your crack ones aren't funny, of course, it's just that your angsty ones have something very special:love:)

And this one is no exception. I love how you combine all the props, and how you lay your thoughts about Maglor... the end is wonderful too. Poor Maglor, now he is with his family at least.
Well done Resto!^^
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