I'm back! A little later than I wanted, but the computer I was using decided it was going to be as evil as Sauron and deleted all of my work I had... . That was frustrating.
Anyway, so here's the next chapter. Again, reviews are much appreciated, especially if you have some constructive criticism. You have no idea how much they help.
That being said, lot of Elrond in this chapter. Hope you enjoy!
~Duplicity~
Turgon frowned severely as he stared down at the parchment in his hands. It held no important information. At least, the information he was searching for. Setting the letter down, Turgon picked up another, then another, checking the corner of every single paper he went through.
Still nothing.
Sighing, Turgon dropped his head into his hand, glaring down at his desk.
Honestly, was it truly so difficult to find what he was searching for?
He blamed Maglor and Aredhel for putting him through this. Because Aredhel had asked him the same question Maglor had asked her, Turgon found the question plaguing his mind as well, and he couldn't rest because of it. Normally, he wouldn't busy himself over one small question, but curiosity had gotten the best of him and Turgon had immediately set out to answer it.
When he still couldn't find what he was searching for, Turgon pushed his chair back, slumping back into his seat and burying his face in his hands. Exhaling deeply, Turgon blinked away the sleep that clung to him. He was tired, but wouldn't be able to sleep until he found the answer to this accursed question.
He rubbed his tired eyes, unaware that Findekano and Nelyo were watching him in the corner of their eyes with concern.
The Elfling Elrond was on the floor between them, playing with the toys Nelyo had borrowed from Ambarto and Pityo. The twins had been more than happy to loan a fellow Elfling some toys, as long as they got to play with him too. Turgon had nearly had a heart-attack when Nelyo entered the room with Elrond, asking if they knew who Elrond's father was. Findekano had shaken his head and Turgon carefully replied that he did. He promised Elrond that he would take him to his Father when his Father returned from the market.
It wasn't a complete lie, seeing as Maglor was planning to go to Tirion later that day. Thankfully, no one questioned him even more about the Father.
Turgon's eyes fluttered, the Elf fighting to stay awake. Elves normally wouldn't tire so easily, but he had been stressing and worrying so much it wore him out. Shaking his head, Turgon refocused on his task. If he could just solve this little mystery, that would be fantas-
"Turu," Findekano's quiet voice broke into his thoughts. Turgon didn't look his way, only making a sound of acknowledgement.
"Hm?" He shuffled through a few more papers, hoping he would find something.
If what he was looking for wasn't in any of these papers, Turgon wouldn't hold himself accountable for what he may do next.
"Is..." Findekano began, trailing off when Turgon dropped his head against the desk with a loud 'thump!' An irked growl sounded afterwards, and both Nelyo and Findekano gave him an odd look. What on Eru's green earth was wrong with the normally calm and peaceful Turu?
"How difficult is it to find out what accursed year it is!?" Turgon exasperatedly asked aloud, sighing in irritation. "How could I be so irresponsible as to not write the dratted date on my notes!?"
Elrond glanced his way, humming cheerfully under his breath as he figured out what to do with his figurines. Deciding that going to comfort the upset Elf was a better idea, Elrond stood and wandered over to the desk Turgon was seated at. Sympathetically patting the taller Elf's knee, Elrond offered silent comfort. Turgon shifted so that he could see Elrond then sat up, reaching down and picking up the small Elfling. Setting him down in his lap, Turgon patted his head as thanks. Elrond, who normally did not allow anyone to ever pick him up or touch him, allowed this. He felt rather comfortable with Turgon. He had met the tall Elf when his Atto brought him to Healer Nalara, and had decided that he liked him. His Atto seemed to trust him a lot, so he knew this Elf had to be friendly.
Both, however, couldn't help but feel a strange familiarity about each other. There was something about Elrond that reminded Turgon of Tuor. He didn't know what it was, whether it was the man-like features Elrond had or something else.
He would have to ask Maglor about Elrond's true parentage. He was curious to know who's descendant Elrond was. He had to be related to them in some way.
Perhaps he should have taken up Lady Vairë's offer on learning what was happening in Middle-Earth after his death. He certainly was regretting not having done so.
"Elerondo," Turgon murmured, just loud enough for the Elfling to hear him. Elrond tipped his head up in question, gazing into Turgon's grey-blue orbs. "I don't know why I'm asking you this, but would you happen to know what year it is?"
Findekano shot a look of immense concern in Nelyo's direction. His brother didn't know what year it was? Nelyo wasn't facing him, however. He was giving Turu and Elrond an odd and suspicious look, looking from the Elfling to Turu and frowning thoughtfully.
Findekano nearly gaped. Surely Nelyo was suspecting that Turu was Elrond's Father.
My...That would be shocking.
Or was there something else Nelyo noticed that he didn't?
"You no know year?" Elrond innocently inquired, a bit surprised. Turgon was a fully grown Elf and he didn't even know what year it was? But, big Elves knew everything! At least, that's what he believed. Atto and Atar did. He would listen when Elros would ask them multiple questions about various subjects and Atto and Atar would always have an answer to them.
If there was anyone smarter than Atto and Atar, it was Erestor. That Elf had to know everything!
"I'm exhausted and can't seem to think clearly, little one. So, no, I don't know what year it is as of this moment." Turgon answered, correcting the Elfling's grammar without calling him out on it.
"Oh." Elrond nodded, sounding as if Turgon had explained something important to him. "Okay. It 1449. That what Aunty says." Elrond answered Turgon, comparing his tiny hands to Turgon's larger ones. He marveled at the size difference. Turgon's hands were smaller than Nelyo's but still twice the size of his.
"1449." Turgon repeated, nodding slowly. "Thank-you, Little one, that was-" He cut off sharply when he realized what Elrond had just told him.
1449.
"It's 1449!" He exclaimed, and Elrond started in surprise at the alarm coating his voice. "Then it is the time!"
So the project Fëanaro was working on the Silmarils. There time was running out.
"Time?" Elrond asked, voicing the question that had also crossed Nelyo and Findekano's minds, tracing the patterns of Turgon's sleeve. Turgon only distractedly patted his head again.
"Not good. Where is Mag- Makalaurë?" He wondered aloud, his gaze drawn to the doors of the room they were in. "I have not seen him for the entire day."
Nelyo sipped some water from his glass, watching Turgon analytically, his eyes narrowing when Turgon mentioned his brother's name. Makalaurë and Turukano had grown rather close, almost like Findekano and himself. It was a little odd.
"The Lord Makalaurë was in the kitchens last I saw him, my Lord." A new voice answered Turgon's question.
Everyone turned to see an unfamiliar she-Elf entering the room, holding a few papers in her hands. Turgon, finding that he recognized the voice, immediately turned in his chair to see if it was indeed who he knew it to be. His brows shot up when he found it to be Thuringwethil herself, dressed up as a servant walking to the middle of the room and setting the papers down on the desk he was sitting at.
The surprise lingering in Turgon's gaze quickly vanished when Nelyo and Findekano glanced his way.
"Ah, thank-you..?"
Thuringwethil, her back turned to Findekano and Nelyo, performed a small curtsy, smirking up at Turgon with laughter shining in her dark brown orbs.
"Ümbara, my Lord."
"Ümbara."
Thuringwethil bowed this time, the smirk never leaving her changed features. Her gaze fell onto Elrond, who was staring at Thuringwethil with awe.
"Hello there." She greeted him, and Elrond shyly returned the greeting. She tilted her head at him, watching as Elrond debated whether or not he was going to ask her something. She could tell he wanted to, but his shyness was holding him back. She patiently waited, and Turgon could see the distaste of pretending to be a servant in the way she held herself.
"Your have grey hair." Elrond commented, staring at the odd-colored hair Thuringwethil had. Thuringwethil lips twitched upwards at this, and a grin blossomed on Turgon's lips when Elrond flushed in embarrassment. "Sorry...I never seen grey hair before." He explained himself, looking down at the ground, a tinge of red dusting his cheeks. "It like snow, but it isn't..."
"Quite alright." Thuringwethil accepted his apology, reaching out to ruffle his hair. Elrond's eyes snapped back up to her, pouting as he went to fix his hair. "A lot of people find my hair color strange."
"It not strange!" Elrond immediately protested, nose crinkling. Who could say such a thing about her hair? "Only odd."
Thuringwethil quirked an eyebrow. "Odd?" That was better than it being strange?
"It unique." Elrond corrected himself, firmly believing his statement. It was unique. It was odd, but it wasn't strange. It was different.
Turgon chuckled. The innocence of little Elflings. It was a precious thing to see. From what he had learned from Maglor, Elrond had always been an accepting person. He had been the first to really, truly, warm up to he and Maedhros after Elrond and Elros had been taken as 'hostages.' His home, Imladris, was open to everyone. He accepted people as they were. He was never overly critical, but he had his own opinion about everyone and everything.
"Why thank-you." Thuringwethil said, forcing herself to sound very pleased. She did appreciate Elrond's compliment, but forcing herself to be the bright and cheery servant she most certainly was not was rather difficult. Turgon couldn't help but snicker, earning a deadly look from Thuringwethil. One that promised him that if he laughed at her one more time, she would end him right then and there.
He coughed, disguising his laughter, though his amusement was obvious in the expression he wore.
Elrond hummed happily, returning his attention to Turgon's sleeve, studying the embroidery and fun patterns decorating it.
"Now, if you will excuse me, I must attend to the Lady Nerdanel's workroom." Thuringwethil excused herself, bowing once again and gliding out of the room. Turgon noted, with growing amusement, that she also wore a dress.
Thuringwethil must be regretting her decision of becoming a servant, but it was the only thing they could think of that would help their small group out. It would be easier to find Thuringwethil and communicate with her when they needed to. It would also be less suspicious and conspicuous. They would have to limit their interactions during the day, but if anything were to suddenly come up, Thuringwethil would be reached in little to no time at all.
It had been Nerdanel who had asked Fëanaro to hire Thuringwethil, after Maglor had overheard his Mother's conversation with Nelyo about needing a helping hand in her sculpturing and around the house. Maglor had suggested this to them the night before- Thuringwethil becoming a servant, and the Vampire reluctantly agreed. She knew it was for the best, and it was better than being a servant of Morgoth.
That was one problem solved.
The other was Aredhel and himself.
What of them? Their visit would come to an end shortly, and they would return to Tirion with Finwë. The Feast had passed, much to their relief, but there was one other celebration approaching seeing as the holidays were closing in. After the holidays, they would be gone.
He supposed he, Aredhel, Maglor, Caranthir, and Thuringwethil could meet up sometime in the marketplace, but they couldn't do that everyday.
He sighed. So many problems they had yet to take care of.
"Are you upset?" Elrond's small voice drew Turgon from his thoughts, and the former king of Gondolin peered down at the Elfling in his lap. Elrond was looking up at him, brown eyes filled with concern. He smiled at the Elfling, shaking his head.
"I have many things on my mind, little one." He explained to him, faintly recalling the many times he had held Idril in the same manner he held Elrond. He felt like he was a parent again, raising little Idril...
That was another thing about Elrond, Turgon realized. He was much like Idril. It was uncanny, and a little unnerving with how much he reminded Turgon of both Tuor and Idril.
"Oh." Elrond's lips thinned. "So, not upset?"
Turgon thought over the question. "No." he slowly answered. "Not upset. Only tired."
"Ah." Elrond curtly dipped his chin, as if he understood what Turgon meant by being tired. "You should play. Or talk." Elrond suggested, with such childlike seriousness. "It help a lot."
Turgon blinked at Elrond's insight. The Elfling had seen right through him and had understood him perfectly. As strange as it was, Turgon found it amazing. At such a young age, Elrond was very perceptive and could read into the hidden meanings behind every word someone would speak. A quality that would help him greatly in the long-run.
"How do you know?" Turgon asked him, genuinely curious.
"I find out." Elrond answered him, speaking very slowly, thinking through his words before speaking them. "When I upset, or 'tired,'" He emphasized the word 'tired,' like he was telling Turgon that he knew what he had meant by his use of the word, "I play. Or I talk. It help me, I sure it can help you." He told him.
Turgon regarded the Elfling with a small amount of disbelief. He could sense Nelyo and Findekano's amazement as well, and could hardly blame them.
"I talk to Elros."
"Your brother?"
"Twin." Elrond instantly corrected. "And Atto talk to Maedhros and Maedhros talk to Atto. They talked all the time when they thought we sleeping."
Nelyo's eyes swiveled over to Elrond upon hearing the name 'Maedhros' again. Who in Varda's name was this Maedhros everyone but he seemed to know?
Turgon chuckled at Elrond. "You are wise for your young age, Elerondo."
Elrond beamed.
His attention was quickly snatched away from Turgon when the door to the room was opened once again.
"Moro!" Elrond exclaimed brightly, leaping down from Turgon's lap and racing over to the poor, unsuspecting Elf that had entered the room.
Caranthir was victim to one of Elrond's more-than-enthusiastic hugs, causing him to nearly trip and fall onto the ground.
"Elerondo," Caranthir all but grunted out, awkwardly patting Elrond's head. Elrond smiled brightly up at him. He had met Caranthir briefly when Maglor had dragged him down to the Healers to meet him. At first, he wasn't sure if he would like the Elf, his uncle, but Caranthir reminded him of grown-up Erestor. "What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for Atto." Elrond responded, glancing behind Caranthir in the hopes of seeing his Father. "Where is he?"
Caranthir shrugged. "No idea. He was in the kitchens earlier-"
Turgon's eyes shot over to where Nelyo and Findekano, hoping against hope that they wouldn't realize that Caranthir had just given away who Elrond's Father was.
"But I believe he left to go to Tirion."
Turgon relaxed slightly, but still held his breath when Findekano's expression warped into a suspicious one, mulling over Caranthir's words.
"Attooooo!" Elrond moaned, arms still wrapped around Caranthir's knees, clearly upset.
"What is wrong with you?" Caranthir questioned, reaching down and trying to unwrap Elrond's arms. The Elfing had a different idea. When Caranthir managed to escape his hold, Elrond latched onto his arm, trapping Caranthir once again. Caranthir tried to shake him off, but Elrond never relinquished his hold, giggling when Caranthir growled.
"You are an annoying pest."
"I know."
"You do?"
"Yes." Elrond replied, grinning. "Maedhros call me 'annoying pest' too! And Atto. But they never mean it, which mean you no mean it either!"
Caranthir blinked, but quickly recovered himself, snatching Elrond up and dangling him upside down. "You are most certainly an annoying pest that must be dealt with." Caranthir hated to admit it, but if he had a weakness, it was for Elflings. And Elrond was no exception. The bright-eyed, loving child had wormed himself into the dark-Elf's heart in record time.
Elrond shrieked when Caranthir tossed him onto the couch, bouncing a couple of times.
The door swung open again to reveal two golden and black-haired Elves peeking into the room with confusion. Tyelko and Curvo's eyes landed on the giggling Elrond who had latched onto Caranthir once again, tormenting the poor Elf.
Realization was reflected in their eyes as they entered the room with Ambarto and Pityo in their arms. "I was wondering who was laughing." Tyelko told everyone, curiously watching Caranthir attempt to get Elrond to release him. "Who is this new Elfling?"
Turgon looked to see Nerdanel enter with Nolofinwë and Finwë, who also were intrigued by the unfamiliar laughter they had overheard. Nerdanel smiled at the sight of Caranthir 'playing' with an Elfling she found she did not recognize.
Elrond, hearing the inquiry, tipped his head up to see Tyelko, a wide smile stretching his tiny mouth. "I Elerondo!" He introduced himself, kicking his legs wildly as he tried to escape the hold Caranthir had trapped him in. Caranthir smirked when Elrond found that he was helpless and couldn't escape. He went slack in his hold, allowing himself to be held by the dark-Elf.
"Hello there, little Elerondo." Nerdanel greeted, and Elrond returned the greeting, completely forgetting his shyness. Caranthir seated himself on the couch, allowing Elrond to slip out of his hold. Elrond didn't move away from him, however, choosing to cuddle against his favorite uncle and clinging to his arm. Caranthir cracked open an eye to glare down at him, but made no move to remove him.
Everyone watched with amazement, wondering who this Elfling could be for Caranthir to be so relaxed with him.
"You have an accent I do not recognize, child." A new voice sounded, and Turgon nearly jumped when he found Fëanaro had silently entered the room behind everyone else.
Trepidation settled within him.
What if Maglor were to come here and find Elrond? The entire family would discover that Elrond was Maglor's son and then Maglor would have to explain everything about the Elfling to them.
A part of him was interested in finding out how the family would react to the news, but another part of him was wary.
He supposed whatever happened would happen.
Elrond peered up at Fëanaro and felt a sense of nervousness settle over him. This newcomer looked rather intimidating. His blue eyes were intense and burned brightly, and his dark ebony-colored hair only added to it. There was a fire that blazed fiercely within this new Elf Elrond though looked a lot like his Atto.
"Accent..?" Elrond repeated, his voice a ghosting whisper. He tried to make himself smaller by cuddling closer to Caranthir, wide brown eyes watching Fëanaro.
Fëanaro's expression was stoic, not allowing anyone to see how he felt or what he thought, but he regarded this new Elfling with slight curiosity. His tone was grave, nearly monotonous as he explained, "The manner in which you speak is unlike anything I have heard." His interest was piqued. With Fëanaro being a linguist, hearing the strange accent coating the Elfling's words intrigued him. Where did this Elfling come from and why was he here?
Elrond's nose scrunched up in confusion, his brow furrowing with worry. "How I speak?" He rephrased Fëanaro's question. "I speak badly?" He questioned. He knew his grammar was bad, Valar, it sometimes drove Erestor up the wall, but he had been doing his best to perfect his Quenya.
"Quenya isn't your first language, is it, child." Fëanaro stated rather than questioned. Elrond hesitantly shook his head and Turgon worried his lower lip. Leave it to Fëanaro to pick up on this.
"What is your first language, then?" Nerdanel asked, wanting to learn more about this mysterious Elfling.
Elrond tugged on Caranthir's arm, meeting the dark-Elf's gaze. Turgon could see the silent question brewing in those chocolate-colored orbs. One that asked Caranthir if it was okay for him to answer Fëanaro's question.
Caranthir drew his eyes up to meet Turgon's, a sense of reassurance hidden behind them, and parted his lips to speak, "Elerondo is visiting his aunt from the far Eastern Coast of Aman." He expertly interjected, directing everyone's attention to himself and leading them away from their previous inquiries.
It worked, Turgon found, silently thanking Caranthir for changing the subject.
"Oh! Then you must have traveled for quite some time!" Nerdanel commented, clasping her hands together. "Who is your aunt, child?"
Elrond found that he quite liked this nis. She looked cheerful and fun. Her eyes sparkled and her smile was welcoming.
"Nalara." Elrond answered. Nerdanel looked surprised.
"Truly? Oh! You must be the son of her sister then! How wonderful!"
Elrond bashfully nodded, though there was a hint of confusion glittering in his grey orbs.
"I didn't know Nalara's sister had come to visit." Nerdanel told Fëanaro, who responded with a weak shrug.
"Her sister didn't." Caranthir corrected. "Her brother-in-law."
Nerdanel formed an 'o' shape with her lips. "Oh. I do hope Nalara introduces us to him, then. They are welcome to visit."
Taking a seat next on the couch across the one Caranthir and Elrond were seated on, Nerdanel continued to question Elrond. Fëanaro followed Nerdanel, gracefully sitting beside her and paying some attention to the small conversation taking place.
"How old are you, little one?"
Elrond's gaze flickered over to Turgon with some small amount of panic. He knew he couldn't say six, because that wouldn't make sense to grown-up Elves.
Full-blooded Elves, at least, Elrond darkly thought to himself.
Turgon came to his rescue, as Elrond had been pleading for him to, mouthing the number, 'nineteen,' to him.
Elrond dutifully repeated the number aloud.
"Oh my!" Nerdanel blinked. "You are as tall as Nelyo was when he was your age! I thought you were older than nineteen!"
Turgon gave a small breath of relief. He'd forgotten that his Aunt and Uncle had had Nelyo as an Elfling. From what he had heard, Nelyo had been pretty tall for his age. Taller than his age-mates. He could tell that it had to be true since Nelyo practically towered over everyone. Finwë was still the tallest, by a fraction of an inch, but none of them would have been surprised if Nelyo had ended up being taller than him.
Elrond glanced over at Nelyo in question, and Nelyo nodded.
"I was almost as tall as my Atto when I was forty." He told Elrond, watching as the Elfling's eyes widened.
"Woah..." Elrond breathed, amazed, then he studied Nelyo quizzically. "Can you stand?"
The question confused everyone but Nelyo, who understood Elfling language far better than everyone in the room having spent years translating his brothers' gibberish and broken sentences when they were younger.
"I can." Nelyo unfolded his legs from underneath him and swiftly stood up, wondering why Elrond would have wanted him to.
Elrond's already wide eyes widened even more and his jaw dropped in amazement. "You as tall as Maedhros! It impossible!" He exclaimed, shocked.
"Truly?" Nelyo asked, genuinely meaning his question. "Who is this Maedhros?"
Elrond's jaw snapped shut at the question, then he ecstatically answered Nelyo's question. "Maedhros is scary Elf who take care of my twin and me!"
The corner of Caranthir's lip twitched at Elrond's words and his eyes reopened so that he could watch Elrond happily tell everyone who his beloved Maedhros was. His happiness was contagious, and the way he spoke of Maedhros with such adoration and love made everyone else smile. Even Fëanaro cracked a small smile as he listened to Elrond tell them stories of big, strong, Maedhros watching over he and his brother and their Atto.
"He care for us, I know he does. He no show it, but I hear him check on us at night. When he think we sleeping, we hear him question Atto about us." Elrond's grey orbs shone brightly. "He one who wanted El and I to get tutor so we learn. When we got a teacher, we learn Quenya." Here, Elrond frowned embarrassingly, twisting his hands in front of him. "My Quenya no good, but I try! El no try because he no want to." Elrond shook his head, tsking his brother for his rebellious behavior.
Nerdanel giggled while the others chuckled.
"One time, El and I went to play outside." Elrond continued on, the memory of the story he was about to tell fresh in his mind. "We no listen to Atto when he say to stay in gates. We wanted to see out of gates." His cheeks flushed, and the Elves could see that he was internally lecturing himself about not listening to his Atto. "Atto gone to visit city far away, and we left with Maedhros. He no happy about it, but he agree to because Atto ask."
"Are Maedhros and your Atto close friends?" Nolofinwë asked the Elfling, wanting to learn more about these mysterious Elves he was hearing about. Nelyo also leaned forward, also wanting to know the answer to this question. There was something in his eyes Turgon found he didn't like.
It was a sense of knowing, a look of suspicion that made Turgon think he was catching onto something their small group wouldn't want him to.
Elrond nodded multiple times. "Atto and Maedhros close friends. Brothers."
Nelyo's eyes narrowed on Elrond, scanning the Elfling with critical eyes, searching for something Turgon wasn't sure he would find.
"Maedhros." Finwë parroted quietly. "A strange name."
"He change it." Elrond explained to Finwë. "I no remember what his name was, but he change it to Maedhros." Even when he said this, Elrond had a feeling he did remember what Maedhros's name used to be. He'd heard it before, and recently... But where?
"Interesting." Nolofinwë commented, pondering over the odd name. It didn't sound at all Quenya, but no one could think of what origin the name could have been derived from. "Continue on with your story, little one."
Elrond happily did. "Well, El and I went outside the gates..."
~Duplicity~
"Come on, El!" Elros urged his twin, tugging Elrond by the arm and leading them further away from their home. They had been there long enough to call it home now, but it still didn't quite feel like one.
Of course, Elrond didn't even know what a home felt like. He didn't have a Father he or Elros could turn to when they had troubled and they didn't exactly have a Mother. Their Nana had always been too busy with the pretty jewel she used to wear everywhere. She would dump them off to their nurse and leave them in her care for the entire day. The only time they truly came to know their Nana was when she would wake them up in the mornings then tuck them to bed at night.
The nurse gave them a bed-time story, not their Mother.
Elrond had grown used to it. And then the day came where Sirion was attacked. When their Nana had heard the news, she had rushed off. To where, Elrond didn't know. Their nurse had been the one to barge into their room and hide them.
Elrond and Elros had been so scared, clinging to one another and listening as the sounds of battle raged on. They could hear shouting in the corridor and the sounds of armored feet racing down past their bedroom...
Screams of pain mingled with battle cries and Elrond could hear something heavy falling onto the floor every few seconds. Their nurse, Laia, had ushered them into a closet, embracing them both tightly and kissing their foreheads.
"Whatever you do, little ones," She had hastily told them, a sense of urgency and fear underlying the tone of her voice, and Elrond could see it reflected in her kind green eyes, "Do not leave this place!" She commanded, gripping their shoulders firmly but gently. Her voice trembled and Laia started when they heard harsh yelling outside the room. Her breathing quickened, but Laia had summoned what was left of her courage and went to leave. Elrond and Elros reached out for her, fingers curling in the fabric of her sleeve, not wanting to let her go. They had known then, that if she should leave, they would never see her again.
"Laia..." Elros whimpered and Laia paused. When she glanced down to see them, Elrond could see the tears shimmering in her eyes.
"Be brave, my little warriors." She whispered so softly the two barely heard her, running her fingers through their short hair. "The two of you are meant for greater things. You will not die here." She promised them, cupping their tiny cheeks.
A cry of outrage shook the foundations of the building, and the twins threw themselves at Laia fearfully. Laia held them close.
Elrond could tell she was preparing herself for something. Something that scared her, and it scared him.
It was her death, he would later figure out.
But the twins knew Laia to be a courageous Elleth. Her love for the twins provided her with the strength she needed to let them go and to leave, hiding them from sight.
They would live, but she would not. A split second later, Laia had tugged them up into her arms and rushed out of the closet. She had changed her mind. She was going to take them away from here.
"Remember children," Her last words to them, Elrond would later recall, were these, "Your Nana did love you." And then she left, after dropping them off far outside Sirion's gates.
How they managed to sneak past the battle without being seen or confronted eluded Elrond, but he thanked the Valar they had.
But Laia's words made no sense to Elrond's young mind. Why did their Nana leave and Laia stay? Their Nana should have stayed, but Laia was the only one who did. She was the only one who cared.
Not long after, were Elrond and Elros found by frightening Elves who carried them off farther away and dumped them by a cave and a waterfall. The Elves didn't kill them, but they did leave. Elrond and Elros refused to leave the place, scared of what they might find or who they might see. While Elrond remained in the cave, Elros went outside to play by the waterfall. He could hear his brother splashing about in the water, humming quietly under his breath, and then, sudden silence.
Elrond crept towards the entrance of the cave, wondering why his brother had abruptly gone silent.
And then he heard it.
A hardened voice, cutting through the air like steel, speaking to his brother. He could barely see his brother cowering beside the waterfall at the sight of the intimidating Elf approaching him.
That Elf had been Maedhros.
Elrond had frozen in place, scared. He didn't know what to do. The scary Elf was tall, more than two times as tall as them, and was striding towards Elros with a severe expression. He stopped when a voice, softer than the scary Elf's, called out to him.
"Maedhros, you're frightening him."
Maedhros glowered at the newcomer, an Elf who was far less scarier than him. The new Elf emerged from the woods, his kind but sad blue eyes falling onto his brother's trembling form.
Maglor.
Elros, no matter how much Maglor had tried to coax him, refused to budge. When Maglor had taken a step towards his brother, Elrond had darted out from his hiding place with a small, frightened cry and flew towards him, crushing Elros close to him and glaring at Maglor. Elros immediately reciprocated the embrace.
Maglor went stock still, staring at the two of them with wide, shocked eyes, and even Maedhros had an odd look on his face.
"Twins..." Maglor had breathed. "Just like...the Ambarussa..." His voice was a tiny whisper, so weak and frail as the look of utter grief replaced his kind expression.
It took a lot of convincing on Maglor's part to get Maedhros to take them as hostages, but the scary Elf gave into his younger brother, unable to refuse him.
And here they were now, in Sirion, being raised by Maedhros and Maglor. It had been several months since that day, and the twins begetting day was fast approaching.
"Elrond!" Elros's voice brought Elrond back to the present, and the Half-Elven found his brother impatiently dragging him further outside the gates. An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach and Elrond yanked his brother to a stop. "Elrond!" Elros whined, a little irritated with his difficult brother.
Elrond only shook his head and Elros huffed. "What's the matter? Why don't you want to go?" He demanded to know, tugging Elrond's arm again. Elrond shook his head, faster, this time, the uneasy feeling tightening the knots in his stomach.
There was something bad nearby. He could feel its dark presence lurking around them.
Elros, watching as Elrond's eyes darted about them with a touch of fear and worry, understood that his brother had sensed something. And whatever it was, judging by the look on his face, it couldn't be good.
"We need to go." It was a faint whisper, but Elros heard it all the same. Now he knew something was wrong. Elrond hardly ever spoke, even to Elros, but he did this time. And with urgency.
Elros curtly nodded, knowing it wouldn't be wise to doubt his brother's senses. "Okay. Let's go." Before whatever it is you sense comes, Elros mentally added. The two spun on their heels and made to run, but never got that far. A beast, unlike anything Elrond and Elros had ever seen before, had lunged out of the woods onto the path in front of them, causing the two to release high-pitched shrieks of fear.
It was huge! And it was ugly, the face mutilated and beyond recognizable, and it reeked. If Elrond could have described the beast, he would have, but even he didn't know what it was. He didn't recognize it, but he was sure it had to be one of those monsters from the children stories Laia once read to them.
Whatever it was growled, a low and feral sound that sent chills running down his spine. It raised one of its large paws and moved towards them, the ground quaking beneath its weight.
Elrond and Elros fearfully backed away, panicking. Jumbled thoughts raced through their minds as they tried to think of what to do.
Could they run? But what if it caught them? Should they scream for help? Would someone reach them in time?
They had no time to answer the question when the beast lunged at them. Elrond immediately shoved Elros out of harm's way, barely throwing himself to the side in order to avoid being caught.
The twins scrambled to their feet, Elros crying out for his brother. Elrond, in his haste to stand, tripped over his feet and crashed back into the ground. He managed to raise his head and what he saw made his heart skip a beat.
The monster was going for his brother, the beast slowly creeping forward as a predator would its cornered prey. Elros was trapped, his back against a tree, shaking violently.
Without thinking, Elrond grabbed the nearest thing he could find- a big rock- and with a fierce shout that he was sure would have made even Maedhros proud, threw it as hard as he could at the monster.
The rock thumped against the beast's head, falling to the ground beside its paw, and it paused. Craning its neck, the ugly creature's beady eyes trapped Elrond within their hold, mouth curling back into a snarl.
Elros shot away once he realized the creature was distracted, only to skid to a stop when he found Elrond had not followed him. He looked to see the creature fully rotate itself to face his brother, angry that Elrond had struck it.
"Elrond!"
"Go!" Elrond shouted back, squeaking out something unintelligible when the creature pounced. He cast himself to the side, slipping on the wet grass, but managed to keep himself upright and ran.
Leading the monster away from his brother and leaving Elros behind, frantically calling after him. It was only fear that gave Elrond the strength he needed to keep running and to not pause for breath. His tiny feet barely touched the earth as he ran, listening to the growls and snarls of the heavy creature chasing after him.
'Help me...Help me!' Elrond inwardly cried, his heart pounding in his ears, drowning out every other sound but the beast's growls. He kept going, not knowing where he was running to, until, finally, Elrond could go no further.
With a frightened and despairing shout, Elrond crumpled to the ground at the base of a large tree, tears streaming down his face.
Sheer terror immobilized the young Elfling when he looked back in time to see the ugly beast leap at him, jaw agape and sharp teeth glinting.
At once, Elrond hid his face in his arms, curling tightly into himself as he prepared himself for his death that was to come.
To Elrond, caught within the clutches of fear, it felt as if his impending doom was taking hours to come, when it hadn't even been a second. He could sense the beast closing in, feel it closing the distance that separated them.
Just when the monster landed atop him, its claws digging into his arm, did Elrond release a pained scream.
His scream was closely followed by a ferocious, inhuman roar. The beast was violently torn away from Elrond by an unrelenting force and sent sailing through the air. It crashed, mercilessly, into the ground and whatever attacked it followed close behind.
The Elfling didn't dare move a muscle, even when he heard the sound of a blade singing through the air and ripping through the beast. He could hear the beast's wounded yelp and angered snarl.
Whoever had rescued him, wasted no time in ending the beast's pathetic life with a quick run-through with their blade.
Elrond couldn't move even if he wanted to, trapped within the clutches of terror and sharp fear.
He barely heard the sound of armored footsteps rushing towards him, but he did sense the new presence that dropped down beside him, a hand reaching out and turning him over.
A deep, hoarse voice called out his name.
"Elrond!"
He still didn't move, but this time, it wasn't because he was terrified. It was because he recognized that voice but couldn't believe that it was him.
The hand moved to cup his tiny face.
"Elrond!" The voice repeated. "Open your eyes, child!" It came out as an order, but Elrond didn't obey, too afraid.
Afraid of what, he didn't know.
"Elrond, you are safe." The voice assured him, and Elrond felt arms delicately wrapping around him as if he was made of glass and gently holding him against the newcomer's chest.
Elrond whimpered, having jostled his arm and whined in pain.
He wanted to cry, but Elrond refused to, knowing it would cause him more pain.
"Elrond, it is alright." The voice soothed, and a hand smoothed his hair back. "Open your eyes, little one." The endearment slipped from the Elf's tongue before he could stop himself, but he hardly noticed.
Elrond finally cracked open his eyes to see that it was indeed Maedhros who held him in the protective embrace he was in. The normally severe and grave demeanor Maedhros normally had had vanished without a trace, leaving behind concern.
It was too much for Elrond, and the tears he had been holding at bay fell.
Maedhros froze for a moment, his fingers tangled in Elrond's silky hair, unsure of what to do, but when he saw the pain reflected in those half-opened, dark, grey orbs, Maedhros knew he had to comfort the little Elfling.
Keeping Elrond cradled against his chest with one arm, Maedhros loosed his only hand and used it to run his fingers through Elrond's silky hair. "Shh, little one," Maedhros quietly cooed, distantly recalling all of the times he held all of his younger brothers the way he held Elrond and soothed them. "I have you." He added in a whisper. He didn't know what that would mean to Elrond, but he hoped it was enough to calm the Elfling.
He would've thanked the Valar for his timing, but he didn't.
He had heard the tale of Elrond's bravery from Elros, when the twin had come flying into his study, babbling incoherently between sobs about how Elrond was about to be eaten by some monster.
Maedhros didn't even think, he acted.
He bolted from his study, leaving behind a wailing Elros in Erestor's care. He had seen the unveiled worry in Erestor's piercing eyes when they settled on him, having understood Elros's words, and recognized the plea for him to rescue Elrond burning within them. Worry for the Elfling was what urged Maedhros to quicken his pace, forcing himself to run faster than he knew he could.
When he had heard Elrond's scream, heart-wrenching fear had seized him, suffocating him.
'For a split second...I thought he was dead...' Maedhros thought to himself, unconsciously tightening his hold on Elrond, recalling the time when he had scared Elrond into falling off a balcony passing through his mind.
When he came across the beast and Elrond, Maedhros had instantly attacked the creature, savagely beating it down and ending it's pitiful life. Sharp, coiling anger had filled Maedhros's being while he attacked the creature, and a small dose of fear accompanied that anger.
When he had finished off the creature, Maedhros had turned, half-expecting to find that Elrond had fled to safety, but that wasn't what he had found.
He had looked to find Elrond lying face down on the ground, his wounded arm splayed out to the side, with blood seeping into the ground.
It had scared him more than he wanted to admit. It was at that moment Maedhros truly believed he had arrived too late.
Elrond whined again, solely in pain and his fingers curled around Maedhros's hand, grasping it, begging for comfort; for Maedhros to take away the pain.
Maedhros shushed him softly, uttering calming words of comfort as he made to return home, where he would have his best healer check Elrond's wounds. "It is alright, little one. I have you."
Elrond shifted in his hold, pressing himself closer to Maedhros, curling in his embrace and squeezing Maedhros's nimble fingers. Maedhros allowed it, trying to provide Elrond with all of the comfort he could.
But with only one hand, there was only so much Maedhros could do, the Elf bitterly thought to himself.
"Maedhros..." Elrond whispered, pained and cringing when he felt his arm move slightly.
"Quiet, little one." Maedhros murmured. "Rest. You are safe. I have you."
Why he kept repeating the same phrase over and over again was beyond Maedhros, but it warmed him to see that those were the words Elrond had wanted, had needed, to hear.
When he glanced down to check Elrond once again, he found those expressive eyes staring up at him with pure trust and...
Was that love he could see in those eyes?
Maedhros hardly dared to believe it. How could this Elfling ever love him? He was a kinslayer. He was the reason why Elrond had been torn away from his home and taken from his parents. He had suffered so much, had seen so much for such a young Elfling...and it was all because of him and the Silmarils.
Maedhros wouldn't dare have Makalaurë share the blame.
In fact, it was because of Makalaurë the twins had become a part of their lives. Though they had been, at first, annoying to Maedhros, seeing as they kept following him around everywhere, Maedhros found that he did, no matter how much he denied it, cared for them. He would even go as far as to admit that he was glad his brother had convinced him to take the two with them.
"I have you." Maedhros said to Elrond, when the Elfling whimpered, without meaning to speak the words aloud.
"I know." Elrond breathed out, hissing in pain.
It lay as a promise between them. And even when Elrond started to doze off, Maedhros found himself whispering those same three words to him again.
"I have you."
Unlike what Maedhros believed, Elrond was still conscious enough to have heard it and the young Elfling realized one thing while he was being carried back to the house by Maedhros.
He was home.
~Duplicity~
After hearing Elrond's tale of his rescue, the Elfling having skipped over the parts concerning the sacking of Sirion, the entire family of Finwë sat in silence, marveling over the story.
"He must have lived a hard life..." Nerdanel uttered quietly, her heart going out to the Elf Elrond had told them about. "He only had one hand?" It was unheard of, an Elf being maimed in such a way. How he had come across such an injury Nerdanel wasn't sure she wanted to know. But there was something about this Maedhros...Something that nagged at the nis.
Elrond nodded. "Yes...But he strong. He never let it put him down." The way Elrond spoke of Maedhros, with such love and adoration touched the family, and small smiles grew on their lips. "Elros and I sometime pretend to be him." He pulled the sleeve of his tunic over his hand, making it resemble only a stump as if to show them how he and his twin would role-play Maedhros. "But Maedhros keep saying to be better than him." Here, Elrond frowned. "I confused. How can I be better than Maedhros? He the best."
Yes, he is. Caranthir agreed with Elrond's statement.
"Sounds like you, Nelyo." Findekano remarked, and both Turgon and Caranthir looked at one another.
Findekano would never know just how right he was about that.
"Except that I am not as strong as this Maedhros." Nelyo negated. "I don't know how I would function with only one hand. I could never be as this Maedhros is. Certainly not as strong."
And Nelyo would never know just how wrong he was about that statement, Turgon and Caranthir thought to themselves. Nelyo and the family remained oblivious to the knowing looks Turgon and Caranthir graced one another, with a hint of the horror they always felt when recalling their dark past.
~Duplicity~
Turgon was unable to keep his promise to Elrond, and it crushed him to see Elrond crumble under the fact that he wouldn't see his Atto that day. Maglor had vanished and no one knew where he had gone.
Mysteriously enough, Caranthir also disappeared and neither returned until it was late. What they were doing, Turgon never found out, but based on their appearance, he would hazard to guess they had gone to spar.
Caranthir was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, clearly refreshed and even Maglor appeared less stressed and tired. The two bantered back and forth, snickering at one another. The playful conversation taking place ended with a wrestling match when Maglor said something Caranthir didn't appreciate and Turgon watched as Caranthir pounced onto him. Maglor fought back, the two laughing.
Nelyo and Findekano, who were still awake, openly stared at the two.
"What spell was cast over them?" Turgon overheard Findekano asking Nelyo when Caranthir howled with laughter at something Maglor had said.
"No!" Caranthir's hiss could be heard over the sound of rain tumbling to the ground. Maglor looked smug, making Turgon wonder what it was he had said to earn such a positively murderous glare from Caranthir. "Why you evil..." And Turgon wasn't even going to translate those curses Caranthir started uttering. He not longer felt as mortified as he had once before when Caranthir once directed those same curses at his family, having grown weary and bored of them.
Maglor raised both eyebrows in shock. "My, my, Moryo, where did you learn such language?!"
Caranthir said something about having overheard a certain someone, Turgon would leave the name unsaid, saying them. Apparently, he had learned many, if not all, of his curses from that particular person.
Maglor bit back a smirk, instead, saying, "Well, if they were directed towards you, I'm not at all surprised."
Turgon couldn't withhold the laughter bubbling within him at this statement. Caranthir's stunned expression made it even better and Turgon keeled over, arms wrapped around his stomach as he laughed.
Maglor peered up at him from his position on the ground, lazily smiling while Caranthir pouted. "Why, hello there, Turu."
Turgon, still laughing, failed in returning the greeting, his words catching in his throat and laughter emitting from his lips instead.
"Yeah, yeah, keep laughing, why don't you?" Caranthir mumbled, glowering at the ground, though his the corner of his lips were suspiciously twitching.
Nelyo and Findekano stood rooted in their spot, watching the trio before them.
"I would never...never have guessed..." Turgon gasped out between breaths, struggling to regain his composure, "That you had...had it in you, Kano!"
Maglor shrugged. "I never would have either..." He drawled.
Caranthir punched him in the arm. "That's because he has me for a brother."
Maglor huffed out a laugh. "Oh, yes. I learned a great many things from you, dear brother-mine, and guess what? None of them were good things!"
"Excuse you!?"
Maglor continued, purposefully ignoring Caranthir and goading him on. "All of you led by example. I merely watched and learned everything I should not do."
"I resent that!"
Another round of wrestling followed and Nelyo and Findekano decided just to leave it be. Turgon joined in, unwillingly, having been dragged into the fight when Caranthir decided Turgon was also guilty of making fun of him.
Fëanaro, Finwë, and Nolofinwë later found them in a tangled heap in the courtyard, laughing and enjoying one another's company.
It was only after Nolofinwë suggested that they retire for the night that they moved into the house after the adults.
Maglor, after bathing and cleaning his room, finally plopped down onto his comfortable bed, a smile on his lips. Today had been a good day. After Turgon told Maglor and Caranthir that he discovered what year it was, the two explained Caranthir's idea of allowing the Silmarils to be forged.
It was then Turgon pointed out that they couldn't destroy the Silmarils, and so Maglor and Caranthir rephrased their sentences and explained to Turgon that by 'destroy,' they had meant 'get rid of.'
Turgon, after running through the plan, had agreed that it was probably the best course of action. It wouldn't do for them to change history as drastically as it would have had they prevented the Silmarils from being forged. Many key parts and turning points in history still had to happen, they knew.
Some would be difficult to bear and live through, but for the sake of Middle-Earth, they would.
And, Maglor reminded himself, tomorrow, he would check on Elrond.
With that in mind, Maglor slipped into the blissful realm of sleep. At least, tonight, he would finally be able to get a good night's sleep.
Or so he thought...
The moment Maglor was just about to fall asleep, the door to his room creaked open.
"Atto?"
By the Valar...
Maglor turned over, propping himself up with an arm to find Elrond shuffling towards him in the dark. He stumbled a couple of times, unable to see as well as a full-blooded Elf could in the dark.
"Ionya?"
How on Eru's green earth did Elrond manage to find his room?
Elrond paused before his bed, raising a fist to rub his eye and sleepily looking up at his Atto.
Maglor, still a little surprised, watched as Elrond grabbed hold of the bed and climb up onto it, struggling a little since he was smaller than the bed itself. Maglor helped him up the rest of the way and the Elfling happily settled close to his Atto, clutching a familiar stuffed animal close to him. Draping an arm around Elrond, Maglor quietly asked in Sindarin, "Where did you get Russe, Elrond?"
Russe had been Nelyo's stuffed red-brown bear when he had been an Elfling, and it had been given to Maglor when he was little, then passed down to all of the other brothers. It was a special stuffed animal, and had yet to be passed down to the twins.
Elrond yawned out his response, he, too, slipping back into Sindarin, "Nelyo gave it to me. Curvo had it, but he let Nelyo take it so he can give it to me."
Maglor smirked. So, Curvo had kept the bear all to himself? It was no wonder the twins had yet to receive it.
"I miss Bragol though..." Elrond admitted, reminiscing over the stuffed wolf he had to leave behind since his miraculous teleportation to Valinor.
"Bragol?" Maglor repeated, barely remembering the stuffed animal Elrond was referring to. He had always wondered why Elrond had named his wolf 'sudden' in Sindarin, but he had never asked. Elrond had been very attached to the stuffed wolf, never letting it out of his sight and taking care of it. He knew Elrond, when he had grown up and become the Lord of Rivendell, had kept the wolf in one of his tiny chests filled with memoirs of his time with Maedhros and Maglor.
Elrond had even given it to his twins sons, after making them promise that they would take especially good care of it. Apparently, Elrond had explained to him where and when he had gotten the wolf, and the twins, hearing how special the wolf was to their Ada, made sure that nothing bad ever happened to Bragol.
Elrond tiredly hummed in answer to Maglor's previous question.
"Who gave Bragol to you anyway, Elrond? I don't remember ever having any stuffed animals in Himring." Maglor said. He knew quite well that Himring had been empty of any toys for Elflings and they most certainly never had any stuffed animals. It was only after Elrond and Elros had been brought to Himring that they bought toys for the twins to amuse themselves with.
"Atar." Elrond answered, tightening his hold on the bear.
Maglor wasn't sure if he had heard him correctly. "Maedhros gave him to you?" He asked, just to make sure. He felt Elrond nod against his chest, where the Elfling had curled up. "He did?" Incredulous, Maglor's voice pitched up an octave.
"Yes."
"When?" Maglor wanted to know, still surprised. He didn't remember this, and why hadn't Maedhros told him?
"It was after you left. I was sad and Elros left to see 'Res. I went to see Atar..." Elrond trailed off a moment when he heard the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. He shrank closer to his Atto and Maglor reassuringly ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't think he was expecting me. He let me stay with him that night."
Maglor raised both eyebrows at this, amazed. He knew how uneasy Maedhros had felt around the twins and he always preferred to keep his distance from them. It was difficult for him to even speak with them, much less interact with them in any way. For Maedhros to allow Elrond to stay with him...
"The next day, he left without telling us where he was going. I thought he was upset with me." Elrond shyly admitted. "But when he came back, he gave me Bragol."
Elrond remembered how surprised and nervous he had been when Maedhros had suddenly entered his and Elros's room and approached him. Elrond had had to tilt his head all the way back in order to see Maedhros, seeing as the Elf was three times as tall as he was. It didn't help that he was sitting down either. Fearing that he was in trouble, Elrond had bowed his head and quickly apologized for bothering Maedhros that last night.
Instead of reprimanding him, as he had expected, Maedhros had knelt down in front of him, appearing less intimidating than before. 'Here.' Maedhros had said, holding his hand out and showing Elrond the stuffed, black, wolf he held. Elrond had jerked his head up in surprise, wide eyes regarding Maedhros for a few moment, searching. 'This is Bragol.' Maedhros had introduced the stuffed wolf, watching as Elrond shyly took hold of it and cradle it close to him. 'He was in the marketplace searching for a companion...Someone who would take good care of him.'
'I will!' Elrond had immediately said, squeezing the stuffed wolf against him and smiling widely. Elrond thought he imagined the slight grin playing at Maedhros's lips and the softening of his dark blue eyes. 'Thank-you, Atar.'
The name had slipped from him before he could stop it, but Elrond hardly noticed. Maedhros had, however, and he had very nearly reeled back in surprise.
Of course, Elrond had kept true to his word, even though he had only had the wolf for a little over a week now.
After Elrond had finished explaining where and how he had gotten Bragol, Maglor understood why the wolf had been given that name.
He smiled.
"I see...I'm sure Bragol misses you too, Elrond, but I know Maedhros and Elros will take good care of him."
Elrond nodded in agreement, yawning again and purposefully ignoring the thunder that decided to make itself known. "Atto..?" He sleepily called, eyes drooping.
"Hm?"
"Nelyo..."
"What about him?" Maglor cracked open an eye to see Elrond, smiling softly and tugging his blanket up and over Elrond's shoulders. Elrond sighed, snuggling further into the comfortable blankets.
"He reminds me of Maedhros."
All Maglor could do was agree. "Indeed he does, Elrond...Indeed he does."
"I miss Atar, Atto." Elrond admitted, starting to fall asleep. "Do you miss him too?"
Maglor felt his heart constrict. It had been so long since he had seen Maedhros, but for Elrond, it had only been a couple of days. "I do, little one."
"Will we see Maedhros again?" Here, Elrond turned in Maglor's hold, peering up at his Atto questioningly. Maglor exhaled quietly.
"Maybe one day."
Elrond was content with the answer and allowed himself to drift off into sleep. Maglor, however, didn't. He spent a few more minutes thinking over Maedhros and repeating Elrond's story about Bragol in his mind.
Would Elrond ever see Maedhros again?
It was a good question, and one Maglor didn't know the answer to. If they were to successfully get rid of the Silmarils, Elrond and Elros would never be raised by Maglor or Maedhros. They would never become the family they had after the sacking of Sirion.
But...Maglor was sure their paths would cross one day, and he would cherish those moments, even though the twins would never understand how much they meant to him.
Right now, Maglor would spend all of the quality time he had with Elrond.
This would probably be the only time Maglor would ever be Elrond's Father.
~Duplicity~
Caranthir lurched upright in his bed, momentarily forgetting to breath, eyes wide. He was panting heavily, his heart beating frantically within his chest as tears streamed down his cheeks. His eyes darted about the room before Caranthir flung himself out of his bed.
In his haste, Caranthir tangled himself up in his sheets and the dark Elf crashed into the unforgiving floor. He felt no pain, however, when his body met the cold, hard, ground, Caranthir blinded by his panic and need to find his brother.
Thunder bellowed outside and the window vibrated, but Caranthir hardly heard it over the sound of his own fast-paced heart-beat thumping in his ears. Lightning flashed in retort, illuminating the entire room and Caranthir crawled over to the door, still caught between the realms of wakefulness and sleep. He dragged himself up, hand fumbling for the door knob.
Once he found it, Caranthir flung his door open, the door slamming into the hallway wall with a loud bang, and fled across the corridor to the room he was searching for.
Even though he wasn't in his right mind, Caranthir's feet knew the way and the ner found himself outside his brother's room in record time. Immediately, he pounded on the door, calling out his brother's name, and casting it open. He fell into the room, unable to keep himself upright, dry heaves shaking his body.
He hardly heard the rustle of fabric signalling that his brother had awoken, but he did hear Maglor's concerned calls.
"Moryo!" Hands grabbed hold of him, moving up to tip his face up. His panicked eyes met those of Maglor's and Caranthir threw himself at his brother.
"Maglor..." He hoarsely gasped out, crushing his brother to death in the vice-like grip he had him in. He sobbed, feeling Maglor encircling his arms around him, worry stirring in the air as Maglor reciprocated the desperate embrace.
"Moryo, what is it? What's wrong?"
~Duplicity~
Maglor shot upright in his bed, when he heard Elrond's startled cry.
"Elrond!" Maglor exclaimed, reaching out to the frightened Elfling. Elrond had hidden himself underneath the covers, and so all Maglor could see was an odd lump beside him in the bed shaking violently. "What is it? What's the matter?" He asked, lifting up the blanket in order to see Elrond. The Elfling whimpered in response, crawling closer to him.
The thunder that fiercely bellowed answered Maglor's question. Understanding dawned over Maglor and he pulled the Elfling up into his lap, rocking him back and forth in a soothing manner, murmuring calm words to the scared Peredhil.
Muffled words were mumbled against his shoulder, where Elrond had buried his face, and Maglor tilted his head. "What was that?"
Elrond pulled back slightly, only to fly back into him when the thunder struck again. "Sumfin' not right." He scarcely whispered, still trembling in Maglor's hold.
"What do you mean?" Maglor asked him, searching the room for anything that Elrond might have sensed. He didn't sense anything amiss.
"I don' know." Elrond shook his head against his shoulder, fingers digging into Maglor's night shirt.
It was at that moment thunder struck again.
Wait...
That wasn't thunder. That was the sound of a door slamming against a wall...
Maglor turned in time to watch the doors to his room fly open and a dark shadow stumble inside.
"Maglor..." a breathless call, before the shadow crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath. "Maglor!" A desperate cry.
Maglor shot off his bed, his heart skipping a beat.
"Moryo!" He rushed over to his younger brother, hands reaching out and grabbing hold of the trembling Elf. Holding his brother's face in his hands, he tilted Caranthir's head up to see what was wrong, only to meet wide, panicked brown eyes.
"Maglor!" Caranthir slumped over, heaving. Maglor held him, fearfully trying to figure out what was wrong. His brother was shaking uncontrollably, and there was complete and utter horror and despair stirring in the atmosphere around them.
"Moryo! What is it? What's wrong!?" Maglor demanded to know, his fear spiking up another notch when Caranthir pitched over and heaved again. Recognizing the signs of illness creeping onto Caranthir's pale face, Maglor bodily hauled Caranthir up and rushed towards the window, shoving them open and helping Caranthir to lean over the edge. He was just in time, too. Quickly, Maglor collected all of Caranthir's hair and held it out of his face as Caranthir vomited up everything he had eaten that day. Worried sick, Maglor held Caranthir in place for a few moments longer until Caranthir slumped against him, brokenly sobbing and mumbling incoherently. "Moryo!" Maglor held him close, rocking back and forth in the hopes of calming his brother.
Quickly scanning over his brother, Maglor slowly came to realize that he recognized the symptoms he was seeing. These were all symptoms he knew well.
Caranthir had suffered from a nightmare.
Maglor didn't even notice that Elrond had darted over to the door in the far side of his room, throwing it open and running inside, busy trying to calm his brother after his newly found discovery.
Thinking quickly, Maglor started to hum one of Caranthir's favorite songs, one he remembered humming when Caranthir was an Elfling.
"Maglor!" Caranthir whimpered.
Maglor shushed him.
"Shh, you're alright, Moryo..." Then he continued with his melodious humming while Caranthir continued to cry. The dark Elf let Maglor hold him, his hands clutching handfuls of Maglor's nightshirt in a death-grip.
"We can't do it...We can't..." Caranthir said between gasps, his shoulders shaking.
Maglor drew his brows together, wondering what his brother was talking about. He remained silent, fingers tangled in his brother's silky, black, strands.
"I can't...I can't let you..." Caranthir continued, strengthening his grip, and Maglor barely suppressed a wince when his brother's fingers dug into his back.
"What can't you let happen, Moryo? What is it?" Maglor tried to ask, but it didn't seem as if Caranthir could hear him. "Moryo," He tried again, resting his chin on the crown of his brother's head. "You're alright. You're okay. You had a nightmare." He moved a hand up and down Caranthir's back, seeking to calm him. The nightmare still had somewhat of a hold on him, refusing to let go of Caranthir. Maglor couldn't allow that.
Caranthir immediately shook his head, a sob catching in his throat. "It is no nightmare. Maglor...I was wrong...I was wrong!"
Caranthir was growing hysterical, and Maglor was beginning to grow even more unnerved. What in Arda could his brother have seen?
"Hush, now, Moryo. What is wrong..?"
"My plan..! My plan..!"
"Moryo..?"
"It will kill you!"
A little taken aback by the statement, Maglor raised his head to look down at the shaken Caranthir he held. "What are you talking about?"
"It was a vision..." Caranthir managed to say, still breathing heavily, but Maglor could tell that he was growing a little more calm. "I had a vision..." Tears welled up in his eyes and Maglor returned to soothing him.
"What did you see, Moryo?" Caranthir didn't answer. He couldn't bring himself to. "Tell me." Maglor sternly, but gently, ordered.
Caranthir suddenly went still, the deathly-tight grip he had on Maglor loosened and the dark-Elf shakily inhaled, clearly reliving the moments of his nightmare in his mind.
Whatever he had dreamed, it had certainly disturbed Caranthir, which made Maglor immensely worried. Had Caranthir seen how their quest would end? Would they fail?
Distraught, Caranthir tipped his head up, dragging his eyes up to meet Maglor's own concerned blue orbs.
"I saw..." Caranthir started, in a small, meekly manner before his voice cracked. He coughed then heaved again and Maglor propped him up as best he could. "I saw..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence, but Maglor pressed for an answer. He needed one. He needed to know what had made Caranthir react in such a way.
"What did you see, Moryo?" Maglor asked in a calm voice.
The answer he received was not one he was expecting nor what he had guessed as Caranthir went to respond in a haunted tone,
"Your death."
~Duplicity~
Ended with a bit of a dark note and this chapter's shorter than all the other chapters, I know. But I promise to make it up to you guys! The next chapter will be much longer. I hope this chapter was okay. I'm not exactly happy with it, but oh well.