silverstar, the silmarillion

vi. amon ereb

Maedhros stared at the children that were at bliss by the grass. He had seen then when Elmarë's facade broke when her little brother, Elros, asked whether Elwing and Eärendil will take them away. He had seen, when those silver eyes so often showed sadness.

He pitied them. Truly.

He felt a happy childhood when Fëanor hadn't created the Silmarils, with his 6 brothers, and loving parents. Now they were gone, because of the Oath they swore so blindly. He—

And hand landed on his shoulder, and Maglor came beside him. He was watching the siblings solemnly and Maedhros knew, that his brother was relieving the life they lived at Valinor.

He turned towards the corner, where the wagon that held the Ambarussa was. Maedhros started walking towards the wagon, his face a perfect mask of blankness, Maglor following quietly behind him, his head bowed in grief.

Maedhros stared at his youngest brothers unmoving bodies. They were still young then, when they first swore the Oath when they first slew the people of Olwë, the people of Alqualondë.

He shook his head, then spoke quietly to his only brother left, "Maglor, we are leaving to Amon Ereb by dawn. Prepare the horses."

He quickly left, then walked over to Elmarë, who was still sitting on the grass, her brothers cuddled to her side, "Elmarë, we are leaving to Amon Ereb by dawn." He lowered his head and commanded her, "Sleep."

As Maedhros swept past her, Elmarë furrowed her brows, bewildered. Did he just command her to sleep? She stared after his furthering back as she stood, Elrond and Elros asleep by her hip, heads lolling to her shoulders.

Entering the tent, Elmarë bumped into Maglor, who was still grieving after visiting his little brothers' corpses. She offered a quiet, "Good night."

He didn't reply, just watched as she tucked both Elrond and Elros into the makeshift bed, in his eyes, a young Macalaurë tucking Amrod and Amras into their bed, a gentle smile stretched upon Macalaurë's lips.

The memory soon faded, and Elmarë's concerned face emerged as he was brought back to the future. She was looking at him, concerned, and finally, she walked to stand in front of him. Elmarë hesitated, then asked, "Are you fine?"

Maglor glanced down at her, confused. Elmarë slowly brought her hand to his cheek, wiping a glistening tear that he had not noticed he'd shed. He had been crying? He jumped away almost violently, making the half-elven flinch, a tinge of fear in her silver eyes.

"Forgive me. Good night," said he quietly, turning to exit the tent hurriedly. Elmarë stared after him, bewildered, that the sons of Fëanor were aloof. Maedhros usually was, but not Maglor.

...

"Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone—"

Elmarë stopped her singing, her eyes flickering worriedly towards Elrond and Elros who were oddly silent as they quietly chewed their lembas. She asked with concern, "Elrond, Elros, tell me what is the matter."

Suddenly, Elrond's lips began to quiver and he burst into tears, "Nana and Ada do not love us! If they do, we will be by their side by now!"

Elmarë's eyes widened, and she rushed to hug him, pulling Elros along. She asked quietly, "Why do you think so?"

Elrond sniffed then glanced at his sister, "B-because they were never there. It was always you, Muinthel. You were there and played with us, you were there and sung to us. B-but that is fine, because y-you and E-Elros are en-enough."

"Do not weep now, brother," Elmarë smiled, and stroked away Elrond's tears, and kissed her brothers each. Maedhros neared, his hand on the hilt of his sword, and Elrond hastily brushed his tears, tensing, Elros as well.

The eldest son of Fëanor frowned at them, before his face turned emotionless, and ordered, "Come, now. We are leaving."

...

They arrived at Amon Ereb by evening. Elmarë gazed at the fortress curiously, as she descended Maedhros' steed. Maedhros was pleased that the fortress was enough so that both Elrond and Elros can't escape, who had been caught attempting several times.

He turned sideways, then guided her through the halls, to a room that was located two doors by his room. He opened the door and entered the bedroom.

It was already filled with bookshelves that contained books of history of the Ñoldor, and lightly decorated walls, with hanging banners of the House of Fëanor, and oddly enough, the House of the Golden Flower, a House that should've stayed within the hidden city of Gondolin, and fell at the Fall of Gondolin in FA 510.

His eyes fell solemn as he gazed into the room, creating confusion and curiosity at Elmarë. She circled the room, then gently laid her satchel down, peering at Maedhros expectantly.

He gestured stiffly for her to follow him, and he led them in the direction of Elros and Elrond's room, which was not too far from her's when two blurs of black passed by.

Maglor led them to an empty room, only decorated with a bed, closet, and nightstand. "This is your room, Elrond, Elros." He moved towards the door lock, to check whether it works or not.

"Who lives in that room?" Elros pointed toward a door far by the corner. Maglor advised, "That is Maedhros' room. I suggest you do not seek there. And that is my room, just knock and I will answer you. Or scream."

Elrond asked quietly, "Muinthel Elmarë?" Sister Elmarë?

The taller elf spun, and felt his insides jumped with shock as he saw Maedhros leading Elmarë to a specific room, "T-That is your sister's room." He finally managed to open the door, and gestured the twins to enter.

Elros surveyed around the room, uneasy that he and his brother were separated from Elmarë, then scrunched his nose. Pointing in the way towards the closed window, he asked, "Maglor, can't the window be opened? The air does not smell pleasant."

Maglor tried the lever of the window, but it seemed to be stuck. He pushed the window several times until it finally opened. He breathed the clear air outside, breezing past his face. "You need not worry, I assure you, the smell will be gone," he assured the twins.

Turning to face them, he was met with an empty room. Maglor pinched the bridge of his nose and hastily left the room to search for the brothers, hopefully before Maedhros found them.

As he was about to walk past the threshold, Maedhros was there, Elmarë scowling at his brother as Elrond and Elros were thrown over each of his shoulders. "Brother. Is the lock working?"

"Lock? Why would you need a lock?" Elmarë questioned.

"Because your brothers were always trying to escape. Do you want them to be tied with a rope by their wrists?" Maedhros curtly asked.

She flinched, rapidly shaking her head. Elmarë walked over to the cabinet and opened the doors, where a cloud of dust emerged thickly.

She coughed badly, the dust was thick, and to Elmarë it ambushed her face. "It seems to need to be dusted," Maglor remarked, sounding faintly amused. Elmarë glared at the son of Fëanor for finding amusement in her predicament.

...

"Maedhros," Maglor began, "why did you lead Elmarë to Miralyaen's room?"

Maedhros breathed deeply, and placed his face in his hand, "I know not. It just feels, that it is the right action to do. It was as if Mir-Miraly—" he stuttered over the name, "she told me to do so."

Maglor listened to his brother silently, then warned him, "I warn you, Maedhros, Elmarë is a curious and intelligent elf, and she will soon find out who lived in that room before her."