This is another installment in 'The Care and Feeding of Partly Human Children.'

I own nothing.


Maglor left early in the morning with his second Astorion and a few other soldiers. The twins had dragged out the goodbyes so they were much longer than they had needed to be, extracting promises from Maglor that no, he wasn't going away forever, and yes, of course he would come back, he would be back in a week or so. "Just be patient, little ones," he said to them, and Maedhros wondered how he could say that with such assurance.

Maglor had looked to him then, and said that he would do what he could with what they had, and that all that was left now was hope that the Nandorin settlement near Amon Ereb would still trade with them. Maedhros nodded, and tersely wished him good luck. He watched them ride away, black specks on a deep reddish-violet horizon that eventually disappeared.

Maedhros hoped that his brother met with success. He did not feel hunger as much as others, and unlike certain others, he had learned to welcome any food, not just food that was perfectly palatable to eat. However, he was also aware of the fact that the quality of the food that a soldier ate had a potentially significant effect on morale, and that eventually, they would run out of food altogether if they couldn't procure more grain for planting, and desertions on account of foodlessness wasn't something Maedhros wanted to deal with. Sartandil told him that there had been some complaints in the barracks about the meager portions; hopefully, this would rectify that issue.

But not without some unease did Maedhros watch his brother ride east. Recent… events had alienated them from many of the Nandor, Laiquendi, and other tribes of Ossiriand. Maedhros was aware that there were those among the natives of Beleriand who did not see Kinslaying in the same way as did others, and he was equally aware that there were many who had harbored no more love for Thingol after he closed his borders and rendered no more aid to Ossiriand, and that they were no more fond of the Sindar under Dior, or Elwing. All the same, there was always the chance that they would have taken offense, and Maglor was the sort not to smell danger until it was nearly too late. Maglor might have at worst expected to receive a verbal rejection from the Nandor, but Maedhros suspected that if worst came to worst, Maglor could expect to be greeted with arrows rather than words. Maedhros was not sure what he would do, if it came to that.

So for the next week or so, longer if it rained again, Maedhros would deal with silence from his remaining brother, and not knowing whether his visit to the settlement had met with success. They could not both go, and thus leave Amon Ereb undefended. Maglor was better with languages than was Maedhros, and less intimidating in physical appearance.

There were other reasons, as well.

Maedhros became aware of the two others at the gate staring at him. He looked down, and met Elros and Elrond's gazes. The two boys wore identical expressions of uncertainty as they looked at him.

Maedhros nodded towards the fortress town. "Go back inside," he said quietly, and off they went.

-0-0-0-

It was not so much as an agreement as much as it was unspoken knowledge shared between Maedhros and Maglor. If the settlement now counted them their enemies after the Kinslaying at the Havens, it probably would not be a good idea to have the two boys they had taken hostage with them in Ossiriand. Maedhros shook his head and snorted. Even if Galadhwen was still willing to trade with them, it still probably wasn't a good idea to have Elros and Elrond out in the open in front of her.

So in Maglor's absence, that left the two of them to Maedhros. This was a duty that Maedhros knew would be his, but still, did not, could not feel comfortable with.

Elwing's boys were fidgety.

When Maedhros thought about it, this was nothing new, really. They were really very young, and Maedhros vividly remembered most of the small children he had known as being incapable of sitting still for more than a few moments. If anything, Galadriel had probably been the only child he'd ever known not to fidget constantly. But unless it was Maedhros's imagination, the two boys were fidgeting a bit more than they had before when he knew them.

The high table in the great hall was currently empty at mealtimes. Maedhros never took his meals there anyways, and it seemed unfair to make the twins eat there by themselves, alone at the high table. It also seemed to Maedhros that children as young as Elros and Elrond usually didn't have much in the way of table manners, and he wasn't sure if Maglor had been correcting any mistakes in etiquette.

As a result, the three of them ate together, and what had once been relatively peaceful quiet meals had become very quiet meals fraught with tension, nervousness, and the twins' fidgeting. Apart from Maedhros occasionally having to correct the way one of them held a knife or fork, the meals were silent, punctuated only by the clink of metal against the plates, and two pairs of dark gray eyes staring longingly out of the window.

At least they had good appetites. When the Ambarussa were their age, Maedhros and Nerdanel had had so much trouble getting them to eat even half of what was put on their plates. Then again, they have so little to eat to start with that I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that when food is put in front of them, they wolf it all down.

Finally, the gazes of the two boys turned to him, expectant and nervous all at once. "You're excused," Maedhros said to them, and they vacated the room immediately.

In the silent room, he listened to the sound of the wind outside, gave a brief glance to the empty plates, and wondered exactly how long a child's memory was supposed to be.

-0-0-0-

Maedhros knew how easily bored a child, let alone two children left to entertain themselves could become, especially when they weren't old enough to receive lessons in anything beyond learning to read and write. If he recalled, most of the mischief wrought by himself, his brothers and his cousins as children was the direct result of boredom. Fortunately, Elros and Elrond did not appear to be terribly interested in making mischief (or were afraid of the consequences of making mischief), and were actually rather good at keeping themselves occupied.

Somehow, Maedhros wasn't sure how, wherever he went during waking hours, Elwing's boys were close at hand. In the study, going over the accounts or reading over the annals, he could hear them outside in the hall, shrieking in laughter as they chased each other up and down bright, stuffy corridors. In the barracks or out in the courtyard, the pair of them were often playing outside while Maedhros was carrying out inspections or running drills, or even simply visiting the barracks. A right distraction they were to the soldiers, as well. On more than one occasion, Maedhros had to call them to attention because they were distracted by the twins running around or climbing the oak tree in the courtyard. Even Sartandil, perhaps because he was recently wed and yet had no children (and was one of the few who had not left Maedhros and Maglor's service when he married), was soft on them. Maedhros would have said that no one ought to have grown too attached to them. He would have said that they would probably be gone within a few months, a year, or a couple of years at the most. But he was the only one who remembered this, so saying as much felt like trying to scream into a windstorm.

In the library, as well, they could be found. Reading was one of the few pleasures Maedhros had left, and though he and his brothers had managed to salvage very few books when their lands fell (the Ambarussa had hardly had any to begin with; an encampment that moved every few months was not the sort of place where a great library would be found), there were enough to keep him occupied. Maedhros would sit at one end of the room, and Elrond and Elros sat on the stone floor at the other end. They might be playing, albeit much more quietly than they would outside or in the corridors, or they might have a book open between them. Maedhros would watch out of the corner of his eye as Elwing's boys struggled to read the Quenya script, as they argued about what a certain word was and what it meant. Elrond had some very interesting, if inaccurate interpretations.

"Umm…"

Something (or someone, and Maedhros had a feeling he knew who) made a soft sound to his left. He looked down, and there they were, Elrond holding a book in his arms and Elros asking, "Can you tell us what this word is, please?"

Elrond put the book on the table in front of Maedhros and opened it up to the page they had been looking at. Elros stood on tiptoe and pointed to the word in question.

"That's 'vivisecting.'" Vivisecting? Maedhros frowned, and read over the section that this word had been found in. 'And upon vivisecting the corpse, the surgeon removed the lungs and liver…' Suddenly, Maedhros remembered that Curufin had once upon a time entertained an interest in surgery and anatomy. He flipped to the next page. There were even illustrations.

Unaware of the headache now pounding in the back of Maedhros's skull, Elrond asked, quite innocently, "What does 'vivisecting' mean?"

Maedhros looked at them. He looked at their remarkably innocent faces. He imagined telling them, and giving them the book back to let them flip the page and be horrified. He imagined the way they would scream. He imagined the likelihood, however remote, that Maglor would hear them screaming all the way from Ossiriand and return to Amon Ereb, demanding explanations. Maedhros imagined the way he would have reacted if one of his brothers had let two small children read a book like this.

"You should not be reading a book like this," he muttered. Without actually giving either of them an answer to the question of what the word 'vivisecting' means, Maedhros took the book back to the bookshelf on the opposite wall, setting it on the highest shelf where neither of the twins could reach. There weren't really a whole lot of books here, but surely there was something completely appropriate for children.

Finally, Maedhros found a book of poetry, either Maglor's or something that had belonged to Ilmanis. Remembering the sort of poetry Ilmanis had liked, he flipped through it to make sure that there was nothing objectionable in it, and then handed it down to the children. "You will likely get further with this."

Maedhros was granted another hour of silence after that. Well, relative silence; Elros and Elrond still argued about the meanings of certain words in the verses, but they did so more quietly than before, and did not go to Maedhros for instruction or advice. The close, still heat of the room was stifling, and Maedhros found himself coming close to dozing off. Before he could, however, two black-haired, gray-eyed heads appeared over the other side of the table again.

"Can you read to us?" Elros asked in a small voice.

That he did not immediately say no the two of them seemed to take as assent. Elwing's boys scurried around the table and clambered into a single chair beside Maedhros, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

He sighed. Maedhros had seen them wearing that look before, but he wasn't the one they usually used it on.

"You two want Kano to come back, don't you?" he asked quietly.

"When is Maglor coming back?" Elrond asked in response, trying not to sound plaintive and failing miserably.

Not for the first time, Maedhros wondered when exactly these two had decided to put their trust in Maglor, instead of seeing him for what he was (seeing us for what we are), their kidnapper. "In a few days. Just be patient," he said to them, echoing Maglor's words when he left. He looked them both over, his gaze piercing. Elros and Elrond squirmed a little in their chair, but didn't look away. "Do you miss him?" Maedhros's tone was almost sadly amused, despite himself.

Elrond nodded; Elros did as well a moment afterwards.

He didn't understand it, honestly.

"Tell me, who read to you when you lived in Sirion? Your mother?"

Elros shook his head. "Not a lot. It was usually Glessil, our nurse."

"Or Erestor, or Nellas," Elrond added.

Had Elwing considered her sons young enough to still need a nurse, then? Maedhros would confess that he wasn't really as intimately familiar with the function of a nurse as were others. In Aman among the Noldor, mothers had always cared for their children themselves, unless their health did not allow for it, or, in his grandmother Míriel's case, she had died. It wasn't considered proper for a mother of common birth to work until all of her children were grown, and it wasn't considered proper for a nís of noble birth to work at all, so there was no need for nurses. The profession had only arisen among the Noldor in Beleriand, when by necessity and by the opportunities provided them in this land, there were many nissi who still worked or took part in the governance of their people after having children. Elros and Elrond could certainly eat solid food without trouble. There was probably no need for a wet-nurse, then, and Maedhros pushed the thought from his mind.

"And what would they read you?"

"Lots of things," Elros replied.

Maedhros nodded. The book they had brought to him was the book of poetry he had given them to read earlier. He pushed it aside. "I will not read to you." He held up his hand before they could protest. "I can think of a few stories to tell you without a book in front of me. You want something new, I suppose?"

They both nodded eagerly.

-0-0-0-

Maglor and his escort returned to Amon Ereb very early in the morning eight days after they had left. Maedhros roused Elwing's boys from their rest, and all (admittedly non-verbal) protests of sleepiness dissipated when he mentioned that Maglor was back.

As their horses were being stabled, Maglor walked across the courtyard to Maedhros, nodding to a large earthenware jar that had been set by the wall. "Galadhwen was willing to give us grain for planting after all," he said with a smile, and neither brothers mentioned that all things considered, that wasn't a great deal of grain, not enough to replenish the nearly-empty granary.

"And what did she want in return?" Maedhros asked shrewdly. The Nandor couldn't have had a lot to trade with to start with. There had been early frosts last year and that had killed off a lot of Amon Ereb's own crops; the Nandor can not have fared much better. As little as it was, relatively speaking, that was still a generous contribution for Galadhwen to make.

"Galadhwen's been having trouble with Orcs," Maglor explained in a low voice. "They've managed to repel most of them, but they're having more trouble recently. She wanted promises of protection; I granted them."

Maedhros nodded. "Fine." It was enough that they could still maintain an alliance with the neighboring Nandorin community; if they had to render protection, so be it. "And you got your new harp strings, I suppose?"

"I did, indeed."

A bright smile lit up Maglor's face as Elros and Elrond came running across the courtyard. "Oh, there you both are!" He knelt down before them, still beaming. "I have something for you."

Maedhros watched, eyebrows raised, as Maglor produced from inside his cloak a small wooden box, which he handed off to the twins. Elros lifted the lid, to reveal four small, carved wooden animals, a cat, a dog, a horse, and a bird with its wings outstretched.

The way the twins immediately began to play with them was the equivalent of any thanks. Maedhros felt a twinge of guilt at realizing that they had not even thought of taking any of the boys' toys in Sirion (for surely there must have been some there) back to Amon Ereb after the Kinslaying, so he did not try to extract a 'thank you' out of either of them. Perhaps that was why Maglor didn't either.

Maglor clambered to his feet, and looked at Maedhros with an apologetic expression on his face. "I know it's a waste of money, but they're really too young to be taught anything apart from how to read and write, and they need something to do when I'm not teaching them…"

Maedhros shook his head. "No, it's fine. You're right; they do need something to do." Even if they are already pretty adept at occupying themselves. He smirked. "But it falls to you to make sure they put their toys away in the evening, brother."

"Well, naturally."

Maglor was right: Elros and Elrond really were too young to be taught much beyond how to read and write. When they were older, they would be taught more. Hostages or not, they were the sons of one of the lords of Gondolin, sons of she whom many of the Sindar had taken as their Queen, and they were children being raised in the household of Princes of the Noldor. They would be raised as such, with all that that entailed, for as long as they lived here. Until Eärendil came back. For now, however, this was what they needed.

One of the boys called Maglor to come play with them, and he sat down beside them on the flagstones without a care in the world, smiling happily.

Maedhros turned and headed back inside. As the sound of their chatter was swallowed by the closing door, he thought that Maglor would have made a good father.


Kano—Maglor

Laiquendi—Green-Elves; some of the inhabitants of Ossiriand (singular: Laiquendë) (Quenya)
Nís—woman (plural: nissi)