Title: This Way

Series: Tales of the First Age; Desperate Hours AU
Author: Susana
Disclaimer: All characters and everything else belong to Tolkien,

Beta: None, all mistakes are mine. But thanks to Kaylee for help with Sindarin and Quenya. Without you, I would be utterly lost with respect to the firstborn languages.

Summary: Lady Elwing's parting from her two small twin sons, Elrond and Elros

A/N: This is set in F.A. 538, on the night when the sons of Feanor came to the Havens of Sirion. Elrond and Elros were born in 532, so they are about six years old. I am assuming that they age more like humans than elves, but still a bit more slowly than humans, so I picture them as probably the equivalent of a human 4 and a half years old. But a very precocious four and a half years old.

Quote:

"Love is shown in your deeds, not in your words." -Fr. Jerome Cummings

Title: This Way

Elwing ran, two small hands clutched in her own hands. Elros on her right, tonight, rather than her left, because Elrond had sprained his left wrist yesterday afternoon.

She heard the screams behind her as the last of their brave defenders fell, but she could not think of that loss. Nor of the elves and men and children, friends and neighbors all, slaughtered in the streets of the Havens of Sirion. She would not react, not until her children were safe, and the attackers knew their objective had been put beyond their reach.

"Up, and in." She commanded her sons, reaching the path to the cave.

"But we're not allowed without an adult..." Elrond murmured, eyes wide and shocky. Even so, he remembered the rules, chapter and verse. He'd disregard them if he found a loophole and thought it worth their while, but he knew them.

"And El's hurt. He can't climb the last part." Elros protested, practical as always. He loved climbing up to the cave, and the forbidden bothered him not a bit.

"Go, now, ionnath-nin!" Elwing ordered sharply, "Help eachother, and STAY PUT. Do not come out for anything, until or unless you hear Uncle Cirdan, or cousin Ereinion, or Arandil, or Elain." She waited for their nods, and then she ran, ran as she had never run before. But carefully, taking the time to hide her trail. Silently, Elwing blessed Arandil, who hated violence but had taken up her sword lessons when her mother-by-law Idril had sailed. Who had insisted that Elwing learn to track and conceal her path even on the darkest of nights, because his unknown father had insisted Arandil learn thusly.

Soon enough, Elwing saw her quarry. Red hair streaming in the moonlight, two of the sons of Feanor, or their followers. Elwing neither knew nor cared which.

"Hey, you!" She yelled loudly, poising herself at the top of the path that led to the top of the cliff, at the base of which the ocean at high tide formed a whirlpool, deep and terribly treacherous.

Elwing waited until the handsome faces, contorted in battle rage, had turned her way, before adding, "You sons of orcs! Here's your silmaril! This way!" Then Elwing ran, night gown whipping around her legs. She heard them behind her, but too far, too far behind to catch her. Elwing was Earendil's friend as well as his wife, and she had loved running beside him. But the twins' birth had taken its toll, and she felt a stitch in her side and a pain in her knees as she approached the top of the cliff. She didn't look back; thanks to Arandil's relentless training, she knew how far behind her pursuers were, just from the sounds of their footfalls.

She did pause to hold the silmaril aloft so that the sons of orcs could see it clearly, but she did not hesitate. She just kept running until her feet touched only air. Then she took a deep breath, put her feet together and her arms at her sides, and prepared for the cold water. As she fell, she wished her last words to Elros and Elrond had been "tye melinye," or "im meleth ce" or even "I love you," in the language of her human father-by-law, Tuor. But more than that, she hoped her sons would live. And Elwing knew that she had done her very best, to give her sons a chance of surviving this night.

(Please review if you enjoyed. Constructive criticism also welcome! And thanks for reading.)

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