Surrogate Jewels - Chapter Eight
Maedhros




I have never felt this way. I wonder if any elf ever has before me. It is... unpleasant, I have decided, and a little frightening. I want to do... strange things. I want to break things.

Maglor, my dear brother... You foolish, persistent, silly elf. This is so infuriating for me. And it is so very like you.

From my window, I watch my brother in the fields below, teaching the Peredhil how to ride horses. The actual lesson lasted for approximately one half of an hour. And now the children ride naturally, as if born on a horse's back. Maglor watches them with a smile. Even from here, easily from here, I can see that it is a prideful and parental smile he wears.

Spite. Drat! Maglor, do not be dense! They are not smiling because of you; they are smiling because of the wind in their hair and the sun in their eyes. They are not happy for your company; they are happy for the distraction from it. Ai!

I sincerely want to break something, and I do not enjoy wanting such a thing... I leave the window, then my chamber, and go sit in the darkest room I can find, and brood.

A memory comes to my recollection of a time not long ago, when Maglor rushed to me in a breathless frenzy, his eyes red from suppressed tears and his face contorted with dire worry. I had actually been searching for him at the time, because I noticed a panicked hustle in the step of every elf I passed that day, though each of them I questioned insisted that nothing was out of the ordinary. So I meant to ask Maglor about it, naturally.

"The Peredhil have escaped," he said before I could speak, nearly choking on his words. And then I understood the servants at least, for such was indeed nothing unusual.

"Ah," I said, "so they are hiding again... Well, post sentries at the kitchens, for that is surely where they will reappear first, once the pangs of hunger assault their little tummies."

Maglor nodded firmly, not at all sated by my attempted placidity. "No. It is not like the last times... They have been missing all day, possibly even since last night."

I frowned. "How is this any different?"

He became irate in short time, and scowled deliberately at me. "Because they normally are found within a matter of hours, Maedhros! Is there nothing you notice?"

I could not help but retaliate, so foul was my mood already that day. "By the love of Iluvatar, do compose yourself, brother... You whine like a mortal."

He took offence, visible only in his eyes.

"They will be found eventually, like always. What is the worst that could happen?" I asked.

"They could be hurt!" he snapped.

I replied nothing, for reasons I still do not know. Maglor eyed me with daggers, and silently left on his way, on his senseless search, like a pup trailing devoutly after its misplaced pack. Just like that, he chose the Peredhil over me, and it was not the first time.

That very afternoon I rode out on my stallion for higher grounds, to overlook the landscape. It took me not an hour to spot them; on the opposite range as I, much to my annoyance. I counted the amount of hours I had already traveled for, concluding that it would be nearing sundown by the time I reached them o'er yonder...

I swore under my breath and prayed to Iluvatar that one of them would slip and sprain something, so they would not get much further before I caught up to them.

It was indeed twilight ere I came upon them finally. "You are slow walkers," I said as I exposed myself from the dense swell of trees, halting my steed in front of them to block their path. They froze in surprise, knowing better than to attempt to flee, for I was mounted and they were tired.

I was also more than a little bothered by that time, and slipped from my horse at once. I crossed the distance of mere meters between us and was hard pressed not to sling the little whelps over my shoulders like the insolent misfits they were. But I decided that they deserved a chance, if for nothing other than my brother's sake.

"Speak this instant, sons of Earendil, for you do owe apologies and explanations... and I would hear them at once."

One of them, in his seven year-old indignity, spat at my feet. The other, arms crossed, tipped his head towards my horse behind me and said, "Amazing he did not throw you like the troll you are."

Him, I cuffed across the cheek, and when his twin leapt at me in his brother's defense, I repeated the heinous affront. They both recovered quickly and without a single sound of protest. My only thought was that my brother would have my other hand if he learned of what I had just done.

"Peredhil," I said to them, their eyes firmly averted from my person. But that was just as well, for I did not want to see the pain and fear no doubt brewing in the storm. "You have no idea what distress you have delivered unto my brother this day. He is devastated with worry, thinking you fallen to some ill fate!"

"Then he is wise," said one to the dirt between his feet.
"Though he could still be confirmed his fears," added the other coolly.
"Would that he only knew of our foul ordeal in these woods," spoke the first, now brave enough to again meet my eyes.
"Wonder what he would do," finished the second, glaring up at me as well.

It was almost as unnerving, watching them construct a single sentence between them both, as it was being on the receiving end of their matching gazes... Their eyes shone like unforgiving stars under the moon's light, glowing hatefully at me, and glittering with malicious intent.

"Curse you both," I hissed. "You would see an even deeper chasm split twixt my brother and I, simply for your own twisted pleasure of control."

They displayed matching scowls, one saying, "You do not need us for that."
And the other, "You do not need us for anything."
Then the first, "Save for your own twisted pleasure of control."

My irritation warranted me to speak inaccurately. "No," I answered, "I do not need you at all." But of course I did. They were potential shields against seekers of vengeance for the crimes of my house, as well as bargaining stock for my father's Silmarils. "And nor do I enjoy your company," I added, and that at least was the truth.

"Then you do keep us because it pleases you that you can," one sneered. The other remained silent, a sour expression on his face.

"No, not I. But you do amuse my brother." Their lips curled in disgust, delighting me. I then stepped right up to the little whelps and one after the other slung them over each shoulder like the insolent misfits they were. They did not try to kick me in the face, as I might have suspected of them, and also to my surprise their bodies felt as light as the clothes they wore.

At first I thought to tie a rope around their waists and have them walk behind my horse for the return journey, but decided that might be a tad severe. And besides, they already seemed overly tired. So I put them both on my horse, and would have fed them had I brought any food with me. As it was I could not even give them water, since my canteen I had also neglected to carry. But they did not ask for anything of the like, and probably would have refused any offer of mine, regardless.

I mounted behind them, and as we began the long ride home, I said by way of provoking, "The last time we rode together you children sniveled and fussed the entire way... Is there something now the matter?"

I saw from their profiles their little noses wrinkle at my subtle ridicule, and they stiffened in irritation. One murmured, "We were practically babies..."

I did not bother to tell him that they practically still were babies.

Then the other one said shamelessly, "I want to see the stars clearly before I am locked away."

I choked back a laugh. He actually kept from crying so he could see the stars without them blurred by tears, because he thought he would be 'locked away'...? The child was as bright as he was dim. "Maglor will not lock you away for this," I said.

"Why not?" the other Peredhel challenged.

"Because he knows not what would be best for him."

The rest of the ride back was uneventful. The Peredhil kept their little chins up the whole while, and made no apparent notice of the unfriendly glances they received once we arrived at the stables. I gathered that Maglor must have sent many riders out since my departure, for several horses were missing, and the servants looked quite overworked and harried.

The horse-hand that came to take my stallion utterly ignored the Peredhil as he greeted me formally, then regarded my tired steed. "Well," the servant said dryly, "this poor horse has been quite put upon tonight... Trekking all that way and bearing so much weight."

The Peredhil bristled at his innuendo, that they were at fault for my 'poor' horse's strain, and I couldn't help myself but to reply, "Nay, these two are not so healthy, and hardly weigh a thing between them. Light as little ticks, really. I doubt my good horse even noticed."

I did not see the stable-hand's reaction, as I was engrossed with the flush of fury on the children's cheeks. Well, serves them right! I thought that perhaps then they would eat something, for the love of Iluvatar, and my brother could sleep at night.

Once dismounted, I bid my horse a good night and promised him a special treat on the morrow for his service. Then I removed the Peredhil and brought them to the main house.

I was sure by that time my brother had gotten word of my return with his wards, so I worried not for seeking him out. Instead, I took the children straight to the kitchens, and told them to sit down. I had ordered any servants therein to excuse themselves, so the room was empty save for us three. It occurred to me at the time that the library, or even my brother's own quarters, might have been a more appropriate place to await Maglor... But the fact of the matter was that I liked the kitchen room, for no particular reason. And besides that, I was hungry. Also, it seemed reasonable that Maglor would look for us there... or perhaps I do not think so clearly when I had not eaten in very long, and I had not.

I fixed a simple but ample tray of breads, cheeses and dried fruits, then joined the Peredhil at the square wooden table, which usually was employed for kneading dough upon instead of dining. I set the tray in the center of the table, seated myself, and gestured to the plate. "Please, help yourselves," I offered politely, and waited for the refusal I knew would come.

As I expected, the children were not hungry, or pretending such was the case, and thus ignored the food and their host. I shrugged, and ate. "Usually living creatures are born with the inherent sense to feed themselves, you know..." I remarked casually. The twins folded their arms and stared at opposite walls in response.

After a while of waiting for Maglor in vain, I brought out some wine for myself. With a doubtful grin, I asked the children, "Do either of you care for wine?"

They answered naught, as I thought they would. "A shame. Drinking some might have had a positive effect on your charming little dispositions this night," I sniggered, and sat back down. "Well, if there is anything you want, you shall have to ask me for it, because otherwise I plan not to get up again for a very long while."

I leaned back with my wine, savoring the sweet flavor of the tonic as well as the tart look of frustration on the children's faces. I was fairly certain that if I had placed water in front of them, they would have drunk. Maybe even if I had put a biscuit under their noses they might have eaten. But it was not going to be that easy for them. Not after all of the grief they caused that day. No. If they wanted to eat, they would do so from the same plate as their caretaker, and if they wanted water, they should have to ask for it: nicely. If Maglor had been demanding similar behavior all along, they might have been humbled already.

Eventually I finished the wine, and became bored with my rest. I decided to find my brother after all. Or at lease get the children off of my... hand.

"Come along then," I said as I stood. "I'm certain you two will want to retire to your room and begin planning your next escape." I laughed plenty at myself, thanks to the wine, and ushered the children out to the main hall, where my brother was strolling straight towards us.

Unbelievably, Maglor looked even more haggard than he had before. "Where have you been?" I asked.

He spared me only a quick glance, saying, "Out looking for them, of course." He then dropped to his knees, and pulled the Peredhil into a hug. "Thank Iluvatar!" I heard him praise. He separated himself from the children and searched their faces carefully. "Are you both all right?" he asked, naturally receiving neither answer to his question nor appreciation for his concerns.

I rolled my eyes as my brother thoroughly examined Earendil's sons limb by limb, I guessed checking for injury... "Stop fawning over them, Maglor. They are fine," I insisted, adding, "thanks to me."

Maglor rose at that, and studied me with a blank expression. "Yes, I was told that you pursued them..."

"Pursued, located, and retrieved them, and you are quite welcome for it," I snapped.

He scowled at my tone and looked me up and down, as if searching for the source of my arrogance, or perhaps for the reason I swayed slightly as I stood. "It was the least you could do," he hissed scornfully, and picked up the Peredhil, who hardly even noticed, looking by then to be nearly asleep on their feet.

With nothing else, he turned and left me.

And now here I am, sitting in the dimmest corner of the darkest room I could find, realizing that from that night on, I have felt like breaking something.

It has come to my knowledge that Gil-galad and a decent-sized host has sailed from Balar...
I sense dark times ahead...
My brother and I have not spoken in long...
I find myself forfeiting my rest, and worrying ceaselessly about everything, anything, and nothing...
The ghost of my right hand has been itching constantly...
I am no closer to regaining the Silmarils...
I fear I am losing my mind...

All because of them.

They are mending, and now I worsen. I who was always strongest, I who was always in control... I who wants for the first time in my life to break someone knowingly. No... some thing. Yes, some inanimate thing. Not a person, not a spirit, not a matching set of Mixed-breeds... I am glad that they are better now. Truly.

I just wish they had not taken my last living brother from me in order to get that way.


***continued***