silverstar, the silmarillion

v. love of a sister

Elmarë eyed her brothers' clothes with a wrinkled nose. She knew that they hadn't bathed for days due to the constant moving, and she felt rather filthy too. She glanced at the nearest son of Fëanor, which was Maedhros, and asked, "Is there a shallow stream nearby? If so, would you permit me and my brothers to bathe?"

Maedhros just... grunted. He then nodded then whispered to his brother. Maglor stood, offering her and her brothers a (reassuring?) smile, then said, "I will accompany you." Her eyebrows flew, then he added hurriedly, "As a watch."

Her lips twitched, nearly forming an amused smile, as she dragged Elros and Elrond by their hand. She inclined her head, allowing Maglor to take the lead, her and her brothers' clothes pinned by her arm.

When they reached the stream, Elmarë peered above it, dipping her naked feet inside the gently flowing stream. It was warm, not cold as streams usually are. She made an approval noise, not any more worried that her brothers will suffer cold from the cold water.

Elmarë laid their clothes on a nearby hanging tree branch, then raised an eyebrow at Maglor. He spoke, "I will turn my back, and once you have undressed, you will give your clothes to me."

She nodded in understanding, though she had stated clearly that she will not try to escape due to the dangers outside the temporary camp, her brothers had not known such dangerous exposure. They will most likely try to escape with such a stunt.

Elros had a gleam in his eyes that spelled trouble, he challenged, "How will you know if we will not leave our clothes?"

Maglor leaned his face closer, "Because I and your sister know, that you will not risk escaping with orcs roaming around." Elros' grey eyes dimmed as he nodded grimly in understanding. Elmarë stared between them and motioned for Maglor to turn around.

True to his word, he turned his back, and Elmarë began undressing her little brothers. He sat away by the tree trunk as he patiently waited for the Peredhil to bathe. Once they finished, Maglor led them back to the camp.

Elmarë's hair was wet, as she waited for turns for the towel after her brothers. As they walked, she dried her dampened long silver hair, walking idly beside him, as Elros and Elrond grabbed a hem of her dress.

As they arrived at the tent, Elmarë turned, but seemed to hesitate, "Maglor, may I trouble you with a comb?" He moved towards his satchel and pulled a comb for her, to which she received with a thankful but stiff smile, "Thank you," said she.

...

It was noticeable by the evening that both Elrond and Elros are exhausted from the wrestle. As they sat by the meadow, Elrond's head began to loll to the side, eventually falling to Elmarë's shoulder.

Elros' eyes kept blinking rapidly as he forced himself to wake, ever the cautious one. He was struggling to accept that he was in the care of the sons of Fëanor, constantly feeling cautious and afraid.

Elmarë knew this; of course, she was who raised them since they were a babe. She stroke her brothers' head softly, knowing that soon, they will move to the sons of Fëanor's fortress, Amon Ereb.

She lifted Elrond and Elros and positioned them to sit on her lap, their backs leaning by her arms. Elmarë kissed their brows, eyes filled with bliss, but fear too, fearing what may come to them in the future. She was afraid of what may come of her brothers, and if it meant that staying with Maedhros and Maglor to keep them safe, then she will do so.

"Muinthel?" Sister? Elros asked sleepily, shifting to face his loving sister. Elmarë hummed, "Hmm?"

A hopeful glimmer appeared on Elros' grey eyes, "Do you think nana and ada will take us away from here?" Mother and Father.