As promised, here is the next chapter! I really don't like my style of writing, but I hope it's alright for you guys. I've always wanted to write a story like this, because I didn't like the fact that Maglor suffered so much from something as dumb as the Silmarils. It always seemed unfair to me, and I loved Maglor's character, even though I never read the Silmarillion. I know I've made a bunch of mistakes, and I'm sorry. I still haven't gotten far into the book...and I really should start reading it. Hopefully, you'll still enjoy this story!
Please, if you find any mistakes, tell me! And don't be afraid to leave any constructive criticism. It helps a bunch!


~Maglor's Past~

~The woods~

"Nelyo!" Tyelko shouted over the screeching wind, sloshing through the mud in an attempt to keep up with Nelyo's determined pace. "What do we do? How do we find Makalaurë?!"

Nelyo didn't stop moving, forcing his brothers and Findekano to fight to keep up.

Findekano was a little ways behind them, leading a horse by its reins through the muddy path. He had thought it would be a good idea to bring one just in case they needed an emergency transport for Makalaurë, which, he figured, they would most definitely need. Judging from the feeling that he had...Findekano just knew that Makalaurë would have to be rushed back to Fëanaro's home in order to be treated.

"We keep going down the path!" Nelyo hollered back. "There's only one path that leads to and from the market! Makalaurë must be somewhere on it!"

"Should we split up and search!?"

"NO!" Nelyo instantly barked back. He wouldn't take that chance. There was a possibility he could lose one of them to the wolves, and that was one chance Nelyo wasn't willing to take. "It's too dangerous! We don't know how many wolves are out here or where they can be! We need to stick together!" He loudly called in return, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the heavy rain. His cloak and clothing were already soaked, but Nelyo didn't allow that to slow him down. He continued, because he knew Makalaurë needed him, and he wasn't going to let Makalaurë down.

Tyelko ran ahead of him, sharp eyes roving the ground for any tracks. He stopped a few meters ahead of Nelyo, quickly bending down and running a hand over the muddy ground.

"Makalaurë never made it this far... The rain makes it difficult to tell, since it washed away most of the tracks, but the path is muddy enough that if anyone or anything passed through, it would leave a faint mark." He said aloud, briefly meeting Nelyo's gaze. "There are none."

Nelyo sharply nodded, thankful that he had brought Tyelko along, and continued down the path. Findekano jogged beside him, after making sure that his steed would stay where it was. "I brought a couple of lanterns, in case we find him, but I do not think it wise to use them now."

"Nay," Nelyo agreed, "It would only attract attention. And if what Moryo claims about the wolves is true, we don't want to take any risks in being discovered by their pack." His heart pounded against his chest while he spoke. Nelyo continuously searched for anything that might help them find Makalaurë, or at least give a clue as to where he might be.

He knew about Makalaurë's fear of wolves, and that was another thing that pushed Nelyo to try harder. He didn't know how Makalaurë would react should he run into a wolf. Would he freeze up, terrified by the fact that there was a wolf, or, would he try to run? Would he try to fight it? Maybe, just maybe, Makalaurë was still safe and unharmed. It was unlikely, but Nelyo wanted to believe that Makalaurë was fine- that he was only hiding from the wolves.

His hopes were crushed by the sound of approaching footsteps.

Several footsteps.

Tyelko had already whipped out his bow, an arrow notched on the drawn back string. Letting his arrow loose, Tyelko cried out, "Wolves!"

A yelp confirmed his cry, and a wolf pierced with an arrow, fell heavily on the ground a few feet in front of them.

Another wolf leaped high into the air, jaw agape, sailing towards Nelyo. Metal swiped through the air as Nelyo unsheathed his blade and slashed through the starving wolf. The wolf was dead in an instant, it's body crashing into a tree meters away. Moryo and Findekano whipped out their own blades, attacking the other wolves that came charging towards them.

"Circle round!" Nelyo ordered over the sounds of snapping teeth and savage growls. Moryo stepped back to stand behind Nelyo, Tyelko and Findekano to his left and right, and the horse in the center. The Elves kept their eyes sharp, the lightning aiding them in discovering the wolves location and fought in sync, each watching the other's back. They made sure the wolves couldn't break through their circle and attack the horse.

Thankfully, Findekano's steed was trained to protect his master and was fiercely loyal to him. Said horse was already angrily snorting at the wolves and stomping his hooves into the ground as a warning. If any wolf dared come near him or injure his Master, they would pay.

"Tyelko! To your left!" Moryo shouted, relieved when Tyelko dodged a wolf lunging towards him. With quick movements, Tyelko whipped back around and stabbed through its skull with a sharp arrow.

The wolf died instantly.

"Your right, Moryo!"

Moryo gracefully spun underneath another wolf, slicing its stomach while doing so. Findekano easily kept up with the wolves, his sword whipping from side to side, effortlessly cutting down the hungry wolves. He heard the sound of bones crunching and snapping when his steed trampled one wolf to death and kicked another.

Pained yips and yelps filled the air as the wolves were cut down, or beaten down, one by one.

Nelyo cut through the incoming pack without breaking a sweat, scowling darkly. If these wolves had done anything to Makalaurë, he would make sure they paid in full.

"AI! Cursed beast!" Nelyo overheard Moryo exclaim, pain lacing the words he spoke when a wolf managed to pass through his defenses and claw his arm.

"Moryo?"

"I'm fine, Nelyo!" Moryo snapped, his pain making his tone sharper than intended. "Stupid creatures!" He lashed out, cutting one wolf's leg off and stabbing it through the head when it fell. With a dark scowl, Moryo switched his attention to the next wolf, daring it to move.

It did, but it was too late for it to turn tail and run when it realized it's mistake the moment Moryo ran it through with his blade.

Findekano grunted when a wolf scraped its claws down his arm, grimacing from the sharp, momentary, pain it had caused. "There are too many!" He called out, barely dodging another wolf threatening to bite his hand off.

His horse took care of that one.

Nelyo's lips thinned, his expression darkening as he took in how many wolves were left. "There are only a few more!"

He encouraged his brothers and Findekano to hold their ground, allowing the wolves to come to them. The wolves were dumb enough to do so and were efficiently cut down by the four Elves. Neither of them moved even an inch out of the circle, and when one moved, the others shifted in order to accommodate the movement.

Swords sang as they were swung through the air, the Elves skillfully slaying the creatures without a second thought.

Once through, the Elves remained in their circle formation for a moment longer, waiting to see if there were any other wolves lingering in the darkness.

Nothing.

"Tyelko," Nelyo broke the tense silence, "Shoot an arrow between those trees." He commanded, pointing his sword in three different direction.

"Got it." Raising his bow and notching an arrow, Tyelko waited a split second then fired. The arrow whistled as it flew through the air, followed by two others.

Nothing happened.

Nelyo didn't drop his guard just yet, eyes surveying the woods surrounding them. It was a bit difficult to see, even with their Elven sight, since the trees practically blocked most of the light the storm provided. "Findekano, would you light the lanterns you brought?"

"Of course." Findekano set to doing his task immediately, lighting up the lanterns as fast as he could.

An eerie golden glow emitted from the lanterns, lighting up everything around them. The Elves squinted against the sudden brightness, taking a moment to adjust their eyesight. The woods looked far creepier than they had before, they found, feeling a little uneasy.

"Right. Makalaurë must be somewhere nearby." Nelyo uttered softly, a tinge of fear seeping into his voice. It was barely noticeable, but all of the Elves heard it. The tall red-head started walking down the path, in the hopes of finding Makalaurë. He couldn't be too far from them now.

He was stopped when Moryo called out to him.

"Nelyo!" The dark Elf hesitated for a moment, then slowly said, "You may want to see this."

A little nervous, Nelyo turned back around to find Moryo crouched beside one of the fallen wolves, studying the corpse with dark eyes. He was tense and a little fearful, telling Nelyo that whatever he had found wasn't good.

"What is it?" Nelyo inquired, striding over to where his brother was. Peering over Moryo's shoulder, he found a long, shaky cut marring the wolf's side. A cut made by an Elven dagger. "What of it?" Nelyo asked his brother. Why would Moryo call him over to study the wolf's injury? It was clearly slain by one of their own.

Unless...

Moryo's eyes flickered up to meet Nelyo's. "Nelyo, this wolf was already injured before I killed it. I noticed the limp it had when it attacked..."

Nelyo's heart began to sink when he slowly started to understand what Moryo was saying.

"That wound wasn't given to the wolf by any of us..." Moryo finished, his voice low and foreboding.

"Makalaurë." Tyelko breathed in horror. "Stars above..."

"No..." Nelyo shook his head, and without thinking, spun around and bolted down the path. He needed to find Makalaurë. He needed to know if Makalaurë was alive. He couldn't be dead! It was impossible! These wolves couldn't have taken Makalaurë from them. His brother couldn't have fallen.

Fears of what he might find started to fill Nelyo's mind as he ran, never pausing to take a break and catch his breath.

The three other Elves chased after him, with Findekano and Tyelko holding the lanterns and Findekano's horse galloping beside his master. They didn't know what to expect, but Moryo was beginning to believe that they were going to find a bloodied Makalaurë who was too wounded to live or who was already dead.

No one would have been able to fight off all of those wolves. Even when Moryo and his two other brothers fought a pack of wolves, it was difficult. They would barely escape unscathed. What condition would Makalaurë be in when they found him? Would he have already breathed his last breath? Would he still be alive?

Unable to shake these morbid thoughts from his mind, Moryo forced himself to run faster. If his brother was dying... Moryo wanted to be with him. He didn't want his brother to die alone or without saying some of the things he'd always wanted to tell his elder brother but never could bring himself to. It just wasn't him. He could never tell his brothers or parents that he loved them, or compliment them whenever they did something amazing. It wasn't in his nature. He was a dark, brooding Elf who enjoyed keeping things to himself. He wasn't outgoing, wasn't as bright as his brothers, but Moryo didn't care. He still loved his brothers and would do anything for them. He had always wanted to protect them when he was an Elfling...

Yet, he'd been unable to protect Makalaurë. He had always hoped that if his brothers ever needed help that he could be there. Moryo may never show it, but he wanted to know if Elves were ever grateful for him; if they accepted him. Mostly his brothers and parents. He wanted to know if they appreciated him for everything he was and if they loved him despite how he was.

He knew his brothers didn't know this, and that was why hearing them compliment him or letting him know that he was appreciated and cared for was special to him. He never smiled whenever they did, but he hoped they knew. He hoped they could see. He didn't understand how his brothers could accept him for who he was, but they did. It was why Moryo always wanted to be there for them.

But, he'd failed Makalaurë. All of these years Makalaurë had been there for him and this was how he repaid him. He'd let him down. He wasn't there when Makalaurë may have needed him most.

'Please, Valar,' Moryo found himself praying, 'Spare Makalaurë. Let him yet live.'


Findekano didn't know how long they had been running, but he knew it couldn't have been for long. Being the slowest of the four, Findekano lagged behind a little. Thankfully, he never lost sight of Tyelko or Moryo. His horse remained by his side, never moving any faster than he was.

He could tell how determined Moryo and Tyelko were in finding their brother, and how scared. Findekano recognized the look of fear dancing behind their eyes. It was the same fear he had seen in his own Father's eyes when Turukano fell down a flight of stairs and knocked himself out for three days. It was also the same fear that his Father would show whenever Irissë had gone missing in the marketplace in Tirion. This fear, though, was also a little different.

It was a fear of the unknown.

The brothers didn't know if Makalaurë still lived or what condition he would be in, and Findekano found that he was also afraid. He may not know Makalaurë all too well, but when he was an Elfling, he had respected the minstrel greatly. Makalaurë had always been kind to him...and then he changed. He wasn't the Makalaurë he once knew, and Findekano didn't know what had caused that change. He knew it upset Nelyo greatly, seeing as he had once been close to Makalaurë. There wasn't a day that passed when Findekano visited in which Nelyo didn't talk about his brothers -mostly Makalaurë- or ramble on about some of the accomplishments they'd made. Findekano always enjoyed listening to Nelyo whenever he would talk about his brothers since he never did get much of an opportunity to befriend them. Nelyo deeply cared for all of his brothers and always brightened whenever he talked about them. He would talk about all of the fun and chaos the brothers would wreak about the house and how they always drove their parents crazy with the stunts they would pull.

He would talk about his and Makalaurë's elflinghood and how Makalaurë had helped him through a lot. Not many Elves knew about Nelyo's insecurities whenever he was an Elfling, or how lonely he would feel, even when he was surrounded by a bunch of other Elflings his age or older. He was different because of his height and intellect. Makalaurë was always the one who put Nelyo at ease with his worries. He gave Nelyo the company he'd been seeking, had been there even when Nelyo believed he didn't want anyone around, and provided him with silent comfort, all the while oblivious to the fact that he was helping Nelyo immensely. He had accepted and adored his elder brother for who and how he was.

Findekano recalled the times Nolofinwë would speak about Nelyo and Makalaurë. He had said that their bond as brothers was the strongest he'd ever seen. Makalaurë had been attached to Nelyo ever since he was an infant and whenever he wanted someone, it was always Nelyo. They had been close, helping one another through difficult times and being there when they knew one needed comfort...

But, now, that was gone.

Makalaurë no longer sought out Nelyo or stuck with him. Findekano knew that it had hit Nelyo hard when Makalaurë started to drift further away from him and withdraw into himself. He barely spoke now, unless he had something he needed to say. He was hardly ever seen as well. Nelyo had started to think that it had something to do with himself, but couldn't figure out what he could have possibly done. Findekano had tried assuring him that he'd done nothing wrong, but Nelyo couldn't accept that. He had to have done something for Makalaurë to be acting this way. Findekano himself was at a loss. He could see the change in Makalaurë. He could see how this change affected the family, especially the brothers. There seemed to be an imbalance between them now, and none of them were coping with it.

Valar, if Makalaurë were to die tonight...how would that affect them?

It would destroy Nelyo and the brothers if they were to lose him. Makalaurë was like their rock, the foundation they built themselves off of, just like Nelyo was their protector and their leader. He was what tied the brothers together, Findekano knew. He always seemed to balance things out. He encouraged them no matter what, accepted them for who they were, and, most of all, he believed in them. The brothers had a deep respect to him and constantly turned to him whenever they had any trouble.

Findekano remembered a time from when he was a tiny Elfling and had failed one of the big tests his tutor had given him. He couldn't understand how and had felt terribly ashamed of himself. As an Elfling, this was a horrid ordeal, and of course, he had blown the entire thing out of proportion. Unable to accept his failure, Findekano had broken down in the gardens and cried. Makalaurë, who had been visiting Finwë with his family, had been the one to find him. The minstrel had patiently listened to the Elfling's over dramatic rant about how he was a failure and a disappointment to his Father all because he had flunked a test. Once he was through, Findekano had been exhausted and Makalaurë started to tell him about how he wasn't a failure; that if he put his mind to it, he could accomplish anything. He had reassured Findekano that his Father would still love him even though he had failed and that he was still proud of him. He had even gone out of his way to help Findekano to study for the test again, helping him to understand what he didn't before.

It was a small thing, but to Findekano, it meant a lot. Makalaurë had helped him to believe in himself and had spent hours studying with Findekano when he could have just gone and left him to figure it out on his own. It was one of the reasons Findekano had grown to become more confident in himself and his abilities. He no longer allowed any of his failures to drag him down. It made him work harder, all because of those simple words Makalaurë had spoken to him decades prior.

He wondered if Makalaurë remembered that day.

Would he be given an opportunity to thank Makalaurë?

Oh, he did so hope they found Makalaurë alive.

It was Nelyo's cry that snapped Findekano from his thoughts and the eldest son of Nolofinwë jerked his head up in alarm.

"Makalaurë!"

He skidded to a stop just before running into Moryo's back. Looking from Tyelko to Moryo, Findekano caught sight of the horrified look gracing their features. Slowly, a little fearfully, Findekano moved his gaze from the brothers to look ahead of them. What was he going to see? Would he catch sight of Makalaurë's bloodied body lying, abandoned, in the mud? Would he see how badly wounded Makalaurë was because of the wolves?

What he found made Findekano's stomach twist and turn, and nearly become sick.

There was blood staining the path- a lot of blood- and pieces of torn fabric here and there. There were nine dead wolves lying about, and Findekano felt faint surprise at the fact that Makalaurë had been able to take down that many despite being greatly outnumbered and with only a dagger as a weapon. If he remembered correctly, Makalaurë was no warrior. He didn't train with the sword or bow like his brothers and that was why he only knew how to wield a dagger.

To think he'd felled this many with nothing but a dagger.

What made Findekano's heart clench was the sight of Nelyo fallen to his knees in the muddy ground, shakily clutching a familiar, blood-stained, dagger in his hands. The look in his eyes and the utter grief and fear that Nelyo didn't bother to hide broke Findekano's heart. Moryo and Tyelko had similar expressions marring their features, recognizing the signs of battle and the struggle Makalaurë had had fighting against the wolves.

There was no sign of Makalaurë anywhere.

Nelyo, near-panic and in denial, frantically scoured the area around them. "Tyelko, Moryo," Nelyo's voice was weak and he forced it to be stronger. Tyelko and Moryo slowly, as if in a daze, looked to him. There was hope shining in their eyes, but that hope was slowly drifting away. "Find him...Find Makalaurë."

They barely managed a nod, Moryo heading to Findekano's right and Tyelko to his left. Their movements were slow, almost forced, as if they were afraid of what they might find.

"He...He has to be here..." Findekano heard Nelyo whisper to himself, eyes darting about. "Somewhere..."

He felt great sadness overtake him as he joined the search, moving past Nelyo to see what he could find. It didn't take him long to notice something odd near the edge of the path. The mud had been swept away, almost as if something had been dragged across and into the woods.

His heart sank, his fingers brushing along the ground, following the tracks. He wasn't a skilled tracker or hunter, but he knew what those marks in the mud meant.

"They took him."

Findekano flinched violently when he heard Nelyo speak. Craning his neck, Findekano found Nelyo standing just behind him, the lanterns casting his face in the shadows so that he couldn't see the look on his face, but his hands trembled and his body quaked.

Findekano sensed the anguish and pain the brothers were feeling. The complete and utter sorrow that gripped their hearts.

Moryo released a guttural cry, casting down his blade and grasping a handful of wet hair in his hands, bowing his head so that no one could see the tears streaming down his face.

He had failed, just as he had feared.

Tyelko was too stunned to move or even make a sound. He blinked, as if he were unable to understand or wrap his mind around this. He had loosened his hold on his bow, eyes open but unseeing.

Findekano wasn't sure how Nelyo was feeling. It was difficult to tell from the blank look that he wore.

"He has to be alive..." Moryo mumbled to himself. "He can't be gone...He can't be..."

No one said anything.

Findekano watched as Tyelko reached out to Moryo, embracing his brother tightly. Moryo dropped his head against Tyelko's shoulder, slumping against his brother as he tried to make sense of the fact that Makalaurë was most likely dead.

Nelyo sluggishly made his way towards them, Fëanaro's eldest gathering both of them in his arms. Tyelko and Moryo clung to him, fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic as they valiantly fought back tears.

Findekano squeezed his own shut, looking away. They had come all this way in the hopes of finding Makalaurë, only to find that he was no longer there. He was gone.

Bowing his head, Findekano murmured a small prayer beneath his breath, resting a hand over his heart. His greatest fear had come to pass.

"He's not dead..." Moryo mumbled, voice muffled by Nelyo's tunic. Nelyo tightened his grip on his brother, understanding how Moryo felt, for he felt the same way. He couldn't accept that Makalaurë was gone. "He's not...I know he's not!"

"Moryo," Tyelko softly uttered, reaching out to his brother, but Moryo shoved himself away.

"No! Don't 'Moryo' me!" The dark Elf hissed, pointing a threatening finger towards his brother. "I know he's not! He can't be! He's still out there, we just need to find him!"

"Moryo," Nelyo quietly spoke, gently grabbing hold of his younger brother's arm, "If we do find him...we don't know..."

"You think I don't understand that?" Moryo growled. "You think I haven't thought about it either? How Makalaurë might look? If he's near death or maybe that he's dead? I know!" He breathed harshly, running his fingers through his wet hair as he tried to calm himself. "And if that's the case, I want to be with him! I have to...I have to see him."

Nelyo calmly studied Moryo, seeing the determination blazing in his dark eyes. They wouldn't be able to talk him out of this.

"But I know he's alive! If he'd died, we would've felt it!"

Nelyo and Tyelko started slightly. It was true...Their bond as brothers was stronger than any other, that if one of them fled to the Halls of Mandos, the others would have felt it.

Why hadn't they thought of that before? They had been fretting over the fact that Makalaurë was probably dead, or near-death that they had completely forgotten about their bond.

Tyelko immediately turned to Nelyo, conviction dancing within his own blue orbs. "We have to find him, Nelyo. Moryo's right, I can sense Makalaurë still lives."

Findekano felt hope grow within him. Perhaps there was still time.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Moryo demanded to know. "We need to find him! Now!"

He needn't say another word, for the brothers were now off scouting the area, searching for any signs or tracks that might tell them where Makalaurë was. Findekano joined the search without hesitation, keeping the lamp raised high before him in order to see the muddy ground.

There were so many wolf tracks, but if he looked closely, he could see the light footprints he knew to be Makalaurë's. So, he battled the wolves here.

Tyelko studiously analyzed the path, creeping forward or shuffling backwards as he followed whatever tracks he'd found. Moryo, who held the second lamp, wandered into the forest surroundings them, stalking forward a few meters before doubling back and setting off in another direction, frowning deeply.

Nelyo had moved further ahead of them, checking to see if Makalaurë had, perhaps, fled in the direction of the market. The only footprints he found, however, were facing his direction, meaning Makalaurë had never turned back. Or never had the chance to.

"I don't understand." Tyelko muttered, just loud enough for them to hear. The brothers and Findekano looked to find him crouched down on the edge of the path, scratching the back of his head in confusion. "The tracks lead here and then vanish."

"Vanish?" Nelyo repeated, his brow crinkling as he moved to see what his brother was talking about.

"Look," Tyelko backtracked a few steps, pressing one of his fingers into the mud beside a small print the shape of a boot. "Makalaurë was here, and then," He sidled forwards a few inches, "He goes here," and closer to the edge Tyelko shifted, pointing out every one of Makalaurë's footprints he managed to spot with his sharp eyes. "but then, as soon as you reach here, they're gone." He finished, bewildered, extending his arms in the direction of the trees in front of them.

Nelyo bit his lip. How odd. What Tyelko said was true. Makalaurë's footprints reached the very edge of the path then seemingly disappeared, as if Makalaurë had suddenly ceased to exist. But...there was something else.

"Look here," Nelyo softly called, carefully moving himself off of the path and closer to the trees. His form was covered by the shadows cast by the trees, making it harder for the Elves to see him. For that reason, Findekano and Moryo moved closer, raising their lamps, the candlelight illuminating Nelyo's form. Nelyo was cautiously moving around an area close to the path, circling around it as if afraid he might disturb something. "Something was here..." He told them. The grass and plants where Nelyo was were pressed down, as if something heavy had been lying over them. "I don't know what it was but...It was here recently."

He glanced up at the others, wondering if they might know what it could have been. They all shook their heads or shrugged, letting him know that they hadn't the slightest clue.

"Hmm," Nelyo hummed, lightly stepping closer to the trees. Findekano and the others followed, hoping they might find something.

Moryo lingered behind a little, deep in thought. Something about that place...struck him as familiar, yet he didn't know why. And, he also couldn't help but feel that they had just overlooked something. Something important.

"Think, Moryo, think." The fourth son of Fëanaro growled to himself, knocking his head a couple of times with his palm. "When we go hunting, we normally take this path...And I'm sure we set up a couple of-" Wait!

Moryo raised his head, eyes wide when it clicked in his mind.

That was it!

"I know where he is!" Moryo cried, turning and shooting away, leaving the others to follow.

"Moryo! What is it?" Tyelko called after him, fingers tightening their grip on his bow.

"The trap, Tyelko! The trap!"

That was all that needed to be said for Tyelko to understand.

"The net we set up..." He breathed, thinking back to the strange marks on the ground Nelyo had found. It made sense!

"What? What are you talking about, Moryo?" Nelyo demanded to know once Moryo skidded to a stop on the path. He reached out and grasped his brother's shoulders, forcing Moryo to face him. "What do you mean you know where Makalaurë is?"

Moryo managed a small grin, excitement bubbling in his chest. If what he thought was true, then Makalaurë was most likely safe!

"When Tyelko, Curvo and I went hunting this morning," He started, taking a couple of breaths, eyes bright, "We set up a couple of nets along the path to see if we could catch any of the wolves."

Tyelko raised his head, eyes sharing the same hope and excitement Moryo had. "We set one up near here!"

"Yes!" Moryo ecstatically nodded. "It's possible that, while trying to defend himself, Makalaurë may have stumbled into the net and triggered the trap."

Nelyo caught his breath, his heart drumming against his chest. If what they said was true...

"Where is this trap, Moryo?"

Moryo tilted his head up, extending an arm and pointing at the tree they were under. "Up there." Everyone followed his gaze. "It's been triggered." Moryo added in a small, hopeful, whisper.

"Light!" Nelyo commanded. Findekano and Moryo moved forwards, lifting the lanterns up.

"Varda's name..." Findekano whispered, the light shining brightly. Up above them, was the net that Moryo had told them about. It wasn't the net, though, that caught their attention. It was the arm dangling out of the net and the dark, inky-black hair they could see slipping through the holes and the boot poking out.

"Makalaurë!" Nelyo breathed.

Tyelko moved quickly, swinging himself up into the tree and speedily climbing up to where Makalaurë was hanging. He crawled up the large branch the net was tied around, calling down to the others, "I'm going to cut the rope then slowly lower him down! Be ready!"

Nelyo nodded, turning to Findekano and Moryo. "We must be careful when he lowers him..." He paused for a moment, worry and concern flashing through his blue orbs. "We don't know how badly hurt he is."

Findekano comfortingly grasped his arm while Moryo told him that they understood.

Tyelko carefully cut through one of the ropes holding the net, clutching it tightly in his hand when it snapped. He worryingly stared down at the net, noting that Makalaurë had remained awfully quiet throughout this entire ordeal. He never made a sound, not even a pained grunt or murmur.

Quietly, Tyelko called out to him, hoping to receive an answer, "Makalaurë?"

Nothing.

He bit his lip. Maybe he was just unconscious.

Yes. That was it.

Swallowing thickly, he called out in a louder voice, "I'm lowering him now, Nelyo!"

"Be careful!" Came the response.

Tyelko said nothing back, concentrating on his task of not jostling Makalaurë too much. Slowly, he allowed the rope he was holding slip through his fingers before gripping it again. This process was repeated several times until Nelyo let him know that the net had been completely lowered. He was quick to follow, dropping down from the branch instead of climbing back down the tree. He watched, along with Moryo and Findekano, with baited breaths as Nelyo moved towards the net.

Makalaurë had yet to utter a sound.

'Valar, please...'

Nelyo stretched out a trembling hand, grasping the edge of the net and carefully peeling it off of Makalaurë. "Moryo..."

Moryo stepped closer to him, raising the lamp that he held over Nelyo's shoulder so that they could see their brother.

Moryo gave a muted gasp when the candlelight cast it's ethereal glow over Makalaurë's body, allowing them to see how badly wounded he was. Tyelko felt a spark of fear shoot through him when Nelyo's hand shot out to feel for a pulse.

He had yet to move closer, to see for himself how terribly injured Makalaurë was, but he couldn't bring himself to. His feet felt like lead and he couldn't lift them up and out of the mud no matter how much he wanted to.

Nelyo released the breath he'd been holding when he felt a faint pulse, some of the fear he had been feeling ebbing away from the knowledge that Makalaurë still drew breath.

He looked awful...

It made Nelyo's heart clench to see the bloodied clothes on Makalaurë, the shallow and deep claw marks marring his chest, arms, and legs, and the rips and tears that ruined his travelling attire. His complexion was pale, far too pale and his breathing was very shallow, his expression one of pain despite being unconscious. His head was turned to the side, away from Nelyo, but the red-head could see that his eyes were closed.

"Kano..."

With a shuddery breath, Nelyo shifted closer to Makalaurë, fingers lightly brushing against a dirtied cheek and turning Makalaurë's head.

Makalaurë flinched. It was light, but Nelyo had felt it.

"Kano...Toron..." Nelyo murmured quietly, an undertone of pain coating his words. It hurt him to see his little Kano like this, this badly hurt.

A flashback of a time when Makalaurë had broken his arm from falling out of a tree came to mind as Nelyo delicately lifted his brother's head and cradled it in his lap. Nelyo remembered murmuring soothing words of comfort to Makalaurë while he cried and clutched the collar of his tunic with his uninjured arm. He had been twelve when that had happened and Nelyo remembered finding him curled up at the base of the tree, sniffling and sobbing while clutching his shoulder in pain.

A soft rasp of air was his reply, and a subtle movement of Makalaurë's head told Nelyo that he had heard him.

Nelyo didn't try to call out to him again, not wanting to wake Makalaurë and force him to greet the pain that was sure to be awaiting him should he awaken.

"Nelyo,"

The eldest of all Fëanaro's sons tipped his head in Moryo's direction, letting him know that he had heard him.

"You- you need to go." Moryo stuttered out, staring down at Makalaurë's prone form in increasing worry. "Makalaurë needs Nalara."

Nelyo knew Moryo was right, but that meant that he had to move Makalaurë... He would have to cause his brother pain.

"Go, Nelyo." Moryo's tone was stern, one that told Nelyo that he had no time to lose.

Nelyo knew this was true. Findekano wordlessly brought his steed next to Nelyo, seeing for himself how in bad shape Makalaurë was. He bit back a gasp, eyes drifting shut at the sight.

"Quickly, Nelyo..." Findekano breathlessly urged, his horse kneeling in order to make it easier for Nelyo to mount him. "Go."

Nelyo carefully, as if Makalaurë were made of glass, gathered his brother closer to him and stood.

A minuscule sound of pain, almost like a whimper, escaped the unconscious Makalaurë's lips, sending a pang of guilt flashing through Nelyo as he raised one leg over the horse's back and sat himself in the saddle.

They had had the horse saddled knowing it would be far easier than riding bareback with an injured Makalaurë.

Findekano's steed carefully raised himself off of the ground and without his master's urging, started to trot away. He went into a full-gallop not too long after, sensing the urgency his rider and master felt.

Findekano, Tyelko, and Moryo were left behind to watch as Nelyo disappeared into the distance, racing away towards home. Each pleaded with the Eru that all would be well.


~Maglor's Past~

Another high-pitched sound of discomfort and pain drew Nelyo from his worried thoughts and the tall Elf glanced down to see Makalaurë's expression become unbearably pained.

"I'm sorry, Kano..." Nelyo whispered hoarsely, guilt stealing over his features as he urged Findekano's steed to go faster. The horse obediently did so, galloping as fast as it possibly could. "Just stay with me." He urged his unconscious brother.

Howling in the distance caused Nelyo to scowl, hatred directed towards the wolves burning within his chest as they raced to make it home.

Hopefully, Moryo, Tyelko, and Findekano would be safe.


~Maglor's Past~

Curufinwë Fëanaro was having the worst night possible. He could not sleep. No matter how much he tried, Fëanaro couldn't bring himself to slip into Irmo's realm. He had managed to catch some sleep, but then, he was awoken by doors slamming open and his sons' voices speaking in rushed tones with one another.

He had been curious as to what they had been doing, but figured that his sons were merely startled by the sudden storm that had blown in. Ambarto and Pityo had probably been rudely woken up by the thunder and were searching for a place to stay, and so Fëanaro ignored them and turned over.

Nerdanel was blissfully unaware of the outside world, her forest green eyes glazed over in sleep. Fëanaro envied her for being able to rest so easily while he was stuck staring at the canopy of their bed, trying to bore himself to sleep.

It was never hard during those long council sessions his Father expected for him to attend.

He'd stopped attending when Nolofinwë was of age to join in. He let that Vanya whelp take care of the sessions in his stead.

At least he was good for something.

A breathy sigh emitted from Nerdanel's lips as she curled onto her side, facing Fëanaro. Fëanaro looked to find worry crinkling her brow as Nerdanel continued to sleep.

Well, perhaps she wasn't sleeping all that well like he believed. It was evident that she was having a rather unpleasant dream from the looks of it. At least her dreams weren't as bad as Moryo's. The poor Elfling had suffered from horrendous nightmares that left him screaming and crying when he was young. They had tried to wake him sometimes, whenever the dreams would come, but Nalara had advised against it. She had explained to them that whenever Moryo experienced those dreams, he couldn't be woken up.

Those nights Moryo would dream were the worst for Fëanaro and Nerdanel, and even their children. It pained them to watch Moryo suffer and cry out. Sometimes, he would call for his brothers, begging them to help him and his brothers would be forced to bear the burden of listening to his cries and being unable to help him in any way.

Now, years down the road, Moryo's nightmares had become a rarity. He still had them, and whenever he did, Fëanaro, Nelyo, or Makalaurë would stay with him for the remainder of the night. He wouldn't know they were there, but they were.

Slumping back into his pillows, Fëanaro thought over his sons. A smile grew on his lips as he thought of Ambarto and Pityo. Those two never failed to bring a smile on anyone's face. They managed to brighten everyone's days. Even if they were having the worst of days. The twins were always laughing and smiling, never frowning. They hardly ever seemed to get upset unless one of their brothers were down. They were cheery, upbeat, and excited.

Curvo was a natural in forgery. He had already completed an entire set of swords and daggers, each better than the last. Fëanaro wouldn't be surprised if Curvo surpassed him sometime later on in life. He had a calm personality, but he was sharp. He always looked as if he disliked everyone and everything, which always made Elves shuffle away from him. Only those who dared to speak with him would see the warmth he hid behind the facade.

Moryo was the definition of dark. Dark, brooding, but kind. Partially. He was a morbid one, but he had a sense of humor few knew he was capable of having. He preferred to keep to himself, and was hardly social. He had Fëanaro's trademark smirk but what Fëanaro couldn't figure out, was where he'd gotten his dark eyes. He had blue and Nerdanel had green, but Moryo had been born with treebark brown colored orbs. They matched with his cold, aloof expression. He was shrewd and very much reminded Fëanaro of a cat. The entire family knew, however, that Moryo had a heart, unlike any other Elf they'd met. He had an active mind. When he wasn't physically doing anything, Moryo was lost in his mind, solving whatever mysteries and puzzles it held. Sometimes, he would tire himself out that way. It was odd, and Fëanaro often wished to know what it was his son would think about that would exhaust him so.

Tyelko was a social bug. That was the best Fëanaro could describe him. He loved being around people and his family, and he loooved to talk. He had bright eyes that danced with warmth and a welcoming aura. His looks matched his personality well. His bright golden-blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes... That blinding smile he always wore. He was kind and very enthusiastic. He was also optimistic. The entire world could be against him and Tyelko would still point out every positive thing he could find. He was also athletic. It wasn't unusual for Tyelko to rise early in the morning and go for a run through the woods only to return and practice his archery. He'd become an expert marksman at the young age of thirty. Tyelko would enter into every competition he could, whether it be running, archery, or even swimming. He would go and perform just to have fun.

Nelyo struck Fëanaro as the leader of the brothers. He was the one Fëanaro's sons would all look up to. He was the one they felt most safe with. Nelyo was laid-back, patient, and always calm. He was slow to anger and subtle. Whenever his brothers were misbehaving, Nelyo would hint to his brothers that they had better fix their behavior or he would deal with them later. They would immediately warp into perfect little Elflings anytime that happened. Fëanaro had heard from his sons that an angered Nelyo was more frightening than an angered Fëanaro. It wasn't that Nelyo would raise his voice or sharply rebuke them for every little thing they did wrong, no. He would sit them down and with that low, stern tone, would go over their behavior and explain to them why whatever they had done was wrong. Sometimes, Fëanaro would be able to catch that look Nelyo would shoot his sons or any other Elf in particular when they would step out of line. It was a look Fëanaro would think could freeze over the oceans. Nelyo did, however, make sure to point out anything his sons did that was good. When they would unknowingly perform an act of kindness, Nelyo would be sure to point it out.

Nelyo was talented in fencing. He could fight using both a broad sword or twin knives and was lethal with a dagger. His height gave him an advantage against his opponents but it was also Nelyo's intellect that gave him the upper hand. Fëanaro believed his son could somehow read into his opponent's mind to know what they were going to do next, for he was always a step ahead than Fëanaro when they would train. It made Fëanaro work harder in order to not allow Nelyo to win. He liked the challenge it gave him, but at the same time, it told Fëanaro that he'd better step up his game or Nelyo would crush him like a bug during their next training session.

Now...

Fëanaro's lips twisted into a troubled frown.

Makalaurë.

His little songbird. The family's beam of light they sought to conserve and protect. Makalaurë was a pure, innocent young Elf with the biggest heart Fëanaro had ever seen. He was shy but friendly, gentle yet firm, and very loving. Makalaurë was what linked his sons together. Fëanaro knew what Makalaurë would do for his brothers and how he would encourage them no matter what. He believed in his brothers and never made them feel ashamed for being who they were. It was for that reason the brothers all turned to Makalaurë and stuck with him. They could trust him and talk to him about things they weren't comfortable approaching Fëanaro or Nerdanel about. They knew Makalaurë would be there for them. Makalaurë was always willing to help everyone, and sometimes, Fëanaro feared for his son. Makalaurë would overexert himself by putting everyone before him. He would neglect himself, but Makalaurë wouldn't care. As long as he'd made someone else happy, he was fine. He was quiet but not one to be underestimated.

Makalaurë had always been the ray of sunshine in their family, but now, he was...different.

No one knew what had triggered the change, but before they knew it, Makalaurë had become a totally different and unrecognizable Elf to them. He was withdrawn and preferred to be alone rather than in the company of others. If he ever wanted company, he would turn to the twins. Only the twins were capable of bringing out some of the old Makalaurë. He barely sang now and hardly ever messed with his harp or practice on his flute. He was silent, speaking only when he deemed it necessary.

It made both Fëanaro and Nerdanel worried out of their mind. They feared that whatever was troubling their son was something serious. They had hoped he would talk to someone about it, but the only person Makalaurë would freely choose to speak with was Finwë. And, much to Fëanaro's dismay, Nolofinwë. Makalaurë was quite content with spending his time with his Uncle. Fëanaro wondered if it was because Nolofinwë never tried to get him to speak or make him do something unless he wanted to. Nolofinwë seemed to respect Makalaurë's silence. The thing that grated on Fëanaro's nerves was the fact that when Nolofinwë would idly chat to Makalaurë about something, whether it was to comment on some flower he found beautiful or something he found interesting, Makalaurë would respond with a remark of his own. He would even speak more than one sentence to Nolofinwë!

Fëanaro would be lying if he claimed that he wasn't hurt by this.

He was hurt. There were days Fëanaro would wonder if he wasn't a good Father if Makalaurë couldn't bring himself to talk with him about the smallest of things or random subjects that popped into his mind.

Nerdanel had tried to assure Fëanaro by saying that whatever was bothering Makalaurë may be something he didn't want to speak with them about because he believed it would make his parents laugh at him or think he was crazy. Or that they might think that whatever he was troubled by was such a minuscule and silly thing to be worried over.

Fëanaro could understand that. There were some things Fëanaro could never bring himself to talk about to his own Father because he believed his Father would give him that 'seriously?' look or think that he was being silly. He hoped that was the case.

It had been about five years since Makalaurë's sudden change. Five long years.

A deep sigh brought Fëanaro back to the present and he turned his head to find Nerdanel trying to make herself comfortable beside him. Her eyes had lost some of the haze of sleep, letting him know that she was somewhat awake.

"Nerdanel?" Fëanaro quietly murmured, testing to see whether or not she was awake.

He received a tired hum for an answer.

"Are you well?" He questioned.

Silence.

Maybe she was still asleep.

"I'm worried."

Fëanaro blinked, discovering that his wife was slowly becoming wide awake now that she had left Irmo's realm.

"Worried?" He repeated.

Nerdanel tiredly nodded, shifting so that she was closer to him. "I sense something...amiss." She admitted, her brows drawing together in concern. "I think...Something is wrong, Fëanaro." She whispered softly.

Fëanaro sat up, Nerdanel rising along with him. He knew better than to dismiss his wife's feelings. Anytime she had a feeling, or sensed something, Nerdanel was normally right. He'd learned that early on in their married life.

Nerdanel slowly raised a hand up to cover her heart, coughing lightly. Concerned, Fëanaro tucked some of her red hair behind her ear. "Are you well?"

"I'm fine," Nerdanel murmured, a hint of confusion in her voice. "I think..." Her eyes grew large when Nerdanel was struck with a sense of panic. Panic that didn't belong to her. "It's our sons!" She gasped, flying forward in fear. She nearly tumbled out of the bed, sending Fëanaro careening forward to catch her before she fell. He barely managed to snatch the back of her nightgown when Nerdanel slipped from his grasp.

"Nerdanel!" Fëanaro called, watching his wife stumble out of the bed and throw on the nearest, silky, robe. He quickly followed her lead, slipping out of the bed and jogging after her. Nerdanel basically threw the door to their chamber open and sped down the corridor, Fëanaro running after her.

"Something's happened!" Nerdanel fearfully panted out, her feet barely grazing the tiled floor as she ran. She passed each of her sons' rooms, discovering that most of their doors were open and the beds were empty. Fëanaro noticed as well, and realized that the commotion he had heard earlier must not have been because of the twins' fear of the storm.

They were about to pass by Curvo's room when Nerdanel noted that his door was the only one that was shut. She slid towards it, flinging the door open and barging in, startling the occupants of the room.

"Where are they?" Nerdanel near-demanded of her son.

Curvo, who had been seated on the window-sill, nearly leaped out of his skin at his mother's sudden entrance. The twins cried out in surprise and hid their faces in his night-shirt.

"Ammë?"

"Where are they, Curvo?" Nerdanel asked again, lowering her voice when her eyes fell upon the trembling forms of Ambarussa.

Curvo swallowed, his eyes flickering out the window before settling on his Mother. "They left, Nelyo and the others."

"Others?" Fëanaro parroted, silently asking Curvo to tell them who the 'others' were.

"Tyelko, Moryo, and Findekano, Atto. They left earlier..." Curvo clarified, looking between his Father and Mother with a hint of worry.

"Why did they leave?" Fëanaro asked, the lightning from the storm illuminating the entire room. Curvo bit his lip and his parents shared a look. One that spoke of apprehension.

"Makalaurë. They left because of Makalaurë." Curvo slowly replied, tugging on the edge of his sleeve. A sign that he was anxious.

"What of him?" Nerdanel wanted to know, clenching her fists together. Had something happened to Makalaurë? Why did everyone leave because of him? What had he done?

"He never came home..."

It was barely a whisper, but they both heard it.

Fëanaro and Nerdanel tensed.

"What?" Nerdanel hadn't meant to sound harsh, but hearing that Makalaurë had never come home from the market caused her worry to sharpen her tone.

Curvo reluctantly dragged his gaze up to meet theirs, nervously chewing on his lower lip. "Makalaurë never came home last night...Nelyo found out and they left to find him."

Nerdanel released a shaky breath, leaning against Fëanaro, her hands grasping his tightly. Fëanaro didn't flinch from the vice-like grip she had on his hand, instead wrapping his free arm around her shoulders. He, too, was worried to death by this.

"Why weren't we informed?" Fëanaro all but growled, intense blue eyes morphing into a dim grey as they fell upon Curvo's shrinking form. Curvo, for his part, did his best not to shirk back from the weight of his stare.

"It was so sudden." Curvo confessed, comfortingly running his hands up and down Ambarto and Pityo's backs. The twins whimpered quietly, fingers bunching up the fabric of his shirt. "Nelyo ordered for Tyelko and Moryo to come and they left. Findekano went with them because he sensed something was wrong. They knew it had to do with Makalaurë, so they went. We didn't think about anything else but finding Makalaurë." His voice grew so quiet near the end his parents had to strain their ears to hear him.

"Oh Valar..." Nerdanel moaned, hiding her face in her hands. She was so afraid... She had heard about the wolf attacks but had thought, believed, that because there hadn't been any wolf sightings for three weeks, that that meant they were safe. No wonder Makalaurë had been reluctant to go to Tirion with the twins. He probably knew that there were still wild wolves starving for food. And she had sent him to take the twins to the market... "Makalaurë...It's Makalaurë." Her breath hitched, a sob catching in her throat.

"Nerdanel?"

Nerdanel tearfully looked up at her husband, forest green eyes darkening. "Makalaurë was in trouble, Fëanaro. Something happened to him- I felt it."

Fëanaro's grip on his wife tightened, his lips thinning. Curvo could've sworn he had seen terror flash in those sharp blue eyes, but it had disappeared so fast he wondered if he'd imagined it.

"To think that I sent him out there...When he knew...He knew..." Nerdanel trailed off, a couple of stray tears slipping down her cheeks.

Fëanaro shook his head, drawing his wife in a comforting embrace. "No. Don't blame yourself, Nerdanel."

"But it is my fault! I shouldn't have made him go!"

"Ammë-" Curvo was cut off when a strange sound filled the air just as the thunder bellowed.

The three Elves glanced at one another in bewilderment. The twins, however, sat up with wide eyes, recognizing the odd sound they knew didn't belong to the angry storm.

"Nel!" They chimed, shuffling closer to the window and pressing their faces against it to find their brother.

Curvo moved closer as well, hearing the whisper of fabric against the ground. His parents came up behind them, peering out the window in curiosity and worry. Now that the twins had said it, they realized that it had been Nelyo's shouting they had heard.

Another faint and incomprehensible shout echoed through the woods surrounding their home and Nerdanel tensed, recognizing the undertone of urgency and barely concealed fear in Nelyo's voice.

The sound of a rapidly approaching horse followed after the shout and before anyone could move, Fëanaro had dashed away from the room, streaking through his home to the entrance. He didn't have to wait to see Nelyo to know why his son sounded so scared. He knew.

Makalaurë.

He skidded to a near-stop before the great doors leading outside his home and threw one open, bolting outside just as Nelyo rode through the gate on Findekano's steed.

Fëanaro's elven sight allowed him to see the bundle Nelyo clutched against him and fear spiked within him.

Nelyo was drenched from the rain, his clothes soaked and hair sticking to his face, but his white nightshirt was stained with red.

Blood, Fëanaro knew, and his heart sank.

"Nelyo!" He didn't even realize he had called out to his son until Nelyo whipped his head in his direction, blue eyes bright.

"Atto! Help him!" Nelyo pleaded, tugging on the horse's reins. The horse obediently stopped and lowered himself, allowing Nelyo to stumble off its back. Fëanaro rushed forward, catching both Nelyo and Makalaurë when Nelyo slipped and crumpled to the ground. He managed to keep Makalaurë out of harm's way, thanks to Fëanaro's lightning fast reflexes.

Fëanaro, when he was finally able to see Makalaurë for himself, thought that his son was already lost to them. There was so much blood...

He burned with anger at the creatures he knew had attacked his son, yet his heart wept from the sight of his wounded songbird.

They had to act fast.

Fëanaro reached out and took Makalaurë from Nelyo's arms, drawing his son to him and holding him close. A weak whimper escaped Makalaurë's lips and Fëanaro felt a pang of guilt slice through him.

"Run ahead," Fëanaro ordered, never once tearing his gaze away from Makalaurë's pale face. "Wake Nalara and Kliara. Quickly!"

Nelyo shot off at once, racing up the steps to his home and darting away in the direction of the halls of healing. He completely missed Nerdanel standing beside the doorway, her face stricken and complexion pale as she stared down at Fëanaro. She blanched when Fëanaro entered their home, allowing her to see the injuries her son bore.

Fëanaro also didn't notice her, too focused on his son. Nerdanel followed after him, holding her tears at bay.


~Maglor's Past~

It felt like an eternity, to the pacing Fëanaro, waiting for Nalara to open the door to the room that held Makalaurë and talk to them about their little Songbird. To let them know if he would be alright and what he would need.

Fëanaro sighed when he paused in his pacing, hands clasped together behind his back as he surveyed the hallway crowded by his family.

Nelyo was slumped against the wall across the door, blankly staring ahead, waiting for the moment that it would open and Nalara would allow them in to see his brother. Ambarto and Pityo were cuddled together in his lap, two fingers popped into their mouth. The two were eerily silent, as if they had caught onto the fact that something bad had happened and were anxiously waiting to be told what it was. Moryo was seated to the right of Nelyo and Tyelko was to his left. Both had leaned against their elder brother, vacantly burning holes in the ground while waiting for something to happen. Curvo had curled up against Moryo's side, and the dark Elf didn't bother to push him away. Together, the brothers gave one another silent comfort and support.

Nerdanel was wringing her hands together on a nearby bench, anxious. It had been a long while since Fëanaro had brought Makalaurë to the halls of Healing, and they still hadn't heard anything. The door had never opened and Nalara had never appeared. She feared the worst.

Quiet steps approaching them caused Fëanaro to raise his head in time to see a tall, dark-haired Elf round the corner, followed by another Elf. The two were a splitting image of one another and Fëanaro felt a little surprised to see them in his home.

Two other Elves walked after them, worry evident in all of their expressions.

"We heard what happened..." The first Elf uttered quietly, concern seeping into his tone. His voice broke the tense silence that had settled over Fëanaro and his family.

"Atto..." Fëanaro breathed out, shoulders slumping when Finwë approached him and drew him into an embrace. Fëanaro dropped his head against his Father's shoulder, reciprocating the embrace. Nolofinwë went over to Nerdanel's side, seating himself down beside her and squeezing her hand lightly. Nerdanel clutched his hand in her own, casting him a thankful glance. She could use all the comfort she could get.

Findekano and Turukano wandered over to where Fëanaro's sons were clustered together, and it was only when they drew closer that Nelyo raised his head.

If he hadn't been so worried about Makalaurë, he would've started in surprise when he found a young Elfling standing before him, her dark hair cascading over her slim shoulders and blue eyes regarding him with concern. She bore a striking resemblance to Turukano and Nolofinwë, with her slim figure and black hair. The eyes were even the same. There was the same kindness and warmth radiating within them.

The young Elfling shuffled closer to him then wrapped her arms around him. Or, tried to. Her arms were too short.

She pulled away, patting his head and Nelyo graced her with a weak smile. She hesitated for a moment, clutching the stuffed Elk she had then moved forward and offered it to the Ambarussa.

Ambarto and Pityo stared at the stuffed Elk for a moment. Shyly, The twins reached out and took it, settling it between them and hugging it tightly. The Elfling smiled brightly, glad that they had accepted her stuffed animal, never noticing the attention she had drawn because of her kindness.

Findekano and Turkano sat themselves on the ground before them, smiling at the Elfling, and the Elfling waddled over to Turukano. Turukano's arms wrapped around her small waist when she sat in his lap, nestling against him.

Fëanaro couldn't help the small grin that graced his lips as he watched his twin sons cling to the stuffed Elk.

His attention was diverted when Nolofinwë softly spoke up.

"How is he?"

Fëanaro, for once, didn't feel any of the dislike he held against his brother or any ire rise when Nolofinwë spoke, and answered with a shake of his head. "We haven't heard anything." He whispered, lowering his gaze to the ground.

Finwë tightened his grip on Fëanaro, soothingly running his fingers through his hair. "Makalaurë is strong, Fëanaro. He will pull through." Finwë assured him.

It was at that moment that the door to the room Makalaurë was in creaked open.

Almost at once, the sons of Fëanaro snapped to attention, staring at the door expectantly. Nerdanel had also raised her head apprehensively. Fëanaro pulled away from Finwë and turned to face Nalara just as the Healer stepped out and silently shut the door behind her.

"How is he?"

Nalara looked up at the sound of his voice, catching sight of Nerdanel rapidly approaching her husband's side.

"Nalara?" Nerdanel reached for Fëanaro's hand, clearly expecting to be told that Makalaurë was in terrible condition and was preparing herself for it.

Nalara inhaled deeply and, in low tones, replied, "He will be alright."

At these words, the tension in the room eased as everyone slumped in relief. Nerdanel dropped her head against Fëanaro's shoulder, tightly closing her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall.

"The wounds weren't as bad as they looked." Nalara continued on, never raising her voice any louder than a breezy whisper. She could tell everyone was raptly listening to her and was a little taken aback to find Lord Finwë, Nolofinwë and his children, also in the hallway outside Makalaurë's room. "The worst wounds were those that Kliara had to stitch."

All of the sons of Fëanaro, excluding the twins, flinched in sympathy. They all knew what it was like to get stitches, and it wasn't pleasant. Nalara smirked lightly, but it faded away into a serious frown.

"He will be bedridden for at least two weeks in order to recover."

"Two weeks?" Fëanaro repeated, a little incredulous. "It is that bad?"

Nalara's head moved from side to side a couple of time. "No, but his collarbone was snapped clean in two and he cannot move much or the stitches will pull apart. He has suffered from much blood loss and there is also a risk of infection."

Nerdanel's face was ashen as she listened to Nalara's words, her heart going out to her son. He had to be in so much pain... If only she could take the pain for him.


~Maglor's Past~

A day later was when Makalaurë awoke to find himself surrounded by family. He was disoriented at first, confused as to why he was in the Halls of Healing.

It was the Ambarussa who discovered that their brother had awoken, and their ecstatic cries of delight woke everyone else up.

Makalaurë had no idea how many times he was hugged by his brothers, Father, and Mother or the tears that were shed -mostly by his mother. When he was told the story of how his brothers, and Findekano, had searched for him the two nights before and had brought him back, Makalaurë had looked incredibly guilty and apologized profusely to his family.

It was Curvo who summoned up the courage to whack his brother's head, minding his wounds, and lecture him about apologizing over such a stupid thing. Makalaurë only sat there, staring at his brother as Curvo scolded him then made him promise never to do it again.

Makalaurë had to bite back the urge to say that it wasn't his fault, knowing Curvo needed for him to promise this, so he did. Well, he said that he would try his best.

Hardly anyone left his side for the next few days. Then the nightmares began.

Makalaurë was reliving the night he had been attacked, and nearly mauled, by the wolves. His memories had been a little shady, but the nightmares reminded him about everything he had gone through.

He grew restless and would pierce the night with his shouts and cries of agony. Fëanaro ended up having to crawl into the bed and hold his son during those nights, seeing as his presence seemed to set Makalaurë at ease. When Fëanaro wasn't around, it was Nelyo who took it upon himself to comfort his brother.

It was on this night, the seventh day after Makalaurë had awoken that Nelyo found himself watching over Makalaurë as he slept. His eyes were still closed, hiding those brilliant blue eyes behind closed lids. He was still pale, but not too pale and looked quite frail.

Makalaurë had always had that sense of fragility about him. That vulnerability and delicacy that made nearly everyone he met like him immediately. He was graceful, far more graceful than any other Elf Nelyo had met, and elegant. He had always been sweet and kind to everyone, hardly ever uttering any insult or cruel word to anyone. It was one of the reasons every Elf in Tirion loved him. He would help the community in any way he could, playing music for their festivals or coming to lend a helping hand for any project the Elves would put together for the community. He would set up plays and direct some of them, composing the best music possible to go along with them.

Nelyo sighed heavily, looking over to see if Makalaurë was resting well. So far, this night had been rather easy-going and Makalaurë was peacefully slumbering away.

The peace didn't last. Not even an hour had past before Makalaurë started whimpering and uttering small cries of pain and fear. Nelyo immediately reached out and took his brother's hand, murmuring soothing words to Makalaurë, hoping his brother might hear him.

He didn't.

Makalaurë made a rather sharp move, agitating his collarbone, and Makalaurë gave a sharp, wounded, shout. Nelyo cringed, knowing that his brother had to be in a lot of pain now.

"Makalaurë, hush." He held his brother's hand in both of his, marveling at how much smaller Makalaurë's hand was compared to his. "Tis only a nightmare."

Makalaurë didn't hear him, his fingers curling round one of Nelyo's hands, nails digging into his skin.

"Makalaurë," Nelyo repeated, a little louder. He couldn't break through to his brother. When Makalaurë whimpered again, Nelyo carefully climbed onto the large medical bed and settled beside Makalaurë, his head above his brother's.

As if sensing him near, Makalaurë subtly moved his way and Nelyo remained stock still as the minstrel turned his head in his direction.

"That's it, Makalaurë." Nelyo encouraged. "It's okay. You're safe."

"Nel..." It was so small Nelyo almost missed it.

"I'm here, Kano." Nelyo assured him, gripping his brother's hand. "I'm here."

"Help..."

Nelyo's heart broke at the heartrending plea, guilt slashing through him. Makalaurë was calling out to him to save him from the wolves...

Squeezing his eyes shut, Nelyo touched his forehead to Makalaurë's, clenching his teeth tightly together. His failure was still fresh in his mind and Makalaurë calling out to him made him feel even worse. He hadn't been there for his brother. Hadn't been there to save him from the wolves.

"Hurts..." Makalaurë wheezed, coughing lightly. "Hurts...a lot...Make it stop...Please..." Teardrops clung to his lashes. Pain transformed his once-peaceful features, letting Nelyo see how much discomfort he was in.

Nelyo could've cried.

"Nel..."

Nelyo wondered how his Father could do it. How could his Father have stayed beside Makalaurë and listened to his son's cries and wails of pain and fear. It was almost too much for Nelyo, but he loved his brother too much to leave him alone in his agony. He would stay and he would comfort Makalaurë as best he could.

A broken sob fled past Makalaurë's lips when he moved again and the pain of his mending collarbone flared in response.

"I'm sorry..."

Nelyo stared at his brother, wondering why Makalaurë was apologizing. He had nothing to apologize for; Curvo had already told him this.

"So sorry...I was a fool..."

"Shh, Kano." Nelyo calmly murmured, squeezing Makalaurë's hand.

"Nelyo..."

"I'm here, Kano. I'm here. You'll be alright." Nelyo didn't know why he kept talking, but he did. It was obvious Makalaurë couldn't hear him, but Nelyo kept going. "There are no wolves here...You're home. You're safe, remember? You're okay..." He kept assuring him, holding onto that frail hope that Makalaurë would hear him at some point.

Another cough.

A wince of pain.

"I know..."

Nelyo blinked, opening his eyes to find that Makalaurë's own blue orbs were cracked open and staring into his. "Kano..?"

"Nelyo..." Makalaurë's eyes slid shut as a grimace of pain crossed his features. "It hurts..."

"I know...I'm sorry..."

"Sorry..?" Makalaurë weakly repeated, doing his best not to move despite the uncomfortable position he was in. His neck ached from being propped up at a weird angle and his collarbone was screaming at him for having his shoulders hunched up against the pillows instead of lying against something solid. "Help me...move..."

Nelyo hesitated for a split moment, not wanting to cause his brother anymore pain, but Makalaurë was pleading for him to help him move into a more comfortable position. He slowly nodded and delicately lifted Makalaurë up. Makalaurë bit back a hiss of pain, sighing out in relief when Nelyo propped him further up his pillows in a semi-sitting position. It was a more comfortable position for his collarbone, and the pillows were fluffy.

Nelyo settled beside him, leaning back against the pillows. Makalaurë silently rested his head against Nelyo's shoulder, nudging him. Nelyo glanced down at him.

"Are you comfortable?"

Makalaurë grunted quietly, nudging Nelyo's arm again. Nelyo raised his arm up and Makalaurë nestled closer. Nelyo curled his arm around Makalaurë's shoulder and Makalaurë used it as a pillow for his head. He hummed contentedly, allowing his eyes to drift shut.

It was silent afterwards, neither of them speaking until Makalaurë asked,

"Why are you sorry?"

"What?" Nelyo turned his head in question.

"You said you were sorry." Makalaurë told him, toying with the edge of his white blanket. "When I said I was in pain..."

Nelyo bitterly smiled. "It's nothing you should worry over."

Makalaurë frowned. "Nelyo...Something's bothering you."

Nelyo sighed. "Rest, Kano."

But the minstrel refused to. "Nelyo, I know something's wrong. What is it?"

"Nothing, Kano."

"But it has to be something." Makalaurë persisted. Nelyo said nothing. Then it dawned over the minstrel. "You blame yourself..."

Nelyo sharply looked to him only to glance away when Makalaurë tipped his head up to look at him. "You blame yourself!" Disbelief coated his words and Makalaurë was openly staring at his elder brother in shock. "You think it's your fault I'm like this!"

Nelyo sighed deeply. "Kano-"

"No!" Makalaurë interrupted, glaring daggers at Nelyo. "Don't 'Kano' me!" He sternly said, effectively silencing his brother. "You are blaming yourself for something that was out of your control. Nelyo, you have to stop doing this! You're not some deity, some, some God!" The minstrel waved his hands in the air as he spoke, completely ignoring how his collarbone protested against the movement, "You can't protect me from everything, Nelyo."

Nelyo listened to Makalaurë's rant, a little stricken.

"I know you want to shield me, Nelyo. I know you want to keep me safe, but you won't always be there for me." Makalaurë told him, speaking softly. "I appreciate everything you do, I really do...But, Nelyo, there are some things you can't protect me from. My own stupidity for one," he raised a hand when Nelyo immediately went to protest, "My naivety, my fragility...I'm not as strong as you, and if I had trained more, I would've been able to stand my ground against those wolves far better than I did. It was my own fault I was attacked by wolves, Nelyo. It wasn't yours, it wasn't Atto's, it wasn't anyone's fault that it happened." He took hold of Nelyo's hand as he continued. "Think of this experience as a wake-up call for the both of us. I came to realize the error of my ways- a little too late- and you..."

Nelyo's eyes slid shut as he bowed his head. "Learned that I can't always be there for my brothers; that I can't do everything I want to...No matter how much I want to." He averted his gaze. "Though I would've preferred to have learned this lesson in a different way. I guess, I didn't realize what I was doing." He admitted with a somber grin.

Makalaurë kindly smiled up at his brother. "It's alright, Nelyo. You set such outrageous expectations for yourself, but it's to be expected. We worry sometimes, you know."

Nelyo tilted his head in question, wondering what his brother meant.

"You tire yourself with helping us all the time. You're always helping Ammë with the twins and the rest of us, always lending a hand when Atto needs it, pushing yourself to the point of exhaustion making sure we're taken care of instead of looking after yourself."

Nelyo's brows drew together. "Truly?" Now that his brother mentioned it...Nelyo found that it was true. He hadn't noticed since he was so used to doing everything he could to help everyone.

Makalaurë shook his head. "I don't understand how you do it. How can you keep on doing this without crumbling underneath all of the responsibility you place on your shoulders?"

Nelyo smiled lightly. "I think you already know the answer to that, Makalaurë."

Makalaurë nodded slowly. "You're right. I do. I remember..."

"You remember what?"

"When I was, I think, fourteen? You had to watch over me because Ammë and Atto left to go to the market. I'm surprised I didn't drive you crazy with everything I wanted- forced you- to do. We went to the waterfall, played Hide-me-seek-me, walked to the Market, walked home, baked some cookies and a cake..." Makalaurë laughed, a sound Nelyo had been waiting for so long to hear again. Makalaurë's laugh was as musical as his voice, a welcoming sound. "You were still healing from your own encounter with some wolves, and you still pushed yourself in order to make me happy." He played with the edge of the blanket once again, eyes faraway and with a nostalgic smile on his lips. "Being the fool I was, I mistook salt for sugar."

Nelyo let loose another string of laughter at the memory then stopped mid-laugh. "Wait...How do you..?" He stared at Makalaurë, stunned. How did Makalaurë know? He was certain Makalaurë believed the cake he and Nelyo were able to enjoy was the one they had baked together.

Makalaurë smirked. "You may not have noticed, but I was hiding behind the kitchen door watching as you baked another cake because the one we made was ruined."

Nelyo's mouth was still agape and Makalaurë's smirk grew. "Oh, yes. I saw what you did."

"I...I..."

"At a loss for words, Nelyo? I'm amazed. It isn't often that you are tongue-tied."

"I didn't know..."

"I see that now." The smirk faded. "I couldn't believe you would do such a thing for me...You didn't want me to be upset, so you took more of your time baking another cake for us to enjoy because you wanted to make me happy. I'm sure you remember how insecure and shy I was at that age...I always felt I was a disappointment or that I only managed to ruin everything. I didn't understand why you would go out of your way to ensure my happiness. I asked you about it too...I asked why you spent your own time with me that day instead of telling me to find ways to amuse myself..." Makalaurë cleared his throat when his voice gave out. "That night, when you thought I had fallen asleep, you told me that it was because you loved your little brother and didn't think I was annoying or a pest. You have no idea how much I needed to hear that."

Nelyo found that he couldn't speak after Makalaurë had finished, so he settled for resting his head atop Makalaurë's and tightening his grip, knowing Makalaurë would understand what he was trying to say.

Makalaurë smiled a true smile. "Thank-you, Nelyo. I know I haven't always been at my best, but you've always been patient with me, and for that, I am most grateful. I promise, I won't continue sulking anymore."

"About that..."

"We'll talk about it later." Makalaurë smoothly interjected. "I promise. It was silly, really."

"Silly? Five years and you call whatever's been bothering you silly?"

Makalaurë winced. "Ai...It's been five years? My...I was worse that I thought."

Nelyo rolled his eyes at Makalaurë, but he smiled all the same. It was wonderful to have his Kano back. He didn't realize how much he missed him until now. Hopefully, Kano would stay.

Silence settled over the two, broken only when they yawned. "Well, I am tired..." Makalaurë tiredly announced, peering up at his brother from beneath his dark hair. "You will stay..?"

"Of course." Nelyo assured him.

Please, Makalaurë allowed himself to give in to his body's need for sleep, knowing that he had no need to fear the dreams that would come.


~Maglor's Past~

This chapter's a little shorter than I meant for it to be, but it's done. Part 3 and 4 will come up later on in the story. Next chapter will deal with Caranthir's return and a little about what's going on in the present day. I certainly hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and will enjoy the rest that are to come!