I have attempted to keep the events and things mentioned in this story accurate to those presented in J. R. R. Tolkien's original work "The Silmarillion." I own nothing that was originally his creation. I have created the characters seen here save for Feonor and his sons.

The elves of the Singing Woods stared at the two once-Noldo, who knelt before them. Lathwinn looked at them straight, guarded, but kind. "Have either you 'Celuant' or you 'Mîrgolodh' anything to say before we, the judges, speak of these matters?"

Neither of those addressed looked at each other. They bowed their heads beneath the others' stares. Celuant took a breath to speak. Then a voice beside him entered his ears. "I will speak."

Sarnhael looked to Mîrgolodh who now stood though his head was still bowed. "I wish to say how healing being among all of you, here, has been for me. I have seen glorious things since coming to Arda, but also harsh, dark, and terrifying things. I have not seen the latter here in Ossiriand, however. Here only good things seem to be. Yet, it has also been terrifying and guilt-wringing for me here too, because I have been hiding from all of you what I have done."

He began to shiver. Celuant was about to reach out to him when he stopped and continued. "As the herald spoke of earlier, I was among those Noldo on the ships and among the first to attack our kin on them. I was under Feonor's spell believing him right in all things …" Mîrgolodh's voice went soft and low, but the silence all around him more than made up for that each word was clear to his listeners. "I thought any actions taken to retrieve those gems from dark Melkor Morgoth's grip, and avenge Finwe, right and more than right, but even I was shocked at Feonor's orders to take those ships no matter what me must do to gain them."

Mîrgolodh looked down at his hands. They were now shaking again. "Feonor and his sons gave me a weapon. I was in the first line as a once-student of Feonor and frequenter in his and his sons' homes. I even wore some armor his sons had given to me. So, the arrows shot at me had no effect. Then we came up to the lines of elves on their ships and I was shoved forward. An elf right before me seemed to find my very presence a bad smell. His face was twisted in rage as he met my gaze. He ran at me. A few of Feonor's sons had tried to show me what to do to make the tool they had given me kill. Somehow, my hand remembered their instructions perfectly. I thrust it into him. His head went back, neck snapping like a line of his ship yanked tight. He barely made a sound. But his blood came gushing out like a released river. I felt the warmth over my arm and saw the shock on his face. I pulled my weapon and hand back out of him. This only made the flow of his blood greater. He fell curling up like a drying leaf. I watched as he swallowed and closed his eyes. Others moved onward around him and me, more enraged, more driven, perhaps, than I. All Feonor's assurances as to the rightness of our cause bled out of me the way the blood poured out of the elf before me I had wounded. As my fellow followers of Feonor went around me, their feet also went around him, so he was not trampled, but it hardly mattered. He did not look at me any further, but straight ahead. He blinked a few times and then went still. That is all I recall until I realized my hands were red and gripping a rope and my feet were pressed into the outer side of the boat. I was hanging low under the guardrail and my back was to the sea, so no one onshore or on deck could see me. When I realized this, I began to climb. I swung myself over the guardrail and onto the deck. It was filled with Noldo. I tried to search for the ellon I had wounded, the ellon I had … killed, but the crowd was too thick. I learned later they had … removed the bodies from the ships. I heard Feonor explain to latecomers what we had done. We had won. We had won the ships, but his words no longer filled me with soaring pride and purpose. Instead, I felt fear. Yet, I did not turn back then. I could not face even 'one' of the Valar ever again not even Nienna and especially not Manwe. I fled over the sea away from them with the other Noldo. To this day, I could not look up into the face of any of them if I returned to Valinor. I cannot even look at any of you now."

The ellon was shaking again. Lathwinn raised a hand palm out toward him to stop his flow of words. "You may cease, Mîrgolodh, if you wish. We have heard your words and shall consider them together. Thank you for giving your testimony. I heard no untruth in it."

Lathwinn then looked to Celuant. "Do you have a tale to tell us too?"

Sarnhael laughed. This froze all the elves even more than Mîrgolodh's words had. Their eyes widened at its sound. It was all flatness and harsh bitterness. "Tale? Tale? You know nothing! You and your 'tales' of long journeys and slaying monsters and returning to your people! None of you know nothing of real betrayal!" He closed his eyes and remembered that day.

He strode through the silver sand dunes. The ocean's music had played long in his ears. He was laden with all the things he knew his brothers would not have thought to bring but which might mean much to them on the other shore far from their true home.

He dared not ask one of their servants to help carry anything for, and thus come with, him. He would go. He would follow his foolish brothers on this doomed journey, but he would not ask anyone else to do so.

Then he heard it, not the music of the sea, but the shouts of elves and clashing of metal upon metal. He picked up his feet. He lengthened his stride until he was running. He ran until he came within sight of the sea and the ships upon it and the elves upon them. He froze. He dropped all he carried.

The Teleri who had lovingly made those ships and his own close neighbors in the city of the Noldo fought against each other on the decks of those lovely ships. He should have expected it. Yet, he had not. He had heard no strange sounds of monsters nor Melkor's voice, but he had still thought Melkor Morgoth must have found a way to fight and kill silently or had found an ally or allies who could. He had not thought to see elves fighting elves.

Then he saw his youngest brother being punched by a Teleri. Blood spurted from his brother's nose. He expected the sea elf who had struck him to step back in horror and apologize. Instead, as his youngest brother turned his head away, the Teleri with his knuckles stained red from the other elf's blood punched his brother in the ear too driving him down onto the deck before him.

He lost his own senses.

He ran. He ran from the things he had brought still lying in the sand. He ran across the beach. He ran up the gangplank. Once on the ship, he screamed in rage. His Noldo neighbors not yet meeting the Teleri in battle looked back at and then parted before him. He ran through them. He jumped upon the backs of crouching Noldo. He finally sprang down upon the ellon who had attacked his youngest brother.

Things were no longer as he's last seen them. Now, it was the last to be born son of his parents standing upon his feet. The Teleri who has struck him now clutched his stomach and gripped the guardrail of his ship bending over it. Yet, his own fury was not lessened at this sight. The Teleri raised his gaze to look and meet his with wide eyes. He was shocked.

Shocked? How could he be shocked? He had made an ellon bleed! He had made his little brother bleed! '"Nothing" could make that right.

He landed while plunging his knife through this other elf's chest. The Teleri's eyes widened still further. Then the life faded from them.

He yanked the blade out of him and turned on other Teleri now reaching for he and his brother too. He heard another of his brothers. His eldest younger brother's cry came to his ears.

He looked for the source of the sound. Three Teleri dragged his brother into the midst of those fighting against their neighbors and close kin. He lost his grip on self-control even further than before. He slashed his short blade back and forth among Teleri. He sliced through arms and necks. His blade carved a red-spattered path to his eldest younger brother. Then he rained its steel-point down into the backs of those holding his brother down.

Their eyes looked up at him wide with shock, and he did not care. He did not care if he had seen them at parties laughing. He did not care if he had sung the praises of the Valar with them in harmony. He did not care if he could have once called them friend or kin.

They had hurt his brothers. They had attacked those he had watched grow up along with their parents, those whose first words he had heard spoken, those whose first creations he had helped them forge, those who he had loved all their shorter lives. That was all that mattered to him now.

Finally, there was no longer any living Teleri to stab, to stop. All elves not wearing armor and who smelled of the sea, the foam-riders, lay dead. Sea-grey eyes stared straight ahead or were closed. All that moved of them were strands of their hair and folds of their clothing blowing in the breeze always passing over the seashore. However, cloth or strands plastered down in darkening blood were still as stone.

He looked up and saw his eldest, younger brother staring at him with an open mouth. His eyes looked almost as dead as those of the elves lying at their feet. He looked back, swallowed, and cleared his own throat. Now, he could finally ask the first brother born after him to their parents the first question he wanted answered, "How did this start?"

Feonor's voice, which his heart had once leapt to hear, called out. "Well done! Well done! Now all will know what comes to those who try to stop our quest, who deny me what we need to keep my oath! The ships are ours! Those who are dead cannot enjoy them!"

His own mouth fell open too. He felt his heart melt and drain away within him like spilled wine. He grabbed the armored shoulders of his eldest brother and pulled him close. He now realized the metal he wore was splattered only with the blood of others, not his own. He indeed was the one who had probably stained his brother's armor so.

He begged him then, "No! No, they attacked you first! The Valar commanded them to stop you! They did more than the Valar asked by spilling the blood of their kin! Tell me that was how it was! Tell me! Tell me! No!"

Finally, the eyes not meeting his lifted. The head they were placed in only swung back and forth. Tears filled those eyes matching his own, but his brother remained silent before him.

Sarnhael spoke on in a flat voice now among elves garbed in green listening to his "tale" as he recalled it as he recalled being a different elf. "I had known for a long time Feonor was mad. I had stopped listening to him, believing anything he said unless he spoke of Melkor and his evil. I had made blades partly in case I needed to defend myself or family from him or any enemies he had made who would then attack their friends. My brothers were often in his sons' company. When I saw a brother bleed, I asked no questions. I only jumped in to do Feonor's will as it turned out. And yet, I still followed him to continue protecting my brothers who had become fools … Now, judge me as you will … I regret it all … Even defending my brothers ..."

What do you think will happen now?

God Bless

ScribeofHeroes