Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: Egalmoth/Rog, Maeglin/Salgant
Warnings: AU, canon-levels of Everything
Chapter: 1
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate and/or mynameisjessejk, Plot & OC´s © by me
Authors note: Set in the Otter(less) Mayhem Universe of abovementioned mynameisjessejk on AO3. Unofficial sequel to 'The House of the Mole'
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The road to hell is paved with good intentions. It was a Mannish saying, but it painfully described quite a few elvish happenings, including the darkest day for the Gondolindrim since the Fall of Sirion. The incident in Cirith Oron would also prove a good example of mistakes of compassion.
The ten men were riding on the road high above the fast-flowing river that would pass north of New Gondolin. It was one of the few paths to cross the Pelori in this stretch, the next best being several days of extra travel. The road was wide here, comfortably holding three horses - or four squeezed close - abreast without having to get near the sharp decline on one side.
Near the back of the group, Ecthelion and Salgant were in something of a competition and-or cooperation of song, Salgant skillfully plucking on his travel-harp while Ecthelion alternated between his own instrument and singing. The two were making up Lord-specific remixes and covers of 'The Lay Of The Helmet Point', to the great annoyance and amusement of their friends, depending on who was currently the victim.
Up ahead, on a widely carved waypoint, Turgon was preparing for lunch, having ridden ahead under gales of laughter when it had been his turn to suffer a remix that had included two whole verses about the time long ago when Glorfindel and Ecthelion had dragged him into his own fountain. Clearly, the bullying of his sister had pervaded even his Lords...
Therefore Egalmoth was now the nominal head of the mounted procession, throwing back suggestions once in a while. Behind him, Rog and Tinnuion were almost completely oblivious to the competition, instead discussing something that vaguely sounded like an upgrade of one of Tinnuion's latest creations, but might just as well be something completely new. He honestly had lost their train of thought two songs ago.
Ecthelion and Salgant had spend a whole song just about those two in their forge... and neither had given any indication they had noticed. Behind them was a continiously shifting mass of the other Lords, currently Glorfindel being at the front, complaining loudly about the 'Yellow Shrubbery-Sheep'-quatrain Ecthelion had put in his version of the song.
It was companiable, even Turgon in the distance laughing along with what song reached him up there.
In a break between songs, there was the soft sound of rock breaking. Egalmoth felt a lurge go through his horse's body. Looking down sharply, he noted to his great horror and worry that there was a new dip in the road. Rog also looked down, seeing the dip extend beyond his and Tinnuion's horses... and growing wider.
It was the first mistake of compassion.
Both of them acted at once; Egalmoth drove his horse into a side-step towards the wall, away from the ravine to their left. Rog slapped his hand down on the back of the grey mare Turgon's nephew was riding, sending her forward with several great bounds, past Egalmoth who had been blocking the road ahead before his own move.
Later, in calmer moments, people would realize that had the two not done that, but simply driven their own horses forward, all three could have made it. Now, their priority had simply been the safety of the younger Lord, which would prove a fatal mistake.
Below them, the part of the road they were on sheered off, the rock having been weakened by several sharp frosts in winter and now proving unable to hold several horses and their riders at once. Glorfindel behind them managed to get his horse back on time, bumping into Penlod and Galdor, but staying safe from the catastrophe in front of him.
Rog's deep-brown drafthorse and Egalmoth's palomino mare had no such luck. The drafthorse screamed as it fell into the deep, taking its' rider with it. The mare lost her footing, slamming her rider - and herself - into the mountainside to a sharp outcry of pain from the Lord of the Heavenly Arch before also falling in a cascade of rocks.
Ahead, Tinnuion had gotten his mare under control and was now looking back in horror as Turgon scrambled up from where he had been preparing the tea for their lunch.
Rog had succeeded in gaining a handhold several metres below once-road-level, arm straining to maintain the life-saving grip that kept him from falling after his horse into the river below.
Egalmoth, either knocked unconscious from the hit against the wall or simply dazed by the pain from a horse crushing one of his legs, was making no attempt to get one himself.
It was the second mistake of compassion.
The Lord of the Hammer of Wrath made a grab for his fellow Lord, managing to snag one of his wrists. For a few eternally-lasting moments, it seemed like they would only have to mourn two fine horses and some camping-supplies. Touted as the physically strongest of most - if not all - Noldor, the smith had enough strength to hold both of them for a good while, certainly enough for the others to figure out a way to get them back onto the road.
Then a jerk went through his body when he arrested Egalmoth's momentum and Rog's eyes snapped up. Under his other hand, the rock broke, unable to hold the weight of the both of them. He would get no chance to find another, free-falling that last bit into the river and disappearing in the raging waters. Neither of them surfaced again.
On the road, Tinnuion scrambled from his horse and screamed.
