"But as the host of Fingolfin marched into Mithrim the Sun rose flaming in the West; and Fingolfin unfurled his blue and silver banners, and blew his horns, and flowers sprang beneath his marching feet, and the ages of the stars were ended … Many of Feanor's people indeed repented of the burning at Losgar, and were filled with amazement at the valour that had brought the friends whom they had abandoned over the Ice of the North; and they would have welcomed them, but they dared not, for shame."

Maglor

Maedhros had been away from Sirion earlier in the day, chasing after Elwing, and everything had gone wrong here. He was gone just now too, for a moment, lost in whatever pit his thoughts had dug. But now his brother was back, and if Maedhros didn't have the power to make the world right per se, he could at least put it in order.

It came so naturally to him. Maglor couldn't relate. He had been high king of the Noldor, in name at least, for some thirty years, when Maedhros had hung in torment on Thangorodrim. He hadn't been very good at it. The sun first arose in the sky like a ball of flame, his cousins had stepped on the soil of Mithrim to the call of trumpets, and Maglor had hid his face in shame waiting for someone better to make a decision. When Maglor's cousin finally rescued Maedhros from his captivity, Maedhros was naturally the person who felt the most relief. But Maglor was perhaps a close second.

Maedhros paused from speaking for a moment and turned his head to look at Maglor.

Maglor stepped forward. "We still have Earendil's house to see." He lowered his voice. "The peredhil."

Maedhros nodded carefully. "Yes." He peered around the town square for a moment. Tamblin had gone off with his men to fetch the healers, and Iarben was herding together a cluster of soldiers for the other task. He grabbed Maglor's arm as they started off towards the center of town. Maedhros murmured, "We'd be wise to get there before anyone else does."

"For a second time," Maglor agreed.

"What?"

Maglor grimaced. "Let's just get to the house."

Maglor could see Maedhros looking around as they made their way through the ravaged streets up to Earendil's house. At the entrance of one dwelling where the door had literally come off its hinges, Maglor spotted a young elfling peering around the doorframe before its mother quickly pulled her back inside.

Maedhros didn't say anything.

There was a barricade, or at least the shattered remains of one, that had spanned the expanse of the street. Maedhros and Maglor stepped around it. It was less … crowded here than it had been at the entrance to the town, but Maglor could still see the colors which trickled in the gutters bordering the street. There were soldiers lying here too, mostly in Feanorian armor. Maglor wondered how many of them had actually been killed by Earendil's host, versus how many died fighting against their own side. In addition to the Feanorians, there were other figures on the ground. These weren't soldiers.

A few of their soldiers followed behind at a respectful distance. Some of the elves were the ones who had ridden out with Maedhros earlier in the day, and were just now seeing the destruction that had been wrought on Sirion in their absence. Maglor could hear muttering behind them.

They reached the crest of the hill and Maglor exhaled with relief. "There." He pointed to the gate with its nautical imagery.

Maedhros turned behind to the elves as he and Maglor stepped through. "Wait outside."

Maglor had seen the destruction inside the house already. He stepped over the torn furnishings now, and past the dead soldier by the window on his way to the stairs.

Maedhros kept turning in circles. "What happened, Maglor?"

The sound of their feet on the wooden steps felt louder than normal against the quiet of the rest of the house. Maglor shrugged. "I think some of our elves got here before we did. Maybe they didn't know this was Earendil's house. It's not as if there was a sign up front."

"And then?"

Maglor frowned in thought. "And then they did what they'd been told to do for all the houses. That must have been when the rebelling forces found them. Did you see that elf down there? Killed by a Feanorian arrow."

They had reached the landing. Maedhros poked a toe at the bloodstained carpet. "With Elwing already gone hours before. Gods above, this whole campaign was a mess, Maglor."

"We never should have come to Sirion."

"Could you have stayed away?"

Maglor didn't answer. He paused at the bedroom door. "Ready?"

"No." Maedhros turned the knob anyway and they stepped inside.