Loyalty by Melesta

Chapter 2

Alqualondë, Beggining of the Long Night:

There is no time for questions when we finally reach them. Findekáno runs forward and we follow with whatever weapons we carry. The stench and the screams are suffocating me as I catch a glimpse of fair strands beneath a bloodied helmet. Tyelko! Curvo! Then a shout, someone runs toward them and I still my feet. I steady my hand and let go. The first arrow is easy. The second, easier. They look up at me in horror but there is still no time.

More shouting. Findekáno and Nelyafinwë stand back to back as they swing through a small group that surrounds them. Finno! Nelyo! A third arrow. A fourth. The fifth one pierces and two bodies fall like rabbits in midflight. Until there is none left. My brother and Nelyo embrace instinctively, swords still in hand. I focus on that embrace, I don't look down. Everything is still for a brief instant. The screams cease and I lower my bow.

Nelyo jumps out of the embrace with sudden realization. Utter dread swiftly replaces the concern on his features and he starts shouting:

'Finno! No! You fool! What are you…? Eru, curse me, curse me thrice!' He panics, takes the sword out of my brother's hand and starts looking around in haste. He locks his gaze on me and pulls Findekáno over.

'Írissë! Take him away from here, hide until this is all over. I will return for you later. None can know you were here with us, none! Do you understand, Írissë?!'

'Maitimo it is too late for that!' my brother cries, but Nelyo does not even look at him. He still stares at me shaking, hot tears now flow down his bloodied cheeks and his face looks deformed. I cannot find my voice but find the strength to push my brother's protesting body in front of me. We run and I glance behind my shoulder to see Nelyo on his knees, Tyelko and Curvo lifting him to his feet. We nod quickly to each other before dragging our brothers away.

***

Losgar:

When I finally come back to my senses and the shock dissipates, the smoke has clouded every single star in the sky above us. I know the ships are far but I can almost feel the fire on my skin. I look up and open my mouth. Black snowflakes land on my tongue and I concentrate on their bitterness. I let them melt down my throat and for a moment I regain my thoughts.

Not a single movement arises from the elves around me and I wonder if we have not already departed to Mandos. Father still stands up front, limply holding on to his sword. Arakáno and Turukáno are but a few steps behind him, shielding Itarillë between them. My footsteps finally break the silence as I catch Findekáno standing alone and move to his side.

'Írissë.' He embraces me too tightly and whispers only for my ear: 'What have we done, nésa?'

'We did what we had to.'

'We could not have known.'

'Even if we did. We would have. And you know it.'

He releases me and nods but never lets go of my hand. We stand together staring at the fires again as if our faith is written in those flames. The glow starts dying down as I watch the determination come to life in his eyes. And then I hear what I expected:

'I am not going back, Írissë. He truly is a lunatic if he believes he can march off to death without me.'

'All Fëanorians are lunatics, we knew as much. And you are no less of a lunatic if you think you can march off without me. I am coming with you.'

I state it like a challenge and search his face. I brace myself for another battle expecting the barrage of reasoning as to why I should go back and how I cannot handle the crossing. But instead, he squeezes my hand tighter and calmly commands:

'Take some of my leathers, whatever fits you. Wrap your bow twice over and pack as many steel arrows as you can get.'

We step foot on the ice soon after and I do not look back.