Hi y'all! This is yet another random idea that sprung into my unpredictable imagination (Hooray for ADHD! Whoo-hoo!), and I hope everyone enjoys it!:)

{Before anyone asks, "Cúthalion", and "For the Love of Swans" have not been abandoned, life is just kinda crazy at the moment}

Elrond couldn't sleep. His thoughts were racing through his mind, faster than ever. He glanced over at Elros, who was sound asleep. Apparently, Maglor's story hadn't upset the younger child as much as it had upset his twin.

Maglor and his older brother, Maedhros, the eldest sons of Fëanor, had kidnapped the twins about three months ago. At first, Elrond had hated them. In time, Maglor proved to be a kindly kidnapper, although a kidnapper nonetheless. But he wasn't so sure about Maedhros.

The tall, scarred, red-headed elf was almost distant. When he talked to them, his tone was harsh. But Maglor always said that despite this fact, Maedhros meant well.

The thing that caught the attention of Elrond and Elros about their red-headed captor was the fact that he only had one hand. At first, the sons of Eärendil thought he had lost the other in some bygone accident or battle. But now, they knew the story was different. The pair had noticed the lord of Himring wince, and quietly excuse himself from the table, when someone mentioned Thangorodrim. They'd also noticed that Maglor followed, concern written across his features.

Elrond rolled out of bed. This was useless. He needed to talk to an adult. He tip-toed into the hallway, taking care not to wake Elros as he closed the door. For some reason the youngster couldn't explain, he walked right past Maglor's bedchamber and went straight to Maedhros'. He stopped in front of the large, intimidating oaken door, listening intently.

A rustle of movement, a quiet curse, and the sound of someone punching a pillow reached his ears. Yes, Maedhros was still awake. Elrond was about to knock on the door, but hesitated. Would Maedhros appreciate someone coming to talk to him at this hour? Probably not. He was starting to reconsider everything, when he stopped himself. "Don't be such a baby, Elrond." he mentally chided himself. "Act like Elros; stupid" And with that the elfling knocked on the door.

He heard Maedhros curse again, get out of bed, and walk to the door. He briefly wondered if he'd made a mistake in coming to Maedhros for something like this. As much as Elrond hated to admit it, he was afraid of him. The door opened, and Maedhros stepped out into the hallway.

It was rather strange to the child. Maedhros didn't look half as frightening as he normally did. His wild red hair cascaded loosely about halfway down his back, instead of being tied back the way it normally was. His black tunic was replaced by a slate-grey one, but he still wore a pair of brown leggings, though these ones seemed to have a slightly looser fit. Also, he noticed that the elder elf was barefoot.

"Elrond?" he questioned. He noticed that the Noldorian prince's voice had a lot less bark in it than usual, even though it was still rather gruff. "Elrond, what's wrong?" The elfling tilted his head up to see him, as he only came up to Maedhros' waist.

"I'm sorry." He whispered quietly. "Did I wake you up?"

"No. I've been awake for quite some time. " Maedhros answered tiredly. "Why'd you come to me?" he suddenly added, genuinely puzzled.

"I couldn't sleep." Elrond replied. Maedhros sighed, and didn't say anything, but the expression on his face seemed to scream out the words; "You and me both."

"Why couldn't you have gone to Maglor?" he groaned.

"He was asleep."

"Of course he was." Maedhros cursed.

"Anyways, I don't think Maglor could answer the question that's been keeping me awake." He replied carefully. Maedhros cocked his head to the side. Elrond couldn't help comparing him to a curious puppy.

"What question?" he asked. Elrond didn't know how to answer him.

"Can we talk privately?" He whispered. Maedhros slowly nodded, as if he wasn't sure. He then walked back into his room, and the elfling followed. They sat down together on the elder elf's bed, and there was a few minutes of awkward silence between them before Maedhros broke it.

"So… what did you want to ask me?" he asked quietly. Elrond hesitated. The question he wanted to ask required all the courage he had.

"Were you a prisoner at Tangorodrim?" He asked softly, his voice hardly above a whisper. Maedhros didn't answer, but the look on his face told the elfling everything. It suddenly occurred to Elrond that he'd never seen Maedhros look frightened. Almost all the color had drained from his face, his eyes had at least doubled their original size, and they reminded him of the eyes of a child in a thunderstorm.

"W-why do you ask?" he stammered, trying to remain as calm as possible. The tiny child bit his lip, unsure of how to answer the red headed giant.

"Elros and I noticed that you kind of flinched when Thangorodrim was mentioned, so we asked Maglor about it…?" He replied quietly, as he tried his very best to look as innocent as humanly possible. As soon as he'd said this however, fierce sparks of anger began to show in Maedhros' bright green eyes. Although, when Elrond looked a little bit deeper into the sorrowful emerald depths, all he could see was pain. The pain of every single injury that had been inflicted upon Nelyafinwë during his lifetime. Both physically and emotionally. He began to rise slowly and menacingly to his feet. Without even thinking, Elrond tried to shove him back down again, his small hands against Maedhros' broad shoulders, as if he were trying to push the terrible anger back down to wherever it came from.

"Maedhros, please don't get mad at Maglor! If you want to be angry with someone, be angry at Elros and I, because when Maglor didn't tell us at first, we pestered him until he told us. And to be fair, I don't think he told us everything." the elfling tensed, expecting the older elf to lash out, but to his amazement, Maedhros seemed to calm down instead.

"I'm sorry Elrond, I forgot how curious elflings are." He said quietly. " I should've realized that sooner or later, one of you would ask about this." They were both quiet after that. "Wait a second. Just how long did the two of you badger my younger brother?" Maedhros asked. The child thought about it.

"A long time. About two hours I think.."

"Well." Maedhros with the tiniest hint of a smile. "You're persistent, I'll give you that." Although he tried not to show it, Elrond was inwardly celebrating. This was the first time Maedhros had actually said something positive about the twins. Also, this was the first time he'd ever seen something close to a smile on the battle-hardened warrior's stone-like features.

"Talking to someone about my problems has always helped me. Maybe it could help you, Maedhros." The child suggested. The smile on Maedhros' face seemed to vanish in the blink of an eye.

"No Elrond. I couldn't do that to Maglor, he has enough problems of his own. I can't burden him with mine." Maedhros sighed

"You could talk to me." Elrond said quietly, again, without thinking first. Maedhros' whole demeanor suddenly changed, and he became extremely serious.

"Elrond, my story is not for children as young as you." He said sternly. "I'm not going to scare another child with it. I won't let it scar you the way it scarred Amrod and Amras."

"I'm not that young!" He protested.

"You're only six!" Maedhros shot back.

"Am not!" He corrected him. "I'm seven!"

A small, crooked smile made its way onto the red-head's scarred face for a split second before disappearing again. "Alright, alright, you're seven, not six. But I still think you're too young."

"Then why don't we find out?" He arched a brow at Elrond's words. It was obvious that he knew he was being challenged.

"Elrond, I don't think it's a good idea..." he began, but he was quickly cut off.

"Who cares if it's a good idea? You should probably talk to someone about this 'cause it's obviously keeping you awake at night. Literally." Maedhros sighed in exasperation and then fell silent for a few minutes.

"Did I win that argument?" Elrond wondered

"What did Maglor tell you?" He asked softly. The elfling briefly wondered whether or not Maedhros was only telling him his story, simply to get him to leave and go to bed.

"He told us that Morgoth had sent word that he would give up a silmaril if the elves gave up the war, that you went with a few troops of elves to go and retrieve the gem, that Morgoth's minions attacked, that they killed everyone except you, that they brought you back to Angband, that you were there for a few years, and that you were chained on the side of Tangorodrim for a few days."

Maedhros was silent.

"Maedhros?"

Silence.

Elrond quietly started to walk to the door. Maedhros' silence still baffled him. He tried to communicate with his captor once again.

"Good night?"

No answer.

He quietly walked out of the room, and headed back to his own bedroom. "You killed him." The voice in his head hissed accusingly. "You emotionally killed the eldest son of Fëanor. The rightful High King of the Noldor." He began to run. "You killed him! You killed him!" The voice started singing in a taunting tone. "Murderer! Murderer!" he ran faster, and didn't stop until he'd barged through the door, raced across the room, and flung himself into his bed, sobbing into the pillow…

Elrond didn't know how long he'd been crying.

He knew it had been a long time, as his pillow was absolutely saturated. Suddenly, he became aware of the sound of solitary footsteps echoing through the hallway, before they came to a standstill… right in front of the door. He quickly feigned sleep, as he heard the door creak open, and someone entering the bedchamber.

Maglor was the one person who ever came into the twins' room. The young peredhel knew that he wouldn't want Maglor to see his tears, or have to explain his emotional distress. Chances were, Maglor would not be pleased over the fact that his kindly-treated captive had upset his brother either.

The elfling tried not to stiffen as a hand gently brushed a few strands of his dark mass of hair out of his face. He then felt his blanket being adjusted, and pulled up a little higher, so that it covered his scrawny shoulders. He then heard the door closed as the figure left, just as quickly and quietly as he had come.

Elrond's eyes snapped open. A tiny, confused frown made its way cross his childlike face. For some reason, although Maglor was the only person who came in the room, whoever came in there… didn't feel like Maglor.

The hand, although kind, was rough with blisters and calluses. Not soft like Maglor's. Also, Maglor wouldn't have left that quickly…

The elfling raced to the door, and cracked it open just in time to catch sight of a few locks of red-hued hair disappearing around the corner.

Silently, the child followed.

Hope that everyone liked it! :)

Hopefully, I will be able to post more of "Cúthalion" and "For the Love of Swans" soon!