silverstar, the silmarillion

i. the peredhil siblings

Maedhros stared blankly at the children cornered at the end of the room. The elder sister - he assumed - was holding a sword, skillfully, impressively, as her younger brothers cowered behind the protection of their sister.

The sister was still eying at the blood-covered long sword that Maedhros had in the grasp of his left hand, her silver eyes warily flicking up to the Fëanorion's darker grey eye color. She pushed her brothers behind her as Maedhros took each step carefully.

"Child, please, I only want to help you," he called out softly, and it didn't go unnoticed when the elder of the siblings stiffened her grip at the hilt of the sword.

"No, you attacked Sirion, our home. Our mother, Elwing, has in her possession the Silmaril that you so lusted for, and attacked us. You will not help us, you will take hostage of us, Fëanorion," the female Peredhel voiced, her voice strong and unwavering, and had little fear, though her eyes betrayed her emotions.

Maedhros clenched his jaw, "You know not of this, girl."

"Elmarë."

Maedhros stared in surprise at her valor, not only did she defied him, she even dared to ask him to be called by name.

"Are you sons of Elwing?" he asked, ignoring their sister as he stared down at the cowering boys. He received a nod and a meek answer from one of the twins, "I am Elros and he is my brother Elrond."

"I will not to kill you," he spoke, looking down at the sons of Elwing as they gripped their sister's leg each. Elmarë narrowed her eyes at him, she stated sharply, and scathingly glared at the red-haired kinslayer, "Hurt me if you will, but not my brothers."

A wave of understanding pass through Maedhros, he too, would have done the same if he were to be in the same position. "Hear me if you must, a son of Fëanor would never have gone back from their word."

And look around of what it had done, Elmarë thought bitterly.

Now, he started to feel guilt crawling up into his heart and make a home there. He shook his head to free himself of the thoughts. This girl shall not sway him.

Elmarë received a stiff nod from the tall elf, and she felt much satisfaction, after all, she would do anything for the safety of the twins.

"Lower your sword, gi - Elmarë," he ordered. She huffed but did as she was told, only because she had more weapons tucked inside her clothes.

Little Elrond and Elros glanced up in fear at their sister, fearing the worst as she threw her sword reluctantly to the ground.

As Maedhros neared the siblings, the twins began to cry and Elmarë sharply rose her eyes to his', warning him to take a step nearer, before trying to calm down her brothers. At the end of the twins' crying, they were sleeping, cradled in their sister's arms, safe, and warm.

Maedhros had asked earlier, to lead him to where their rooms are, and now Elmarë was guiding him through the halls.

When he offered to help the daughter of Elwing to carry one of the twins, she had scowled at him, before she walked at a faster pace.

Of course, he felt his frustration building up at the girl but dimmed it down as to not cause any harm.

She had been smart enough to know that a mere child like her can't escape a son of Fëanor, for he could easily catch her or one of her brothers should they do that. So she obeyed his orders than not. Though she did it with hostile behavior, though it was expected.

As they entered the shared siblings' room, Elmarë set her brothers down gently on one of the beds, before she set haste to collect a number of her clothes from the drawer below her bed. She discreetly packed a small harp into her satchel.