Blood of Innocents

By

Glorfindel's Girl

Day One, Evening: Maedhros

          Maedhros dipped his hand into the stream and swirled his fingers about, staining the water red.  It was winter, but he paid no heed to the icy cold of the water, intent only on rinsing the blood from his hand.

          "And since when does it trouble Maedhros to have bloodstained hands?"

          Maedhros clenched his jaw slightly at the sound of his brother's soft, mocking voice.  He did not reply, but stood, shook the water from his hand, and turned to face him.  His brother stood a few feet away, leaning against a massive tree trunk, his dark hair fluttering in the soft breeze.

          "Innocent blood, Maglor," he said quietly, though with a steely edge to his tone.

          Maglor laughed softly, bitterly, then strode over to Maedhros, the dried leaves which littered the forest floor crunching beneath his feet.  Maglor reached out, and wiped his hand slowly down Maedhros' right cheek, leaving a trail of blood behind.  He smiled slightly, pleased with the look of disgust in his elder brother's deep grey eyes.

          "And since when has that mattered, Maedhros?" he asked, his own grey eyes glittering with contempt. 

Maedhros wiped the blood away with his sleeve.  "There was no need to kill the woman," he said.

          Maglor shrugged slightly.  "She made her choice when she refused to stand down.  She stood in the way of our goal.  Have you forgotten our oath?"  His words were a desperate, bitter mockery of those uttered by Maedhros many times before. 

          Maedhros shook his head, his coppery hair falling into his face.  "No, I have not."  He had not missed the cruel irony in his brother's words.  He stopped, straightened the long right sleeve of his robe, habitually checking to see that it covered the place where his hand should have been.  "What of the Silmaril?

          Maedhros saw a shadow pass over Maglor's eyes.  Maglor lowered his gaze.

          "It was not there," he replied.

          "Not there?"  Maedhros repeated.  He looked down at his left hand, blood still caught beneath his fingernails and around his cuticles.  "All the blood we spilled…..for nothing?"

          Maglor raised his gaze again, and boldly met his brother's icy glare.  "It is no different than the other times," he said, his face contorted with rage.  "You mean to say that after all we have done, it is now that you suddenly become wracked by conscience?  We swore to fulfil an oath, Maedhros.  Sometimes we must endure setbacks."  He then turned, and began to walk away.

          "Do not turn your back on me, Maglor!" Maedhros said with sudden fury.  "All the lives lost, all the blood shed, you, brother, call that nothing but a setback?"

          Maglor spun around, and a cold fury was in his eyes.  "Yes, brother, I do," he spat.  "As I have learned to do from you.  From you.  And by lives lost and blood shed do you refer to our brothers or those that dared oppose us?  Do you forget that our brothers' blood stains the floor of the caves as well?  You hypocrite!  If the Silmaril had been here, would it have lessened the regret you feel?  Would it have erased the stain of blood on your hand?  Would it have made our crime less?  We swore an oath to destroy anyone who opposed us!  We must fulfil that oath!"  He stopped short, breathing heavily.

          Maedhros glared at his brother.  "That oath did not include the murder of a woman trying to protect her family.  Nor the murder of innocent children out of vengeance!"

          "And what would you call what you did at Alqualondë?  Can you even begin to grasp how many innocents perished that night?  How many husbands trying to protect their wives, how many women trying to protect their children.  Have you forgotten their pleas for mercy?  Have you forgotten the sight of their blood upon the sands?  Well if it comforts your tortured soul any, the two little boys were not killed," Maglor replied.

          Maedhros regarded his brother carefully.  "What do you mean?"

          Maglor smiled coldly.  "We did not kill them.  Celegorm's servants abandoned them deep in the forest to starve.  To die.  Alone."

          "And you dare to call me a hypocrite," Maedhros replied in a deadly whisper.  "You know they have no chance of surviving.  You have killed them."

          Maglor sneered.  "And do you know why?  Because of this oath.  Because of Atar.  Because of you."  With that, he turned and walked away, disappearing from view into the trees.

          Maedhros sank slowly to the ground, and rested his head on his hand.  Eyes closed, he wandered in dark thoughts for some time.  After a while, minutes or hours he knew not which, he rose, and a grim determination was in his face.  He knew he had to reduce the evil he and his brothers had done that day.  He was going to find the children.