Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: Egalmoth/Rog, Maeglin/Salgant
Warnings: AU, canon-levels of Everything
Chapter: 29
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate and/or mynameisjessejk, Plot & OC´s © by me
Authors note: CONTENT WARNING: Someone has a REAL bad time, so read with caution!
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The month of being 'kidnapped' had passed quickly and soon both he and Salgant had been delivered back to New Gondolin. Neither the Amrhosco nor his fathers would tell him if there really had been a ransom, and if so, what it was. Grumbling a bit about obnoxious people, he considered the pendant he had made in Formenos. It was not yet finished, Curufin's lack of jewel-making coming back to bite Maeglin in the ass when several materials he needed for his light crystals were not available.
He had waved off the offer of someone procuring them, pointing out that it was not really time-sensitive, so he could wait with doing those steps until he was back to where said materials where in easy supply again.
Tucking both his creations in a pocket, he slipped easily from his uncle's palace, making his way through the city to the artisan district. It was late at night, and most people would have retired already. But Rog allowed one or two workspaces to remain lit even in the night, for urgent emergency work or simply for a smith that wanted to keep their project secret... or as Maeglin suspected so they - for example Rog himself - could forget to eat and suddenly find themselves finishing during morning. Once or twice a year he'd arrive in the forges for some early work, only to find the master smith himself still working on something or other.
He hoped that wasn't the case now; he wanted his work to be a surprise! He could probably just work only on Egalmoth's new pendant and leave Rog's gift for another night when the Lord of the Hammer of Wrath was not in the forges, but it'd be so much easier if he could just work on both in the same night! Salgant had had opinions about him pulling all-nighters, and the more he had, the more likely it was that his fiancé would notice.
His eye twitched when he noticed himself humming the tune of 'Lay of the Mole's Hole'. Oh for... Shutting himself up firmly, he pushed the small sidedoor that led into the smithy. No hammering, that was good. It meant he could probably work in peace.
No... wait... there was something. Frowning a bit, he realized that he was not alone after all. Ah well, he could be lucky and it would not be Rog, at least.
His nostrils flared when something else registered. He smelled iron... and something told him it was not the normal forge-iron-smell. Lengthening his strides, he crossed the building quickly. If someone had gotten hurt...
The door to the forges was open and he slipped in. No use in startling whoever was in there and risk having them hurt themselves more in their surprise.
He froze, his brain needing a few moments to take in the scene.
There was a body on the ground, the source of the iron-smell that had alerted him earlier. The elf was in a pool of his own blood, a dagger of some kind buried in his back almost up to the hilt. He could see some more cuts, defensive wounds of one who had to use his arms to avert a blade. Why... why did that elf seem familiar?
A sound, similar to the one that had informed him he would not be alone this night, tore his eyes up. There were two more forms, and he nearly cried out at the sight. They were at the night-burning-forge, struggling against one another. One was winning, holding the other down in the glowing coals. A new smell joined the blood one, of roasted meat. The one of the bottom was still fighting, but life was fading fast, burning away in the fires of New Gondolin's smithy.
And at the dying gasp of the elf in the flames, he recognized all three. He screamed, stumbling forward to Egalmoth. The Lord of the Heavenly Arch no longer reacted to his presence, brown eyes unseeing and body already cooling, even here in the forges. His hands came away sticky with blood, the dagger screaming the comfirmation of what had happened here. He knew that work, almost as well as his own... because it bore his mark, a relative's style never truly becoming indistinguishable from another.
"Son." Eöl left the body in the coals, almost gliding over. Behind him, the Lord of the Hammer of Wrath no longer moved, flames licking at his form.
Maeglin trembled, eyes wide at this spectre of a cursed life coming to haunt him. Tears dried in the heat before they could spill.
"Have you learned now?" Between the only source of light being behind him, and their natural dark colour, his eyes were impenetrable shadows. "You are mine, Maeglin, only ever mine. I am the only choice you can ever make."
Once, he would freeze when facing the older elf, now he scrambled back, hitting one of the anvils. His Sire followed like it was no matter, stepping over Egalmoth like he was just nothing.
"Did you think you could just replace me? That I would let you?" The hand around his neck was a vice, lifting him and slamming him onto the anvil. Yet the pain of his body was nothing compared to the pain of his heart, his fathers dead before him. "Were you thinking you could escape me? Escape the blood we share just by claiming some new fathers?"
He fought, struggled and tried to scream... but if Rog - the strongest Gondolindrim he'd ever known - had failed, Maeglin stood no chance to free himself. His Sire's body was hot and hard on his, the anvil digging into his back. This close he could see the scratches on the pale skin, the only remaining testimony of Rog's struggle in a similar position.
"Were you hoping I would not kill them just because they are not directly related to you?" It was a purr, dark and evil in a way he remembered Sauron to have sounded when he had been in Angband. "That I would hesitate as I had not for Aredhel?" The hand tightened, cutting off his air. "You are mine... and you will have no one else but me!"
He felt his life slipping away, much like he had when landing at the foot of the walls of Gondolin-in-Beleriand. He wept, Mandos' summons tearing at his soul and dragging him away piece by piece.
"They will blame you... and it will be deserved... My little murderer." Despite that, the voice of his Sire echoed, slamming loud and clear into his skull. "You kill everyone around you, don't you, my son...?" He could no longer move, no longer see. All that remained was the hot voice of Eöl in his ears, bringing to mind memories of Old Gondolin's Fall.
He wailed, in grief and pain... and it echoed off the walls of Formenos.
