Sirion by Grundy

---

The Once And Future King

---

Elros tried to keep his face calm, as his older cousin did, but it was difficult to do when they were finally on the road to Amon Ereb, their cousins’ fortress, where they would be living until Mother or Father returned. (His father was such a hazy concept Elros had difficulty believing he would ever truly return, but Maedhros made it a point to name both Elwing and Eärendil whenever the topic was raised.)

Up until now, they had not been on a road, but had cut across country, travelling without stopping. The grown elves were able to rest as they rode, while Elros, Elrond, and Glinwen slept in the wagon each night. During the day, he and Elrond were allowed to ride in front of their cousins for a time, and Glinwen with an elleth who had been looking after her. But if the scouts signaled anything out of the ordinary ahead, they had to go back into the wagon where they could be best protected.

Maedhros had promised that once they reached the road, they would all camp for the night each evening, and there might be a stream they could wash in tonight. He’d said that as if it were a treat – and possibly for Elrond it was – but Elros couldn’t really see the point.

Why bother washing when they were just going to get dirty again the next day? It would be one thing when they reached Amon Ereb, where they would probably go back to being inside much of the time. Being clean would make sense there. But now, outdoors constantly, riding through the wild? No one would stay clean, not even the grownups!

Riding through the wild was fun.

Despite the ominous whispers the twins had always heard from grownups about the dangers beyond the walls of the Havens, they had encountered no orcs, wolves, or even bad weather. And even if he wasn’t free to go explore everything right now, there were new things to see everywhere. Birds, trees, animals, flowers, and all of it so much more than they had ever gotten to see in Sirion. There was a whole world out here that Elros had never even dreamed could be so big.

Unfortunately, not only was this big world full of new things, there was a world of new words to go with it.

Their cousins were Noldor like Eärendil, so they spoke Quenya, not Sindarin as most folk in Sirion had. Aunt Lalwen had been meaning to teach them Quenya, and when Maedhros first started saying words in his own tongue, Elros had nearly cried because while he didn’t recognize the words, the sound of them was familiar and made him think of how he wouldn’t see his aunt again.

Fortunately, Maedhros hadn’t noticed he was on the verge of blubbing like a baby, but had carried on explaining to him how just as Makalaurë was Maglor in Sindarin, Aunt Lalwen and Aunt Galadriel both had different names in Quenya. Aunt Lalwen had been Irimë and Aunt Galadriel was Artanis.

Elros liked Lalwen’s Quenya name – while he didn’t understand what it meant, the sound of it was ripply and pretty, just like she had been, and he was sorry he wouldn’t get to call her by it. But Artanis didn’t sound much like Aunt Galadriel at all – much too prim and formal, like that counselor of Cousin Gil-galad’s that naneth’s older cousin Thranduil liked to make fun of so much.

He and his brother had Quenya names, too, Maedhros told him. Elros realized that made sense, because Maedhros and Makalaurë had known about them, known them by name even before the twins could introduce themselves. For their Quenya speaking cousins to know and talk about them, they must have Quenya names. But unlike their older cousins, whose Quenya and Sindarin names were quite different from each other, the twins’ names weren’t very different from what they were used to.

“Elerossë,” he whispered to himself. “Elerossë and Elerondo.”

What?

Elrond sounded a bit cranky, but that was probably because he disliked riding. He was looking forward to Amon Ereb mostly because it meant he wouldn’t have to sit a horse again until they had riding lessons. Elrond had only admitted that to Elros and Makalaurë though. While Elros now told his tall cousin most things that crossed his mind, he had decided after considerable thought that it was really up to Elrond if he wanted to share his private opinions with Maedhros.

I’m practicing Quenya words, Elros explained. I want to be able to talk to people!

That wasn’t words, that was our names, Elrond responded, sounding puzzled.

Yes, I know they’re our names. That makes them important words.

Makalaurë had told them at lunchtime that almost everyone at Amon Ereb would speak Quenya, just as most of the riders here did. Only a few, like Glinwen’s elleth knew more than a few words of Sindarin. It seemed Amon Ereb was the opposite of Sirion when it came to language, although Elros hoped that the Noldor didn’t object to Sindarin as strongly as the Sindar did to Quenya. Neither of the twins knew enough Quenya yet to have real conversations.

In any case, Elros had decided he should make sure to learn the most important words first so even if he couldn’t speak properly, he could at least make the grown elves around him understand any urgent needs. Food, water, bathroom, please, thank you, sorry, help, Makalaurë, and Elrond had seemed like good ones to start with. (Maedhros was already a Sindarin word, but apparently he answered only to that name. Elros wasn’t sure why, especially when everyone else seemed to have at least two names, but it meant one less word to learn so he wasn’t complaining.)

“Aloud, please, Elros,” Maedhros said mildly.

Elros hadn’t yet worked out how Maedhros was unfailingly able to tell when he was speaking silently to his twin – annoyingly, he usually didn’t catch Elrond at it. And if Makalaurë did, he never said anything.

Your face always goes a bit funny when you talk to me, that’s why, Elrond explained helpfully. When we get to Amon Ereb, we’ll find a mirror and I’ll show you. You can practice in front of the mirror until your face doesn’t give you away. Then he won’t know.

Elros glared at his brother. He had enough to learn as it was without adding yet another thing to the list of what he needed to practice.

“Elros?” Maedhros prompted.

“I was practicing words,” Elros said obediently – in this case, obedience had the fringe benefit of giving him an excuse to ignore Elrond, who was now silently laughing at him. When had Elrond figured out about the face thing anyway?

“Was Elrond practicing also?”

Elros sighed.

“No,” he admitted reluctantly. “He knows them already. He’s good at things like this.”

“Things like this?” Maedhros repeated, clearly not quite understanding.

“Words,” Elros explained. “Letters. Thinking.”

He paused. He’d never wanted to talk this over with Aunt Lalwen, who would have told him briskly that he was being silly, or Nana, who would have just laughed and kissed his worries away, but it had been bothering him for a while.

“Elrond’s a lot better at thinking than I am,” Elros admitted dejectedly. He didn’t want Maedhros to think he was stupid, but sooner or later, his older cousin was bound to notice for himself. After all- “Everyone says so.”

Maedhros looked a bit puzzled.

“Why should you not be just as good at thinking as your brother?” he asked. “You are twins, as alike as two peas in a pod.”

“We look alike,” Elros agreed patiently. “But we don’t think alike.”

“Most brothers don’t,” Maedhros replied, sounding amused. “Not even twins. In fact, it is good for you to have your own thoughts and Elrond his. Then you can discuss them with each other. You should be each other’s first and best counselors.”

Elros turned over that idea in his mind. He could see where that was sensible. The boat they made had definitely been better for his input, even if the original idea to try making it had been Elrond’s – though he’s still mystified as to how the grownups had decided it had been entirely his doing, with Elrond just along for the ride.

“I suppose,” he said. “But he’s still good at thinking, and I’m not, really.”

Maedhros snorted.

“You seem to think just fine when you put your mind to it,” he said drily. “Or do I need to remind you about your exploits with the pulley this morning?”

Elros sighed. He should have known better than to hope that had gone unnoticed. But he had watched the grown neri using the device to raise and lower the coverings on the wagon to adjust for wind and sun over the past ten days, and had wanted to see for himself how it worked. How was he to know that if you pulled too hard on the wrong section, it would tangle everything up? He’d done his best to put it back right, but it wasn’t quite the same when he’d finished as when he’d started.

“It seems to me,” Maedhros mused, “that you’ve gotten into the bad habit of letting Elrond do the thinking most of the time, and then blaming him for being better at it when really he just has more practice at it than you do.”

Elros was quite indignant at this idea, but before he could protest, Maedhros continued.

“Perhaps you better start practicing thinking, to catch up. Else what will you do the day you get yourself into a jam and Elrond isn’t right there to think your way out for you?”

The thought that he would ever be so far away from his twin that Elrond wouldn’t be able to help him is the most ridiculous thing Elros has ever heard. But Maedhros continued before he could protest.

“Not to mention, young prince, you may someday be called on to lead your people, and come that day, they will most certainly expect you to be able to think things through on your own.”

Elros blinked – and not solely because he hadn’t expected Maedhros to be so confident that he could be just as good at thinking as Elrond.

For all he knew that naneth was queen, it was rare for anyone to remind him that he was a prince. And he suddenly realized that if naneth went away for good, the way his grandparents all had, he wouldn’t be just a prince anymore. He’d be king.

It was a terrifying thought. All the kings he and his brother had ever been told about had died.

El? he asked urgently. Naneth will come back, right? Someday?

I expect so, Elrond replied, for once the one sounding puzzled. It might be years and years, though, from the way our cousins talk about it. Why?

“Out loud, please, Elros, when you’re in front of others,” Maedhros said, his tone one of slowly expiring patience.

“I don’t want to be king!” Elros wailed.

It wasn’t until many years later that he would realize how rare it was to see Maedhros laugh so – or understand why it was that he had.