Maedhros opens his mouth to argue again but shuts it before he's even gotten a word out when Fingon turns his own logic against him. It is entirely unfair of Fingon to turn his own words against him like that!
"That is..." Not the same? Entirely different? But was it truly? Was this hoarding of guilt and blame just some perverse manifestation of his damnable pride? The belief that all the wrongs in the world could be traced back to himself?
"I have never been overly prone to treat myself kindly. But you just might be right that it is a path to madness... I would not claim I was entirely sane before I came here. My mind is... quieter here and less disordered than it was in my last moments." Oh. Oh, he hopes Fingon did not catch on to what he accidentaly let slip there. He had not planned to let him know he had died as well. That was a discussion he'd like to put off for quite some time if he could, if only so he didn't have to tell his cousin he'd done it to himself.
"No. No, that is not what I thought at all. Not at Doriath, at least, it wasn't until Sirion that I'd lost hope entirely and was just... playing the part that seemed to have been assigned to me, I suppose."
Maedhros could keep arguing, he supposes, but he too is tired. He does not have as much fight left in him as he once did. "Then I suppose I'll have to accept that. You are my King, Finno, no matter where we are and, even if I may try to argue my case, I'll heed your judgement." Then, with a wry and humorless smile. "My own has proved to be less than sound, I fear."
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"That is..." Not the same? Entirely different? But was it truly? Was this hoarding of guilt and blame just some perverse manifestation of his damnable pride? The belief that all the wrongs in the world could be traced back to himself?
"I have never been overly prone to treat myself kindly. But you just might be right that it is a path to madness... I would not claim I was entirely sane before I came here. My mind is... quieter here and less disordered than it was in my last moments." Oh. Oh, he hopes Fingon did not catch on to what he accidentaly let slip there. He had not planned to let him know he had died as well. That was a discussion he'd like to put off for quite some time if he could, if only so he didn't have to tell his cousin he'd done it to himself.
"No. No, that is not what I thought at all. Not at Doriath, at least, it wasn't until Sirion that I'd lost hope entirely and was just... playing the part that seemed to have been assigned to me, I suppose."
Maedhros could keep arguing, he supposes, but he too is tired. He does not have as much fight left in him as he once did. "Then I suppose I'll have to accept that. You are my King, Finno, no matter where we are and, even if I may try to argue my case, I'll heed your judgement." Then, with a wry and humorless smile. "My own has proved to be less than sound, I fear."