Sons of Feanor

by Son of Serinde

"I was young, and the world had not yet lost its luster. I saw my father and all my brothers take the oath, and so did I, one after another. It felt so simple. And for that I have been hundreds of years far from home, and I will never see my mother again. Do not swear such oaths rashly as I did." Book 1: The Kinslaying at Sirion. Book 2: A Brief Respite. Book 3: The War of Wrath.

52. Book 2 - Reunited

Maglor

Maglor put down his pen when Tamblin walked through the study door.

"Time for patrol already? It feels as if we're barely at midday."

Tamblin shrugged. "Darkness falls early this time of year."

"I'll grab my cloak."

Maglor peered through the windows as they walked down the hallway to Losselire's main entrance. "The forest has been growing close to the estate walls lately; I'm worried it'll start to crack the stone. Find the gardeners tomorrow; see if someone can convince the trees to edge back again. Someone persuasive."

"Yes, sir."

Maglor pulled open the heavy oak door and paused. "Shouldn't you have your sword?"

Tamblin patted his belt. "Drat. Left it by the fire."

Maglor waved his hand. "Meet me at the stables; I'll saddle up our horses in the meantime."

The captain dashed off.

Maglor tugged his cloak tighter and moved to push the door shut. There was a rapid patter behind him of footsteps on gravel. He paused with his hand on the knob.

Elros' cheeks shone pink as he bolted down the path towards him.

Maglor smiled. "Pure eagerness to see me, I'm sure. Ontamion is inside, if that's who you're chasing after." He stood aside as Elros flew past.

Elros' boots skidded on the stone tile as he rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

Maglor frowned. He should hurry to the stables, he knew; the daylight would fade fast and he had no wish to wander the forest after dark. Instead he stared at the little marks Elros' shoes had left on the floor in his haste.

A flock of birds burst from the tree line just beyond the walls, screeching and casting a black cloud across the sky for a moment. Maglor flinched and finally slammed the door shut. He stared at the path where it bent around an overgrown cluster of blackberry bushes. The fruit had long since withered away in the last days of autumn, leaving only dry dead brambles.

And then he heard hooves on the gravel. Maedhros appeared in view. He sat astride his horse with his great fur cloak cresting his shoulders. As Maglor looked closer he could see Maedhros' longsword with gold braided into the hilt, sheathed at his waist.

It was the same image Maglor had seen hundreds of times before, not a single detail altered from his memory.

Anger flared in Maglor's stomach.

Maedhros dismounted stiffly, and for a moment all each brother could do was stare.

Maglor opened his mouth.