That was when Arafinwe and the others turned up, and explanations had to be given again… but Feanaro lost patience.
"I am leaving," he said, stalking to the horse Maitimo had been riding. The horse sniffed Feanaro's hand, and laid his ears back. Feanaro glared at him. "You are going to bear me back to your master," he told the horse firmly. It sighed, and whuffed something that made Tyelkormo choke. Feanaro mounted, and rode away. With him went Tyelkormo, Curufinwe, Nolofinwe, Lalwende, and Irisse, along with a group of guards.
Arafinwe went pale at the news of his father's death. "I feared this ever since Findekano received that message." He wiped almost angrily at his eyes. "But you say that there were few other deaths?"
Arafinwe surprised them by deciding not to ride after the others, though he did send the healers on. "There is nothing I can do for my father now, and I think you two could use my support. There are a lot of frightened people back in Tirion, and they aren't going to be easy to handle." It suddenly struck Findekano, that really, it might have made more sense to have Arafinwe be Regent, and also that his feelings might be hurt by the appointment of his two nephews.
"If you are willing to stay, I would be grateful for your help," Findekano told him.
"What's wrong with Maitimo?" Findarato asked.
"A concussion, and exhaustion," said Findekano. "Turukano, I could really use some help getting him onto a horse."
With a good deal of effort, the three of them got Maitimo safely onto Findekano's horse. Findekano leapt lightly up behind him. Slowly, the group rode back to Tirion.
Maedhros tried to think past his splitting headache. He needed to think - things were already spiralling off in unexpected directions. None of this had happened last time! But it looked as if the breach in the family might be getting narrower instead of wider. All because of a single message that didn't even make it in time. Of course, that assumed that without Findekano and himself to play peacemakers, their fathers didn't kill each other…
The streets were dark, save for pools of light from torches or the odd Feanorian lantern. People yelled questions at them about what was happening. Findekano promised them they would tell them as soon as they got back to the palace. "Maitimo," said Findekano quietly, "You were there. You're going to have to tell them what happened. You haven't even told me exactly what happened."
Maedhros closed his eyes. "Understood," he said. "I can do it, if I can lean on you." One way or another, he always seemed to find himself leaning on Findekano. He hadn't been as good a friend as Findekano deserved last time. But maybe this time he could begin to repay his friend for all he'd done for him. There would be no Oath of Feanor between them now. Maedhros would make sure of that, if he failed at all else.
Once they reached the palace, Maedhros took the chance to wash the dried blood off his face and sit down for a few minutes while criers told people to assemble in the Great Square to hear the news from Formenos.
A healer came up, holding a flask. "I understand you have a head injury. What happened?"
"Fell and hit my head during a vision cascade two days ago," Maedhros said. "I'm not so bad, but the fight in the Unlight and the long ride was a bit much."
"I'll be the judge of that," said the healer. He asked a few more questions, and probed the bump on Maedhros' skull. "You have a hard head, fortunately. I want you to drink this, and rest once the speech is over." he said. "You need to ask for a healer before the symptoms get this bad next time. Leave any fighting, riding, or anything else that could cause you to hit your head to others for at least the next two weeks – if you reinjure your head you can end up with nasty complications."
"I will do my best to stay out of trouble," said Maedhros. The healer glowered at him, sighed, and handed Maedhros the flask. Maedhros drank, finding it was Limpe. This helped clear his mind – which was good, given he had to go out and speak to the people. Findekano stood beside him, keeping an eye on his cousin as well as needing to hear the information himself.
They stood on the palace balcony that opened onto the square. Maedhros looked out onto a small and scattered sea of faces, lit by torchlight and the light from the Mindon. Unwillingly, he remembered a much larger crowd, and his father's eyes gleaming with rage and grief past bearing. But that was not now, not yet.
"People of Tirion," Maedhros cried, "I bear terrible news. Our King, Finwe, is dead, slain by Melkor." Shouts of shock and horror greeted this, and the crowd grew quiet. "Melkor was aided by a spider-shaped horror from the Void. They it was who destroyed the Two Trees, slew our King, and stole many of Feanaro's greatest creations, including the Silmarils, in which the light of the Two Trees alone now lives."
"Where were the Valar?" cried a voice in the crowd. "Shame!" several voices took up the cry. Maedhros suddenly realized that this speech was sounding familiar – like a pale echo of his father's. He'd better do something about that...
"Orome and Tulkas are chasing him to the far north. But they too are hampered by the Unlight that blinded us when that Moringotto attacked us. I know that you felt the edges of it in Tirion, in Valmar, and on Taniquetil. Believe me, it is far, far worse when they are right there, in front of you…" his voice trailed off. There was no way to make anyone understand who had not been there, who had not faced the dark head-on and failed.
"People panicked. No one could see a thing, or think clearly to run a defense. Even stooping to pick up a rock was near to impossible, and many broke and fled. Those who did not flee, fainted at their posts. Except for Finwe. He stood alone in the Courtyard against Moringotto. I remember nothing after Moringotto broke the gates, but it is clear that-" Maedhros took a deep breath.
"Finwe tried to stop him, and Moringotto killed him for it. Then he stole the silmarils and many other fair things of Feanaro's making, and left, leaving Finwe lying dead in the middle of the courtyard."
An ugly growl came from the crowd. "And where were you and your brothers while all this was happening?" demanded a voice.
"I was over the gate, setting off a rockfall trap, and dropping rocks I couldn't see on horrors I couldn't see either. It enraged them, and we believe it lightly injured the spider, but it did not stop either her or Melkor. When the gates were stoven in, I lost consciousness. When I woke again, Melkor and his friend were long gone. My brothers' stories are similar. We were pitted against a foe too great for our minds, or even the minds of Orome and Tulkas, to withstand. They and Orome's host became confused and scattered when they hit the Unlight. That is why they were too late to help us."
"When Orome and his host finally arrived, they left three maia with us as defense and healers and went after Melkor themselves. Tylekormo, Curufinwe and I borrowed their horses and made for Tirion, where we met Nolofinwe and Findekano setting out to our aid. I believe Findekano and Arafinwe have already told you the rest."
More words then followed from both Findekano and himself, setting out how their brief regency was to work. Then it was over, and Maedhros followed his cousin back inside.
The next two weeks were busy ones, organizing a city and a people used to endless light and slight shadows to survive in the dark. Maedhros made himself useful however he could. Having lived in the dark before, it didn't bother him, and there was a lot he could do to help the others. His concussion ebbed gradually to a mild headache that cropped up when he dealt with fools for too long.
At least it gave him an excuse for sharp remarks. Beleriand hadn't left him with much tolerance for fatuous idiots. People like that ended up getting others killed to salve their own egos.
These people were so unbelievably sheltered! Not only did most of them barely know which end of a sword to hold, in theory only as they'd never actually done so in their lives, they didn't know how to make a torch, tell north from star positions, make a bleeding candle, or stand a watch properly. They were going to have to learn better, and fast.
Not for the first time, Maedhros wondered if the elves had been wrong to follow the Valar to Valinor. It was beautiful, yes, but it was a paradise and gilded cage that could never have lasted forever. And losing it broke some people.
They had to send healers around because some of the more timid people began wasting away in fear, or their fea became lost in the dark. A few even died, though not many. Arafinwe proved to have a real talent for pulling people out of these fugue states, for which Maedhros found himself grateful. He wondered what might have happened if they'd had Arafinwe with them last time they were in Endore. He should probably be grateful Arafinwe hadn't been. He'd probably have ended up dying horribly, like so many others.