Disclaimer: The Silmarillion and all characters, places, and ideas there related are not in any way, shape, or form my own. They belong to the Tolkien Estate. No copyright infringement intended-I'm only playing with the characters, and promise to return them before dark.
Rating/Warnings: K+; rated K+ for mild danger
Time frame: Within a year of the Sack of Sirion.
A/N: This was based off of a tumblr .gif of Hugo Weaving prancing (from The Hobbit Extended Edition "behind the scenes" material). Someone was thoughtful enough to add the tag "sorry all i can see is him SPREADING HIS WINGS AND PRETENDING TO JUMP OFF A CLIFF"...and this was born. For the record, I hate you all.
This is my first actual Silm fic that I'm posting here. I'm still working on getting Maedhros and Maglor and...well basically what I'm trying to say is that any and all constructive criticism is much appreciated. Even just a simple "I liked it!" would be much loved and appreciated, as then I can at least know I'm doing something right! Most importantly, however, is I hope that you enjoy the tale.
~Oh Lord, Give Me Wings that I May Fly~
Maglor looked up sharply as his door burst open. Einiorol stood in the doorway, looking pale and worried, and breathing heavily as if he had come at a run. Maglor's anger evaporated, replaced with instantly with concern that bordered on fear.
"What is it?" he asked, standing up from behind his desk, and hurrying over to the door. "What happened?"
"It is Elrond," Einiorol panted. "Lord Maedhros bids you to come quickly."
"Where is he?" Maglor snapped, already hurrying from the room and down the corridor.
"He is carrying Elrond in now."
Maglor's pace quickened, until he was all but running through the halls, the guard following him loyally. His feet stumbled upon the stone steps that led down to the ground floor, and he forced himself to slow. It would do no one any good if he broke his neck by falling down the stairs.
He reached the entrance hall just as Maedhros came in, the dull, cloud-strewn afternoon light framing his back and causing his hair to blaze with a dull, crimson glow. A small shadow, identical to the one ghosting along at his feet, lay limply in his arms.
Maglor rushed forward, his worry momentarily overcoming all other thought. Who would have thought that he would come to care so much for the children of Eärendil and Elwing, he least of all? And yet the realization of the fear of harm having befallen one of those children swept through him, until it rivaled even the fear he had felt the first time he had heard that Celegorm had been harmed – more so, even, in a twisted sort of way, for these children were under his protection and care, and Celegorm had only been his little brother.
"What happened?" Maglor's voice came out low and strained, but Maedhros did not seem to notice. Indeed, he hardly seemed to register Maglor's presence at all, save for a single, sharp glance.
"The little beast jumped," he said gruffly, after a moment of silence in which Maglor thought that his brother would not even answer his question. Maglor, so taken by confusion, and attempting to sort out what Maedhros could mean by that, did not even realize that Elros, ever the stalwart protector, was silent, and did not even make an attempt to challenge Maedhros's name for his brother.
They passed out of the entrance hall and into the main corridor that linked both the east and west wings of the house together. Maedhros turned left at the fork in the hall, and then took a second left, crossing into the healing halls.
"Elros," Maglor said, looking down at the pale Peredhil following close to Maedhros's heels as they reached the door to the first healing ward, "go find Sílorn."
Elros turned wide, silver eyes upon his guardian. "But…" he began in protest, crossing his arms across his chest.
"Now is not a time to argue," Maglor barked. "Go find Sílorn. Now."
Elros turned and ran down the hall, heading toward the offices where the healer would most likely be. Maglor watched him go, making certain that he was indeed on his way, and then turned to open the door for Maedhros.
They entered the healing ward quickly, Maglor holding the door for his brother, and then following in after him quickly and allowing the door to slam shut behind him. Beds lined the walls, five on each side, with a small table and lamp beside each. The lamps on the walls were burning low, filling the room with as much shadow as light. White sheets covered each of the cots, with a grey blanket folded neatly at the bottom of each bed.
Maedhros carried his burden to the nearest cot, and then lay then unconscious child down upon the mattress with surprising gentleness. Elrond's head lolled against the pillow, but he whimpered in pain as he was set down.
Maglor knelt by the bedside, and at last got a good look at his charge. One of his legs was broken, and badly, the bone visible as it protruded from his shin. Blood soaked his pant leg, as well as trickled down his forehead, seeping from beneath his hair. Maglor's heart constricted and he reached out to tenderly grasp the child's hand. Maedhros stood behind his brother, not kneeling down, but not turning away either.
The door swung open, and Sílorn's limping footfalls entered the room. Maglor stood quickly, and moved aside to allow the healer access to the bed. Sílorn took one look at Elrond's still form before she turned and addressed Maglor and Maedhros, who stood at hand.
"His leg is going to need surgery, and at once, if it is to heal properly."
Maglor nodded once, curtly. "Do what you must. You will be able to heal him though?" he asked.
The healer smiled kindly, and nodded. "I hope so." She turned, and looked at Elros, who was hovering in the doorway uncertainly. "It would be best if you take his brother out, though, my lord," she added, turning back to Maglor. "He should not see this."
Maglor nodded distractedly, and then turned. "Come, Elros," he bade, and exited the room, ushering the older twin before him. Maedhros, after exchanging a series of hushed words with Sílorn, followed.
"I don't want to leave," Elros said, planting his feet and crossing his arms as soon as they were in the hallway. "Elrond needs me." Although his voice was loud and determined, upon closer look, Maglor could see that Elros was close to tears. He was pale, and his bottom lip was trembling, despite how hard he was holding it between his teeth.
"Elros," Maglor said softly, and quickly knelt in front of the distraught child. "I know you want to be with Elrond. But right now, others have to take care of him. His leg is very badly broken, and if it is not fixed, then Elrond may never be able to walk again."
"But," Elros began in protest, his voice wobbling now. "No. Elrond needs me," Elros insisted, his eyes now welling with tears.
"Elrond will need your help soon," Maglor agreed. "He will need you to help keep him company as he is confined to his bed, and later, he'll need you to help him regain the strength in his leg. But for now, there are some things that Sílorn can do that you cannot," Maglor said softly. "Let her help your brother."
Elros nodded, teeth still worrying his bottom lip. "Fine," he spat. And then he burst into tears, as the shock and fear finally overwhelmed him.
Maglor gathered the sobbing child into his arms, and stood, rubbing soothing circles on Elros's back as he crooned softly.
Elros fell asleep in Maglor's arms as his tears at last ran dry. Maglor laid him down on a conveniently placed bench, grunting to himself about how the child was far too old to be carried any longer, and then sat down as well, one hand resting on Elros's dark head. The door to the surgery that Elrond had been taken into was visible from the bench, and Maglor had long ago resolved not to move from the hall until word was brought of Elrond's condition. Sílorn had said that she would be able to heal his leg, but she had said nothing of the head wound that Elrond had apparently sustained, and it was that that was worrying Maglor the most as the minutes trickled into hours.
"You are lost in your thoughts." Maglor looked up quickly, to see Maedhros standing above him. He held three gently steaming mugs in his hands, which he quickly placed on the arm of the bench, before seating himself beside his brother.
"Hmmm," was Maglor's only response, as Maedhros handed him one of the mugs. He took a careful sip, and the pungent, yet relaxing taste of honeyed chamomile tea filled his mouth. "Thank you," he said, looking at his brother.
"No word of Elrond then, I take it?" Maedhros asked, his voice curiously gentle. Maglor shook his head, and Maedhros sighed.
"Don't tell me," Maglor said with forced gaiety, "you are beginning to like Elrond and Elros?"
Maedhros snorted. "I never said I disliked them," he said. "Although they are little monsters." A true smile quirked Maglor's lips at that.
The smile vanished a moment later. "You never truly told me what happened," he said. "You said that Elrond jumped, but not where, or why."
"He jumped off of the Dragon's Tongue," Maedhros said. Maglor's eyebrows shot up, and then he frowned deeply.
"Whatever possessed him to do that?" he wondered.
The Dragon's Tongue was a finger of rock that protruded from the tip of a cliff that rose a little more than a mile away from the fortress. A shallow pool fed by a natural spring lay below the Dragon's Tongue –deep enough to be able to swim in, it had been a favorite haunt during the warm summer months of much happier times. In those times, the pool had also been much deeper, and many an ellon had been dared to jump from the Dragon's Tongue into the swimming hole. With the passing of the years, however, the pool had widened and become increasingly more shallow, until none chanced that dare any longer, for fear of harm befalling any who jumped. While it was still deep enough to drown in, that danger was pertinent only if an elfling did not know how to swim.
Maedhros sighed and shook his head. "I do not know," he said. "You will have to question Elros, if you are to find the answer to that mystery."
"He was there then?" Maglor asked, his frown deepening. Why on earth had Elros not halted his brother from jumping? Unless it had been Elros who had urged Elrond to jump in the first place, an event that was not out of the realm of possibility.
"Yes," Maedhros replied simply. "It was Elros who found me. I was walking nearby, when I heard Elros screaming for help. Elrond must have struck his head during his fall, and when he did not surface from the water, Elros panicked."
"You know that he jumped though?" Maglor asked. "How do you know he did not simply fall?"
"Because that was all that Elros was babbling. "He jumped, he jumped…"."
Elros stirred, and then sat up blearily. "Wha's going on?" he mumbled sleepily, looking back and forth between Maglor and Maedhros. He rubbed on fist in his eyes, and then looked at them more sharply. "Elrond?" he asked hopefully.
"Nothing yet, penneth," Maglor said softly. He turned to Maedhros, and gestured for the third and final mug, which Maedhros handed to him without a word. "Drink this," Maglor said, in turn handing the mug of cooling tea to the child.
Elros took the mug and obediently took a drink. He pulled a face at the nearly bitter taste, but at Maglor's look, he took another sip.
"Elros," Maglor began, once the mug was half-drained, his own tea forgotten. "What happened? Why did Elrond jump?"
Elros stiffened, and he glanced quickly at first Maglor, then at Maedhros. His eyes dropped, and he fidgeted nervously.
"Elros," Maedhros said, warningly. "Maglor asked you a question."
"I don't know," he told them, but he refused to meet Maglor's gaze, and he fidgeted more, scuffing his feet against the floor.
"Elros," Maglor warned, "you know I do not accept lies. Now, what happened? Why did Elrond jump? Did you tell him to?"
"No!" Elros exclaimed, and looked up at Maglor, his eyes flashing. "I didn't, I promise. He just… He wanted to turn into a bird."
And suddenly Elros was angry. He leapt up, dropping the mug of tea. It shattered at his feet, but he did not even seem to notice. "This is your fault!" Elros shouted. "Everything is your fault! You took her away from us!"
And with a sudden, sick feeling in his stomach, Maglor understood.