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The western horizon was clear tonight. Across the water was Araman. Even from there, it was a long way home.
Telyo knew he was looking back more than anyone else – a lot more. He’d stopped caring. Ambarussa had tried to talk to him about it earlier. It hadn’t gone well. Seeing his twin trying not to panic as he voiced his thoughts had somehow made it much worse.
Someone joined him at the ship’s rail, and he tensed. It was Macalaure.
‘I’ll skip the comments about what a clear evening it is, and how we should be there by tomorrow,’ said Macalaure.
‘Thank you.’
‘You and Pityo argued earlier.’
‘I was there, funnily enough.’
‘He didn’t send me to talk to you. I’m here only representing myself.’
‘Fine,’ said Telyo.
There was a long silence. The way Macalaure leant so carelessly against the rail drew his attention – he tried not to let it, but it did. They all walked across the deck, threw open hatches and helped run out sails, all of them, as if it was nothing. As if they couldn’t remember the people cutting each other down, heaving bodies into the water, over the very rail Macalaure leant on. Bodies of both Noldor and Teleri (people who had pushed him back to protect him, people who wanted to cut him apart). And they all walked around as if they couldn’t remember. As if there had been no Doom, no fury of the sea taking even more people as they sailed away.
And now Macalaure had come to talk to him again – to try and help him. And he’d been good enough to skip the small talk. Suddenly Telyo wanted to laugh but he was afraid to.
‘You two don’t argue often,’ Macalaure pointed out.
‘Don’t we?’ said Telyo. Go away. Why are you here, what’s the point – a flash of anger hit and he snapped – ‘a lot of things have happened recently that don’t happen often – or hadn’t you noticed? Tell me about what a clear night it is again, Kano, I’d love to hear.’
‘All I wanted to say,’ said Macalaure, evenly, ‘is that you have five other brothers, and all of them care about you, Telyo. If you want to talk, you know where we are. And I’ll listen.’
You don’t want to listen, Telyo thought, unable to look his brother in the eye. You think you do, but you won’t like what you hear. He wanted to pour it out, all of it.
Instead he looked back at the western horizon. And what could you do about it, Kano? Who can help us now, even if they wanted to? ‘I’ll keep it in mind,’ he said, not turning around.
He heard Macalaure leave, as his insides churned. Traitor, coward, faithless son, heartless brother, deserter.
*****
Some shook with fear – Tyelkormo shook more with adrenaline. Huan was tense beside him, as they prepared for their first battle in Beleriand.
Maitimo was busy – he was making sure he was busy. Curvo was silent, and apparently calm – but when Tyelkormo called his name it was several seconds before he looked up. Safer to avoid Carnistir – he was trying to make himself angry. And Pityo…well.
Macalaure approached, carrying another bundle of arrows – which he held out. ‘Good hunting,’ he said.
‘Right. This is exactly like hunting,’ said Tyelkormo.
‘Well, not in the sense you’ll have to go looking for them.’
‘The deer don’t usually shoot back. Don’t pretend this is normal and safe, do you think I’m a child?’
‘Tyelko, I’m handing my brother arrows to defend himself against monsters. What part of that is safe?’ Macalaure snapped.
‘I don’t need any more arrows, I have as many as I can carry. You came here to lecture me to make yourself feel better.’
A shadow crossed his face as Macalaure opened his mouth to give a scathing denial…then he shrugged, face twisting into a grim smile. ‘I suppose. I’m not sure I even planned it that clearly. I’ve no idea what to say to make either of us feel better about this.’
There was an awkward silence. When he couldn’t stand it any more – which was after about twenty seconds – Tyelkormo pushed the bundle of arrows back into Macalaure’s chest. ‘They’ll only get in the way here.’
‘I don’t think you’re a child.’
‘Wh…good!’
‘I know it’s not going to be like hunting. But you’re still the best horseman, and the best shot. I know you’re not stupid…it’s not you I’m worried about.’
‘Go talk to Pityo then,’ said Tyelkormo, stomach clenching as he remembered the look in his little brother’s eyes.
‘Already did,’ said Macalaure, grimly. Tyelkormo looked away. I don’t want to talk about it. I’m scared there’s nothing we can do for him.
The silence was so cold that Huan began to growl softly. ‘Stop it,’ Tyelkormo snapped, making the dog jump. But he stopped. Tyelkormo laid a hand on his huge head in silent apology. ‘Go watch Pityo for us. Make sure…’ he couldn’t articulate what he wanted. For a moment he didn’t think the dog was going to do it. But his huge brown eyes fixed on him for a moment – then Huan walked out.
‘Fine,’ said Macalaure, watching him go with a distant expression.
‘Yes,’ said Tyelkormo, suddenly feeling empty.
After some time, he took the bundle of arrows from his brother’s arms. He still didn’t need them, they were just going to lie in the tent, but… ‘I’ll be careful. Make sure you are too,’ he said.
‘I’m always careful. I’m the careful one,’ said Macalaure, not looking back as he walked off.
*****
‘I’ll do it,’ Maglor said. The sky was turning red. ‘It’s been more than a day. Say what you need to, and I’ll bury him.’
Maedhros lifted the sheet from Amrod’s body, and touched his red hair for the last time. After that, he found he couldn’t say anything at all – what would he say?
He let the sheet drop, and walked away.
The sunset, the blood, Pityo’s hair, his own – he tried squeezing his eyes shut, tried forcing is mind to sleep so that it would stop…at the same time knowing it wouldn’t. Maybe shouldn’t.
His sleep was light and fitful, and his mind kept working – exhausted, but unable to stop turning memories over and over, unable to keep away from the open wounds – until he’d jerk awake.
A few hours into the night, he woke with a deep shudder of terror, afraid he’d finally lost control of his own mind – he had dreamed of blood, and red hair, and ships on fire until he thought he was burning and woke and could still smell smoke.
Pushing his way out of the tent, he could still smell it – and there was a light on the hillside.
He knew, before he reached Maglor’s side, what this was. His last brother stood stock still, watching the flames of the pyre – of course that’s what it was – in complete silence.
‘You said you were going to bury him,’ Maedhros observed, without condemnation.
Maglor said nothing, didn’t take his eyes off the fire that was consuming Pityo’s body. Together, they stood in silence until the fire died.