I was supposed to translate another fic first, but it is just a tiny one-shot and this story has been nagging me to be translated.
Janrusling, you asked about this one some time ago. Here you go, there will obviously be more :)
Prologue
"For victory!" Maedhros raised his glass, the wine sparkling just like his eyes shone; gray, proud, strong despite Angband, despite the defeats in Bragollach and Nirnaeth.
They echoed him in this toast, their voices sure, their hearts hopeful. Blood pulsed in their veins, fire flowed under their skin; the Oath had awaken again and demanded action and they obeyed. The scarlet wine reflected in crystal, the setting sun cast bloody reflexes on their faces as they drank. For victory.
At that moment Maedhros was once again the eldest son of Feanor, proud, pushed forwards by the burden of his Oath. Caranthir had seen him like that years ago, when he had watched the Enemy from his walls on Himring, vigilant for the slightest motion. His eldest brother's fortress was grim, as was the commander – ever watchful. Only the defeat in Nirnaeth dimmed Maedhros's will, made them all wander aimlessly, trying to heal the battle wounds, knowing that the Enemy had thrown them on their knees and they were unlikely to rise.
But rise they did. They gathered all the forces they still possessed, they formed new troops. Though they were pitifully small comparing to the forces they had once had, they were still fearsome, disciplined and deadly for those who dared to stand in their way. And neither friend nor foe... The words of the Oath rang in their ears, the horses seemed to run to the rhythm of the words whispered more and more often as they approached their destination.
They rode to reclaim their heritage. Arm in arm they followed their eldest brother, who led their forces just like he had promised, like they had sworn to their dying father. The standards of Feanor were once again flying above the riders.