silverstar, the silmarillion

xi. a new star

It has been a while from when since Elmarë and her brothers first stepped foot to Amon Ereb, and the lessons were starting. Nérmehtar, their tutor, was hovering over their shoulders as they learn Quenya, Elrond, and Elros the language, and Elmarë the Tengwar script.

He tsked as he surveyed Elmarë's writings, and corrected the script, "Elmarë, what you are writing there is, 'Órenya quéta nin,' and what I asked you to write is 'Órenya quetë nin.'" my heart speaks and my heart tells me

Elmarë made a soft noise of distress, then rewrote the mistaken quote below the incorrect, while consoling to her tutor, inquiring, "But it means the same, does it not?"

Nérmehtar smiled faintly at the young nís, and answered somberly, "Aye, it does, but other incorrect scripts can lead to misunderstanding, young nís. Would you want that?"

She shook her head, knowing that even minor misunderstanding could lead to war, which she would certainly avoid. Nérmehtar then snapped his head to stare at Elrond, questioning, "Elrond, list the cardinal orders of numbers to ten."

Elrond threw a glance to the ceiling, hoping to memorize all as he should, and began recalling the orders, "Minya, attëa, nelya, cantëa, lempëa, enquëa, otsëa, toldëa, nertëa, quai—quain—" he faltered. First, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth

"Quainëa," Nérmehtar corrected. He nodded sheepishly and repeated, "Quainëa." Tenth

"Elros, who is she?" asked Nérmehtar, gesturing towards Elmarë. Elros stayed quiet, trying to remember the sentence that his tutor had taught him at the prior hour, then grinned when he did so, "Elmarë nésya nas." Elmarë is my sister

Their tutor clapped his hands together, then dismissed them, "You are dismissed. You are allowed to do... whatever children do." The twins jumped from their chairs and immediately bolted to the door.

Elmarë watched on her brothers, chuckling with an amused twinkle in her eyes, then redirected her sight to Nérmehtar, quipping, "Are you always this way?" Said elf rose his brow in question, and suddenly, he seemed as if he were a different person.

She elaborated, "Bright?"

His bright green eyes dimmed as he sat on his chair, his hand neatly folded on the table. Nérmehtar shook his head, his long dark hair swaying and as he rose his eyes to Elmarë, he looked weary. He smiled thinly, albeit, a bit bitterly, "Nay. I am old, young nís, I have faced dragons and balrogs, wars and battles."

"You fought at the Nírnaeth Arnoediad?" Elmarë exclaimed in awe, slipping into the seat across Nérmehtar's.

She saw memories fly past Nérmehtar's green eyes and saw the fire and terror in it. He took a sharp breath, and pursued his lips, "It is not to be awed, little nís, to fight at a war. I have seen, one by one, the High King Fingon, my sister, Delyamîr, fell. The great enemy will not rest for long, and soon I feel a war coming."

...

Elmarë stared at the dark blanket of the sky with Elrond and Elros as they laid their back on the ground. This night felt different to her as if something great had happened. She wondered what had occurred, as even her brothers were shifting around, as though they were uneasy.

Her bright silver eyes squinted as they fell on a new bright form in the sky, an unfamiliar star that has never been there before. She flinched in alarm when footsteps and Maglor's voice were heard.

"Maitimo!" called Maglor, causing Elmarë to furrow her brows.

Maitimo?

She turned her head slightly to the left, where Maglor's voice was coming from. Maedhros then came, and started whispering with his brother, prompting Elmarë to sit on the grass with curiosity, hearing bits of their whispered conversation.

"Surely that is now the Silmaril?" asked Maglor his eyes adverting from the new star to Maedhros' eyes, only to take a sharp intake of breath. Maedhros stared intensely at the star, the oath burning heavily upon his heart, struggling to keep control of his mind, from the terrible oath he made, he so mistakenly made...

Maglor knew that the Oath had taken over his brother, he knew, that those weren't his brother's eyes, they were sharp, hostile, and filled with madness. No, that wasn't his beloved brother. He was Maedhros the kinslayer, the Dispossessed.

It was terrifying for Maglor, to witness his brother that way, and he gently, albeit cautiously, shook Maedhros' shoulder, and when he did, Maedhros shuddered, and the sinister eyes cleared to his normal dark blue.

"Aye, 'tis beyond our reach," Maedhros said quietly after an uncomfortable pause. Maglor glanced at his brother, but then, his eyes narrowed, and he asked, "What of Elwing's children? We shan't keep them as hostages to bargain with as our father's Silmaril is truly lost to us now."

"Bring them to Gil-galad," Maedhros curtly said.

"Why?" The word felt bitter to his tongue, as though not willing to say so. He continued, while purposely switching to Sindarin, "Why? This is the only other place they have known, since the Havens, and we have taken them from their home before, they are children, Russandol, and not to be tossed around in places and others unknown to them."

Maedhros winced involuntarily, it had been long since he was called as so, Russandol. And he knew that Maglor was genuinely not pleased.

"The Oath, I am afraid that will I hurt them, Maglor," he expressed, lowering his voice. Maglor stared at his hands, bloodstained by blood of all those that he had slain, a hint of guilt in his eyes as he murmured, his tone softened, "We won't. It has never hurt one of us."

Maedhros sighed, he knew his brother was longing for another to love, he knew, as they were his brothers too, the brothers they lost, Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod and Amras were. He spoke, softly but sternly, "I will allow you to keep them, but when the Oath—"

"We will keep them away from it," Maglor interrupted, diverting his eyes away to the Peredhil siblings.

The twins by now had crawled up their sister's lap, staring at the Sons of Fëanor, with fear. They knew how they could be, but they still wanted to stay here, not sent away from Amon Ereb. And while not entirely fond of the elves that had taken them hostage, they didn't want to be sent to the unknown.

"Maglor?" Elrond called weakly from Elmarë's lap. She bristled when two sharp eyes snapped to her brother. Maglor's eyes warmed at Elrond's frightened gaze, and he walked from the hallway to join them on the grass, crouching to their level, though his blue eyes narrowed at his brother.

"Yes, little one?" He asked softly.

"You will not send us away will you?" it was Elros who asked, startling everyone. Maglor recovered and smiled warmly at the child, "No, you will stay with us, we won't send you away."

"You promise?" Elrond asked meekly. Maglor smiled then patted his head, hefting Elrond up from Elmarë's lap, pointing at the new star he said, "I promise. Now, do you want to see the new star there?