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Elured and Elurin ran hand in hand in the dark forest, and Elured’s silver hair covered them like mist, and Elurin’s silver hair covered them like wind.
They ran through the dark, and the silver starlight glinted, and the silver moonlight fell, and soundless, the snow glowed silver.
Elured’s hand was warm with bright blood in the cold, and Elurin’s hand was warm with bright blood in the cold.
Should we die? thought Elured in the black and silver silence.
I am afraid to die, thought Elurin in silver and black.
The trees reached up and up, shivering. Their branches were long and black and reaching.
Shall we die? Elurin thought.
Eventually we must, Elured thought.
They were not Beren, with strong legs and strong heart. They were not Beren with bright sword, and with the friendship of beasts and birds.
Like Beren they were orphaned. Like Beren, alone in the groping wood.
But they were small as shadow, slender as winter saplings. They could not run forever.
When we die we will die together, Elured thought.
When we die, Elurin thought, we will die as one.
There came a voice after them, calling, calling. There came a voice, red like the dawn. They ran from it, silver and silent. They ran like mist and like wind, and they left no prints in the snow.
We will die before we are taken, Elurin thought.
And Elured thought, we must die before we are caught.
“Elured!” and “Elurin!” the voice, unlovely, echoed. And the trees stood silent and listened, and the silence, crystalline, held its breath. The boys flitted from shadow to shadow, free as the moonlight and frost.
He is like Beren, the thought came to Elurin, unwelcome.
And we, like Luthien, Elured finished the thought.
But we shall not take his hand.
But we must not take his hand.
When we die, Elurin thought, Shall we take our hroar with us?
I do not know if we can, Elured thought.
When Great Grandmother Melian followed Thingol, she had taken her fana with her.
When Grandmother Luthien followed Beren, she had left her body behind.
The voice that called was red like bloodshed. The voice that called sounded afraid.
The trees above reached out darkly, concealing, and hand in hand, swiftly they ran.
The trees here, thought Elured, are hungry.
The trees here, Elurin thought, are kind.
The night was long, but it would not last forever. The boys were tired and cold.
The voice began hoarse and grew hoarser. It did not cease its call.
This monster belongs to the dawn, Elurin thought.
And we to the moonbeam and stars.
Before dawn, then, thought Elurin.
And Elured thought, before dawn.
The night began to fade grayly. Closer and louder the voice reached.
The boys came to a proud tree, old as Melian’s singing. Its roots were gnarled and sprawling, together they could not encircle its girth.
Here, they thought, as one.
Elurin pressed his forehead to the tree’s trunk, and softly, Elured hummed.
They lay down tangled together, and the roots wrapped round to hold them close, and despite the snow and the hard edged air, they felt warm.
Together, they thought, and as their pursuer’s voice broke the morning, they closed their eyes and they died.
Dawn came to Doriath as it had Thangorodrim, red and glorious and glad. Maedhros came to the place where the twins were, but of their bodies he found no sign. The earth had opened and swallowed them, and the roots had taken them into themselves.
So Maedhros went on in the sunlight, beneath the black tracery of shade. In a broken voice, still calling, calling. But not an echo was there to call back.