A/N: You have been warned.

Part 2

I woke to Elros nudging me frantically awake. I gave him a highly irritated look.

"Elros, stop—"

He clapped a hand over my mouth and gestured sharply at the door and that's when I heard it; uneven footsteps. Angry uneven footsteps. They were coming fast.

I sat up straight next to him and pulled the blanket up as if it could actually protect us.

My heart pounded with premonition that something here was very very wrong...

Someone fiddled with the handle, struggling to unbolt the door from the outside. Elros' quick breath puffed in my face.

A towering silhouette staggered into the frame of light pouring from the doorway like a phantom come to torment us in our sleep. It was Russandol. Russandol holding the largest broadsword I'd ever seen.

He staggered forward unevenly, reaching out a hand as if to brace himself against a wall where there was none.

Bile rose in my chest. Something was very wrong with him. Raw, swirling emotion rolled off of him in waves so intense, I felt that I was going to melt into the stones.

He came forward several more agonized steps so the moonlight slanted across his face. His eyes didn't even lighten under the beams of Tilion as they should, but lolled from side to side before narrowing in on Elros and I, huddled in the juncture between the floor and the wall.

Elros was trembling and so was I. He was frozen, unable to move, forgetting to breathe. The whites of his eyes glowed.

A sheen of blue licked the broadsword held in Russandol's hand. His chest heaved as he advanced. He came close enough for me to see the tear streaks glistening on his face, and something unidentifiable stirred within me.

There was agony in his eyes with a fire lit behind it.

Elros' rough, gasping breaths grated on my ears. He could hardly spare the breath to speak. "He's going to kill us..."

I shook my head. I wouldn't have noticed that I was crying had not the cellar been cold enough to freeze the tears before they dripped off my jaw.

Russandol's tears clung to his jaw too, like saliva drooping from the jowls of a starved wolf.

He's going to kill us.

My eyes fixed on the glittering sword. I got to my feet, pins and needles stabbing viciously at them as if screaming at me to get down. Elros clung to my legs and tried to stand as well, to no avail.

I felt that I was going to pass out. No words passed my lips no matter how hard I willed them to.

Russandol's voice rumbled low and deep. "I cannot bear the sight of you…"

Fear knifed into my heart in all its cold brutality.

The sword came up. Elros let out a shrill scream and clawed at the frosty walls in attempt to stand.

I could only stare, my back pressed against the wall, Maglor's blanket at my feet, as blade nipped the soft flesh at my throat. I was as frozen as the tears on my face.

The only sound in the room was the shriek of the wind and Russandol's labored breaths, mist puffing from his mouth like a fire drake savoring its own smoke. Elros was sobbing and mumbling incoherent pleas.

The blade pressed in sharper, the tip forcing my chin up where it hovered shakily. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the whirlwind of chaos within Russandol's. His resolve seemed to waver with each passing second I stared into his eyes, and I wondered what bitter memories were going through his mind. I silently willed them to cause him to spare me.

His breath was more bitter than the memories. But even I knew that one couldn't drown bitter with bitter.

Footsteps rang down the hall. Maglor Maglor Maglor, save me… help...

Blood trickled into the collar of my tunic in small rivulets. The steel was cold... colder than anything as it slid into my flesh.

Elros screamed again when he saw the blood.

Maglor appeared in the doorway and ran forward, letting out a gasp of shock.

"NELYAFINWË, NO! STOP—!"

Russandol flinched and sent a panicked look over his shoulder to where Maglor was running forward, then seemed to make his decision in a split second.

The blade disappeared, then flashed in my periphery. Not a second later, white-hot pain exploded in my neck. Warmth trickled down my chest. I caught a glimpse of Maglor's hand fisting around the blade before blackness threw me into its lonely domain. I collapsed to the stone floor and the last thing I felt was a hand closing about my bleeding throat.

I only wished I could have told Elros goodbye.

oOo

I don't know how many days later it was that I woke, only that the ceiling looked very much like the fortress at Amon Ereb and not the Halls of Mandos.

(A room, not the cellar!)

My throat throbbed with pain. A hand was squeezing mine and somebody gasped as my bleary vision adjusted. Something scratchy was wrapped around my neck and I hooked a finger beneath it but someone pulled my hand away.

Oh, Elros. His eyes were red and his cheeks blotchy. My heart wilted for him; he must've thought I was dead. In truth, so had I.

I squeezed his hand extra tight, in apology, and he all but collapsed on top of me, sobbing into my hair. I'd never seen him cry so much before.

I simply held him. "It's alright." (It wasn't.) "I'm here now." (For how long?) "I won't leave you ever again."

I won't leave you ever again, I vowed silently.

That was what Elros had wanted to hear. He sniffed and sat up after kissing my brow.

"I love you," he mumbled. A smile pulled at the corners of my mouth and half-lidded eyes. He never stooped to actually saying the words, and it brought warmth to my heart that he did. He must've been terrified of losing me. I squeezed his hand to tell him I loved him too.

Another face appeared over Elros' shoulder and I stiffened. It was Maglor. I couldn't help but feel cross with him for coming too late and giving Elros such a scare.

I must have been scowling, because the Fëanorion's relieved smile pressed into a thin line. I turned away from him, looking back to Elros whose face was pained. I was honestly surprised my brother hadn't already run the ellon out of the room.

"He is helping you. He fixed your wound," Elros said, glancing at Maglor with an expression that was half loathsome and half hopeful.

Elros moved to give Maglor room to sit at my side. I was uncomfortable, but at least I wasn't cold as I had been in the cellar.

The ellon's hand slipped back to caress my hair as the other one unfastened the bandage at my neck. His eyes were soft, and violet half-moons were stamped under them. I almost wished he was hold me again.

Elros watched with worried eyes as Maglor ran a finger where there were presumably stitches in my neck. The skin was extraordinarily sensitive and I shuddered a bit.

"I'm so sorry, penneth, I had no idea. I should have gotten there sooner, but I didn't think that he'd—" Maglor swallowed and cut off. His voice was almost scared, his eyes gentle. My heart softened. I forgave him. Anything otherwise wouldn't do any good.

I took his (scarred, calloused) hand and pressed it to my cheek. Maglor seemed to be holding his breath. I hugged his forearm and leaned into the warmth of his hand, just wanting someone to hold me. Sleep came soon after.

oOo

This time I awoke, it was with thoughts of Russandol.

I was trying to think why—

That was it. Just why.

I was innocent. I was a child. Perhaps killing children came easier to Russandol--a kinslayer already--but I refused to think of him as heartless.

Maybe I did hate him, but it was difficult for me to stay that way for long.

There had been something... something in his eyes. The stagger to his step and the bitterness on his breath revealed his prior endeavors, certainly. He had not been in his right mind, but that was no excuse. Not for me.

Maglor evidently had no idea that Russandol even had such desires to be rid of Elros and I.

Or maybe he did...

I quickly shook my head to rid myself of the musings. Maglor was the warmest thing in this cursed fortress, and murderer or not, I couldn't afford to lose his affection. Or care, at least.

I felt guilty for even considering that possibility, remembering the way his eyes had been red and puffy with tears the first night he came down to bring us blankets. It gave me the impression that Russandol was the real ruler here, and Maglor too was afflicted with his chaos, in a way.

It only made me want to like Maglor more.

I only sighed and stared up at the ceiling, missing the stars but also grateful that the room didn't have a window (as most of them in this fortress were pane-less) to let a dreadful amount of cold in.

What a change this warm bed was in comparison to the cellar that had felt more like a dungeon than anything else.

Elros was sleeping next to me, his head on my shoulder and his arm around my waist. I patted his hair fondly and felt at the bandage around my aching neck with the other. Why was it so dreadfully scratchy?

The door opened and Maglor entered with another steaming tray. My mouth watered, and I selfishly let Elros remain asleep for the time being. My mood lifted at the mere sight of the ellon.

Maglor gave me a tired smile that made my heart jump as he set down the tray and took the linen napkin off of it so it would cool. To my disappointment, it was only watered-down broth instead of the real food that I craved.

I huffed and Maglor sat down on the edge of the bed (on my side), pushing his hair behind his ear. I stared up into his face.

His face was young—and now that I really looked at him—extraordinarily beautiful. The scars trailing over his brow, and under his chin to the corner of his mouth, looked very misplaced. A sheet of his ebony hair slipped forward and he mindlessly brushed it back again. I wondered why he didn't wear braids like all the warriors back at Sirion.

Perhaps he wasn't really a warrior. The thought excited me, for it was yet another mystery to unravel.

Maglor chuckled at the way my face must have fell when I saw what he had brought to eat.

"Something light for now, penneth. You haven't eaten in a while and wouldn't want to make yourself sick with too much."

He took a cloth from the basin on the side of my bed and wrung the water from it, dabbing at my face with it. I grimaced to let him know it was very unnecessary (I was no longer sporting any fever).

Something flashed on his finger and I didn't think before reaching out to take his hand and inspect it. His hands were lined with scars and callouses (and a small cut from when he grasped Russandol's blade) that I felt shouldn't be there.

But there was a ring on his finger. A simple silver band with engraving on it that I couldn't make out in the low light. I twirled it around his finger, but it wouldn't come off when I pulled. He probably hadn't removed it for a while for it to be this stuck.

"She wouldn't love me," he said solemnly. "Not anymore."

I looked up at him. That's what it was. He would fit in far better in some garden with the elleth he'd married, rather than living here in this ugly old fortress, with ugly old scars, and a brother that didn't seem to care for much at all.

I wondered if it had anything to do with the disturbing fact that the brother was missing a whole hand.

I released Maglor's hand, looking down at Elros when he shifted in his sleep. I couldn't sit up to drink the broth until he got off of me, and neither of us wanted to wake him.

Maglor didn't seem to find the silence uncomfortable. I didn't either. But I had questions that weren't for Elros' ears, and I didn't know when else I'd get the opportunity.

"Why does Russandol want to kill us?"

It was a simple, innocent question, and I almost regretted asking it for the way Maglor's face crumpled into grief.

I reached out and patted his hand to make it a bit better.

He considered the question far too long just to produce such a senseless answer:

"He doesn't."

I tugged pointedly at the bandage around my neck and gave him a questioning look.

"He was not in his right mind," Maglor said, as if that was enough for him. I pursed my lips, unsatisfied. That fact was blatantly obvious.

"He needed to have the thought first when he was in his right mind, so he did not have to think about it when he was not."

Maglor gave me an odd look, as if I were a tomato plant that had sprouted a pomegranate.

"I suppose so..."

Then, I asked the forbidden question that made my heart beat just a little bit faster: "Did you know about the thought Russandol had?"

He hesitated and my heartbeat sped up.

"...No," he said finally. "I knew he did not want you two here, I just never would have imagined that he would—"

Maglor broke off again and took a deep breath, pushing the stubborn lock of hair back behind his ear before folding his hands neatly back in his lap.

I almost wished he'd just say it.

"Why? We do not eat much."

Then his face became very stricken. My heart clenched this time.

"I do not rightly know..." he said, as if not really wanting to talk about it at all. A swallow and a deep breath. "We had brothers, though. They were the youngest. Twins, just like the two of you. We found their bodies at Sirion right before I found you and Elros. Children... they were still such children..."

Every line of Maglor's face was contorted into such mellow misery, that I couldn't help but feel the burn of tears.

"Perhaps, when he looks at the two of you... or thinks of you, even; he is reminded of our little Ambarussar."

I didn't understand why that would make Russandol want to kill me, but it was good enough for now. I didn't want to see Maglor sad anymore.

I collected Elros and carefully deposited him onto the bed so I could move around. He barely stirred. I stroked his hair a few times before turning to Maglor and wrapping my arms around him without warning.

I didn't see his face, but I felt his surprise in the way he stiffened, and in the way his heartbeat began to race where I had my ear pressed against his chest.

Eventually he relaxed and held me too, and I couldn't help but feel comfort.

His hand brushed the bandage. "I know it will be difficult... but try to give Russandol a second chance? Will you do that for me, Elrond?"

An interesting offer.

"Or else?"

I could feel Maglor frown. "What do you mean?"

"What happens if I don't?"

The frown deepened. "Nothing, I suppose."

The answer satisfied me. Now I could feel more safe.

A few beats of comfortable silence passed. I never once let him go.

"Russandol came down to see you often, you know. He is the one that put the stitches in, not I."

My eyes widened. Instinctively, a hand came up to shield my tender throat.

"He would sit here, and hold your hand and apologize to you while you were unconscious."

I scoffed. While I was unconscious. Much good that would do...

"Did Elros hit him?" I knew my brother wouldn't let anything resembling danger within a mile of me. Russandol was perhaps the very definition of 'danger' to him now. He wouldn't have let the ellon anywhere near me if he could help it, bless him.

"Elros couldn't handle the blood."

The thought only made me sad. He'd fainted, then. That was the only thing that would stop him. It was a wonderful opportunity to tease him about his squeamishness, but considering the circumstance, that would be very cruel.

A few more beats of silence.

"Why haven't I seen Russandol, then?"

Maglor considered that. "I think he scares himself as much as he scares anyone else."

That was an interesting thought. It didn't answer my question, though. Ai, it wasn't much use prying. I didn't want to see him any time soon anyways. Neither would Elros allow it.

Elros even squirmed in his sleep as if sensing the rabid possibility of Russandol and I being in the same room together. It would have to happen eventually, but I didn't want to think of it now.

My throat never ceased throbbing in time with my heartbeat, and it hurt like a corner of hell, but I prided myself in holding my composure and keeping quiet about it.

Maglor pulled me into his lap with slow movements, as if he wasn't sure I would like it. He was wrong; I wanted to be held very much.

Resting my temple against his chest, I took his hand to inspect it again.

"You are not a warrior." Maglor seemed to balk a bit at the comment, so I was quick to add on, "Not really, anyway. Not before you left home."

I didn't really know that; it was just a guess. But a correct guess, judging by the way his face made that odd expression again at me.

"No," a sigh. "Not before I left home."

Elbereth, did I have to pry every single detail from him?

"What were you, then?"

"A minstrel."

I don't know what I had been expecting, but it had certainly not been that. Music was a very bright thing. Everything I remember others saying about the Fëanoryn was never bright. Perhaps that is why it bewildered me so.

"Are you very good?"

I didn't think the question particularly funny, but Maglor laughed heartily enough at it that he almost woke Elros.

I realized then that it was the first time I'd heard him laugh. It was a warm, warm thing and it lifted my heart.

He removed me from his hold and lowered me down next to Elros who immediately rolled over to cage me in his arms as if it were his primal instinct. It made me smile.

Maglor drew up the covers, his eyes still crinkled in somewhat of a smile.

"Perhaps I shall play you a lullaby, sometime."

Yes, I would like that very much.

oOoOoOo

A/N: Part 3 is finished and will be up soon :). Sorry, no fluff.

Thoughts?