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Chapter Text

“It´s so beautiful”

“Aren´t you cold?”

“Are you”

Oromë wasn´t sure of what it meant to be cold. As an Ainur, his fanna didn´t feel that kind of sensation like a completely incarnated hröa should, protecting him from that. But Tyelko didn´t have that kind of protection. Even so, his lover seemed to never be cold. He had seen him being bothered by hot climate, sweating a lot, but never by the lower temperatures. It was almost as if his body didn´t registered it. And here he was, in a hunting attire that was almost in tatters if not for the heroic attempts the hunter made to mend it with his poor sewing attempts (it had been obvious which of the brothers inherited their grandmothers talent with threads and which didn´t) and still not complaining.

“No, I am not cold” he said, searching around for wood for the fire. It wouldn´t have much use, as neither of them felt cold, but Tyelkormo was hungry. And they needed to cook the kill to eat, or at least the elf did. “Can you gather some water from a nearby stream? I need to boil it to make the stew.”

“Are you sure?” the Huntsman asked again, frowning when he saw the first stars of snow falling over the trees. He had been there when the first snow fell over Arda and he still considered this a much better version, no matter what the creator of the thing thought. Also, he remembered the cold, which must be similar to now. It must be freezing… and Celegorm didn´t seem to notice. “I can give you my cloak.”

“I´m sure, stop bothering” he sighed. “I think I lost my capability to sense cold when I carried Nella. She was probably playing around with ice all the time inside my belly, so my body acclimate to low temperatures.”

“What?” the Hornblower asked in disbelieve.

“Hummm?”

“What did you say about our daughter?” Oromë approached him with a look of disbelieve in his eyes. “Is she truly an ice maia?”

“Well… I don´t really know, but she has done a lot of things from ice… and snow… and has now made that big ice bird” the Lord of the Hunt approached him even more, completely forgetting the pot he was supposed to be filling with water. “What? Is that a problem? You probably have met thousands of ice maiar…”

“No… I mean, I once did, but the ice maiar were all killed by Melkor shortly before the Battle of the Powers.”

“Ahhh” the elf answered, lowering his head a bit. “Guess there is one now. It should be a good thing, having an extinct race of the Ainur back.”

Oromë wasn´t that sure. He, who had been a father many times, knew how the heritage of the Ainur worked. It was true that the offspring of the Valar were a gamble when it came to the power they would inherit from their ancestors, but the powers those children inherited always came from an ancestor. For him to have a daughter with an elf who was an ice maia was… where could it have come from? There was only one response, but he refused to believe it. He meant… he knew the ancestry of the royal family of the Noldor, there was no way Tyelkormo could be connected to them. But as he looked at his lover more, the more he realized that there were clues that could point to that being true. His silver hair that he adored so much had a metallic undertone, just as his eyes. It had been one of the preferences of the ice maiar when it came to fanna. There was also that irreverence that could point to a very well-known ice maiar and one of her many children. Even the eight-pointed star that his family took as an emblem came from them!!

But, at the same time, was he rushing in his conclusions? Yes, Tyelkormo looked a lot like an ice maia would, but he had many brothers and none of them did… except for the eyes. It can be downplayed to heritage, but it can also be that he was wrong. And yes, now that he thought about it, there was a huge loophole when it came to Míriel´s lineage before her also silver haired father and he could very well come from the ice maiar, but they could have also had teleri blood… but that tone of silver was very particular. It would also not explain how he had an ice maia daughter. And he felt that he needed to know, not only for himself, but also because… well…

“Have you gone for that water yet?”

“Slipped my mind” he exchanged looks with Nahar, the horse immediately knowing what his master was thinking. He went away to scout ahead and give them a little bit of privacy. “Prepare everything to sleep too.”

“Hummm…”

The Huntsman went away and gathered the water. Now, how could he find out if his elvish lover actually had Ainur blood? He could… no, that would be dangerous… but… there could be some other… that one no… and no… NO… not conclusive… definitely NO… ahhh, the only way. Well, he will have to do it. Not that it would be that much of a chore, in fact he would enjoy this method the most, but this puts them both at more risk of producing life again. And being in such a situation, it could soon become deathly to Tyelkormo. He will have to make him slow down a bit, enough so that those twin brothers of the Tyelko could reach them before the sickness manifested.

“You are back” the elf said as he took care of the fire. “I already have everything chopped and ready to make the stew. I also prepared the sleeping place” he announced without paying attention as he put the pot over the fire. “Come sit down by me.”

“Sure” his arm snaked around Tyelko´s waist. There would still be some time until the water boiled, they had time to…

“Not until I have eaten, I´m hungry”

“Fine”

The water boiled, the dinner was prepared and his lover consumed it, everything while Oromë was waiting almost sitting on his hands. Finally, everything was over and he kissed the lips of his elf. As he ripped off his clothes, the Huntsman also prepared himself for what he was about to do and the possible consequences if his suppositions were wrong. Tyelkormo also seemed to be enjoying everything, his eyes practically rolling to the inside of his head as he got closer and closer… which they did as the promised climax arrived. In that moment, Oromë´s energy flooded his body, his mind connecting in a way that has only been tried between two Ainur, never with one of the Children. It should have been enough at least render him comatose, but the only reaction was a thin cover of ice spreading everywhere and the snowing turning into an all-out snowstorm, way too early for the time of the year. During that time, Oromë could follow the link that connected his lover to the very Song, tenuous at the beginning, stronger down the line. From Tyelkormo to Fëanáro to Míriel and her father, to a well-known woman with snow around her and another woman with an ice armor.

He separated when he realized what this meant. His lover… no, not only Tyelkormo, but all the Feanorions had blood of the ice maiar. Why had no one learned of this before? Or thought? It was then that he realized something else. That connection had been enough not only to confirm his suspicions but, as he feared, create a new spark of life in his lover.

“Fuck!!” he said as he lifted himself. Tyelkormo was going to be so angry when he realizes that another child was on the way… perhaps he should prepare for that. In the meantime, he got out of their refuge and called for Nahar. “Guide the redheaded twins here, I´m counting on you. I´m going to keep him in place as much as I can.”

Unfortunately, Tyelkormo was hard to keep in one place, specially during a hunt. And he had a mission. Oromë also underestimated the distance they had from the twins. At this point, it would take them too long to arrive and get their brother. He would need to do something before Tyelko started to feel…

“OROMË!!!” he heard the scream. Apparently, he had run out of time already. Ready to face the music, the Vala walked towards him. “Please tell me you didn´t” the Huntsman didn´t even try to defend himself. “Really?! In the middle of a fucking chase for the greatest Enemy of Arda?!”

“It wasn´t what I was planning, but that didn´t change. You need to return to your family immediately” he announced, calling for Nahar. The horse appeared, having left a trail for the elves to find. “Nahar has already located them, we have to hurry.”

“My brothers… were looking for me?” he asked, genuinely surprised. “But they…”

“The twin ones, the others remained behind, guess to help with the reconstruction” Oromë put him on the great stallion before climbing himself. The horse whined and huffed, telling something to his master. “No, we will have to be careful.”

“What?”

“Nahar tells me that they are still far away, but if he were to speed up to his top speed, then you wouldn´t be able to stand it” or would he? No, his maia blood wasn´t thick enough for him to endure Nahar´s speed. “We will reach them before the birth, he also informed that they had a healer with themselves, but it´s still going to take a few months.”

“Months I could develop the sickness in” Tyelkormo bit his lip. “But even if I arrive alive and safe to my family, this Hunt is important. Who is going to continue…”

“I will”

“What?”

“I will continue hunting Melkor in your stead, so don´t worry.” Oromë got the reins. “Now try to get to relax, you are going to need your strength.”

“How do you plan to locate Morgoth?”

“I already have an idea of where he is going… even if I hope I´m wrong. If I´m not, it means that we haven´t done our job well since a long time ago.”

He gave the order and Nahar put into movement. His horse was faster than anything in the world, but they had to be careful here. Huan joined them

-A few months later-

Ambarussa wondered what they were still doing here. Tyelkormo certainly didn’t want to return if he hadn´t appeared until that day and even Moryo probably had completely forgot about why he was pissed at their brother for. More, neither of them were sure that people back at Barad Eithiel remembered why they had to punish their brothers, it has been more than fucking ten years!! And if somehow they remembered, he doubted they would care. Tyelko will come back when he wanted or when he thought he had completed that stupid Hunt for Morgoth or through Mandos… even if Luhte and Nella kept saying that he was alive. Which was usually followed by a letter from Nelyo (most news they had of their family lately too) about how they needed to track down and bring their miscreant brother back.

It was then that they had found the remaining of a campsite and a carving of the eight-pointed star. Sure that it could only be Tyelko, they started searching around for other signs of their brother´s presence and they manage to find the direction he had gone to. They followed his track, but he was too far away for them to reach him. They were about to give up definitely, no matter what Nelyo could say, when suddenly a howl was heard. A very known howl, one they had heard since infanthood. The twins ran towards the sound, their drained companions behind them, finding Huan there.

“Huan?” Amras asked, surprised to find the Hound there. Wasn´t he killed protecting Beren Echarmion from Carcharoth?

“Good that I found you!!” he answered, surprising them even more. Huan usually barked, he wasn´t supposed to talk like that even if he could. “It´s Tyelkormo, he is in a bad shape. We thought that we had more time, but he has gotten worse over the last few weeks…”

“What is happening? Where is our brother?” Amrod questioned, worried.

“It´s… better if you see it yourselves” the dog said, looking back to where he had come from. “You do have a healer between you, no?”

“Yes? Is he injured?”

“Not exactly”

Ambarussa was starting to believe that the problem was something they had seen or at least heard about before. A deep distaste started to settle on them, remembering Curufin´s tale about their nephew and niece´s coming to the world. And they had received letters detailing Nelyo´s health during the first days of the hunt. Even so, they decided not to take conclussions before seeing what was happening. They found their brother under a tree, looking terribly debilitated and with a slightly bloated abdomen. Another figure was standing there, one they also knew. They frowned deeply at the same time when the Lord of the Hunt turned to see them. It was clear what had happened here.

“Lord Oromë” the twins said, definitely wanting to say stronger things, or that this was definitely not the time for something like that, but managed to bit their tongues.

“It´s my fault, I should have expected something like this to happen.”

“Exactly what?”

“It began early this time” Celegorm explained, a hand covering his mouth. He seemed nauseated, but his eyes had also taken a slight yellow tint, something that shouldn´t have happened until much later. “And it´s progressing faster too.”

“Well, Tyelko, you shouldn´t have…”

“It´s not the time to scold him, do that when he survives” Amrod said, extending a hand to his brother to get him up, all the while sending the Lord of the Hunt a nasty glare. “We need to take him to the healers immediately. Are you accompanying us, Lord Oromë?”

“No, he is not” the blond answered for them, stopping to breath deeply after saying that. “I know you probably want to, but I doubt you would be in any help in this. Besides, you promised me that you will continue in this Hunt.”

“My priority is you right now”

“It should be Morgoth” the elf reminded him. “Our chase had been able to buy some peace for my people, but the moment Morgoth stops some time to gather and order those that are still loyal to him or gets enough rest to recover his power, he could make more damage than we could estimate. Only like this we can ensure peace.”

“I understand that” he whistled, giving up. “I will continue giving chase with Nahar, I hope I could get in his way before he reaches his final destination.”

“What final destination? Where is Morgoth going?” Amras asked, very interesting.

“During our travels, I noticed that there were some things that were familiar. With a careful inspection, I found the traces that I and others I have known have been there before… during the Great Travel.” He frowned. “I don´t know what he expects to find there besides ruins, but it could be nothing good.”

“I don´t know what…”

“Are you idiots or your thick skull is blocking the way of the thoughts” Tyelkormo said, grunting at his twin brothers.

“You aren´t one to talk, you got the thickest skull out of all of us!! Ever thicker than Curvo´s!!”

“Yeah!!”

“Well, think about it this way” the older Feanorion said, despite feeling too sick to even talk. “If Morgoth is doing the Great Travel, but in reverse, it could only lead to where it originally started, which is Cuivenen. But there is nothing there for him, I doubt there are even elves remaining there… or perhaps there are avari tribes.” He stopped to deal with the nausea for a second. “What I mean is that it´s not Cuivenen he is looking for, it´s something close. Which dark place was close to Cuivenen? There is only one answer: Utumno.”

“Utumno?” Amras said as his twin shivered in fear. “What does he expect to find there? The Valar levelled it to the ground?”

“Yes, but when had the Valar ever done something right?” Oromë sent him a glare, but Celegorm didn´t care. He was in this situation because his fool of a lover, he could take some insults directed towards him and his incompetent brethren. “You were there… Tulkas was also there, no?”

“Yes.” He crossed his arms. “We took care of the fortress in a through way. There was not even a stone left without crushing. Everywhere you could see, there was nothing.”

“Did you take care of whatever underground passages there was or did you just take care of the things you could see from the surface?” the Huntsman didn´t respond to that. “Then you didn´t do a great work. Angband was supposedly modelled after Utumno and has thousands of secret underground passages. It´s only common sense that Utumno also had… had those” he covered his mouth. “And maybe something worse.”

“We might have overlooked that” the Lord of the Hunt answered. “More of a reason for me to get in his way before he could reach Utumno, especially if there could be something hidden in those secret passages that could help him regain power.”

“We need to warn Nelyo about this”

“At the speed he is going, it´s still going to take a few decades for him to reach Utumno again. And I doubt he is going to speed up…”

“But we have to warn our people anyway” Amrod also acted as support for his brother, worried about him. He had never seen Tyelko so weakened. It cemented his decision to never having children himself. And he could tell his twin had the same idea in his mind. Screw their father and his love for big families. “We need to go back.”

They returned quickly to their camp, but soon they realized that they hadn´t taken into account how sick their brother was getting by the day, even with the healer and water of Estë´s garden. Of course, the water was enough to heal his body from the worse of the damage and help him keep food down, but that damage usually make him black out. They had to advance carefully, even with horses, and couldn´t leave him out of sight for a second. And Tyelkormo wasn´t showing signs of improvement.

“We need to talk about something” Amras said after a month of travelling, during which their brother´s eyes had turned entirely yellow and his abdomen was starting to hurt him too much to mount for hours on end. Huan was with him as the other elves talked. “I´m sorry, but we need to find a safe place to rest and stop until Tyelkormo recovers.”

“Are you insane? We have to go faster, reach Barad…”

“We are years away from any known land of our people, Pityo, and at the speed we are going, it´s going to take us more than a fucking decade to reach Barad Eithiel.”

“You don´t know that…”

“Oh, I know that well. We might have going from one end to the other of this fucking continent following Tyelko, but we still advanced a good distance from any known land of the Noldor. Fucking years, give it or take it.”

“We still have ways of communi…”

“With birds. If you know how to fly like them, with Tyelko and the rest of us in your back, then be my guest, but if not…”

“Telvo…”

“I don´t like it either, it makes me feel too exposed, but there is no other way. Not unless we want to lose our brother” he sighed. “Our men doesn´t have to follow us, you are welcomed to…”

“We are loyal to the House of the Fëanor, my Lord” one of the elves answered, the others nodding. “We will remain with you and help you keep Lord Celegorm and his child safe until he is recovered.”

“Thank you for your loyalty” Amras said as he stirred the stew pot. “Tomorrow, let´s start scouting for possible places to hide ourselves in. If you find one, ask healer Gaeruilion. Our refuge has to meet to his standards for the birthing chambers. I will talk to him to lower his expectations to the lowest point, but that still gives Tyelko the best chances.”

“Keep a weapon on yourselves. Remember that we don´t know these lands and we can only trust one another. We need to stay protected.”

“Yes, my Lord” Hadlathon nodded as well as the other members of the Hunt.

Hadlathon had been… a curious addition to their small band, but none the lest loyal despite his Sindarin roots. This one was a former thrall himself, having before been a marchwarden of Doriath. He had been in Angband until the now renamed Nirnaeth Arnoediad (Amras wasn´t sure what it had been named now), but hadn´t been evacuated because he was relatively on good health after he was freed. He had escaped the healing tents to go to back to Doriath and been chased away. He had been escaping everything he had known when he somehow came across Amras and Amrod´s little group. He hadn´t believed them much at first, despite the reputation of the House of Fëanor, but now he was as loyal as the rest. And eager to show his new loyalty. Gaerdes, a huntress also formerly from Doriath, was the only one with a similar history and had helped him acclimate, but she had served under Celegorm for a long time already. So she was a bit worried about his former lord.

“Leave the night patrol to us, we will have to work overtime tomorrow, beginning with you.” Amras told his twin. “Besides, you are better to find safe locations than me.”

“Yes, Pityo.”

It only took a few days for them all to realize that they were not alone in that parch of land. It was very slight at the beginning, but the twins and all the other seasoned hunters in the band noticed that they were being watched. And carefully, by more than one. They hadn´t attacked them yet, so they hadn´t attacked their stalkers either, but kept watch of them. The elves examined their traces in secret under the cover of the night. They came to the conclusion that they were edain, as no eldar would leave suck a profound step. Amrod and Amras were under guard too, their hands never straying from their knives. What could those edain want from them?

-At the same time-

The man watched the attacker with curiosity. At first, when he heard that strangers had appeared in the woods next to the capital, he thought they were a scouting force from the enemy. He went to face them, but then he noticed that they didn´t look like anything he had ever seen. Besides, they didn´t dress like any soldier of King Egburt´s that he had ever seen. They also didn´t have glowing eyes, which was a characteristic some of the strangers had but others not. His men wanted to attack, already having decided that they were spies, but he stopped them. They reminded what he was risking, not that he needed that, but he wanted to watch them some more before making another country his people´s enemy. They already had enough with Egburt and his savages.

In the years that had followed that enormous monster´s appearance in the sky, things had destabilized in that region. The Kingdoms that had been victims of the Great Doom´s passing and the monsters following it, sacking everything in their way, had been significantly damaged and then conquered by their neighbors. He had heard from several refugees how the people had been slaughtered by those they considered trade partners or didn´t know, but who wanted their lands. From the small farmers to the royal families, and he, as new king… not that there was much of a royal family there anymore. Or a country. From their parents and eight children, only him and his younger sister remained. And from the small but proud country they once were, only the capital was standing by the heroic efforts of those. And the barely repaired walls were not expected to last long, let alone the food stores. They were crumbling… but that doesn´t mean they were going to give up without a fight.

Returning to the strangers, that morning they were still scouting around, but not for anything of military importance, but for something more. He had already deduced that the redheaded twins were the leaders of the group from how they acted around them, but hadn´t been able to find much more thanks to the language barrier. They spoke in a dialect he had never heard before and he had heard every one on this part of the continent. Where were they from? What were their reasons to come here? They didn´t seem to like it.

“My King” one of the knights, younger than he would have liked to bring into that dangerous place, advanced towards him. “How long are you going to watch the strangers for? We should get rid of them already, they are possibly spies.”

“Spies doing what? Searching nearby caves and holes for secret military forces? Not even Egburt has such delusions. Besides, if we kill them and they are not a threat or spies from any nation we know, do you want to bring their country´s wrath over us?”

“I doubt any country would make a ruckus for two or three killed vagabonds.”

He doubted it much. From how those redheads behaved, he could truly see that they were well-raised, probably nobility. If they were to kill them and their country were to know, they would not only be handling Egburt a new ally on a silver platter, but putting an unknown land against them. What if they were from a greater country than they had ever seen? Not only them, but others might end up suffering the consequences of their rush. He decided to continue watching and examining them, trying to decipher their strange language despite not having a base. He could tell they were worried about something, but couldn´t tell what.

The young King didn’t have to wait much to find out. The next day only they woke up to some actual scouts from Egburt trying to kill them all. They battled, but they were much more than them. The young King prepared to die, praying that his sister could shoulder the responsibilities as Queen and be protected… apologizing for not returning to her… when an arrow whistled through the wind. Then another and another. The hostile knights were being attacked by an invisible attacker. He looked around once they were all dead, trying to find out his savior, when a figure got out of the bushes. It was one of the strangers. He was followed by another and another… but he didn´t think for a moment that there weren´t more of them pointing at them with their arrows in position.

“Thank you” he said, but the redhead that was at the head didn´t seem to understand. “Do you understand what I say? Can you understand me?”

The stranger, one of the twins from before, asked something in that language of their, then apparently changed the language he was using and asked the same. They tried this once or twice before giving up. Apparently, there was no way to understanding each other. All the time, the redhead was looking behind all the time, towards where they were camping before. He must be really worried about something.

“Maybe you can come with me to our home, we can try to understand each other again once we are safe” he tried to make himself be understood. “You are not safe here, it´s filled with soldiers like those.”

“My King, what are you doing?” the young knight asked, seeing his big movements with hands and how the stranger seemed to get at least the bare minimum of the message.

“I´m thanking them… and trying to gain ourselves a new ally” the redhead nodded after some careful thinking. He raised his voice to say something to the ones behind him. They didn´t move, but he couldn´t tell if the ones in the bushes did. “Do you have a name? Mine is Gwayne” he signaled himself. “Gwayne.”

“Amras” the other did the same. So his name was Amras, eh?

“This is Pellinore” he presented the young knight, clearly pointing at him. The other twin then came out of the bushes to put himself besides his brother. Amras looked at him and told him something softly, then pointed at him.

“Amrod” woow, even their names sounded similar. What else, them sharing a name?

The other members of the strange band joined shortly after the introductions, they didn´t seem much happy that the twins considered his offer. Much to the surprise of the knights, behind the group of known people appeared a dog the size of a horse, with another stranger they hadn´t seen before, tending to another one they hadn´t noticed over the Hound. This one was obviously ill, with his pale sweating face and yellow eyes. It was obvious that his health was what worried the redheads so much. Gwayne doubted about letting him in. His people were already battered and hungry, they didn´t need disease too. But he had already decided to give the strangers refuge, so…

“My King…”

“Let´s go, I will take the chances”

The stranger that was near the dog raised a hand to stop them before advancing. He opened his bag and pulled out bandages, starting to cover a cut Gwayne had on his leg. So he was a healer then, eh? Obvious why he had been left in charge of the ill member of the party. Finally, they went back to the walled city. The strangers looked at it with a little bit of wonder. It seemed that they had never seen so many people together. Gwayne guessed that no. Between the refugees from another land, those of his own land that had come from their farms and defeated castles and sacked territories, the city was full. Full and very disorganized.

“Come” he guided them to the castle, where the nobles and other notables resided. It was less full, as several of his lords had already died trying to defend their own lands and their lands were nearly exterminated. Only the younger remained and they were easier to house.

“Gwayne!!” he heard his sister´s voice when he entered. She ran towards him, practically throwing herself at him. He hugged her, they were incredible lucky to still have each other. “You returned, thank the gods.”

“I´m fine, Rowena” he answered. “I´m fine”

Not for the first time, he felt guilty for his beautiful sister. She was a princess, one who long ago had a great future, that was going to be a Queen, but she was forced to remain there and help them even if she should have been long wed. the girl deserved something more… but with their family being practically doomed, she didn´t have many options. At least she won´t marry Egburt´s useless son. Rowena stepped back, searching in his face. It was then that she noticed the strangers.

“Who are they?” she asked, surprised to see new faces.

“That´s what I need to find out. Perhaps I have found ourselves new allies.”

-In another place-

He moved his new limbs awkwardly, cursing his slow growth. Of course, it wasn´t slow at all if you consider a normal elf, but he couldn´t lose time in that. Not if he wanted to keep himself and the other life on the line this side of Mandos. And he wanted to. He also wanted to fight, to get out and fight with those that tried to kill him before he draw breath. And if he could fight others too, then better. Too bad he was stuck here wasting his energy in something as useless as growing. Did he mention that he should be fighting? He opened his mouth and took in more liquid, what a drag.

Something occurred him then. It was unadvisable, yes, but it could give him less time where he was along with a better chance for this not to end in tragedy. Also send a message to a certain someone that will surely feel utterly enraged at his existence… with someone else. That was certainly going to be fun. As for the unadvisable side… yes, he will have to wait more time to put his hands to work in fighting, but it would end up better. For everyone.

Another opening and closing on his mouth, dragging more liquid into his mouth. This was a fucking annoyance.

His atya better appreciates all the troubles he was going through to help him!!

Chapter Text

Túrin didn´t want to end up in this situation, really. He had only wanted to have some fun after all the meetings and political talks his father had dragged him to during this visit to Barad Eithiel. He had been down since Beleg refused, again, to marry him despite their great time together and the second pregnancy of the marchwarden. He had almost went to blows with Mablung when he started to scream, but the archer managed to defuse the situation before any of them could get into troubles and politely told Túrin to leave. The Heir to Dor-Lomín did, grumbling to himself about why wouldn´t he marry him. Was it about the whole scandal with Saeros? That wasn´t his fault to begin with!! He was only doing the obnoxious advisor a favor!! How was he supposed to know that Thingol was going to lock him up until their daughter was born and practically demand he married him? Which he eagerly refused and Húrin with him. His father might be desperate to marry him, but he would definitely never allow a forced marriage, much less when the innocent part (namely Saeros) refused as eagerly as his son. In the end, Thingol had to let it go, after much slightly (very) hostile talks with Húrin and High King Findékanno. Once it was over, he actually sighed in relief.

On the bright side, Saeros actually got the post of ambassador and settled rather permanently with his daughter in Barad Eithiel. He also refused to be in close proximity to Túrin, which he gladly conceded. Damn, he didn´t think he almost got saddled with that annoyance for the rest of his life. And the event… it had been the biggest debacle of Túrin´s life, one which he refused to repeat. So he had learned his lesson and took care of his own needs on another way. Or let someone trustworthy take care of them, namely Beleg. As in a look but don´t touch thing, just to be sure. Húrin had been relieved… at least until the situation that landed him on the current one was issued.

“Come on, Ereinion, stop splashing and let me clean your little ears” Maedhros said as he tried to bath his son. He was waist deep in some pond, holding the child while this one made his very best to soak his father from head to toe. “Yonya…”

“Just give up, Nelyo, all elflings are the same when they are in a pool. They want to play” Curufin talked as he tried to help his brother with the toddler. “Tyelpe was like that too.”

“I don´t care, he needs to get cleaned… Ereinion, stop!!”

Why the husband of the High King used the public baths of the palace instead of a bathtub in his own chambers, Túrin would never know. The only thing he knew was that this was a golden opportunity he never thought he would have. And Maedhros was… he had to give it to Fingon, he had an excellent taste. The General was tall and his copper red hair gave him an exotic look among elves. He had also recovered magnificently from pregnancy and childbirth. All in all, he was a true feast for the eyes, the edain said to himself as his eyes ravished him through a hole he found on the wall. Curufin wasn´t much behind, the muscles from the forge giving him a different kind of musculature than his older brother, but delicious on it´s own way. How much he wanted to touch right now, specially when Maedhros bowed to wet his child´s hair, giving him a good view of his… but he wasn´t crazy enough, so he only imagined and used his own meanings to…

“AHEM!!!”

Túrin froze completely and, almost mechanically, turned to the side to see High King Findékanno and Chancellor Yárion there. The King was seething… he had really done it this time, no? he only hoped that he had time to explain himself and say goodbyes to his family before he was marched to the executioner stand for daring to lay eyes on what was only for the elven king to see. Unfortunately for him, the High King had one punishment to deal before sending Túrin anywhere.

“Yárion, can you accompany the young lord to seek his father and explain what happened here. HIMSELF” What?! He had to explain what happened here to Húrin?! Did the High King really want him to die?!!

“It will be a pleasure, your majesty”

Oh, Eru, he had done it greatly now. Not even the whole problem he caused with Thingol, which made relationships tenser than they had ever been between Doriath and the Noldor territories, has been as bad as this. He would want to escape… but he was a Man and he wouldn´t do something as cowardly as running. Not that he actually could, either, because Yárion had his wrist trapped in his steel like clasp. They finally reached a courtyard, where an aged Húrin was overseeing the training of the few soldiers they had brought with them against the elven ones. He smiled when he saw his son… his gently expression was replaced with frown when he noticed who was accompanying him.

“What did he do and to whom do I have to apologize?” the resigned Lord of Dor-Lómin asked, already used to his son´s antics and the troubles they tend to bring. Unfortunately, this time they were bigger than ever before. “IDIOT!!!”

Túrin shuddered both of fear and because of the hit to the head he received from his angered father. His ears were also ringing… Húrin had screamed loud enough for the whole Barad Eithiel to heard him… in fact, Túrin wouldn´t be surprised if his sister in Obel Halad had heard their father´s yell… and he didn´t even want to know what his mother would do when she heard what he had done… Morwen would kill him and trussed him like a turkey… or at least that was what he was thinking as he was forced on his knees alongside Húrin to apologize to the Feanorions and the High King. He looked up to see them and, while Maedhros and Curufin themselves were seething, the angriest in the room seemed to be Fingon, glaring daggers at the idiot that dared to peep on his vulnerable husband while he was bathing their son. Ereinion was nowhere to be seen, probably having been entrusted to his nanny while his parents dealt with the peeping tom.

“Your majesty, I know that I don´t have a foot to stand in after all the trouble my son has caused these last few years, but I beg of you, after all these years of service, please don´t execute him. Execute me if you need to kill someone, for it´s I who failed in his education.”

“Adar…”

“Quiet, boy, let the adults talk” his father´s heated glare made Túrin shut up.

“The thing, Húrin, is that you son had caused trouble after another and didn´t seem to repent any of them at all. I can´t have someone like that as one of my most powerful bannermen, especially if he is willing to insult my husband in such a way” Fingon´s heated glare, masked with a smile, was still fixed in the Hadorian youngster. “How could I trust someone like that? Why not simply demand for him to renounced his titles and exile himself, leaving your daughter and her children as the heirs of the House of Hador?”

“My King, I assure you, it´s not necessary…”

“Nienor has just had a second boy, no? From Brandir, who is not only nephew by marriage of my husband´s brother Caranthir, but a direct descendant from my cousin Aegnor…”

“My King…”

“But I also couldn´t simply disregard the years of friendship and service that there has been between us” Fingon continued, but Túrin was sure the elven King was already digging his grave. “So I will give him a last chance to prove himself. He is to complete a diplomatic mission without causing any trouble or leaving half a dozen elflings in elven bellies. If not, we will name the Lady Nienor and her children heirs of your House.”

“If he is to fail, my King, then I will write the papers disinheriting my son myself” Húrin said, looking at Túrin with a stern look. The boy, for his part, was feeling a bit relieved. A diplomatic mission, eh? He could do that. He has done that before. It will be easy, specially if it is to Doriath, where he was extremely popular despite everything and…

“Splendid!! Then I shall send a letter to King Orodreth to announce his arrival in a month´s time!!”

Túrin froze again. Orodreth? ORODRETH?! He wasn´t really thinking of sending him again to Nargothrond, no? He meant… it was practically like sending him to his death. After finding out how he had played her to sleep with her gorgeous betrothed (now husband), Finduilas of Nargothrond wanted nothing more than pull his entrails out of his body and use them as a necklace. He would be a dead man if he dared to approach that place now… but that was probably what the High King wanted. To appear the merciful ruler, giving a disgraced heir a last chance to prove himself despite being gravely insulted by him, but at the same time sending him to his death. But he couldn´t refuse the mission, not without appearing like a coward. Damn, he was trapped. He only hoped that Finduilas gave him a quick…

“What´s the matter, Lord Túrin? Do you think the mission I am giving you to atone for your crime is too difficult to achieve? Would you rather renounce your lands and titles right now in favor of your sister and depart to exile?”

The young man bit his lip. As if the look Húrin was giving him now wasn´t enough, he himself knew that he couldn´t do that. Of course, he was sure that his people would be fine with Nienor as their Lady, but to take the easy way out would brand him a coward and a craven and he would rather die at the hands of Finduilas than suffer that humiliation. Which he wasn´t, by the way.

“My King, it would be my honor to serve as your envoy to Nargothrond and I will endeavor to show you that your pardon wasn´t wasted on me” he answered.

And that was how he ended up on a horse along with some guards from Barad Eithiel and Dor-Lómin, ridding towards Nargothrond. Or, as he would put it on another way, his worst nightmare: Finduilas Faelivrin. He wondered as they approached the point where the patrol would blindfold them if he should write a letter of goodbye to Beleg and tell him he really loved him once more, no matter who else he fucked. Talking about fucking someone, he had heard that Gwindor was also pissed about the night they spent together. He didn´t know why, the elf had enjoyed it as much as him and it wasn´t as if he had touched his lady. Anyway, he needed to continue, so he simply let Orodreth´s guards do their duty and he went with them. Once the blindfold was removed, he had to fight to keep his expression straight.

“Hello, Túrin” a smiling Princess said, her charming expression promising a world of pain to the unfortunate (or not so much) edain.

“Hello… Princess Finduilas… it´s a pleasure to be here”

“A pleasure to have you here again” I´m going to kill you slowly and use your eyes as earrings, was all Túrin could hear from her. “Shall we?”

Inside, it was obvious that no one was happy to see him. There were a lot of dirty looks from several people around. Inside the court the looks were worse, specially coming from people related to some of his former lovers. Celebrimbor and Maeglin were also there for some reason. He had heard the smith was now Lord of his own lands, the ones that were taken from his father´s and uncle´s control as punishment for their misdeeds, so he hadn´t expected to see them there. Much less with the company they were now keeping. Túrin´s eyes went wide when he saw the elf in question. He was pretty and his voice sounded like music… oh, so he must be Maglor, son of Fëanor. The only one of the brothers that he hadn´t seen yet. Túrin thought for a second about propositioning him, but then he remembered the amount of troubles he was in for just staring at the elf´s brothers. Perhaps he should remain away from him until the High King had forgotten about it. And, just to be sure, from Celebrimbor and his pretty avari husband. Too bad.

“His majesty the King, Her Highness the Princess and her Consort!!” the herald announced. The young edain turned to see them entering.

It was obvious by his expression that Orodreth wasn´t happy to have him there. The sour expression he dedicated to Túrin was more than enough to deduce that. Finduilas was as charmingly smiling as before, something that promised death. And Gwindor… well, Gwindor was busy with an elfling in his arms. The child looked young, but also too old for the amount of years he must be, because last time Túrin had been there, Gwindor hadn´t had an elfling and him and Finduilas were just married. How had the elfling grown so much in… oh, no!! If his father learns about this, screw Finduilas, Húrin was going to kill him himself!! The brewing succession conflict in one of their most powerful cities would certainly make him decide that kinslaying was worth the trouble.

“I… I salute you, King Orodreth” Túrin presented his respects, trying not to look directly at the King or his daughter. Or at Gwindor, who was also glaring at him now, his dark-haired child imitating him. It was weird. “I bear news from…”

“My uncle, the High King, I know” the King of Nargothrond answered. His tone of voice made him shudder. Now he was sure the High King had sent him there to kill him. “I guess I can listen to whatever message you have to tell…”

Before I kill you, Túrin heard in his mind. Obviously, Orodreth hadn´t been impressed with him the last time he had been there. Finduilas was all smiled and giggles, playing the perfect princess while promising to pull his organs out… couldn´t he get out of Nargothrond fast enough, can´t he?
He managed to survive an entire week with the entire royal family and their new in-law´s hostility directed towards them. Guilin and Gelmir certainly hadn´t found his little trick funny and wanted him to pay. He was also quite alone, as even his guards believed that being killed by angry family members of his former lovers was his just deserve. It was so awful of a situation without being actually awful, because Orodreth kept everything civil and took good care of him, that when the King received news that a band of orcs had been seen in the borders, he felt relieved.

“Come back to me” Finduilas said to her father and her husband as both of them said their final goodbyes before mounting their horses and marching to battle. “I will keep everything working at home.”

“Be careful, Faelivrin, and take care of our son.” HIS son, Túrin thought, but never said anything.

“I will” she answered.

Túrin was among the nobles who saw the royal entourage leave for the border, all of them armored for battle. Depending on the size of the band of orcs, they could suffer loses. He wondered for a second if he should go, after all he had been to a few missions with his father´s men to exterminate raiding orcs before. He had even chased a few of the parties to Nan Dungortheb… but thanks to Thingol he had to turn from that point. He didn´t understand why the King of Doriath refused to have that evil place cleared. Did he truly fear the Noldor so much? If they continue to allow that valley and Ered Gorgoroth to stand, they would never be truly safe, no matter how long the peace lasted. He had tried to make him see that, but he refused to hear anything regarding the matter.
Anyway, that wasn´t his problem right now. With the princess busy managing the city, he almost could enjoy his stay in the hidden city. Of course, every day without getting news about the King and his soldiers was worrying, but depending on the distance the messengers could take several days to reach Nargothrond and eliminating a big band of orcs or chasing them away could take several days. He calmed himself down also saying that the soldiers of Nargothrond were good warriors, surely they could deal with something like that alone… until he heard the alarm of the city. Could Orodreth really…

“Dragon!!” someone screamed, warning the population, who started to get into panic. “It´s Glaurung!! And several other Worms!! We need to flee, now!!”

Túrin ran to the entrance, trying to asses the danger. It was not only a big band of orcs, but at least five dragons counting Glaurung. And not only dragons, they had spiders with them. Even with the warriors Orodreth had taken with him, it would have been difficult for Nargothrond to survive the attack. He will join the fight anyway, he thought as he pulled out his sword, going with the other warriors to the door to try and give the civilians time to flee. Much to his surprise, an armored Finduilas was there, giving orders.

“My Lady…”

“You have another job to do, Gelmir” the Princess said to her brother-in-law, who had Gwindor´s child on his hip. “Take my son to safety. Grab the fastest horse you can find and ride for Barad Eithiel. Warn them about the danger that we face here. We will do whatever we can, but…”

“I understand… much luck, my lady”

Túrin was relieved, his child would be safe in Barad Eithiel. And Húrin would most probably search the afterlife to kill him himself after he died for that, but it would be okay. As he joined the fray and tried to hold the city along with the others, a futile effort as Glaurung and his spawn forced the doors open and began sacking the city. He tried to kill as many orcs as he could find before he was felled by one of them… but then a voice was heard everywhere in the city. He didn´t know where exactly it came from… it was beautiful and in a language he didn´t know… did he say it was beautiful? And it was sung in a way that, at the same time, it appeared as if many voices and just one were singing it. A red light suddenly bathed the entire of the city and suddenly the screams of the slain were replaced by the cries of terror of the dark creatures. He didn´t know what exactly was happening, but he could see Glaurung passing before him, trampling over the orcs as he desperately tried to get away from the light that bathed the whole city. Túrin walked towards it, finding that the light came from an enormous, blood red eight-pointed star that floated above all with what seemed open doors made of ice around it. Chains sprouted from them, capturing and dragging the dark creatures around and dragging them through the doors, which snapped closed when the evil in close proximity was purged.
Túrin could almost believe that he had been dreaming, but then realized that Glaurung was escaping. If they let him go now… if they let him heal and organize orcs again… Beleg wouldn´t say no to him if he killed a dragon either, no? Having decided, the Heir to Dor-Lómin left the halls behind without searching around for wounded or the captured, because surely the orcs had taken a lot of prisoners while sacking the city, and went to follow Glaurung´s trail. He wouldn´t fail now… he would become a hero… a hero so great that even the High King couldn´t help but forgive… and one that deserved Beleg!!

-a few days later-

Celebrimbor didn´t know how they managed, but they did. Both him and Maeglin could escape, practically dragging an unconscious Maglor with them. And damn, the horses his uncle breed must be good, because they managed to reach Gelmir without getting caught by the hordes of orcs outside the city, freeing some captives in the way. They wished they could help more, but with a heavily wounded person and a babe in their hands, they couldn´t risk it. Also, they had to reach Barad Eithiel and warn the High King, get reinforcements and… and… Maglor remained unmoving, cold as ice. The smith frowned as he tried to keep his uncle this side of Mandos using his own body heat. Whatever the Feanorion had done to save their lives and stop the sacking of Nargothrond, it had been dangerous. It might even claim his life…

“Tyelpe” Lómion said, approaching with the bag Maglor always kept on himself while in Nargothrond. “Look at this”

The shine of the Silmarils, both of them, reached his eyes.

“Close it” he ordered, frowning. He just couldn´t understand.

Why had Maglor brought them with him? And why had he decided to come to Nargothrond in the first place? Tyelpe and Maeglin had only come along to make sure that no trouble was stirred because of his father´s and other uncle´s actions. It had been strange enough when he saw his grandfather´s crown between Maglor´s belongings. He wondered for a second if his uncle was trying to take over the city too, but that didn´t match his sweet and thoughtful uncle´s personality. He didn´t want to be a King again… but why had he brought that thing with him? He didn´t understand, at least not until Glaurung and his army of dark creatures attacked. For a second, Celebrimbor thought they were condemned and was ready to fall before being captured by the servants of Darkness… but then his uncle had donned Fëanor´s crown and the Silmarils and started to sing in a strange way. It was as if… he was not singing alone, as if other eight voices were coming out of his throat… he also heard him praying before he started…

Please, work without the last Silmaril…

“Have you ever seen him using that son before?” Maeglin asked, putting more timber into the fire, to prevent Maglor from freezing to death. “Do you think he committed a mistake?”

Tyelpe shook his head. He knew that his uncle had done everything right… he only lacked the necessary materials to make it work. He had done it for them and it almost claimed his life. He also wasn´t stupid, he knew that this wasn´t supposed to work, wasn´t supposed to save them without the last Silmaril, but a miracle had happened… or something close to it… and the third Silmaril seemed to have responded to the other two no matter the distance. He doubted it would happen again… or that his uncle would survive another attempt to make it work. Which means… they needed to recover the third Silmaril. If it had worked against the spiders and dragons, it could work on Glaurung, Ancalagon, maybe even Anna… Sauron and Morgoth. It could be their chance to stop this once and for all.

“Tyelpe…” his husband´s voice made him return to where he was. Horses were heard, many. If they were enemies… his hands left his sword when he noticed the sigils illuminated by torches. The eight-pointed star and the emblem of Dor-Lómin.

“Tyelpe, are you alright?” Maedhros asked, worried. He was in full armor, ready for war. He breathed in relief, if the General was in charge, then they could win. “Gelmir reached Barad Eithiel a few hours ago and told us everything. We came as fast as we could. Is there someone in need of medical attention?”

“Some of the refugees do… and uncle Makalaurë too” worry colored the face of the Consort. “He wasn´t wounded in the fray, it was… he used a song. Whatever it did, it saved our lives. The city was being sacked by Glaurung and other dragons, there wasn´t a hope… and suddenly he sang and they were turned… but he got hypodermic immediately after.”

“Glaurung?” Nelyo asked as he kneeled in front of his brother´s prone form. Hypothermia was something the healers that crossed the Helcaraxë were used to treat, there surely must be one that could take care of that.

“He fled, I don´t know where to.”

“And Túrin?” Lord Húrin asked, approaching equally as worried as the General. “My son… did you see him?”

“No, I´m sorry”

“It´s fine, things can be rather chaotic in such a fight. I´m sure he is fine” Túrin had slayed Glaurung in the former timeline after all. “Tyelpe, Maeglin, continue towards Barad Eithiel. Findékanno is preparing an army to join us later, and Curvo is there preparing the dragon weapons. He might need some help.”

“We will aid him in whatever he needs, everything to get rid of Glaurung once and for all.”

“We will also care for Lord Maglor, my Lord” the avari added.

“Uncle, is Luhte in the capital? Can he treat this?”

“You don´t know” the redhead lifted an eyebrow. “Luhte left the capital a few days ago. It seemed strange, but he suddenly went straight like a rod, then immediately turned into a bird and flew away. I think… I think something might have happened to Tyelko.” He bit his lip. “Ambarussa had just told me that they found him…”

“If they are together, we have nothing to be afraid for” Celebrimbor calmed him down. “Take care of Nargothrond and I will care for Glaurung. Also, there is more than one competent healer in the capital that can deal with hypothermia.”

“Yes… yes, I know” Maedhros was still worried, he could tell. “I have to continue now. Stay safe, alright?”

“We will” Tyelpe promised. “And we will have the weapons ready for when Fingon leaves to reinforce you.”

“I feel better knowing that you have our backs.”

As his uncle rode away, Celebrimbor wondered how the future could have changed so much at the same time as it stayed the same. They won the Nirnaeth, they had a long peace, the problems with Doriath remained the same, Nargothrond fell the same… but now they had the opportunity to reconquer and rebuild it. At least he hoped so. He also hoped that Orodreth and Finduilas were fine. Or that they could avoid the destinies they had in the first timeline. He also hoped, at least for Lord Húrin´s sake, that Túrin managed to keep himself alive. The smith didn´t care if he slayed Glaurung or not, he only needed to stay alive…

-In Doriath-

Melian had always been curious about the Silmaril. She wondered what the pretty jewel had so special that it had managed to turn her husband´s mind into such a twisted version of itself that she actually felt a bit afraid. Even so, every time she studied it, the jewel didn´t react in any way that wasn´t usual for just a gem. The Queen was so frustrated that she even called Galadriel back from her new home, just to ask her about the Silmaril. The Lady and Lord Celeborn had arrived the day before and they talked, but nothing new happened. Artanis hadn´t been close to Fëanor and didn´t know anything about how he worked or how he managed to create the Silmarils. She didn´t apologize for that… but she said that she would help in any way she can. And now she could.

“You have to remain with me all the time, remember that” Melian warned her apprentice as they both walked through the corridors that led to the Vault. “It can be rather dangerous to be left alone with the gem.”

“I know, my Queen”

“Do you really?”

The maia doubted it. Privately, she thought that the madness that plagued Fëanor and the madness that ailed her husband were different. The Finwion was… there was something in him that made her feel goosebumps. And while he had been fond of fire, she couldn´t help but believe that his presence was kind of… icy. She hadn´t felt something like this since… no, she wasn´t going to go there. She was gone from this world and anyone like her too. There was no way he was like her.

“Are you alright, my lady?”

“Yes” Melian answered as they reached the Vault.

She opened the door and stepped inside, walking straight for the Silmaril´s chest. The Queen opened it and put her hands over the gem. She tried to feel something again, using songs of power. Galadriel also tried to help, but the stubborn thing refused to hand over it´s secrets. It was then that a song in Valarin was heard all over the place. The Children probably couldn´t sense it, but Melian could. She definitely could. And not only that, but the Silmaril began to react. At first she thought she had finally managed to crack it, but then realized that it was the song it was reacting to. It was trying to reach to it… she was actually thrown into her back when it seemed to connect in some way with it´s siblings. Then she could see it… not only the person she was thinking of before, but her daughter… and her son… Míriel… Fëanor… and his sons… connected… and the Silmarils connected to them… oh, Eru…

COWARD… COWARD MELYANNA, HOW DARE YOU…

“No, not here” she said as she tried to stop the power that was spreading all over the Vault. No use, ice crawled all over the place. “You won´t threaten my home!!”

HOW DARE YOU STEAL WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY MY CHILDREN´S!! HOW DARE YOUR TOY KEEP THEIR INHERITANCE FROM THEM!! HOW DARE HE CLAIM SOMETHING THAT BELONGS TO MINE AND ME!!

“Galadriel, RUN!!!” she ordered as she tried to contain the relentless assault. Hríve´s presence was made known in this world for the first time since before the Great Trip… and it was stronger than ever. Even Melian had troubles containing her.

I WILL ENJOY YOUR PAIN. I WILL ENJOY TWISTING HIM INTO SOMETHING THAT YOU WON´T RECOGNIZE FROM A DARK CREATURE!! I WILL ENJOY TWISTING THOSE BRATS OF YOURS INTO THAT TOO!! YOU DARE TO STOLE FROM ME AND MY CHILDRE, YOU PAY THE CONSEQUENCES… I WILL ENJOY YOUR PAIN!!

“NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Galadriel was waiting outside the doors. Between all things she probably thought she would see when the Vault opened again, Melian stumbling, hurt and exhausted, wasn´t part of the list. The Queen of Doriath looked as if she had been in war… but she seemed satisfied. She couldn´t admit it, specially not to the apprentice that was now carrying her to her chambers to rest, but she hadn´t won. Hríve´s time simply run out. Whatever influence she could inflict on the world, it was limited now… and that was good. Very good… but she also believed in what she said. Her husband would be twisted into something dark if he held onto the Silmaril.

“My Lady…”

“Galadriel, I need you to do something for me” she asked, grabbing her hands. “I want you to contact your cousins, the Feanorian ones. I need… need to negotiate the return of the Silmaril.”

“Queen Melian…”

“It´s imperative” she urged the Lady. “Please, Galadriel… Artanis… do this for the good of everyone. That thing… that thing is dangerous to everyone that is not safe for anyone that isn´t them.” Galadriel didn´t seem convinced, but nodded. “I think you will find that things have changed during your absence, so it might be easier for you to gain their peaceful collaboration.”

“Nelyo is a sensible one, I´m sure…”

“My Queen” Mablung suddenly barged into the room, looking as if he had run all the way from the border. “Nargothrond has been attacked by Glaurung!! Refugees arrived, but the King…”

“Shit!!” Melian jumped to her feet despite how tired she was feeling. “Mablung, Galadriel, go to Elmo, he will provide all the help you need to help the refugees. Heal them enough and take them to Breathil… and fast!! Before the King could notice that anyone is helping them!!” she would be dammed if she let her husband kill innocent people like that. “I will deal with my husband.”

All thoughts of the Silmarils temporarily forgotten, the Queen walked straight towards her husband´s room. She had the certainty that she can distract him enough for Elmo to do his magic and put the refugees safely under the care of the Haladin. She only need to keep her husband under control for…

I WILL ENJOY TWISTING HIM INTO SOMETHING THAT YOU WON´T RECOGNIZE FROM A DARK CREATURE!!

“I won´t let you” she promised. “I will help your children if I need to, but I won´t let you do this to my love. I´m not the coward Melyanna anymore, I… I´m now willing to fight. Just like you.”

-In another place-

“Here” Gwayne said as he showed Amras a genealogy book. He had given him and his party rooms in the keep. The sick one and the healer had a room all to themselves, but it was the wise thing to do with someone who could be contagious. “This is my father, my mother, my brothers and sister… family.”
His companion seemed to understand when he saw the family tree. He grabbed paper and ink and draw one too. Or at least he thought it was a family tree, because he couldn´t understand anything that wrote. He used a completely new writing system.

“Fëanor” he said, signaling one of the scrawls.

“Fëanor… your father?” he asked, signaling his own father´s name. Amras seemed to understand, because he nodded. They continued doing so for each family member until he stopped on the third of the siblings.

“Celegorm” then he started to make some hand gestures, pointing to the door. It took a long time for the King to understand, but he finally realized.

“The sick one?” he asked, then motioned for him to follow him to the sickroom and pointed at the man in bed. “Celegorm?”

The blond seemed to respond to the name and Amras nodded. So… the sick one and the twins were siblings, eh? Made sense now for them to have been searching for a place to take refugee. If his brother was sick, he would also search for a place to stay in while he was attended to the healer or at least until he recovered. Even so, the sensation that they weren´t normal people remained. What else could he learn about them? Could they be the allies they were hoping for? Gwayne wasn´t sure, but he hoped.

Chapter Text

“We really should get out of here soon”

“You know why we can´t”

“Yes, but that doesn´t mean that we shouldn´t…”

Hadlathon was stopped when an apple suddenly collided with his feet. A child came running after it, but, when the elf tried to give it back, he emitting a little sound that reminded them of a mouse and scurried away towards his mother. They stared at the scene in confusion. It was obvious to them that the child was hungry, his family too, so why leaving the apple with them? Hadlathon then approached the woman and child to return the fruit, but they paled and fled the scene as if they had seen an orc. As the former marchwarden and his companions wondered why something like this was happening, they also noticed that they were getting strange looks from the people around them. Looks not only of distrust, but of fear. And they hadn´t done more than trying to return an apple.

“Come on” Gaerdes said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We have nothing more to do here. And Gaeruilion needs some of these herbs to stabilize Lord Celegorm´s condition.”

“But…”

“There is nothing you can do if they don´t let you. You out of all people should know that best” she answered. It brought him painful memories, but he pushed them aside and listened to her. After all, she was right.

As they walked towards the castle, the elves noticed the kind of looks they were receiving from several people. Even those inside of the inner fortification were whispering and pointing as if they were some sort of weird attraction or exotic animal. Hadlathon guessed that they kind of were… these people didn´t seem to have encountered elves before or at least seen one for several hundredths of years. Anyway, that shouldn´t be important. As soon as the Lord´s health allowed, they were going to be out of there and finally on route home. Or in his case, the new home he was going to make for himself and Gaerdes in Himring or Amon Ereb, as they seemed to be the most stable and prosperous Feanorian territories. He was then joining Maedhros or Caranthir´s armies, earning a stable income and…

“You are daydreaming too much, dear” Gaerdes said as she poured some tea for him. The smell of apple trees filled the room and he smiled as he received the cup. A cup of athelas tea was always well received. “Apples again?”

“Yes” he sighed. “Where did you get these?”

“I rescued them from some pigs early this day, thought that the healer could have a use for them… or us” she sat down with him. “With the looks we are receiving from the people, I think I wasn´t mistaken.”

“Me neither” he continued to empty the cup. If he had drank any poison, the athelas would take care of that. “The nerve of those edain, using such a great plant only to feed the pigs. They should learn a bit from Gaeruilion!!”

“They are too scared to even try that. I doubt they would even…”

“Were you talking about me?” the healer suddenly entered the room, accompanied by Rhossolas, another member of their small group, and surprisingly Amrod and Amras.

“No, we were just commenting that you would have some use for this” she handed over the athelas leaves, which the healer received with enthusiasm. He immediately left to tend to Lord Celegorm, who was getting sicker by the moment despite the water from Estë. Then the huntress got serious. “What are you doing here, my lord? I thought you were occupied fraternizing.”

“We were trying to learn the language of the locals… and we have made some progress” one of the twins said, Amras. “Apparently, when Morgoth passed through their country, he was a sustainable amount of damage to it and to several of it´s neighbors. Then some others took advantage and tried to swallow those affected.”

“That´s… unusual…”

“I doubt it, at least between edain” for some reason, they didn´t believe that. Or at least, they didn´t believe that of their Mannish allies and the Three Great Houses. “Remember what some of the Easterlings wanted to do during the War, they surely wanted the territories of the Great Houses for themselves.”

“So… is that why they are so distrustful of us?”

“I´m afraid that… is a different history” the other twin said, practically sighing in defeat. “Apparently, since our apparition, a rumor was started amongst the courtiers about the strangers the young King brought back from his expedition from the woods. It spread to the common people thanks to the servants” he breathed in and out again. “According to it, we are fairies.”

“Fairies?” they didn´t understand.

“Fairies, fae, fair folk… we can´t deny that we are not like them” the Feanorion frowned. “We have pointed ears, a beauty that should be impossible to them, a dog the size of a horse and some of us glow with light of the Trees… we couldn´t have avoided those rumors if we wanted to.” Amrod nodded. “Too bad it´s causing everybody to fear us.”

“Fear us?” Gaerdes asked.

“According to their legends, fairies cause sicknesses, led travelers astray and even steal children to replace them with one of their own… utter nonsense” but being fair, his brothers Maedhros and Maglor HAD stolen children, so... perhaps not that much. “And we couldn´t even blamed this on the avari, because it is one outrageous tale after another. For example, according to those tales, fairies are burned by iron too… could you believe it?”

“That´s simply stupid” the former marchwarden said. “Are those tales really the reason why people are so afraid of us? Because now they don´t even receive things from us… I mean, today an apple rolled towards me from a child and when I tried to hand it back, he simply ran away towards his mother. The woman also didn´t want to receive it…”

“Oh, that´s because you can´t accept food from a fairy. Nor a gift, because you end up owing them something and becoming enthralled.”

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

“The same as the other ones” Amras laughed a bit. “What things they must be saying now, that big bad fairy Hadlathon was trying to gain some slaves…”

“Please, don´t joke with that, my lords”

“I know, I know, sorry” the twin smirked and passed a hand through his hair. “Just to be sure, don´t pick up anything else and try to give it to anyone. Nor ask for names or say something about their manners or taking them to the woods. We can´t have people saying that we are trying to enthrall everyone.”

“What a bunch of superstitious idiots… are you sure they aren´t lackwits?”

“If this makes you feel better, there are some people selling iron amulets because of us. We are helping them to promote economy.”

“Ugh…”

Little did they know, that in other part of the castle there were people having a very similar talk about them.

“So, Sir Ellys, what have you found out about our foreign friends?” Gwayne asked. The man he had addressed had a knack for information gathering without being noticed. Of course, there was no way he could mix with the foreigners, but he could talk with the servants around them better than the King or his sister could. “Are more rumors about them that could make them leave before…”

“Frankly speaking, your Majesty, I doubt they could leave even if they want” Ellys answered, sitting down with them. “Their leaders, those redheaded twins, definitely would stay. Their brother is too ill to survive a trip if they do.”

“Then… you think they aren´t lying.”

“I´m certain of that. I have watched their interactions under different disguises and the way they act around each other with the sick one clearly is meant for a family member. And he is clearly too sick, he can barely keep food down.”

“Isn´t that dangerous? A plague is the last thing we need” Rowena spoke, holding her teacup with the grace of a Queen.

“I doubt his sickness is going to spread, your Highness” the knight answered, sitting down too. “In fact, if I´m sincere… you have heard the tales going around the city, no?”

“It´s hard not to hear them, especially when they make the citizens doubt me. They said the strangers are fairies and have enchanted me into allowing them inside the walls of the city, so they could enthrall more people” he shook his head. “Nothing further from the truth, I am still myself… but I admit that they couldn´t be human.”

“The glow some of them have actually made us aware of that, brother”

“Fairies or not fairies, they are something else not entirely natural, which is why the people are scared of them” Ellys continued, grabbing his own cup. “They are also very different from us. The blond one, the one that is sick… I visited him with the physician earlier today. Their healer tried to block the entrance, but I managed to see him without the covers, before the giant dog forced us to back out.”

“What did you see?” Gwayne asked, curious. “Is he sick because of an iron amulet, as the tales say?”

“No, your majesty, I saw his abdomen. It was bloated like a woman´s when she is expecting a child… which is why I believe is happening here” he took a sip before continuing. “If these creatures are not human, even if they are not fairies strictly saying, who says that they don´t live for thousands of years or even reproduce like us? Perhaps having a child for one of them causes this kind of sickness. Or it could be simply because of his own body. I consulted the physician after the visit and he told me that some women had rougher pregnancies because their bodies reject the child or other things.”

“It could be” the King was thoughtful. Ellys was trustworthy, he knew that. He would never deceive them and bring misleading information… but that was hard to believe. “And are you sure he is a…”

“A male, yes, but that doesn´t seem to avoid impregnation” the knight frowned. “Another thing that I noticed about them is that they bought lots of herbs. There is one in particular, a wild flower that peasants use to feed the pigs. I saw the female one fighting with a man over it… apparently it has medicinal uses. They called it Athelas.”

“Athelas… how do our people name it?”

“Nothing, they never give it much thought, so they didn´t give it a name” he shrugged. “They only were using it to feed the pigs because there is not much more to give them.”

“Hummm… and… nothing else?”

“I´m sorry” the other apologized. “The language barrier is still causing troubles. I have never heard a similar language on these lands, so…”

“To me too” Gwayne answered. “But we are both going to have an opportunity to practice it soon. I´m going to invite the twins to a dinner tonight. Is something small, smaller than any dinner with a guest my parents ever had… we can´t afford to waste much food.”

“You want me there to listen everything and try to learn more of their language.”

“Something tells me that we are going to need it really soon”

Gwayne couldn´t shake off the feeling, specially not that night. It began as any other, dinning with his sister and their two guests. They politely chatted in the twins´ language, at least as much as their limited understand of the tongue, which he later found out was called Sindarin, allowed them. Gwayne politely asked Amras about the health of their brother, even if they were already aware that the situation was dire, so the ambient went cold before Rowena decided to light up the mood asking about the fashions of the ladies in their country. He knew what his sister was thinking… and he couldn´t say he hadn´t thought the same. After all, to make alliances you have to…

“Your majesty!!” Pellinore suddenly irrupted into their room, something that shouldn´t be done… unless there was something dire. “Lord Aelle and his army are here!! They are besieging the city!!”

“What?!” the King got up. “How did we not see them?!”

“Apparently, they moved under the cover of the night, we didn´t saw them until they were too close” he gritted his teeth. “Your Majesty, there is a battering ram already at our door. I don´t think there is something that we could do.”

“We can give time to the citizens to escape through the catacombs” he proposed. “There should be enough time for them to prepare. I know that it could be dangerous through the night, so…”

“Lord Aelle has given us time until the morning to surrender” the knight said. “He says that if we do, he won´t put every citizen to the sword, but I wouldn´t believe him. King Egburt and his brother aren´t known for having mercy.”

“Something is something” Gwayne called for his armor. “Rowena, you have to guide the people through the catacombs. We will give you as much time as we could, you have to keep them safe.”

“I won´t leave you”

“You have to” he reminded her. “If it´s to keep our citizens sa…”

There was a strange, loud sound coming from the outside that caught the attention of everyone around, followed by the screams of terrified and dying men. Gwayne run towards the city walls and found a scene that should be impossible. But it was. Suddenly, an entire forest of strange plants had appeared just in front of the door, the plants attacking the men around them. The others seemed to be fleeing, all around them. They didn´t want to become food for the weird garden. Before he could ask what was happening, a figure in white robes, lifted by one of the plants, got into the wall. A young man with silver hair. There was something strange about him, even more than in his guests.

“Luhte?” he heard the twins say at the same time, directly towards the newcomer. So they knew him. This one stared at them and asked them something in a language Gwayne hadn´t heard before. They pointed to the castle and answered.

“Who is that?” the King asked when the boy left, knights parting as he walked.

“Brother son”

“What?”

“Brother son” Amras repeated. They definitely needed to work on their respective lan…

“Ah, your nephew!!” Gwayne finally understood. “He must have come a long way to find you here. Can I ask you how he did… that?”

The twins seemed reluctant to talk about their nephew, but the combined efforts of the King and the Princess managed to get some answers out of them. Luhte, as they called the stranger, was the firstborn of Celegorm. When they were asked why they hadn´t done something like the plants he had sicked onto the invaders, not only killing several of their soldiers, but also managing to get them some captives, including Aelle, brother of King Egburt; they answered that Luhte was special even between them. Different. After that, they didn´t manage to get much else out of them, so the siblings waited for Ellys´ report.

“The newcomer is more powerful than we believed” the spy said when he went to them the next morning. “He did something and his father showed some signs of improvement. He must have healing powers.”

“Do you think he will agree to use it on our injured knights or soldiers?”

“I think he would do anything for his father… they seemed rather close.”

“Our parents and us were rather close too”

“On another note, the rumors about the foreigners being fae has spread even further by his show of power. The citizens are both terrified and convinced that the magic is going to be their salvation.”

“Could it be?”

“I´m not entirely sure, but I wouldn´t put my trust in it.”

In another part of the fortress, Amrod and Amras were speaking with each other. Luhte had come… but even with his intervention, they didn´t think they could save this kingdom. Not infinitely. And they felt somewhat responsible, because… well, their banishment of Morgoth was what put them in that situation in the first place. There should be a way that they could help them get out of it… at least home was fine, as long as their nephew knew. So, so long as Turambar didn’t try anything else with any of their brothers… remind them to give him a kick to the balls, to both twins, by the way… everything was going to be alright there.

-On the road to Nargothrond-

Maedhros and Húrin were sitting down near the fire. They had marched for several days without rest to help the people of Nargothrond, but eventually they had to rest. Their soldiers wouldn´t be of help if they were too tired to fight any orc or spider or dragon they found in their way. Anyway, the next day, by midday, they should be arriving to the sacked city and need to be ready. But those were not the thoughts that plagued Maedhros mind that night, making it impossible for him to sleep. He hadn´t told anyone, but before he left Barad Eithiel and he was saying goodbye to his family, Ereinion had thrown the biggest tantrum until the date. He had clung to him, refusing to let go of his red tresses, screaming NO. he hadn´t stopped until Fingon somehow managed to open his little hands, to free him. It had broken his heart, but he had to go command the troops. It was his duty… but that didn´t make it easy for him to leave his crying elfling behind, even if he was in the safety of the capital, to fight again. And he couldn´t think of anything else but his son´s tear stained face since he departed from Barad Eithiel.

“Do you want some tea, my King?” Húrin said, giving him a steamed cup, which the redhead accepted. “It´s never easy, no?”

“What?”

“Leaving them behind, it´s not easy. Especially when they are babies and clung to you, asking their adar to stay.” The edain lord sighed. “Túrin was the same… once upon a time. Sometimes I wish those time had never stopped; my mane would still have some color left if the tantrums of a baby were the only problems I had to deal with regarding him.”

“I… I´m not going to lie, I don´t want to leave him. It… it´s like I´m leaving my heart behind with him… but I also know that I can´t bring him with me. It´s too dangerous for him and I need to know he is safe” he sighed. “This also has made me think about some other things that I have ignored these last few years.”

“Like what?”

“The Marches… and Himring” Nelyo looked up into the sky. “I have been living in Barad Eithiel since Ereinion was born and only nominally governing my lands through Maglor and letters… also, I should have been the first one to know if Glaurung was back” he, after all, knew about the Fall of Nargothrond and the dragon. “and to face him. I should…”

“My King, do I have permission to give you my opinion?”

“Yes, Lord Húrin, please.”

“Stop thinking like that. Glaurung didn´t come from Angband, but from Ered Gorgoroth, a place we can´t approach thanks to Thingol” he rolled his eyes at the same. “There is nothing you could have done to stop him from assaulting the city. You don´t even know how it was found, as it should be impossible. It is well hidden.”

“I wonder how the Worm found Nargothrond too” specially because Orodreth hadn´t built a bridge this time, not wanting to risk exposing his hidden city despite the banishment of Morgoth. A wise decision, as Glaurung was shown to still be a threat. “But that doesn´t mean that I won´t have to go back to Himring sooner or later. It´s still my fortress and I need to protect the…”

“Morgoth is no more, my lord, you deserve a rest and some semblance of a peaceful life with your husband and son” the wizened old edain told him. “Also, you have to take into account the age of your child. The little Prince is too young still, he needs both of his parents there. And he is still going to need you close for a long time.”

“You are right” he nodded. “Ereinion is still too young for me to return to Himring full time. For now. I will have to, eventually.”

“But that could happen when he is a little older or already an adult” Húrin continued. “Besides, it´s not like you are leaving it completely unattended. Your brothers and nephew are more than capable of taking care of things during your long absence. They already do!! So you don´t have anything to worry about regarding Himring or the Marches. Enjoy the time you have with your family while you can.”

“Sometimes, it amazes me how you can be wiser than me despite having lived less” the redhead said, smiling.

“It comes with getting older” the Hadorian said, throwing another branch to the fire. “I hope I could say the same for Túrin… regarding him, I want to apologize again. I never thought he would do something like that…”

“I´m not going to lie and say everything is okay… frankly, I was very upset. I don´t like people outside my family seeing my naked body, it is… disturbing for me” Maedhros frowned. “Still, I hope he is fine. For your sake at least.”

“Thank you”

Both Maedhros and Húrin had little sleep that night, worried as they were for what they were going to find in the sacked city. The next day, as planned, they arrived to Nargothrond and found the doors of the city practically ripped out of their hinges, with several bodies piled up or destroyed as if something really big had stomped onto them. Glaurung during his flee, perhaps. And they were not only corpses of the city soldiers, but of orcs. As the General gave the first orders to separate the bodies and organize search parties to go into the city, banners of Nargothrond appeared in the horizon. Maedhros breathed in relief as a banged up Orodreth, with bandages practically covering his arms under the dented armor, rode towards them with Gwindor by his side. Soldiers and some shaken elves that weren´t wearing armor appeared with them.

“Nelyo…”

“Orodreth, what happened to you?” he asked. “We have some healers, they can…”

“Let them attend the injured soldiers and the captives first, I´m fine” the King of Nargothrond answered, pointing at the others. “What happened here, Maedhros? First, we were notified about a gang of orcs that appeared and burned things in the north, then two spiders appeared and attacked us by surprise… we weren´t expecting the spiders, so the fight turned into a long one and we suffered some loses thanks to them, but managed to kill them in the end. Only for us to find another gang of orcs on the way back with some captives that told me the city has been sacked.”

“We aren´t sure. Gelmir arrived to Barad Eithiel with the news of Glaurung sacking the city and your grandson…”

“Lómëadur? Is he fine?”

“Yes, Fingon was putting him in the care of Ereinion´s nanny when I left the city. He is a bit shaken, but fine” he could hear Gwindor sighing in relief.

“What about Finduilas? Was she able to escape too?”

“Gelmir told us she remained behind with the guards.”

“Then what are we waiting for?! I need to go for my daughter!!”

“Orodreth, we need you here” Maedhros tried to make him see reason. “You and your men know the city better than anyone else, if there is someone that could guide us in our rescue missions, then it´s…”

“Then give me some men and take some of mine for the rescue parties, I need to find my daughter!!”

“Orodreth… Artaresto” Nelyo used his quenya name to make him calm down. “You have to stay here and help me with the rescue missions. There could be several people, of your people, trapped inside there.” The younger elf seemed about to counter argue. “Besides, before leaving Barad Eithiel, I send a message to Caranthir so he could be ready to intercept any party of orcs passing through his territories. His nephews too. All of them have palantirs, so if Finduilas was recovered, we would know.”

“What if she isn´t taken through those territories?”

“Artaresto” Maedhros approached, lowering his voice to whisper. “You should already know that Finduilas was taken close to Brethil when she was kidnapped after the Fall.”

“She was murdered near Brethil…”

“That won´t happen again” he promised. “Please, trust us. And help me help your people”

“A day” Orodreth finally said. “I will wait a day for news, then I´m leaving to find my daughter.”

“And I my son” Húrin added. “I´m not going to stay here, my King, I need to find Túrin.”

“Wasn´t expecting anything less from you” the General crossed his arms. “Alright, a day. Then you could leave if you don´t have news.”

-Near Brethil-

Finduilas glared at her captors. The orcs that captured her and others were fleeing at a pace that should be impossible, fleeing from whatever that red light had been. They were terrified for some reason. She had tried to listen to their conversations, but she hardly understood a thing. The only thing she managed to get that they thought that an ice demon was the culprit. What was an ice demon, by the way? And now that she talked about the orcs, weren´t they fewer than that morning? In fact, during the day they seemed to get fewer and fewer. Perhaps they were killing one another for the spoils? Before she could think something else, an orc suddenly collapsed in front of her in total silence. And another and another. Finally, the principal group was attacked by figures in black, which emerged from the shadows as if they had surged from them, burying their blades on their necks. Attack to vital points… the Caranthir Corps?!

“Have survivors here!!” one of the assassins said, untying the princess. When had he approached her?

“Good” the person who seemed to be the leader of the group came towards her. He was wearing a black leather armor with a hood, decorated with a nicely sewn eight pointed star in black thread. “Are you survivors of Nargothrond? We received news of the attack on the city days ago. Come, we are going to take you to your people.”

“I have to go back” she said.

“No way”

“And who are you to say what I can do?” she glared at him.

“I´m Avranc of the Haladin, great-grandson of Lord Caranthir Feanorion” he said, very sure of himself. “And I am the leader of this small party that just saved your life!! You are going to do what I say!!”

“Well…” Finduilas showed her teeth. She refused to be intimidated, much less by a Feanorian cousin that hasn´t still finished growing. Because the peredhel in front of her was definitely that young. “I am Finduilas, Princess of Nargothrond!! And I´m going to do as I want, so stay aside!!”

“You…”

“Oh, so you are Finduilas” another person, a Man, approached. He wasn´t one of the assassins, she was sure of that. So who… “I´m Hunthor of the Haladin, nice to meet you. I would like to let you go, but before, we have instructions from uncle Caranthir to contact the General to inform of your rescue.” He pulled out a round, smooth surfaced stone. A Palantir. “I hope you don´t mind staying a bit longer.”

“My people…”

“Those that fled and more that we and the men of uncle rescued have been taken to Obel Halad, where they are being taken care of. You can see by yourself.”

“I would still want to return to Nargothrond… after contacting Maedhros, of course.”

Huffing like the teenager he was, Avranc gave them space as Finduilas manipulated the Palantir. Maedhros answered on the other side and surprisingly Orodreth was with him. Her father practically showered her in relief at knowing that she was alright. She told him that she was going to return to the city, but he told her that no, that he was already taking care of that. Of course, she was sure that Orodreth only wanted her away from danger, but he also made a point. Someone had to see that their people in Obel Halad were fine. In the end, she decided to take a look to asses the situation first and, if the Haladin were taking good care of her people, then she would leave for Nargothrond. So she and her fellow freed captives followed the Haladin to their home.
When they arrived to Obel Halad, she found her people more than taken care of. The injured were being taken care of, the children were being fed and food, drink and blankets were being handed over to whoever needed it. She was about to ask if Doriath had sent medical help when she saw a known figure. A tall, blond haired known figure that she would recognize everywhere from her childhood.

“Artanis” Finduilas stood in front of her aunt, who she hasn´t seen for centuries. “I guess that you are here in the name of Doriath.”

“I´m here because Queen Melian asked me to take care of our people…”

“My father´s people, who you abandoned” the princess crossed her arms. “What are you doing here, Artanis? Why are you not safe in the Halls of Thingol with that sinda husband of yours? Why did you come back in the first place?”

“My sinda husband is the one that allowed me to bring so much help to your people.”

“So Thingol…”

“Thingol? My brother wouldn´t help anyone with the remote possibility of ever having been a thrall of the Darkness. He would outright try to get rid of them.” a silver haired elf said, getting up from where he was healing a little girl´s leg. “Well met, princess Finduilas. I am Elmo, prince of Doriath and leader of this little resistance movement that is currently smuggling resources to help your people.”

“Resistance movement? Against what? And why the need to smuggle something?”

“Against my brother, of course. Or at least his attitude against those that weren´t fortunate enough to have a Girdle to protect them” his expression turned serious. “I wish I could tell he isn´t going to harm your people, but that would be lying. In fact, to prevent that I have put Galadhon on duty to guide anyone who approaches Doriath here…”

“Why would you need to do that?”

“That´s what I would like to know too” Galadriel crossed her arms.

“I see” Elmo dusted his clothes. “Then we have a lot to talk about, my ladies. But first, we need to tend to everyone here. There is still much to do.”

Chapter Text

Finduilas have been quietly helping Elmo for a long time, taking care of the injured and handing over food and blankets, that she almost didn´t notice the passing of time until the night was there. She, instead, noticed how busy everyone in her family was, distant or not. Even young Avranc, who was helping his cousin Hunthor with the guard. How curious, she didn´t know that the relationship between Doriath and the Haladin was so tense. Or perhaps it was just because her people were there and she remembered that Lord Elmo told her about Thingol not liking those touched by the Darkness. In the middle of those musings, Galadhon, Elmo´s son, arrived with his son Galathil and another group of refugees. She was very relieved when she saw some of her ladies in waiting with them.

“Are you alright? Did the orcs do something to you?”

“We didn´t even see them, princess” one of them said, scared but unharmed. “We… the guards and us got lost as we escaped and only with the stars we managed to guide ourselves. We were about to reach Doriath when…”

“Be glad that you didn´t, then. You don´t know how bad it has turned out for those that are even suspected of being…”

“We are not Gnomes!! Don´t insult us in that way!!” the lady said. Elmo´s face morphed into one of rage as he glared at the nís, who recoiled. “I… I mean… we are not like them… we weren´t captured… we weren´t contaminated in that way.”

“Contaminated by what?” Finduilas asked.

“The same way as those kinslayers and Guilin´s son are.”

“And pray tell me” Galadriel appeared, seemingly from the shadows, behind them. “how are my cousins contaminated?”

“My… My lady…”

“I made a question” the older princess said, crossing her arms. Finduilas actually felt a little bit bad for the lady, Galadriel could be very intimidating when she was in that mood. And more when her family was attacked. Also, she might not like the Feanorions, but they were still her cousins, so she took the insult seriously.

“My lady…”

“Because I don´t think you were actually implying that the House of Finwë, First High King of the Noldor, has something bad with them, no?” this one shook her head. “Were you forgetting that they are my cousins too? That you were insulting me too by implying…”

“HALF-cousins” the lady dared to say.

“What does that have to…”

“Everything!! It has to do with everything!!” the younger nís dared to say. “We all knew there was something wrong with those… those Gnomes… my father said that they were all disgusted by Finwë decision to marry those two kinslayers´ spawn, but he was so enchanted with her that he wouldn´t listen!! I am disgusted too!! Who would choose to fuck one of those animals before a princess of the pure Vanya blood like…”

“So… your problem is with MÍRIEL´S line?” Finduilas asked, not believing what her ears were listening. Also kinslayers, animals… what was going on here?

“We all knew there was something wrong with that entire line, they should have never crawled out of Angband to begin with.” Galadriel seemed about to violently react to that idiot, but a hand in her chest held her back. It was her grandfather-in-law.

“Alright, I think we had all said too much for the first time. Go and try to grab something to eat before going to sleep” Elmo said, signaled at the place where a few elves were cooking. “And try not to insult too many Gnomes in the way!! Some might actually take it as an invitation to hurt you!!” the lady in waiting nearly fall with those words. Satisfied, the prince turned towards the two of them. “I think it´s time to talk.”

“I believe so too” the daughter of Finarfin said. The older elf looked around carefully and then took them to where his pavilion was build. His men were running around, making medicine and doing other things to help the former captives. “I guess you already can tell that there is something bigger going on here.”

“Yes, I guess you can call it that” Finduilas said, receiving a bowl of stew with a piece of bread. “What is a Gnome?”

“It´s a derogatory, insulting way for elves to call other elves that they believe are inferior to them” the younger princess actually choked on her food after hearing something like that. What?! And things like that happened in Nargothrond?!! Since when?! “It´s not a term for a civilized conversation… at least to those who are really civilized and not bigots.”

“Just to clarify, grandfather, who are those that would be considered inferior by other elves” Galadriel asked after patting her niece´s back.

“You know, Avari, some kind of the nandorim… former thralls of Angband… mainly former thralls, which are called Gnomes by everyone. Their descendants too.”

“They had a problem with GELMIR?!” Finduilas was scandalized. She noticed that her brother-in-law didn´t get out of home much, but she thought that he was a bit shy since his stay in that Pit left him deeply scarred. It never crossed her mind that he might be going through harsh times because of… bigotry… whatever it was.

“And Maitimo?” the Finarfiniel suddenly sounded worried. “Ereinion?”

“It´s most probable” Elmo sighed. “You have to understand, this is a kind of believe that it´s very extended in all the tribes. It span from when we were still in Cuivenen. When people escaped from there, they were never the same. And they died or turned dangerous, which started the believe that they were… twisted into something else. With the pass of time, that believe morphed into them being inferior, no longer elves. They also thought that those touched by darkness will never recover or become elves again because they were… dirty inside. And their descendants too… which kind of give some groups the excuse to exert violence against them.”

“WHAT?!”

“And by violence you mean…”

“My brother, Elu Thingol, usually don´t kill them all, but… from time to time, crucified some of them to the trees as a warning. Lately, he has turned even more virulent… which is why I can´t let your people reach the Girdle in good conscience. He and the others wouldn´t bat an eyelash at killing them just because of suspicion.”

“Is that why you made your resistance group?” Finduilas asked.

“No, that was because I also couldn´t tolerate in good conscience what my brother and my people were doing, specially not after meeting some of them during the Long Trip whose believes influenced me for the rest of my life” he looked at the stars. “They were strong, resilient people. Had been forced to do terrible things in the way… but they were good deep inside.”

“I can´t believe something like this is happening… or perhaps I do” the princess of Nargothrond stared at the older elf. “In DORIATH. But in my city…”

“There is an abundance of people with Vanya heritage there, no?”

“What does that have to do with all of this?!”

“That the vanyar are historically the most virulent against former thralls. And from what I have gathered, they still are. I heard from certain sources that Valimar is famous among the bigots for their abundance of them and the burnings at the stake. Burnings of former thralls or descendants” their expressions morphed into one of horror. “Difficult to believe, but true.” He ate a bit. “You see…”

Elmo spend the next hours explaining them in detail bigotry and what it entailed. The punishments given to former thralls and their descendants in Doriath, Valimar and Alqualondë and how that sector of the population practically lived in fear outside of Feanorian lands. And, even with them there, they still have to live in fear, as the other kind seemed to be more than them and could decide to kill them any day… if they were not using them as shield between Morgoth and their cities. Elmo also explained how his little group secretly helped with the trade between Doriath and Amon Ereb, not only for the profit, but because they could smuggle some provisions and other helpful things. It made both princesses breathe in relief, knowing that there were people who considered those bullshit actual bullshit.

But that didn´t calm Finduilas as much as it should. In fact, that made her feel even worse. Why? Because she had an example of that close to home and never noticed. How many times Gelmir had suffered from discrimination because of his condition? Everyone knew that he had been rescued from Angband, he certainly must have been in plenty of difficult situations since his return. Had he been in actual danger? He must have been, he was barely seen out of home and when he was, he was always with Lord Guilin or Gwindor, which was probably the reason he survived Nargothrond. And now that she remembered, this was not the first time she heard the term Gnome around her. She had overheard it once in her father´s study. It was shortly before Gwindor and her married; her father and her betrothed were fighting and she clearly remembered hearing Gwindor using the term to generate a response from Orodreth. He referred to both himself AND Gelmir as that. Perhaps he only did so because he was angered… had something happened to Gelmir around that date?... because she didn´t remember her husband ever having been in Angband… at least not as captive…

“What I don´t understand” Galadriel started, getting her out of her thoughts. “it´s why they refer to Míriel´s line like that. I mean… yes, I know that Maitimo was in Angband, but his brothers never put a foot in there…”

“Remember those I mentioned that inspired me into founding this little net to help former thralls? Well, I learned later that they had a daughter and her son and grandsons returned to
these shores in stolen boats” clang!! “Yes, exactly.”

“You… you mean…” Finduilas couldn´t believe it. She knew that their family had a complicated past, but for it to have more secrets than she believed…

“Yes, Fëanor himself was a descendant of former thralls through his mother. Which means that everything that I told you happened to them, probably happened to him. On a different level, as Finwë´s name protected him… but it happened.”

“But… but he… he was so arrogant all the time and…” Galadriel started. She couldn´t believe she had misinterpreted her half-uncle so much. When she was younger, Artanis always referred to him as a spoiled brat to her young niece, who thought the same as she listened to some anecdotes. How could they had been so wrong? Or was that arrogance only an armor, a mask to show to the world so they didn´t see how hurt he was on the inside?

“Frankly speaking, I pity him a bit” Elmo said, suddenly serious. “It must have been very difficult to grow up like that, with whispers behind his back and insults to his face. Perhaps even more, if they could get away with that. And his adulthood must not have been easy either. To fight so much, to sacrifice so much to gain recognition and fame, to show that he wasn´t inferior… when they said that he became inside… everyone has a breaking point, you know? And I think that he reached his long ago.”

Now Galadriel was feeling bad. If only her family and her had known, they could have done something!! And Finduilas was of the same opinion. The demented prince, as some called him, had gone through so much before he completely broke down… how had they not known something like that?

“Anyway, like I said, all bullshit…”

“EXACTLY!!” a voice said from the darkness. Much like Artanis, Avranc got out of the shadow he had been listening to their whole conversation from. He was frowning very hard, which the younger princess found cute. “I would like to see anyone who dares to call great grandfather inferior or Gnome to his face. Won´t last enough to say something else!!”

“I´m sure, little one” Elmo spoke, smiling gently at him.

“Don´t call me little one!! I´m twenty-eight!!”

“Really?” they were all thinking the same: you are a baby. The young peredhel blushed at that. He knew that he aged slower than men, but not as slow as elves. But that doesn´t mean they could call him baby!! He wasn´t!! “Anyway, I think you are very right, your great grandfather would kill them all if they dared to do something as stupid as that. Which is probably why my brother hasn´t yet.”

“Your brother is still stupid.”

“I wish someone apart from me has the guts to tell him that” the Doriathrim answered, smiling sadly. “Unfortunately, even Melian never tells him how stupid he is. And I know that she thinks so, we have talked.”

“Me too” Galadriel frowned. “She asked me for help in returning the Silmaril… but I don´t know if the King Greymantle is going to allow that.”

“No, he definitely is not.” Elmo sighed. “But if my sister-in-law is saying something like that, then it´s important that the gem return to it´s rightful owners and we should hear her out. Everything she says is for something…”

Then they were all of the same idea. Finduilas at least think that they should listen to the only maia they had closer to them. They didn´t stay there for much longer, as the prince noticed how tired they were and sent them to get some sleep. The Princess of Nargothrond was sure that sleeping was the last thing her aunt was going to do, probably preferring to have a talk with her husband. And perhaps it was the right thing to do, as if his grandfather knew about bigotry, as did his father and brother, then there was little to no possibility that Celeborn didn´t know. They needed to have a talk about that… and so did Finduilas and Gwindor, but that was for another time. For now, she wanted a good rest.
She traversed the camp, noticing the refugees setting up or already sleeping in several tents or houses around. Young Avranc disappeared in the darkness again, probably to go back to his patrol. If she hadn´t seen how efficient an assassin he could be, she would think such a young person didn´t belong in a guard. As she walked, she noticed another known person. She let out a sigh or relief as she approached Lord Guilin.

“Father-in-law”

“Oh, princess Finduilas” the nobleman did a small bow at her, nervously looking around. “I was looking for my sons. I know that Gwindor was with your father, but Gelmir should…”

“I tasked Gelmir with taking my son to safety as soon as it became obvious that we weren´t going to be able to fight them back. Don´t worry about him, I have received news that he arrived to Barad Eithiel safely.”

“Thank Eru” the nér let out a breath. “And Gwindor?”

“My father and him are alright. The Caranthir Corps had a Palantir that allowed them to communicate with Maedhros. They gladly lend it to me, we talked and they are injured, but being taken care of. Besides, it´s nothing life threatening” Guilin seemed about to fall on the ground from the sheer relief. “You should sit down, father, or you are going to fall over.”

“I´m only glad, I already thought I had lost a son once… I´m relieved that they are both fine, that´s all” he smiled. “My grandson too. Thank you, princess, also, for sending Gelmir away before he could get face to face with orcs. He has been… is still a bit difficult for him with all the memories of that place…”

“I understand” she tried to address the theme carefully. “and now that we are talking about that… has he been… having a hard time since he returned? Has someone… done something to make him feel unwelcomed?”

“I guess that one of those rebels told you” Guilin said, looking around. “But I guess that it was only a matter of time before you knew. It´s not something you could hide for a long time unless you are actively ignoring it or used to it” and did those words not hit a nerve inside Finduilas. “What did he tell you?” she quickly told him everything Elmo told her and Galadriel. “I see… all truth. Even the part about Fëanor.”

“I can´t believe it” she bit her lip, then looked at the Lord. “You didn´t think like that too, no?”

“I was part of the neutral faction when I was back in Aman… and here too. I have become more of a Pro-rights since Gelmir came back, but I also recognize how dangerous that could be, so I´m still a neutral… at least for the moment” he sighed. “I wish I could be courageous enough to do what…”

“Do what?”

“Forget it, it´s not anything we should be concerned about” Guilin smiled tensely. “Have a rest, Princess Finduilas. After everything you have lived and the work you have done, you need it.”

Finduilas also thought so. Besides, she was going to depart for Nargothrond in the morning to help her father clear their city, no matter what he said, so she was going to need the rest. She entered her tent and dismissed the lady-in-waiting that had spoken so disrespectfully at some members of her family. Her expression didn´t have a prize. She meant… seriously, Finduilas might not like Celegorm and Curufin, but this was a completely different. She was allowing the rest of her ladies take off the armor she had on herself when a shine from her neck caught the attention of everyone in the room.

“Oh, Princess, I didn´t know you saved this”

“Me neither”

It was true, Finduilas said as she took off the necklace. She remembered securing it on her neck as preparation for court, as symbol of power of some sort, before the dragons and their army of orcs hit the city. Apparently, she hadn´t removed it to put on her armor, which had protection for the neck that hid the necklace, so the orcs didn´t stole it and allowed it to remain with her. She caressed it, wondering if the jewel carried some of the will of Finrod Felagund, which allowed it to remain to with his niece. What to do with it then? She felt that it should be used to safeguard the lives of…

An idea formed in her mind, Finduilas left her own tent and made a beeline for her aunt´s. There, she found both Galadriel and Celeborn, who looked at other side when the princess practically barged in in her borrowed sleeping robes. Her aunt gave her a look, but she wasn´t about to let herself be intimidated and she didn´t care that she was underdressed in front of a nér that wasn´t her husband. Not when the lives of her people could be at risk.

“I need you to take me to Doriath, I have an offer to make King Elu Thingol”

“What?!”

“You heard me, Artanis” she crossed her arms. “As apparently that his kin being in danger is not enough for him to help the refugees of Nargothrond and me, then I will offer a payment in exchange for him not to touch this place or any of the refugees that got near the Girdle. He likes shiny things, no? then I will offer gems as the payment.”

“Finduilas, be realistic, what could you have that he would be interested in?” Celeborn asked, not taking his eyes from the ground.

“I have this” she showed them her necklace.

Up close, the Nauglamír looked even more magnificent than in histories. It was such a fine piece of craftmanship that she doubted that even Thingol would refuse her petition, not even being the most bigoted person ever was. And, while it would pain her a bit to part with a reminder of her beloved uncle, she was sure Finrod Felagund would more than agree with her that if that could buy the lives and safety of their people, then handing it over would be small prize to pay. He would also be proud of her… because she had matured enough to understand the responsibilities of a princess. Or to do something that he himself would have done if he was still there.

“It´s better if I go there. Thingol won´t harm a family member” Celeborn finally accepted. “I know. No matter how much grandfather bothers him, he has never harmed him beyond locking him up for a few years. And it was never as bad.”

“But what of Galathil…”

“I said I would make the offer in the princess´ behalf” the silver haired Lord said, making Finduilas curious. What had Thingol done to Galathil that Celeborn didn´t want to talk about? “I´m sure he is going to accept, he has some fascination for jewels and I´m sure one made from gems of the Undying Lands are going to get his attention. You wait here…”

“Of course not, I will go with you”

“You two are not leaving me behind”

“Galadriel, I know that Queen Melian appreciate you and put you under her protection, but you don´t know how my uncle could be. Neither do you, Finduilas. You have to remain here to be safe…”

“We are going” the both of them said at the same time.

Celeborn gave up, recognizing that there was no way to convince them to remain here. Besides, it wasn´t as if they weren´t right in that they needed to strike some kind of deal to avoid the doriathrim armies to attack Brethil. And he knew that if the King were to know that the refugees, or worse, the descendants of Caranthir were there, he would definitely hit the place as hard as he could. The Nauglamír could prevent that… also save the lives of those still there that were still going towards the Girdle. It was worth he danger that all of them were going to face by going to closer to Doriath.

-In Barad Eithiel-

Curufin had been practically keeping an eye on his son and son-in-law since he heard the news of what happened in Nargothrond, refusing to leave them alone. After the worry subsided and he was sure that his boys were fine and not going to fade out of existence in front of his eyes, the smith finally worried about his brother. He knew that Kanno had actually been injured during the fight and could die, but he couldn´t help himself but worry so much about his son. Not he felt guilty.

“Now he is stable” healer Madirion informed him on the entrance of the room the second son of Fëanor was resting for the moment. “It was something very strange. He was hypothermic, but I don´t know how he could be in such a condition… certainly Nargothrond didn´t have the same environment as the Helcaraxë.”

“You know the Helcaraxë?”

“No, but another healer that was with me threating him said that he felt the same sensation that when he was on the Brittle Ice” he nervously looked inside. “The strangest thing was that everything was so cold in his presence until yesterday… as if his body was emitting cold and making the temperature around him drop.”

“That´s strange” he sighed. “Thank you, healer, but I want to speak to him now.”

“Of course” but Madirion didn´t move. “Before you get in, I thought that you perhaps should know that he has been… showing worrying behavior.”

“Worrying behavior?” Curufin raised an eyebrow.

“Yes” the healer continued. “Like when he returned to the March of Maedhros after the war… do you know that he took care of Himring?” the smith nodded. As the Gap was completely destroyed in the Dagor Bragollach, stone by stone, and Maedhros was unable to return to Himring because of Gil Galad, it was obvious that Maglor would take over in command of the Northernmost fortress for the moment. “Did you also know that many of the trophies of war were taken there after the Fall of Angband?”

“No” he suddenly was more interested. “But what would that have to do with my brother acting strange?”

“Since he returned to Himring, he spent a lot of time with one trophy in particular. A big Warhammer that was put by itself in a camera of Himring, protections around it. A Warhammer that once was used by the evillest being in all the creation.”

Curufin nearly choked on his spit. Was he talking about Grond? His brother had taken Grond to Himring? Why?! Sure, no one knew what to do with the weapon that had felt from the hands of Morgoth when he had turned into a monster and fled the battle, but most of people, both Men and Elves, were in agreement that it perhaps should remain where it had felt. It belonged to that darkness after all… then why had Kanno taken it upon himself to take it somewhere? He didn´t deny that it was probably a better solution than they had all thought, as Grond probably would cause more troubles if a dark creature were to be able to wield it ever again, but that doesn´t mean it should be taken to one of their fortresses.

“And that´s not all” Madirion continued. “Lord Maglor doesn´t just spend a lot of time with Grond, but he also seemed to be holding conversations with it. Some of his loyal followers actually came to me to express their worry, especially since he decided to go to Nargothrond suddenly after a long session alone with the Hammer…”

“I understand”

Curufinwë sighed and entered the room. Just as the healer had said, Maglor was wide awake, even if he was still on bedrest. He looked a lot better, at least less of a shivering mess. He was looking straight through the window in a way that made his brother wonder if he had lost his wits again. When he arrived, Makalaurë seemed to believe he was hallucinating, something that alarmed all of his brothers. They had relaxed over time, as he seemed to have recovered his touch with reality, but Madirion´s declarations made him wonder if they had relaxed too much. Maybe some of madness was still inside of Maglor.

“Curvo…”

“Kanno” Curufin also had to admit it, it was cold inside. That didn´t bother him, but it might his brother. “I will ask them to bring a blanket if…”

“I´m never bothered by the cold, brother” he answered, sighing. “I guess you are already wondering if I´m not mad again.”

“Are you?”

“No”

“Should I believe you?” Maglor and him looked at each other. “Help to understand then, Kanno, how a sane person had been talking with an inanimate object like a hammer…”

“That´s because… I can´t tell you now, you are not going to believe me.”

“Kanno, I need an explanation.”

“And I´m going to give you one!! Just not now!! I… I need you and Tyelpe to come with me to Himring so you could understand. It´s the only way you could believe me… even if I don´t entirely understand it.”

“Understand what?”

“Like I said, it isn´t something so simple. In fact, it´s so complicated that even I don´t completely understand it… but think that the full explanation is going to come sooner than later” he glared at him. “The only thing I could tell you is that Grond is a bigger abomination than we believe and that it was created with a completely different mission than serving as Morgoth´s preferred weapon.”

“Then what´s it´s purpose? It´s a Warhammer, Kanno, it´s purpose was surely to be used in the battlefield and war!!”

“Curvo…”

“You might not be mad, but you are speaking madness”

Curufin left the room, his brother´s melodious voice following behind him, asking him to stay. He didn´t care. Whatever nonsense Maglor had in his mind that made him spend all his time talking a Morgoth´s weapon out of all things, he wanted to part in it. Everything has been going do well lately… he won´t risk that. Not even because of his brother. He was in the middle of a rant when he collided with someone. A small someone. He was about to say Pallando, but realize that it was his son, Paladin Took, who the hobbit had started to bring with him in his visits. The obnoxious mortal called it passing the guard to the new generation, as he would soon become too old to be their common sense, so he hoped his son took this duty from him. Curufin didn´t know what they would need a hobbit around always. Of course, they seemed to bring luck, but that doesn´t mean that they needed one at hand all the time.

“What is bothering you?” the young hobbit asked, genuinely curious. Reluctantly, the smith told him everything and this one seemed to considerate everything. “And… why don´t you give him a chance?”

“What?! But what he is saying…”

“Do you know how Grond was created?”

“No”

“And have you even scratched the surface of the secrets it might held?”

“No?”

“Then what makes you think that he is not telling the truth? Give him a chance, perhaps you will end up learning much more than you could believe. On another note, if after you have examined the hammer, it´s still just a big, evil hammer, then you should worry a lot, because he is without doubt a madman.”

“I… guess I will do that” he reluctantly said. “Thank you”

“See! That´s why you need a hobbit around as common sense official!!”

“Don´t abuse it”

“Sorry”

-In Ered Gorgoroth-

Túrin was starting to believe that this had not been a good idea. He was covered head to toe in spider web and more than once a giant spider had tried to kill him. He had only managed to keep himself alive because of his quick reflexes and elvish sword. As he advanced through the trail Glaurung had opened between the webs, he did his best to avoid fear filling his veins and bones. He now realized by Beren Echarmion refused to speak of what he had seen in this cursed place, but he refused to back down. Everything to become the man Beleg and their children deserved. Now he only had to go around this small mountain and...

“I knew you would follow me, son of Húrin” the voice of Glaurung made him stop as he stared directly at it´s yellow eyes. Stupid!! Now the dragon had caught him unaware!! “I knew you would want to become a hero so much that you wouldn´t resist coming after me.”

“Then you… were waiting for me? You shouldn´t have” Turambar asked, fighting with the enchantment.

“Shouldn´t I? After the Star of the North shone in all it´s bright again? No, son of Húrin, it´s exactly the moment to strike and make some distance between the Kings and their most loyal ally.”

“You won´t…”

“I won´t what? Hurt you, kill you? But son of Húrin, you have already done that to yourself. Setting yourself for heartbreak, loving someone that would never love you back in the same way you love him. But how could he? You aren´t even capable of remaining loyal despite how much burning love you have… why wouldn´t he prefer someone loyal?”

“Wh… no… no, he… he won´t… I will stay with him and stay loyal…”

“But he has already chosen him, son of Húrin, chosen him instead of you” the enchantment continued to be waved as Túrin felt deeper and deeper into it. “You have been aware of this for so long. He is always around your archer, always around his children, looking so close to him and claiming to raise your children… that is their father… face it, little Túrin, you have already lost him.”

Túrin sobbed, his heart breaking. He loved Beleg, he loved him so much… he thought that after this, they would be together, but he had already chosen someone else. Chosen Mablung over him. And without Beleg, he didn´t want to live. He prepared his sword on the ground, held between rocks, and prepared to fall over it. Yes, it would be better to die, better than to live without his beloved Beleg… it would be better to die by his own hand than facing the torment of a life like that…

Chapter Text

As soon as Nienor heard that his brother was involved, she knew troubles were coming. Túrin had, after all, a talent to find trouble that excelled everything she had ever seen. Without waiting for any opinion, he left the situation with the refugees in the hands of Lady Hisleth and took off for Ered Gorgoroth. Brandir followed her quietly with Lord Halathor and some of his personal guards, ready to help in any way. It bothered her that she had to wait for them to prepare and drag some strange wagons with them. Didn´t they realize that she didn´t have time to lose with provisions and armor when her idiot of a brother was doing who knows what idiotic thing?

“You are going to like this” Brandir said as he uncovered one of the wagons. His wife´s eyes widened when a weapon from Curufin´s make was revealed. “After the war, uncle Moryo thought that Brethil might become a target not only of the sindar, but of the remaining forces of Morgoth. So he asked his brother to make some preventive measures for us.”

“Curufin gifted you anti-dragon weaponry?” she asked, very impressed by her husband´s familiar connection. She doubted even her father could have gotten one of those weapons with all his influence with the High King… at least not unless he also involved Lord Celebrimbor. “And when were you going to let me know?”

“When it was needed” the Lame Haladin covered them again. He shook his head. “I never thought that your brother would cause so many troubles that I would need to get them out of Brethil, but I´m glad uncle thought about it for me. It was him that build the wagons and made them able to be moved in every kind of territory.”

“That´s good”

“Yeah, it is. Ered Gorgoroth doesn´t have a good terrain for wagons”

As they passed through the landscape, Nienor had little time to enjoy the beauty of it. She barely took into account that this was not the kind of sight her father would see in his youth, when Morgoth was winning the war. But she couldn´t let herself be distracted by something like it, not when she had a brother to save. As they got closer to the Gorgoroth, mountain landscape replaced the woods she was so used to. She could tell the exact moment they entered the
“Mountains of Terror”, as the wind suddenly changed into an stagnate, putrid kind of one. It didn´t take long for them to find the clues of the presence of giant spiders… it made them slower, as the wagons kept getting stuck in the webs and the horses kept trying to turn around and flee. Losing her patience, Nienor made her horse go faster. She would find her brother even if she had to do it alone…

“Nienor, NO!!” her husband tried to stop her, but she wasn´t listening. She left Brandir and the others behind and started searching for Túrin on her own. And good that she did so, because when she found him…

“TÚRIN, NO!!” her brother barely stopped himself when she screamed, just before falling into his own sword.

“Nienor?” he asked in disbelieve.

“Oh, daughter of Húrin, it´s such a great thing to have…”

“Shut up, you overgrown lizard!!” she stared down Glaurung, who seemed taken aback enough by the words of that small edain lady not to say anything anymore. “Just what did you think you were doing, Túrin?!!”

“I… I don´t have a reason to live anymore” her brother bemoaned. “Beleg didn´t want me and my children… I can´t live without him and them… but he chose
Mablung over me and…” Nienor could practically feel the anger growing up inside of her as she heard her stupid brother complain about how bad was her life without Beleg. “I don´t know what to do without him!!”

“Oh, please, if he is only one of the many, many elves you have taken to bed. And even if you love him truly, you certainly didn´t show that by taking so many of his fellow marchwardens to bed every time you are in Doriath” she put here hands on her hips, glaring at her idiot of a brother. “Besides, Mablung? If Beleg left you definitely, then it´s definitely not for him!! You can´t see in thousands of miles that those two are just friends!!”

“But… but they…”

“THEY. ARE. JUST. FRIENDS. Just like I thought Beleg wanted to be with you. He gave you some benefits that perhaps gave you a different idea, but that´s the truth.”

“Of course, not Túrin” Glaurung finally recovered enough to talk. “He le…”

“I said FUCKING SHUT UP!!” Nienor glared at the dragon again. Did he think she didn´t know what he was doing? He was enchanting her brother into killing himself for his own sick enjoyment. And while some might say that Túrin deserved it after all the things he had done and troubles he caused he deserved the death Glaurung had planned for him, she would be dammed if she let some silver tongued lizard take her brother from her and her family. “Be realistic, Túrin, he didn´t want to marry you from the beginning. And Mablung had nothing to do with it.”

“But…”

“If you want to listen to a lizard who only want to kill you in such an unbecoming way for a Prince of Dor-Lomin before your sister, suit yourself, but don´t come crying to me when I ended up being right.”

That did it. Somehow, her words seemed to slap Túrin back into awareness despite the power of the dragon. Suddenly, it was not everything about Beleg´s rejection of him, but the use Glaurung was doing of that. Túrin turned towards the damn Worm, wondering how he had been so stupid as to let him enchant him. Had it not been for his sister, then he would have killed himself, causing his parents a lot of pain and for the House of Hador to lose it´s make heir. He couldn´t do that, specially not to Morwen and Húrin, who had risked so much for him and always tried their best… it was specially not fair to them considering all the troubles he caused for the elderly couple.

His mind recovered, he turned his sword against Glaurung. Big help that turned out of be, when the dragon fully turned against him and nearly bathed him in his flames. Seriously, what he was thinking when he pursuing the fire breathing creature by himself? He must have really been suicidal. His sister also did her best to distract him, throwing rocks to the Worm before he could kill her brother with his fire or his claws. She was nearly caught by the fire a couple of times, but she managed to shield herself. It was during one of those moments that Túrin noticed that the times between the flames thrown by Glaurung were shorter and shorted. Also, that he put a face when he spew flames at them, one of pain… now that Túrin remembered, his father told him that Curufin had thrown flour at his mouth, which exploded inside it. Could it be that it had damaged the heat protective tissue in the dragon´s mouth and now he could spew as much flame as before?

“NOW!!!” Nienor screamed, clearly having noticed something else. Brandir, over a horse, made the signal. It was great to have troops that could sneak somewhere in complete silence like the Caranthir Corps at his disposition, he told himself with pride.

There were sounds of ballista made around them and suddenly lances similar to what Húrin described as Curufin´s anti-dragon´s weapons fell over Glaurung. This one screamed, getting up in his rear feet. That was when Túrin saw it, the still open injury in his chest. The one from the war that had turned him away. Without losing a moment, he run towards the place he could tell the dragon´s chest was going to fall and stood there, his sword raised high. He heard his sister´s voice calling him an idiot as the dragon fell over him and prayer that he would not end up dead too. Everything went black after that.

“Nienor!!” Brandir said as he tried to approach her despite his foot. He was still too slow, as his more agile wife quickly climbed down towards the valley Glaurung was in. She struggled with the (clearly) corpse until she managed to get her surprisingly still whole brother from under the Great Worm. “Is he…”

“No, he still breaths” she talked in relief, even if her husband was sure that she was going to give her brother a good beating after he woke up. “He is going to feel that later, I´m sure of that. And feel a lot more when I´m done with him.”

“Leave something for your parents”

“Of course, they would want their own piece of their son to rip him a new one” she sighed, passing a hand through her hair. “Going after a dragon alone, putting himself just under him so he impale it on his sword… he must have been dropped in his head as a fucking baby if he thought that was going to work!!”

“Well, it worked, Glaurung is dead” Halathor said as he examined the corpse. “Uncle Curufin is going to be glad that we finished his work. He is also going to want to examine the corpse and make something out of it´s bones and perhaps skin. They say dragons´ skin makes good boots.”

“He is a smith, not a shoemaker”

“That doesn´t mean he is not going to want the corpse” the peredhel shrugged. “Unfortunately, we don´t have the equipment to move something so big to Brethil for the moment. Also, our battle must have attracted some unwanted attention” more seriously, he scanned his surroundings. “We should get out of here before giant spiders show up.”

“The weapons?”

“We will have to come back for the projectiles later, but the rest of them are ready to move” he informed carefully. “The wagons are still going to slow us down and we will probably have to face some giant spiders on the way… like I said, we might have spooked or attracted their attention with our fight.”

“Then give priority to Lord Túrin and my wife” Brandir sighed. He was not made for this kind of thing. Administering Brethil was fine, but warfare… his foot didn´t allow it. This was probably the most warfare he was going to see in his life… and wasn´t enjoying this that much. “We need to retire quickly, leave the wagons if they are slowing us down that much. We can´t afford to lose even one man in this damn mountain.”

“Alright”

They were prepared to get out fighting, but they found a surprise. The amount of spiders they had to fought was small and soon they found out the reason. Lord Húrin was there too. Brandir rolled his eyes as his father-in-law hugged his daughter and went to see his still unconscious son. One simply couldn´t with this family, no? He was then surprisingly dragged along with Halathor towards someone in the same group as Húrin. Caranthir. What was Caranthir doing there?

“What did you think you were doing?!” the elf berated them as he searched both his nephew and grandson for injuries. “When Hunthor informed me that you had gone to Ereb Gorgoroth with barely enough men to get out of Brethil… did you know how worried I was?!”

“I´m… I´m sorry, uncle” Brandir said, actually feeling scolded. Like he hasn´t been since his father´s death. “Nienor wanted to come and stop or help her brother go out of…”

“I don´t care what she what or what her idiot of a brother did now, I care about you” the Dark put his hands on his hips. “Never do something like that ever again, do you heard me?” the Haldin nodded, looking towards his wife, who was probably getting the same treatment as him from her father. “Hey, eyes here when I´m talking to you. Knew that girl was going to be a bad influence.”

“That girl is my wife, uncle”

“And now has dragged you into a spider infested place in pursue of her brother who had not only insulted my family, but the whole elvenkind since he was old enough to know how to use his lower head” Moryo frowned in distaste. “I´m not going to say that he doesn´t deserve to live, but leaving him to get out of his own troubles for once would have been a relief… or at least taught him something.”

“Uncle…”

“I know, I know” he rolled his eyes. Then got serious. “Glaurung?”

“Dead” Halathor finally found the moment to speak up. “We stroke him with several projectiles of Curufin´s weapons and then Túrin killed him by plunging his sword into his belly. I think… I think he might have pierced his heart” he looked nervously at the edain. “But he also got himself bathed in dragon´s blood, so…”

“Don´t worry about that, he is going to be fine as soon as the effect of the blood is gone” Caranthir didn´t give it much importance. “But tell me more. Did the flames hurt any of you? Troubles to breath? Burns? Dragon burns could continue burning the skin and meat long after the prey is injured. Have you…”

“We were well protected, uncle, none of us is hurt” Brandir calmed the elf down. “And I think we should get out of Ereb Gorgoroth before something worse than a few young spiders come our way.”

“You are right” the Dark conceded. “But we should also retrieve the dragon´s body. Húrin” he called for the other lord, who was still by his son´s side. “Do you think you can lend me some good, strong men? We need to recover Glaurung´s corpse.”

“Is it truly necessary?” the edain asked. “We should let the Worm rot where he lies now.”

“We might get some information about his brood and several useful materials from it.”

“I don´t like it, but I will lend you those men” Húrin relented. “But I will instruct them to flee if this suddenly turns dangerous.”

“As I would my own men” Caranthir nodded. “Then I will leave Lord Brandir, Lady Nienor and Lord Túrin to you. Please, escort them to safety while we take charge of this… problem” he and Halathor turned. “Inform my brother of the reason of our delay.”

“What?” Brandir asked, frowning. “Are we not going back to Brethil?”

“No, you are accompanying Lord Húrin until Nargothrond, where you are going to wait for me and the rest to join you. Then and only then you are going to return to Brethil” the Haladin looked at his uncle with suspicious. Like always, Caranthir seemed to know more than he let out, but was unwilling to share. “Just do what I said, I will explain it to you next time we saw each other.”

The Halad wanted to demand for more information, but Nienor´s hand on his shoulder made him rethink his idea. He didn´t want his wife, the mother of his children, in that place. With a nod, he left Ereb Gorgotroth with his father-in-law and his army. He wanted to deny it, but he saw the logic in going to Nargothrond before directing towards Brethil. Maedhros surely had a complete army there and it was closer. They could get provisions, medical treatment and fresh horses, apart from protection, there. But that doesn´t mean that he liked it.

Nienor, on the other hand, was simply happy to get out of the Mountains of Terror with her husband, her brother, her father and even her own body intact. She hadn´t been expecting such great results when she was caught in the stable by Brandir, saddling her horse to go after her idiot of a brother, knowing exactly what he was trying to do and why. She meant, seriously? Did her brother really thought that Beleg was going to marry him just because he killed a dragon? The marchwarden would scold him and then tell him no again. And that answer was never going to change. She should know, she had talked to Beleg very seriously about it and the elf had put his feelings for her brother very clearly. After that, she had informed Túrin, hoping that he would be able to move on… it had only made things worse. Her brother was still such a brat…

“I´m sorry” she said to her husband, sitting down near him. “My brother is such an idiot and sometimes I can´t help but take care of him. I know, he is older, but so immature that I have had to act as his older sister and not backwards…”

“Stop, you don´t need to explain it to me” Brandir smiled towards her. “I know that you worry about your brother that much, and not only for yourself, but because of your parents too.”

“Well, I think that Túrin should have long since matured, but he only keeps causing troubles and roping in father to solve them for him…” her eyes took a vindictive tone. “Too bad his mistakes now were not so easily solved”

“Let me guess, it had to with what my uncle said about him insulting our family.”

“If you consider spying on your uncles in the bath an insult…”

“What?!” the Halad yelled with no small amount of disgust. And not only because of what his wife said, but because… it was HIS family. No matter that it was by a long since finished marriage, Moryo was HIS UNCLE. And the others were his uncles too. There couldn´t be any other way with how much the Feanorion had been there during his early childhood.

“My reaction exactly” she sighed. “You can punch him later if you want”

“I wish I would have let him as food for Glaurung”

“Several elves and you, my love, your uncle among them” they were interrupted in that moment by one of her father´s soldiers.

“Lady Nienor, please accompany me. Your brother has woken up”

Despite what she had said before, Nienor was happy to heard that. Of course, she still felt that Túrin should pay for his mistakes, but she was damn happy that her brother was alright. She ran towards the tent he was in, finding Húrin already there. From the entrance, she heard how Túrin was apologizing for all the troubles he had caused and say with a new conviction that he was ready to mature and marry like it was expected of him and becoming a Lord Húrin could be proud of. Nienor smiled. Maybe his dragon slaying stunt hadn´t been for nothing. Maybe it had actually made him wake up to reality, and, while he continued infatuated with Belg Cuthalion, he was ready to let go of the elf to finally grow up. She could only hope it was true, because her brother DID have what it took to govern the House of Hador. And he will.

“I will take up your word for this last time, stupid” she said as she prepared to make her entrance. It would be all they could hope for.

-In Brethil-

He had been watching them for a long time, curious. It was also the first time he had gotten so close to the Girdle, a sort of a forbidden place for him. Even so, he followed the three elves all the way to the barrier that separated Doriath from the rest of the world, alone. It seemed like a dangerous thing to do, but he didn´t care. If he had learned something from his great grandfather, it was that information was power and he shouldn´t miss any opportunity to obtain it. That and that the Sindarin were dangerous for them. Prince Elmo´s history had only reinforced those believes.

“Lady Galadriel, I´m sorry, but I can´t let your niece advance one more step towards our city. Orders of the King” a marchwarden exited the Girdle just before
they reached the border. “For her own protection.”

“I will go on my own then” Celeborn offered. “My wife will remain outside the Girdle to make sure that no harm will fall on her niece, who is also blood related to the King himself” he gave Galadriel a meaningful look, one that he took note of too. “We have an offer on behalf of Nargothrond that the King might be interested in.”

“Alright. Come with me, my lord”

“Lead the war, marchwarden Mablung”

Celeborn left the ladies alone, as he waited for Thingol´s response, taking notes of everything along the border. He couldn´t see inside the Girdle because of the Maia´s tricks… or could he? It was strange, but he saw blurry images inside of the Girdle, blurry images pointing arches towards the ladies. He could even say that most of them were pointed to Finduilas and the ones pointed at Galadriel were not pointed to kill. Did Thingol consider the life of his wife´s ward more important than her niece´s? Considering everything he knew about Greymantle, it was probable. He prepared to defend Finduilas if it was needed, but then Celeborn emerged from the Girdle, accompanied by that marchwarden from before.

“The King agrees to the terms that are offered by Princess Finduilas, heir to Doriath” Celeborn seemed relieved for some reason. Perhaps he had convinced his demented uncle that the princess hadn´t been taken captive… a lie that most of Nargothrond wanted to believe. Or perhaps, as she was dragged to Angband or wherever had supplanted that place as the center of evil, they believed she wasn´t a true captive. “So long as they don´t try to cross the Girdle, no elf of Nargothrond is going to get hurt by his forces.”

“I thank him for it” Mablung extended his hands in an almost ashamed way and Finduilas out the Nauglamír on it.

“I´m sorry” the soldier said before returning back to the Girdle.

The three elves now left, and he with them. Celeborn seemed relieved and more than a little bit exasperated with his uncle. Galadriel was plain upset, angry… she was surely going to make it very hard for Thingol when she returned… if she ever returned to Doriath. That if Melian didn´t do that for her before she even gets back, as she doubted the Queen would agree with the actions of her husband. Finduilas simply seemed relieved. She had secured her citizens´ safety and now she could move on to reunite with her father.

As soon as they arrived to Brethil, he went in search of his cousin Hunthor. It wasn´t exactly hard, considering that he had been searching for him too…

“Avranc, what in bloody Arda…”

“Hunthor, please, you have to lend me the Palantir”

“Avranc…”

“I´m going to apologize later for simply disappearing, but right now I need to get in contact with my great grandfather, please!!”

Hunthor didn´t seem that convinced, but he handed over the Seeing Stone anyway. Avranc fumbled with it for a few seconds before actually making the call. Caranthir ignored it the first few times, but he must have gotten fed up with the insistence of the person on the other side, because he actually picked up on the next try.

“Sorry, Hunthor, but I´m a little bit busy here with a dragon corpse and a bunch of spiders…”

“Great grandfather!! Something happened with Doriath!!”

“Avranc, what in the…” Moryo stopped and he could immediately sense worry and seriousness coming from the elf. “Tell me everything you saw.”

The boy did. He told him about how he followed Finduilas, Celeborn and Galadriel to the border of Doriath and he offering the younger princess had done to avoid her people getting killed by Thingol. Caranthir seemed interested in the necklace that Finduilas had handed over, even asked for a complete description of the thing.

“The Nauglamír” Moryo sentenced at the end, as if it had some kind of importance. “She gave him the Nauglamír. Of all the things she could give that madman, she gave him the only thing that could…”

“Is that important?”

“More than you believe” he sighed. “Tell Hunthor to reinforce all the patrols in the ways to Doriath, there are going to be problems soon. Be it with dwarves or with Thingol himself as he tries to…”

“Dwarves?”

“Just do what I say, he will take care of the rest” he sounded more worried now. “and Avranc, take care of yourself. I would hate it for you to end hurt in any way for you to get hurt in the middle of the storm that is coming.”

“Great grandfather…”

“I have to go now, be careful.”

The connection was lost, leaving Avranc with more questions than he ever had. Why was the Naulgamír so important? And why would it cause so many troubles with dwarves? They had crafted it for Finrod Felagund, yes, but they never seemed interested in getting it back. Apart from that, what was that that he felt in the Girdle? During it a second, it was as if he could see through it. Blurry, but see. That shouldn´t be possible, no? then how did that happen? This made no sense.

-In Nargothrond-

Maedhros stretched himself, trying to get rid of the stiffness on his shoulders and the pain he had from using the armor. He wondered for a second if he had gotten to used to paperwork and the mostly desk work of a consort that he had forgotten what truly made him a warrior and a General. He had found out that not, he was still perfectly capable of handling his troops and himself in battle, but that didn´t mean that his body had the same idea. He ended up with sore muscles because of the weight of the armor. Besides, he missed his baby and his husband so much that it hurt. Specially considering how him and Ereinion had parted. His little one had clung to his braids so hard…

“Russo?” Fingon´s mental contact through the marriage bond surprised him. By then, Fingon and his Army should have left Barad Eitihiel to join Caranthir near Ereb Gorgoroth and Nan Dungortheb, to ambush any bands of orcs carrying prisoners before they reached those dark places.

“Finno, I´m glad to heard of you” the redhead said, letting out a sight of relief. “Here we have cleared the city. There weren´t many leftover orcs, they seemed to have fled. And those that remained or returned have been taken care of. My men are disposing of the bodies right now. Tell me, how are you? Have there been troubles?”

“No. We suffered some loses at the ambushes and some of the captives were slain during the transport, but we managed to get most of them unharmed” the High King informed. “How is Nargothrond, by the way? Is it still livable?”

“Orodreth thinks that it will be, when it´s cleared of all orcs. Me too, despite some zones needing some reconstruction” Maedhros frowned. “Glaurung?”

“Dead, according to Moryo and the big carcass him and his troops have somehow managed to drag from a valley in Nan Dungortheb. Apparently, Túrin managed to kill him, but lost his conscience in the way. Húrin is with him and Nienor now, going towards you” he shook his head. “Curvo is going to have a field day carving into that thing.”

“I can tell”

“But not everything is good news” Finno continued, somehow more worried despite the confirmation of Glaurung´s death at the hands of Túrin. Just as it should have happened... except for the suicide part. “Moryo told me Finduilas gave Thingol the Nauglamír.”

“What?!”

“Yes, that surprised me too, but then, she must have felt the need to make sure her people and those that helped them from both Brethil and Doriath weren´t attacked. According to Avranc, it was the kind of agreement that was struck between King Greymantle and the Princess of Nargothrond in exchange for the Nauglamír.” He could practically see Fingon bit his lip. “Russo, this is going to bring troubles.”

His husband didn´t need to tell him. Findékanno might have lived the Fourth Age in Aman, but Maedhros had survived enough into the First to know what could happen next. Elu Thingol in possession of both the Nauglamír and the Silmaril was an invitation for the dwarves of Nogrod to Doriath, possibly even to sack it. It seriously marveled him, how much things have changed and some others remained the same way. It was laughable, really, to see Thingol still seeking his own destruction despite the Feanorions no longer being interested in Kinslaying their way across Beleriand. Not that they had forgotten the Silmaril, they still wanted it… only that they would take the long game now.

“Keep me informed, tell Moryo to do that too. If any dwarf enters Doriath from now on, I want to know about it.”

“Understood, General” Fingon made a mocking military salute. “Love you, Russo”

“Love you too, Finno” his expression softened. So weird… that there was still room for love in such a changed world, where some things changed so much while others remained the same.

-Far away-

Luhte knew he was being followed as he walked through the streets. And what a strange walk it was. The people went out of his way, holding what looked like small trinkets made of iron and other things, charm perhaps, in his way. There were open chats about him as he passed, not really paying attention to all of them yet gathering fear. He sighed inwardly. He knew that his entrance had not been subtle by any mean, but he had been in a hurry to reach his father. He had not meant to scare them so much. Returning to the one that was following him, he was doing a fairly good job. It was only because of his Ainur heritage that he was aware that his goals were different form the others. Obviously, he was meant to interrogate him or something like that, but he didn’t have any patience to answer some question in broken Sindarin, so he entered the first building that was not a house he saw.

And what a building it was. It was relatively big and people seemed surprised that he could step into that place. He looked around, seeing statues in front of altar. It took him a second to recognize familiar faces… or as familiar as beings who can change form could be. But he could tell who was who just by seeing the statues. Ulmo stood tall with his long beard and loincloth, Manwë regal in front of his altar, dressed as a King, with Varda by his side, equally regal. Yavanna held the fruits of the earth and Vana flowers in her hair. His aunt Nessa seemed to be about to jump in her dancing clothes, Tulkas wore armor as always and then… his expression soured when he recognized his father in hunting gear, over his steed.

“You don´t like?” the person from before apparently had caught up with him, because he appeared on his back, abandoning every pretense of deceiving him. He pointed at the statue and said “Béma… you don´t like?”

“Atar earned my ire long ago, it has only been sparkled again recently” Luhte said. The stranger surely didn´t understand a word, as the Valarindi has been speaking in quenya. Sighing, he pointed at the stone and said only one word. “Adar”

This seemed to surprise the other, who asked again, earning the same answer. The spy then nodded and went away, probably to inform his master. And Luhte didn´t care, he only cared that he remained close to his father. He crossed the city again, watching the starving people begin for food. He made an apple tree bare fruit just because he wanted, but the people seemed to avoid even touching the tree, even if there was nothing else to take to their mouths. Foolish, in Luhte´s mind, but he could understand them. They were afraid of him, so unwilling to accept his help. This city was also condemned, with or without his help. They simply didn´t have the resources to continue living and they should know it…

Ellys, for his part, went straight for his King. He had been tasted to find out why Farneluhte, the just arrived fairy, was so singular, and apparently he already had the answer. Even if it was one difficult to believe. Anyway, he should relay the answer to Gwayne.

“The young Lord claims that he is a son of the God Béma” both the King and his sister seemed to choke on their wine when they heard such a thing. “It surprised me too, but I don´t think he is lying.”

“What makes you think that such a preposterous affirmation is true?” Rowena asked.

“I´m sure you have noticed how powerful he is, including in comparison with his father and uncles.” He looked down to his wine. “I certainly doubt that that he had a reason to lie. Also, he entered the temple today and had a way of staring at the statue of Béma… like a son glaring up defiantly at his parent.”

“But you don´t have any other proof that he is not lying…”

“That is not the problem” Gwayne said. “What if he is saying the truth? We know that Béma is a wild god, and now apparently we have unexpectedly come upon one of his lovers… a lover that could be pregnant with his child.”

“Then at least Béma will look upon us and send his help… if it´s true.”

“Are you sure?” Gwayne himself wasn´t. He only knew that the next few months were going to be interesting.

Chapter Text

Maedhros was looking at Nargothrond as the last few corpses were removed from the city. The eldar were taken to be buried by his soldiers, while the orcs were unceremoniously dumped in wagons to be burned away from the city. Orodreth´s soldiers and Orodreth himself had been working with no rest to clear the place from orc presence so their citizens could return. It was not that they didn´t feel safe, but Orodreth couldn´t help but feel nervous with his people so close to such a controversial person like Avranc, who at that moment was in Brethil with the rest of the Haladin. He also wanted to see his daughter again. The Palantir connection had calmed him down and assured she was okay, but he needed to make sure she was really unharmed.

“I don´t know what you have against the lad” Maedhros said as he, Orodreth and Gwindor discussed the clearing of the city in the command tent. “I know he came to grow up to be my father come again, but right now he isn´t more dangerous than any other child.”

“You are underestimating him”

“No, I think you are overestimating him… at least for the moment” his son-in-law surprisingly said, serving the wine of all of them. “Avranc tends to underestimate himself, I learned that long ago. To his eyes, he could never be enough of a Feanorian. Don´t misunderstand me, he is crafty and brilliant in his own way, just not a genius.”

“It truly looked to me that he was when he massacred his way through Aman.”

“Oh, that was him reusing everything he had learned from previous geniuses. From Maedhros battle strategies, Caranthir´s assassin strategies, Fëanor´s incendiary rhetoric and genius smith work that he couldn´t compare, but with a new twist on Narétardur´s style” he smiled. “Lord Avranc wasn´t a genius, but he could join together the work of several to make everything in his own way.” The sound of horses distracted them. “What now?”

They exited the tent only to see a group of horses and wagons approaching the city, lead by no else than the Princess. Orodreth went to his daughter´s side, wondering what was she doing there. Gwindor was about to do the same when he saw between the multitude of refugees returning home his former leader. It was such a strange thing, to see him so young and unburdened by the loss and horrors of the world. The anger that normally burned in his eyes was gone, replaced by the amazement of a young child that saw a city like Nargothrond for the first time. He had to agree with his father-in-law in that moment, it was difficult to believe such a child had grown up to become the incendiary rebel leader that had destroyed Valimar and Alqualondë in his quest for revenge.

“Finduilas!! What are you doing here?!”

“I needed to see you safe… and guide our people back home” she looked around, seeing the wagons with the remains of orcs being carried away. “Tell me, is the damage so bad that the city is no longer usable?”

“No, it´s… some zones are safe. Some others need some reconstruction, but it´s nothing that we can´t achieve if we put some work” he looked at the refugees, most of them civilians but some soldiers with them. “But you shouldn´t have come back, you were perfectly safe in Brethil with the Haladin…”

“I couldn´t, you know why” Orodreth shivered when she said this in a low voice. “It´s safer for our citizens here.”

“If you think so” he refused to outright admit that she was alright. Gwindor smiled, his wife looked so sexy when she was subtly threatening her father… then Finduilas turned towards him and embraced him.

“If you ever hid something as big as this from me, I´m going to kill you and hang your entrails from the ceiling of our house for our son to play with” the knight shivered. Noted. “Anyway, we should let the masons assess the damage. There are several of them between the refugees. And the people need to see what was recovered and what was lost…”

As Finduilas took charge of the work to be done, Maedhros realized that his work there was over. And it was a relief, because, as much as Nargothrond has fallen and partially been destroyed, it was nothing that couldn´t be fixed like last time. History has been repeated, but at the same time it had not. Besides, with Glaurung dead, the Enemy has lost a strong underling forever. Túrin was alive, Nienor was alive, Morwen wasn´t lost to the mists and Húrin wasn´t chained to a chair, seeing the ill destinies of his children. Which meant that there was no reason for the Kin strife, which would weaken Moryo´s law-family. His brother would have to let go of his anger now and everything was going to remain peaceful…

“By the way, father, I had to give King Thingol the Nauglamír to prevent an attack on our people and the people of Brethil” and just like that, everything came crashing over them.

Orodreth´s eyes sharpened, the same as Gwindor´s. The both of them looked at Maedhros with the same comprehension. He already knew from his chat with Fingon before, but he hadn´t informed them yet. Reborn in the Fourth Age as they were, they surely already knew the history. Thingol getting the Nauglamír was a bad idea, because the idiot will try to add the Silmaril to the damn necklace with the help of some dwarves that were so enchanted with the jewel that they won´t want to let go of it. It ended up in the first destruction of Doriath… something that will weaken the free people no matter what. It was something that they should avoid under any circumstances.

“Artaresto” a person they never thought they would see again appeared then. Galadriel. “Nelyo”

“Artanis” he saluted his cousin with a bow of the head. She answered with a smile, something he hadn´t gotten from her in thousands of years. And not only because she hadn´t been there. “What brings you back to these lands?”

“Queen Melian asked me and my husband to come back” Galadriel walked up towards him, her expression morphing into something serious. “I think we should talk about it in private” he nodded and took her back to his tent, leaving Orodreth and Gwindor to take care of their own people along with Finduilas. “I heard that you and Findékanno married” he nodded. “and had a child?”

“Yes, fifteen years ago”

“Then what are you doing here?” she asked, surprised. “He is still a baby, he needs his birth father close to him.”

“I´m needed here” he answered, very clearly stared that even if he had become a father, he would still fight for his people. “Is there something you want, Artanis? Because if you want small chat, my time is better spent some other place.”

“Queen Melian asked me to organize a way to return the Silmaril to you”

“What?”

“You heard me” Galadriel sighed. “I don´t know why she would plan such a thing, as you certainly don´t deserve it. Perhaps she is just preventing a bloodbath in Doriath” as if Thingol needed his help to achieve that. “But I know Melian and she always has a reason behind everything she does, a reason that escapes us… so I´m willing to arrange something like this, even on Thingol´s back.”

“And are you going to achieve that”

“I´m not sure… and it´s not going to be immediate or fast”

“The Oath has been dormant for long since we recovered the other two Silmarils”

“But there is no guarantee that it´s going to remain dormant for long” she talked back. “I´m not going to say that what you achieved here isn´t marvelous, cousin, or that you haven´t done anything good, because I would be lying, but you have also committed a great crime. And I´m not sure you are not about to commit it again.”

“Give us the Silmaril and we are never going to be able to do it again”

“Like I said, it´s not going to be fast”

“I understood that” he sighed. “The thing, Artanis, is that we are running out of time. I can´t tell you exactly what was going to happen, but the shadow of death approaches Doriath. And it´s not going to be me or my brothers the ones that brought it. It´s going to be Thingol´s own stupidity and a group of dwarves from Nogrod” she seemed astonished. “The Nauglamír falling on Thingol´s hands is the first step.”

“So that´s why you, Gwindor and Orodreth reacted in such a way when Finduilas said that the Nauglamír had fallen into Thingol´s hands” she said, suddenly very serious. “If what you are saying is true, Nelyo, then I need to immediately depart for Menegroth immediately to warn Queen Melian.”

“And I wish you luck convincing Thingol not to do something stupid, even with the warnings from his wife” he shook his head. “I have lost my faith in that elf´s wits.”

“Because of the bigotry?” the redhead suddenly got very still. “I´m sorry, but I needed to ask. Now that I know, I have… gotten my eyes open to some things… and reevaluated my opinions about certain members of the family.”

“My father?”

“I have to say, I have come to pity him now that I know what he surely went through as a child. Had I known that before or had my father know, we would have done something to help him overcome his… difficult childhood.”

“There is nothing to pity about him. My father was an activist, someone that used his genius and past to do something for the community…”

“And you are proud of him for that” Galadriel smiled. “I would be too… but that doesn´t mean that there couldn´t be some pretty painful things in his past, painful things that we can´t really imagine now” Maedhros stared at her. “Anyway, I will leave for Menegroth as soon as I see Artaresto and his family are settled down. Wait for news from me before you plan any attacks on Doriath.”

“Like I said, Thingol´s idiocy is going to beat me to that” he crossed his arms. “Besides, I have a fifteen namedays old toddler. I´m going to be confined in Barad Eithiel for a long time, perhaps until he is an adult.”

“We will see”

Artanis left the tent to go tend to her family. Almost immediately, Túrin Turambar entered. He was still pale and sickly looking from his recent encounter with the dragon, but was already on his feet, which was a good thing. Maedhros almost asked what was he doing there, when the youngster bowed deeply to him and apologized for having spied him in the bathroom, promising to never do it ever again. Maitimo listened to him and while he wanted to hit him when he mentioned the incident, he let him continue. When he finished, the redhead thought that there was at least one small chance that the idiot didn´t end up killing himself with all his stupid decisions. Or at least last enough to continue his father´s bloodline.

By the end of the day, Artanis and some of the Men of Brethil left for Obel Halad, from where the Finarfiniel would depart with her husband to Doriath. The King desired her luck in her quest to help Melian about Thingol´s death by stupidity, they were going to need it. He was worried about that. For his own part, Nelyo prepared to receive Caranthir and his men when they arrived. He was surprised when they arrived, even if he knew that they were transporting Glaurung´s carcass. He actually had to pinch himself to make sure that he was not fantasying. Then he realized that it working out for them. Yes, Túrin still killed Glaurung, but he had not ended up destroying Nargothrond. It was good.

“Orodreth says that Nargothrond is going to recover and flourish again” the redhead informed his brother in his tent that night. “It´s going to need a little bit of work and perhaps… a little bit of help on your part?”

“I´m not leaving Amon Ereb to help Artaresto until this place recovers”

“Moryo…”

“I´m serious, Nelyo, I already have too much work there and now that Thingol has the Nauglamír…” his face contorted into one of deep worry. “I can´t take it out of my mind, Nelyo. The bodies in the trees, my little boys or little girls, dead and with… with… insults carved on their bodies…”

“I know” he said as he grabbed his hands. “It´s not going to happen again, Moryo, I promise you it is not going to happen again” he told his brother very seriously. “And you know why? Because it´s not going to be just you. It´s going to be me, our brothers, Finno… even Gwindor is willing to go to war with the sindar if they dare to do something to your children. Moryo, what happened then is not going to happen again.”

“And the Kin Strife?”

“Have you seen Morwen living among the Haladin? Because I have kept notes on that and she hasn´t left Dor-Lomin in nearly three years. For Nienor´s wedding, I believe?”

“Stop, I get it, it´s not happening again”

“Sure thing. Besides, even if something is going to happen with Thingol, we have time. The idiot hasn´t killed himself with his own stupidity.”

“Yet”

“Sad but true” he shrugged. “Come on, help Artaresto to put everything to work again in this damn city, show those bigots that they can´t do anything without a descendant of former thralls and put them to shame and then go back to keeping an eye on the sindar. Thingol is probably going to hold on until then. And if not… well, we have Mablung and Beleg on our side now, surely they can send us a warning.”

“Nelyo, thank you”

“Love you too, little brother” he patted his head. “You can pay me back by giving me some advice on how to avoid the temper tantrum that is waiting for me and Finno back home, not that the one Ereinion had before we left was anything but father-worthy… sometimes I can´t believe no one found out that boy was my son.”

“Uff, brother, you should know as well as I do that those things are inevitable. From father to father, simply let him scream his lungs out and hate you for a few days. He will stop hating you around a week or so… depending on how his personality is… after that, he will clung to you just like before. With my children, baring Elenammë, it always worked like that.”

“And Elanmmë?”

“Brother, you never understand girls. Not even your own daughters”

“You understood the taxing system before you were fifty.”

“It was easier to understand than daughters”

They both stared at each other for a single second before bursting into laughter. Yes, Caranthir had a rough time with Elenammë and not only because she was the only girl. And no one would understand more than his older brother, who had supported him through the process… and who had fled alongside him in certain occasions when someone had to explain female things to her. Oh, it was so good that Ereinion and the twins were males, he would have definitely had troubles if he had been raising girls…

“Tomorrow I´m going to go back to Barad Eithiel, counting on you to keep this place from falling apart around us enough to return control to Artaresto.”

“Yeah, yeah” Moryo answered. “Never understood how this place didn´t fall apart after Tyelko and Curvo tried to take over.”

“Bigotry?” Maedhros asked. “If they had heard them, then they would have took over the place or caused a revolt?”

“Would that have been so bad?”

“Yes” they both said at the same time. Then laughed again. It was small moments like this that made them feel everything was worth it. Even repeating one of the worst periods of their lives… the small moments and changes, big and small, made it all worth it.

-Far away, months later-

Ambarussa were both really nervous, hearing their brother scream as their nephew and the healers tend to him. It was too early, they both know, Tyelko barely graced the tenth month and it was no time yet, but somehow it was happening. Luhte said that, despite it being a risk to the infant, was for the best. The sickness had somehow been worse than when he was carrying his first two children, a little bit more and he would have surely died… with that early birth, there was a chance of both parent and infant surviving. But the screams were truly terrifying, so much that they were both glad they were youngest children and still babies when their only little cousin was born… also not there when Tyelpe was.

“Stop looking like that, it´s normal” Gaedes said, crossing her arms. “In fact, the only thing abnormal about this pregnancy is that sickness your family seems to develop every time one of you is with child. Even normal elven births hurt a bit!”

“I´m never having a child myself” both twins said at the same time, very serious.

“Cowards” she laughed. “Big bad scary kinslayers you turned out of be, recoiling in front of something as natural as childbirth.” There was wailing from the inside now. “And now it´s over.”

“Is Tyelko alright?!” Amras asked, worried.

“Why don´t you go inside and ask?”

The redheaded twins ran inside the chamber, seeing their nephew and healer Gaeruilion cleaning an infant with hot water and wrapping him in fresh blankets before handing it over to their exhausted brother. Tyelko looked worst than ever in his life, but he was alive, and so very happy when he received his newborn that they couldn´t believe he was still in danger… but he was. After all, their grandmother Míriel had died several days after their father´s birth from the same sickness.

“I´m not going to drop dead now, you idiots” Celegorm interrupted their fatalist train of thought. “Come here and say hello to your new nephew.”

“It´s a boy?”

“As far as I can tell” he answered, offering a finger to the infant, who had stopped crying and was looking at everything with a strange, too aware gaze for a recently born elfling. Ambarussa approached, looking at him. “Isn´t he cute?”

“Is he supposed to look at us in that way?”

“Probably, Luhte and Nella were the same”

“Perhaps because we were aware of our surroundings since the womb. An Ainur thing, because most Ainur turn adult immediately after they exit the womb” all the eyes were on him immediately. “Neither of us ever told you?”

“No” Celegorm answered. “then why did you latched on to me so hard?”

“Because I was still a child?” he frowned. “It´s a little bit confusing, but you will eventually understand” he looked down at his little brother with a strange expression. “Exactly how aware do you think he is?”

“I have no idea” his father answered. “I´m only glad that he was born healthy… and that plants aren´t turning crazy around him, as it happened immediately after you were born. I also remember that your crib grew roots the first time I placed you there… you don´t think that´s going to happen, no?”

“From what I can gather, he is completely different from me. Perhaps more like Nella… I can feel the cold coming from him.”

“Then he is an ice Ainur like her?”

“Yes…” Luhte´s frown deepened. “Are you sure Nella is an ice Ainur?”

“Is that truly strange?”

“A bit, considering that ice Ainur are supposed to be extinct” he then stretched his arms to take the child. “It´s getting late and you must be tired, atya. Let me take the baby so you can rest.” Before he could say something else, the newborn grabbed the tressed of his father with his other hand and squeezed the finger. “Don´t be difficult, atya needs to rest too.”

“Yes, Hyar, I need to rest too” Tyelkormo yawned. “Go with your brother, he is taking care of you until it´s time to eat.” The baby didn´t seem pleased, but he did as he was told. He actually pouted too, clearly a behavior that a child on toddler age would have. Or older. But his parent didn´t show much concern. “You get used to strange after two.”

“Wait a second, Hyar?” Amras asked. Not only a quenya name for an elfling that was born after they had practically left their mother language behind except when they were talking to each other, but the word was only the infinitive form of a verb. “Cleave?”

“For some reason, I think it´s the adequate name for him. Just like the ones I choose for his siblings” he yawned. “Now get out of here and let me sleep. If you are still worried, be assured that Luhte is not going to let me die and saddle him with a newborn baby.”

“Of course not, I´m never going to let you die again”

“Thank you, sweetie, but I doubt you are going to be able to stop me every time I got myself in danger” he yawned again. “Let me rest, I need to recover my strength soon. The faster we leave this place, the better.”

“Tyelko…”

“This place is doomed and you know it. We should leave before their doom drags us down like our own did the Noldor during the true First Age.”

Amrod and Amras knew, but they didn´t want to abandon these people to their deaths after they had been so good to them. Or at least Gwayne and Rowena, because the rest seemed to be completely scared of them. But the Feanorions also pitted them and felt some amount of responsibility for their situation. If they hadn´t banished Morgoth, then they would have continued with their peaceful lives there. Not that banishing Morgoth wasn’t a good thing, Beleriand was a better place now that the damn Dark Creature was gone, but considering the consequences…

“If you think that hard, you are going to end up as mad as father”

“Don´t even joke about that!!!” both twins said at the same time, offended. Celegorm smiled, approaching his brothers despite being clearly still in pain.
“Shouldn´t you be on bed?”

“Couldn´t sleep” he sighed. “With the Water of Estë and Luhte´s healing, I have healed enough to make a few short walks, and I´m confident that soon I´m going to be able to reassume our trip home. My abdomen still hurts, but it should disappear on it´s own soon, with all the attention my son is putting into it” he shrugged. “You should prepare, soon we are going to leave this place”

“But…”

“We didn´t come here to solve this people´s problems, you two, keep that in mind. Besides, I´m not sure we can do much for them. Not with the size of the army that is surely going to attack next time.”

“And Luhte?”

“Luhte can stop them for some time, yes, but do you think that someone else is not going to attack them when they are this weak? My son would be here forever if he were to fix every little problem they had, including keeping their little city.”

“Then what? Do we simply abandon them? After how they took us in when we needed a place to stay so you could be taken care of well?”

“What I´m saying is that we need a better plan than helping them keep this place, because that´s a lost battle” Tyelkormo looked at them straight in the eye.
“You already know what to do, no?”

Yes, Ambarussa knew exactly what to do. And they also knew that the people in that small city would not agree to it easily, even if it was the only way they could survive. Their fear of the supernatural was stronger than their common sense, at least on some. Even so, they didn´t see any other option. Which was why the next time they saw Gwayne, a few days after that, they proposed that he and his people escaped. They told him about the vast extensions of land the Noldor had on the West and that his people could become refugees on those lands. The young King seemed unsure, but the news about an army nearly triple the amount of soldiers he had on himself at the moment convinced him that their only chance to survive was to run. He went to address his people, as he told his sister to begin packing everything. Whatever that happened, whoever that accepted to go or not, she needed to survive.
“You have to take care of our people if I were to fall, sister” he said. “The army is barely a day away, we can´t possible evacuate the city in such an amount of time. Me and the soldiers will have to fight and buy you time to save the civilians. Go, find news lands to settle down and one day, if you find yourself strong enough, recover our home.”

“Please, brother, if someone were to survive, it has to be…”

“I´m noy discussing this with you, Rowena, I´m ordering you. You will leave with the people that agree to leave and take our people to those new lands we were told about.”

“And if they are deceiving you?!”

“It´s the same, escaping is the only way” he bit his lip. “We can´t fight back any longer, we will die from hunger in a long siege or by the sword when we are weak enough and easy prey for the invaders to kill us one by one without risk” the princess looked defiantly at him for a moment, before she realized that he was right. She didn´t like it either, but she needed to do. “Take Aelle with you.”

“What?! Are you really asking me to save that…”

“You can buy your way out of troubles with him in case Ecburt´s soldiers catch up with you. They would not dare to hurt their Lord´s brother, I can assure you he is going to be an amazing bargain chip if something like that happen.” He made a gesture with his hand. “Now go and pack something easy to carry, but that could be used if it´s needed. Don’t lose time or space in frivolities.”

“Brother… come back alive”

“I will try”

Rowena left her room with her heart in her throat. Ordering her ladies in waiting to do their own packages, she emptied her wardrobe completely. So many dressed and so few space. She chose three that didn´t only seem durable, but warn in case the weather demanded it, and another one for warm climate. She then emptied her and her mother´s jewelry boxes on them and made a package. Her eyes then stopped in something white, the wedding dress her mother had prepared for her for when she married her betrothed. Could she… she surely was going to need it in the future, no? She doubted that she was going to be allowed to remain unmarried, even if she went to that new fairy country she heard about. She quickly added it to her package. Content with that, she went to the kitchens to pack whatever meagre food she had. She wondered for a second if this was going to be her life from then on. Fleeing for her life, after having home and country ripped from her.

“Everything is going to get better” those words made her froze. She then found the one named Luhte, speaking in her own language, the newborn in his arms. This one was strange, too aware for a child barely out of the womb. “You are going to be happy in our lands.”

“I would prefer to keep my home and family, whatever little I have of it still, with me.”

“Then I will bring your family back to you” he turned around and left. Rowena breathed out in relief, his presence always put her nervous.

Once the sun was down, she and the other women and children, as most of the men had been drafted to give them enough time to escape, entered the catacombs. The secret passaged out that they were going use to escape from the invading army. The fairies were already there, the blond one being carried by the big dog that seemed to always be with him, his babe strapped to his chest. Ellys and Pellinore, along with a few of the soldiers, were also there, holding a captive Aelle between them. He should consider himself lucky, the scum, that they were going to save his life and not simply end it.

“Let´s go” Rowena said, grabbing a torch. She knew this place, so the role of guide fell onto her. She only hoped that she got to see her brother again…

-a few hours later-

Gwayne was tired. He and his soldiers had fought with bravery, but they had been corralled by the invading army inside the castle. There was no way out now… and with the few soldiers he had, there was nothing more to do than doing a last, desperate frontal attack. He prepared for that, but before the could do anything, the barred doors were reinforced with several vines. What the…

“It´s not time to die yet” Luhte appeared from the shadows, signaling another place. “Come”

The young King didn´t understand. This was supposed to be his last stance, but now… not doubting it anymore, he followed the strange being through the escape route he had for them. It was something out of a fairy tale, climbing down the window of the castle via a plant. Or crossing the sky in one of them. Before he knew, he and his last men were outside of the city, watching it burn in from the distance. His whole life was behind him now… but also in front of him. And Rowena… Gods, Rowena!! He needed to tell her that he was…

“Gwayne!!” his sister appeared from darkness and jumped into his arms. They embraced, just like the few family members that got their reunion. Including Pellinore, who embraced both his father and brother. A package was trusted into his hands. “I packed for you. I carry my own, so you do too.”

“Alright, alright” he saw his sister, drinking in her image. “Don´t you want me to carry your things for you?”

“No, I´m fine” the princess answered. “Let´s get going, we have a lot of way to cover before we are safe and much more before we reach the lands our dear guests talked about.”

“Yeah, we have” Gwayne looked back once more. He would come back, he promised. He would come back and recover his land, recover his country and crown. He would get the alliance of these being, even if they resulted being the deceivers the tales told everyone about, and come back to recover what was his. That he promised…

-Near-

This was bloody boring. He made such a rush to be born, but he hadn´t thought that his growing would have been affected so much that he would be unable to move on his own for such a long time!! Bloody boring… but at least he spared his father of the fate that awaited him if he continued inside of him. And Hyar could wait for a few days… who was he kidding, he didn´t want to wait!!! Unfortunately for him, it took months before he could gather enough strength to even shift into something that could move at his age. It happened during one of the nights, when Celegorm, already recovered, was away hunting and he left him alone with one of his uncles. He finally managed to shift into a fox. He could have screamed of joy, he was free!! And now… now he could do something more. Hyar ran through the woods, searching for something that would amuse him. Soon, he found a camp that didn´t seem to be from the humans that were travelling with them. Soldiers. Enemy soldiers. He already felt the trill in his veins. He stalked them from the bushes.

“What is that?” one of them said, pointing a spear towards him. He got out of the bushes. “False alarm, it´s just a fox.”

“Should we kill him anyway for it´s skin? I think it must be worth a few…” whatever he was going to say, was lost in the river of blood that sprang from his neck. Hyar smirked as he spit out the chunk of neck he had teared with his teeth, opening the carotid.

“You, little…”

His claws went for another neck, not covered by the heavy armor, as he jumped from side to side, evading or landing killing blows, enjoying the screams of pain and death, his copper red coat, so much like his hair, got stained with the life liquid. He licked the blood in his lips as he watched his finished work. Tasty… but he was eager for a true battle. Something where he could really prove himself. Well, he guessed he won´t have to wait so much. Peace never lasted long in a Land touched by Darkness after all. And war was coming.