Gosh this is soooooo late! I am SO sorry! I've had so many appointments trying to figure out what's up with my knees and everything (Turns out I've sprained like every ligament possible :/) I really don't understand how that's possible since I don't do much during the days. Then, I had to go to a camp, and during my time away, my Uncle passed. So now, my family is travelling to Texas to support my Aunt's family. I promise I will update more frequently and I hope you guys are enjoying this story! I know there's not a lot of action and all, but I'm doing my best! I received some PM's and a couple of reviews asking me to update, so here I am! So, here's the next chapter!

Basically, it's about Maglor's Elflinghood/Childhood? And events from when he was an adolescent.

Enjoy!


~Duplicity~

A Glimpse of the Past-

Fëanaro worriedly paced the length of the corridor, his hands held tightly together behind his back. Nerdanel, he'd heard from Nelyo and his sitter, had gone into labor, and the Healers believed it was going to be a difficult one. Nelyo sat in a nearby chair, fidgeting every once in a while and his eyes would swivel over to the door at the far end of the corridor with immense worry.

It didn't help that his Father also appeared nervous. Nelyo was already nervous enough as it was. He didn't know what to expect. He was twenty-eight and already growing tall. Taller than most elflings his age, seeing as he was already up to his Father's waist. And now, he was about to have a baby brother. Or sister, neither of them knew. Nerdanel had wanted it to be a surprise, but Nelyo, for some unknown reason, knew it was going to be a boy.

He was going to be an older brother.

Nelyo was excited, but also worried. What if he was a terrible older brother? What if he wasn't what his brother needed? Would he like his brother? His father hated his...

"Why is it taking so long?" Nelyo heard his Father mutter, his voice barely a whisper as his eyes darted in the direction of his and Nerdanel's chambers. Nelyo bit his lower lip, tightly gripping the edge of his chair.

"Atto?"

Fëanaro started at his son's voice and looked over to find Nelyo shifting in his chair uneasily, looking up at his Father from beneath a curtain of hair. Fëanaro's eyes softened as he wandered over to where his son was. Placing a comforting hand on Nelyo's red head, Fëanaro smiled reassuringly.

"I'm certain everything is well, Nelyo. Your Mother is strong."

"I hope." Nelyo whispered, eyeing the floor once again as he kicked his feet. "Will I like him?" He questioned aloud.

Fëanaro tilted his head in question. "Will you like who?"

"My brother." Nelyo clarified, raising his head to meet his Father's gaze. "Will I like him?"

"And how do you know you're going to have a brother, hm?"

"I can feel it." Nelyo answered. "But, Atto, will I like him?" He asked again, gazing up at his Father in question.

"I'm sure you will, Nelyo."

"Will I be a good older brother?"

Fëanaro huffed out a laugh at his son's insecurities. "The best, Nelyo. I know for certain you will be." Ruffling Nelyo's hair, Fëanaro added, "You have no need to worry, little one."

"Not little." Nelyo immediately corrected and Fëanaro gave him a sideways grin.

"No, you're not anymore, are you? You're growing like a weed."

Nelyo broadly smiled at the statement when the doors to his parents' chambers flew open and a nurse came rushing out. Fëanaro whipped around to face her, barely concealed fear dancing within his piercing blue orbs. Nelyo shuffled closer to his Father, silently seeking comfort when he caught sight of the nurse.

Something had gone wrong.

That was the only reason this nurse would have come racing out the way she had.

"Nalara, what is it?" Fëanaro demanded to know, worry making his tone sharper than he intended.

Nalara raised her head to face her Lord, fists bunching the fabric of her apron. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out, frightening Fëanaro even more.

"Nalara, has something happened?"

"The delivery was more difficult than Healer Kliara had thought, Milord." Nalara began, and Fëanaro's mind immediately turned to the worst.

"Nerdanel? Is Nerdanel..?" He left the sentence hanging, unable to bring himself to finish it.

"Nerdanel is very weak, but she will live...It is..." Nalara blearily blinked her eyes, which were shimmering suspiciously and Nelyo felt a sharp pang of hurt flash through him.

It wasn't his Mother Nalara was trying to say was fading...It was his brother!

"The babe?" Fëanaro breathed out, and Nalara's once-bright eyes drifted shut as she reluctantly nodded.

Nelyo didn't wait to hear the rest of what Nalara had to say, instead breaking into a full-out sprint to his parents' chambers.

His baby brother was in danger of fading, Nelyo could sense it, and he refused to allow him to go!

"Nelyo!" Fëanaro's voice echoed throughout the corridor after him as the tall Ellon ran after him.

Sharply turning into the wide chamber, Nelyo skidded to a stop in front of the bed his Mother was lying in.

At his sudden entry, the Healers started. Nerdanel weakly turned her head to face him, her fair features streaked with tears. "Nelyo?" She softly murmured, too weak to speak.

Nelyo regarded his Ammë for a brief second then focused his attention on the white bundle in his Mother's arms. "Toron..?" He whispered, swallowing thickly as he crawled onto the bed, careful not to jostle it too much. "Toron?"

"Oh, Nelyo..." Nerdanel sighed, knowing Nelyo must have heard the devastating news. She, herself, felt as if she had been struck by a troll's hammer. The knowledge that her newborn was going to die was too much for her to bear. His delivery had been early...Two months earlier than expected. The Healer Kliara had performed an emergency delivery, hoping to save the babe, but it appeared that their efforts had all been for naught.

The babe hadn't even cried when it was born. It had remained peacefully silent, and it's eyes were closed, but Nerdanel knew that if the baby had opened them, she would have seen the most beautiful blue eyes that held the oceans hidden behind those closed lids. There was even a puff of inky-black hair to match those eyes.

Fëanaro entered the room next, slowing his pace as he neared the bed, his heart breaking at the crestfallen expression his wife wore and the denial flickering in Nelyo's eyes. As soon as he reached the two, Fëanaro carefully sat himself on the edge of the bed and wrapped a comforting arm around his weak wife's shoulders while placing a comforting hand on Nelyo's shoulder. Gazing down at the still babe with love and tears shining in his eyes, Fëanaro whispered, "He would have been a beautiful little Elfling."

"And would have grown to be a handsome Ellon." Nerdanel lovingly added, watching as Fëanaro delicately ran a finger down the babe's cheek before cupping it.

"And he will be!" Nelyo fiercely told both his parents, refusing to believe that his brother would die. How could his parents place such little faith in his tiny brother?

"Nelyo-" Fëanaro began, understanding how his son felt, but Nelyo would have none of it.

"No! Don't, Atto! He will live! I know it!" Nelyo firmly stated, gently taking one of his brother's small hands into his. He marveled at how his hand engulfed the little one's. "No, Toron. Don't let go, alright? You have to open your eyes, okay?" Nelyo softly said to the babe, earnestly pleading in his heart for his brother to live. "You need to say hello to the world, and to your brother, right? I've been waiting for you, everyone has! Now that you're here, you can't just leave without greeting us, now, can you? That wouldn't be fair!"

Nerdanel could have sworn her heart was breaking even more as she watched Nelyo attempt to talk his baby brother into opening his eyes. Fëanaro silently watched, none of the Healers moving from their spot as they watched the sad event unfold before them.

"Come on...Just think about everything we could do together! Think of all of the fun we'd have! I want to be your big brother, but I can't be if you leave me. Just this once, okay? Open your eyes...That's all you need to do, and I know you can do it!"

"Nelyo-" Nerdanel started to say, but came to a sudden stop when she felt her arms move. It wasn't exactly noticeable, but since Nerdanel had been holding the tiny bundle, she knew she had felt it shift. "What...?"

"Nerdanel?" Fëanaro worriedly turned to face his wife.

"Oh, by the Valar, Fëanaro! Look!" Nerdanel breathlessly exclaimed, staring down at the babe in shock and rising hope. Fëanaro immediately did as told and watched, stunned, as the babe's nose crinkled and his free fist moved. Nelyo gazed down at him with a growing smile.

"That's it, Toron! That's it!" He encouraged.

The babe, as if listening to his brother, parted his lips and let out a small, high pitched, whine before snapping his jaw shut and forcing his blue eyes to flutter open.

"Tis a miracle!" Healer Kliara exclaimed, all of the Healers struck with a sense of awe and amazement as they watched the babe whine again and squirm in his mother's arms.

Fëanaro and Nerdanel would've agreed if they hadn't known that it wasn't a miracle. It had been Nelyo who had called out to his brother, had placed tremendous faith in him, and coaxed him to return to them.

Nelyo released a watery laugh, overjoyed, his laugh mixing in with his brother's musical whines.

"He lives! He lives! Atto, Ammë!" Nelyo beamed.

"Yes..." was all Fëanaro could say, struck dumb at the vision before him.

"He does..." Nerdanel whispered, her voice wavering as she was overcome with a powerful wave of emotion. "He does!"

"Little Kanafinwë pulled through..." Fëanaro adoringly whispered, and Nerdanel clutched the babe closer to her, sobbing in relief and joy. Fëanaro pulled Nelyo against him, crushing the tall Elfling against his chest and burying his face in his hair. "It was because of you, Nelyo...He heard you...He knew you believed in him..."

His two sons would share a powerful bond, Fëanaro knew. Nelyo and the little babe had already proved that today, and Fëanaro would forever be in Nelyo's debt for saving his tiny son.

Nelyo didn't quite understand why his parents were so grateful to him, but he knew one thing for sure: he would make sure little Kanafinwë didn't regret pulling away from the Halls of Mandos.


~Duplicity~

"My, he is so small!" Nolofinwë remarked in awe, gazing down at his newest nephew.

"Yes, he is, isn't he?" Nerdanel giggled, listening as Kanafinwë warbled along with the flute playing nearby. "And a musical one. He absolutely adores music."

Kanafinwë blinked when Nerdanel tapped his nose, releasing an irritated whine when he was interrupted from his singing.

"Well, excuse me, you little monster." Nerdanel dramatically told the babe, shaking her head when Kanafinwë fell back into singing with the flute.

Nolofinwë smiled at the beautiful babe, though there was a trace of pain behind it.

Nerdanel caught the longing look Nolofinwë was giving her child and smiled. "Do you wish to hold him, Nolofinwë?"

Nolofinwë sharply raised his head at Nerdanel, embarrassed to have been caught. "Oh, it's fine. I...I couldn't..." He started to say, but Nerdanel tsked.

"Come now, Nolofinwë."

Nolofinwë shook his head, eyeing Fëanaro in the corner of his eye. "I am content in watching him, Nerdanel, but I, ehm, thank you for offering." He flashed her a small smile and Nerdanel suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at Nolofinwë. She, unlike Fëanaro, didn't resent the Ellon. He was a good friend and wise, and she knew he would take care of her children should anything ever befall Fëanaro or herself. She wished Fëanaro wasn't so harsh to his brother- half-brother or not. She knew Fëanaro resented Nolofinwë because Finwë supposedly held him in much higher regard than Fëanaro, and Nerdanel knew Nolofinwë felt the same. She'd overheard Nolofinwë confiding to a young Arafinwë that he felt Finwë didn't love him as much as he loved Fëanaro. He felt he was walking in Fëanaro's shadow, not that he minded, but he wished Finwë wouldn't compare him to Fëanaro every chance he had. Nolofinwë, Nerdanel could see, idolized Fëanaro. He had ever since he was an Elfling, and Nerdanel wished Fëanaro could see how much he meant to Nolofinwë and try to at least get along with his brother.

Not that she would ever voice her thoughts aloud. Valar knew how Fëanaro would react.

"Nonsense." Nerdanel dismissively said, rising and approaching Nolofinwë with quick steps, knowing she'd better act fast or Nolofinwë would flee.

Nolofinwë, catching what Nerdanel was going to do, immediately tried to rise from his seat, a reason as to why he suddenly had to leave just on the tip of his tongue when Nerdanel placed Kanafinwë in his arms.

"My son needs to get know his Uncle."

Nolofinwë remained stock-still, staring, wide-eyed, at Kanafinwë. Fëanaro, who'd been conversing with his Father, caught sight of Nerdanel's movement and frowned when he watched his wife place Kanafinwë in his brother's arms. But, as he watched Nolofinwë relax and regard his son which such awe and adoration, decided it was fine.

Kanafinwë, sensing another unfamiliar presence, rested his blue eyes on Nolofinwë, pausing in his singing. For a long moment, he and Nolofinwë locked gazes, then Kanafinwë cooed and giggled contentedly, happily resuming his soft warbles while waving his tiny arms in the air.

"He is beautiful, Nerdanel." Nolofinwë remarked softly.

"Thank-you."

"He will be the best musician Valinor has ever had, Uncle!" Nelyo declared from his place on the carpet. Nolofinwë thoughtfully glanced his way, watching Nelyo strategically build the best fort he could with the building blocks Nolofinwë had bought for him a few years previous.

"I think you are right, Nelyo." Nolofinwë agreed, chuckling when Kanafinwë whined unhappily. The flute player had finished their song and had decided they were finished, much to Kanafinwë dismay. "I think you are right..."


~Duplicity~

Nelyo exhaled heavily as he plopped, face-first, onto his bed. Today had been an exhausting day. In fact, this entire week had been nothing but torture for the newly-turned twenty-nine year old. His parents were busy, they'd been busy, and hardly ever came home, leaving Nelyo to care for Kanafinwë, who, for reasons unknown to Nelyo, was also upset.

He had fed Kanafinwë at the exact times Healer Kliara had said to, changed him whenever he needed to, and made sure he took a nap. It wasn't that Kanafinwë had been a bad baby or anything, he just...wasn't himself. Kanafinwë had been upset ever since Nelyo had gotten up that morning, and nothing Nelyo could do would cheer him up. Kanafinwë was now eight months old, but he was still tiny. It made Nelyo nervous.

He feared for his little brother. Kanafinwë looked so fragile Nelyo was afraid something bad would happen to him. On top of all that, Kanafinwë had started walking at seven months!

This caused Nelyo's worry to spike, and had him panicking earlier that morn. He had decided Kanafinwë could use some fresh air and had taken the young Elfling out to the Gardens. Kanafinwë had been content with sitting around and playing with whatever he could get his hands on, but after two minutes, he'd grown bored.

Nelyo had been trying to finish up one of his projects when he raised his head to check on his brother... Only to find that Kanafinwë was no longer there.

Almost at once, Nelyo went wild with terror and dropped everything to locate his younger brother. Thoughts of what could have possibly happened to Kanafinwë filled his mind and when Nelyo couldn't find him, he had fallen to his knees, ready to cry.

He'd failed.

He'd failed his parents, he'd failed himself...but worse of all, he'd failed Kanafinwë. What if his little brother was injured? What if he was hurt and Nelyo had no idea? What kind of brother was he?!

Nelyo had pulled his knees up against his chest, encircling them tightly with his arms, then allowed his head to fall against them, furiously blinking away the tears.

Crying wouldn't help him find Kanafinwë. No. If he wanted to find Kanafinwë, he needed to chin up and calmly search for the elfling. He was bound to be somewhere in these vast gardens.

Inhaling deeply, Nelyo calmed his frantically beating heart and raised his head.

He was surprised to see Kanafinwë worriedly peering up at him, one tiny hand resting on his knee and the other reaching up to grasp a fistful of red hair. His small brow was furrowed in concern, his lips pursed together in a pout as he tugged Nelyo's hair.

"Kanafinwë!" Nelyo had exclaimed, relieved, and had gathered the small Elfling in his arms. "Don't do that to me again, Toron! I was so scared that something had happened to you!"

"Ah?" Was all Kanafinwë had uttered, patting Nelyo's shoulder in confusion. He couldn't understand why his brother was upset, but it made him upset to see Nelyo downtrodden.

"What were you even doing, Kano? Where were you?" Nelyo inquired, pulling away in order to look at the eight-month-old.

Kanafinwë sputtered incoherent sounds as an answer to his brother's question, swinging one of his fists up and down as he 'told' Nelyo of his adventure in the gardens. Nelyo laughed at his brother, shaking his head when Kanafinwë pounded his small fist against his chest.

Knowing he'd caught his brother's attention, Kanafinwë slowly opened up his fist to show Nelyo what he had found. Nelyo watched as the finger uncurled around their precious item to reveal a beautiful, red, flower. It was a flower Nelyo didn't recognize and when Kanafinwë poked him again, Nelyo realized what his little brother wanted him to do.

"This is for me?" Nelyo asked the babe, a little incredulous. "You got this for me, Kano?"

Kanafinwë, not understanding any of the words his elder brother was saying, gave him a high-pitched laugh and clapped his hands together when Nelyo took hold of the flower he'd gotten him.

Maybe now his brother would cheer up.

Snuggling closer to Nelyo, reveling in the sense of comfort and safety his elder brother gave him, Kanafinwë yawned and burrowed his head deeper into the fabric of Nelyo's tunic.

That adventure he'd taken had sure been taxing, but it was worth it.

Nelyo fondly watched as Kanafinwë fell into a deep sleep and cradled the small body in his arms. Standing with caution, Nelyo returned to their large home and headed for his room. He knew Kanafinwë had gotten used to staying with him and would be upset if Nelyo left him in his parents' room, so he brought the babe with him to his chambers.

Placing Kanafinwë onto his bed, Nelyo made sure Kanafinwë would be safe by creating a makeshift barrier on the edges of his mattress then, after looking over Kano one last time, went to complete his studies.

Now, he'd finished his studies and Nelyo would allow himself a brief nap before getting ready for dinner. Nestling closer to Kanafinwë, Nelyo shifted until he was comfortable, lightly resting one of his hands on Kanafinwë so that he would wake any time Kanafinwë moved, and allowed himself to give in to his need to sleep.

The flower Kano had given him remained in his hand, and he made sure to dry it out and press it between two pages of his favorite storybook.


~Duplicity~

At seventeen months, Kanafinwë, now dubbed Kano by Nelyo, had spoken his first word. Actually, his first two words.

And it wasn't one anyone had expected.

But, anytime those present would think back to that memorable moment, they could understand why Kano had chosen for that to be his first word.

Of course, it had made Nerdanel and Fëanaro rather jealous, but they, too, understood.

Nelyo, however, couldn't quite understand why Kano had said it.

The small family, along with Nolofinwë, Arafinwë, and Finwë were gathered together in the Family Room. It was snowing outside, and the holiday Nelyo was excitedly looking forward to was just around the corner.

He'd finished every project he had been working on and couldn't wait to present them to his family. Nelyo was also pleased that the family was spending time together before it was time to retire. His Uncles were seated together on the nearby couch facing Nerdanel and Fëanaro, and Finwë was sitting in the comfortable chair in between the two couches. That left Nelyo with the chaise.

And Nelyo had gladly taken the chaise. Kano, who had now become an expert at walking, had climbed onto the chaise to snuggle with him, happily looking at the pictures in his storybook Nelyo was holding for him.

Kano, much to Nerdanel and Fëanaro's relief, was a calm Elfling. He was also a good one. Kano hardly caused anyone any trouble, unless he was terribly upset over something. He was a quiet Elfling, always observing his surroundings and watching others around him. Whenever he uttered a sound, it was always musical. Even if he was gurgling nonsense, Kano's voice was as smooth as silk. He still loved music with a passion and would always become overly enthusiastic when someone would play an instrument near him.

And, Nelyo discovered that he now had a second shadow. Anywhere he went, Kano followed. It was amusing for many of the Elves to watch. Anytime they would find Nelyo wandering aimlessly through the halls, Kano would patter after him, wanting to be near his brother.

Kano always looked crushed whenever Nelyo had to go somewhere Kano couldn't and it took a lot of effort to part him from Nelyo. Nelyo didn't mind, and he often found that he missed his brother's presence when Kano was gone.

Whenever he retired late at night, Nelyo would always stop by Kano's room to make sure his little brother was sleeping well, undisturbed by nightmares, then go to his room.

This week, however, Nelyo had been released from his lessons and Kano was ecstatic to have his brother back. The Elfling was practically glued to Nelyo.

And, Nelyo smothered a smirk, whenever Nelyo wasn't around, Kano sought out Nolofinwë and Arafinwë. His Father had become rather jealous over that fact.

Finwë sometimes spent time with Kano, entertained by the Elfling's antics.

Kano's bored sigh reigned Nelyo back to the present, and the twenty-nine year old grunted when Kano slumped back against him, slamming his book shut. "Not interested anymore, hm, Kano?" Nelyo grinned, taking the book and setting it onto the table. Kano blew a raspberry in response, mumbling random sounds as if explaining to Nelyo the reason why he was bored with the book. "Uh-huh." Nelyo played along, his smile broadening when Kano started waving his arms around while he continued his long explanation. "Really?"

Kano finished with another heavy sigh, toying with Nelyo's hand.

Nerdanel and the others had watched the entire interaction with amused smiles.

"Kano seems to love you very much, Nelyo." Arafinwë remarked. Nelyo looked up in surprise, as if he'd forgotten anyone else was there, then wrapped his arms around Kano.

"Well, he is my little brother." Nelyo bashfully said. "I'd hope he liked me!"

"And before he was born, you were worried that you wouldn't be a good big brother to him." Fëanaro said with his trademark smirk.

"I try to be." Nelyo humbly responded. "I did promise..."

"Yes, you did. But you needn't worry, Nelyo." Nerdanel assured her son, her heart warming at the sight of her two sons together.

"You are the best big brother Kano could ever ask for." Nolofinwë said, and Nelyo looked to him.

"Do you think so, Uncle?"

"We know so, Nelyo." Nolofinwë nodded, and Nelyo looked relieved. He had been working hard to be the big brother Kano deserved.

"Oh! I forgot the drinks I had made ready for tonight!" Nerdanel abruptly said, berating herself for having forgotten. "Nelyo, would you mind fetching the tray for me, please?"

"Of course, Ammë." Nelyo obediently replied, rising from the chaise and setting Kano down.

Kano, uncertain as to why Nelyo was leaving, let loose a string of unhappy mumbles, as if demanding for him to stay. Nelyo paused long enough to pat Kano's head reassuringly. "Don't worry, Toron. I'll be right back!" He promised, leaving the room quickly.

"I don't think we have anything to worry about, Nerdanel." Fëanaro told his wife once Nelyo was out of earshot. "It appears that Nelyo has everything under control."

"Indeed." Nerdanel huffed out. "Kano absolutely adores Nelyo! I can't help but feel jealous." She admitted, listening to Kano as he tried to hum along with the flutist playing nearby. Surprisingly enough, Kano managed to match the flute's pitch and follow the rhythm with ease.

Oh, yes. It appeared her son would be skilled in music later on.

Never would she have imagined that Kanafinwë would become Valinor's greatest minstrel. Only one other Elf would ever be able to rival Kanafinwë's talent in music.

"Now you understand how I felt when Nelyo refused to let you go when he was but an Elfling." Fëanaro muttered, causing Finwë to laugh.

"Don't worry, Fëanaro, I'm certain you will have your turn." Finwë promised, patting his eldest's shoulder.

"Hmph."

Nelyo returned not long afterwards, a tray of steaming hot cocoa in hand. "Cook also gave me some cookies for us to eat." Nelyo announced, setting the tray down on the center table.

"Oh, Cook is always so kind." Nerdanel smiled, studying the cute cookies Cook had baked. They were shaped as ornaments and stars and colorfully frosted. They looked very delicious that Nerdanel couldn't help but instantly bite into one. "My, my! Cook has truly outdone herself this time!" Nerdanel nearly exclaimed, reaching for another cookie.

"I had better grab one before you eat it all." Fëanaro said, reaching over to take a cookie shaped like a tree off of the tray. Nerdanel shot him a glare, biting into her second cookie. Nelyo, after making sure everyone was given their drinks, made to step back when his foot slipped on one of Kano's stray toys.

Uttering a small cry, Nelyo toppled backwards, striking his head on the small table beside the chaise painfully.

"Oh Valar! Nelyo!" Nerdanel exclaimed, dropping her cookie and leaping to her feet at once and rushing to her son's side. Fëanaro was quick to follow, kneeling at his son's other side while everyone else stood and watched with concern.

Nelyo had squeezed his eyes shut from the pain, raising a hand to cover the part of his head he'd hit.

Kano, who had overheard the commotion, looked over to see Nelyo lying on the ground. Catching the pained look Nelyo wore, Kano concernedly slipped off of the chaise and waddled over to his brother's side, bottom lip wobbling when Nelyo hissed in pain.

"Are you alright, Nelyo? Should we call for a healer?" Nerdanel was demanding to know, trying to get a good look at Nelyo's injury, but Nelyo refused to move his hand.

"After a fall like that, yes!" Fëanaro answered, gently grabbing hold of Nelyo's wrist. "Come now, Nelyo, let me see."

Kano stared, wide-eyed, when Fëanaro was allowed to pull Nelyo's hand away and see the large bump and the beginning of a nasty bruise just above his right ear. There was also a trickle of blood running down the side of his head that caused Kano to cringe. It looked painful.

"To'on?" Kano shakily called out, forcing his way past Nerdanel to reach Nelyo's side.

Nelyo snapped his eyes open upon hearing Kano's voice and raised them to look up at his baby brother in surprise. Kano had tears shimmering in his eyes as the Elfling stared, horrified, at the bruise and blood on his brother's head. "To'on?" He repeated, not realizing that everyone had gone silent and were staring at him in shock.

"K-Kano?"

"Nel..." Kano's lips wobbled as he reached a small hand out to touch his brother's head, making sure not to place his hand anywhere near the bruise.

The pain suddenly dulled to a throbbing sensation when Nelyo realized what Kano was saying. He had called him 'Toron' and had tried saying his name, 'Nelyo.'

All of the other Elves seemed to have come to the same conclusion, with Nerdanel staring at Kano.

The Elleth's jaw had dropped in shock. "Kano..!"

"I don't believe it..." Fëanaro breathed.

Nelyo sat up, leaning against Fëanaro when his head pounded at the sudden movement. "Kano, what did you say?" He asked, wanting to make sure he'd heard correctly.

Kano, confused but knowing he'd done something to please his brother, replied, "To'on!"

"Amazing!" Finwë laughed. "He's spoken his first two words!"

"Toron and Nelyo. Well, what do you know?" Nolofinwë murmured.

"I never would have expected those to be his first..." Fëanaro lowly remarked, mostly to himself.

Nelyo couldn't help but smile widely at Kano. "Good job, tithen Toron!" Nelyo congratulated the babe. Kano grew even more confused, wondering what he'd done to receive such reactions, but as long as Nelyo was happy, he was fine.

"To'on..." Kano settled himself in Nelyo's lap and stared up at the red-head. Nelyo, still smiling, patted his brother's head, proud that Kano had spoken not only his first, but two, words.


~Duplicity~

"Ai, Valar!"

The frustrated growl caught Nelyo's attention and the red-head looked to find Kanafinwë, now known as Makalaurë, heavily leaning against a pillar by the gardens. He looked...upset, and that was most concerning.

Makalaurë ran a hand down his face, rolling his blue eyes up at the sky in irritation. "Why me?"

Nelyo leaned further around the corner to see Makalaurë clutching the remains of...

Oh...

Was that a harp Makalaurë was holding?

"Kano? Is everything alright?" Once the words fled past his lips, Nelyo wanted to slap himself. Of course everything was not alright! It was clear from the way Makalaurë's shoulders were tense and his eyes were blazing with fury.

Makalaurë whipped around at the question, appearing ready to run Nelyo right through. "Is everything alright?!" Makalaurë repeated, scowling darkly. "No, Nelyo! Nothing is alright! What is wrong with me, you must be wondering. I'll tell you what's wrong!" The adolescent bit out, trembling in barely concealed rage. Nelyo bit his lip, wondering what could have angered his brother so. It was a little frightening to see, since Makalaurë was the calmest most unprovoked of all of Fëanaro's children. "Tyelko, Moryo, and Curvo decided it would be most amusing to break into my room and destroy the jewelry I'd been working on in the Forge as a project and, oh, as if that wasn't enough," He continued, breathing harshly, "They completely obliterated my harp! The one Ammë bought for me from-from...URGH!" Makalaurë exclaimed as he threw down what was left of his harp onto the ground as his hands flew up to clutch the braids in his hair.

Tears of anger and sorrow fluttered behind those blue orbs, and it made Nelyo upset.

Nelyo watched, without moving, as Makalaurë closed his eyes and took deep, calming, breaths.

After a few moments, Makalaurë shakily exhaled and straightened himself, fixing the braids he'd messed up. "It doesn't matter, I guess. I'll just...wait to get another one." He murmured, still distressed over the loss of his beloved instrument. With sad eyes, Makalaurë apologized for his wrath to Nelyo and left the gardens before the Ellon could say anything.

Nelyo stared after his brother, worrying his lower lip. It pained him to see Makalaurë so upset. And so it was, that for the remainder of the day, Nelyo tried to figure out what he could do to bring that radiant smile Makalaurë was famous for back onto his face. It was disturbing not to see Makalaurë smile.

When the family gathered round the table for dinner that night, Nerdanel and Fëanaro both expressed their concerns when they found Makalaurë's chair empty.

"He is mourning." Nelyo explained to them, sending a stern and disapproving look in Tyelko, Moryo, and Curvo's way. The three shrank back at the stare, guiltily looking at one another.

"Mourning?" Finwë repeated, a little amused by Nelyo's choice of words.

"Aye." Nelyo somberly nodded. "His harp was broken today."

"Oh." Fëanaro straightened at this, catching onto the severity of the situation. "How did that happen? Can it be fixed?"

Nelyo shook his head. "It is beyond repair."

Nerdanel was visibly upset at this. "Oh, poor, Kano. He must be terribly upset! Will he be alright?"

"How was it broken?" Fëanaro inquired, fingering a package he was holding in his hands.

Nelyo eyed his three younger brothers again. "He wouldn't say." Silently, Nelyo communicated to his brothers that he would be the one to lecture them for breaking Kano's harp.

And since that night, neither Tyelko, Moryo, or Curvo dared enter Kano's room without permission or touch any of his instruments. The three had profusely apologized for their actions, which made Kano wonder what exactly Nelyo had said or done to get their brothers to feel so remorseful over breaking his harp, but he certainly wasn't complaining. As long as his instruments were safe...


~Duplicity~

The second time he had seen Kano become visibly upset had occurred whenever all of the sons of Fëanaro, excluding the twins, were learning how to forge. Fëanaro had decided that his sons needed to learn the arts of Forgery, but neither Nelyo, Kano, Moryo, or Tyelko were good at it. Curvo excelled greatly at forging, and while Tyelko was decent at it, Nelyo had deemed himself a lost cause. He knew Kano and Moryo felt the same, since neither of them could even bring themselves to understand the basics of forging. But, that didn't stop Nelyo from trying.

By practicing for hours on end, Nelyo was now skilled in making jewelry. They weren't fancy, but they were still quite beautiful. While he couldn't forge a sword of his own, even after several decades of practice, Nelyo was of great help to Fëanaro when he was working. If Kano or Moryo needed aid, Nelyo would stop what he was doing and provide them with some advice and show them how a certain thing was done. Moryo seemed to be getting the hang of it, but Kano still couldn't wrap his mind around what he was being taught. Nelyo felt for Kano. Anytime he would look over to his brother, Kano's shoulders were more slumped than usual and his lips were twisted in a disappointed frown. It was clear that Kano was berating himself for not being any good at forging.

One night, Nelyo had overheard Kano call himself a disappointment to Fëanaro, but he'd been unable to confront Kano about it since the minstrel had a tendency to disappear into the night and not return until the moon was high in the sky. This didn't concern Nelyo, since he knew Kano wandered down to his favorite clearing and practice on one of his instruments until he felt comforted enough to face another day.

Right now, Nelyo was helping Fëanaro with purifying the metal they used for their Elven blades. When they finished heating up the sword they were working on, Fëanaro skillfully slicked away the impurities that had floated to the top of the blade. Once through, Fëanaro stabbed the sword back into the fire, calling to Curvo to bring him a few tools he would need. Makalaurë was working hard on whatever Fëanaro had put him up to, and Nelyo could sense the pent up frustration and irritation building up within his younger brother. Outwardly, Makalaurë's calm visage betrayed how he truly felt, but the tenseness of his shoulders and trembling hands told another story. Inwardly, Nelyo had a feeling Makalaurë was ready to explode. He only prayed that it wouldn't happen. Makalaurë could be very frightening when angered or frustrated.

He knew this from personal experience.

Nelyo shuddered just thinking about it.

When Nelyo turned to pull the sword from the fire, he heard Fëanaro breathe out a name in exasperation, "Makalaurë,"

Nelyo's eyes widened marginally as he slowly turned his head to see Fëanaro leaning on Makalaurë's table, standing across from his second-born. His sharp eyes were taking in Makalaurë's ruined project with disappointment and a tinge of annoyance.

Makalaurë bowed his head, as if he'd been chastised and had failed his Father, hiding his eyes from his Father behind a curtain full of inky-black hair. He looked much younger than eighty-four when he shirked back from his Father's disappointment in that manner. The minstrel swallowed thickly, waiting for his Father to begin his lecture.

"I don't understand, Makalaurë. I have taught you this hundreds of times now and you still can't seem to understand even the basics of the procedure!" Fëanaro muttered, shaking his head as he examined pieces of Makalaurë's project scattered over the tabletop. "It is such a simple task! One even an elfling can do while blindfolded!"

Nelyo bit his lip, raising his head to pierce his Father with a disapproving glare. However, Fëanaro didn't seem to catch it, too busy continuing to tell Makalaurë all he'd done wrong and that the project was beyond saving.

By now, Tyelko, Moryo, and Curvo had slowly set their tools down, watching Fëanaro scold Makalaurë a little more harshly than necessary. All three of the young Elves glanced in Nelyo's direction, troubled. Curvo was silently urging Nelyo to do something when Makalaurë's trembling increased. Fëanaro, of course, had turned a blind eye to it.

"Tell me, Makalaurë, what is it about this that is so difficult for you to understand? Sixty years of experience and you still cannot seem to comprehend anything I've taught you." Fëanaro continued, and Nelyo could've sworn he'd caught sight of a couple tears slipping down Makalaurë's smooth cheeks and spill onto the ground below. His fingers bunched up the fabric of his apron earnestly, meaning that he was close to his breaking point. "I truly wish to know, Makalaurë-"

Nelyo attempted to intervene before Fëanaro could continue, briskly stalking over and reaching out to firmly grasp his Father's shoulder. He had grown taller than Fëanaro when he'd turned forty, and was now a good few inches taller than Fëanaro. He had only just reached his Father when Makalaurë snapped, unable to handle his Father's disappointment. Whipping his head up, eyes shimmering with tears of frustration and self-hatred, a sight that broke Nelyo's heart to see, Makalaurë clenched his fists at his side and fiercely spat out,

"Can't you see?! I can't! I can't do it!" Makalaurë angrily wiped away the tears trailing down his cheeks, his breath hitching a couple of times as he fought to control himself. "I can't forge! I wasn't made to forge!" He shouted, causing Fëanaro to blink in surprise and Nelyo to cringe. He was too late. Makalaurë had had enough, and their Father was just about to see that. "I don't know how to do anything, clearly!" He huffed out.

Curvo hid behind Moryo and Tyelko, who were also backing away, stunned. They had never seen Makalaurë look so...upset before. Except for the time when they'd broken his harp.

"What don't you understand, Atto!?" Makalaurë demanded to know, flinging his arms up into the air. "Can't you tell that I'm a minstrel?! A musician?! I wasn't made for this! I'm not like you!" He bit out, and Fëanaro started at this proclamation. "I'll never be like you! Forgive me if I have disappointed you, but that is how I am! I. Am. Me!" He slapped a hand over his chest as if to emphasize this point. His anger, which had been bubbling to the surface, slowly began to cool down and Makalaurë's breathing steadily grew more stable. The minstrel was still trembling, upset with himself and with his Father. Mostly, he was berating himself for not being the son his Father wanted him to be. He couldn't make his Father proud. "Not you...If I have let you down, I apologize, but I can't change who I am, Atto." He inhaled deeply, straightening his back and shoulders. Keeping his eyes low, Makalaurë calmly added, "I hope you will understand."

For what felt like a long time, there was absolute silence in the forge. The only sound that could be heard was the crackling of the fires burning, the flames casting an eerie glow in the darkness of the Forge, lighting up one side of Makalaurë's face and leaving the other half hidden by the shadow. Curvo never once relinquished his hold on his brothers' arms, peering over their shoulders to see if Makalaurë had calmed. It had frightened him more than he was willing to admit, watching Makalaurë blow a fuse and cry. Tyelko and Moryo were also disturbed, watching Makalaurë with startled expressions and worried eyes. They had known Makalaurë detested forging, and that he was known to hate himself for being unable to please their Father, but they hadn't expected this to happen.

Fëanaro apparently hadn't expected it either, the Ellon staring at Makalaurë with an unreadable expression, his lips parted but no sound coming out. It looked as if he didn't know what to say after Makalaurë's outburst.

Makalaurë, unlike everyone else, was horrified with his loss of composure. By the Valar, he had yelled at his Father for something that wasn't his fault! If there was anyone to blame for his failure, it was himself. He was the one at fault, not his brothers, and certainly not his Father, the Ellon who had patiently tried to teach Makalaurë everything about forging for many decades. He was grateful for his Father, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't forge to save his life and he had hoped his Father would see and understand that. Clearly, his hopes were in vain. He'd tried all that he could to better himself and strove to make his Father proud, but apparently, he hadn't done a good job at it. His Father had shown that today.

In barely a whisper, highly embarrassed and terribly upset with himself, Maglor uttered a small, "I'm sorry." And fled.

The door to the Forge was carelessly flung open, a loud banging noise echoing through the silent building whenever it greeted the warm wall, and the Elves watched as Makalaurë tore the apron off of him and ran out the door, vanishing into the woods.

Nelyo was the first to snap out of his daze, the tall Elf surging forward to chase after his little brother. "Kano!" He called, but was stopped from pursuing him by Fëanaro grasping hold of his arm. Snapping his head down to meet Fëanaro's intense grey eyes, he made to order his Father to let go when Fëanaro spoke,

"Go home." Fëanaro told him, and before Nelyo could object, said, "Let me go to him."

Nelyo silently eyed his Father suspiciously, wondering what Fëanaro had in mind. Could he allow Fëanaro to go after Makalaurë? Wouldn't that make things worse? He knew his Father well, and from what he suspected, Makalaurë probably didn't want to see him for a long while. "Are you sure that's wise, Atto?" Nelyo asked him, sharply, flashing his Father a disapproving look. Fëanaro had the grace to look ashamed, the proud Elf averting his eyes. "Makalaurë wouldn't want to see you. Not after this." He said, jerking his head in the direction of the door. "I should be the one to go after him."

"No." Fëanaro denied, locking gazes with Nelyo, determined to win the argument that was sure to come. Nelyo narrowed his own blue orbs, a hint of steel flashing within them.

"No?" he slowly repeated, casually raising an eyebrow in question.

"No." Fëanaro affirmed, dipping his chin.

Nelyo tipped his head to the side at this, folding his arms across his chest.

Tyelko, Moryo, and Curvo warily watched them. Nelyo had become an imposing figure, staring down at their Father the same way a parent would their child if they had misbehaved. Fëanaro was evenly returning the stare, challenging Nelyo.

"He won't want to see you, Atar." Nelyo growled, leaning forward intently, daring their Father to contradict him. "After what you did."

"Look, Nelyo, allow me to-"

"Are you deaf, Atar?" Nelyo cut him off, lowering his arms and spreading his hands out. "He won't want to see you."

"Nelyo, please!" Fëanaro growled out, becoming irritated. "Can't I apologize?"

Nelyo merely shot him an incredulous look. "You must be blind as well."

Fëanaro ground his teeth together. "I beg your pardon?"

"You are blind." Nelyo slowly enunciated each word. "How is it that you didn't notice Makalaurë struggling until now? These past sixty years have been nothing but torture to him. Like Kano said, he was not made for the Forge. He only continued to try forging because he wanted to make you proud, but nothing he did worked. You were constantly lecturing him over every little mistake he made and scolding him for being unable to grasp the basics of forging. Do you know that after every day we spend in the Forge, Kano leaves and doesn't return home till late in the night because he is angry with himself for failing you?"

Fëanaro looked taken aback at this information. "What? Failing me?"

Nelyo sharply nodded. "Yes. You have never shown Kano that you were proud of him at least trying to forge. Do you remember the necklace Ammë received for her begetting day? The one she still wears to this day? And the fused gem you were given for the Winter Festival? The one you fused onto your bracelet?" He asked, gesturing to the large gauntlet-type bracelet Fëanaro had clasped onto his wrist.

"I do..." Fëanaro responded, peering down at the beautiful gem. Running a finger over it, he gave his son a questioning glance. What about those gifts? What was Nelyo trying to tell him?

Nelyo heaved a sigh, shaking his head in disbelief. His Father truly did have a thick head. Rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling, Nelyo tore them back down to Fëanaro. "Those were crafted by Kano."

Stunned disbelief was the only thing Fëanaro was capable of after Nelyo had spoken, hardly believing it to be true. His eyes went from the gem back to Nelyo. "Kano...?"

"Yes, Atto. Kano made those." Nelyo assured him, sensing Fëanaro's rising shock. "They weren't gifts that he bought from the market or from Tirion. They were gifts he forged himself, working for hours at night in order to finish them. Remember those days where it was difficult to rouse Kano from sleep?" He rhetorically asked his Father.

Realization dawned over Fëanaro, as well as a surge of guilt. The Ellon never looked away from the gem. He knew exactly what Nelyo was talking about. There were so many days, three years ago, when Kano would never rise from his bed until after the sun had graced the skies with its light. Those were also days Fëanaro would force Kano out of bed and trek with him to the Forge in order to complete a new batch of projects or complete deliveries. Kano had been dead on his feet, but the minstrel had worked hard so that he wouldn't slow the others down. When they were finished, Kano always volunteered to clean up after them and would never return home until the moon had risen to its highest point in the sky.

To think that Kano was sacrificing his time and sleep in order to complete these gifts for his parents. He never once told them either. He didn't tell them that he had made the gem or that he had made the necklace Nerdanel fervently declared to be her favorite.

"It was because of that." Nelyo confirmed Fëanaro's thoughts.

Biting his lower lip, Fëanaro recognized the mistakes that he'd made and all that he had done to Makalaurë. His little Songbird... But, there was one question prominent in the powerful Ellon's mind.

How did Nelyo know this?

Raising his grey orbs, Fëanaro inquired, "How do you know about this, Nelyo? How is it that you know but neither Nerdanel or I did? Kano never said a word..."

Nelyo inhaled and exhaled deeply. "It was because I would watch after him on those nights. Kano is known to be a little clumsy with the tools and other equipment." He explained to his Father, the fires of the Forge making his red hair appear to be burning. "I would hide within the shadows while Kano worked on them, making sure he didn't harm himself. He did, multiple times. If you remember the week Kano was unable to play his harp because he'd injured his hand while mishandling his dagger?"

Fëanaro did. Makalaurë had arrived to the Dining Hall and joined his family in breaking their fast early one morning. It had been Nerdanel who had noticed the sling Makalaurë was wearing and trying to hide underneath his dark robe. His wife had immediately jumped out of her chair and rushed to him, carefully handling his other hand while demanding to know what Makalaurë had done to injure himself.

'It was a training incident, Ammë.' Makalaurë had claimed, brushing away his Mother's concerns with a soft smile. Now that he thought about it, Fëanaro could remember catching sight of the frown Nelyo had shot Makalaurë the moment he'd spoken. 'I utilized my dagger incorrectly.'

Nerdanel had looked skeptical. 'And that is why Nalara had it put into a sling?'

'It was a deep cut.' Makalaurë had told her. 'She didn't want me to use it, even for something as simple as playing my harp, and so, she did this.' He had looked genuinely upset by this and his explanation was enough to convince Nerdanel and himself.

'Oh, Makalaurë! It doesn't still pain you, does it?' Nerdanel had inquired, worriedly studying his bandaged hand. She delicately cradled it between both of her smaller ones, silently meeting Makalaurë's pained blue orbs.

'Not as much as it did before, Ammë." He'd assured her.

"He didn't cut himself, Atto." Nelyo broke into Fëanaro's thoughts. "The accident that gave Kano the injury occurred here, in the Forge, while he was working on your gift."

Fëanaro jerked his head up. "How? What happened?"

Nelyo indicated to some of the heavy equipment they used for crafting Elven blades and other weapons. It was covering one of the tables they used to make jewelry and chains for necklaces or bracelets. "He needed to find silver for Ammë's necklace and to craft your gem." Nelyo started to say, gently touching some of the silver that held the fused gems together. Fëanaro's eyes softened. "He couldn't find it anywhere and believed there might be some stuffed away behind the equipment." Fëanaro had a feeling he knew where this was going. "He found some after removing some of the heavy things out of his way but he didn't notice how unbalanced some of the equipment was. When he moved away, he accidentally bumped into the table."

"Oh Valar..." Fëanaro murmured, feeling as if he knew what had to have happened next.

"He didn't realize until it was too late..." Nelyo winced in remembrance. "Kano had bent down to pick up the silver he had dropped, and that was when he bumped the table. The anvil toppled over and crushed his hand before I could do anything."

Fëanaro's eyes slid shut when he cringed while Curvo, Moryo, and Tyelko's eyes grew large.

"That didn't stop him, though." Nelyo added with another sigh. "He kept going, every night, forcing himself to finish his gifts in time for the Winter Fest. and Ammë's begetting day. His injury put a setback in his plans, and so, he began working during his breaks. After two weeks, he removed the bandage to make it appear to have healed, but in actuality, it took six months."

Fëanaro listened to everything Nelyo was saying, deeply touched by Makalaurë's devotion. He worked, even though he was in plenty of pain, and Fëanaro never noticed. He had turned a blind eye to his second-born, and never once showed Kano that he was proud of any of his achievements. It was no wonder Makalaurë had broken down earlier. To think that he held it in for sixty years.

"Atto," Nelyo spoke up again, bringing Fëanaro out of his thoughts, "If you wish to speak with him..." he hesitated, as if he were about to reveal a big secret. "Then come with me." He cautiously eyed his Father, wondering if he should bring Fëanaro to Makalaurë. It did appear that Fëanaro was truly regretting everything, but would Makalaurë wish to speak with him? Perhaps... Kano could never hold a grudge against anyone for more than three seconds at most.

Fëanaro looked to his son hopefully, wishing to apologize to Makalaurë. "Show me where he is."

And Nelyo did.

They had arrived to find Makalaurë randomly plucking the strings of his harp in his secluded clearing in the woods. He was seated on a large boulder, overlooking a valley of colorful flowers, a far-away look in his eyes.

Of course, Nelyo had hidden himself in the shadows when Fëanaro had approached Makalaurë. He watched them interact, unable to hear the words they spoke, but he could tell from his Father's actions that Fëanaro was asking his son for forgiveness and reassuring him of something. Makalaurë looked relieved and soon enough, the two had reconciled. Fëanaro had crushed Makalaurë in one of his bear hugs and Makalaurë happily returned it, crying out indignantly when Fëanaro ruffled his neatly plaited hair.


~Duplicity~

Makalaurë and Nelyo had been close, their bond as brothers strengthened by whatever tribulations they went through and all that they would do together. But, Nolofinwë's eldest, Findekano, had grown to become a fine young Ellon. One Makalaurë hated to admit he was jealous of. Ever since Findekano had been little, Nelyo had given him his undivided attention. Makalaurë had learned early on never to bother Nelyo whenever Findekano would come for a visit with Nolofinwë. It was during these lonely days that Makalaurë would leave his Father's home and wander the wilds or travel to Tirion to stay with Finwë. Sometimes, Makalaurë would be spotted with Nolofinwë, conversing pleasantly about whatever subject came about.

It had upset Makalaurë more than he would admit when Findekano would, most of the time unintentionally, steal away Nelyo's attention and leave Makalaurë feeling abandoned and lonely. He never resented Findekano for it, but he was envious. It was an ugly emotion, Makalaurë knew, and he detested the fact that he would feel it whenever Findekano visited.

Today, Makalaurë had decided it would be safe for him to stay away from home for some time. Findekano and Nelyo had tried to invite him to come with them numerous times, but Makalaurë always declined. He hated feeling as if he were imposing on them, and he always felt awkward whenever he went with the two anywhere. They were constantly talking about whatever came to mind, bantering back and forth, and Makalaurë would silently watch them.

Whenever he could, he would slip away unnoticed and try to amuse himself by doing anything to take his mind off of it.

Today was one of those days. Nelyo and Findekano had left to go down to the market and his other brothers, Curvo, Tyelko, and Moryo were out hunting. That left Ambarto and Pityo with Makalaurë. He didn't mind. Ambarto and Pityo always made Makalaurë feel welcomed and included. For example, right now, the two year old Elflings were clutching his legs, their tiny feet on top of his booted ones, laughing brightly whenever they would be raised up into the air every time Makalaurë took a step. Makalaurë's melodious laughter mixed in with their own, the minstrel smiling fondly down at the Elflings. He didn't notice Nerdanel watching him from the balcony nearby, Anairë standing beside her. The two Elleths couldn't contain the smiles that stretched their lips widely whenever Ambarto and Pityo would shriek happily and tighten their grip on Makalaurë. Makalaurë was also enjoying himself, but Nerdanel could see the sadness brewing in his eyes.

She frowned, concerned whenever Makalaurë raised his head up to survey the gates of their home. He released a sigh before returning his attention to the Elflings, who had released him and were now running in circles around him, screeching and giggling hysterically. Makalaurë contentedly watched over them, making sure they stayed within the gates. Word had gotten around that wolves were causing merchants and travelers trouble on the road near his home and Tirion. It was unusual, but nothing any of the Elves were truly too concerned over. Still, Makalaurë was cautious. He knew Curvo, Tyelko, and Moryo were also investigating the increased attacks by these wolves, but had yet to find anything. They had killed many wolves while out on their hunts and had tracked down their homes, but found nothing abnormal about them. Only their behavior was off.

"Ka! Ka!"

Makalaurë shook his head and turned his head down to find Ambarto and Pityo staring up at him with large, pleading eyes, wringing their hands together. Makalaurë raised an eyebrow, dreading what was to come. He knew that look.

Crossing his arms, Makalaurë quietly inquired, "What do you want now?"

Ambarto and Pityo shot him identical puppy dog eyes, one that told Makalaurë that there was something they wanted and were going to do anything in order to get it.

"Ka..." Pityo began, shifting from one foot to the other, "Wanna mar." Ambarto nodded earnestly, pointing to the path that led from their home to the market in the city.

"You want to go to the market?" Makalaurë repeated, watching two heads excitedly bob up and down, the twins bouncing on the balls of their feet.

"Wanna cay!"

Raising both eyebrows at the little pests, Makalaurë parroted, "You want cake?"

"Ya!" Came the enthusiastic response. Four hands clutched his pants leg as two small faces tipped up to look at him. "Pweaze?! We be gud!" They promised.

"Hm..." Makalaurë hummed, unconvinced. They would be good? Who were they kidding? "I don't know, little ones..." He started to say, watching as their expressions crumbled and the twins glimpsed at one another. "Oh, now don't do that!" Makalaurë urged them, unable to handle the looks they were giving him. "Don't give me that look, Ambarussa!"

"Sowwy..." The twins apologized, crushed that they couldn't go to the market for cakes. The two had grabbed each other's hands, providing silent comfort.

Makalaurë pursed his lips together, trying his best not to give in. "Why didn't you ask Nelyo or Findekano to bring back cakes? They did go to the market."

"We nah up wif sun."

"Ah. You weren't awake in time to catch them, hm?"

The twins sadly nodded.

Makalaurë hummed again, watching the twins in the corner of his eye. They looked so heartbroken by the fact that they couldn't go. Biting his tongue, Makalaurë looked away and caught his mother's eye. Nerdanel was smiling knowingly, her eyes twinkling as she watched Makalaurë struggled against the twins' charms.

"Go." She mouthed to him, and Makalaurë furrowed his brow in question. Was it safe enough to take the twins to the market? With the increased activity of the wolves, Makalaurë didn't really want to risk getting attacked with two Elflings. Nerdanel waved her hands in the direction of the gate, nodding her head, silently telling him that it would be alright.

Makalaurë shrugged with an unsure expression, but did as his mother told him to. "Alright, you two," Makalaurë said, crouching down to their height, a difficult feat to accomplish for an Ellon of his height, "Tell you what,"

The twins rushed over at once, beaming eagerly. "Ka?"

The minstrel rolled his eyes at them. "I'll take you to the market," The twins cheered, dancing and spinning around with overwhelming joy. "But," Makalaurë added in a louder voice, snatching their attention. They slowly shuffled back towards him, wondering what else he had to say, "You will have to return home with Nelyo and Findekano."

"No Ka?" They asked, tilting their heads in confusion.

"No." Makalaurë shook his head. "I have something I need to do and I may be back late."

"Oh." The twins frowned severely, pondering over this. "Wan' Ka." They firmly declared.

"I'll be home later." He promised. "I'll be the first person you see in the morning."

Ambarto and Pityo reluctantly agreed to it. After all, they would be able to go to the market and get their cakes!

"Now, you must behave." Makalaurë stressed, standing and scooping the twins up with him. Ambarto and Pityo shrieked and laughed, hugging Makalaurë's neck.

"Luv wou!" The twins happily stated, resting their heads on his shoulders.

"Whatever you say."


It was late in the afternoon when Makalaurë and the twin arrived to the market. Thankfully, there had been no sign of wolves and the trip was peaceful. The first thing they did was head straight for the bakery and buy the twins the cake they had been wanting to get. Afterwards, Makalaurë and the twins entered the toy shop, where the minstrel bought some learning blocks for the twins. He also bought them some warrior figurines and a couple of horses to play with. The twins were ecstatic and thanked Makalaurë nonstop.

Everyone in the market wore smiles whenever they spotted Ambarto and Pityo dragging Makalaurë behind them, chattering excitedly and pointing at everything they found interesting or that they wanted to see. Makalaurë patiently listened to their incoherent blabbering, nodding whenever he knew he should and humming in an interested manner when they would wave their hands up and down, as if explaining something complicated to him.

Later that afternoon found Makalaurë wandering the marketplace in search of Nelyo and Findekano. Ambarto was on his shoulders and Pityo was being balanced with one arm while the other held the bag filled with the things they had bought. Ambarto scanned the crowds for their brother and cousin from where he was, searching for the familiar shade of red Nelyo was known for. "Ka! Ka!" Ambarto exclaimed, having caught sight of red moving through the crowd. "Nel! Nel!" He pointed in the direction he'd seen the red and Makalaurë swerved round in order to chase after it, hoping his brohters' shouting would catch Nelyo's attention.

He really did need to do something after handing the twins over to his brother.

Thankfully, Pityo's holler grasped Nelyo's attention, the Ellon having been buying a small bag of fruit from a nearby stand, and the Elf immediately headed their way, Findekano in tow.

"Makalaurë!" Findekano greeted. Makalaurë inclined his head in his direction, wisely choosing to keep his mouth shut.

"What are you doing here, Toron?" Nelyo asked, smiling.

That was another thing Makalaurë had noticed. Nelyo smiled a lot more whenever Findekano was around. It was no longer he who could bring out the charming smile Nelyo was also widely known for. Nelyo also laughed a lot more.

Over the past years, Nelyo had grown more bright while Makalaurë became grim and even more lonely. Music was his only constant companion.

He knew it must have been because he was different from the rest of his brothers. He wasn't as strong or courageous as Nelyo; wasn't as skilled as Tyelko was in hunting; wasn't as strategically intelligent as Moryo; and most certainly not as talented in forging as Curvo. They also surpassed him weaponry. Makalaurë was weak and could never bring himself to raise any type of weapon unless he needed to defend himself.

Even then, Makalaurë knew he would be unable to hold his own.

It was no wonder his brothers had lost interest in him and always let him be. He was the black sheep of the family. The only thing he was excelled in was music. Not that that mattered much. There were plenty of musicians all across Valinor who could entertain groups of Elves at Feasts and Festivals.

"The twins wanted cake." Was all Makalaurë offered as an explanation. "And now, you are going to take them home." He added, setting both twins in Nelyo's arms and stepping back.

Nelyo blinked, looking from one twin to the other before raising his gaze to look at Makalaurë. "I am?"

"Yes. I have something I need to do." Makalaurë sharply nodded, keeping his gaze on Nelyo. "I won't be home until late."

"We could stay with you." Nelyo suggested, tilting his head in Findekano's direction. Makalaurë shook his head. There was no way he would tag along with them. They'd only ignore him...

Sorrow gripped at his heart but Makalaurë kept his expression impassive. "No. It will be very late, and the twins need to go to bed."

"But, the wolves-"

"I can handle myself, Nelyo." Makalaurë grumbled, gripping his arm while averting his eyes to stare at the blacksmith's shop. "I'm not helpless, you know."

Nelyo closed his mouth, sharing a concerned glance with Findekano. Nelyo was a little disconcerted. His brother's behavior was most strange, and it only seemed to worsen over the years, but when he tried to talk to Makalaurë or spend time with him, Makalaurë would send him away, claiming that he needed to spend time with Findekano while he was here. And so, Nelyo let him be and did as Makalaurë told him to. He had sensed the sorrow and sudden change in his brother's demeanor occur nearly five years previous and had always wanted to know what had caused it, but his brother would only push him away when he tried to find out.

"I wasn't saying that you were, Kano."

Makalaurë seemed to flinch at the name and Nelyo frowned deeply.

"But you know the saying, safety in numbers." Nelyo continued. "I would rather you return home safely..."

"There haven't been any sightings for three weeks, Nelyo." Makalaurë muttered, stretching his arm in order to tug a stray hair from Pityo's eyes. Pityo yawned widely, snatching Makalaurë's hand.

"Ka ok?" Pityo tiredly questioned, worried that his brother might get hurt.

Makalaurë managed a weak smile. "I'll be fine. Remember," He tapped Pityo's nose, "I did promise that I would be the first one you see in the morning." Then why did he get the strange feeling that he would be unable to fulfill that promise?

"Pwomise?"

"I already said I promised."

"Kay...Home soon."

"Yes." Makalaurë gently agreed, tugging Pityo's small braid, grinning when Pityo snuggled closer to Nelyo. Ambarto had already fallen asleep, two fingers in his mouth as he slept, blissfully unaware of the outside world.

"Kano,"

Makalaurë refrained from flinching again. Kano may have been the childhood name Nelyo had given him, but it no longer felt special to him. Findekano's name also had Kano in it, and Makalaurë wouldn't be surprised if Findekano soon received the privilege of being named 'Kano' by Nelyo. Reluctantly, Makalaurë met his brother's gaze, silently asking him what he wanted.

Nelyo chewed on his lower lip for a moment, studying his younger brother, confused and concerned, but whatever he wanted to tell him went unsaid. "Be careful, then, Toron, and don't come home too late."

Makalaurë dipped his chin, telling Nelyo that he would do his best not to be delayed. Before Nelyo could say anything more, and before Findekano could bid him farewell, Makalaurë spun on his heel and left in a flurry of robes.

"Kano!" Nelyo called, trying to chase after him, but Makalaurë had already blended in with the crowd, vanishing from sight. He slowed to a stop, searching in vain for his brother. It was impossible. There were too many Elves bustling about the marketplace. With slumped shoulders, Nelyo breathed out Kano's name. "I don't understand..." He murmured under his breath, still searching the crowds for his brother. It was of no use. Makalaurë had disappeared.

Findekano stood behind him, troubled by what had transpired. "He's changed." He remarked aloud, giving Nelyo a sideways glance.

"Yes...He has." Nelyo agreed, knowing what his cousin meant. "I don't know what's wrong with him...He never says a word, and when I ask, he tells me he's fine or that it's nothing that should concern me."

"You don't believe him." Findekano more stated than questioned, recognizing the look Nelyo wore.

Nelyo shook his head, red hair slipping over his shoulders and tickling Ambarussa's cheeks. The twins sleepily slapped away the offending braids, snatching them when they refused to let them be. "When someone tells me that it is nothing I should be worried over, I know it is something that should concern me." Nelyo told Findekano. "Especially when that person is Makalaurë. He hardly says a word to me now. He doesn't even speak with our other brothers or Atto. Ammë barely sees him all day unless he helps her with her sculpting. Other than that, he's always gone."

"Where does he go?" Findekano asked, walking alongside Nelyo as the two headed for the entryway of the market. It was high time they returned to Fëanaro's home, especially now that they had the twins with them.

Nelyo shrugged as best he could, his arms full of twins. Findekano had kindly taken hold of the market bags, easing the burden, and for that, Nelyo was most grateful. "No one knows. He just leaves. I tried searching for him before, but I've never found him. Everyone is getting worried that it might be something serious. We don't know what to do. We don't want to chase him away by asking him too many questions, but we also don't want to leave him alone."

"Hm...I see." Findekano thoughtfully rubbed his chin, turning to look over his shoulder one last time before stepping through the gate. He thought he spotted Makalaurë heading for the Blacksmith's but dismissed the thought. Why would Makalaurë go to the Blacksmith's shop when his Father was one of the most renowned smiths in Valinor? If he had need of anything, Fëanaro would be able to help him.

Figuring that it was some other Ellon, Findekano returned his attention to the path before them. It was a long walk back to Fëanaro's home, but it was a pleasant one. The scenery was beautiful and the woods were peaceful. His only worry had to do with the wolves that were known to attack merchants and travelers. Yes, three weeks had passed since the last sighting had been reported, but one couldn't be too careful. There was also a storm coming. Along with the approaching storm, came the dreadful feeling that something terrible was going to happen that night. It was a feeling Findekano found he could not shake, and it started to worry him.


It was indeed late by the time Makalaurë was finished with the task he'd needed to be done. It wouldn't have taken so long if Makalaurë hadn't gotten carried away by the musicians playing in a nearby tavern. The music was just calling out to him, and Makalaurë felt drawn to the tavern because of it. He had remained there for the rest of their orchestral, enjoying the tiny philharmonic orchestra that was playing. They were a small band of musicians, but no less talented. The only thing he was surprised about was the size of the tavern.

Now, as he was walking down the path leading home, Makalaurë was beginning to regret going alone. It was dark, the moon having hidden itself behind the stormy clouds rolling in.

The forest looked eerie, with the trees casting frightening shadows on the ground whenever lightning would strike. The branches of said trees always looked to be clawing at him, attempting to snatch him and drag him back. The wind howled a haunting tune, clashing with the thunder that would shake the ground beneath his feet. Makalaurë had already slipped a couple of times in the mud, cursing the rain for having soaked it so much.

"I should have gone to the Inn." Makalaurë muttered to himself, rubbing his hands over his arms, trying to warm himself up. His long hair stuck to his face and his clothing clung to his skin. The rain had already chilled Maglor to the bone and his boots- Makalaurë was sure his boots were filling up with water. They felt heavy each time he took a step. It made it harder for him to raise his feet back up again. With the moon hidden, Makalaurë had no way of telling what time it was, but if he were to hazard a guess, he would have to say it was probably passed midnight.

The wind howled again.

"Hmph," Makalaurë gave a lopsided grin, listening as the wind continued it's frightening tune. "That sounded like a wolf."

When those words fled past his lips, Makalaurë came to an abrupt stop, the grin replaced by a troubled frown. Thinking over what he had said, Makalaurë wondered if, perhaps, the wind he'd heard howling hadn't been the wind at all.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, Makalaurë immediately banished it. "Impossible." He nervously assured himself, briskly walking forward, forcing one foot before the other. Flicking up the hood of his cloak, Makalaurë tried to ignore the wailing wind but his eyes were constantly roving his surroundings, taking in every detail. Anytime a bush rustled or the trees creaked, Makalaurë would jump and snap his head in its direction. "Quit, Kano. Stop. There is nothing there." He muttered, pressing onward. "Only a few more miles and you will be home again." He encouraged himself aloud. "You're only paranoid."

Was he too paranoid? Or was he not paranoid enough, Makalaurë distantly wondered.

He should've brought a horse. It would've been far easier than trekking through the forest. And less...scary.

He hated to admit it, but Makalaurë was feeling downright nervous about being alone...in the woods...in the middle of the night...unarmed...

"I k-knew I-I sh-should've br-brought so-somethin'" Makalaurë said, his teeth chattering. It wasn't only from the cold, but also from the chilling feeling overcoming him. Something was wrong.

He could sense it.

And he knew exactly what it was.

"Wolves." The moment he said it, Makalaurë was gone. Sprinting as fast as he could, the minstrel found that the howling wind he had been listening to had indeed been a pack of wolves nearest him. Streaking down the path, his feet pounding through the mud and disturbing puddles along the way, Makalaurë overheard another howl.

That one was too close for comfort.

Thunder boomed and lightning flashed, lighting up the entire forest, allowing Makalaurë to catch sight of his home a few miles away. Standing for only a few seconds atop the hill he had just climbed in record time, Makalaurë started pleading with the Valar to allow him to arrive home safely. He didn't know how to fight, or how to defend himself, and he certainly did not want to meet a pack of wolves in the middle of night. If there was one thing Makalaurë had feared ever since he was an elfling, it was wolves.

The reason why was because of something that had happened when he had turned fifteen. He was no taller than three feet and Nelyo was four inches short of six feet at the tender age of forty-five. To most Elves, Nelyo would be considered a child, or an adolescent, but he appeared much older because of his height. It was always shocking to Elves when they discovered Nelyo's true age. But Makalaurë found that he liked it. He felt much safer and protected whenever Nelyo was around. His big brother was strong and smart. Ever since he was an Elfling, Makalaurë had idolized his brother. Nelyo was everything he wished he could be, but never would be.

Then one day, tragedy struck the home of Fëanaro. It had been a long and dreary day, and Makalaurë had been waiting for Nelyo and his Father to return home from a trip to the market. Nelyo had promised to bring him his favorite treats and a batch of freshly baked honey cakes, but they were running late.

Late enough that Makalaurë had noticed and was growing worried. Even Nerdanel seemed a little unsettled, having sensed something off earlier.

It felt like forever until Makalaurë finally noticed something. Upon looking closer, he discovered it to be his Father riding at break-neck speed towards the home, cradling something in his arms. There was a look on Fëanaro's face that would forever be etched into Makalaurë's mind, for it was disturbing to see such a look grace the proud Fëanaro's features. It was a mixture of fear, determination, and dread.

There was another thing Makalaurë had noticed immediately.

The blood coating Fëanaro's riding tunic and the bloody figure in his arms.

Without hesitating, Makalaurë shot off to find his mother, urgently shouting for her to come.

It was his brother.

His brother was hurt. Badly.

That was the only thing running through his mind. Nerdanel, having heard his wild calls, had come dashing across the house to see what was wrong, only to find a teary-eyed fifteen year old crying over the fact that his brother was terribly hurt.

Nerdanel, understanding every word Makalaurë babbled to her, broke into a run to the courtyard, meeting Fëanaro right when he rode through the gates, shouting for a couple of Elves to shut them.

Makalaurë, having been forgotten by everyone there, watched as his Father dismounted his steed, still holding a limp and pale Nelyo and ordering for a message to be sent to the Healers. Nalara, who had been in the Courtyard at the time, had rushed to them, firmly telling Fëanaro to lower him to the ground so she could staunch some of the major bleeding. Fëanaro did as told, Nerdanel hovering over his shoulder with her hands pressed over her mouth and tears filling her dark green eyes.

Makalaurë wasn't paying any attention to them, however. He was watching Nelyo.

And Nelyo wasn't moving.

He wasn't doing anything.

And there was so much blood... So much blood stained his clothing and there were rips and tears in his shirt and pants, as if he'd been attacked by some vicious animal. The blood was pooling onto the ground underneath his brother and Makalaurë remembered having been shell-shocked, staring in absolute horror and fear as Nalara worked to stop the bleeding. Nelyo was so pale...His entire face was drained of color, almost grey, and for a split second, Makalaurë had thought his brother was dead.

Big, strong, and smart Nelyo.

His brother who was invincible in Makalaurë's eyes, was now lying here, possibly at death's door, vulnerable and weak.

Nelyo's eyes, which Makalaurë knew to be a warm blue color, were shut. Fëanaro was clutching Nelyo's hand in his own, pleading with Nelyo to open his eyes, to tell him that he was alright...but Nelyo never did.

Nerdanel was sobbing now, begging for the Valar to save her son. Makalaurë only stood there, unable to move. He couldn't.

He barely registered any of the words that were spoken by his parents or Nalara.

"...his pulse..."

"...wolves..."

"Pack...attack..."

Those few words were the only things Makalaurë did understand from their conversation, and he understood everything.

His brother and Father had been attacked by a pack of wolves and Nelyo had ended up being severely injured.

"He tried to warn me..." Fëanaro was saying, attempting to comfort Nerdanel while supporting Nelyo's head in his lap. "I didn't listen...He couldn't take them all..."

"Bleeding's slowing down, but he needs immediate care." Nalara's voice helped Makalaurë to shake himself from out of his daze, but it still didn't keep those ice-cold claws from suffocating his heart as he watched the Healers carefully place Nelyo onto a stretcher and carry him away.

He followed after them, wondering if this was all just a dream. He hoped that he would wake up and discover that it had all been a dream- that Nelyo was here, safe and sound, at home, with him.

But it wasn't.

For days, Makalaurë sat vigil beside Nelyo's bedside. Neither Nerdanel nor Fëanaro left Nelyo's side. Food was brought to them, but neither ate much, despite the Healers' urging. It had scared Makalaurë more than anyone, more than he, realized. Nelyo remained in a comatose state for days from the blood loss. They had been told that Nelyo would live, but the fear that had clutched their hearts remained.

Nearly a week had passed and there was still no change.

Infection after infection, from the wolves' filthy claws and rotten teeth, were cared for by the Healers.

Makalaurë would watch, as if hypnotized, as his brother suffered. Some nights, Nelyo would tremble and shake as if cold, and others, he would mumble incoherently and talk to things unseen by them. Those nights had shaken Makalaurë the most. He became traumatized.

Anytime he overheard the word 'wolf' or even spotted an image of one, he would panic.

A wolf.

A simple creature, had felled his brother. His big, strong, brother. Nelyo was possibly dying because of this dumb animal that had viciously attacked him.

Thankfully, after many tears and days filled with anxiety and pain, Nelyo awoke.

It had to be one of the most memorable moments of Makalaurë's entire life. He remembered, vividly, sitting on the bedside, holding Nelyo's hand whenever his big brother's face had morphed into one of pain. He had been quietly talking to Nelyo, his breath catching every once and a while as he did so. He told him how his day had gone, something new that he had learned, his favorite memories of Nelyo... Whatever came to mind. He would also sing, knowing all of Nelyo's favorite songs. Other times, when he was unable to bring himself to sing, he would hum.

Then he stopped, unable to take it any longer, and started to sob.

He had tried to retract his hand in order to wipe the tears away, but found that he was unable to. Nelyo's hand, which had been limp a few moments previous, had tightened its grip on his, refusing to let him go.

At first, Makalaurë believed it was only because Nelyo was in so much pain, but then he was proved incorrect.

The fifteen year old had pulled his hand away and slipped off of the bed, heading for the door. He couldn't handle it anymore. He needed time alone. He needed somewhere to go where he wouldn't be disturbed so that he could release some of the pent up emotions he'd kept hidden inside.

Right when Makalaurë had extended a hand to turn the doorknob, he thought he heard a small, breathy, whisper call out his name.

"...Ka...no..."

At first, Makalaurë had believed it to be a figment of his imagination, a cruel joke his mind was playing on him, and Makalaurë flung open the door, preparing to flee when another whisper, stronger than the last, carried over to him.

"Kano..."

With widening eyes, Makalaurë had slowly turned around, raising his head to face Nelyo.

Blue eyes met blue and Makalaurë found himself staring at Nelyo in disbelief.

For what felt like a long time, Makalaurë stood there, hand on the doorknob, holding Nelyo's gaze, as if wanting to prove to himself that this wasn't a dream. His brother was lying there, on the medical bed, with his eyes open...one of his hands reaching out towards him...

It had been the happiest moment of his entire life.

And the scariest.

It had shown him that Nelyo wasn't invincible. That something, as dumb as a wolf, could still take Nelyo away from him. It scared him more than anything. Suddenly, those monster stories told to him by the older Elves, weren't so frightening. He no longer quaked or ran to Nelyo or his parents because of them or because his imagination was playing tricks on him.

But say the word 'wolf,' and Makalaurë was out. Even now, Makalaurë hated to hear the word 'wolf.' He didn't react as terribly as he did when he was an elfling, but a shiver of fear would run down his spine and the minstrel would immediately try to take his mind off of the wolf. It was hard. He'd associated the word 'wolf' to those terrible memories. The pain he'd felt then had lessened over the years, as did the fear, but that didn't stop him from being afraid.

Nelyo had always been there for him. Whenever he needed comfort, protection, or company, he could always turn to Nelyo.

But not anymore. Everything had changed since Findekano had grown. Makalaurë was now alone, with no one to turn to. He dared not approach his Father, fearing that he would be rebuffed or looked down upon for his childish fears, and he never said anything to his Mother. He didn't want her to believe that he would be unable to protect her should he ever have need to. His brothers didn't know anything about his fear, and Makalaurë wanted it to stay that way. Only Nelyo knew. He knew because he'd seen how much this wolf attack had shaken him. For several nights, Nelyo had camped in Makalaurë's room, comforting him after a nightmare.

Every now and then, Makalaurë would have another nightmare of that horrifying week, and he would go straight to Nelyo, to ensure that his brother was safe and sound, and sometimes, Nelyo would be awake and offer him some words of comfort and hold him if that wasn't enough.

Sadly, Makalaurë couldn't do that anymore.

How he wished he had Nelyo with him now.

Makalaurë heaved a sigh. This was all stupid. Jealousy was such an ugly and unbecoming emotion to have, yet he couldn't help but feel it. He hated it. He hated that he even felt it! It felt wrong. He should be happy that Nelyo had found someone to confide in... He should be happy his brother had a best friend. One he could trust.

And if that was Findekano, then... Makalaurë would have to learn to live with it. He would remain by Nelyo's side, and support him, for as long as he drew breath.

Maybe, just maybe, he would find someone someday. Someone he could befriend and trust for the rest of his life. Someone he would never have to worry would ever leave him for someone better than he.


~Fëanaro's Home~

Lightning illuminated Nelyo's room, closely followed by a crash of thunder. The Ellon wasn't rudely awakened by the fierce storm, however, for he had yet to fall asleep. He couldn't bring himself to. He had been too busy thinking about his brother.

All of the thoughts cramming his mind had to do with Makalaurë.

Something was wrong with him, he could sense it. Something had changed in Makalaurë and Nelyo found that he didn't like this change. This wasn't Makalaurë. He missed his brother. He missed Makalaurë, and he knew his brothers and parents felt the same. The only ones who were capable of bringing out a little of the old Makalaurë were the twins. Makalaurë also held onto the twins, as if they were some sort of saving grace.

They hardly saw Makalaurë now. He was always gone, never to be seen for hours or days on end. Sometimes, he would leave to visit Finwë in Tirion for a few weeks, come back, then vanish again. No one knew why.

Their mother had been growing worried, unsettled by her Songbird's abnormal behavior. He would sit in her sculpting shop for a long while, often lending a hand whenever Nerdanel needed help, but that was the most she was ever able to interact with him now.

He never even came to family dinners.

Even Fëanaro was concerned. Their Father had started watching out for Makalaurë, keeping a close eyes on him ever since he stopped playing and singing for the family. He would strum on his harp every once in a while, but he no longer sang with it. He always seemed preoccupied or upset. His music testified to that, the songs dull and empty of any feeling. He was silent, only speaking when he needed to, but whenever he did, he went straight to the point and never said more than a few sentences. He was curt, quiet, and as stealthy as a shadow. There were times when Nelyo believed Makalaurë possessed the power to appear and disappear at will, for he would always materialize out of nowhere when everyone was least expecting it.

It would only worsen whenever Findekano would come-

Nelyo's eyes snapped open, the Ellon bolting upright in his bed when the thought struck him.

Was that it? Was it because of Findekano?

Now that he thought about it, it made sense. All of those times Makalaurë would brush Findekano off and give him the cold shoulder, Makalaurë slipping away unnoticed when he or Findekano would invite him to accompany them somewhere, his vacations to Andatar that coincided with the times Findekano visited...

Nelyo leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands. But why was that? What was it that Makalaurë held against Findekano? Today, in the market, Nelyo had suggested that he and Findekano would have waited for Makalaurë to finish whatever he'd needed to do, but Makalaurë had immediately declined, his gaze flickering over to Findekano with a gleam in his eye...

One that spoke of dislike and...

Jealousy?

Could it be...? Was Makalaurë jealous and upset with Findekano for something? Had...

Nelyo swallowed.

Had Findekano, perhaps, done something to Makalaurë that his little Kano had taken personally? Was that why Makalaurë had been avoiding him? Was he upset that Nelyo was good friends with Findekano because of that?

Casting aside his covers, Nelyo slipped out of his bed and made for his bedroom door, intent on discovering if this was what had been bothering Makalaurë for the past few years.

From what he knew, Makalaurë had been keeping everything to himself. He had been holding it within, and that was a dangerous thing to do.

The only question Nelyo had was why Makalaurë hadn't come to him. Why hadn't Makalaurë sought him out if anything had happened?

Before Nelyo could even leave his room, the door opened and two tiny figures shuffled inside, their small feet hardly making a sound.

Nelyo blinked, staring down at the twins inquisitively. What were they doing here?

"Ambarussa?"

"Nel..." Ambarussa chimed, raising their heads to give Nelyo a frightened look. "Scawy sto'm." They whimpered and flinched violently when a loud crack of thunder echoed through the sky.

Nelyo kindly smiled down to them, crouching lowly and scooping them up into his arms. Ambarto and Pityo clung to him, trembling in barely suppressed fear and burying their faces in his shoulder. "Why aren't you with Kano, Ambarussa?"

It was a valid question. Normally, during storms such as these, Ambarto and Pityo would seek comfort from Makalaurë. The twins could always be found snuggled up beside the minstrel after severe storms, content and sleeping peacefully while tucked against his side. So, why hadn't they gone to Kano? Why come to him?

"No home." Pityo answered, gasping when a bright flash of lightning filled the room and the thunder boomed in response. Ambarto inhaled sharply, tightening his grip on Nelyo's nightshirt.

"What?"

"Ka no home." Ambarto said for his brother, releasing a tiny shriek of alarm when the thunder bellowed once more.

It only took a second for the twins words to seep into Nelyo's mind, and when they did, the Ellon had left his room and burst into Kano's.

An empty room greeted Nelyo from where he stood in the doorway. The bed was still neatly made, no sign of Makalaurë ever having slept in it that night and there was no minstrel anywhere.

"Kano?" Nelyo called, making sure Makalaurë wasn't in his room.

No voice answered his call, only silence.

"See," Pityo piped up again, gesturing to the room, "No home."

"Yes..." Nelyo slowly agreed, his mind whirling with panicked thoughts. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Why wasn't Kano here?

Makalaurë had said he would be home late that night, and he usually kept his word, but if Makalaurë still wasn't home and it was past two in the morning...

Nelyo made a split second decision and rushed into Curvo's chambers. "Curvo!"

His powerful voice jerked the second to youngest son of Fëanaro awake. "What the-?! What?! Something happen? Nelyo?" Curvo sputtered, shooting into a sitting position in his bed, turning his head to face his elder brother. "What's wrong?" He concernedly asked, catching the expression Nelyo wore when the storm's lightning lit up his room. He also noticed that Nelyo held the twins and that they looked quite scared. "What is it?" Curvo demanded to know, untangling himself from his sheets and getting out of bed, his worry rising when Nelyo basically shoved the twins into his arms, hardly offering him any explanation for his rush.

"Watch over the twins. I'm leaving."

"What?" Curvo asked, utterly lost. He chased after Nelyo when his brother strode out of his room, heading straight for Tyelko's. "Nelyo! What are you doing? What's going on?"

"I'll explain later," Nelyo curtly replied, pushing open Tyelko's door, "Right now, take care of the twins. Tyelko! Get up!"

Tyelko's reaction to having been woken so abruptly was similar to Curvo's, only less...refined. The golden-haired Ellon had been terribly startled and tumbled out of his bed onto the cold, hard, floor.

"Ai! Varda's name, Nelyo! What is wrong with you?!" The hunter exclaimed, rubbing his arm, shooting Nelyo a dark glare.

"Get dressed, and bring your bow." Nelyo ordered, turning sharply and leaving the room.

"What?" Tyelko hissed out through clenched teeth, pained. Looking to Curvo, Tyelko raised an eyebrow in question, hoping his younger brother may have the answers he was searching for.

There was no such luck. The only thing he received was a confused shrug and Curvo telling him to hurry and do as Nelyo had ordered. Tyelko wasted no time in doing so.

When he had dressed and entered the hall to find Nelyo, he discovered that Nelyo had awoken Moryo and had also commanded that he get dressed and bring his sword. Moryo appeared just as lost as Tyelko and Curvo was, and as nervous.

Their brother had that look in his eyes, the one that told them that something was seriously wrong.

Something had to be terribly wrong if Nelyo had ordered them to bring their weapons.

But, Tyelko distantly wondered, searching the corridors of their home, where was Makalaurë? Why hadn't Nelyo gotten him up?

"Nelyo, what's going on?" Curvo finally asked, tired of Nelyo deflecting his questions. "What's wrong?"

"That's something I would also like to no, Nelyo." Moryo muttered darkly, clearly having not appreciated being rudely awakened in two in the morning. "What has gotten into you?"

Nelyo, who had his back turned to them, exhaled deeply. "Makalaurë's gone."

This had an immediate response.

"What?"

Three voices lowly demanded. Moryo stepped forward, his expression fierce. "What do you mean, gone?"

"He never came home last night."

The three brothers shared a look, Tyelko's knuckles turning white from gripping his bow too tightly. "Say he decided to stay at an inn?" Curvo pointed out, a little hopefully. He didn't want to suddenly jump to the conclusion that Makalaurë may have been in any danger.

"No. Makalaurë walked. I know he did, and he must've run into trouble." The way Nelyo had spoken, the tone he'd used, told the brothers that Nelyo knew something they didn't.

"What is it, Nelyo?" Tyelko inquired, stepping closer to him.

"What did you find while out hunting this morning?" Nelyo asked in return, rotating round to face them. His gaze was severe, ordering his brothers to tell him the truth about their hunt. He knew his brothers had discovered something important, and he needed to tell them if what he suspected was true.

Tyelko, Curvo, and Moryo nervously looked to one another. "The wolves have been getting more active...we found a couple of their lairs. They were abandoned, but had recently been used by a large pack." Curvo answered, breaking the uneasy silence that had settled over them. "We suspected that they would probably begin attacking soon, now that their numbers had grown. The last three weeks had to be the wolves taking a break since so many of their kind had been slain by our hunters."

After he'd finished speaking, dread overcame them. "You don't think..."

"No..." Tyelko breathed out in disbelief, eyes sliding shut. "Idiot!" He growled, earning a few bewildered glances.

"Tyelko?" Moryo tapped his arm in question, Nelyo turning and striding towards him.

"What is it, Tyelko?" Nelyo wanted to know.

"Earlier today, in the evening, before the storm hit," Tyelko began, running a hand down his face, "I thought I'd heard wolves howling, but I dismissed it as being the wind. Nelyo," He raised his head, a serious expression etched into his features, "I know it wasn't the wind." He worriedly admitted.

Nelyo pursed his lips together. "I thought the same." He muttered angrily, fingers curling tightly into a fist. "While Findekano and I were walking home from the market, I had thought I overheard a wolf howling..."

Moryo shot forward, grabbing Nelyo's arm, "We have to go now, Nelyo! If Makalaurë is out there, and those wolves are out there...He doesn't stand a chance! Those wolves are starving. They haven't eaten in days! They're wild." The dark Elf quickly said, a sharp blast of fear surging through him as he thought about the possibility that his elder brother was out in the storm, with a pack of wolves hunting him down...

If they hadn't already.

"Nelyo!" A new voice called to them, and the brothers turned to see Findekano jogging towards them, dressed and with Elven knives strapped on his back. He panted lightly, clearly have run the entire distance between the Guest chambers to the Family Corridor. "I sensed something amiss, and I know it has something to do with Makalaurë." He informed them, studying the fearful expressions gracing each of their faces. "I came to accompany you in your search for him."

Nelyo curtly nodded. "We could use all of the help we can get."

"What are we waiting for, then?" Tyelko bolted away. "Let's go!"

Moryo and Nelyo didn't need to be told twice. They ran after him, with Findekano in tow, leaving Curvo to comfort the twins. The young Elf bent down and drew Ambarto and Pityo close to him, offering them whatever comfort he could provide. As much as he wanted to go after his brothers, to find Makalaurë, he knew someone needed to stay with the twins.

The only thing he was worried about, was the possibility that they were already too late.

Images of a bloodied and lethally wounded, or dead, Makalaurë filled Curvo's mind, causing his fear to spike up another few notches. The other worry was how they would break the news to their parents...

"Please, Eru, let them find Makalaurë safe..."


~Duplicity~

Okay, so this is a loooooong chapter. I figured giving some events from Maglor's childhood might be interesting, so I wrote a few things. The next chapter will include a few more events from Maglor's past then continue on to the actual story. I hope you don't mind :)
I'm already working on the next chapter, so it should be up soon!