Elurín
The dreaded day had arrived, and he was going to be sick. Rolling out of his bed, he noticed his brother was already up and sitting on his bed with his back against the headboard. The twins, who looked so similar, nodded at one another.
Eluréd stared solemnly at his brother. "I do not wish to leave. I am happy here. What can the Havens offer me?"
"Marriage, love, children," Elurín replied.
The two twins smirked at one another and then snickered. That was the line Amras, and Amrod fed them as the reason for sending them away. Elurín understood where they were coming from, but Amon Ereb was his home, and they were basically throwing them out now that they were of age.
A soft knock sounded at the door, and Maedhros opened the door slowly. "Come, it is time."
The brothers sighed with longing as they slung their filled packs onto their backs. They both paused at the door and looked around their room one last time. At long last, Eluréd closed the door behind them with a snap.
Maedhros was waiting for them in the hall, and without a word or a glance back at them, he strode down the long hallway. The twins hurried to keep up with his tall frame as they came to the end of the hall, where the rest of the Feanorians were eating the morning meal around the table.
Amrod and Amras smiled at them both with sad frowns as Elurín took his normal seat next to them. It was quiet as they all ate; none of them spoke, as doing so would make it real.
He knew the day would come. The years he spent in the castle were good, but there was regret and grief that followed them since they were little. All of the surviving brothers held deep regret for what happened at Doriath. The madness had taken hold, and it was only when the twins grew up that they began to understand firsthand the devastation that followed. Elurín watched daily as they all struggled to fight off the oath. Some were better than others, but each of them were slowly slipping into madness.
The letters were a clear indication that things were starting to change. Maedhros had sent letters yearly, then every season, then every month, and now almost weekly. The letters to Celebrimbor were growing in number, no matter how many he sent back in return, begging them to let it go. The twins knew better than most that nothing was going to stop them until the silmarils were in their grasp and their oaths fulfilled.
It was heartbreaking to witness and even worse to watch as the madness slowly grew. Amras and Amrod fed them a lie, but they knew better. Elurín often wondered if sending them to the Havens was a fallback plan of sorts. If they did manage to attack the city, would he or his brother turn over the silmaril to them to spare the city, or would the worse happen, and the two sets of twins be forced to fight to the death? He shuddered at the thought, but the thought often kept him up late at night.
The clinking of knives and glasses was all that greeted him as they finished their meal. There was no big heartfelt goodbye, and Elurín knew there never would be. He would not deny that the four of them held a special place in his heart. They raised him and his brother, and love grew between them all. Amras and Amrod were like older brothers and father figures to him. He loved them unconditionally, and it was hard to explain to others who would certainly ask and judge them for it. He was not looking forward to the Havens and the inquisition that was to follow.
Maedhros cleared his throat and stood up from the table, "come. Your horses are ready, and it is time for you to leave."
The brothers shared a glance as they followed their savior out into the courtyard. It was dark still, and the morning cold caused his breath to show as he breathed out. The stars twinkled overhead, and he tipped his head back to admire them. Amras came to stand next to him and joined him in his admiration.
"You will be alright," he commented quietly. "I wish for you to be happy and to be with your family again."
Elurín snorted, "my family is right here."
The corners of Amras's mouth turned up into a smirk, but it was gone quickly. "We are not related," he commented easily.
He turned to face the elf that he had come to love as an older brother and father. "Since when does blood matter when it comes to family? You are like a brother to me, and you raised me. We are family now, regardless of a blood connection."
Amras just sighed, "you are so young. You do not understand what you are saying. Had you grown up in the Havens with your people, you would view me as the enemy. You would look at me with hatred and disdain and would probably try to kill me. It was wrong for my brother to bring you here. He should have found a way to send you back to your people when you were children."
Elurín looked at him with a deep surprise. "Do not act this way. Not on the morning of my departure. I have forgiven you all long ago. My brother and I would have died in that forest if Maedhros did not rescue us. The wolves were coming, and it was only a matter of time. Do not belittle all that we have been through and the love that we share." Elurín turned to face him as he said, "no matter what happens in the future, you will always be my family."
Amras's face was blank, but his eyes held a different story. Elurín knew what he was doing. Amras and Amrod were trying to push them away as a way to keep them safe and soften the blow of the oath. Amrod came over and stood next to his brother. They both looked at him with longing and regret, and Elurín couldn't look at them any longer.
He turned to mount his horse as his brother rode over to him. Maehdros came and handed his brother a small letter "for Celebrimbor." Eluréd nodded and stuffed the letter into his tunic.
His eyes met every single one of the brothers, but none of them spoke. Maglor played a sad and sorrowful tune on his harp, and with one last look at them, he and his brother urged their horses forward and out of the keep.
His eyes burned from the tears as he rode on through the darkness. His brother galloped next to him, but he knew that he was no better. It was a terrible feeling to leave everything and everyone behind and head off into the unknown. Not only that, they were not given a choice and were kicked out of their home.
They rode on until dawn as the sun crept over the plains. Eluréd pulled his horse to a stop on a low hill and glanced at him. "It will get better."
His brother was the more hopeful and optimistic one, but Elurín knew that they had to keep moving forward. A small part of him longed to see a new city and meet new people, but the circumstances of leaving were what troubled him. He hummed in agreement with his brother, and they urged their horses on again.
For most of the day, they rode hard and fast toward the Havens. It was not a difficult place to find, and they stopped a few times to rest and eat their meals. However, daylight was fading, and just as the stars started to come out overhead, they arrived at last at the entrance of the city.
It was larger than he expected and more fortified than Amon Ereb. Lights were scattered around the city, and the buildings were illuminated in the distance. The guards called for them to stop, and they got off their horses easily.
Eluréd moved first and introduced them to the guards. While his brother spoke, his eyes wandered and soaked in everything that he could see. The tall white walls, the detailed craftsmanship in the doors, and the breathtaking scenery of the cliffs and ocean. For the first time all day, he was hit with a sense of wonder and amazement. His heart hammered in his chest with excitement at exploring all the city had to offer and meeting everyone he could.
His brother pulled on his arm hard to get his attention. The guards had opened up the gate, but they were not allowed in very far. As the doors closed behind them, his eyes roamed the sights of their new home. The white buildings were of Noldor design, but the gardens and flower beds were the pride of the wood elves. There were not many trees that he could see, yet the city was a colorful place filled with plants and flowers. He wondered if this was what Gondolin must have looked like, and he got sad at the thought of never seeing the cities from the stories.
Eluréd coughed to get his attention, and his eyes snapped to his brother. "They are sending someone to meet us. There is a festival being held at the moment for the fall of Gondolin. Our sister is in attendance and will not be meeting us here."
He snorted and rolled his eyes. His sister, the spoiled rotten brat she was. He read every letter she sent back to the Feanorians, and his tolerance of his sister was growing thin. Whoever raised his sister did a poor job of it, and he was not looking forward to seeing her again. His brother remained hopeful that they could convince her to let go of the silmaril, but he knew better.
After a while, a silver-haired elf approached them, and they both tensed. As he got closer, Elurín spotted the silver crown on his head, and he guessed it was the king.
The elf came towards them with a large smile on his face. "Welcome, welcome. It is wonderful to make your acquaintance. Manwë and Varda have blessed us with clear skies this evening, and a star shines upon the hour of our meeting."
Elurín shared a quick glance with his brother, and then he bit down on his tongue to hold his laughter. This was Orodreth's son? They grew up hearing stories about Nargathrod and the different houses of Finwë.
His brother bowed low and replied, "greetings, your majesty. It is an honor to meet you in person finally. My brother and I have traveled a long way and request admittance into the city."
The king stood in front of them, looking regal and far too clean for his liking. However, the king simply nodded and waved for them to follow him. "Of course. All are welcome. Your sister is most eager to see you but come. The festival is still ongoing, and I promised not to miss a friend of mine's performance."
Their horses were led away along with their belongings as they followed after the king. The city was surprisingly empty as they made their way through the small city streets. As they came upon a large courtyard, the entire city seemed to be squeezed inside. It was packed tightly with elves, but more were walking away from the courtyard down a long alley.
Elurín's eyes landed on the portraits surrounding the center of the courtyard. There were hundreds of them, all with candles and flowers piled underneath. It was a memorial for the dead, and his heart clenched up at the sight. His feet moved on their own as he made his way around the courtyard, looking for the person he wanted to see. It took a while, but his brother and the king merely followed behind him, not saying a word.
Finally, as he approached a large pile of flowers and candles, he looked upon the portrait of the woman who saved his life. There were a handful of portraits of her around the keep, but none of them captured the happiness on her face quite like this one. It was their wedding portrait, and the love shared between the two made his breath falter. His brother came to stand beside him, and they were both overcome with a moment of sadness.
Kiera, the woman who saved their lives, was gone. Died a hero, defending the city and her children against a Balrog. Her husband, Ecthelion, died with her, and together their love and sacrifice would be told throughout the ages.
However, that was not why they were standing in front of her portrait. She had saved their lives by warning Maedhros before the fall. There were rumors and theories as to how she knew, but regardless, Kiera chose to save them. He would always be grateful for the women he had never met, who cared enough about two little boys in a far-off kingdom.
Elurín sniffed and wiped his tears with his sleeve. The king came to stand next to them as he looked at them with deep surprise. "Did you know the lady Kiera?"
"No," he replied shortly.
Surprisingly, the king did not ask any more questions and gave them a few more minutes of silence before he led them on. They walked around the courtyard for a little while longer, but the portraits of the people of Gondolin meant little to him. He did not know them, but he understood the loss and grief all too well.
The king finally led them down the long alley, which opened up to a massive green space. Groups of people were sitting at tables, eating and drinking wine. There was a small dancing section, along with musicians playing next to the tables. Hundreds of elves were in attendance, but his eyes found his sister immediately.
Elwing was sitting at the head of the table with the silmaril on display around her neck. A man was seated next to her while the two looked at one another with lust-filled eyes. Disgust burned through him as seeing his sister display the jewel that caused their family so much pain and destruction. Gil-Galad's eyes followed his line of sight and then said, "it is the jewel of your people."
"It is not," his brother replied. "It is nothing more than a curse. If you will excuse us, my brother and I are famished from the journey."
The king blinked but muttered, "of course."
Without another word, they left the king and made their way over to the food tables. They didn't speak as they grabbed plates of food and helped themselves to wine. Elurín spotted an empty table and led his brother over to it.
As soon as he dropped his plate, he muttered, "home, sweet home."
His brother chuckled as he sipped his wine. "It is not all bad. The wine is good, and the food is decent. It could be much worse."
"Could be better," he muttered.
Eluréd just shrugged, unbothered by his grumpy mood. Once he had eaten his fill and drank some wine, he was feeling a little better. Unsure of what to do next, they sat at the table, drinking together and watching all of the people.
It was an odd sort of festival if he was being honest. He spotted a small group of people who were solemn and seated together at tables. There were tears and sad faces amongst the group, and Elurín assumed that they were the actual survivors of Gondolin. The rest of the people were dancing, laughing, and signing. Too unbothered to care and were glad for an excuse to party. Whoever planned this festival did a poor job of it, as the actual people were mourning their losses.
His eyes roamed around for a little while longer, but the king stood to speak. The entire area quieted in seconds, and Elurín turned to listen.
"Thank you all for coming to mourn and honor the fallen of Gondolin," the king started. "We are gathered here today, ten years after the fall, to honor those who can not be here with us. Loved ones, spouses, parents, siblings, family, and friends. We honor those who gave their lives so that others may live. Their sacrifices were not in vain, and they will live on in our memories. Tonight, we celebrate the dead and all that we have lost."
The king bowed his head as the rest of the city followed suit in a moment of silence. Then, he raised his glass and added, "it is time to remember the dead. Andir and Ellie, if you would please begin."
A man and a woman stepped forward from the crowd and made their way over to the musicians. The more Elurín watched them, the more he realized that they were not entirely mortal. Half-elven, like himself and his brother. There were only a handful of people it could be, but he got his answer almost immediately.
The man, Andir, held up his flute and began. "It is an honor to stand here and play a song for our parents. Lord Ecthelion and Lady Kiera of the fountain. They were the best parents, loving, supportive…." Andir choked up as he spoke, and he took a moment to compose himself. "I wish for nothing more than to see them both again and tell them how much I missed them. As most of you know, our mother was from a different world. When we were children, she often shared music from her home with us. Ellie and I would like to play and sing a song from her home with you all this evening."
Andir sat on an empty chair as Ellie stood next to him. He began to play, and a few seconds later, she began to sing. The melody was hauntingly beautiful, and the words she sang drew him in. He had never heard anything quite like it, and he grew up with Maglor.
As Andir played, the soft strains of the flute filled the air, and everyone paused to listen. The mournful tune was both soothing and heart-wrenching, and many people were wiping away tears from their eyes. Himself included.
Andir's playing was nothing short of masterful, and it was clear that he had poured his heart and soul into the composition. A loud choking sound came from the group, and Elurín spotted another half-elven who had broken down in tears and buried his face in Celebrimbor's shoulder. It was gut-wrenching to watch, and he knew that the man must be Eldir. Celebrimbor comforted him, and they held onto each other tightly.
As the song came to an end, nearly everyone was affected. Seeing the grief and heartache etched across their faces was enough to bring anyone to tears. The people were quiet, and no one dared clap as the group of Gondolin survivors had covered their faces or were choking down sobs.
Andir stood, and his voice cracked as he said, "I know today has been difficult. Ten years have felt like a lifetime, and not a day goes by that I do not miss my parents. I have hope that I will see them again someday. That we all will be reunited with our loved ones and will cherish the time spent together even more. There was a saying from my mother's world that she liked to say to us a lot. The ones that love us never really leave us. You can always find them in here." Andir moved his hand across his heart as the tears rolled down his face.
A golden-haired woman choked out a loud sob from the table. He did not recognize her, but the old man that comforted her gave her away. Idril, the princess of Gondolin, and her husband, Tuor. It was odd seeing people who he grew up hearing about mere tables away from him. Idril continued to sob as more people came over to comfort her. Andir and Ellie had left their places and made their way over to their brother. While the family consoled each other, another person stood and made their way to the front of the crowd.
It was a young elf who couldn't have been older than 100. He had a slip of paper, and he began to tell a short story about his father, a builder of Gondolin. How his father had stayed behind to fight, even though he had never picked up a sword in life. His father could wield an ax better than a blade and was welcome in Lord Rog's company with open arms. The young elf told a story about how his father and the others in Rog's house had noticed the survivors fleeing the city on the mountainside, how the entire company of elves walked bravely to their deaths to ensure that the survivors of the city would not be spotted. Then, he spoke of the moment he knew his father was gone, as he looked back at the top of the mountain and he knew his father sacrificed himself for his only son.
His voice cracked as he spoke. He told them all how he was only 89 at the time and argued with his father to let him stay and fight. His father refused and made him flee with the women and the children, for which he would always be grateful. His father died a hero and gave up his life so his only son may live. Not every person that fought died a hero's death, but everyone who fought lost something important to them. He ended his speech by saying his father died a hero to him, and that was good enough.
Elurín could not stop the tears as they came, and it was pointless to try. More and more people stood to speak about their loved ones, including Idril, who spoke about her cousin, Maeglin. Nearly every person from the Gondolin survivors had something to say, except for a small few. Celebrimbor, he noticed, did not speak at all. Instead, he held on tightly to Eldir as the two comforted each other. He and his brother shared a glance at that, as they knew the truth and wondered if Celebrimbor would speak about Kiera at all.
He didn't, and the night drew on as the last of the people spoke or sang. Nearly everyone was saddened at the end, and the elves who were dancing and singing at the beginning were now overcome with tears. It was not a festival to celebrate the dead, it was one about remembrance as the grief was still too near.
When the last person finished, the king stood. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it quickly. After a few minutes of silence, he finally said, "I have nothing more to say. Hold your loved ones close and cherish the time spent with one another."
It was quiet for a long while after, as each person was in their own world of pain and grief. Slowly, elves began to filter out of the area as they headed back to their homes.
His brother stood quickly, and Elurín followed his line of sight. Celebrimbor had spotted them and was staring at them both blankly.
His brother moved with ease as he made his way over to him. Elurín caught up to him just as his brother handed over the letter. Celebrimbor just stared at them both, and then he crumbled the letter in his hand and stuffed it into his tunic without saying a word.
His brother nodded at him and turned to leave. Elurín was about to follow when his eyes caught sight of another. A fire burned deep in his chest in an instant, and he couldn't look away.
Eldir, the half-elven, had come to stand next to Celebrimbor. His deep black hair was cut short, but he looked similar to his brother. What drew him in the most were his eyes, as they were a startling blue, with a light in the center.
Their eyes met, and Elurín sucked in a breath. The fire was an inferno in his stomach, and he couldn't look away. He knew, without a doubt, that this was the man for him. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, and he was consumed with the feeling.
The seconds passed as lifetimes as their eyes found the other. He was about to speak, to spill his heart to the man he did not know, but his brother pulled him roughly away before he could.
Eluréd's hand was firm on his upper arm as he pulled him roughly to the edge of the area. "What is the matter with you?" His brother hissed angrily at him. "Gawking at a crying man who lost his parents, as if he has two heads. What is wrong with you?"
"I love him."