I'm back! And as promised, with another chapter!

Brief Summary- One of Aredhel's brothers accidentally lets slip something he meant to keep secret, Maglor finds two of the 'others,' and the Feast Commences! Only, neither of them can bring themselves to celebrate after one, dreadful, announcement.


~Earlier in Chpt. 4~

"Glorfindel!"

"Erestor?" Glorfindel jerked his head down towards Erestor, wondering what was wrong with his friend.

"Impossible!" Glorfindel heard Thranduil say and followed both their gazes to see what had caught their eyes. Once his gaze landed on the person standing in the doorway, Glorfindel felt his body freeze in disbelief.

The Ellon in the doorway tilted his head at the Elves in front of him, wondering what was wrong with them. They looked as if they'd seen a ghost!

"What manner of sorcery?!" Glorfindel gaped, not believing his own eyes.

"My friends," The newcomer slowly began, a little concerned. "Is everything well?"

"I do not know," Thranduil answered, narrowing his eyes dangerously. His demeanor instantly changed from his normal, aloofness into a shrewd, calculating one. "Why do you not tell me?"


The newcomer remained standing in the center of the room, eyeing everyone in bewilderment. Why were they staring at him as if he were some sort of spectral hallucination? Thranduil and Glorfindel looked about ready to attack him while Erestor protectively stood before Elrond's prone body. His eyes widened in horror. What was wrong with Elrond?

He made to move forward when Thranduil threateningly stepped towards him, his hand slowly moving towards the knife he always had hidden within his elegant, silver, robe. He paused mid-stride, questioningly raising his hands in the air. "What is wrong with the lot of you? You treat me as if I were some villain- which I can assure you that I am most certainly not. I came to check on you after you missed the Council meeting."

"Council meeting?" Erestor dubiously repeated, dangerously watching the Elf with sharp, violet orbs. "There was no Council meeting scheduled for today. I would have been aware if there was seeing as I am in charge of arranging those meetings."

Now the Elf was even more lost.

"There was most certainly a Council meeting. Surely you haven't forgotten about the upcoming battle?" He phrased it more as a question since he had a feeling that something strange was at work.

The three Elf Lords glanced at one another. "Battle? What battle?"

"What battle?!" The Elf repeated, flabbergasted.

"Has Imladris been attacked?" Thranduil murmured but Glorfindel shook his head.

"Nay. There has not been one attack nor have we had any trouble while out on Patrol. I would have heard if it were otherwise, seeing as I am Captain of the Guard."

What were they rambling on about?

"My friends!" The Elf exclaimed, a little shocked now. "Have you lost your minds?! I should call for the King! You seem to have taken ill. That or the lot of you have drunk too much wine!"

Thranduil snapped his icy gaze onto the Elf.

"The King?" Glorfindel scoffed, giving the Elf a raised eyebrow, jerking a thumb in Thranduil's direction. "Are you blind? The King is right there."

"If I remember correctly, my Father was slain in battle long ago and I was made the new King of Greenwood." Thranduil stated. "Unless you speak of Elrond, who prefers to be known as the Lord of Imladris, not a King."

"By the Valar...This would be the time Elrond chooses to fall ill or something! Speaking of Elrond, what is wrong with my Herald?!"

"Better question, what is wrong with you?" Glorfindel shot back, straightening to his full height. Suddenly, the Golden Being was more intimidating and the room seemed to have dimmed slightly as the Balrog Slayer regarded the newcomer. Power and authority radiated from his being as he placed himself before Erestor and Thranduil in order to study the new Elf that had entered the study.

"I cannot believe this...I-I must call for the others and healers. Yes. Healers." And with that, the Elf was gone, having turned suddenly and vanishing through the doorway.

"Wait, what?" Erestor blinked, casting a confused look to Glorfindel. "I must admit...I am lost."

"As am I." Thranduil uttered.

"And I." Glorfindel agreed, glancing down at Elrond's still form. "I sense that...Whatever it was that was supposed to be changed has already started to influence our time. That Ellon..."

Erestor looked alarmed. "That isn't good, Glor! If these changes continue to happen, we could be living in multiple different futures with every single thing they change!"

"That is true." Thranduil gravely nodded. "We will have to learn to quickly adapt to these changes and pretend that we understand everything that is happening. We must keep our eyes open and our ears sharp. It is prudent that we learn everything as soon as they happen."

"Easier said than done, but it can be done." Glorfindel curtly dipped his chin in agreement with Thranduil. "I will listen for more detail on the upcoming battle and the changes along the borders of Imladris and within."

"I will listen for what is happening beyond the borders of Imladris and Greenwood." Thranduil said.

"Erestor can keep an eye on Elrond and see what is happening within the household. Without Elrond, he will have to lead in his stead."

Erestor remained silent during their exchange, listening as Glorfindel and Thranduil immediately started to plan out everything. Worriedly, he watched Elrond, wishing the Peredhel would wake and assure them that everything was fine. That, or that he would wake in his own room or study and find that this was some bizarre dream he was having.

"Am I truly the only one who is worried over this?"


~Meanwhile, with Maglor~

"Move...where? I dunno...Somewhere...Anywhere...Away from here..."

Maglor felt his heart forget to beat when the voice became stronger the closer the Elfling came to him. He knew that voice!

"Can't..." The Elfling grunted as he fell to the ground once again. "Can't move...Must rest...Head...spinning."

Maglor couldn't take it anymore. He emerged from the shadows where he'd hidden to see if it was who he knew it to be.

His eyes fell onto the tiny Elfling once he stepped out into the light, taking in the long, chocolaty brown hair that fell about his youthful face, the familiar maroon tunic, the deep grey eyes swimming with distortion, and the human-like features he had. The Elfling was lying on his stomach, one arm stretched above his head and the other clutching his tunic as if he were in pain.

The Elfling couldn't be older than six or seven summers old and was small in stature. He had a clasp holding together two braids that fell as one at the back of his head Maglor knew he recognized, and the minstrel was certain that it had to be him. Who else could it be?

"Elrond?"

The Elfling started at his name, weakly opening his eyes to see who had called out to him. Deep grey orbs opened and instantly fell upon Maglor's form swiftly approaching him.

"Atto?" He coughed out, confused and evidently distorted.

Maglor was at his side in the blink of an eye, kneeling down beside the small form and carefully turning him onto his back. Elrond hissed at the movement, shutting his eyes tightly as his nausea grew. Maglor quickly scanned over him for any wounds. He could find none. At least, none that were visible to the eye. "What ails you, little one?" He asked, delicately raising the tiny body up into his arms, cradling him gently.

"Don't know..." Elrond answered. "Not little." He added with a weak glare.

Maglor smothered the smirk that threatened to rise.

"Maglor!"

Hearing Aredhel's call, Maglor turned in time to see the Elleth appear out of the shadows of the forest and into the tiny clearing. Her eyes swiveled over to the Elfling Maglor held, noting how utterly exhausted he appeared, and widened in concern.

"Is he alright? Is he hurt?" She demanded to know, stalking forward to check on the Elfling. Elrond, hearing the unfamiliar voice, cracked open his grey orbs and studied the stranger. She had long, black hair, kind but determined blue eyes, and wore a faded grey tunic with a skirt that fell just above her knees. She also had a red, long-sleeved, undershirt and leggings matched with brown boots. Elrond would've raised an eyebrow at her appearance but he'd already met several Elleths in Himring who had dressed similarly. It was actually quite common, and it intrigued him greatly.

"He is fine, Aredhel." Maglor assured his younger cousin.

This time, Elrond did raise an eyebrow, weakly demanding for Maglor to explain himself. "Atto? What...What's happening?"

"I would've though you'd know, Elrond, seeing as you were the one who'd had the vision of me saving the world and everything." Maglor teased then shrugged. "But, I don't really know any more than that. I know we're meant to keep the Silmarils from coming to pass and keeping our history, our past, from happening again and that we were to receive help-" Maglor cut off when a thought suddenly struck him. Realization dawned over the minstrel and he glanced down at Elrond with a growing smile. "You're the one! The one from a far away land!"

Aredhel snapped her fingers. "It has to be him! He came all the way here from Middle-Earth! And I can see why they would've chosen him to help! Only...why is he an Elfling?"

"Milady?" Elrond uttered in confusion. He was lost. What were they going on about? What vision? What was this about him being from a faraway land? And of course he was an Elfling! What else could he be?

Oh well. He wasn't complaining. He was tired.

Exhausted.

And, he was relieved to have his Atto back. He hadn't meant to wander too far away from the fields, but he had. Then he fell into the ravine, and, well, he certainly learned his lesson about wandering off.

"Just Aredhel's fine, Elrond!" Aredhel corrected, smiling down at him. "It is wonderful to finally meet you!" She added.

Elrond stared at the excited Elleth. Who was she? He knew he knew her from somewhere...But where? Was she the same Aredhel that was taken by Ëol? But...hadn't she died? That's what Erestor had taught him, and Erestor was never wrong.

"Atto...Are we in Himring?"

Maglor blinked at the odd question. "No...We are far away from Himring, Elrond. We're near Tirion."

"But..." Elrond's brow furrowed in confusion. "Tirion's in Valinor." He knew that because Erestor had ordered for him to memorize the geography of both Middle-Earth and Valinor.

"Yes." Concerned, Maglor rested the back of his hand against Elrond's forehead. No fever... "Elrond, what is the last thing you remember?"

Elrond's brows beetled together as he struggled to remember what he did remember. "El and I were playing... Maedhros was watching us. You said you needed to go visit someone..."

Maglor felt his heart slowly sinking as Elrond continued his tale and he bit his lip.

"Maedhros said not to wander too far... I did." Elrond shyly raised his head to see if Maglor was upset with him at this, but seeing that Maglor didn't appear to be, he dutifully continued. "I faught I heard somefin' so I went to see and I fell into the river."

"Eru..." Maglor murmured and Aredhel turned to look up at him.

"What is it, Maglor? What's wrong?"

Maglor looked down at Aredhel, worried and a little uncertain. "It appears that Elrond is trapped in his six year old self with no memories other than those from when he was an Elfling."

"What? Oh dear..." Aredhel worried her lower lip as she studied the little, shivering, Elfling Maglor held. "You poor thing." She quickly dug into her small bag and pulled out the towel that she had brought along on the trip. Placing it on Elrond, Aredhel gently tucked it comfortably around him, and Elrond gratefully snuggled into the fluffy cocoon she'd made. Resting his head on his Atto's shoulder, Elrond quietly thanked the Elleth. "Anytime, little one."

Elrond didn't seem to hear her, his eyes drifting shut as he gave into his body's need for rest. Once he was asleep, Maglor shook his head in worry. "I don't understand. Why did they send Elrond from when he was six? He is young, too young. What if something goes wrong and he is involved in it? What if the Silmarils are created? What will happen to him? If Morgoth attacks-"

"Maglor! Calm down!" Aredhel tugged on Maglor's arm to get his attention. "Elrond may be an Elfling, but he's intelligent and quick to learn. He'll be fine, especially if you're around. Don't forget that you have me and there are still three others we need to find. Elrond will be safe. We wouldn't let anything happen to him."

"Still...I don't understand why they sent him."

Aredhel couldn't answer that. "Who knows, but the Valar must've had a reason, so we shouldn't question it. There's only one problem I'm worried about."

"What is that?" Maglor asked, taking his eyes off of Elrond's sleeping form. The Elfling looked so exhausted...so tired.

"How do we hide him?"

"What?"

"Well, we can't have him running around calling you 'Atto' and you calling him 'Ionya' for all to hear. Imagine what would happen if someone were to hear that." Aredhel pointed out.

Maglor slowly nodded. "You're right. That would be troublesome. So...We need to figure something out..."

"Yes. We do."


~Duplicity~

"Moro! Come!" Ambarto and Pityo chimed, giggling madly as they splashed around in the shallow end of the pool. Moryo's upper lip twitched, the beginnings of a scowl forming as he shook his head.

"You go and play, Ambarto, Pityo. I will remain here." He told his younger brothers, crossing his arms as he leaned against the nearest tree. Funnily enough, it was the same tree Makalaurë had pinned him against when they had first found him.

Ambarto and Pityo pouted, visibly upset that their elder brother wasn't going to join them. Then, their expressions became darker and more mischievous as the two shared the 'look.' Moryo knew that 'look.' He recognized the mischievous gleam in their eyes and knew he should probably move himself to a safer place. Preferably, in the highest tree he could find far, far, away.

"Moro, if you no come, we come!" The twins declared in unison, both waddling to shore. Moryo smirked at the two and slowly started to edge away while watching as the rest of his family played in the pool. Fëanaro was nearest the twins, watching proudly as they swam to shore. Turukano, having been challenged by his brother, was now racing against Findekano to see who was the faster swimmer. Nolofinwë watched them in amusement, glad to see his sons enjoying themselves and Curvo was with Tyelko, searching the pool for any interesting rocks or other hidden treasures the sands bore. Finwë was relaxing on the colorful sands lining the small pool. However, Moryo noticed that there was one missing. Actually, three who were missing.

Nelyo for one. Makalaurë and Irissë were also gone. Now, he was certain he'd caught a glimpse of those two following after the family, deep in conversation. A serious one, he figured, from what he'd seen. He wondered what it could've possibly been about.

"Moro! We coming!" The twins cry caused Moryo to look their way to find the small Elflings had finally climbed out of the pool and were running his way, smiling wickedly as they waved their arms in the air.

"Oh dear..." Moryo sighed, shaking his head at the twins. Why they continued to torment him, he didn't know. Ambarto and Pityo then skidded to a stop, their eyes widening when they looked over Moryo's shoulder.

"Uh-oh!" Ambarto exclaimed, and Pityo gasped.

"Moro in twouble!" They squealed.

Moryo was about to ask what they meant when he was suddenly lifted up into the air and thrown over a strong shoulder.

"And up he goes!" Nelyo's voice sounded, trembling with laughter when Moryo gave an indignant shout, drawing everyone's attention, and started to struggle to escape. "And down to the waters we go!"

Moryo's eyes widened. "No! Nelyo, put me down! I don't want to get wet!"

"Go, Nelyo!" The twins cheered, running around Nelyo in circles.

"Nelyo! For the love of the Valar, if you don't set me down this moment-!"

"What, Moryo? What are you going to do? Do tell! I am curious to know!" Nelyo laughed, effectively stilling his brother's wild movements at Moryo attempted to escape again.

Moryo kicked his brother's chest and clutched his shoulders, refusing to allow Nelyo to drop him into the pool. "I will make you regret throwing me into the pool if you do!" he had a good grip on his brother, so Nelyo would be unable to drop him anyway. So far, he was safe.

Nelyo waded deeper into the pool, the waters now rising to his knees. Ambarto and Pityo swam around him, their tiny heads raised to watch them as they laughed and giggled.

"Atto!" Moryo called to his Father, who was watching them from a few feet away. "Tell Nelyo to put me down!"

Fëanaro's eyes twinkled as he raised both his eyebrows.

"D'you hear that, Nelyo?" He slowly asked his eldest son. Nelyo quickly caught on to what his Father meant and a mischievous smile appeared on his lips.

"Why, yes, Atto, I did."

"Then, why don't you do as Moryo asked and put him down?"

Moryo, who was confused at first, slowly understood what the two had planned and immediately tried to wriggle out of Nelyo's grasp. "No! No, Nelyo don't!"

Too late.

"Sorry, Toron." Nelyo happily said and dunked the elf into the pool.

Well, he tried to anyway, but Moryo had managed to take hold of Nelyo in a way that made it difficult for the red-head to remove him.

"Honestly, Toron? Do you think that will save you?"

"You can't dunk me now, can you?" Moryo shot back, feeling victorious. He raised his feet up a little higher, trying not to touch the water, scowling when Curvo snickered at him.

"Water's not poisonous, Moryo. I don't know what you're afraid of."

"I'm not afraid!" Moryo snapped, tightening his grip on Nelyo. "Can't dunk me now, Nelyo!"

"Think again!" Nelyo laughed and fell forwards, taking Moryo down with him.

Ambarto and Pityo cheered, clapping their small hands together as they laughed. Fëanaro smiled down at them, scooping up the little twins and listening to their squeals of delight as he threw them high into the air, throwing them further into the pool.

Nelyo was the first to reemerge, shaking his head wildly.

"I must say, Nelyo," Tyelko spoke up from where he was floating on his back. "That was rather cruel of you. Moryo will most certainly make you pay for it."

"Ah, well, it was worth it." Nelyo responded, a hint of laughter dancing in his eyes as he looked for Moryo. He frowned when he discovered that his brother was nowhere to be seen. "Speaking of Moryo..."

Curvo, hearing him, also started to search for their brother who had yet to appear.

"Moryo?"

Fëanaro turned round when Nelyo and Curvo began to search for their brother, growing concerned when Moryo never emerged from below the waters. Wading closer, Fëanaro scanned the pool for any sign of his son.

"Moryo?"

"Moryo!" Nelyo called, a little more loudly and urgently as he spun around in search of him.

Nolofinwë and Finwë slowly stood from where they were seated, raking their eyes across the pool to see if they could find the missing Ellon.

"Where is he?" Curvo wondered aloud, dragging his feet across the sandy floor of the pool. "It's like...he vanished in thin air!"

"Mor- AI!" Nelyo suddenly cried out as he was tackled from behind and sent flailing into the pool.

"Ha! That is what you get, petulant brother-mine!" Moryo declared, materializing behind Fëanaro and Curvo. The two whirled around to look at him in relief and Nelyo scowled.

"Moryo! That was not at all amusing!"

"Then you know how I must feel." Moryo sniffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Nelyo sighed and rolled his eyes, standing up and shaking his head once again to get rid of some of the water clinging to his hair.

"Honestly, Toron."

Moryo shrugged, then asked his family,

"Hey, have any of you seen Makalaurë?"

"Makalaurë?" Fëanaro repeated, glancing around to find that Makalaurë wasn't among them.

"How odd," Nelyo commented, wondering how he'd missed the fact that Makalaurë hadn't come to the pool with them. "I was certain he was with us..."

"Speaking of Makalaurë, where is Irissë?" Findekano added, discovering that his little sister was also gone. Nolofinwë started, turning to look at the woods behind them.

"She was with Makalaurë." Finwë told them, raising a hand in the direction of the path in the woods. "But...Apparently, they have yet to arrive."'

"We've been here for ages now, though." Tyelko remarked.

"I will go look for them." Turukano offered, and before anyone could object, gracefully waded to the shore of the pool and crossed the sands to reach the path. He was gone before Nolofinwë could call him back.

Finwë narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Something was amiss. Something just struck the Lord as odd.

He could feel it in the air.

It made him wonder about his family. Mostly, he was concerned about Makalaurë. He could tell his grandson was suffering greatly. Makalaurë hid it wonderfully, but if there was one thing everyone had noticed, it was the fact that the minstrel had changed. He wasn't the same Makalaurë they once knew, and Finwë feared to learn the reason behind Makalaurë's transformation. Another was Irissë.

Finwë had sensed that something wasn't right with his Granddaughter. Irissë was once a bundle of energy, always zipping here and there, doing this and that, and causing Nolofinwë to go mad with worry. Her eyes, just like Makalaurë's, were always expressive. Both once shared the same, carefree twinkle and kindness that swirled in those pools of blue, but now, their eyes had dimmed and become more guarded. The blue had deepened in color, speaking of pain and grief. Makalaurë's especially. Irissë no longer smiled as much as before and she was more...collected and calm that it unnerved Finwë. Nolofinwë had also noticed and had approached his Father about it. It had happened after Irissë's incident nearly two years passed.

There were a couple of his other grandchildren that Finwë sensed had also undergone some sort of change, but Makalaurë and Irissë were more prominent to him. The one thing he had recognized in all four of his grandchildren was the fear they kept hidden behind their facades.

A fear of something unknown to Finwë. Something big.

And he couldn't help but feel fearful himself.


~Duplicity~

Turukano walked down the path leading to Fëanaro's home. His mind was whirling with many thoughts as he considered his cousin and little sister. After yesterday, he was beginning to think that Irissë and Makalaurë were hiding a tremendous secret from their family. His little sister had give that away to Turukano after she'd struck her head. She always had that look in her eyes. The one that said that she knew more than she was willing to tell. Anytime something happened, Irissë was indifferent- as if she'd been expecting for it to happen.

It made him wonder...

Turukano hummed thoughtfully to himself as a thought came into mind. A thought he needed to discover was true or false.

Voices alerted Turukano to the fact that he was drawing near to Makalaurë and Irissë's location. Taking a sharp turn in the direction he knew they were in, Turukano stepped off of the path and entered the darkness of the forest. Walking with ease over the maze of roots and low branches, Turukano stepped out into a clearing to find the two he'd been searching for.

"Makalaurë, Irissë."

Startled, Irissë and Makalaurë spun around to face him.

"Oh, Turukano!" Irissë greeted him, surprised. She wrung her fingers together, a sign that told Turukano that something was definitely up. His sister still had yet to realize that she always gave away whenever she was hiding or feeling nervous about something. It was a habit she had yet to break.

"What are you two doing?" Turukano questioned, but stopped whenever he spotted the Elfling Maglor held close to him. He looked to his cousin and sister, silently asking for them to explain everything.

"We found him here, Turukano." Irissë started to explain, her eyes flickering to Makalaurë then back to him. "He...We don't know what's wrong with him, but we need to get him back to Fëanaro's home so that a Healer can take a look at him."

Turukano slowly nodded, suspiciously regarding the two. That was not the whole truth, he knew. They were hiding something, and Turukano knew exactly what. They knew the Elfling. It was obvious from the manner in which Makalaurë protectively and fondly held the Elfling, providing him with comfort as he slept. "Then, to Fëanaro's home we must go. Perhaps Nerdanel will be able to help-" He was unable to finish the sentence when Makalaurë cut him off.

"No. That will not be necessary. My mother need not be bothered."

"Very well. But, we must alert the Elfling's parents or guardians."

"We will take care of that." Irissë assured him, a little too quickly.

Turukano sighed aloud, shaking his head at them. They were the worst secret keepers he'd ever met! It was clear that they were hiding something and it bothered Turukano that he could plainly read that fact from their faces.

"Irissë, Makalaurë, the two of you are fools if you believe you can lead me astray with your little charades." He bluntly told them. Irissë rapidly blinked, a little taken aback by her brother's statement. Makalaurë didn't appear to be affected. "I can tell that you know the Elfling. I can tell that you are hiding something. The entire family knows it. You haven't done well in proving otherwise."

"Oh, very well." Makalaurë breathed out, inwardly cursing himself. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt if he knew."

Irissë rounded on him. "What?! You can't-"

"I meant about the Elfling, Irissë." Makalaurë calmly said to her, and Irissë relaxed.

"If you think so...but you can't tell anyone, Turukano!" Irissë implored her brother.

"I would be most grateful if you were to keep this to yourself, as Irissë said, Turukano." Makalaurë said, smiling down at the Elfling he held. Refocusing his attention on Turukano, he said, "The Elfling's name is Elrond. He is my son."

Turukano wasn't at all surprised. "Ah."

"Ah?" Irissë echoed, shooting her brother a questioning glance. "That's all you have to say, Turu? 'Ah'?"

"You don't seem surprised." Makalaurë commented, taking in Turukano's calm outlook. Turukano shook his head, a bitter smile growing on his lips.

"Hardly anything surprises me these days, Maglor. And for good reason." He said to his cousin, running a hand through his long, black, hair as he walked closer to them. "Is he alright?"

"He is-" Makalaurë cut off abruptly, sharply jerking his head up and staring at Turukano with a sudden look of realization. "What did you call me?"

Turukano fixed him with a confused glance. "What do you mean?"

Irissë was also staring at him, slack-jawed. "Turu...you...you?!"

"What did you just call me, Turukano?" Makalaurë demanded to know, stepping closer to his cousin and intensely studying him. Turukano narrowed his eyes dangerously, subconsciously straightening his shoulders and raising his head so that he towered over the minstrel. Makalaurë wasn't at all fazed, determined in discovering whether he'd heard Turukano correctly or no. "I need to know, Turukano!"

"I called you Makalaurë."

"No, you didn't." Makalaurë denied, a shadow crossing over his eyes as he held Turukano's intense gaze. "You specifically said, 'Hardly anything surprises me these days, Maglor.'" He quoted, emphasizing his name at the end and raised an eyebrow at Turukano, daring his cousin to deny it.

Catching Turukano's eyes marginally widening, Makalaurë knew that he was correct.

"You are one of the others, then." He quietly declared, taking a step back so that he wasn't invading Turukano's personal space. "Din chose to send you back, didn't she?"

Turukano was silent, but after a few moments, closed his eyes and nodded. "You are correct."

"Turgon."

Turukano snapped his eyes open at the name, impassively staring down at Maglor. His expression was blank and Makalaurë and Irissë were unable to tell what thoughts were going through his head. His eyes were also dull and empty, not giving them any inclination as to how he felt at the moment, but they could sense the emotions that came with the name.

Pain. Grief. Sorrow. Anguish.

Emotions Makalaurë and Irissë knew well.

"Maglor. Aredhel." So he had been correct in his assumption. He'd suspected it for a while, but now, it was confirmed.

"I can't believe it..." Irissë, now Aredhel, said. "I thought it might be you...but to know that it is you..."

Makalaurë, Maglor, on the other hand had averted his gaze to stare at the ground. Turukano frowned when he saw the guilt and sorrow etched into his features.

"Maglor?"

"I'm sorry, Turgon..." Maglor whispered hoarsely. "I am so sorry..."

Turgon's shoulders slumped slightly, the tall Ellon shaking his head. "I have every right to be angry with you, Maglor, but it would be wrong of me to be so. You are not at fault."

Maglor raised his eyes, his brow furrowing. "How can you say that? After everything that happened..."

"None of it was your doing, Maglor. We all know that." Turgon sternly told him. "What happened came to pass because of that mad Elf of a Father you had."

Maglor hardly reacted to the insult Turukano had directed at his Father. How could he? He knew it was true. His Father had been mad. Maglor had said so himself many times during the Kinslayings and their twelve-year exile.

"If you are blaming everything on yourself, don't. You can't do that." Reaching out, Turgon grasped his cousin's shoulder tightly. "You're not at fault." he slowly reminded Maglor, enunciating every word as if to drive his point home. His gaze never left Maglor's, and Maglor found that he couldn't look away. The sincerity flickering in Turgon's eyes told him that his cousin honestly believed in the words he was speaking, and it shocked him. He couldn't understand it. "It's no use tearing yourself apart over it. We're here to keep it all from happening, and that is the only thing I am planning on doing."

"But-" Maglor started, only to have Turgon sigh dramatically and roll his eyes.

"I've long since forgiven you, Maglor. I've had time to reflect over those years in the Halls of Mandos,"

Maglor flinched at the name.

"And I've come to accept everything."

Maglor couldn't believe it. Looking from one cousin, to the other, he shook his head in amazement. "How could you? Why?"

"Oh, Maglor! I told you this earlier!" Aredhel scolded, placing her hands against her hips. "We never hated you in the first place! It wasn't even that hard to forgive you, so quit worrying about it! We have more important things to worry about!" She reminded him.

Maglor dazedly agreed with his younger cousin, unable to believe that they could have so easily forgiven him and accepted everything. He knew he would have been unable to.

By Eru, he was struggling to forgive Fëanaro and accept the fact that everything had happened because of him.

"Now, before you start thinking too hard over this," Turgon spoke up, examining the Elfling in Maglor's arms, "I believe we should bring Elrond to the Healers and ensure that he is well."

"Oh...Erm, yes. That is a good idea." Maglor nodded, allowing Turgon and Aredhel to lead him away from the clearing and back onto the path leading to Fëanaro's home. "What about the others?"

"They will be fine."

"No, I mean, the others we're meant to find."

"Ah, yes. There are, what? Two more we need to find?"

"Yep!" Aredhel brightly said. "One among us and another who supposedly lingers in the shadows."

"Yes." Maglor thoughtfully hummed. "And I think..."

He paused mid-stride when a thought struck him.

"By the Valar..." He breathed, mentally hitting himself for being so daft! "Din was right! I was blind, but I see it now!"

"What? What is it?" Aredhel wanted to know but all Maglor did was raise his head, staring ahead, and proclaim,

"I know who the one among us is." If he hadn't been holding Elrond, Maglor would have face-palmed. How could he have missed all of the signs? All of those clues Maglor had missed that had been practically screaming out to him that that certain someone had been the other he'd needed to find. "How could I have missed that fact?"

"Who is it?" Aredhel and Turgon chimed, wondering how Maglor could've found out.

"Come with me." Was all Maglor said, briskly walking ahead with Elrond. Tonight, he would need to confront the Elf and find out if he was right in him being the one.


~Duplicity~

"Lord Makalaurë!" The Healer who had checked on Elrond exasperatedly exclaimed, halfheartedly throwing a glare in his direction. "The Elfling is in perfect condition! He's only tired and most likely hungry. And yes, he is completely fine!" She tsked and shook her head. "You are quite the mother hen, milord! Coming in here and disturbing my other patients who should be resting!"

Maglor had the grace to look a little abashed.

Lowering his head, Maglor humbly apologized for the trouble he'd caused the Healer, missing the amused glimmer dancing in her eyes when she met Aredhel and Turgon's entertained gazes.

"I am truly sorry, Healer Nalara."

"Oh, Lord Makalaurë!" The Healer laughed, throwing her head back and shaking it at the young Lord.

Maglor stared at her, confused.

"Was it something I said?" he asked aloud, causing the Healer to laugh even more.

"Oh, Milord, you are a treasure. I was exaggerating. I don't even have any other patients save the Elfling!" The Healer told him, and Maglor pursed his lips together, not at all amused. "Oh, don't act like that." Nalara tsked again, patting Maglor's head.

It made Maglor wonder if he truly did shrink like Turgon had said, because he specifically remembered being up to Nelyo's shoulder in height, but now, he was barely a head taller than Tyelkormo.

"So, speaking of which, the Elfling," Healer Nalara started, sparing a glance at the small form curled up on the bed, "Are his parents informed of his whereabouts?"

"Yes." Maglor nodded.

"They are? I'm surprised they haven't come to see him."

"That's because he is standing right here." Maglor cheekily told the Healer.

"Oh? Really?" Nalara asked, raising her head to see where the Elfling's parent was. Maglor enjoyed watching the moment when his words clicked in Nalara's mind, and the Healer gaped at him. "What?! You!?" She incredulously sputtered. "Makalaurë!"

"What?" Maglor innocently raised his hands up in the air.

"By the Valar!" Nalara raised a hand up to cover her mouth, quelling the urge to laugh while trying to figure out if Makalaurë was being serious or not. "You're serious?!"

"As serious as I can be." Maglor nodded, smiling when Nalara laughed again.

"I can't believe this! Who's the lucky Elleth?" Nalara wanted to know, curious.

"Oh, I'm not married." Maglor honestly told Nalara, causing her eyes to widen.

"MAKALAURË!?"

Aredhel broke down laughing at this, clutching her sides while Turgon raised a hand to cover his eyes, his shoulders trembling with laughter.

Maglor quirked an eyebrow at them. Aredhel, who Maglor was afraid was ready to keel over at any moment, commented between gasps for breath,

"That sounded... a lot worse...than...than you meant...for it to be!"

Thinking back over what he'd just said, Maglor had to agree with Aredhel.

When Nalara managed to catch her breath, she bit her lip and gazed down at Maglor. "My, my, not so innocent as we appear, are we, Makalaurë?"

Maglor gave her an all-too-innocent smile, causing Nalara to cuff the back of his head in amusement.

"You've been corrupted, and all this time, your mother was complaining to me how you and Nelyo were responsible for corrupting Tyelko, Moryo, and Curvo."

"Yes. I never understood that myself." Maglor agreed and Nalara chortled. "Why, just the other day, Nelyo and I were having a discussion about it."

"I'm starting to think she might be correct. Do they know?" The Healer inquired, tilting her head in the Elfling's direction.

"Ah, no." Maglor denied.

"Oh?" Nalara's sparkling indigo eyes glimmered with surprise. "Why ever not? I'm certain Fëanaro and Nerdanel would be thrilled to learn that they have a grandchild!"

"Oh, yes! They certainly would be!" Maglor fervently nodded his head. "I'm sure they would be terribly thrilled!"

"I'm guessing there's a reason you aren't telling them?" It wasn't a question, but Maglor answered,

"Yes. One I'm not willing to give them just yet."

Nalara flashed him an understanding look, smiling gently as she checked on the Elfling again.

"Then I shall keep this to myself."

"Thank-you, Healer Nalara."

"Anytime, little one."

Maglor sighed when he walked over to Elrond's side, running a hand through the Elfling's hair. He'd forgotten how much he'd missed Nalara whenever they traveled to Middle-Earth. Nalara was very much like an aunt to him and the rest of his brothers, always doting on them whenever they 'visited' the Healing Halls. She was close to the family and a dear friend of Nerdanel. Whenever they had left, Nalara, who hadn't had the heart to let them go alone, went with them. She was the one who fixed them up whenever they sustained any injuries and comforted them when all hope seemed to be lost. She had been the one to help Nelyo claim his Father's place after Fëanaro's death and provided them with tips and suggestions whenever they needed them. Even though she had been suffering greatly, Nalara pushed all of her worries and concerns behind in order to take care of them.

Whenever Maglor had finally settled in Maglor's Gap between the hills surrounding Maedhros's home, Himring, Nalara had come over with him. It had been an awful year for Maglor. Tensions were running high between he and Maedhros and the reason he'd left Himring was because of a fierce argument they had had. Maglor couldn't recall a time he had been so furious. He guiltily remembered that he'd actually raised his voice against his brother, accused him of being such terrible things, then sneaked off into the night without saying goodbye. For some time, Maglor and Maedhros never contacted one another and Maglor was constantly beating himself up for everything he'd done. He had known his brother wasn't to blame, that his brother was innocent of everything he had accused him of, but he couldn't bring himself to apologize to Maedhros. He was still unhappy and unsettled. But, by then, Maglor couldn't even recall what the argument had been about. He only remembered everything he'd said and he had regretted it greatly.

Then Glaurung attacked.

That day had been one of the most horrifying to Maglor. Thankfully, one of his guards had warned Maglor of Glaurung's sighting and they were able to begin evacuating the Gap. Nalara had urged Maglor to flee, but Maglor firmly stated that he was the Lord of the Gap and that it was his duty to remain until all of the inhabitants had escaped. He would remain with his warriors until then.

Nalara had then tried to persuade Maglor into sending a courier to Maedhros, telling him what was happening, but, again, Maglor refused. What difference would it have made if he told Maedhros what was going to befall his Gap? Besides, the messenger wouldn't arrive to Himring until it was too late.

Seeing that his mind was made, Nalara had decided to remain with Maglor, much to his horror. No matter what he said, he couldn't convince Nalara to leave.

By then, it was already too late.

Glaurung had arrived.

There was fire everywhere. Buildings were burned to a crisp and Elves were dying in every direction Maglor looked, and there was nothing he could do.

When Glaurung had spotted him, the dragon made to attack. Maglor barely avoided being burned to death. He was forced to run, unarmed, trying to lead the dragon away.

Then, as luck would have it, Maglor accidentally ran into another Elf and fell. The other Elf, luckily, had fallen into a hole, out of the Dragon fire, but Maglor wasn't as fortunate. He'd managed to stand, but at that moment, Glaurung had gone to kill him. He had thought he was going to die when an Elf threw themselves at him, tackling him to the ground.

Maglor had heard the scream of pain that the Dragon's fire had torn from their lips and had felt his heart shatter. Dismayed and utterly distressed, Maglor had looked to find that it had been Nalara who'd rescued him.

Glaurung had been distracted for a split second, but it was enough for Maglor to take Nalara somewhere safe.

She had been burned so badly...There was no way she would be able to survive.

He had remained there with Nalara until her dying breath, stunned and overwhelmed with guilt. For hours, Maglor stayed vigil beside Nalara's body. He never answered any of his warriors' calls, too wrapped up in disbelief and grief to notice anything happening around him.

When he finally succumbed to his exhaustion, Maglor had slumped over and fell unconscious beside her.

It was in that manner in which he was found by Maedhros, who had actually ridden all the way to his Gap the instant he'd seen the flames rising up into the air from where he'd been standing, on his balcony, in Himring.

"Makalaurë?" Nalara's soft voice penetrated into Maglor's mind, and the minstrel blinked to find the Healer concernedly looking to him, a hand resting on his shoulder. "Are you well, little one?"

"Fine." Maglor answered, fondly tugging on Elrond's braid. "When should he wake?"

"In a few minutes, most likely." Nalara said, moving away to put all of the herbs she'd taken out away into her medical cabinets. "But make sure he gets plenty of rest tonight. Where is he going to stay?"

Maglor stilled his hand, mentally berating himself for not thinking of that before. "I have no idea."

"Well, if you don't want to reveal him to your parents, yet," Nalara began, emphasizing the last word and eyeing Maglor in the you-had-better-plan-on-telling-them-at-some-point, "I can take him in for some time."

"You wouldn't mind? I don't wish to impose on you."

"Pft, no!" Nalara waved away his concerns, the brunette shutting her medical cabinet and wandering across the room to gather some more of her herbs. "Besides, I could use the company. It has been boring with so few patients dropping by every once in a while."

"I'll warn you now, he's quite a handful." Maglor said, but Nalara shook her head.

"I'm certain he's far better than you were as an Elfling."

"I was not a terrible Elfling!" Maglor immediately denied, earning a look of disbelief from Nalara.

"Really? You certainly weren't the innocent little Elfling everyone believed you to be. I know everything you managed to get away with."

"Name one." Maglor challenged, truly not believing he'd been a mischievous Elfling.

"I'll do better than that!" Nalara assured him. "I'll name three!" She said, raising three fingers at the statement. "One," She touched the tip of her ring finger, "When you were fourteen, you decided it would be a marvelous idea to switch your Mother's soap with hair dye. Nerdanel had purple hair for a good two months because of that, mind you."

"I did that?!" Maglor was shocked, but now that Nalara had reminded him, he did remember having done that as an Elfling.

"Oh, yes. And dear Nelyo took the blame because he knew no one would believe it was you."

"Hm..."

"I'm not finished. Second," Nalara lowered her ring finger and touched the tip of her middle finger, "You replaced all of the sugar in the kitchen with salt on your Father's birthday, causing the Head Cook to bake his favorite cake with a large quantity of salt. Not only that, but you also managed to put a whole bunch of pepper into his drink, so when he tried to get rid of the salty taste..." She didn't finish the sentence, knowing Maglor would understand what she would've said. "Poor Fëanaro suffered for quite some time."

"Ai...I do remember that too." Maglor admitted, grimacing a bit. He could hear Din snickering in his mind and sent what he believed to be the equivalent of a glare to her.

"I believe Nelyo also took the blame for that one."

"I think Nelyo took the blame for everything I did." Maglor muttered, and Nalara affirmed his statement.

"Dear boy, always looking out for his brothers." Nalara fondly said. "Third," She added, waving her pointer finger in Maglor's direction, "You restrung every single one of poor Dalyr's instruments so that none of them were in tune. He spent a week correcting all of them, all the while lecturing Nelyo about toying with his precious treasures."

"Oh, yes, that one," Maglor grinned in a sinister manner, "Was actually done on purpose."

"Really?" Nalara raised both her eyebrows. "Whatever did Dalyr do to you, might I ask? He was unable to perform at the Celebratory Feast because of you!"

"He wasn't ready." Maglor defended himself and Nalara crossed her arms.

"Not ready?"

"And as much as he wanted to believe it, he couldn't play the harp. Valar, he was awful." Maglor added, cringing at the memory of when he'd overheard Dalyr practicing his music on his harp. "I did everyone a favor on that day."

"My, my, Makalaurë. And you claim that you were a perfect Elfling."

'Indeed.' Came Din's voice. 'What's this about slipping some choice herbs into your Grandfather's drink?' She asked and an image of what she meant appeared in Maglor's mind. The minstrel grimaced and withheld the urge to sigh, though his lips twitched upwards at the memory. His Grandfather's voice had been rather high for several days and the Ellon had to cancel most of his meetings because of how many couldn't restrain their laughter and focus on the task at hand.

Even Fëanaro found it entertaining, and would bait his Father into speaking in public. Of course, Finwë did avenge himself, making Fëanaro pay. Everyone had believed it had been Fëanaro who'd done it, no matter how much Fëanaro tried to deny it, and no one discovered that Maglor was actually the culprit.

Maglor sighed nostalgically. "Those were the days..." he murmured to himself, brushing the back of his hand against Elrond's chubby cheek. "Those were the days..."


~Duplicity~

After the visit to Nalara, Maglor had explained to Elrond, who'd finally chosen to return to the world of the living, that he was to stay with the Healer for a few weeks. Though Elrond was disappointed to be separated from him in an unfamiliar place, he obediently did as Maglor had asked and stayed with Nalara. After making Maglor promise to visit him every day, of course.

Now, Maglor was leading Turgon and Aredhel through the home to a certain Ellon's room.

"You're certain that whoever you think it is is the one?" Aredhel asked, just in case. Maglor nodded.

"I'm certain, and I have plenty of evidence to back up my claim should he deny it." He told them, turning sharply around the next corner and stalking down the hall towards the Family Corridor. He stopped in front of the door across his own, studying patterns drawn across the white, wooden, door for a brief moment. "Here." He said, pulling down on the handle and entering the room without permission.

Entering with Aredhel and Turgon watching him from the doorway, Maglor caught sight of the Ellon he was searching for seated on the bench out on his balcony, watching the incoming storm with bright eyes. The Elf had reclined far back on the bench, feeling the small droplets of rain splattering on his face as he turned his head up to stare up into the sky, excitement evident in his features.

"Moryo!" Maglor abruptly called, startling the dark elf greatly. "I need-" He winced in sympathy when Moryo slipped from his perch and fell onto the ground with a grunt.

"Makalaurë!" Moryo growled, glaring at his brother from his position on the ground. "What do you think you're doing in my room?" He dangerously asked. "Did you even knock?"

"No, but I need to have a word with you."

"It can't wait?"

"No."

Moryo groaned and lazily rolled over. Picking himself up from the ground, Moryo rolled his head to the side and regarded Maglor in a bored manner.

"What do you want?" He drawled.

Maglor studied Moryo closely.

"Well, you see, Caranthir, I realized something earlier today..." He slowly said.

"And what was that?" Moryo absentmindedly replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

Maglor allowed a slow smirk to grow on his lips. "And you have just proven that I was right."

"What do you mean?" Moryo asked, genuinely confused.

"You're right, Maglor!" Aredhel breathed, stepping into the room.

Moryo turned his head sharply to face Maglor.

"Maglor?"

"Caranthir."

"So, he is the other." Turgon said to himself, following after his sister. Moryo followed them with his eyes as they went to stand beside Maglor.

"Aredhel and Turgon, I'm guessing?" Moryo huffed, seemingly not surprised, but Maglor could tell from his brown eyes that he was.

"That's us." Aredhel nodded.

"How'd you figure it out?" Moryo asked Maglor, taking a seat on the chest positioned against the backboard of his bed.

"Well, first off, the day that I first returned to the past should've given it away, but I wasn't exactly in my right mind."

"That's an understatement." Moryo muttered under his breath. "So, what about that day should've given me away?" he asked, leaning back against the backboard, waiting for his brother to tell him.

"The name you called me."

"Makalaurë?"

"No. Brother."

"Toron?"

"Ah," Maglor raised a finger into the air, "But that wasn't what you said."

"Pray tell, what was it that I said?"

"If I remember correctly, whenever I raised my blade against Tyelko, you ordered, 'Put your blade down, muindor.'"

He waited for a moment as Moryo thought back to the day they'd found Maglor and discovered that it was true. "Brilliant deduction, Maglor. Anything else that gave me away?"

"Yes. The night I awoke after the three of you found me, in the Family Room."

"What about that night?" Moryo wanted to know. "Did I slip up again?"

"You did, but no one, not even I, noticed. Until a few moments ago, that is. You were lecturing me on my sudden return then demanded, 'Where in Morgoth's name were you?' I do believe Morgoth is still known as Melkor in this time, but that could just be me. "

"Hm. Yes, I guess that would give me away." Moryo, now Caranthir, agreed. "So, we've got four of us now."

"Five." Turgon corrected.

"Five?" Caranthir parroted.

"Uh-huh. We have Maglor's son with us too. Only, he doesn't remember much." Aredhel explained. Caranthir blinked several times, debating whether or not he'd heard correctly, then looked to Maglor.

"Your son?"

"Yes. Elrond. He is with Nalara at this moment."

"Your son?"

Maglor rolled his eyes. "I believe we've already established that. I had two. Twins, in fact."

"You?"

"Is it truly that surprising? I mean, out of all of us, Curvo was the first to marry and have a child."

"Good point." Caranthir conceded. "So...What now?"

"We need to find the last person who's meant to help us." Maglor answered. "Wherever they may be." He narrowed his eyes when Moryo took on a thoughtful expression. "You have an idea who the last one might be?"

"I think I might." Caranthir said, glancing outside for a quick moment. "And they're linked to those cursed bats I keep finding everywhere. D'you know, just today, I found one on my ceiling when I woke up."

Maglor snickered and Caranthir threw him a withering glare.

"It is a little creepy if you ask me."

"I don't disagree with you there."


~Duplicity~

"I don't know why, but for some reason, I'm really tired." Aredhel announced, stretching her arms high up into the air as she trailed after Maglor, Caranthir, and Turgon down the Family Corridor to the Dining Hall.

"Same here." Maglor agreed, raising a hand to cover his mouth as he yawned. "I think after dinner is finished, I shall check on Elrond then retire for the night."

"Doesn't the Feast start soon?" Aredhel asked him, tilting her head up to look at Maglor.

"Two days time." Maglor said in response.

"I can't wait!" Aredhel squealed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Turgon sighed at his sister's antics as she started to dance around them. "There are going to be so many people! So much food and desserts! Don't forget about the dancing!" She started to ramble on and the three Ellons listened to her as they continued the long trek to the Dining Hall.

They laughed when Aredhel, who was no longer paying attention to what was around her, ran straight into the doors of the Dining Hall.

"AI!" Aredhel yipped, rubbing the bridge of her nose and wincing. "Ow, that actually hurt!"

"I'm sure it did." Turgon sympathetically patted Aredhel's head and opened the Dining Hall doors. They stepped in to find everyone already seated at the table, with Fëanaro and Nerdanel happily seated across from one another. Finwë had seated himself to Fëanaro's right and Nelyo was to his left while Curvo and Tyelko flanked their mother. Ambarto and Pityo were also next to Curvo. Nolofinwë and Findekano were across from one another next to Ambarto and Pityo. That left four seats next to Nolofinwë, Findekano, Nelyo, and Finwë.

"Look who decided to show up!" Curvo called loudly, drawing everyone's attention to the four newcomers.

"Makalaurë! Irissë!" Tyelko greeted. "And Turukano. Morofinwë."

"Where were you two?" Nelyo inquired of Maglor when his brother slipped into the seat beside him. Turgon took a seat beside Maglor while Aredhel and Caranthir seated themselves beside Finwë and Nolofinwë.

"We found something along the path and decided to check it out." Maglor answered with ease, Aredhel nodding along with his words.

"You spent quite some time checking it, then." Curvo commented. "You spent our entire trip to the Waterfall with it."

"It was a wounded animal. Irissë and I had not the heart to leave it."

"Oh, poor thing. Is it alright?" Nerdanel asked, concerned. Maglor smiled at his Mother.

"Yes. It is safe and sound."

"Good."

"Now that everyone is present, we may commence eating." Fëanaro announced. The twin enthusiastically dug into their meal, leaving Maglor to shake his head at them.

The family conversed with one another about how their day had gone and what they planned on doing. Maglor found that Turgon was pleasant company. They talked for nearly the entire mealtime, sharing stories and telling one another of everything they'd been doing.

Lowering his voice to a whisper, Maglor quietly asked, "Turgon, when did you arrive?"

Turgon leaned closer to Maglor and whispered back, "Shortly after Aredhel. I had a training incident when Findekano let loose a stray arrow. I found myself in the healing ward with Findekano taking the entire blame for my injury. I must admit, I do believe I scared the daylights out of him."

Curious, Maglor had to ask, "Why?"

"Well...I did not take very well to suddenly finding myself in the past and immediately being greeted by Findekano." Turgon honestly told him. "But, when the Healer told me what had happened, I couldn't help but pretend that I had amnesia and had no idea who anyone was."

"How cruel! I take it he didn't handle that well."

"Oh no." Turgon shook his head, highly amused, recalling every moment of the incident. Findekano had looked so frightened and lost, and terribly guilty. "He panicked and nothing anyone could do would calm him down. I kept that charade up for days."

"Why would you do such a thing?!" Even though Maglor wasn't close to Findekano, and had never truly gotten to know his cousin, he felt for the Ellon. It had to be a horrifying experience. He knew Findekano had probably drowned himself in his guilt during those horrid days.

"To teach him a lesson." Turgon explained. "I would never do anything as heartless as that without a reason, Maglor!"

"Teach him a lesson? What lesson was that?"

"Well, there were several I taught him, though, Findekano didn't take too well to that." Turgon winced slightly when he recalled how Findekano had reacted. "And he has everyone believing he is a kind Ellon..." The tall Elf muttered, throwing his brother a glare. "All of those stories I could tell that would prove otherwise...He forgave me soon enough."

"Truly?" Maglor watched Findekano for a few moments but quickly looked away when Findekano caught them staring at him. The dark-haired Ellon raised an eyebrow when Turgon and Maglor smothered their laughter and started speaking to one another again.

"They look as if they are conspiring against us." Findekano remarked to his Father. Nolofinwë pulled away from his conversation with Finwë to see who his son was talking about and spotted Turukano and Maklaurë deep in conversation with one another, the two leaning close as they lowered their voices to a whisper. Every once in a while, the two would look away to watch someone else seated around the table then return to their conversation.

"Aye, that they do." Nolofinwë agreed, a little baffled. When had Turukano and Makalaurë grown to become like friends? Turukano and Makalaurë would normally keep to themselves, but that didn't seem to be the case anymore. Glancing around the table, he was even more surprised when he found Irissë seated beside Moryo, comfortably speaking with one another. Irissë was happily chatting away and biting into the fruit she held in her hand while listening to whatever Moryo had to say. Makalaurë and Turukano continued their conversation, becoming deeply engrossed in whatever subject they were talking about. Nelyo and Fëanaro were quietly speaking with one another, Curvo and Tyelko were helping Ambarto and Pityo, and Nerdanel was overlooking everyone, a small smile gracing her lips.

"The Feast is to begin tomorrow." Nelyo abruptly announced, and the talking died down as everyone looked his way. "Has everything been prepared?"

"I've completed my duties." Curvo and Tyelko chimed, with Makalaurë and and Moryo also voicing the same.

Nerdanel excitedly announced, "I finished my project a few hours ago and I wish for everyone to see it!"

"I'm certain it's fantastic, Ammë." Makalaurë complimented, and Nerdanel beamed.

"I do hope so! I plan on setting it out in the Hall."

Curvo rolled his eyes. "All of your work is superb, Ammë."

"My children are too kind!" Nerdanel commented, Fëanaro nodding in agreement.

"But, they are correct."

"We done too!" Ambarto and Pityo added, raising their tiny hands into the air. Curvo and Tyelko ducked when the fruit they had on their forks went flying over them. "Oops." The twins giggled, patting their brothers' arms apologetically.

"Little pests."

"And pwoud!" Ambarto and Pityo stated, puffing out their small chests and jutting their chins out in an arrogant manner.

"Who taught those two that, I wonder?" Nelyo muttered under his breath, discretely eyeing Moryo, Curvo, and Tyelko.

"They learn from the best." Tyelko defended himself, and his two brothers.

"That's what I'm afraid of." Makalaurë uttered softly, innocently looking away when the three glared at him.

Fëanaro grinned at the light banter his sons shared, wondering how they could have such a strong bond with one another. All of them were different from one another, and yet, they were so close, much unlike himself and his two other brothers.

His eyes twinkled as he thought over the announcement he wished to share with his family. Nerdanel happened to catch the look and raised an eyebrow.

"I recognize that look, Fëanaro. You're excited about something."

He mysteriously smiled in response.

"Well, out with it, Atto!" Curvo urged, wanting to know what his Father was keeping from them.

"Have you started another project, Fëanaro?" Finwë questioned, and Fëanaro dipped his head in his direction.

"That I have, Atto." He answered, not catching the way Makalaurë, Turukano, Irissë, and Moryo slowly lowered their utensils and shot one another an uneasy look.

"It wasn't supposed to happen so soon, was it?" Turgon whispered to Maglor.

"I don't think so. Too early." Maglor replied, though a flicker of fear surged through him. Across from them, Maglor could see Aredhel and Moryo having the same conversation, concernedly meeting his eyes, a silent question blazing within them.

He tried his best to ease their growing fear, gesturing for them to wait for Fëanaro to announce what his project was.

"What project is this?"

"The greatest I will ever partake of, I imagine." Fëanaro answered, and Maglor felt ice-cold claws grip at his heart. "Tis a rather large project I hope to accomplish."

"What- What is this project, Atar?" Maglor managed to ask, stuttering a bit.

Fëanaro rested his intense gaze on Maglor, "You will have to wait and see, my child, but I can tell you that it will take a large amount of concentration and risk. Manipulation too. What I plan on doing has never been done before. It is a tough challenge I hope to overcome, but I fear the light may be too strong and untamed."

Whatever else his Father was saying was lost to Maglor, who sat frozen in his seat. Turgon had also gone still beside him, the Elf tightening his hold on his fork. Caranthir blanched, and Aredhel had a death-grip on the dark-Elf's arm, her form tense as she stared, wide-eyed, at Maglor.

Maglor didn't know what to think, and he knew the three others felt the same. He was lost, unsure of what to feel. Sharp fear and a tinge of panic exploded within him and Maglor fought to keep his expression neutral.

Light, Fëanaro had said.

Light.

It was happening. This was how it had all started.

They had nothing planned! And they had yet to find the last person meant to aid them.


~Duplicity~

That night, neither Maglor, Turgon, Aredhel, or Caranthir could sleep. The four had been unable to finish their meal, numbly listening to Fëanaro as he told his family some of what his project would include. Once dinner was over, the four quickly fled the area and sought refuge in Maglor's room, where they remained still. Aredhel had curled up on the chaise nearest the balcony while Caranthir had stolen Maglor's bed. Turgon was seated atop his chest, thoughtfully watching as Maglor briskly paced the length of his room, his fingers intertwined together behind his back as he burned holes into the carpet.

Caranthir finally decided to break the silence. "What do we do now, Maglor?"

Maglor exhaled deeply as he turned to face his brother, helplessly shrugging. "I'm not sure. We can't approach Fëanaro and ask him kindly to drop the project...Valar forbid we ever did that. But..."

Turgon spoke up after Maglor trailed off, his fingers drumming against the lid of the chest, "What if we were to get a hold of the plans? Destroy them so that Fëanaro could no longer use them?" He suggested.

Aredhel shook her head. "But, I don't think Fëanaro even had plans laid out for the Silmarils. I think it was all in his mind."

"It was." Maglor affirmed Aredhel's words with a disturbed nod. "He dreamt it up one night and suddenly decided that he must create the Silmarils. At first, he was only creating them to see if it was possible to capture the light of Laurelin and Telperion. When he completed it, he showed it to everyone...It was only when Morgoth wanted the Silmarils for himself that Fëanaro lusted after them. He was consumed with madness when Morgoth slew Finwë and stole the Silmarils..." Maglor couldn't help but shudder when he thought about those horrid days. "It frightened me...It frightened everyone. At least Ammë had enough sense to leave when she did."

"Maglor..."

"I'm fine." Maglor quickly assured Aredhel, inhaling deeply as he tried to calm himself. "I only wish I had the courage she had. I was a fool to follow, but after the burning of the ships, I knew I was doomed. There was nothing left for me. The Mad Elf continued, led us to slay our own kin and swear that accursed Oath!" His fist slammed down on the top of his desk as he seethed, causing everyone else to jump. "And for what?! It was all for nothing in the end! Thousands upon thousands were slain, nations crumbled, lives were ruined, and we still went on! I wanted to leave. I wanted to flee from the Oath; I even tried to!" Maglor breathlessly rambled, his eyes wild as he recalled the day he had tried to run away from everything. "But Maedhros caught me...He was furious..." He choked on his words as the fear he felt on the day he faced his brother's wrath freshly tingled down his spine. "Amrod and Amras even stopped me from taking my own life. It was because of them I held on... But then, Curufin, Caranthir, and Celegorm were slain...And Amrod and Amras... I didn't know if or how I could go on."

Maglor's suddenly calmed, his breathing growing steady as he remembered the Sacking of Sirion. Well, something specific that came out of destroying the Havens. "And then I met Elrond and Elros. I've heard Elves claim that I pitied the two, but the truth is, they reminded me so much of Ambarto and Pityo. They reminded me of everything I once had. I couldn't allow Maedhros to kill them."

"Is it true that you threatened to kill Maedhros if he so much as laid a finger on the two?" Caranthir asked, leaning forward as Maglor huffed out a laugh.

"I did. I suggested taking them as hostages, though Maedhros knew better. Hostages?" Maglor shook his head. "That wasn't what they were. We knew we wouldn't be getting the Silmaril back, so why take hostages? Thankfully, Maedhros thrust them into my care and let it be. Those two never knew it, but they saved me. They gave me hope for a brighter future. Why they ever accepted me and called me their Father, even unto this day, is beyond me. I know they helped Maedhros to heal too." Maglor quietly sighed as he brushed his fingers over the harp laid out on his desk. "They even called him 'Atar,' and he never corrected them. I wish I never had to let them go...But neither Maedhros or I wanted them to suffer because of the Oath. Well, suffer more because of it." He corrected himself, his expression darkening. "We had to let them go...I didn't want to. When they left, it felt suddenly empty. Then we obtained the last two Silmarils and Maedhros..." Tears sprang to Maglor's eyes and the Minstrel furiously wiped them away with his sleeve. "I guess it became too much for him."

"And you cast the last Silmaril into the sea." Turgon sorrowfully finished Maglor's tale.

"Aye...I did..."

"Such a sad tale. Even I'm moved to tears!" A mocking voice abruptly rang throughout the room, and the inhabitants all looked to Aredhel to see if it had been she that had spoken. Aredhel, however, didn't notice it, trying to locate where the voice had come from. "I can sense your anger, grief, and pain, Maglor. We all share the same feelings. But, why linger in the past when you can look forward to the future? After all..."

A heavy wind blew through the open balcony doors and the candles Maglor had lit were put out.

Slowly, Maglor and Turgon rose to their feet when a shadow fell over them. Caranthir and Aredhel raised their heads to look up at the window nearest the balcony, watching as a nimble and lean figure flew into the room, landing in the middle of the four.

"That's what we're here to create, isn't it?" The figure rhetorically asked, raising their head to face Maglor. They smiled, allowing Maglor to see their sharp fangs and bright red eyes.

Maglor could hardly believe it. Surely, Din was jesting. This could not be the last person they needed for this task. This person was the last he would ever have expected to help them! But, there they were, standing right before them.

They hadn't changed. The same short, greyish-white hair that framed their face matched with dark eyebrows, red eyes, and wearing the same black, armored, outfit... He remembered them quite well.

The figure tilted their head to the side, their smile growing wide as they took in Maglor's reaction. "From what I've heard, Fëanaro's gotten started on crafting those Silmarils, huh? So, we'd better start planning. "

No answer.

The figure sighed melodramatically and rolled their eyes. "Right. Let me put it another way...Cheer up and let's get to work, alright?"

Maglor only blinked, telling the figure that their words had yet to sink into his thick skull. "Thuringwethil?" The Minstrel finally said.

Thurginwethil's shoulder slumped as she rolled her head back in exasperation. "Congratulations, Maglor, you remember who I am." She shot him a dull and bored look. "So, now that that's settled, can we finally get to work?"

"Thuringwethil?" Aredhel repeated, her brows drawing together in confusion. "Why in Eru's name did Din send Thuringwethil here?"

Thurginwethil dropped her head forward and settled herself on the chaise that Aredhel had abandoned.

"This is going to take a while, isn't it?"

"Well," Both Maglor and Caranthir chimed, "I guess that explains the bats."


~Duplicity~

Alrighty. Another chapter up and several more to go! I certainly hope it was worth reading.
Remember, constructive criticism most welcome! And thanks a bunch for the reviews and PMs! They've been very helpful and keep me motivated!

~Juliette Morbu