A/n & Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Tolkien's work.

Note: this story takes place right after the chaining of Melkor (i.e. still on the battlefield).

Regrets collect, like old friends.

Here to relive our darkest moments

I can see no way… I can see no way.

-Florence & the Machine

Bloodstained, muddied, and breathing heavily, that was how the young elven servant appeared before Eönwë in the Eldar's tent of meeting.

"I bring word from the Sons of Fëanor, my lord" he said bowing deeply, his voice quivering slightly.

"And what word might that be?" Eönwë replied, noting the servant's appearance. The was clearly Arenath, one of Maglor's closest and most trusted attendants, of this he had no doubt, but secretly, though he could not show it, was shocked at his appearance.

Arenath had come, muddied and blood covered, a black spray still fresh on his face – no doubt from a battle with an orc, or even two. His outer garments— the royal blue velour of the house of Fëanor traced with silver designs of the house of Maglor— were clearly torn from battle – but small imperfections of the cloth suggested his garments had been patched and sewn in places many times. Life had been hard for the wandering Noldorian Princes, of that there was no doubt, but it saddened Eönwë to see how far the house had fallen.

"They," Arenath paused and cleared his throat nervously, "My lords, Maglor & Maedhros," he corrected, "Princes of the Noldor, demand that the silmarills, wrought by their father, Prince Fëanor, should be sundered henceforth to them immediately, my lord."

"Do they?"

"Yes… yes, my lord." The elf said, fearing retribution.

Eönwë had expected as much. After all, now that Melkor was chained, and the jewels lay in their possession, it seemed natural that the brothers would come to lay claim to them once more.

But Arenath had come. And Eonwe knew what that meant.

"Go," Maglor said angrily waving his servant off, "Get out of here!" He continued storming off to his rooms in the east wing.

"Maglor!" The servant pleaded, calling after him.

"No. Go! I release you. Your duties to me and this household are finished. Get out of here while you still can."

Maglor felt a hand grab his arm and turn him around. "No."

"Arenath!"

"Maglor!" he returned with equal fervor.

"You can't stay here. You know you can't" Maglor said freeing his arm from Arenath's grasp.

"You know I can't leave."

"Yes, you can and you have to. Now. Before…" His eyes wandered out the window to where his youngest brothers and his father prepared their horses and their bags for travel.

Arenath turned his head and looked in the direction Maglor's gaze had drifted to.

"And that is why I cannot leave."

"You have no interest in this." Maglor replied meeting Arenath's eyes.

Arenath shook his head, "You're right. I don't."

"Then why?"

Arenath thought, remembering all the times they'd been together over the years. Getting in to trouble, getting out of trouble. The long afternoons spent as friends. The time he'd hid Maglor from a wrathful Maedhros over some sort of silly childhood prank. The time Maglor saved him from the wrath of Feanor. There was no question.

Arenath looked back at him incredulously.

"Are you sure?"

Arenath nodded.

"If you stay, your service will be to me alone. I will not have you take part in this dreadful oath— unless that be your will." Arenath nodded. They both smiled.

"My friend." Maglor smiled, clasping arms in the warrior fashion.

Now, here in this place, Eönwë noted, Arenath knelt, worried and fearful. The brave servant. The wise friend. He had no interest in this war. Eönwë knew that.

And so it was out of pity that, Eönwë finally said, "You will deliver this message, to your lords."

A/n: Okay, so if you didn't notice I re-wrote this chapter. I included the whole backstory with Arenath (and no, nothing is going on between Maglor and Arenath, if that wasn't clear before). I hope you like this re-write and you'll tell me what you think. I've been working on drafting the next couple of chapters … and it's a long story (the reason for the delay), but just pester me. I'll keep it going. Thanks, guys!

P.s. Florence & the Machine Lyrics not mine either. Thanks.