Hello there, before you start reading, I would just like to state that none of this here belongs to me. It all belongs to the genius you all know as Tolkien. Certain artistic licence will be taken certainly, but I shall try remain as true to the book as is possible.

Because little is known of the twins before the start of the second age, I must admit I'm not fully certain that all my dates etc are correct. If you spot any mistakes, and have any other sources, do let me know and I'll be eternally grateful.

Now that I've rambled on enough, do commence reading. I know it's short, since I split my chapter into two, and I've been a bit busy trying to mug all my stuff... but read and review and I shall update as soon as I can. My finals are coming up so I'm a little tied for time. I've written out the next part, but I haven't been able to type it out and format it. One must always try their best, though.

So much for having rambled enough… My apologies *grins* Do go on, the story starts… just below. Enjoy.

Chapter One – To flee

Framed by the flickering flames as the ground behind was razed to the grounds, a single rider on a dark horse emerged from the gloom. Pulling his horse to a halt, he stopped next to another rider, almost alike to himself in face.

"We lost it," he said abruptly, with barely controlled anger. Taking a deep breath, he ground his clenched fist into his horse's back. "When Elwing jumped, she took the Silmaril with her. She is gone now, far beyond our reach, both she and the Silmaril."

Maglor shifted on his steed, turning his head such that he could look at his brother. "I know. I was there, remember?" When Maedhros gave no indication of having heard him, Maglor shifted once more, this time looking back towards the burning town.

"It has been for nothing, then," Maglor pronounced rather sadly, his eyes distant as he gazed at the still dancing flames.

Maedhros' eyes darkened at Maglor's words. "It has not been in vain," he hissed from between clenched teeth, "I will not let it be in vain. Amrad and Amras died today for this cause. By my blood, I swear that I will have the Silmaril."

Maglor's head jerked up and he looked sharply at his Maedhros, eyes narrowed. "Have you not had enough, brother?" Taking a deep breath, he continued bitterly. "Twas an oath that has diven us thus far. Nay, we have had enough of sharing."

When Maedhros stayed silent. Maglor tilted his head slightly, "What then of the Peredhil? What fate shall Eärendil's sons come to, having lost both their parents?"

Maedhros' expression darkened further still, making Maglor think that he meant to leave the twins to die, as they had Elwing's brothers. Before he could protest however, Maedhros announced abruptly, "Find them. Mayhap Elwing will return in search of her sons; and if they are held by us, what then?"

Maglor said nothing, but his eyes betrayed his thoughts. You mean to keep them hostage.

"Aye," Maedhros confirmed, "we have something she wants, and she has something we want. Perhaps we can strike a bargain."

Maglor turned, dismounting and heading back towards where he had last seen the sons of Eärendil. Ai brother, he thought mournfully, has there not been enough. Why must we drag innocents into this, why must be further taint our hands? Nonetheless, Maglor continued back towards the house.

Once there, he paused by the doorway before entering. Two identical faced greeted him, their owners frozen in fear. The twin boys looked to be about six, but Maglor knew them to be only four.

Tis the edain blood, he thought, crouching down before one of them. "You must be the sons of Elwing."

When the young child stared back silently at him, eyes large in his pale face, Maglor sighed, rocking back on his heels and cursing his ill luck in having to deal with the children.

"Where is ammë?" the other child asked, frightened, "why did she leave us alone so suddenly?"

Thank Ilúvatar, Maglor thought gratefully. At least one of them talks. Turning slightly so that he could face the second twin properly, Maglor said regretfully, "Aye, young one, your ammë has left. Come with me, for you have no home now."

"You're one of the sons of Fëanor," the first child announced somewhat contemptuously, his eyes dark as he gazed at Maglor, "you drove ammë to her death."

"Not death, young one. Your ammë was rescued by Ulmo, Lord of the Waters and lifted beyond us by a far greater power. Now come, it draws late, and we should leave."

Standing, Maglor reached out a hand to each of the twins, eager to leave before any further aid for the Havens arrived. To his utmost annoyance, neither child accepted his hand, the first twin sill staring at Maglor in distrust and the second hanging back, unsure.

Heaving a sigh to himself, Maglor bent down and scooped each of them up with one arm before hurrying out to the streets once more, ignoring the futile struggles they were putting up.

Outside, he was met by Maedhros who stopped short upon seeing the two small figures he carried. "The sons of Eärendil," Maglor told him evenly, "as you requested. Their names –"

Maglor paused. Frankly, he had no idea what they were called. In fact, he had no idea which one was the older either. Before he could ask the children however, Maedhros had interjected impatiently, "They are hostages. They have no need of names. Call them…" He glanced at the silent twin on Maglor's right, and the scowling one on his left, "Dîn and Rûth. We ride out now."

Maglor sighed silently. Will you then strip them of the only thing left to bind them to their parents, brother? In slight amusement, the younger of the two siblings shook his head. "Dîn and Rûth indeed. Thank the Valar you never had children, brother. For you would not know what to name them."

From the expressions on the faces of the twins, Maglor could tell that neither had expected to be renamed thus. However, they did not complain and merely frowned.

As Maedhros walked back to the rest of their company, Maglor followed, still carrying the brothers.

Having reached the outskirts of the town, Maglor mounted his stallion, handing the twins to a captain and telling him to watch them. Then, both the last remaining sons of Fëanor rode off into the slowly lightening horizon, Maedhros' face impassive as he considered the impact of having lost the Silmaril and Maglor's face shadowed as his thoughts alternated between the twins and their mother.

Hi, it's me again. So what do you think? Do drop a short note and just let me know. I've got some other plots just waiting to be written and I'm waiting till after my papers. Till then however, I shall inch on in this particular fic. It's a great stress reliever.

Till then, do read and review. Thanks.