Fingon stood in his hall, motionless. He stared at the heavy wooden doors in front of him and waited until they would open. There was a restless shuffling of feet behind him, his guards felt the tension too. He understood their disquiet, his guests had a certain reputation. But he knew them better than most, even if it had been many years of the sun since he had last had a chance to speak to them in person, and he liked to think that he had nothing to fear from them. Still he could not quiet his own unease.

It was not that he did not want to see them, quite the contrary. It had been a long time now that he had been looking for an opportunity to speak to them both. He was at a point that he would have taken any chance to visit his friends. However there always was a reason not to leave this castle, and they had hardly been able to leave their own posts. They had all been stuck, guarding the borders, the passes, the mountains. For years they had tried to keep the peace. But now all was different.

He had been looking forward to their coming for a long time, but now he no longer did. What should have been a joyous occasion, might now herald difficulties and strife. Sorrowful events had made his cousins leave their lands, sorrowful events had made him invite them, and it looked like things would not improve soon.

A tug at his tunic woke him from his thoughts. Ereinion was looking up at him with those questioning silver eyes of him. He must have slipped away from his governess once again. Fingon forced a smile on his face and swept his boy off his feet. "Hey, what are you doing here? Did you come to see me?"

He did not get a reply and rested his forehead against the child's. "Is there anything amiss?"

"No father." Ereinion said, his little arms closing around his neck, "But you looked so sad."

Fingon inwardly cursed himself for his lack of self-control. "It is nothing little one, do not worry. Sometimes I miss grandpa Fin'fin a little."

"So do I." The fierce hug of the child did nothing to appease his mind, but he had to comfort his boy, so he started rubbing circles on his small back.

At the thud of the opening of the doors, he carefully put his son back on the ground. He did not bother to send him away; his guests were family after all.

When Maedhros marched through the door, Fingon looked at him with apprehension. His cousin's expression was unreadable to most, but he knew him far too well. The tension in his shoulders, the clenched fist and the fire that shone in his eyes did not bode well and he started to doubt his decision to keep Ereinion around. He put his hand on the boy's shoulder, "Penneth, go back to your room. I will call for you later, I promise."

Ereinion hesitated for a moment and glanced at the visitors, before he nodded and darted off. Fingon did not see where he went, he did not dare avert his eyes from his cousin. There were many possibilities on how this encounter could turn out, and he had gone over each and every one of them a thousand times the days before. He had tried to convince himself that all would be fine in the end, but now that he saw Maedhros' haunted look, he started to doubt if that truly would be the case.

"He has grown, Fingon." The sound of his cousin's voice made his heart jump. How he had missed him.

"He has." Fingon hesitated for a moment, Ereinion was a far too sensitive topic to discuss in public. Quickly he decided to stick to formalities. "Be welcome here, cousins. How was your journey?" The tension between them nearly made the air crackle. The fact that Maedhros had not properly greeted him yet, made him wonder what opposition he would face from the one that once bore the crown he now carried on his head.

Maedhros bowed his head and seemed to take a deep breath, but before he could answer, Maglor interfered. He had been hiding in the shadows, but now stepped forward and squeezed Maedhros' shoulder.

Then he knelt.

Fingon gasped as the bard's clear voice rang through the hall.

"We promise on our faith that we will in the future be faithful to Fingon, High king, as we were to his father before him, to never cause him harm and will observe our homage to him against all persons in good faith and without deceit. This we, Maedhros and Maglor Feanorion, promise in name of our people, our brothers and their vassals." *

A flicker of emotions crossed Maedhros' face as he sunk down on his knee next to his brother, followed by their entire retinue. "We promise." He repeated in his hoarse voice.

Fingon was taken aback, he could not shake off the feeling that Maedhros had not planned this. It took him a moment to find his voice again. "I, Fingon, son of Fingolfin, High King of the Noldor, make known to those present and to come that I accept this pledge of fealty, made by Maedhros and Maglor Feanorion in name of their peoples, brothers and vassals." He took a deep breath, "Now rise cousins."

As Maedhros got back on his feet, Fingon quickly closed the distance between them and fiercely embraced him. "You did not have to do this, but thank you…" Maedhros wordlessly nodded as he let go and Fingon moved to Maglor, embracing him too, "I think you took your brother by surprise, but I assume you had your reasons."

Maglor smiled and Fingon thought he had never seen him so weary as in that moment. "I had. We might have to discuss them later, my King. Now let us shed the dust from our travels, for my brother longs to talk to you, but let's make sure he is bathed and fed before you engage in those debates. I've all too often found that once the two of you start, there is no stopping you anymore."

Fingon grinned at that, half expecting Maedhros to sharply retort. However, the eldest merely threw Maglor a concerned glance, and Fingon wondered what was going on between the brothers.

With a flick of his hand, he called one of the servants nearer. "Show the lords Maedhros and Maglor their rooms, and make sure their men are cared for as well."

"Yes, Aranya." Fingon could not help flinching, he still did every time they addressed him thus.

"Take your time to refresh, I will have some food brought to my study, and I will be waiting for you there whenever you are ready."

The brothers nodded and followed the servant, while others guided the soldiers to their quarters. Fingon remained motionless for a long time, until the movement of a heavy curtain caught his eye. "You can come out now, Ereinion."

The boy appeared from behind the dark blue fabric and Fingon laughed at the guilty expression on his son's face.

"I should have realised that you would not be so easily dismissed. Come here!"

Staring at his feet, Ereinion shuffled nearer. When he came within his reach, Fingon put his hands on his son's little shoulders and knelt before him. "Do you understand what just happened?"

"Yes father, uncle Maedhros and uncle Maglor swore fealty to you."

"They did. Do you also know why this was important?"

The boy nodded, but did not speak. His little face was solemn as ever and Fingon cringed. Ereinion was far too serious for his age.

When he himself had been twelve, he had wandered through the streets of Tirion with Caranthir and Aegnor, forging mischief and climbing trees. Here his son was not even allowed to go beyond the castle walls. Ereinion spent his days studying and reading or practising his fighting skills in the carefully guarded courtyard. It was a harsh life for a child.

He had dwelled many times on how lonely it must be for the boy to grow up here at Barad Eithel, without a mother to care for him and no room for play. But when considering the options, he had always felt that it would be far crueller to separate the boy from his family. And somehow between his father and himself, they had managed to protect Ereinion from the worst, and he thought they had succeeded in making him as happy as a child could be in these dire times. However, all had changed now. Perhaps he would be able to grant his son a few years of carefree childhood, but it would come at a cost, as did all important things in life.

He did not scoff Ereinion for not obeying. He wanted to spend as much time as possible with him, and teach him all he knew while he still could; now was not the time to argue.

"Do you want to join us tonight? You may if you want to. Uncle Maedhros and I have many things to discuss, if you want, you can listen."

"I would like that, father."

"Very well then. Go change your clothing, Ereinion. I will see you in my study. Bring your harp, you can show me how you have progressed these last weeks, and perhaps – if you are lucky – uncle Maglor might give you some advice."

The boy nodded and disappeared again, and Fingon walked back to his study. The door softly closed behind him and he paused a moment in front of his library. He breathed the scent of old paper and let his hand dwell over the cracked spines, but his eyes did not truly register the volumes in front of him. It took him all his strength to push back the wave of despair that washed over him. He kept on repeating to himself that all would be well, that his cousins were here now and they had not even hesitated to swear their allegiance, against all expectations. He sank down behind his desk, idly staring at the letters in front of him. The unease at the back of his mind remained. The world was changing.


* the pledge of fealty is a free interpretation from a 12th century pledge to the count of Flanders