Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The day had begun to dim as he made his way down the road by the river, the fading sun turning the world a light blue around him. Having just left the small caravan that had, for a time, hired him as a guard, Maglor walked at a leisurely, aimless pace, meandering through  overgrown grass and young trees that spilled into the wider, more worn path ahead. 

He was silent as he did so; at this time and place, one could easily walk for hours and not meet a single person, and, to be fair, Maglor made for poor company even when he went out of his way to meet with other people, a rare thing done mostly out of necessity. Not even a warm night at an inn, which his newly earned money could afford him, appealed to him much. 

So he walked alone by the whispering current of the Anduin, carrying faces of loved ones and memories of travels past, and old songs of the long abandoned abode of his cousin’s in the nearby forest, all hidden cleverly in the lull of the waters, and, when he sang back, it too was nothing but a whisper.

Long ago, in his younger years, Maglor used to think of the whole world as his audience, but as he is now, terribly old and weary, he shied  away from the stage. He no longer deserved it. 

Once Noldolantë was completed, he sang it to exhaustion, and buried it, fighting it back and swallowing it down when he could feel his Song wanting to escape into the open again. 

It hurt, and that…that, he thought, he deserved.

He held back his tongue when he sat by the margin, trying to fill his waterskin as quickly as possible, before the river song overcame him.

But oh, how it lured him in. Despite his convictions, he stared into the current, into the rocks and sand, and all that dwelled in them, the water he had just gathered threatening to spill from the skin left open.

He should have left. He knew he might have lost his chance when he heard a rasping growl from the tree line on the other margin, and inwardly chastised himself.

Soon enough, a large shape came barreling through the foliage and into the shallow water, thrashing and snapping at something.

A warg, not yet fully grown, but fearsome all the same, spun around  in the water, trying desperately to shrug off a second shape that clung  to its back with a force.

It was a person . 

Maglor reached for his swords, against his better judgment, preparing to cut the beast down himself. 

He didn't have time to.

The person, armed with a dagger, raised one arm and plunged it into the warg’s thick neck with a nauseating squelch , and held it firmly in place with both hands.

The warg howled and whimpered in pain, and, with a final burst of energy, threw its weight forward, sending its assailant flying headfirst into the river. It panted heavily for a moment, sharp teeth bloodied, and finally collapsed into a wiry haired heap.

Slowly, the hunter- a young woman, by the looks of it- stood up, and only then did she realize she had a spectator. She gave Maglor a thoroughly confused look, tilting her head, as she clutched one of her thighs.

Then, she swayed and fell right back into the shallow water, unconscious.

Maglor frowned at the sight.

Oh, what joy! 

He grumbled to himself, cursing at nothing in particular as he waded to the other side of the river, and picked the girl up like a sopping wet blanket, thrown over his shoulder. 

He cursed some more as he had to maneuver his belongings around the girl’s body, including his forgotten, empty-again waterskin.

Now wet himself and looking like a burdened mule, Maglor left the road and walked toward woods.

***

Maglor sighed. 

Sat across from the unconscious girl, he finished packing away the few medical supplies he had on him. After he’d settled on a small clearing, later that night,  he realized what caused the girl's sudden fainting spell was a massive gash on her lower left thigh, just a little ways up from her knee. 

It bled profusely and it was a mess, although he could say with a fair amount of confidence no major veins had been severed, given she was still breathing.

Maglor had bandaged wounds before, some much more serious than this, but for all his experience he was decidedly not a healer, at least not when it came to suturing and patching up. 

Song, of course, was a different story. 

A powerful song, arranged correctly, produced quite a positive effect on the body.

But once again he shook his head, and refrained. Whether it was selfish, he couldn't bring himself to care when his damp clothes were chilling his back to the bone.

Setting aside his packed supplies, he turned his attention to something else. He placed it on his open scarred palm to inspect the object better.

The circular brooch the girl used to pin her pelt top shut at the neck, made of aged bronze, displayed a sun, or maybe a star, with eight points in total, that alternated in shape: one straight point, followed by a sinuous one, giving the impression the celestial body was spitting out flames.

It felt heavier than it should on Maglor's hand.

He wondered then just who he'd fished out of the Anduin, memories flooding his head as his eyes drifted, unfocused, to the small fire he had managed to start, to the prone form on the other side of it

Under the warm light she looked a bit less pale, though her face was covered by a sheen of sweat and her eyelids trembled rapidly, hair sticking to her forehead. 

She was clearly dressed with practicality in mind; her long sleeved shirt had been tied close at the wrists by a pair of leather vambraces, her boots were sturdy, but light, and her torso was mostly covered by a thick pelt that surely could stave off the elements. All around her belt were pouches and sheaths of different sizes, and Maglor wondered if any belongings had been ruined due to her impromptu dive.

A warg hunter. He didn't think there were any left.

Much less one as foolish as this.

He thought, recalling the girl's poorly conceived hunting strategy. 

Wargs were typically hunted in large groups, with long range weapons and never so close to dusk, never mind that the one she had killed was still a juvenile…

Ah, no matter. At the very least he wasn't dealing with any lost limbs.

Suddenly, across from him the girl gasped. 

Maglor only observed as she jolted up, felt dizzy and laid back down, absentmindedly reaching for her neck, only to startle up again when her hand did not meet her brooch and begin feeling her pelt, her sides, the ground around her, trying to find it.

Seeing this, Maglor scooched over, patiently offering her the ornament still in his open hand.

“Don't worry, I wasn't planning on stealing it.” He tried to assure her.

The girl didn’t look assured.

“The hell did you take it for, then?!” she snatched her brooch back and looked it over.

Her voice came out raspy, her throat undoubtedly parched, and she  coughed.

Well, Maglor though, If only someone had let me get my water in peace.

That wasn't fair to her, he knew, but the situation frankly had his own throat drying out by the minute.

The young hunter fastened her pelt shut,  fumbled around her belt and produced a flask, which she uncorked with an audible pop and took large gulps from, sighing with relief.

She side eyed Maglor, then ever so slowly reached out to offer him the flask. He hesitated for a second, but ultimately accepted with a nod, and took a generous gulp as well.

He regretted it immediately, his throat seized painfully and he just barely avoided spitting everything out. Whatever the hell this was, it absolutely wasn't water. 

Maglor forced the liquid down and started coughing profusely.

“What the fu-huck!-” he managed between one cough and the other, slapping his chest to try and stop them.

The girl- the little shit - looked surprised, but amused. Maglor could tell she was holding back a laugh.

“What? It's berry wine.” she explained, “It tastes nice.”

Maglor stared at her, breathless.

“Your idea of “nice” is very concerning.” he grumbled, and this time she did laugh, albeit quietly, facing away.

Whatever little joy she found in the situation disappeared quickly and for the first time Maglor took in her features in ernest; she looked quite young, but he couldn't tell how much, there was a broad air of exhaustion to her that was hard to pin down, a sunken look to her eyes that, for some reason, he suspected wouldn't fade along with the pain. 

 As she brushed a leaf out of her chin length, light brown hair, Maglor noticed there were quite a few clinging to it, which either went unnoticed or simply didn't bother her. Even under the light of fire, her small form looked as though it blended in with the surroundings, engulfed by the wilderness of the once elven realm. 

The thing that drew his attention the most, however, were the dozens of small scars and scratches all over her skin, which, he supposed, a mortal’s eyes might not be able to see as well as he could. 

“So…” she began “Do you have a name or…?”

“I'm called Laureo.” He said, his not-quite-fake name almost entirely real at this point. “You?” he asked.

She hummed, considering him, then answered:

“Eluded. My name's Eluned.” 

Maglor's mouth pressed into a thin like. He nodded.

“Are you lost, Eluned?” He asked, pleading with his mind not to think of a small elven prince, left for dead in the woods.

“I'm not.” 

“Is there anyone you can go to for help?”

“Me and my cousins are camped not too far from here. I should be able to meet them, once it's day.” she said.

“Good. Then we must part soon.” Maglor said, returning to his spot across from Eluned. “I'll stay for a bit longer, and leave before first light. You go ahead and get some rest.” 

Eluned studied him for a moment.

“Why are you helping me?” She asked with a small voice. 

Fuck if I know, Maglor caught himself almost blurting out.

“Should I have let you drown?” he asked instead, “Or left you to bleed out in the gravel?”

 Eluned blushed a little at that and looked down at her knees, fiddling with the bandage Maglor had wrapped around her left leg. She didn't question him further, wordlessly laying down on her right side, her back to him.

“Thanks…” she whispered.

For the next few hours, Eluned stayed in that position, so quiet one would assume she was asleep. 

Maglor could tell she was not.

Chapter Text

 He supposed this was what he got for his poor judgment. It was fine, he owned it, he brought it on himself.

“I'll be leaving you now.” He had told Eluned after shaking her awake “The fire should last until dawn, so stay by it a little longer. And don't force your leg, you don't want it bleeding again”.

 Maglor had thought that to be the end of it, except, of course, she didn't do any of what he instructed her to. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Eluned just a couple steps away, tailing him. He grumbled.

“I thought I told you to stay by the fire.” he said.   Eluned stepped closer.

“Well, you see,” she started “It just makes more sense to walk together, doesn't it? For safety and all…”. Maglor wasn't impressed.

“I won't save you a second time”.

“You won't need to.”

“You don't know that. Besides, you're hurt, you surely won't save me.” Maglor retorted, keeping his eyes on the path ahead.

“I'll be fine, it doesn't hurt as much anymore. I've been chewing on some feverfew, look.” Eluned showed him a chunk of dried leaves she scooped from one pouch. Maglor stopped on his tracks.

“That will make you bleed more!” he chided, finally turning to look at her.

 Eluned shrugged, popping the leaves in her mouth.

“It might,if I'm not careful- which I'll be- but it's helping with the pain.” she said as she chewed “Come on, we're headed in the same direction anyway, what's the harm in going together? I promise I won't bother you”.

“...Hm.” Maglor paused. sighed, waved a hand and started walking again.

“Fine. Do what you want.” He pointed a finger at her “But keep to yourself.”

 Eluned smiled, and followed. Her silence lasted for all of two minutes, before she exclaimed and half-skipped, half-limped past Maglor.

 Ahead was the Anduin again, as well as the abandoned warg carcass at its margin. Eluned walked up to it, ankle deep in the water, and slowly reached to the back of the warg´s neck, parting the thick hairs there until she found the hilt of her dagger still buried deep in its flesh and forced it back and forth, again and again until the blade dislodged itself. 

 Eluned washed the congealed blood in the stream and held the dagger close to her chest, considering the massive body before her. Maglor watched quietly as she reached for the creature’s partially submerged head, laying her palm on top of it.

“Rest now.” she whispered “Nothing can hurt you anymore.”

With that, she straightened, gesturing for Maglor to come along. He walked into the water, the two of them wading side by side in the frigid current in agreed-upon silence. He couldn't help but wonder at the meaning of what he saw, however, and so Maglor, ever so intent on never asking, broke their new found quiet mere moments after:

“What use was that?”

 Eluned looked puzzled.

“What happened to not talking?”

“Tell me just this one thing.” he insisted “Why recite words over such a beast?”

 He had met the Woodmen that roamed the south of the Greenwood before. The animals they killed, they held no real malice towards, born of the same soil and mist as they all were. Maglor knew as much. Yet, never once had he seen anyone spare a fell beast such as a warg anything resembling rites.

“Oh, you heard that?” Eluned heaved a sigh “Well…It’s not done, usually. Truth be told, it’s given me trouble before.” she looked down into the water, as if the subject embarrassed her. “I just figured it made sense. Other animals get sent off when they are killed.”

“Can you even compare one creature to the others?” Maglor interjected, dryly. Eluned hummed to herself, still not looking up at him.

“According to my elders? No, and I agree they are foul and unusual. Still, when they die, they give fur and good leather. Their bones too, sometimes.” she played with the hem of her dark-furred pelt as she spoke “So why not give them a word? It must be miserable enough as it is, being a warg.”

 Maglor shrugged in false non-commitment.

“Your forefathers would find it displeasing.” he murmured.

“What?”

“I said they must not find it displeasing. The wargs, that is."

 He scolded himself inwardly, reminding himself too late that the past and the family in it were not to be brought up so lightly, and he was prepared to lie his way out of the subject. Thankfully, Eluned didn’t press it, more focused on not losing her balance as she was.

 While the water reached only Maglor’s thighs, she was up to her middle in it, tiptoeing against the river bed. The feverfew leaves and the cool of the water were clearly not enough to soothe the pain of her injured leg entirely and she dipped a little further everytime she rested a bit more of her weight on it.   After almost slipping and going under for the third time, without warning, Maglor grabbed a fistful of fur and shirt at her back and lifted her body far up enough that the water now reached no further than her hips, both her feet dragging freely as he pulled her across.

 Eluned made an incredulous face, at a loss for words for a brief moment before she began to squirm and trash in his grasp.

“Wha-Hey! Don’t pick me by the scruff like a fucking puppy!” she snarled. Maglor held her further from him, paying no mind to the furious frown now directed his way.

“Oh, hush. Be still or I’ll lose my grip.” he replied, clearly not struggling to maintain his hold. Eluned squinted and huffed at him, tensing her shoulders and crossing her arms.

“ Hush? It’s you who keeps insisting on making conversation-Wait! Don’t drop me back in-!”

Her jaw clamped shut as Maglor quickly loosened and tightened his hand, just enough to startle. Eluned groaned and he grinned to himself.

***

 All in all, it took them the better part of two hours to reach Eluned’s destination, if not because of the pauses she was forced to make due to her leg, then because of the one hour she insisted they sit in the morning sun, to dry off their clothes some.

 Even in her state, she made her way deftly through the heavily wooded paths leading into a spot where trees were sparser and the first of three tents stuck out among the ground foliage.

“We’re here. Come, I’ll show you around.” Eluned pointed excitedly, and Maglor, who had a handful of half-formed partings already at the tip of his tongue, wasn’t prepared for the way she pulled him by the arm towards the camp.

 Much less so to find that the first tent, although standing, had all of its contents strewn about by the entrance. Eluned stopped abruptly, taking in the sight.Further, the second tent sagged at a strange angle and the third one had collapsed entirely.

 A number of objects, from spoons to unfinished arrows to pieces of clothing dotted the space between the tents where a fire, hastily put out with dirt, had once been going. There, in the middle of the disarrayed camp, a forlorn man crouched, his face hidden in his hands.

“Bryn?” Eluded called, with a tentative step forward.   Immediately, the man’s head shot up and he stumbled a little as he stood up.

“Thank the stars, you’re back!” he held Eluned by the shoulders “And Gaenor? Osian? Are they coming too?” Eluned shook her head no, wide eyed.

“I never met them. There was nobody waiting when I arrived, so I killed the young warg by myself.” she held his arms back, searching his face even as he looked down “Bryn, what happened? Where 's Branwen?”

 Maglor stepped forward, the sound finally managing to get the man's- Bryn’s- attention.

“Who did you bring back, then?” he asked, pointedly ignoring Eluned’s questioning as he gave the tall and cloaked figure a once over. Maglor noticed with discomfort that behind Bryn’s worried and suspicious looks was a real, fresh fear.

‘'Oh, someone I met. Says his name is Laureo. He sorted out my leg.” Eluned answered before Maglor could, gesturing to her thigh, newly bandaged after their swim in the Anduin. Bryn’s face softened at that, if only slightly, as his hands traveled from Eluned’s shoulders to her hair and began to ruffle it.

“Is that so? Well, thank you then, for caring for my little cousin. She’s prone to accidents, this one.” Maglor waved him off.

“Don’t thank me, she quite literally happened upon me. I couldn’t ignore it.”

Much to his own dismay.

He wondered how often Eluned had to be scooped up, bleeding and unconscious, by the nearest passerby. More often than she’d like, he guessed, if the blush that quickly spread on her face was anything to go by.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Laureo, this is my older cousin, Bryn.” she swatted at his hands still tousling her head. “Bryn still hasn’t answered my question.” Eluned elbowed her cousin, to get his attention back “Why are you back here and not somewhere out there, butchering the old warg with Branwen?”

 He shoved at her, halfheartedly, the worry from before returning fully, to weigh his face down.

“I wish I were.” he said as his eyes parsed the destroyed campsite. It was as if a shadow passed through them. “I should be. We were just about to ambush it yesterday, but…I don’t know how we missed it, but there were at least two more wargs than we thought, there, waiting-”

“That makes no sense.” Eluned interrupted “ I followed them. Tracked them for days, I would have noticed if-”

“No, listen to me.” he took her by the shoulders again and shook her once. “There were people with them.” 

“Fuck does that mean? Hunting them too?”

Bryn shook his head, gaze fixed on Eluned’s. His voice was grave as he spoke.

“Riding them. They were riding them, Eluned.” She went still. Maglor perked up from where he was observing; unconsciously, perhaps, he drifted closer to the pair.

Eluned opened and closed her mouth once, then twice, settling for frowning wordlessly at her cousin when she couldn’t come up with anything to say. Bryn exhaled a shaky, nervous laugh.

“ I know, it sounds absurd. I know that.”

 Not necessarily, it didn’t, Maglor thought. Not to him, of course.

 More than once they encountered them, as Beleriand fell further and further into ruin: the warg riding orcs, made to raze to the ground and tear apart and maul.   The glaring problem with the situation at hand, however, was that all the orcs were gone, wiped out under the command of the former King of Gondor, many years before. No, it would have to be mortals who rode them this time, but Maglor struggled to fathom what one would have to do in order to mount a wild wolf, stirring it as one pleased, without getting shredded to pieces.

 He glanced at Eluned, growing restless as she was, one hand buried in her own hair.

Or what it would cost someone to.

“...What about the others?” Eluned asked.

“Branwen was shaken up when she saw it and decided we should regroup. We went to meet Gaenor and Osian by the river, where they were waiting for you to bring the young warg around. Gaenor said they’d wait for you, so you wouldn’t get left behind, then come back to camp.” Bryn swallowed “We never met them again, either.”

 He turned to pace around the buried campfire and crouched beside it again.

“So, Branwen and I made it back, thinking we got away unnoticed. But night began to fall, and suddenly it was like all the animals around us got startled at once. A deer even came bounding into my tent.” he pointed to the collapsed tent on his right “It preferred us to whatever was coming from the other side. We wasted no time in killing the fire and leaving too, to hide in the underbrush nearby.”

“Why? Your fire was definitely big enough to keep wargs at bay!” Eluned admonished, crouching next to her cousin. Bryn shrugged.

“Not our smartest decision, true, but it was all we had time to do. Besides, we mortals aren’t scared away by campfires.” he sniffed “And by all means, those people we saw were here. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear their murmuring.”

“It went like that for a while. All through it, I couldn’t tell where exactly Branwen was hiding and it wasn’t like I could call out to her…”

 He paused. Eluned laid a comforting hand on his arm, but said nothing, waiting for him to continue at his pace.

“When dawn came, I returned…I hoped maybe she, or any of you really, would be here.” Bryn finished, words stiff with emotion.

"And you were right. I'm here now.” She reassured “Where there's two of us, there's a way.”

 Slowly, a fond smile dawned on Bryn’s face, and he nodded to Eluned, covering her hand with his own.   Maglor, who had been content to stand at an arm's length, came to join them by the black soot of the campfire, uninvited.

“In summary, you thought you were hunting wargs, when in reality somebody was using them to hunt you.”

 The cousins looked at him, likely not expecting him to join in on their conversation, personal as it clearly was. He did not blame Eluned for this bewilderment, nor Bryn for the nagging suspicion he couldn't hide everytime he looked at Maglor.

 Trust, even the fleeting kind begotten by a favor, was something he had learned to go without, his lifetime of towering, broken promises making for an unforgiving teacher, intent on leaving its mark.

 A lack of trust was an obstacle, not an impediment, much less when Eluned's sun, though dull under the shade of the trees, seemed to him like it burned. Not as the mounting weight of the last promise he'd made, one too many years before, slowly became too difficult to move under once more.

By the Powers that forsake me, I can never seem to rest…

“Forgive me, you two, I’ve intruded on your matters. But I must say this: leave this place at once; Isolated and injured as you are, neither should take on an unknown opponent.” Maglor said, gesturing between the cousins.

 Bryn looked at Eluned, who nodded at him.

“...I don’t like the idea of leaving not knowing where the others went, but…It's as I said, something is very wrong here.” he said, poking her arm “ So, if we are leaving, I want you to come with me.”

Eluned scoffed.

“Do you even have to ask? I’m definitely not resetting my camp anywhere near this one.” Bryn stared at her, then scratched his yellow beard as he sighed and knitted his brow.

“No, Eluned. I’m asking you to come home.” he declared, emphatic, watching as Eluned’s entire body tensed.

 She glanced around, as though, for a split second, finding the risks of staying agreeable enough. Her eyes wandered, intent on not meeting Bryn’s as he continued to look at her, as gravely as his gentle face permitted, until, finally, she hung her head with a defeated sigh of her own, nodding at Bryn without looking up at him.

 He smiled, satisfied, and tapped her shoulder.

“Good, glad to see it. Now, let me just gather what's still in one piece…” he got up and began rummaging through the nearest collection of scattered belongings. Eluned did not follow.

“And you? I assume you don't plan on staying either…” she asked, turning a morose head towards Maglor, who stood as well.

“No. In fact, I'd like to accompany you for a little longer.” He said, moving and adjusting his cloak under the straps of his bags.

 Eluned stared at his hands when he rested them on the hilts of his two swords, one at each side of his hips, more likely than not wondering how much help they'd be if the road ahead proved to be as unsafe as it now sounded.

“We'll be taking a turn South, won't that lead you off course?” She asked.

“It will not. Our path is the same either way.” Maglor assured, and Eluned shrugged at him as she got up at last.

“Well..As long as you keep to yourself.” she quipped with a smirk.

 He responded with one of his own, though on his stern face it seemed more like a sneer.

 Bryn returned, holding a pair of spears and two rucksacks. Wordlessly, he handed one of each to Eluned and threw his own bag over one shoulder, opposite to a recurve bow and a half full quiver of arrows. Eluned waved, beckoning Maglor to follow as they started walking away from the wrecked campsite.

 As he did so, Maglor tried valiantly to ignore the sinking reality of the process his decision put in motion and quickly found he couldn't. He sighed, absentmindedly running a thumb over the scared palm of one of his hands.