Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: -
Warnings: AU, blood, mentions of torture, character death, Loss of bodily autonomy (no Non-con)
Chapter: 17
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me
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Maedhros was saddling his horse, a heavy-build charger, while beside him Maglor was double-checking the contents of his saddle-bag. Almost four years since their family had taken, it was finally time to follow. They'd first head to one of the exits of the cave-system where the dwarves had found Caranthir and Curufin's personal effects, such as had been left over time, and from there search for a trail to follow.
They were in the city at lake Helevorn, which would become their mother's seat of rule once he left and lordship of the House of Fëanor in Beleriand fell to her.
"Here." His mother held a small package up to him. "For the road." She had not been happy to learn that only the Ambarussa would remain with her, but had been unable to refute the reasoning that would send her eldest three south and out of Beleriand.
"Thank you." He accepted it, feeling the texture of textile-wrapped waybread in his fingers. He reached for his own bags, looking for a good spot that wouldn't squish it too badly.
Fingolfin was standing beside Rochalor, in a low discussion with Finrod and Fingon. He wondered if their gold-haired family-member was making a last-ditch effort to be able to join.
"A moment." Eönwë approached, having been summoned briefly back to Valinor a few days ago.
"Lord Herald." Fingolfin drew himself up, despite the fact his crown already rested on his son's head.
"There is a fifth member of your party." The Maia evenly pointed out. "By my Lord's grace."
"Oh?" Maedhros shifted a bit, to look around the form of Manwë's Herald. The form was robed, hunched small, one hand holding a set of reins to a well-bred horse he was pretty certain came from Maglor's stock in the North.
The hand tightened around the leather band, while the other rose to push off the hood from the robes. "Hello." The face of the elf looked so alike to Curufin that it could only be two people; Celebrimbor, who was standing with his silver-haired uncle, or Fëanor, who apparently had been reborn from the Halls of Mandos.
Celegorm cursed fiercely behind him, but Maedhros' full focus was on his father, standing behind the Maia.
Nerdanel was the first to move, almost shooting over to her husband, hand slamming against his cheek so hard he nearly unbalanced. "Exactly what do you think you are doing here!?"
"His original judgement was 'exile'." Eönwë declared calmly, one hand outstretched to keep her from repeating her actions. "It was decided that considering certain circumstances he would be allowed to try and repent of his deed during said exile, by assisting at the return of our ordained Valinorian King of the Noldor."
"Did he ask for it?" Celegorm snarled. "Because I feel he wouldn't have cared if not for Curvo also being with our uncle."
Maedhros wondered if his father even knew Sindarin and understood what his third son had said, or if only the gist got across from tone and posture? "Tyelko..."
"What? I certainly don't recall him appearing when you were taken, or when our uncle was the first time!" The Hunter angrily pointed out. "Would he be joining us if not for his favorite son being taken?"
"Celeg." Maglor beseechingly moved over, hand on his brother's shoulder. Almost immediately it got shaken off, the most bulky of Fëanor's son mounting his horse and heading south. Leaving the rest of them to scramble to catch up.
Maedhros rode forward hard, to bring his horse beside that. After a brief glance behind him, he saw Maglor right behind them with Fingolfin and Fëanor at the back.
This just might end up a complete mess, if his father was involved again. And he couldn't really blame Celegorm, though it was unreasonable to assume that their father could have come back earlier.
Huan loped beside them, strong muscles not hidden under his shaggy fur.