A/N: So here is another chapter, and I apologize for the long wait. College work takes up more time than I though it would, and I recently went to a family gathering in New Mexico, so its been crazy for the last few weeks. But I think the wait was worth it, because this is a really good chapter. Please let me know what you think, and hopefully the next chapter won't take as long. *fingers crossed, knocking on wood at same time.*
The sun had recently set, and the camp had quieted for the evening. The guards had been posted and the perimeter was secure. Silhouettes could be seen of the guards on the ground, but the ones in the trees were undetectable. The Fëanorians that had not been too exhausted had also taken a rotation. Elves would always stand united against orcs or other dark creatures, especially with wounded nearby.
Those not guarding the camp had settled down, for the most part. Maglor and Lainor had been given draughts to induce complete unconsciousness and pain relief as well as try and get their fever's under some degree of control.
Elrond and Elros had stayed by the two elves' sides throughout the day to monitor their conditions, as well as quietly examining Maedhros by sight. They had also surreptitiously gotten the two elves ready for travel.
They suspected Maedhros was not as healthy as he was pretending to be, otherwise he would have noticed what they were doing.
As voices quieted and the quiet sounds of slumber took over the camp, the twins exchanged a glance, then simultaneously turned to Maedhros, who was ignoring them in order to keep an eye on his brother.
Feeling their gazes, Maedhros finally looked up, not being the least bit intimidated.
"What is wrong?" he rasped quietly, his voice almost gone from talking to his brother for hours and hours, if not days.
"You need to rest," Elrond said bluntly, "You are no good to Maglor if you collapse from exhaustion."
Maedhros shook his head, "I will rest when I know he will be well. You can do nothing to change that fact," his eyes turning hard as if daring them to contradict or stop him.
Both twins quietly nodded and returned to what they were doing, knowing they could get no farther with him, and waiting patiently for Maeassil and Heledhon.
Maglor would not be the only son of Fëanor being forced to rest tonight.
A few minutes later, Maeassil came with a cup in hand. Heledhon slipped in silently behind Maedhros and prepared himself.
It was a testament to Maedhros' exhaustion and fatigue that he did not notice the trap that was being set for him or Heledhon behind him.
Maeassil held the cup out to Maedhros, saying, "Drink, it will help with your headache," in a tone of voice that left no room for arguing.
She was one of the few who could get Maedhros to do anything with any degree of success. She also was willing to go to great lengths to accomplish the tasks she set for herself, and no one and nothing could stop her at times.
Maedhros knew this; and since his headache was reaching migraine intensity in terms of the level of pain, he took the cup and drank as quickly as possible to avoid the bad taste.
He closed his eyes in order to down the draught, and so missed the triumphant glances shared by the twins, Maeassil, Heledhon, and Nestor; who had been involved in this little scheme for practicality's sake.
Maeassil took the cup away and sat down next to Elrond on the other side of Maglor. Elrond was constantly monitoring Maglor's pulse for any significant changes.
Because of his fatigue, it did not take long for the draught to start working on Maedhros. The first sign that showed it was working was an almost jaw-splitting yawn.
Maedhros paid it no mind, since he had been yawning off and on for hours.
When the world listed suddenly to one side and spun dizzily he began to notice something was not right.
"What did you give me? Truthfully?" he asked Maeassil, his words starting to slur slightly.
"Something to help you rest," Elrond answered instead of Maeassil. She was trying not to smile at Maedhros' expression, "You are exhausted, and will not like what we are about to do."
Maedhros barely heard him; his breathing was starting to deepen and his muscles were so relaxed he could not hold himself up. Heledhon was quietly holding him up as he fought to stay awake.
"...brother..." was all he could murmur as his mind began to lose itself to the blackness of unconsciousness.
"...take care...him...rest now..." was all he heard. The sons of Fëanor are renowned for their stubbornness and determination, however, which meant Maedhros had every intention of fighting sleep for as long as he could.
Someone seemed to have other plans, though, for a feather light hand was placed on his forehead. Peace, and the overwhelming urge to sleep poured into his head. Before he had realized it, Maedhros was lost to a deep, dreamless sleep that left no room for worry, pain, or fear.
Maedhros finally went completely limp, head falling back against Heledhon's arm as Elrond removed his hand.
"That went more easily than I expected," Elros said as Nestor gently tested Maedhros' responses, breathing, and reflexes. His responses and reflexes were sluggish because of the drug, but his breathing was steady.
"He is past spent," Maeassil said, "I do not think he has truly slept since we left Himring."
"That explains much," Elrond said as he helped Heledhon carry Maedhros to an empty bedroll. Between Nestor and the twins Maedhros was quickly divested of his shirt and tunic to reveal several wounds and bruises.
A bruise on his shoulder revealed a recent dislocation, and other bruises revealed broken ribs.
Many of the wounds were superficial, so they were only cleaned and left alone.
The three healers decided on putting Maedhros' arm in a sling to give it some support. They maneuvered the joint beforehand and Elrond massaged it for a few minutes to loosen the tight muscles. Even in his unconscious state Maedhros sighed as the muscles loosened their constricting hold on the swollen joint.
Once the arm was in a sling and the ribs were bound, the healers quickly looked over the rest of him before declaring him exhausted only.
Elros pulled a blanket over him and made sure he was comfortable before returning to where Nestor and Elrond were quickly checking bindings and bandages on Maglor and Lainor before they were taken out to the horses.
Once he was sure everything was well in hand, Elros went outside to where Glorfindel was standing with Veryafion and Gwaereneth, not looking entirely happy that he had to stay behind because Iphannor was not fast enough to keep up with the fleet-footed mares and Calaerdir was too exhausted to make the journey so soon at such a fast pace.
Elros quickly mounted; and a moment later Nestor and Heledhon brought out Lainor, wrapped in a blanket for warmth. They passed him up to Elros, who quickly got him settled and then waited patiently for Elrond.
Elrond came out a moment later and mounted Veryafion. Nestor and Heledhon returned to the tent and came out with a blanket-wrapped Maglor, who groaned as he was passed up to Elrond and settled on Veryafion.
Once the twins were ready, Heledhon said quietly, "Do not make detours, or stop, unless absolutely necessary. Do you understand?"
Both twins nodded seriously, then Heledhon put a hand to his heart and said, "Nai i lissë Valaron tyë varyuva."
"Nai i Valaron tirolla tiëlda," the twins said together as they returned the gesture. They turned their horses and were gone; disappearing like ghosts in a fog.
The elves that remained stared after them for a few moments, then turned around to get some rest and be ready for the next day.
And for whenever Maedhros woke up.
Gil-galad and Círdan had just proven that age did not truly matter when it came to misbehaving.
The fact Hadlathon and Faneth were not on duty at this time most likely helped as well. Both elves seemed to have eyes in the back of their heads and could easily detect when people were misbehaving.
But...neither elf was on duty that night, so helping Círdan slip away for a moment was much simpler than what was expected.
Gil-galad was glad that this had been simple. Before she had left for the evening, Faneth had stopped by his study to say Círdan was behaving extremely strange. He was not being extremely rude or anything, but he was jumping at every little sound and was extremely nervous. He was hiding the nervousness, but it was clear to see to Faneth and Hadlathon.
Faneth did not say it, but they both knew it. Círdan's memories of his captivity and torture had returned to him, or at least an echo had returned to his subconscious, making calmness the last thing he could achieve.
So it was with no guilt in their hearts when they slipped away in the dead of night, using paths that the guards did not traverse or watch closely.
Círdan was still too weak to attempt walking all the way to the beach, so Gil-galad had taken a horse from the stable for him to ride. He had not wanted Aglarebon or Merenel to make a fuss if he tried to separate them, nor had he wanted to bring both along, so he had taken a calm, gentle mare that had a comfortable gait no one would miss for a few hours.
Círdan had been waiting for him at the window, so getting him onto the old mare had been very simple. He simply lowered himself onto her back, then they were underway.
Because Gil-galad was king, he knew the routes the guards would take. That meant he knew how to avoid them.
Ten minutes later, the two lords and horse were at the beach. The mare was then let loose to graze as the two elves settled comfortably on the same rocks that they had watched the twins from that day on the beach.
'It feels like a lifetime ago,' Gil-galad mused with a sideways glance at Círdan. His eyes were closed, his breathing deep as he inhaled the sea air and heard the crashing of waves on the shore. He looked at peace, as though the very air was calming him.
'As well it should,' Gil-galad thought, 'for his true home is the Sea. If he could live in the Sea, he would.'
Círdan opened his eyes in that moment; and Gil-galad gently placed his hand on Círdan's shoulder, thinking that Círdan was aware of what was happening around him.
He could not have been more wrong, for Círdan startled and almost jumped off the rock he had been sitting on. His breathing accelerated and he snapped his head around to size up a threat.
When he saw that it was only Gil-galad, he could only stare at him as he forced his breathing to calm.
Once that was done, all Círdan could think to do was turn his eyes to the Sea and murmur, "I apologize, Ereinion, for my reactions. I do not know why I act this way."
"There is no need to apologize, Círdan," Gil-galad said, "for I understand what you are going through. You only act this way because even though you do not completely remember what Halon did to you, a part of your mind does and is trying to protect you from further harm."
"Then why do I see what I see?" Círdan asked, "The Wars of Beleriand, the destruction of Sirion and Gondolin, and the sack of Doriath and hearing of Thingol's death. Why does my mind remind now of what has been lost?"
Gil-galad thought for a moment, then said slowly, "Perhaps your mind is trying to understand and process what happened and is doing so by comparing what happened to other traumatic events in your life. But since nothing truly comes close it is merely running different events through it to try and adjust and adapt."
"I wish it would stop, for I think all I truly need now is to sleep," Círdan's murmured miserably with exhaustion tinging his words and making them seem heavy.
"I do not think I can help you, but there may be someone who can. Even if he does not come, you can at least spend what remains of the night amongst his creation," Gil-galad said.
Círdan smiled the smile only reserved for Gil-galad, but then a thought came to him and the smile slipped slightly.
Instinctively knowing what Círdan was thinking Gil-galad said assuredly, "I know Halon is not returning, Círdan. The guards are on double the alert because of the Fëanorians and he knows what he would face should he return."
"I know, Ereinion," Círdan murmured, "but my mind reacts the way it does because he fully terrified me. He had no mercy and his cruelty matched that of orcs."
Gil-galad shook his head sorrowfully, "I know, Círdan. I know," as he thought back to his own captivity at the hand of orcs.
Círdan turned to him in concern, "I did not mean for you to remember that."
"I have moved on, and now you must do the same," Gil-galad said bluntly, "Now come, let us get the horse and be on our way. There are still a few hours before daybreak," with those words he stood and turned expectantly to Círdan.
Círdan seemed not to have heard him, since he kept staring out to sea. A moment later he quietly asked, "Did the twins search Halon's room?"
Gil-galad nodded, "When Faneth was watching you a few days before you woke fully."
"What did they find?" he asked.
Gil-galad drew in a deep breath, "A necklace, in a hidden compartment Elros stumbled over accidentally. Both twins have vague memories of their mother wearing it. They have it in Elrond's chambers for now, but I do not think they will want it after everything that has happened. Maybe when they can put this behind them, but not now."
Círdan nodded thoughtfully, but shook his head when Gil-galad brought the mare over, "I will walk, and you will take her back to the city."
"But–," Gil-galad tried to say, but was cut off by Círdan.
"No buts," Círdan said simply, "This I must do on my own, and none may follow."
Gil-galad frowned at this development, but the frown diminished when Círdan stood under his own power, something he had not been able to do for many weeks.
His legs trembled only slightly, but Círdan's stride was steady as he started to walk away up the beach.
Before Gil-galad could even think to follow Círdan stopped and turned, "Do not think to follow me, penneth. I go to my friend, who is waiting for me farther down the shore. He will let no harm come to me and I will be safe with him."
And with that Círdan continued on his way; and Gil-galad, despite his misgivings turned back to the city with the old mare, deciding to follow in the morning if Círdan had not returned.
Círdan's thoughts wandered as he walked, paying no attention to the time of night or where he was going. His thoughts were undisturbed as he gazed at the Sea, feeling content that he was back where he belonged and relieved that he could be alone with his thoughts for a time.
After a while his steps faltered as he realized that he could no longer hear that which he had been following.
Reaching out with his mind Círdan asked, "Where are you?"
The wind blew his way, and he could hear a voice saying 'Here,' from farther up the beach.
Now certain of which direction to go Círdan continued on his way, heading towards an opening in the cliffs.
As he got nearer, though, he hesitated, for it was not just the light he could see within that frightened him.
Again the wind blew, and the voice said, 'Do not fear, Nowë, for no harm will come to you when you enter.'
Knowing and trusting that voice, Círdan took a deep breath and stepped through the opening, only to be nearly blinded as his night-adjusted eyes looked upon the most pure form of light to be seen.
With tears in his eyes Círdan blinked rapidly to try and adjust his eyes. After a few minutes his eyes had adjusted enough to make out a figure amidst the light. Upon seeing who it was, Círdan automatically kneeled for Ulmo stood before him in corporeal form, something he had not done for years and years. Círdan immediately dropped his gaze, for the Ainu was terrifying to behold and filled him with equal parts awe and dread.
'Look at me, Nowë,' the voice again commanded gently. Círdan raised his head slowly, taking in as much of the Vala as he could, having never tired of seeing him in this form and wanting to take in as much of him as possible.
The Vala was the Sea, and his corporeal form reflected that: blue skin, deep blue beard and hair shot through with the green of seaweed, and sea-green armor alit with pearls of the sea and diamonds. His feet were shod in boots of sea stone, and he held the Ulumúri in his hand, which he set in the surf as he moved with grace that not even the Eldar could hope to master.
But it was his eyes that truly revealed his nature of being: deep and wise, with the strength and beauty of the Sea reflected within. It was those eyes that revealed his feelings for the elf in front of him, for they were kind and gentle as he looked upon Círdan and felt the pain, confusion, and anguish roiling inside the elf.
Círdan was reminded of his friendship with the Vala when he saw the kindness in Ulmo's eyes; and his fear dissipated as he looked into those eyes and smiled.
Ulmo returned the smile with one full of affection, 'All the time in the cave, though you were filled with pain and fear, you never lost faith that you would see my waters again and hear its song. And when you returned you rejoiced at hearing my song through the conch, for you knew that no matter where you went my song would never leave you as long as you had the conch, for that was my intention.'
Círdan frowned, "But I did, my lord, lose faith and now I feel as though I betrayed myself and you."
'Never, Nowë,' the Vala murmured firmly as he drew Círdan to his feet, 'for you were at another persons mercy and had no control over events. You trusted him, but the betrayer was Faerthurin, not you. He betrayed himself and you.'
"I do not understand," Círdan whispered, unable to break eye contact and feeling as though he had no control over his thoughts or mouth, for he knew he would have never spoken these words to any other, not even Gil-galad, "Why, when no one knows and he could have sailed and avoided this?"
Ulmo's eyes were full of grief as he said, 'He was of the Noldor and would never have been accepted to Valinor.'
That surprised Círdan enough that he could break eye contact and look down at his feet.
Ulmo leaned forward slightly and cocked his head, resting his hands gently on Círdan's cheeks, 'You do right not to hate him, but you must forgive him if you wish to move past this.'
"How?" Círdan whispered brokenly without looking up, his voice catching and tears coming to his eyes.
'Look at me.' Ulmo said again. When Círdan did he wiped the tears away and said, 'You are doing so right now. Do not hide your tears from me, for they will help you to heal.'
With those words something broke inside the Mariner. He collapsed into the Vala's embrace as tears raced down his cheeks and sobs came from his throat. The tears leaked into the Vala's beard, for Círdan's face was pressed against his chest and his hand was stroking Círdan's head and hair.
As for Círdan, he did not know why, or for what, he cried. His emotions were laid bare and being given free rein, and he could do nothing except allow it to happen. All his anger, fear, pain, confusion, and frustration was overwhelming him, and he could not stop his tears.
Ulmo did nothing except hold him, murmuring quietly, 'Do not fight this Nowë, for you will give yourself no other release in front of others. Do not fight this, for an ancient friend who knows your true self will be more help than others.'
Círdan could not have stopped if he had tried, and eventually he was so tired and spent he began to sway and his knees began to buckle as his tears and cries gave way to choked sobs and hiccups and he began to fall forward in a daze.
Ulmo lowered him to the ground; and through the haze enveloping his mind Círdan could feel himself being held up by the Vala. Ulmo wrapped his arms around Círdan's shaking frame and held him close against his chest as Círdan's eyes started to flutter close.
'Rest child, I will guard your sleep tonight.' Ulmo murmured as Círdan relaxed and his hand latched onto a handful of Ulmo's beard like a fearful child would.
'Rest child, no terrors will haunt your sleep tonight,' Ulmo soothed as he quietly planted a gentle kiss on Círdan's brow.
Círdan barely heard him, but hearing that soothing voice and feeling the beating heart relaxed and calmed him. He was unwilling and fearful to sleep, even though he realized he had little control over what happened. When Ulmo kissed his brow, however, his mind calmed so much that he slipped into a deep sleep that left no room for night terrors or fear.
The last thing he heard was the beating of Ulmo's heart in his ear and the last thing he felt was Ulmo's calm hands stroking through his hair and Ulmo's silky beard against his cheek.
Then he slept in the embrace of the Vala, who safeguarded his sleep the remainder of the night.
When Círdan had not returned by dawn Gil-galad had slipped out of the palace and gone up the beach quite a ways beyond the northern most watch tower riding Aglarebon bareback with Merenel trailing dutifully behind. She was now too pregnant to be ridden, but that did not stop her from following Aglarebon whenever possible.
Eventually he stopped at a small cliff that he knew had a hidden pool that went out to the Sea in it.
Going inside revealed Círdan sleeping peacefully on a bed of kelp. Gil-galad smiled at the sight, but decided Círdan really needed his bed up at the palace so that he could be changed out of his soaking clothes into dry sleeping clothes to rest.
Going over to him, Gil-galad noticed that Círdan was smiling in his sleep and seemed content. Gil-galad almost left then and there, but then he noticed the marks on the rocks that signified how the tide would be very soon. It would be up past where Círdan lay, and Gil-galad was unwilling to lose him again, even though he knew that nothing would happen to him so long as Ulmo protected him. This he knew consciously, but his subconscious was playing tricks with him.
His resolve hardening, Gil-galad returned to Círdan's side and gently picked him up. The water seemed to draw in a deep breath, but when Círdan slept on it came again to the beach.
Knowing that he would not have been able to leave with Círdan if the waters had not wanted it, Gil-galad bowed his head respectfully to the waters before making his way to the cave entrance. On his way his eyes was drawn to an object that he had not seen before until this point. Returning Círdan again to the bed of kelp for a moment Gil-galad went to the object and saw that it was a pearl as blue as the sky.
Ancient energy and power seemed to fill the air as he gazed upon it, and he could hear the Sea whisper, "For one who saved a life and has been scarred by it."
Hearing those words made Gil-galad realize that this pearl was not for him or for Círdan; but for Merilinel, who was still troubled by finding him and who he had not been able to find a suitable gift for. Realizing this, Gil-galad again turned to the waters and bowed low, hand over his heart, before he retrieved the pearl. Placing it reverently in a cloth and then the cloth in the small bag he always carried he returned to Círdan and again picked him up. This time he truly left the cave.
He placed Círdan before him on Aglarebon, and after Merenel had gently nuzzled Círdan's cheek they headed back to the city. He took the beach path, for no one was on it this time of day and so that Círdan could hear the gulls and waves for a little longer.
A while later Círdan was settled in his bed in his own rooms, for Gil-galad knew that his healing was now complete and there was nothing more the healers could do for him.
'A Vala's healing compares to nothing else,' he thought as he left Círdan's chambers for his study to get ahead of the work already piled on his desk. But first, he must go to the healing wing and retrieve the conch, and get the pearl set in a proper setting before giving it to Merilinel.
The cry of a bird of prey woke Heledhon from his sleep, as well as the sunlight hurting his open eyes. Blinking a few times to clear his vision helped, and as his sight swam into focus he saw that everyone from last night's conspiracy was right where they had placed themselves after the twins departure.
Glorfindel was still awake, eyes on Maedhros, distrust clear to see.
Belegon was still asleep next to him, mouth open slightly. Maeassil was next to Maedhros, sound asleep. Most likely she was there to calm him when he awoke and could be a little confused.
Nestor was the only other one besides Glorfindel who was awake, and he smiled as he walked past to check on patients.
Turning to Belegon, a wicked glimmer came to Heledhon's eyes and he carefully and quietly reached for Belegon, a hand full of sand. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Nestor quickly turn his back, not wanting anything to do with what was about to happen.
"What are you doing?" a strange voice behind him startled Heledhon, and he turned quickly to see an elf standing behind him. This elf was looking at him as though he were a bumbling idiot who was about to do something he would regret.
Heledhon was spared having to answer by Nestor, who said, "Do not worry, he has tried this before," sounding extraordinarily disinterested as he checked on his patients.
The elf looked surprised, and so turned to Heledhon, who explained, "We have been pranking each other since we were old enough to walk. Unfortunately, this prank I have tried before, unsuccessfully, but I am more than willing to give it a try now."
Heledhon then turned back to Belegon and carefully, silently, lowered his handful of sand closer to Belegon's slightly open mouth.
Before he could even think about opening his hand, a hand shot out and wrapped itself around his wrist, stopping it in mid-motion.
Looking up he saw that Belegon's eyes were focused, and he looked very, very angry.
Heledhon only gave a reckless grin, which was warning enough for Belegon. Belegon snapped his mouth and eyes shut a split second before Heledhon's handful of sand made contact with his face.
That dirty trick was Heledhon's ticket to freedom, for Belegon's hands flew to his face as he tried to get the sand off and keep it out of his eyes.
Nestor came over then and helped Belegon sit up, smacking Heledhon on the back of the head at the same time as he laughed, being as quiet as possible so as to not wake anyone. The smack apparently hurt, for Heledhon stopped laughing in an instant.
As for the other elf, he was shocked that someone could pull such a mean trick and be laughing about it.
"You think this is funny?" he asked Heledhon as the elf captain rubbed the back of his head.
"Not anymore," he said with a wince and glaring at Nestor.
Nestor, in turn, ignored him and murmured something along the lines of, "Serves you right," to which Belegon nodded in agreement, eyes still closed as Nestor carefully and gently wiped them clear and clean of sand.
Still rubbing his head, Heledhon stood and asked, "Is there something I can help you with?"
Those words seemed to remind the elf of his self-appointed mission, and he said, "My name is Oldhinor. I am in charge when both Lords Maglor and Maedhros are unable to command for whatever reason."
"Really?" Heledhon said with interest, "The twins mentioned you once, but only in passing. What do you need?"
"I would like to know when Lord Maedhros will be waking and where Lord Maglor is. I have searched the camp and cannot find him anywhere."
"Maedhros will likely wake...right now," Nestor said. A minute later he amended the statement with, "Never mind, he was just twitching."
"A rough estimate would work just fine, Master Healer," Oldhinor said with exasperation.
Nestor looked up from where he was checking Maedhros. He had already helped Belegon, who had left to see how the rest of the camp was doing and avoid Heledhon for a while. Nestor frowned as he shook his head, "Maybe a few hours, maybe a few minutes. It all depends on how much rest his body needs."
Oldhinor nodded, then turned to Heledhon, waiting for an answer regarding Maglor. Heledhon, anticipating some shouting, sighed and walked through the tent. Once outside and sensing Oldhinor behind him he said, "The twins took Maglor and Lainor back to the city."
"What!" true enough, Oldhinor's shout of surprise woke many, and all stared in shock as the two elves stared each other down, one out of anger and one with patience.
Glorfindel could be seen nearby, hand on the hilt of his blade.
Oldhinor's voice had become nothing more than a deadly whisper as he asked, "Why?"
Heledhon was again spared having to answer by Nestor, who came out of the tent when he heard the shout and said, "Both myself and the twins agreed that taking them to the city was the best chance they had. We do not have the tools, or proper herbs, here to help them. I am only a field healer, I do not have the skill to mend their wounds. It was for the best, and the palace healers are some of the best in Arda."
"The twins will not let anything happen to them," Heledhon said quietly.
Oldhinor looked ready to protest, but before he could Maedhros appeared. He was fully clothed, but still looked exhausted. He did not look as drained as before, so that was a good thing. Nestor frowned at seeing him standing, but Maedhros ignored him.
Maedhros speared Oldhinor with a glare, making him drop his head, saying, "While I do not approve of the method that was used, I know why it was used and I understand that it had to happen."
"But, my lord –," Oldhinor tried to protest, but was cut off by Maedhros.
"Do you trust the twins?" he asked, which silenced all protests and caused Oldhinor to bow his head before turning away to see about other duties that needed his attention.
Nestor made to go over to Maedhros, most likely to escort (or rather, drag) him back into the tent so that he could examine him and tend his shoulder. Before he could take even a step a sharp whistle, followed by another, even sharper one, came from the northern boundary of the camp.
Heledhon as well as Belegon and Idhrenor raced to that part of the camp, closely followed by Nestor and Glorfindel. Maedhros walked alongside Glorfindel, who watched him carefully out of the corner of his eye, distrust radiating of his frame in waves.
Making it to the boundary, Heledhon quickly looked around and noticed the tense stances of all there. Even his own men were uneasy. Turning back to the woods, Heledhon listened carefully to the hoof-beats coming closer and closer.
"Who is it?" Idhrenor asked, knowing that Heledhon most likely had the best hearing in the whole patrol.
"Men," Heledhon said, "their horses step too heavy to be elves."
"If they came from the north, then they must be of Bëor or a similar house," Glorfindel suggested quietly, "Any group trying to flank us from the south or east and come from the north would have been noticed much sooner."
Heledhon nodded, but was not allowed to reply as the horses came into camp.
The leader of the men sat tall and proud, but his eyes narrowed and his lips turned down at the sight of Maedhros. Maedhros, in turn, only raised an arrogant eyebrow.
Trying to avoid a fight, Heledhon said, "Welcome, men of the North. I am Heledhon, a captain in the ranks of High King Ereinion Gil-galad's army."
The leader turned his gaze to Heledhon, and in accented Sindarin said, "Mae govannen, Edhil o Mithlond. I am Targal, a ranger of the House of Bëor. It is an honor to make your acquaintance."
"As it is with us," Heledhon replied smoothly.
Silence fell for a moment, then one of the riders could not contain themselves anymore and blurted out, "Why do you consort with kinslayers?"
Heledhon jerked his head in surprise, for the voice was surprisingly feminine. Everyone else there was similarly surprised.
"Thynna!" Targal exclaimed, "Do not make me regret convincing your mother to let you accompany us!"
Turning to Heledhon (and ignoring Maedhros), Targal said, "I would apologize for my daughter's outburst, except that is a question I was wondering myself."
"Why call us kinslayers, Edain?" Maedhros cut in, looking as though he were enjoying this, "We did not kill any of your kind recently."
"Recently," Targal said in astonishment, "When Beren married Lúthien, their child was our kin, who your brother killed in the Sack. Elwing and her sons were and still are our kin, but Elwing fell to her death! She was as much our kin as being of elf kind! I still remember the day when we heard of the destruction of Sirion, and I was barely a boy! Many wanted to attack you, but the council decided against the idea. We did not want to lose anymore of our kin."
Outburst finished, Targal took a deep breath to calm himself and turned to Heledhon, who was shocked to hear those words; having never considered that the houses of the Edain suffered as well during the third Sack.
Everyone was silent for a moment, then Targal said, "I will reiterate what my daughter said: Why, in the name of all that is good and just in this world, are you consorting with them?" with a pointed glance at Maedhros.
Noting how the men were fingering their weapons (even the young brown haired woman), Heledhon said, "Himring was overrun recently –"
"We know this. We have been hunting orc bands for weeks," a ranger cut him off, but was silenced by a glare from Targal, who returned his attention to Heledhon.
"When a falcon arrived from Himring bearing this news, King Gil-galad decided to take their offer to aide in the fight against Morgoth."
"Just like that?" a different ranger asked.
Heledhon smiled a tight, fake smile, "I do not pretend to understand my king's reasoning. I am just a captain in charge of a patrol that is able to keep its head and do what is asked; even if its the last thing any of us want to do."
"Hmm," was all Targal uttered as he looked around at the elves gathered. His sharp, quick eyes instantly noticed something out of place, and he asked, "Where is Maglor?"
"He and another had wounds that were beyond our healers' abilities. They were taken to Mithlond last night," Heledhon answered, impervious to the shocked whispers coming from the men.
Targal raised an eyebrow, "I hope that the two who were ordered to go are trustworthy?"
"The ones that took them were the sons of Eärendil. I believe that they are beyond trustworthy," Heledhon replied, again impervious to the slight sighs of relief coming from around him. Apparently the elves of Fëanor were concerned about what might happen to Maglor and Lainor if it were somebody else taking them to Mithlond.
Hearing those words caused a satisfied glint to come to Targal's eyes, while a few of the other rangers looked grateful that the twins were well.
"How do we know you speak the truth, and that Elrond and Elros do trust you?" one of the rangers near the back of the group asked.
Targal turned to Heledhon for answers (even though he knew the ranger's question was unfounded and nothing more than a test), but Heledhon had none. How do you convince a suspicious person that your words are true? The answer, surprisingly, came from Nestor, who stepped forward and said, "The twins said we were close to your boundaries when we spoke before they left. They said, should you come to our camp, to give you this," holding an emblem with the symbol of Bëor on it out to Targal.
Targal took the emblem and ran his fingers over it. After a minute he looked up and said, "If the twins trust you enough to give you this, then I believe you. That does not mean I trust him, since he has given no one a reason to," he said as he glared at Maedhros. Maedhros, in turn, glared back.
"I understand the sentiment, but we have our orders," Heledhon stated, not backing down.
"And I will honor those orders and let the rest of our patrols know so you will not be harassed on the way to Mithlond," Targal cocked his head suddenly as a thought came to him, "If you are a captain, then you must be on King Gil-galad's council, correct?"
Heledhon nodded warily, not entirely sure where, or when, the conversation had taken such a turn.
"I make no promises," Targal said slowly, "but I believe that the three houses, or at the very least the houses of Hador and Bëor, may be willing to fight with you against Morgoth."
Heledhon was immediately interested, and said, "I will be willing to pass that message along to my king. I am sure he will think deeply on the idea."
Targal nodded in satisfaction then turned to look over his shoulder. The men immediately began to turn their horses round, but Targal remained standing forward.
"It goes without saying that you will need a good alliance with him," glancing at Maedhros, "before negotiations can even begin."
Heledhon again nodded.
Targal hesitated for a moment, then glancing behind him he said, "It would also be best if the twins led the negotiations. Our people respect them and trust them with their lives."
"I am certain that the king will do his best to accommodate you," Heledhon returned diplomatically.
Targal nodded, then reached to return the emblem to Heledhon. Heledhon took it and Targal nodded to himself for some reason.
"The twins must really like you," Targal said, "They have been given no reason to trust anyone after what they have experienced in their lives, so I am glad that they feel as though they belong somewhere. Or at the very least, Elrond. Elros made himself quite at home in our settlement, and was a very capable leader before he left to go with his brother to Mithlond. But Elrond did not seem to mold into our society, even though he was polite enough. It was clear to those capable of reading him that he felt out of place. I am glad he has found his place, since he was a very good friend."
Translations:
Nai i lissë Valaron tyë varyuva. – May the grace of the Valar protect you.
Nai i Valaron tirolla tiëlda – May the Valar watch over your path
Penneth – young one
Ainu - Valar
Ulumúri – The horns of Ulmo
Eldar – Elves
Mae govannen, Edhil o Mithlond – Well met, Elves of Mithlond.
Edain – plural form of "man"
