This story follows my set of post-nirnaeth images posted under the title "Tears", but there is no real need to know that story. It will have three parts and it's already finished, so all I need to do is to translate the remaining two parts.
Part one
The news about a village of mortals just a few miles away would be most welcome, had it not been for their current situation and mistrust. They had already learned that while the elves nursed the feeling of betrayal, the humans found the Noldor leaders guilty of leading their sons and husbands to death, as almost none of them had returned after the battle. At best, it was anger, grief and reproaches that the sons of Feanor faced in human villages. At worst – stones, swords and arrows shot from behind them. As they had had a few such unpleasant encounters, the elves avoided any human places, determined to save as many of their own people as possible before the Winter.
They would have passed by this one as well, but they were in a need of a shelter for their wounded. And so they sat in grim silence, trying to get warm in their poor shelter and think of some solution. If they continued their journey, they would probably need some stretchers after a few hours.
"We have to try," said Caranthir finally, vexed by his brothers' silence. "The thing is, they cannot figure out who they're dealing with. So, we have a problem," he added unnecessarily.
"Hmm?" Maedhros turned his gaze from the fire. "What are you suggesting?"
"That, apart from you and Amras, most of us is able to mingle among others."
"As long as Moryo stays quiet," muttered the youngest of the brothers.
"And as long as Tyelko drops his habit of chatting with everything that moves," retorted Caranthir, offended and irritated. "But to the point. Forgive me, Nelyo, but you can hardly be taken for someone else. And the colour will betray Amras as well." Their red hair, inherited from their mother, was a rarity among the Noldor and most of the Edain had heard about elven princes ruling Beleriand for the last few centuries.
"I know," nodded Maedhros wearily. "Perhaps some of us can wait outside the village, while you go to buy some food and ask for shelter," he suggested, unconvinced.
"We're too few to split up," objected Caranthir. "And even if you stay near, there is still a risk that you will be discovered."
"I'll stay and put my hood on," muttered Amras gloomily, visibly discontent with the way this conversation was going. He was sitting in the corner of the half collapsed shed that was probably a temporary shepherd shelter during Summer, leaning against a wall full of holes.
"That won't be enough."
"Then I'll stay here," insisted Amras. Another blast of wind outside made him shudder and cover himself more tightly with his cloak.
"It's you who needs a dry bed for a few days," Caranthir reminded him. "Winter in mountains is going to be more harsh than on your southern lands, and we need to get back before snow falls. We need these few days of rest."
"Moryo is right," Maedhros supported him before Amras had a chance to sneer back. "We'll go and some of us will make a camp outside, if there is not enough place for all of us. The wounded need rest." He glanced at their companions on the other side of the shed. "To the point. Any suggestions?"
"I have seen mortal women dye their hair with bark," said Caranthir. "I think it may work with your red as well, so you won't stick out of the group."
"We can try in the morning," agreed Maedhros.
"Try what?" Celegorm joined the conversation, glancing sleepily at his brothers. He was already falling asleep among the rest; they were all weary.
"Doesn't matter. Sleep," said Caranthir dismissively. He looked at the wounded and sighed.
They had gone North at the end of the Summer, searching for refugees from Himring and other northern lands, hoping to gather them and lead them south-east, where it was safer. And they had succeeded. Apart from quite well-organized group from Himring, they bumped on several smaller groups they sent later to Dolmed. They intended to spend Winter there, before going South.
They were about to go back, when Celegorm and Amras decided to check one more trail and took their scouts too far.
xxx
They made it in time. The warriors rushed between orcs and a group of refugees, among which only four were armed. The others backed off, but the steep edge by the river gave them little space for escape.
The orcs were numerous, Amras had known that since they had decided with Celegorm to follow their trails, hoping to get to the elves before they were slaughtered. The sons of Feanor did not hesitate even for a moment, though they didn't have many warriors and their provisions were growing thin; every saved elf was important. Winter was coming and they were to return to the dwarves as well, as they had sent most of their warriors to protect refugees and help build temporary houses; the dwarves' caves were too small for all of them. Maedhros had left Maglor and Curufin and they were supposed get as independent as possible on their exile.
The fight was even. The elves were outnumbered, but they were the best scouts of the sons of Feanor, trained in battles – both Noldor and Sindar.
Celegorm prevented the orcs from escaping, while Amras and his elves made their way to the refugees. They sheltered the unarmed elves from the enemy, when a scream of terror came from the river.
Amras was the closest. He cut the nearest ork by the chest. He had no time to feel surprised by the fact that it was a child screaming, he just pulled her off the ground with his left arm, before an orc reached her with his sword. The elfling immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, hindering his movements. It was enough for the orc to cut him across his elbow before he fled with the others.
Celegorm hesitated for a moment, torn between the urge to chase the enemy and the necessity of making sure everybody was safe, but he stopped his warriors. There were too few of them to split. Celegorm hissed as he pressed hand to his hip, trying to count his elves and estimate the loses.
The refugees were picking up their possessions, still shocked by the attack and an unexpected rescue. One of the elleths was holding a boy by the hand. Now that the fight was over, the youngling was staring curiously at the warriors and he stopped only after being scolded.
Amras saw him helping with the luggage, but he had more oppressing problem. The child in his arms, much younger than the boy, was wailing, clinging desperately to him.
"Hush!" he hissed. "Shhh, it's alright now, but be quiet," he added more softly, as the elfling hiccupped, frightened by his harsh tone.
They had to leave and do it soon, before the orcs realised that the elves had wounded and thus were an easy target. The girl calmed and hid her face in his cloak, so Amras treated her like another package and just fastened his grip. He moved to the front of the group to lead the way.
xxx
They almost lost them. The brothers met the enemy and barely managed to rescue the elves they were after. So now not only did they have eight refugees, including three women and a youngling, but also wounded who had been trying to fight off some new poison for the last week. The breaking weather at the verge of Winter forced them to make a longer stay to let the sick regain some strength, especially that they didn't have a healer.
"There's one more detail." Maedhros waved his right arm carelessly. "We need to do something with this as well."
Caranthir cringed, hearing that indifference in his brother's voice again. Maedhros had not been given the time to mourn the dead then, when they were fleeing, or later, being hosted by the dwarves. Now, the closer they were to their kin, the more grim and silent Maedhros grew. It didn't help that Celegorm was feverish and Amras was sick and furious.
"We have wounded," Caranthir pointed out. "You'll put your arm on a sling and hopefully no one will pay attention. We shall try dyeing in the morning."
"Leave me out of it," said Amras, moving away from the brothers. "If you want this to work at all, I cannot go. Redhead or not, I will be recognized. I was here a few months ago."
He needed not to add anything else. If he was the one who had convinced people from that village to join their war, he was surely well-remembered.
xxx
They walked as quick as they could. The forest was dense at times, forcing them to seek a passage. Three Noldor went at the back of the group, as they still half expected an attack in the falling dusk. So it was only natural they all drew their swords as they saw some movements between the bushes, before they realised it was the rest of their scouting party. Amras sighed in relief, trying not to see his eldest brother's condemning look. It soon disappeared anyway, as Maedhros counted them and saw new faces.
His arm, with which he was holding the elfling, went numb. Amras crouched and put her on the ground.
"Ouch!" cried the child and tears welled up in her eyes.
"Where?" asked the elf sharply. He had a closer look and noticed a hole on the back of her jacket, in the stain of blood he thought was his own. "Let me see."
The girl stood in front of him, sniffling miserably as he undressed her from her dirty jacket and shirts under it. The blade that had slashed his elbow grazed her back as well. The cut was shallow, bur probably was the reason of crying. Amras cleaned it and put some ointment on, causing the girl to cry even louder. She quieted only after she was dressed again.
"Done. Was it really that bad?"Amras smiled friendly, looking at her like at some kind of treasure. He had not seen a child for so long...
The little one murmured something and reached her hand as if she wanted a hug, but the elf was already on his feet, looking for something in his bag. He found a bag of dried fruit and took out a few pieces of dried apple, now partly crushed. The girl followed his every movement, looking like she could burst into tears any moment.
"Eat." Amras decided to pay her a bit more attention. He suspected she had no relatives, as none of the refugees had taken interest in her. "It's good and sweet. Eat, you were brave," he encouraged her clumsily.
The child took the food obediently and started munching on it. Amras saw Maedhros livening up a bit among the new elves, helping them and asking for news.
Caranthir noticed the blood on his sleeve and helped him dress his elbow. The others were getting help as well. Amras thanked him shortly and turned swiftly, willing to talk to Maedhros, but he almost stepped on the girl who was standing behind him, holding the edge of his cloak.
"Oh." Caranthir smiled mockingly at his brother, seeing his surprise.
The child shied away and tried to hide under the cloak. Amras took it away from her reach and noticed she was shivering.
"Do we have something to make her a cloak?" he asked his brother, knowing he would know what provisions they still had.
"I'll find her something." Caranthir grabbed the child by the arm and led her to their luggage. Amras saw him tossing a blanket over her, but he left her in his brother's care and went back to his scouts. All of them were grim and silent, as they had lost a companion. They had left him there and they all knew there was no going back to bury him. No one complained, as they all understood the gravity of the situation, but Amras could see remorse that reflected his own.
They were quite lucky, considering eight new elves they managed to save. Aphedir died, Celegorm was wounded and one of his scouts had visible trouble walking, which could be a serious problem, but aside from them there were three other elves who got grazed by orc blades.
It could have been worse. Amras tried to tell himself so, doing his best not to remember there was Aphedir's sister waiting by Dolmed and he would have to tell her about his death.
Maedhros made him no reproaches. He had already managed to get to know the new elves and exchanged a few words with them. From what he had gathered, they came from various villages and met on road, then continued their journey, hoping to find a safe place to live.
"And the little one?" inquired Amras. "Not theirs?"
"No." Maedhros watched grimly as the new elves were trying to organize themselves. " They found her two days ago among corpses and barely convinced her to get out of her hiding spot. You can imagine what she witnessed. They said she has not uttered a word, they don't even know their name."
Caranthir appointed two elves to help with the luggage. The child Amras saved was sitting motionless, clutching the blanket she was covered with. Caranthir glanced once or twice and noticed she ate the food he had given her. He was glad she wasn't going in anyone's way. The girl pulled the blanket on her head and followed something with her wide eyes. Caranthir caught himself watching her, as he had little to do at the moment. Intrigued by the changes in her mood, he followed her gaze. He didn't need much to realise she was staring at his youngest brother, who was still circling their camp restlessly.
Maedhros gave an order to depart. The elves picked their luggage, with the exception of the wounded and those who were supposed to make sure no one was left behind. Someone grabbed the boy by his hand. The youngling was watching the warriors with amazement, while the little girl was just moving away, until someone took her blanket. Then she stood up and walked between the elves, adjusting her new cloak.
Someone realised the child would have to be carried too and he picked her. The girl made a surprised cry, then went silent and only tears were running down her cheeks.
"Amras." Caranthir called his brother, who seemed not to have noticed the child.
"Hmm?" The redhead glanced at him carelessly.
"Someone seems to prefer you," remarked the older of the brothers, smiling. It was a rare thing these days, a smile. He pointed at the girl frozen in the arms of a dumbstruck elf.
"Oh." Amras just shrugged and came closer, giving his bag to his brother. "Take it," he asked and took the child.
"You got promoted," smirked Caranthir, watching the silent girl wrap her arms around his brother's neck. Amras placed her on his hip to get more freedom.
"If it makes her quiet..."
xxx
"It seems we really have no choice," sighed Caranthir. "The little one has even stopped crying that she's not with you, Pityo. As far as I saw, she hasn't eaten anything."
"If she feels as sick as I do, then I can't blame her," muttered Celegorm sleepily from his bedroll and Amras nodded grimly.
It was one of Maedhros's elves who was taking care of the child this time. He was sitting close to the small fire and the girl was sleeping restlessly on his knees. Despite having been just grazed by the orc blade, she reacted to the poison worse than the adults. And as she had clung to Amras earlier, her current apathy was not a good sign.
"She needs a name." Celegorm propped himself up and glanced at the sleeping child. "It seems unlikely she will give us hers."
"Dinessel," replied Maedhros at once, as if he had thought about it earlier. "We'll see if she's going to react to that once she's better. Perhaps we will manage to make her talk to us."
"Take care of her, it would be pity to lose her." Amras moved from the wall and curled on his side, pressing his elbow to his stomach. "I'm staying here."
"But not alone." Maedhros tossed him one of the blankets that had already dried by the fire. "Is there anyone else who should not go to that village?"
"No. They are all dead," replied Amras numbly and turned away from his brothers, covering himself tightly with the warm blanket.
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