silverstar, the silmarillion

xvii. the angel

Elmarë laughed joyfully as she pulled Elrond and Elros to dance with her under the tree's shade. Until the sounds of marching elves distracted her.

She furrowed her brows and released the twins' hands as she walked over to the fortress' gate. Maedhros, fully clothed in his armor, was riding his great steed, the very one which she rode six years ago, leading a small legion of Ñoldorin elves.

As he rode away, she felt Maglor's presence arrived beside her. Sensing her confusion of why Maedhros looked ready to have war, he informed her, "Maedhros is riding to Hallerin to aid the King of the Angels, King Canëhtar, of which we would follow once Prince Celethtár is fully healed."

"Hallerin? The Valley of the Angels?"

"Yes," a new voice stated. It was Celethtár as he limped towards them, "my home. The Valleys of the Angels, of Dragon-riders."

"Dragons?" Elmarë questioned. She smiled as she watched Celethtár speaking about his hometown. Her smile fell when she remembered her own home, eaten, by the fire of rage.

Her silver eyes, reliving the terror of when Maedhros unleashed his wrath upon the Havens. Maglor noticed, no doubt, and gave her an apologetic glance, prompting her to shake her head, smiling thinly.

Celethtár remained unknowing, and answered her question earnestly, delighted to speak about his kingdom, "Yes, mighty dragons that protected the Kingdom, with metal skin and fiery breath, that rained its fire upon our foes."

His voice lowered, frowning, he informed her, "But their riders had fallen ill, including my father. It seemed that the illness only attacked those who are pure angels, excluding my mother and I, for we are of Celair Valad-dir's descent, who was half-elf."

"And for this reason, my father called for the House of Fëanor's aid, as they did at the time of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad."

...

Elmarë sat on the tree branch that overlooked the forest beyond Amon Ereb. It was beautiful outside, but dangerous. She hummed a tune, her legs swaying along with the cold breeze as it dangled from where she sat.

She heard grunting, as Celethtár appeared, his forehead creased in irritation. He sat harshly on the land of where her tree stood on, his winged back leaning against the trunk.

"Celethtár," Elmarë called softly. She could see that Celethtár had flinched prior to turning his back to sight her on the tree.

"Forgive me, it was not in my intention to startle you," she apologized. He made a dismissive gesture, not rudely, as he sighed. Elmarë jumped from the branch and took a seat at Celethtár's side.

"What is the matter?"

"All I want is to help my father, but now, that I have acquired these injuries, I will have to wait a little longer," said he, unconsciously wrapping his dark wings around him like how she used to with her arms when Maedhros first took her in.

"But you did," Elmarë stated gently, searching his eyes grey eyes that seemed like an endless sea of emotions. Celethtár grew uncomfortable at the sharp eyes and broke the contact, whispering as his eyes landed on Elrond and Elros reading their books nearby, "I did?"

"You came here to seek Maedhros' aid, did you not? And at this moment, he and his legion are marching towards Hallerin. You are helping your people, Celethtár. It does not mean that you have to fight in the frontlines when you are injured," her soft voice ran.

He chuckled at her, "You are a great one, Elmarë."

Then comfortable silence reigned. They were quiet in tranquility, as they watched the breeze showered the trees nearby, the sound of Elrond and Elros' laughter as they abandoned their books to chase each other, and the beautiful albeit sorrowful melody of harp that echoed from Maglor's quarters.

...

"Elrond!" whined Elros.

But Elrond stayed quiet, still in his mid-movements of hanging Elros' book out of reach, his eyes narrowed as he observed his sister and the newcomer, Celethtár.

"Elro—" he tried again.

But Elros was interrupted as Elrond silently slapped his hand over his brother's mouth, before withdrawing it with disgust as Elros, with a twinkle in his eyes, licked his hand, prompting Elrond to wipe it at his twin's garment.

Elros laughed, which quickly drowned as he finally saw what Elrond see. He tilted his head as he watched Nésa laughed at something Celethtár had said and crinkled his nose, both in distaste and confusion.

What is happening to Nésa?

They were too struck at the scene to notice Maglor approaching until his hands landed on their shoulders. They flinched, startled, before Maglor asked quietly, "Beautiful, is it not?"

Both Elrond and Elros shook their heads forthright, their black hair swinging as slight frowns painted their faces, their grey eyes trailing back to their sister, sitting below her favorite tree, her hand fiddling with the grass underneath, a soft smile etched onto her pink lips as she listened to the angel speaking.

All Maglor did was smile wistfully, the past playing through his eyes, "They reminded me of the days when I was at Valinor. Young, and free of the weight that I now carry."