Chapter Text
He paused briefly as he followed Thannor into the clearing. His men were finishing off the last of the orcs that they had been tracking when he saw her. She stood (barely) at the center of the clearing, sword held out in front of her, pointed towards three of his men that stood staring at her curiously, like some feral animal that they had finally cornered and were now at a loss on what to do next. She was covered in blood, not all hers, and was losing color by the second. She would not be standing much longer. In truth, he could not figure out how she was still standing now. Anytime anyone made any kind of motion towards her the sword was quickly thrust in that direction.
"She brought down two herself," said Thannor, "and wounded another before we arrived. But now she will not let any of us near her."
He glanced at her again. Her hair was matted and wet and stuck to her face and neck. And her eyes. Even as she struggled to keep them focused he could see the blind rage that burned in them. Rage and adrenaline is what kept her up now and that was quickly failing. He felt himself grow impatient and made the decision to simply walk up and take the sword out of her hand when he saw it.
As he moved, she whipped the blade in his direction and placed her wild eyed stare on him. It was in that one quick movement that he caught a quick glimpse of why she was still alive. Just a flash really, of dark hair and wide eyes that barely met her knees. Small and frail and for her invaluable, a child of, perhaps two, maybe three. He turned back to Thannor.
"I know" said Thannor. "We found the body of another young boy, barely to manhood further back. He had fought but was run through and died of his wounds."
He nodded and waved his hand. He knew what the Enemy did to those they caught. He did not need to hear more. He turned back to the woman in front of him and felt a slight twinge in his chest. It still happened to him from time to time. Empathy. He could see and feel her pain even more clearly now. He knew of loss. Inwardly he sighed.
"Get back" he ordered.
The three soldiers who had been pondering their next move immediately moved back to the tree line to assist their brothers in the cleanup, happy to hand over the situation. She jerked at the movement of the other soldiers, unsure where to point and settled back on him since he still stared at her. As their eyes locked again, she wobbled slightly but still held the sword between them. Inwardly, he sighed again.
As he began to approach her a few of his men stopped to watch. While they were curious about this woman who had managed on her own to bring down several goblins and possibly wounded another, they would continue to be at the ready for their lord. For them it meant that she was not to be underestimated. When he came to a few feet between them, he lowered his sword slowly to the ground in front of her and raised his empty left hand in to the air, his right arm he extended out but remained draped under is cloak. She swayed back and forth, eyes struggling to stay focused. Pain and anguish came off of her in waves, but it was kept in check by a rage that seemed to burn everything else away. Pain, anguish, rage.
Yes, yes he thought dismissively, it comes to us all. Her journey is no different. She will accept it or she will die.
He gestured to her and spoke.
"Lyé ná mala", he said.
She froze.
"Ní vanda uimala nalye."
She blinked at him in confusion. Although he knew she would not understand, he spoke in Quenya, for he knew the language of his people was sometimes like music to the second born and may be soothing to her ear.
"Mapa camba-nya" he said softly, reaching his hand out to her.
With each word he spoke, he saw her strength began to slowly ebb away. Her eyes never left his, and therefore, he saw the exact moment when she went from the edge of madness, to a sort of hopelessness, and finally surrender. With a loud exhale of breath, her arms fell to her side and her shoulders slumped, sword dangling limp from her hand. He caught her before she ever had the chance to fall to her knees.
Seems there is more than one person who can use their voice he thought, quite satisfied with himself.
In one fluid movement he scooped her up and carried her over to Thannor. While Thannor bundled her up and prepared to ride, he turned his gaze back to the clearing and looked at the tiny figure that was staring back at him. If he had not known that the child was back there he could have been missed among the dead carcasses that had been piled up to burn. The child did not move, only stared wide eyed from behind a tear streaked face, obviously in shock. He did not expect any form of resistance, but still he did not want to distress the lapsë anymore.
Lapsë? You are becoming as soft as your brother.
The little pile of tears and dirt with the saucer eyes stared at him, waiting.
Another child, he thought wryly, Macalaurë will be so pleased.
He turned his mind back to the task at hand and went to the nearest horse and pulled a spare cloak from a saddle bag. He then walked over to the child and knelt down before him. Wrapping him up in the blanket and gently lifting him up, he cradled in his arm and studied the little face with the large eyes that stared up at him.
Young, so young.
There did not seem to be any major physical harm done. Aside from some minor scratches and bruising, he felt that physically, the child would be fine. Again he thought about shock and handed to child over to one of his men and ordered Thannor to personally see that the babe and his mother were taken care of. He did not know if the mother would live but would do what he could. In these dark times there was not much more he could do. And regardless of what was said, he was not so far gone that he would not help those in need.
After Thannor had ridden off he turned back to the clearing and retrieved his sword. His men were dragging the last of the filth to the center and prepared to light the fires. There was a time when he had thought that he would burn them all. He had truly believed that a long time ago. Those days were gone now but he would never stop hunting the beasts and the fire is the least of what they deserved.
No, he would never stop hunting them.
They had tracked this party of orcs almost all the way to the river Gelion. They were growing bold to come so close to his camp at Amon Ereb. He made the mental note to increase the watch all the way past the river if necessary. He walked over to the orc that the woman had killed. Or at least what was left of the orc, for its head had been cleaved in repeatedly. It was nothing more than a pile of mush, bone, stench and black blood now. Thannor had reported that she had still been hacking away at it when his men rode up.
A mother's rage.
The second orc made some sort of gurgling noise and he gave it a sideways glance. Ah, still alive are we, he thought. He grabbed the orc by the leg and dragged it over to the rest of the pile of filth before them. He turned to the men that were now standing by with torches.
"Dosta hain pân."
The fire lit up the night as it began its work. Yes, burn them all.
"My lord Maedhros."
A voice from behind pulled him from his thoughts and he turned to see one of his men emerging from the dark carrying a smaller, carefully wrapped figure.
A mother's loss.
He stood and looked at the figure that his man held gently in his arms.
"He fought hard, my lord. I regret that we could not get there sooner."
Maedhros's mouth tightened oh so slightly when the elf said regret. How he loathed that word.
"We shall return him to his mother. He will receive a burial in accordance to his people's customs."
With that, he mounted his horse, and with the rest of his company, disappeared into the dark.
She heard nothing but the constant ring in her ears, high pitched and piercing. Almost like a scream. Or was that her? She could not tell anymore. The pain from her chest sent out waves of heat that seemed to cover every inch of her body. She could no longer see straight and it was painful to focus. It did not matter. She no longer wanted focus anyway. Her son was gone, she just wanted it to end. She had failed her children. It was over and if they wanted to kill her then they could. She just wished they would stop standing there and do something. She thought they were men but could not tell. Something was running in to her eyes making it even hard for her to focus. And that damn ringing in her ears only seemed to get louder. The heat in her limbs seemed to be subsiding though. Unfortunately now she was becoming acutely aware of the cold. She gripped the sword tighter and hoped she did not start trembling. If they were to die tonight it would not be quietly.
Maglor looked over the new accommodations of the sleeping woman before him. She seemed to be resting somewhat more peacefully now, for the moment anyway. There was some slight color back in her cheeks and her breathing was slow and steady. And she was even having moments of semi-consciousness, although those were difficult and brought on by nightmares. She still had a long road to travel with her recovery though and he knew it would not be easy. He looked at the bandages that covered her throat and wondered if it would affect her speech. It would most certainly scar. Yes, she had a very long road ahead of her. But that was not the reason why he had her moved into the keep and into the room that had previously been Maedhros's study.
He laid the plate of food he was holding down on the floor in front of the bed and then stepped back and waited. Only a few moments went by before a little hand appeared and slowly pulled the plate under the bed. Maglor smiled slightly and reached behind him for a chair to sit and wait. He took the plate relatively quickly for having his environment upended again. He felt it was a good sign. Elrond and Elros would be pleased to hear this for they had taken a great interest in the boy once they learned he was here and were concerned that the move may have hurt his progress in some way.
He settled himself into a chair next to the bed to wait and allowed his mind to drift to the time when the twins had first come to him, begging him to intervene.
"He will not speak."
"He will not eat."
"He just sits there - "
" -staring!"
"He responds to nothing and hides from everyone."
"He is wasting away Maglor, you must help him!"
"You will help him."
"Please?"
"Please."
Maglor had sat at his study, chin resting in his hands as his eyes moved back and forth between the two as they spoke. They had rehearsed for this one. When they had finished, he did not move but studied them more closely.
They had grown much since they were brought here. They looked to be almost twelve years old now but it was hard for Maglor to tell. The rate at which they matured was completely unknown to him as he had never known peredhil before, much less raised one. It was a learning experience for them all.
When they had first arrived they were inseparable and so much alike that he had gotten them confused quite often. But now, the individual was starting to come out. Elros is excitable, adventurous and easily distracted whereas Elrond is calmer, careful and focused on his studies.
With a deep sigh Maglor stood up from his desk and stared down at the twin faces that stared expectantly back at him. He would never get anything done anyway. Clasping his hands behind his back he slowly turned and walked towards the door. While Carnistir had spoken often of the potential of men, he never thought very highly of them. Not since Nirnaeth Arnoediad. He had experienced their propensity for treachery first hand and since then did not concern himself with their troubles. But this was just a child. And in his mind, a child's fëa is pure and free of taint and therefore worthy of saving. Maglor did not know if the edain could die from a broken heart but he was in no mood to find out now.
He turned back to look at them one more time. "Well?" he said. "Come along then." The boys smiled and jumped up after him.
And this is how it went every day for the last week and a half, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. A plate of food brought to the house of healing and left on the floor next to the bed of a wounded woman for the child that hid underneath it. When he was able to finally glimpse the boy he saw how thin and frail he was. Healer Hestil informed him on how unresponsive the child was. He was not eating and never left his mother's bed. He hardly slept and when he did finally pass out from exhaustion, sleep would be fitful and awakened with screams. They always left a candle burning for him because the dark would only bring out more weeping. Things would have to be taken very slowly.
The first few days consisted of the three of them arriving in the sick room to take their meals. They would set up across the room and lay a plate down on the floor at the foot of the bed. They would quietly talk of their day or the lessons for the day and carry on as they would normally. And for those first few days nothing happened that they could see. When they finished their meals they would gather up their things and make their way out of the room, leaving the full plate of food sitting on the floor where they set it. It was not till the end of that week that Maglor actually saw the child take the plate. As they gathered their things to go he caught some movement from the corner of his eye and saw a small hand emerge from under the bed to snatch a piece of fruit and retreat back into the dark.
This had pleased Elrond and Elros endlessly. They began to take their time more and started to bring parchment for reading after lunch and arrows to shape and fletch. But the first major breakthrough did not come till well into the second week after dinner, when Elros brought Maglor's harp.
This had taken him by surprise.
"I just thought that . . . well . . . if your music can make Maedhros smile . . ." he trailed off, uncertain now if had done the right thing. Elrond simply stared intently at Maglor from where he sat on the floor. Maglor recovered quickly and took the harp from Elros.
"Of course" he said. "Making Maedhros smile is no small measure."
Elros grinned and sat down across from his brother, giving him a look that quite literally shouted I told you so. If Elrond was bothered, he showed nothing. He simply stretched his long legs in from of him, crossing one foot over the other to wait.
Maglor settled himself in his chair with the harp and began to play. A playful tune at first, one of the first songs he learned as child. Something to make the twins smile. But as the night progressed and his fingers warmed up, the music became more intricate, more complex and the room almost seemed to become a dream. When Maglor finally stopped playing he realized he must have lost track of time, but no one seemed to mind. Elrond had leaned back against the wall with his hands behind his head and his eyes shut. Elros had lay completely on the floor, his head resting against Elrond's leg while Hestil stood in the corner wiping away tears.
And across the room and under the bed, a little face poked out from the dark space, his head resting in his hands where he lay on his stomach. Maglor set the harp down and went over to the twins nudging them gently.
"Come, to your rooms."
They very sleepily rose from where they sat and, almost like they were in a trance, bid him good night and left for their rooms. After they had left and Hestil had composed herself enough bid him goodnight too, he turned to where the little face still stuck out from under the bed regarding him quietly. After a moment he crossed over to the bed of the sleeping woman, knelt down and smiled.
The child never moved. He simply looked at Maglor with two very large, dark eyes, and smiled back.
The next morning they arrived as usual with their trays of food to find the child sitting at the table waiting for them. If the twins were surprised they gave away nothing. They simply set down the trays and started handing out plates of food for their breakfast. Hestil stood behind the child with a smile so wide it nearly split her face in two.
"He almost slept the whole night, my lord!" she very excitedly told Maglor. "Your presence has been magic!"
Unfortunately, that would be the last time she would feel that way. For while she was happy the child continued to make excellent progress, after several days of having three young boys bounding around the house of healing, Hestil had had enough.
"Forgive me but this is a house of HEALING, my lord" Hestil exclaimed, most exacerbated. "Patients need rest! Not very loud lessons on the game of snakes and stones! This just will not do, my lord, begging your pardon but it will not do!"
Maglor agreed. He was starting to grow a little weary of bring his meals out every day anyway. So he decided it would be best to move the boy and his mother into the main house. This is why he now found himself in what was formally Maedhros's study.
He chose Maedhros's study for two reasons. The first being that it was large and had a side room that led out to a courtyard area. This way he and the twins could continue to spend time with the child without disturbing his mother's recovery. The second and more important reason was that Maedhros was conveniently not here. And seeing as how all of this was thrust into his lap because his brother became soft over an edain child, he saw no reason why he should give up any of his rooms. Maedhros was hardly ever here anyway and would just have to accept it.
He winced slightly at the thought of Maedhros accepting it.
Oh well, he would handle it, he usually did. A light tug at his tunic pull Maglor from is thoughts. He looked down to see the child standing before him, empty plate in hand.
Well look who is out and about, he thought.
He smiled down at the boy as he took the plate and placed it on the nearby table. The boy looked cautiously about the room, occasionally casting Maglor an anxious glance here and there. Maglor let the boy roam freely, allowing him to become comfortable in his new surroundings. It was in that moment that he suddenly realized that he did not know the child's name. Almost two weeks and still no name. In fact he was not sure the child even knew his either. When the boy finally came back over to where Maglor stood, he knelt down before him.
"Do you have a name child?" he asked softly, almost in a whisper. The boy just stared at him and said nothing.
"I am Maglor" he said. "The two young boys outside are m-", he paused " . . . are Elrond and Elros." Still nothing from the boy. Maglor slowly reached out and lightly touched the child's hand. He did not take it, only initiated a light physical contact.
"You must not fear me. You and your mother are safe here. No harm will ever come to either of you while you are behind these walls. You must believe me. Do you understand?"
Maglor remained kneeling in front of him waiting to see if he would get a response. The boy's eyes moved from Maglor to his mother who stirred slightly in her bed. And then, in what seemed like an almost absentminded gesture, the child reached up and began to fiddle with the embroidery on Maglor's collar. Maglor did not move.
"Evon" the child said. When Maglor did not respond, the child turned and looked at him.
"Evon" he said again and then his turned full attention to Maglor's collar. Maglor smiled.
"Evon" he said back to him and let him play with his collar till his knees began to protest. But that was a small matter to him at the moment. For the first time he truly believed this would work out well for the little edain after all.
Of course he never anticipated Maedhros's return that evening.