Category: Tolkien-Universe

Rating: M

Couples: -

Warnings: AU, blood, mentions of torture, character death, Loss of bodily autonomy (no Non-con)

Chapter: 38

Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me

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"Nelyo!" His father's voice came from downstairs, Huan looked down the stairs he was still blocking, then shot up with a bark.

He scrambled from his seat on the bed, towards his father. He froze at the top of the stairs however, noticing that his father had not come alone. "Moryo..." Fëanáro's eldest breathed, descending three steps at once.

"He needs healing." His father's face was pale, but the arms that held his sibling didn't even tremble, despite the weight.

"Yes." He helped their father keep his balance on the way up the stairs. "How did you...?" How had he managed it?

The eldest currently living of the House of Finwë was kept from answering when his other two hale sons joined them, crying out at their brother's state. He was wrapped shoddily in their father's tunic, bare feet dangling down from one arm.

"Here..." Finwë's firstborn lowered his fourth son onto the nearest bed. "Tyelko, bring the healing-supplies we have. I am pretty certain it was Moryo last night." He peeled open the red tunic, baring the chest. It had been whipped bloody, the linnen of the fabric sticking to it. "These shouldn't scar, but..." But the damage was a lot.

Maidhros sat down at the head-end of the bed while his father and second brother attended the medical care. With his lone hand, he'd just get in the way, so he gently patted his brother's head. It came away red.

"The hooks of the jewelry." Nolofinwë murmured, appearing beside him to start on wrapping the head. His hands shook whenever they were not near Carnistir's head. "Where else?"

"Wrists and ankles." Fëanáro only briefly looked up before turning his attention down again to where he was working with Makalauré. "The bastard just used some command word and I feared he had killed him then and there as the things fell off."

The only redhead scooted some to make space for his last siblings to also help with the bandaging, only to nearly jump up when his white-haired brother cursed. "What!?"

"This!" Tyelkormo held up the hand whose wrist he'd been about to wrap in bandages and poultices, a black snake curling around the limb with fangs descending down the pointer-finger and thumb. "How did...?" He shook his head, clearly deciding to figure out the details of that mess later.

Their uncle moved to another limb when he finished the hair, allowing him to get a clearer look at his brother's face. He bit his lip when noticing a small gemshape on the snake-side cheek, clearly made with the same art.

It got worse when they lifted Moryo from the bed to bandage his torso, because there was yet another of those things on his back. This one was so large that he couldn't even tell what it was from the angle and amount he saw.

"How did you even manage it?" Kano asked softly, in between his soft Singing.

"What did this cost?" Tyelko demanded more firmly, having seated himself on the bed so Carnistir's head could rest on his legs.

Their father did not speak for a while, tracing the uncovered part of the black snake with his fingertip. "The Silmarils."

"What!?"

"I asked him what was worth less, the Oath or the Silmarils. So when he said Oath, I gave him the thing with more value." Fëanáro murmured, hand firmly holding his son's hand. "It's about the only thing we had of value." He took a deep breath. "I should never had let things get to the point where any of you would thing I'd value them more than you."

"You gave them up?"

"Yes. Yes, I did! What use are some gems to me if I lose any of you!?" Miriel's only child hissed.