The little messenger of the Valar was actually very lucky to have found them all together at the same time.
There were many rooms and long corridors in Mandos. Ambarussa had found Curufin in this one some time ago, on the small outcropping of rock by an underground waterfall. And he would not be moved. He sat with a form that was barely distinguishable and stared out at where the water hit the pool, causing a continuous spray of bioluminescence.
Caranthir had no intention of lingering beside his brotherâs bitterness. He wandered, often to the Halls of Vaire. He met his grandmother and her handmaidens. Sometimes he looked for news in the tapestries. Sometimes he could persuade the solemn to give him work. They never let him do more than untangle threads but in a being barely corporeal, it was enough of a challenge to keep him for utter boredom.
Ambarussa wandered too, Amras trailing after his twin as he showed every nook and cranny left in the Halls. But they returned now and again, trying to coax their brothers into their explorations. Celegorm followed them once or twice but usually remained within eyeshot of the little room with the waterfall.
It was pure chance that Caranthir had ended at back there at the same time as the twins and nothing was said of it. They didnât speak all that much, well, save Amrod who never really stopped. He seemed scared of the empty space.
Mandos is quiet. For weary broken souls, the silence is a balm. A space to reorient and to heal. But Amrod has long come to terms with himself. Amrod is long healed and Caranthir knows the dark quiet has been smothering him. He thinks he may go mad and could almost laugh at the irony.
A light appeared in the doorway and it was strange. There was light down here. Green flamed lamps and plants that glowed hues of violet and blue. But this was different. This was warm and too bright for his imagined eyes. The figure obscured its glare was tangible enough for his footsteps to echo.
"What news, friend?" Amrod smiled.
Caranthir shivered. Itâs eerie the ease with which Amrod could speak with Namoâs Maiar. Their presence still filled him witth a sense of dread, though this one didnât seem to. Celegorm stood as it drew near but made no move towards it. There was somethingwrong about it. It was too bright, too solid -
âIâm looking for Maedhros FĂ«anorian.â
There was a beat of silence before Amrod grinned, âYou are not deadâ
There was a excitement in his voice that sounded nearly like a threat. The stranger lowered the lamp and as his face came into view, Caranthir was almost certain he knew him.
âLĂșthien,â he heard Celegorm whisper and with that he was certain.
âYouâre Elrosâ brotherâ he said as he rose to his feet. The elf opened his mouth to reply but for a moment no words come out. As if he didnât know where to pursue his first question or ask a new one.
âHe came this way before he left.â Caranthir continued making the choice for him, âHe also asked for Nelyo.â
âI am Elrond Peredhel.â
Half Elven. Diorâs grandson. He would have been the Prince of Doriath if fate and his family had been kinder.
âBut you are not following him?â
He would have assumed so. He knew their own twins dealt ill with being parted. Elros had not stayed long. Caranthirâs remembered thinking of asking him to carry a message to the otherside. Perhaps he should have.
But it would appear this one was not bound for the Doors of Night. Amrod was right, he was still living and evenso he could sense a solidness to his fëa that his brother did not have.
âNo.â
âWhat do you want?,â Curufin's voice cut sharp from his little crevice of stone.
âTo speak with Maedhros.â Elrond replied, undeterred by the coldness of it.Â
âWhy?â
Caranthir took a breath he didnât need, ready to defend the poor boy from whatever was about to leave his brotherâs mouth when they were both silenced.
âElrond?â
They all turned to the shadowed door.
Maedhros had arrived so close to fading, they feared they would lose him forever. Even now his fëa was barely a wisp of a thing. It was as if the darkness had found a voice.
âSo for this one heâll appear, but we are not so worthy,â Celegorm doesnât quite growl but Caranthir elbowed him as hard as an incorporeal spirit can elbow another. He might scare Nelyo away for another hundred years.
âMaedhrosâŠâ Elrond began, the word hung in the air a moment before he shook his head and looked away, âI have petitioned the Valar for your release.â
âLittle pity,â Amras echoed softly.
Elrond turned to the voice and nodded, âbut not none at all, I have come to you all with a propositionâ
âAll of us?â Celegorm said in surprise, he like the rest, assumed any bargaining would be for Nelyo alone. But the half-elf smiled and went to sit on a small shelf of rock. His grip on the lamp shook faintly as he placed it down.
He took a breath and said, âThe Valar, Namo especially, have no desire to keep you in here until the worldâs breaking. Some of you have been in these Halls longer than Morgoth himself and your crimes though terrible could not be counted as worse than his.â
Caranthir didnât intend to laugh, but Celegorm chuckled beside him and he found he could not help himself.
âEven so,â Elrond stared at them both unimpressed, âThere are many who would argue most of the great woes of the world came to being at Morgothâs first release and the Valar would have you free to sow discord in Aman. If you were to return there would be conditions.â
Unease shivered through his fĂ«a. Caranthir wasnât sure he wanted to know of whatever deal Elrond teased out of the Valar. Return would be a curse while the Oath hung over them. Here at least it slept once they realised there could be no escape from the Halls. Better they languish here until Maglor deigned to joined them, and with him any chance of reclaiming the last of their own. And then to Darkness, whatever that entailed. Compared to rhe alternative it would be a relief.
Not that he didnât appreciate the boyâs efforts. Misguided though they were he had no reason to go through the trouble. It was sweet really.
âYou would be put under the responsibility of one of the Valar and under their service â â
Never mind, he was a petty bastard. Caranthir almost respected him for it. He laughed again, harsh and deliberate. This had to be a joke.
âThatâs no reprieve, it is another prison.â Curufin had no face with which to glare. The flickering mist the made him up seemed to pulse and condense in on itself.
âBut we could be free of this place.â Amras muttered, wincing more out of habit than anything else as his twin gripped his shoulder.
âTo what end?â Curufin hissed, âAre we to be thralls until the end of time?â
âThe Valar agreed they would be poor judges of the length of such service. A small council was appointed to judge when it would be safe for you to be left free and unchecked. OlwĂ«, Elwing and Nimloth. Idril also was asked but she said would trust in the wisdom of the three.â
âThen we should be slaves forever! Who would agree to such a bargain?!â
More was said, by most of them, with far less grace. Caranthir himself had no desire to be the lackey of any of the Powers. He was quite comfortable down here, awaiting their doom in his own dread and despair and he was more happy to explain that to the little upstart.
Elrond sat patient enough until their protests died down.
âI have spoken with my father,â he said, quietly softly now, his eyes landed on each of them, âHe said if you would agree to these terms, he would return to you the last of the Silmarils for as long as it was necessary to release from your Oath.â
The silence that fell was black and cloying. Maedhros had told them he and Maglor had watched over the peredhel twins for a time. Heâd said little more, only to get him off his case, the last time they had been visited by other. Given the extent the Oath had ravaged him by the time he arrived here, they all gathered that it would not have been a pleasant experience for any involved.
He studied the boyâs gentle expression. Did he know the power he held over them all in a single sentence? He must. He must know he could get them to agree to anything for the sake of that offer. It would be a fitting and complete vengeance for this prince of the Sindar to hold the fate of them all at his mercy. Except he couldnât align such cunning with the person before him.
And for all the humiliation being at the beck and call of the Valar would be, given the truly limitless possibilities, it was a fairly tame punishment. Perhaps it would have to be for the Powers to agree to it.
âWhat of our father?â Celegorm said suddenly, his voice strangely void of its usual elegance, âand Maglor, we donât even know where he is.â
âThis offer is open to all of you, I can go no further into Mandos like this but Namo said he would speak to Feanorâ Elrond sighed, âAs for Maglor, he is found. He rests in my house.â
âIs he alright.â Maedhros asked in a tight voice.
âHe is not,â Elrond replied and for some strange reason he seemed grieved, âHe will not allow himself to be helped but has conceded to follow whichever fate you choose. I... it is not a choice to taken lightly, but please donât tarry, for his sake.â
âWe will do it,â Curufin spoke up. He paid no heed to the stared that stares leveled his way, instead he turned to Maedhros, âWe have to donât we? What use is there debating it?"
Maedhros sighed so deeply him might have dissipated himself into dust. But he nodded and all at once Caranthirâs grip on eternity pitched once again. He had half a mind to resist it. He did not have to agree to this deal that he had not hand in shaping or bargaining. There were too many loop holes that could be explored and exploited both ways. But a familiar heaviness gripped him and turned his tongue to lead. He could not risk Elrond recinding his offer by asking too many questions.
The smile on the half elfâs face was drenched with relief. If he didnât know better Caranthir would have thought the lantern itself shone brighter at the news. He couldnât fathom why. His head hurt, so little has happened for so long, for everything he knew to change once more! But to be free... Such hope was as sharp as a knife pericing the depths of his fea. He tore it out and shook his head. Free to do what?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
The snowflakes descended mournfully upon the dark hair and the colorless face of the man that until this dawn-named for his ruddy face- was 'Caranthir'.
Both color & fight leaving him hours ago, he was resting uncharacteristically peaceful upon the pyre. & above his sleeping figure, in the land of songs, stood his brother the minstrel.
Just like the land and his raging little brothers, the minstrel was unusually quiet.
A better minstrel would walk into this land with harp in hand, not sword.
The land that bore the memory of the half-elven, half-god Princess singing and dancing and changing the rules of the world and destroying the barriers between mortality and immortality. Of the nightingles going quiet to listen to the queen everytime she started singing. Of the love that this land bore. Between a maia and an elf. Between an elf and a man. The land that beyond its now destroyed border, the borders were meaningless.
The stories would come to life for a better minstrel to make songs of.
But this minstrel...this minstrel brought an end to all these tales.
And if he tried to sing now, the sound would break in his throat and bar the way.
Let the snow bury all memory of songs & sounds and footprints of the princess dancing & tales shaping beneath.
Let there be quiet.
Someone approached, bearing the sword of his little brothers. And offered Caranthir's sword to him to place in his empty crossed hands.
The minstrel shook his head. His hand reached for his brother's. Gently stroking it.
He would not place swords in his brothers' hands.
A flower, enduring the cold of the winter, would have been better. symbolizing that even with winter embracing his brothers now, they might still blossom in another world. Only in soul if not in body.
But he would not pick any flowers from this land that he had laid waste to. Even if the king had destroyed him & his brothers by withholding their birthright from them, he was not the one taking away what he had no right to.
So his brothers' hands would remain empty.
But he would not lay sword in their hands. May they find the peace in death that they could not in life.
***
He was talking to Fingon. About what he could not quite remember. Everything and nothing, as usual. It hit him suddenly. He was supposed to look after his little brothers!
He had come here with them! And now there was no trace of them!
All thoughts but his brothers gone from him, he turned from Fingon mid-conversation. Shouting for "Turko! Curvo! Moryo!"
He could hear his heartbeat drumming in his ears. His mouth went dry and his breath came in gasps.
"What shall i do now, Findekano ?!"
"We will find them. They can not have gone too far. Never fear "
Can they not ? He forgot that he was supposed to take care of them! Who knows for how long they have been gone!
He set to run deeper into the woods they've been standing on the edge of. Shouting his brothers' names.
Why would they run out of his sight in the first place?
Turko this is your doing ! Oh, wait until get you!
He thought bitterly as he ran shouting.
Looking up through the tree branches as well as among them.
It was impossible to find them here!
Oh, poor things they must be so frightened!
What shall I say to mother?! I better not go home at all than go without the children!
Maybe Fingon has found them... he shouted for Fingon now. No sound came in response.
He looked around. There was no trace of Fingon...why didn't they think of a way to contact each other before departing! Now they had lost each other too!
He should go home and inform his parents. They could do something. They could gather a search party...look into the palantirs....ask Manwë for help...
But no by the time he gets there and the search party has gathered the children could be eaten by wild animals...or freeze in the snow...which was covering the ground and making it harder for him to look for the footprints he already could not find.
Snow ?!
There was no winter of death in Valinor...
Now looking around, he noticed that the woods did not look familiar...where was this place?
Oh...now he himself was lost too! But...that was for the better...he couldn't go home without the children.
Then he suddenly heard a crow.
No! no not crows! that's not a good sign! They feed on the-...no! no not the crows!
The crow cawed louder.
And Maedhros woke up.
Just above his head, on a tree, the crow was still cawing.
snow had covered him whole. He could not remember when he had fallen asleep.
But before he could let out a sigh of relief that it was all a dream, the reality sank in.
He got up immediately, snow falling down from him. he rushed to where the pyres were.
His brothers were still lying peacefully with his other brothers standing watch over them. No crows were bothering them.
But who did the sons of Dior have to stand between them and the crows?
The eyes of Celebrimbor spoke of unspeakable pain as he turned from Amras' embrace towards his eldest uncle.
Maedhros wanted to get up and embrace him. But he could not find the will. Since he sat down an hour ago after hours of standing and walking and running and fighting, he suddenly realized how exhausted he was. And he did not have the will to get up. Or to cry. Or to speak. Or to be.
He took the sword lying by his side and held it out towards Celebrimbor. He looked at his father's sword for a moment and tears welled up in his eyes. His hands reached the sword hesitantly. as he took it in his hand tears finally streamed freely.
Looking at Celebrimbor, it sank in that even Curufin's son had cut all ties with him. He wasn't with him in his last years. And when they sent him the letter, they had not been certain that he would come. But it was the right thing to do. And fortunately, he was nearby.
But even now there was more than sorrow just for Curufin's death in Celebrimbor's eyes. A sorrow for the deaths he brought upon others.
This was how his brothers were going to be remembered. Forever.
With all his being, Maedhros wanted to comfort Celebrimbor. To rise and embrace him. After all, his father was not here to comfort him. His father was not here at all. Would never be again.
Maglor finally came and put a comforting hand on Celebrimbor's shoulder. After nodding to Maedhros to do so to no avail. Maedhros should have comforted Maglor too. And Ambarussar. His remaining little brothers. But really, he had no comfort to give. Eyes fixated on Celebrimbor, he finally felt tears stinging his eyes. And he turned his head. Looking at the ground.
Finally, Celebrimbor spoke:"Nuncle...listen...I...we-...lost enough. Nay. More than enough. But this...we can't lose ourselves like this! You-all of you, have done so much for these lands. These lands were safe for centuries because of you. This! This here! Can't be your legacy. This cannot be how you will be remembered!
Please nuncle dear, end this now. it's not too late! We can start all over again...you've done it before after all! ask for forgiveness, built again what has been lost, protect what's remained, ..anything but this...I-I don't want to lose you. You're all I have left.Please."
There was a momentary silence.
Maedhros finally got to his feet. Not looking at Celebrimbor, he made to leave, his hand rested on Celebrimbor's shoulder for a second.
"I am sorry, Tyelpe. You deserved better."
He tried. He really tried to end it there and then. He tried for a long time.
But as always, it wasn't enough.
***
The time came for the last farewell. Maedhros thought that they were not just dead but in eternal darkness. Whatever it was.
And they could do nothing to save themselves. It fell on him and his brothers.
But wasn't eternal darkness what they were already in?
Looking at his brothers lying eternally asleep, a new feeling crept deep inside him.
Envy.
Their part was done.
Maglor did not sing.
The sound left their company with Celegorm, Caranthir & Curifin. Their fiery, loud, lively brothers.
Let the silence that would rule after them fill the space. They should get used to it.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 14/14
Glorfindel is dead; only he isn't. As he wakes in Angband starring into the eyes of his husband, he finds himself enlisted into the most dubious group of kinslayers, traitors and dark elves to save dragons, steal Silmarils and topple Morgoth from his throne... well, at least, that used to be the plan.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
