"I am going to bed."
"Don't sulk for too long, Ambarussa , or Father will be angry."
"I am not sulking."
Amrod pushed past Amras to crawl into the tent they shared. Fingering the quilt for a moment, he pulled it over. Yes, he would dream of good things. Of his mother who had given him this quilt and spent long hours reading to him. Or of the hunting trips Amras would conjure up and the long nights in the Wild. However, the heaviness in his heart would not leave him. Sighing, he unfocused his eyes, hoping the foreboding feeling would not follow him into the dream world.
He sat bolt upright. Fire. Smoke drifted down through the ceiling above and red light flashed in the timbers. Where was he? Scrambling to his feet he peered through the curtain of smoke falling from above. Was this a ship? He had seen them in the books his grandfather kept in his library. More smoke assailed him and he stumbled back, coughing. He needed to find a way out. Wading through the thick smoke, which scratched his eyes until they were red and weeping, he searched for the whole in the roof that he had seen in a drawing. The only way he could escape. Suddenly the ship lurched and a timber cracked and split. Fire crashed into the bottom of the boat, hungry flames licking up everything in its path. He fled, the fire snatching at his heels. There was no way out. Smoke blinded him to all but the fire. The fire.
Desperately, he climbed on boxes and barrels, trying to get away, away from the devilish forks of flame. He bent double coughing the poisonous fumes from his tired lungs. Fire snatched at his clothing, seeking his flesh. Panicked, he beat the fire away and climbed higher. He couldn't get away. Sobbing he screamed his brother's names. His father. Desperately calling for his mother. The fiery inferno reached higher and higher.
"Amras," he begged. "Amras save me."
The smoke clutched his throat again and the fire enveloped him. He was burning. Burning. His grip on the ship loosened and he fell into the flames. They jumped around him like Wolves gloating over their prey. So much pain, so much agony.
"Brother!"
He looked up with smoke glazed eyes. Amras stood in the flames, looking terrified and confused. No, his brother needed to get away before the fire and smoke took him! He shook his head, trying to tell his brother to run, but the flames stole his words and burned his face. Amras was walking closer, not running. No! He writhed, screaming as the flames ate away at him, his body disappearing into ash. One had stretched out and grasped his.
"Wake me up brother. Wake me up," he half screamed, half begged.
Amras pulled and the flames reluctantly gave up their victim. He saw them flicker menacingly, as if warning him this wasn't the last time. Amras was dragging him away, dragging him…
"Amrod!"
The young elf's eyes focused, and he lay there trembling, sweat beading on his forehead. Amras was bending over him, hands gripping his twin's shoulders. The two shared a deep look, the older already knowing what had shaken Amrod so badly.
"Our bond was troubled, I decided to come to bed so you would not be alone in your dreams. But...I found you…"
"Burning," Amrod rasped, wrapping his arms around his brother, seeking comfort.
Amras lay down again, allowing his twin to weep on his shoulder. Cradling his little brother with one arm, he ran his fingers through Amrod's bright red hair, just as their mother had done when they were younger. Amrod sobbed, gripping his twin tight, unwilling to let go.
"Burning," he whispered. "Burning."
"You are not there anymore," Amrod soothed, himself shaken by what he had seen in his twin's dream.
Images of Amrod's burning body flittered through his mind. Nightmares were rare for them. But this one had been different. Amras had seen the fire and smoke, but he could not feel them. Amrod had been writhing in flames that were devouring him. He had always felt what his twin had in dreams and reality. But this, he couldn't feel anything, nothing but the searing agony of Amrod's mind. It scared him.
"Come on, brother," Amras whispered. "Let us sleep in peace."
"I cannot sleep," Amrod murmured.
"Then I will stay awake with you."
"Good morning, Ambarussa."
"Good morning, Russandol."
The twins answered in unison as usual and Maedhros smiled. But worry clouded his eyes as he saw his twin baby brothers had dark circles under their eyes, and Amrod looked as if he had been tortured all night long. They miss their mother, Maedhros told himself, I do not blame them, for I to miss her. He reached out and tousled their red heads.
"Are you alright, Ambarussa?"
"We are well, Russandol."
"What have you done?!"
"Ambarussa, no..."
"Why? What have you done, father?!"
Amrod stared strickenly at his father, whose robes were torn and bloodied. His twin pulled desperately at his arm, trying to drag him away from their father.
"They were going to help us!" Amrod screamed. "You murdered them!"
"Get on the boat, Ambarto," their father said coldly.
"You killed them!" Amrod shouted. "They didn't even have a chance to fight back! You are a murderer!"
"I said, get in the boat!" their father turned menacingly, dripping sword still in his hand.
"I wish I had never gone with you!" Amrod snarled. "I wish I had gone with mother! I wish you weren't my father!"
"Ambarussa," Amras begged again. "Please….leave father alone."
"He isn't my father," Amrod jerked away from his twin and ran off.
Amras shot his father a helpless look, mingled with a touch of fear. He could feel his twin's hate, despair, and his horror. Quickly, he made pursuit, catching up with his twin.
"Ambarussa…" Amras touched his younger brother's shoulder.
"He killed them, Ambarussa," Amrod sank to the ground, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Father….killed them….they were going to help us...they didn't want to hurt us…"
"They were going to report us to the Valar," Amras said softly.
"No they weren't!" Amrod shook his head. "They were our kin. Don't you see? Father killed our own kindred!"
"But we swore an oath," Amras replied.
"That was before I knew father was a murderer! A kinslayer! Don't defend him Ambarussa," Amrod pulled away.
Amras sighed and looked around, "We need to go…"
"Yes," Amrod looked up. "Back to mother...we can repent the oath….we can beg for Iluvatar's mercy."
"No, we must go with Father, across the Sea," Amras shook his head.
"I won't go!" Amrod said determinedly. "Those ships will be the death of us."
"Ambarussa, what are you saying?" Amras looked stricken as his twin pulled away again.
"Death follows, Father," Amrod looked back. "We cannot follow. We have to go back to Mother!"
Amras heard the soft tread of their brother's approaching and soon they were surrounded. Amrod's eyes were crazed as he glanced around.
"Come, Ambarussa," Russandol said softly. "It is time to leave."
Amras stood up, "Come on, Brother,"
"I'm not going with you," Amrod sat stubbornly still.
Carnistir quickly crossed the space and hauled Amrod to his feet. Amras winced as his brother fought and bit Carnistir's hand. Their older brother cursed and Tyelcormo came to his rescue. Together they pulled Amrod to the ships.
"Russandol," Amrod begged as they passed their older brother.
The tall red-head shook his head and turned towards the ships. Amrod watched with stricken eyes, before turning to Makalaure.
"Please...don't make me…" he pleaded.
"I'm sorry, Ambarussa," Makalaure turned away also.
Amrod sagged in his brother's grasps, turning pleading eyes to his twin. Amras stood helplessly, his arms limp by his side, his gaze turned downward.
"Ambarussa…" Amrod took a shaky breath. "Don't make me go. Don't make me go on the ships."
"I'm sorry brother," Amras looked up. "We must go with father...the Oath…"
Amrod's eyes widened and he stared at his twin, betrayal shining in his eyes. Amras looked away, and followed as Carnistir and Tyelcormo pulled him away towards the ships.
"You let them take me!" Amrod shouted, swiping at the tears running down his face.
Amrod watched his twin pace the lower deck, his russet colored hair frizzing out of his braid. The ship lurched as the Sea rose against them, causing a dreadful roaring that muted his brother's yells.
"The ships are the death of us!" Amrod screamed over the Sea. "You will see! You will see!"
"We swore an Oath!"
"And we are doomed because of it! It only leads to death!"
Amras withdrew a pace, seeing the madness of their father in his twin's eyes. He took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say.
"Brother…" he tried to touch his twin's shoulder.
"Don't!" Amrod cried.
Amras' eyes widened and he felt something snap. He fell to his knees in the rocking ship, holding his head, a sharp new feeling overcoming him. A coldness spread in his mind. He was alone. Their bond...where was their bond? Amras opened his mouth, but no words came out. The loneliness overcame him.
Amrod had shut off their bond.
He was alone.
He watched as his twin sent him an apologizing look and turned away, curling up on his mat and pulling the quilt over his head. Amras sat alone in the darkness, and the cold. Alone.
It took several nights before Amras could get used to sleeping alone. Even then he hated it, for he had to wander through restless dreams all by himself. Amrod had been inconsolable, even his cousins had failed to bring him to his senses. Their father's threats only made it worse.
But as the weeks passed, Amrod grew silent and cold. No one could get him to talk, and try as Amras might, he would not reopen the bond. The events rolled by.
Storms.
The docking at Araman.
The betraying of their kin.
Landing on Arda.
"Please come to land," Amras begged his twin.
"The land troubles me," Amrod said in a monotone. "I will spend the night on the ship."
"Then I will take my leave," Amras turned towards the hatch.
"You will die there," Amrod said, looking up at this twin. "Please stay with me."
"No," Amras said firmly. "I am loyal to Father and the Oath."
"It will be the death of you," Amrod warned, as Amras climbed out into the open.
Amrod sat there in the silence, waiting for the fall of night. As soon as everything outside went quiet, he would slip out and cut the moorings. He could find his way back and would plead for mercy from Manwe himself...from Iluvatar even. Then he could go and live with his mother, crafting beautiful things from blocks of stone. Sleep pulled at him and he lay down. Night was far away and it wouldn't hurt to get in a little extra sleep.
He jolted away, a strange smell assaulting him. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Amrod sat up. There it was...that strange smell...like the smoke from a campfire…
Smoke.
Amrod bolted to his feet and began moving to the hatch. Above him the crackling and hiss of fire spread. His dream, it was coming true. The ships were death. The land was death. Where could he go?
He grasped the hatch pushed up, but smoke and fire dropped down when he opened it. There was a great cracking noise and Amrod bolted for the other end of the ship. The mast fell, fire eating away its support, and crashed downward over the hatch. A yardarm slammed into the ship, creating a gaping hole from the upper deck. Fire spilled down as well as smoke. Amrod backed away, his eyes searching for an escape.
Another creak and groan as the ship began to drift away from its mooring. Amrod soon found there was no way out.
No way out.
Panicked, he began to reopen the bond, but smoke choked him and the boards above his head fell in. He ducked and ran away from the fire, the loose threads to allow the bond to open again falling out of his grasp. Terrified, he fought against the smoke which threatened to pull the life from him.
Fire burned at his clothing and skin. Smoke blinded and strangled him. Pain assailed him from every direction.
"Wake me up please, Ambarussa," he begged with the last of his voice. "Wake me up brother...please."
But he knew this was not a dream. No place was safe. Death was everywhere. He could not escape. Death waited and watched.
Suddenly the floor disappeared from under him and he fell, the Sea pulling Amrod into its arms.
Death had come to the first of the Feanorians.
"Have you seen, Ambarussa?" Amras pushed through the crowds of his father's people and his family.
Despite his searchings, he could not find his twin. If only their bond was still connected, he would have found Amrod instantly. Spotting his oldest brother standing on a cliff looking out over the harbor, Amras decided to use his brother's height to find his twin in the throngs.
"Russandol," Amras called.
His older brother stood still, his eyes watching the smoking remains of the ships. Amras winced, remembering the argument that had transpired last night between Russandol and their father.
"I can't find, Ambarussa," Amras said softly. "I thought you might help me."
"Did you not rouse him last night?" Russandol turned.
"No, I thought Father gathered us all," Amras replied, not wanting to admit he wanted to avoid another argument with his twin.
"Then we will ask Father," Russandol's jaw hardened slightly. "Come on."
It was some time before they found their father, commanding supplies be moved further inshore. Russandol stood to one side, refusing to talk with their father. Amras tapped the dark-haired elf's shoulder.
"Father….do you know where...Ambarto is?" Amras asked quietly.
"No, I did not see him in the burning of the ships. Your doubting brother is probably hiding, afraid of the Valar and the curses of his uncle," Their father snapped.
"You did not wake him last night?" Amras' eyes widened. "*He would not come ashore to sleep. The land troubled him…"
Their father straightened, before turning to his sons, who had gathered around. The madness shone in his eyes as he spoke.
"That ship I destroyed first."
Amras stumbled back, unable-no-unwilling to accept his twin's death. Everything flooded back to him, their arguments, the loss of the bond, Amrod's nightmare. The others bowed their heads, taking their youngest brother's death less seriously than they should have. Only Russandol looked angry when he walked away. Amras looked his father in the eyes, the wind tangling his dark red hair.
"Mother was right," he said, his voice cracking. "In giving him the name Umbarto, the Fated one. You killed him, father. Fell and fey you are...death follows you and all who swore the Oath. Ambarussa was right. There is nothing for us but Death."
Amrod turned and fled, leaving their father staring at the broken ashy ruins of the burned ships. Death ghosted over the ruins in the form of wispy smoke.
"Where am I?"
"In my Halls, Lastborn of Feanor."
"Why am I here?"
"Because you swore the Oath. Because of your betrayal to the Valar."
"How long must I stay?"
"Until all of your family comes to this Hall, for you alone will be pure-handed. When the last of your kin falls into these Halls, then will you return to your mother."
"Mother….is she well?"
"It is not for the dead to know how the living pass their lives, Lastborn of Feanor. Nor of the living to know how the dead pass their time."
"Then I will wait."
"There is no other option."
Amras stared into the campfire, tears running down his cheeks. Red-rimmed eyes never moved, and a passerby might have thought him asleep. His brother...Amrod...dead. Amras felt the threads of the bond, snapped horridly in severed pieces. Over the weeks he had gotten used to the feeling of being alone, but this, this was worse. Now there was nothing to restore the shattered bond, no one to share dreams with. No hope that Amrod would give up and reopen the bond instead of shutting him out.
If only he had been kinder, or had listened to his brother. Then they might have died together that night. That's all Amras wanted, to have been on that ship with his brother. The wild, betrayed look of Amrod ghosted through his mind, as well as memories of everything they had done together. This was his fault, if only he had listened to his brother!
A shadow moved to sit on the log next to the grieving young elf. Feanor wrapped an arm around his youngest child, holding him close.
"The Teleri bewitched your brother," Feanor said in a low voice. "Those against the Oath turned your brother away from us. We must not let that happen again. We Feanorians must stay true to each other and the Oath."
Amras sat still, the words of his father seeping into his lost soul. Had the Teleri bewitched his brother? It would explain the strange, unnatural behavior, the breaking of the bond, the foretellings of Death and Destruction.
"It is their fault your brother is dead," his father began again. "We must regain the Silmarils. Take revenge on those who defy us. Revenge your brother's death."
Their conversation lasted long into the night, and when Feanor stood and left, Amras laid down to sleep. His father's madness shone in his eyes and he promised to take vengeance for Amrod's death.
Death hung in the shadows, watching and waiting.
Death would visit the other Feanorians shortly.
Death had come.