silverstar, the silmarillion

xiv. a shadow of the past

thank you so much everyone for the 1,2k reads! i appreciate and thank you for reading and voting this book. enjoy!

"Elrond?"

Elros asked. They were playing hide and seek at the fortress, and currently, it was Elros' turn to seek Elrond. He had searched nearly everywhere and asked the nearby soldiers he passed, each of the men he had ask responding with a smile and 'no'.

Elros made sure to check every crevice of the rooms he had passed, after all, the fortress of Amon Ereb is spacious. When he passed Elmarë, she just furrowed her brows, but then she laughed pleasantly and crouched to his level and whispered to his ear, "Don't tell Elrond I tell you this, but I saw him pass the library."

Elros grinned, he had started to lose the hate and resentment he held against the sons of Fëanor, and when he saw Maedhros pass by, he walked towards him enthusiastically, momentarily forgetting that this is Maedhros, the cold and aloof elf.

"Maedhros! Help me search for Elrond at the library?"

The red-haired elf merely stared at him blankly, and was aware of his brother's and Elmarë's expectant gaze, to which he answered with an exasperated sigh, "Ver wel—"

His statement was interrupted when Elros reached over to pull his sleeve, dragging him along with him to the library. He heard Maglor's chuckles and followed the elfling to the library, just to indulge him.

Much to the horror and dread of Maedhros, he heard Elrond's voice reading a sentence that shall not be uttered, not after the horrors and deaths it had caused. Not after the grief and massacres, it caused. And an Oath it will become if you repeated it, whether unintentionally or the opposite.

"....Elda or Maia or Aftercomer, Man yet unborn upon Middle-Earth..." Elrond's voice read.

Maedhros had gone rigid, and he took large steps as he hurried over to Elrond's side, "Elrond, no!" He snatched the parchment from the elfling's hands, throwing it hastily into the nearby fire, and ignored the startled look Elrond sent his way, with a burning satisfaction as he watched the flames licked the parchment into ashes.

"But I was practicing reading Tengwar..." Elrond mumbled, confused at Maedhros' actions. He took a sharp inhale of breath, and knelt gently to Elrond height, pulling along Elros to stand by Elrond's side, his hand and stump on each of the twins' shoulders.

"Do not ever read any Tengwar scripts without knowing what you are reading. What you are reading is the Oath that my father, myself, and my brothers swore, and the same Oath that leads a-many wars. Whether unintentionally or not, you swore the Oath, only barely," he spoke, grasping each of the twins' shoulders firmly, his blue eyes losing their cold exterior, but replaced with concern and fear, fear of what may have become had he not decided to indulge Elros.

Terror flooded on Elrond's face, realizing how big of a consequence his actions could set as he read the script innocently. What could a six-year-old elfling knew of the world, and its history?

And now realization dawned upon him; that Maedhros had saved him from a torturous life, and he glanced at the Fëanorion with gratefulness in his grey eyes and sprang to wrap his arms around Maedhros' body.

He stiffened, unusual to the warmth that emanates from the little body, nor the feeling after many years. The last someone had embraced him was Elmarë, and that was weeks ago.

But he then started to loosen and accept the embrace, and allowed himself to be selfish for once, and closed his eyes; imagining them as his mother's arms.

As he withdrew, he felt lighter, and was faintly startled when Elrond bravely swept his hand against Maedhros' cheek, which was now damp with tears, slightly confused, he said, "Don't cry, Maedhros."

He had been crying?

He turned and stiffly wiped his tears with his sleeves, and noticed that it was already dark outside, and rose to his height, beckoning Elrond and Elros, "Come, Elrond, Elros, 'tis time for you to sleep."

The twins had to jog to match his pace, slightly panting, Elros asked Maedhros, who was staring forward with his usual unmoving facade, "Will you tell us a story like Maglor always did?"

The son of Fëanor halted abruptly, and tilted his head down, inquiring with disbelief in his tone, "Tell you a story?" Maglor had been doting on the twins?

Elrond merely blinked at him, repeating, "Yes, like Maglor always did."

Maedhros harrumphed and continued his pace, with long strides as he expressed his dissatisfaction, droving the twins into a near sprint to keep up with him.

When they arrived at the twins' room, they snuggled inside the blankets forthright and gazed at him expectantly.

Maedhros' shoulders sagged, and he sat at the chair as he told them a story of the Ambarussa.

...

Elmarë stared at the bright star with an unreadable expression, struggling to understand what she felt as she stared at Gil-Estel, whom she knew was her father as he sailed in the sky, Elwing's Silmaril upon his brow.

"I am sure your parents loved you," a voice said as if reading her thoughts.

Her hand twitched but showed no other reaction as she continued to stare at the star. She smiled bitterly, and answered the statement, "No, they never did. If they did, where were they? Sailing upon the sky with Vingilótë when their children are down here, wishing, that they would come to them."

Maglor stayed quiet, knowing the silver-haired elf's statement to be true. Long has the time passed since the Third Kinslaying, and the twins had clung to the hope that one day, their parents will descend the sky to take them, and care for them.

He noticed her hope thinned with every day that had passed, as she hoped the twins' happiness restored, which it was, just in a different way than she was hoping.

Elmarë turned her back from the bright star, blinking as she buried her bitterness deep, and turned back to face Maglor, smiling faintly all while.

I have let go of the past.