Our Most Beloved Star by Uvatha the Horseman

The Raid

The dogs outside started barking hysterically, almost masking the whinnying of horses and the shouts of men.

"Eärendil? Is that you?" Mother rose from her chair.

"Father!" Elros ran to the door. Father was away at sea more than he was home. He'd become almost a stranger to them.

Through the window, he saw a group of strange men approaching the house. Their faces were hard with deadly purpose, and every one of them was armed. His mother froze in mid-stride. Nanny screamed.

"Bolt the door!" Mother pulled a dagger from her belt.

Elros jumped up and slid the bolt moments before something struck the planks. A crack split the panel. Mother backed out of the room, her eyes wide, and shut the door behind her.

Another kick and the bolt gave way. The door slammed against the wall. Two armed men strode in, a red-headed warrior of great height and bulk and his slender, dark-haired companion.

Both had drawn their swords, longer and heavier than anything Father owned. One of the attackers was left-handed and the other was right. They moved in a coordinated way, covering each other's flanks. It looked like they'd done this before. A group of men-at-arms came in after them, pushing into the entry hall until no more could fit.

"Search the house." The redheaded warrior ordered his soldiers into every part of the house. The twins were herded into a corner and ordered them not to move.

The sound of dishes breaking and furniture being smashed came from every room in the house. The door of his parents' bedchamber was kicked in, followed by an agonized wail. Their guard abandoned them and ran off in that direction. Elros followed, with Elrond right behind.

A group of soldiers crowded in the doorway of his parents' bedchamber. Elrond peered around their legs. The bed had been shoved aside, revealing a loose floorboard with an empty space beneath it.

The red-headed warrior held the polished box. Its lid stood open, revealing its velvet lining. There was nothing inside. The Silmaril was gone.

"It's not here," said the redhead. He tried to punch the floor, but missed because part of his arm was missing.

A shutter banged. Redhead turned to the window. "That's how she got out. I wish I'd put a guard on the back of the house before we went in."

"That seems to be our family motto. 'Go in with a heart full of resolve, but not an actual plan,'" said Dark Hair.

Redhead got to his feet. "I'm going to make her sorry." He unsheathed his sword and held it level with Elrond's chin. Elrond shrank behind the bedroom door until he bumped into Elros, who was already there.

The redhead yanked back the door. His eyes were crazed.

Elrond tried so hard to be brave, but then he thought of how their mother who would find their dead bodies, and began to cry, the full-throated bawling of a small child who knew what was about to happen.

Dark Hair put a hand on the redhead's arm. "Maedhros, you don't have to kill them."

"Shut up, Maglor. Did you have something intelligent thing to say, or are you just wandering around lost?"

"We could take them with us, and trade them for the Silmaril."

Maedhros' sword wavered slightly, then dropped. He made a sound of disgust and then sheathed his weapon.

"Fine. Let's grab the brats and get out of here."