A/N: Thank you to Tash for Beta reading this. Although she has no notion of the Silmarillion, she still looked through it and gave me some helpful suggestions, so thanks.
My first Silmarillion based fic, I've been reading Tolkien's books for a long time, but I hadn't the courage or ideas for a fic. But one major gap in the plot left me wondering
Of the fates of Eluréd and Elurín
"[Maedros] sought for them long in the woods of Doriath; but his search was unavailing, and of the fate of Eluréd and Elurín no tale tells." –Of the ruin of Doriath, The Silmarillion.
They were taken at unawares. The sons of Fëanor marched upon Doriath nigh on half way through winter. Elf slayed elf for the second time in history; thus by Dior's sword fell three of the brothers-Celegorm, Curufin and Caranthir, but he also was victim of the oath, along with Nimloth his wife. Eluréd and Elurín, their two young sons, were seized by servants of Celegorm and taken into the forest to starve.
**
"Eluréd, where are we?" whispered Elurín, the younger, and weaker of the two.
"Hush." He did not want his brother to know he was scared.
Together they made their way deeper into the woods of Doriath, where they had seldom been, and had no wish to be.
"We will rest here tonight Elurín."
They were standing by the vague form of a huge oak, that stretched up into the darkness. Obediently Elurín rested his frail back against the trunk and closed his eyes while Eluréd settled down next to him, aware of his brother's constant shivers and chattering teeth. It was hardly comfortable, and he fell into uneasy dreams, echoes and screams of the victims of Doriath pursued him; he could see his mother, Nimloth, valiantly fighting till the end, and his father Dior also.
Eluréd woke first with a start. His breath blew little clouds of air in front of him and he watched them disperse for a while before waking Elurín.
"We must leave, Elurín, we cannot linger, the cold is treacherous."
Wearily they got up, forsaking sleep for the harsh light of day. The trees seemed as strange forms, leering down at them from above, while a fine mist hung in the air, obscuring their vision. The atmosphere was hostile, and nervously picking their way among the roots and brambles, the brothers valiantly straggled on. They sought desperately for any sign of recognition, but in vain.
"Eluréd…" Elurín's words came out croakily. They were not talking unless they had to, trying to conserve their energy, in case…they knew not, but it was an instinct they both possessed.
Eluréd turned to his brother in concern. He did not look well, his skin was tinged unusually pale and he lingered farther and farther behind him.
"I am hungry. Can you remember the last meal we had?"
Yes, Eluréd could. They were sitting in one of the vast halls of Menegroth, beside their parents, sister Elwing, and numerous other elves. Torches and fires burned bright around them, the food glistened on their plates, steamy vapours rising from it, the odours mingling into one, mouth wateringly good smell. Safe. But no, they were no longer warm and safe. A gust of wind cut through Eluréd's thin clothing, reminding him of this all the more.
"There is no use thinking of that." Eluréd snapped, annoyed with himself for reliving memories that could no longer exist.
Elurín looked at him, surprised and hurt by the reprimand.
I am only thinking of him, thought Eluréd, if he dwells on the past, he will not make it. But twisting round, he added: "There is road ahead of us. Do not look behind."
He took Elurin's hand in his to warm it. It was freezing but he could hardly feel it, for both their hands were numb.
They passed a wild berry bush, which was not completely frozen, and after spending a while trying to detach them from the leaves, they gorged themselves whole-heartedly. Momentarily contented, Elurín began singing under his breath; a song his mother had taught him, of stars and the waterfall of Lanthir Lamath. For a second time, Eluréd quietened his brother.
"We do not know what is roaming in these woods anymore. Nowhere is safe." After uttering these words he realised those were not the appropriate ones. Elurín abruptly stopped his tune, and asked:
"Are there…orcs?"
"I do not know, but who can tell these days?" For Eluréd alone of the two had listened in awe and apprehension to his father's tales of bands of orcs, who were known to have ransacked areas of Northern Doriath in acts of boldness, plundering and setting alight each dwelling they came upon.
"What of…balrogs?"
"What would you know of balrogs Elurín?"
"I heard father's tales once, same as you." Elurín was proud and defiant.
"There are no balrogs in these woods." Eluréd's words were as much to comfort his brother as to himself.
Presently, they arrived by a river.
"This must be Esgalduin. We must cross it."
"Why?"
"We cannot go back, and we cannot go round."
Elurín began to cry.
"I'm cold."
"Can you never stop Elurín? Whimpering and crying will not get us across. Why did I not leave you in Menegroth?" He knew his words to be too harsh, and that he was not the one who had decided that they should be plucked from their home, but Eluréd knew of no other way to reason with his small brother.
"A boat", he piped up suddenly, "we should use a boat."
"Oh good thinking Elurín. Do you happen to see one floating down the river? Or perhaps you imagine we could make one, with dead, frozen, lifeless branches."
Elurín's young face parted into a frown, his lips turning down at the sides. Without a word he approached the bank and bent down; with one small finger he touched the river. Eluréd watched from a distance, unsure of his brother's mind. Then Elurín hiked up his tunic, and slowly, awkwardly he dipped the very tip of his toe into the freezing water. He gave a little cry of surprise, but undeterred, he plunged his foreleg in, and then the other leg, and started wading across. The cold was unbearable, the treacherous water licked at his knees, sharp as knives.
"Elurín! Wait!" Eluréd cried. Without a thought he dashed into the river, after his brother.
Elurín had hardly reached the middle when he slipped in and let out a cry. Eluréd swam the few strokes to his brother and hauled him up.
"You imbecile. Are you trying to drown yourself?" Roughly he grasped Elurín's shoulder and pulled him to the opposite bank. If before the brothers had been cold, this was far worse. The water clung to every part of them, their hair, their clothing and body. A brisk wind shook the trees, making their fine garments stick to their skin. Elurín did not complain, though he was completely soaked and had lost his boots in the water. A thousands swords penetrating them from all sides, thought Eluréd. As they marched, the silence opressed him so he tried to whistle quietly to himself, but the air was so cold, and his lips so dry he soon gave up. The day was drawing to a close as the vessel of Tilion appeared in the sky. Eluréd stopped.
"We will rest now, among the shadows here."
Elurín merely nodded, too tired, too cold, too hungry and far too weak to notice where they were. He had not uttered a word since the river crossing. Eluréd took off his cloak and laid it, clumsily but tenderly over his brother. Wearily, he closed his eyes and tried to find sleep. It would not come. Would they survive? Would they survive the night? Would they find their way back to Menegroth? Like flies the questions buzzed inside Eluréd's head. He had not dared to think of his parents. It was too soon. He only had to picture them, to say their names- and a sob rose in his throat. He choked it back down with difficulty. If he were to cry, how would Elurín fare? He needed to be strong, for him, for him only…
As the thin, watery sun rose, it warmed Eluréd enough to wake him. He sat up. His muscles hurt from being clenched against the cold and from lying against the bare ground. He turned to his brother, and gaped.
Elurín's eyes were shut, and little pearly drops of ice had formed there, as crystal tears. His skin was white no more, for blue it had become, the veins along his neck hardly bluer in comparison. His little hands still clenched Eluréd's cloak, in a death-like grasp. His mouth was parted in a thin smile; Elurín had forsaken Middle Earth.
Eluréd knelt by his younger brother, and kissed his icy forehead.
"Goodbye, brother mine," he murmured. He hoped his brother would walk again in the Blessed Realm, beside Dior and Nimloth, their parents.
He had not the heart to take back his cloak and instead, wrapped his brother up in it. The ground was solid as rock, he had no hope of burying Elurín properly. Still, he hollowed out an area as best he could; half dragged half carried his brother and gently covered all with a thin layer of soil, and leaves. On finding a smooth stone he carved with a sharp stick: "Here lies Elurín, son of Dior and Nimloth, brother of Eluréd and Elwing." After weeping for what seemed like a long time, he cast a last look at his brother's final resting place, before turning on his heel and trudging away.
A/N: Seeing as we don't know anything of Eluréd and Elurín, I took it upon myself to give them their own personalities, and weaknesses. So you may wonder why Elurín dies, though he had an extra cloak, but he is the younger brother, the weaker one, who easily succumbs to external hazards. Eluréd however, is more strongly built, which could explain why he survived the night. We are never specifically told, but Elurín and Eluréd are meant to be twins, so if I say one is younger than the other, you can interpret it as meaning Eluréd came into the world before Elurín, or that they are not twins at all, but separated but a few years.