silverstar, the silmarillion

x. sons of fëanor

Elmarë was quiet, starring off in a distance from where she sat cross-legged, wherever she was. Her cheeks were tear-stained, her silver eyes shone with unshed tears, and a red nose. She knew and felt that someone had come near her, but Elmarë ignored it.

She only glanced briefly when the son of Fëanor sat on the ground beside her, following her example of staring off to a distance. She asked, her fingers absentmindedly fiddling with a white flower she had picked from the ground, "Have you ever feel alone?"

Maedhros was quiet for a moment, before he mused shortly, "I have."

"It was my fault," said Elmarë suddenly. "It was my fault that Gilithdol was killed."

"What does that mean?" Maedhros asked briskly. She looked at Maedhros from the corners of her eyes and stared at the sky, her eyes watering once more, spoke in a croaky voice from the tears that she had shed, "If I am fast enough, she wouldn't be killed."

He tried, "Why do you fault yourself?" He tried questioning her, that it wasn't her fault. "Did you led her to harm's way? Did she fault you?" he pressed, knowing the answer. She shook her head weakly, as a tear fell from her eye.

A flash of Gilithdol's bleak grey eyes fleeted past her eyes, and Elmarë felt the dread and horror. She sometimes dreamed, that Gilithdol hated her, for not saving her from the edge of death, for she died to shield her from harm's way.

Elmarë was silent, and Maedhros knew that he had won. Though he felt the irony of his own statement. He still blamed himself for Fingon's death, Miralyaen's and Eluréd and Elurín's. He sometimes impugned his owns actions and felt himself sinking in guilt for the deaths it had caused.

He stood, offering her his left hand, "Come, ere our brothers, search for us."

Elmarë laughed weakly, she knew how worried the twins would be if she were to be missing. She took Maedhros' offered hand and grimaced when she could feel the scar that she had produced back at Sirion.

She felt guilty, and thus, expressed, "I apologize for... injuring your left hand." He glanced down at her, face stoic of any emotion, then he walked, his head straight, looking forward, "Your actions are justified. You were scared, and have the need to protect your brothers."

When they were back, they had found Maglor and Elrond at the twins' bedroom, both Elrond and Elros hugging as the dark-haired son of Fëanor looked upon them with a smile.

...

Elrond's body was wracking with sobs as Maglor gently hugged him, his tears soaking Maglor's tunic. He kept shushing Elrond and humming a soothing tune while stroking Elrond's hair.

"Do you wish to tell me?" Maglor asked the child that was wrapped in his arms. Elrond glanced up, his grey eyes misty from all the tears and the sadness.

"Everyone hates me," Elrond's mouth ran. He didn't mean to say it, but it felt as if that everyone hates him.

The son of Fëanor jumped, startled, and surprised, that the child felt as so. None should feel as so, that everyone hates them. "Do not be ridiculous," said Maglor, his mind running as he tried to find words to comfort the six-year-old elfling, "No one hates you, Elrond."

Maglor feels pity for the young half-elven cradled in his arms, along with Elrond's siblings. They were young and were already exposed to grief, loss, and longing; expressions that a child should have not to experience. He felt guilty, for he was a part of what had torn the children from their family.

Upset and feeling cold, Elrond's grey eyes watered once more, producing tears that gushed from his eyes alike that of a fountain, dripping down to trail down on his cheeks then dropped to Maglor's tunic. "Yes! Elros doesn't love me anymore, Muinthel is always sad, Nana left us, and Maedhros ignored us!"

Maglor jumped the slightest bit, and questioned the Peredhel softly, "Why would you think Elros doesn't love you anymore?" Elrond glanced at him, wiping his eyes, and mumbled miserably, "He said so! And he shoved me and was always angry at me!"

He shook his head, pressing his cheek to the child's dark-haired head in a soothing manner, "Your brother and sister doesn't hate you, Elrond, not even my brother. They are sad, and sometimes when they do, they say things that they do not meant ."

"Truly? Even Elros?" asked the child.

"Truly," Maglor hummed. But Elrond glanced at him with his grey eyes and asked a question that made him stilled, "But Nana? Why did she left us?"

He stilled, his eyes shut in guilt, he doesn't know that he was who pursued Elwing to her doom, who pursued her to jump with the Silmaril upon her breast. He doesn't know, they don't. "N-no, your parents left to do something important."

"Something more important than me, Elros, and Muinthel?"

Maglor cursed the nature of innocence of the child, and supplied, "Yes, they need to make the world a better place for you, Elros, and your sister—" That was a lie, his traitorous mind voiced. It was not entirely a lie, Eärendil had left long before they came to search for the Blessed Land, to ask for the aim of the Valar to fight against Morgoth. "Now, Elrond, you need to make amends with your brother, for when no one was there, he will be there."

"Will he be still angry at me?" asked Elrond shakily.

"I do not believe he has a reason to be so," was all Maglor said, before he left the bathroom, Elrond holding his hand, walking to where Elros was, their bedroom.

...

"Elros?" Called Elrond in a small voice, his head peeking by the threshold, searching for his brother's mop of dark hair.

They found Elros hugging himself for comfort at the corner of the bed, and Maglor echoed what Elrond had said, "Elros."

"I'm sorry," rushed Elros. "I'm sorry for shoving you, I was upset that you like the enemy; that you like Maglor and Maedhros." He reached his arms to Elrond and hugged him, relief shining in his eyes for not holding the regret that he had prior and that his brother forgived him.

Maglor smiled, remembering times when he would be in the same predicament with his brothers when Maedhros and Elmarë entered the room.

Elmarë glanced at her younger brothers, and a smile bloomed on her face when Elros threw himself at her, apologizing for his late actions and accusations, stating that he loves her, as Elrond joined the hug later.

Elmarë's eyes crinkled as she smiled, and turned her head to glimpse at her aloof red-headed captor, and was surprised to see him smile lightly, his eyes dancing in memory, as she and her brothers hug.