On the Edge of Ruin, Part II by MithLuin

“I won’t!” the boy said crossly, and stamped his small foot for emphasis.  His odd wooden-soled shoes clicked satisfyingly on the stone floor, so he did it again. 

The tall elf looked down at him patiently, and explained calmly, yet again, “But you must take a seat if you are to eat.”  

“It’s not my seat, so I won’t!” the boy insisted stubbornly. 

“It is your new seat, now.  See, Elrond has taken his seat,” he added, gesturing at the other boy, who was watching the tantrum with wide eyes.  Hearing his name, he put down his fork and pushed out his chair.

“Don’t want a new seat,” he said stoically, joining his twin in his rebellion,

A shadow crossed the doorway, and all three abruptly fell silent.  The newcomer surveyed the scene in the pantry, where a small table and chairs had been set up for the children’s use.  “It appears they do not want to eat, my brother,” he said quietly.  Elrond cowered in his chair, and Elros looked at his feet.  “I will find some other elf to eat this food if they do not want it.”

“No – we want it,” Elrond said in a small voice.

Elros’ lip started quivering, but he was caught in indecision.  He still stood, and would not move towards the chair he had refused.  Ignoring him, Maedhros entered the room and sat down on a barrel he pulled up to the table.  “Well then, young peredhel, we will eat.”  He gestured for Maglor to sit.  Stealing a glance at Elros, Elrond scooted his chair back to the table.  Maglor served all three of them, skipping Elros’ place.  Maglor and Maedhros kept up a steady conversation, while a subdued Elrond watched them and listened. 

Feeling ignored (and hungry), Elros got tired of his rebellion and inched closer to the table.  Careful not to draw any attention to himself, he climbed into the chair.  When no one commented on this, he piped up.  “I’m in my seat now.  Can I have some food, please?”

“Look who has decided to join us,” said Maglor with a smile, serving him.  Now that Elros was at the table too, Elrond relaxed.  Shortly thereafter, Maedhros excused himself, and bid them all a good night. 

When they had finished their meal, Maglor cleared the things away, and washed their hands and faces.  Taking a hand of each, he led them to a privy, and then upstairs.  The elves they passed looked at them curiously, but no one spoke to them.  Maglor stopped in front of one of the doors, and then disentangled a hand to open it.  The room they entered was lit by lamps, and a fire.  It looked cozy enough, but neither of the boys was feeling cheery at the moment.  “These rooms belong to my brothers and me,” Maglor explained.  They entered, and a maid came forward.  “I’ve just finished bringing up their things, sir,” she said with a curtsey. 

“Very well, Olótie.”  He looked down at the two young boys.  “Can you say goodnight to Olótie?” he asked.  Elrond shook his head and ducked behind Maglor’s hand, while Elros dutifully said “G’night, Loty.”

“Goodnight, dears,” she said, and then slipped out the door.

Crossing the room, Maglor pulled aside a heavy curtain.  “This is my room.  If you need anything tonight, you can find me here.”  The twins looked in curiously, but did not make any move to enter.  Turning to another door, Maglor opened it and led the twins into a new room.  “This room is for you,” he said. 

Elros’ lip started quivering.  “It’s…big,” Elrond said.

Maglor bent down to look at them at eye level.  “I am sorry I do not have child-sized things prepared for you.  You will grow big enough for all of this one day.”  He gestured at the room’s furnishings.  “But for tonight, one big bed will be good for two small boys.”  He lifted each of them up to sit on the bed, and then unstrapped their shoes to remove them.  “Tomorrow we will see about getting some new tunics for you,” he remarked, pulling two out of the bag Olótie had brought up.  The twins had entered their new home with few belongings indeed. 

After he pulled the blankets over them, Elros called out, “Don’t go yet, please.” 

Maglor put down the lamp he had picked up, and sat on the edge of the bed.  “Would you like me to sing to you?”  Elros nodded, his fear of the darkness clear in his eyes.  Maglor began to sing in a low voice.  He doubted the children would understand the words, but he sang of starlight and treelight, of a darkness without fear…and of loss.  The song was not meant to be a lullaby, but before he had finished, both boys were asleep.  He left the lamp where it was, burning softly, and quietly left their room.

Maedhros was waiting for him in the other room.  “I have put them in Ambarussa’s room,” Maglor explained.  Maedhros merely nodded.  “Are you sure about this, brother?” he asked after awhile.  “Children do not simply go away when they grow up.  If you raise them….they will be yours.” 

Maglor nodded.  “I am sure,” he said simply.  “Though they may grow up faster than you think.  Their mother was a mere girl when… when Doriath fell.” 

Maedhros considered that for a moment, and smiled ruefully.  “You do realize that every ancestor they have would curse you?”

“Then fortunate for me that they are dead, and will never know,” Maglor answered shortly.  “I am already cursed, though!” he said bitterly, not shouting so as not to wake the sleeping boys.  He threw himself into a chair.  “How many battles have we lost?  How many brothers?  Even our victories are defeats!  How much longer can we endure in this hopeless war against an inexorable and inexhaustible foe who mocks and scorns us?”

“As long as we must,” Maedhros answered coldly, though his face was also troubled.  “At the very least,” he said in a softer voice, “I would see the Iron Crown again.” 

“Then march North alone.  Revisit Himring.  I am sure the garrison there will take you to Angband, and quickly!” Maglor retorted.

“When all is lost, perchance I will,” Maedhros said in answer.

Maglor looked more closely at his brother.  “I did not mean it,” he said quickly.  “You are the only family I have left – I would not lose you as well!” 

“No, you have two sons now.  Surely they will be some comfort to you.”

“Nelyo,” Maglor said quietly, his voice as soothing as it had been when he sang to the twins.  “Does it displease you that I have taken them in to foster them?”

“Displease me?  What would it matter if it did?  I am not your father, to tell you what you may and may not do.  No, take them.  If you are foolish enough to raise elflings on the edge of war, then I will do nothing to stop you.”

“If they are my sons,” Maglor said, a hint of mischief creeping into his voice, “then you are their Uncle.”  Maedhros looked at him in surprise.  “So it is only right for me to ask you if it pleases you for them to enter our family,” he finished, his tone as deferential as before.

“Now I know why Father never denied you anything,” Maedhros said, smiling.  His dark mood fell away as quickly as it had come on.  “To tell you truly, I see no harm in their being here.  They have no closer kin who can claim them.  And if they remind you of our youngest brothers,” here his easy tone faltered, “then at least they will recall pleasant memories of days long past.”   

“I rather thought they would keep us too busy to grieve,” Maglor countered.  “Have you forgotten what it was like to have two young boys underfoot?”

“No, I have not,” Maedhros said, though he was now smiling in truth.  “Which is why I am more than content to be their uncle, and return them to their father when they throw tantrums!  I only ask that you dress them differently, so I can learn to tell them apart.”

“Thank you,” Maglor said, and stood to embrace his brother. 

Maglor frowned.  “I do not wish to leave them alone.”

“You cannot take them with us,” Maedhros said in exasperation.  “They’re only boys.”

“I know,” Maglor admitted, still frowning.

“Olótie will look after them,” Maedhros reassured him. 

“I know,” Maglor repeated.  For a moment, Maedhros thought he would resume the argument, but instead Maglor mounted his horse, prepared to leave his young sons behind in the fortress.  It was only for a few days, after all. 

But that evening, he made it clear that he had not lost his reluctance.  He worried that they would not be able to sleep. 

“Listen to yourself,” Maedhros said, having little patience for such things.  “They are perfectly safe there, much safer than we are here.  Why do you worry so?  You will see them soon.”

“I know,” Maglor said unhappily.  After a moment, he continued.  “What do you know of the elf from the Havens?”

“Do you mean Sandórë, in the stables?” Maedhros asked, wondering where this was going.

“He was with them before, and seemed very keen to come here, didn’t he?”

“Yes, but he’s hardly going to kidnap them and run off while you are away.  Next time, I am leaving you behind.”

“No, you are not,” Maglor said, just as exasperated.  “Where you go, I go, as long as you continue to walk into danger.  And I wasn’t worried about him, I simply thought, that if he watched them before, and was loyal enough to make the journey here, then perhaps I could have him watch over them.  It might comfort them to have a reminder of home.”

Maedhros said nothing in response.  His brother had changed a lot in the past year. 

When they returned a few days later, Maedhros was not surprised when his brother called over the elf Sandórë.  They led their horses up to the main gate, and then handed them off to the stable hands, but Maglor halted Sandórë before he could go with the horses.  “Come with me,” he requested.

Elros and Elrond were overjoyed when Maglor opened the door.  “Yontaro!  Yontaro!” they cried, running over to him and flinging themselves at him.  He picked up first Elrond, and then Elros, holding them close and kissing them each on the brow. 

“I’ve missed you while I was away,” he told them sincerely.

“You were gone for a very long time,” Elrond scolded him.

“Yes, forever!” Elros agreed.

“It wasn’t as long as all that,” Maglor insisted, trying hard not to laugh.  “And now I will be here for a long time,” he said to appease them. 

Sandórë watched this reunion with a troubled look.  It was not difficult to see that the young boys were quite taken with the Fëanorean lord, and he seemed to be treating them well.  He still did not know why he had been called in here from the stables, though.  He felt as though he were being taunted. 

“Did you behave yourselves for Olótie?” Maglor continued.

“Yes, they were fine, weren’t you, boys?” she answered, getting earnest nods from both boys.

Maglor put them down.  “Go get cleaned up, and I will join you for luncheon.  Then you can tell me all about your adventures while I was away.”

Olótie shooed them out the door, and they scampered off happily, casting curious looks at the elf standing quietly by the door.  Maglor turned to Sandórë.  “You were with them at the Havens,” he began, not asking a question.  “And you were not content to remain at Balar with the other refugees.”  The Fëanoreans never referred to the elves from the Havens as survivors – they were simply seeking refuge from war. 

“Yes sir, I was not.  I have no wish to return to the Isle of Balar.”

“And why is that?”

“I gave my word to the father of those boys that I would look after them while he was away.”

Maglor looked at him steadily.  “I am their father now.”

“Yes, sir,” Sandórë said quietly.

“And I will not always be here to look after them.”

Sandórë looked up curiously, not expecting…was this the reason he had been brought up here?

“I would like for you to look after them from time to time, if you can.”

“Yes, sir!  It would be a great honor,” he said, dropping onto one knee.  “Thank you.”

Maglor raised him back up.  “I am placing a great deal of trust in you.  I think it will be good for them to know someone from the Havens.  They have forgotten too much in their short time here, and neither Olótie nor I can remind them of what we do not know.”

“I am loyal to them, and to their father.  I will share what stories I can with them.”

Maglor nodded, accepting this arrangement.  “Have you eaten yet?”

Sandórë shook his head, so Maglor led him downstairs to where Olótie had settled the boys down at the table.  “Do you remember Sandórë?” Maglor asked them, introducing the stable hand to his sons.  They looked up and shook their heads.  “Well, he knew you when you were younger, so I’d like for him to eat with us today.”  They looked at him more curiously, but did not blurt out their questions just yet. 

Sandórë tried to contain his disappointment at not even being recognized. It had been too long since the attack on the Havens, and they were young yet.  He shouldn’t have expected them to remember.  “You may have known me as Órello,” he said by way of introduction.  At the sound of his voice, recognition lit their faces.  “Órello!” Elros said.  “I think I have met you before.”  Elrond nodded in agreement, faintly puzzled, as if he could not quite place the strange elf.  It was a beginning. 

“Tell us a story of ancient days,” Elrond asked, climbing up on Órello’s lap. 

“Yes, a story of the first elves,” Elros demanded.

“The first elves?” Órello asked.  “That story is ancient indeed.  Very well,” he said, smiling at his charges.  “I will tell you the story as I heard it when I was young.”  The young boys listened in rapt attention as he began.  “Long ago, the world was quiet and empty.  No one spoke or sang, because there was no one.  But Eru did not want the world to remain quiet and empty, so he took thought of his children.  When the time was right, the very first elf woke up.  And what do you think he saw?” 

“His blanket!” said Elros, laughing.

“His hands?” Elrond asked.

“No… he was laying down, outside, and he opened his eyes and saw…”

“The sky!” both brothers said at once.

Órello nodded, “He saw the stars, and was amazed by how beautiful they were.  Then he looked down and what do you think he saw?” 

“His feet!” Elrond said, but Órello shook his head. 

“The grass?” Elros suggested. 

“He saw a beautiful elf-woman sleeping.  What do you think he did next?”  The twins shook their heads.  “He woke her up.”

“How?” Elros demanded. 

“With a kiss,” Órello explained, “because she was his wife.”  The twins made faces at that, but Órello laughed and continued.  “When she woke up and looked at him, he discovered something else.  He wanted to speak to her, but he could not.”

“Why not?” Elrond asked, puzzled. 

“Because neither of them knew any words.  So they tried their best to understand one another, and made up their own words….”

“Like Elrond and I do,” Elros said proudly.

“Yes, something like that,” Órello agreed with a smile.  “And when they began to walk around, they met new elves, who had only just awakened themselves.  So they all began to learn to speak, and hunt together, and make clothes, and all the many things that elves know how to do.  They lived all together on the shores of a great lake, called Cuivienen, where many streams ran into it merrily.  And that is why the most beautiful sound to an elf is the sound of running water, and our speech seeks to mirror that above all other sounds.” 

“And is the most beautiful sight the stars?”  Elrond asked innocently.

“That…and beautiful women!” Órello finished, tweaking him on the nose. 

“But where…” Elros began, but before he could ask, Órello tickled him. 

“No more questions!” he called out, as Elros shrieked with laughter.  The story finished, the twins leapt up and took off, daring Órello to chase them.

Elrond sat on the floor, a miniature waterwheel and course laid out before him.  He took the cup full of water, and slowly poured it in, watching the wheel spin.  Elros watched him, calling out ‘liptë – limba’ as the water dripped from the wheel.  When all the water had collected in the pool at the bottom, Elrond refilled the cup and began again. 

“Órello, are there any other Peredhil, or are we the only half-elves?” Elros asked.  His attention had wandered from the toy. 

Órello laughed and tousled his hair.  “Feeling lonely, my young lord?” he asked. 

“No, of course not,” Elros said, offended.

“We aren’t like the other elves here,” Elrond came to his brother’s defense.  He put down his cup of water.  “Our Uncles are Noldor,” he said carefully, “but you are from Gondolin.”

“And your father came from Gondolin, too, and he was half-elven like you,” Órello replied. 

“And he met our lady-mother, and she was half-elven, too!” Elros added enthusiastically. 

“Oh, is that it?  Worried about meeting a lady elf already are you?” 

Elros made a face.  “No, of course not!  I just haven’t met a half-elf before – well, except for Elrond!”  Both brothers looked to their instructor expectantly.

But he just shook his head.  “The only Peredhil I have met were your parents and you yourselves.  I do not know if there are any more.”

Notes:  Yontaro = foster father

liptë – limba: ‘drip – drop’

“I’m bored,” Elros said, picking at the rug where he was sprawled aimlessly.  It had been raining steadily for five days.  The first day, they had gone out and splashed in the puddles and had a grand afternoon – only to come in and be scolded for getting so muddy.  The second day, they had obediently stayed inside, amusing each other with games.  On the third day, they had begged for stories.  On the fourth day, they had played at tag and sword-fighting in the halls, until they were scolded again.  And today, they had been kicked out of the stables, the kitchens and the forge in turn.  So they had dejectedly returned to their rooms out of ideas and feeling unwanted. 

Bored did not cover Elrond’s discontent, though.  “We are just in the way,” he complained.  “When the rain stops, we should go live in the woods, where no one will care if we are noisy or muddy.” 

Elros perked up.  “Yes, we can hunt, and make a home in the trees.”

“We’ve been here for an hour at least, and no one has come to look for us,” Elrond went on, ignoring his brother. 

“They won’t miss us,” Elros agreed.  “Do you think the rain will stop tonight?” he asked hopefully. 

“It should,” Elrond replied.  “It never rains this long all at once.” 

“Good, then we can pack our things and be ready to leave in the morning,” Elros said, as if it were decided. 

“What do you think we’ll need?” Elrond asked, sitting up on the bed.  He was curious in spite of himself. 

Elros looked around their room.  “Our bows, for hunting.  And knives, to cut sticks for our house.  Rope to make a rope ladder.  And clothes,” he added as an afterthought.  Elrond nodded.  “That should be good.  Maybe we can take some food from the kitchens, in case we don’t catch anything at first.”  He thought a moment.  “And we’ll need a fire.”

Elros considered that, but only for a moment.  His face lit up.  “We can take Yontaro’s flint-box.  He keeps it in his room.”

Elrond hopped off the bed.  “Do you think we’ll want blankets?” 

Elros looked doubtful.  “It’s rather warm out, but it won’t hurt.  We can use them to wrap everything else in!”  He also hopped up, took a blanket off the bed, and tossed it unceremoniously onto the floor.  He put his and Elrond’s bows on it, as well as a spare tunic for each of them. 

Meanwhile, Elrond took down the elvish lamp and declared, “This can be our lantern.”  They then went to Maglor’s room to fetch his flint-box.  While they were there, they noticed a pair of knives that would come in handy for skinning squirrels, so they took those too. 

“Now we just need rope,” Elros said confidently.  They were standing in the main room, the common room that their and Maglor’s rooms connected to.  “Maybe Uncle Maedhros has some,” Elrond suggested.

Elros paused for the first time since they came up with this idea.  “We aren’t supposed to go in his room.”

“When we live in the woods, no one will be able to tell us where we can and cannot go,” Elrond assured him confidently.  Still, he peered cautiously into the room before entering it.  The brothers completed a very thorough search, but found no rope.  They did find some other things that they thought might be useful, though, so they added them to their pile:  three old candles, a large empty jug, and a grey woolen cloak with a detachable hood.  When Elros returned to Maedhros’ room, he found Elrond staring at a trunk with a thoughtful look on his face.  “Maybe there’s rope in there.”

Elros looked doubtful, but said, “Let’s open it and see.” 

“I can’t – it’s locked,” Elrond answered.

Elros looked at the lock carefully.  “I don’t know how to open this without a key – where would he put the key?”  They looked around the room again, but did not find it.  In frustration, Elros went and fetched one of the knives they’d taken from Maglor’s room.  “Maybe this will open the lock.”  First he tried to saw it open, but that didn’t work.  Then, he stuck the tip of the knife into the lock and jiggled it.  When that didn’t work, he jabbed it in harder, and in his frustration, broke off the point of the blade.  Elrond cried out in surprise, but at that moment, someone opened the door behind them, and they knew they were in a lot of trouble. 

Before they could even react, Maedhros grabbed Elros by the collar with his left hand, and caught Elrond across the chest with his right arm.  He hauled both boys out into the common room. 

“Let go of me!” Elros cried, flailing his arms.  To his utter shock, Maedhros did.  It was only after he hit the floor that he realized he was still carrying the knife.  He dropped it instantly, as if it had bit him.  Maedhros struck Elros with the back of his hand, then dropped Elrond.

“What were you doing in there?” Maedhros asked them angrily.  He seemed furious, or at least angrier than they had ever seen him. 

“We were…looking for rope,” Elrond explained timidly.

“Rope?” Maedhros asked in confusion.

“For our...our…tree-house,” Elros got out between sobs.

“You don’t have a tree house,” Maedhros stated suspiciously.

“We haven’t b-built it y-yet,” Elros agreed.

“We’re going to live in the woods, because no one wants us here,” Elrond explained sullenly.  He was mad at Maedhros for hitting Elros and making him cry.

Maedhros suddenly went very still.  He looked at both brothers, as if not seeing them, then turned abruptly and left the room.  At the door, he turned back and said tersely, “Don’t move.”

Elros and Elrond looked at each other in confusion.  They heard Maedhros shout, “Olotië, find my brother Maglor now!”  Then he returned.  Elros stopped his crying, afraid of what would happen next.  Maedhros said nothing, merely staring at them in a silence that seemed more unbearable each minute.  After hours and hours (or so it seemed to Elrond), Maglor arrived.

“What’s this?” he asked, taking in the scene.

 “Your sons,” Maedhros began, “would prefer to live in the woods.  I found them attempting to break into my chest with one of your knives.” 

Maglor looked troubled, but he did not seem angry – yet.  “Boys, I think you had better tell me what happened.”

Elros and Elrond exchanged guilty looks.  “We were looking for something in Uncle Maedhros’ room, and he caught us there.”

“We’re running away,” Elrond stated.  “To live in the woods.”

“Oh?  And how did you arrive at that idea?” Maglor asked, still not angry. 

“After the noon meal, we went to the stable,” Elros began.  “But they scolded us for being out in the rain, so we came back to the kitchens.”

Elrond took up the narrative.  “But the cook said we were too grubby, and sent us on our way.  So we went to the forge, but they said that was no place for young boys.”  He scowled, and Maglor found himself fighting a smile; one look at his own brother cured him of it, though.

“There was nothing to do, so we came back here,” Elros continued, “and I decided we should build a house in the trees and go live in the woods, as soon as the rain stopped.”

“You decided?  And what about Elrond?” Maglor asked.

“It was my idea,” Elrond insisted.  “Nobody wants us here, and in the woods we can be as grubby as we like.”

“Because you are not allowed to play in the forge, you think you are not wanted?” Maglor asked gravely.

Elrond started to feel foolish, but wasn’t ready to give up.  “If you wanted us, they why don’t you let us come with you?”

“Do you want to sit and listen to adults talk all afternoon?” Maglor countered.  Elros shook his head no, but then looked at Elrond guiltily. 

“No,” Elrond admitted, “but you are not always doing that.” 

Now it was Maglor’s turn to shake his head.  “It is not safe for you to ride out with me, and your ponies could not keep up.”

“Our ponies!” Elros exclaimed.  “I knew we were forgetting something.”  This time, Maglor did smile. 

“You would have put your ponies in a tree house?”

“No, of course not,” Elros said.  “We would have tied them to the tree at the bottom.”

“They would not have thanked you when the wolves came,” Maedhros informed them. 

“We would shoot the wolves…” Elros started to say, but Maglor shook his head. 

“You must promise me never to go out in the woods alone.  They are a very dangerous place, and I would be very upset if I lost you.”  He looked as his brother.  “Even your Uncle Maedhros and I do not go out alone.”

Both boys nodded and said, “We promise,” though Elrond looked at his feet. 

“Does that mean we cannot build a treehouse?” Elros asked despondently. 

“It means you cannot…without my help,” Maglor informed him. 

Elros looked up eagerly.  “Can we start tomorrow?”

“That remains to be seen,” Maglor cautioned him.  “How much damage did you cause today?”

The twins looked at one another guiltily, and without a word, went to their room.  They opened the door, and there on the floor was their stash. 

“I think you had better start by putting all these things away.”

The boys scurried into the room and began to comply.  It seemed to take much longer to return everything to its correct place than it had to fetch it in the first place.  The fact that Maglor and Maedhros were watching them silently didn’t help. 

Elros picked up the candles and jug.  Uncertainly, he handed them to Maedhros.  “These are yours, Uncle.  Sorry we took them.”

“And these are yours, yontaro,” Elrond said, bringing Maglor the flint box and one of the knives. 

“And where is the other knife?” Maedhros prompted him. 

Elrond stopped to think about that, but Elros went out into the main room and picked it up from the floor.  “I’m sorry I broke it, yontaro,” he said contritely.

“How did it break?” Maglor asked.

“When I was trying to open Uncle’s chest,” he mumbled. 

“What was so important that you would do that?” Maglor asked him. 

“We were looking for rope,” Elros said earnestly. 

“Rope?” Maglor asked in surprise.

Elros nodded.  “For the ladder to the treehouse.”

Maglor shook his head and said, “Hand me the knife.”  Once he had it, he examined the tip.  “Did you or Elrond get hurt when this broke?”  Elros shook his head no.  “You were very lucky – this is a sharp blade, and it could have cut someone.”

“It did cut someone,” Elros said miserably.  He knew that if he did not tell, Maedhros would.  “I cut Uncle Maedhros by accident when he found us.”  He looked up earnestly.  “I didn’t mean to!”

“It was a harmless accident, and one that he has already paid for,” Maedhros interjected.  “I…slapped him.” 

Elrond looked at his family in surprise.  Maedhros sounded just as contrite as Elros, but what was more, he sounded just as nervous, too.  Maglor looked back and forth, as if he did not know which one to be angry with.  His gaze settled on Elros.

“That had better not happen again.  Be more careful!”  Elros nodded.  Then Maglor looked at his own brother.  “Maybe you should show them what is in that trunk.”

Maedhros cocked his head to one side.  “They are your heirs,” he finally agreed.  Maedhros went into his room and shut the door. 

Maglor turned to his sons.  “You will not be getting a story tonight.  It’s straight to bed with you after supper.”  They looked dejected.  “And then tomorrow, if you are well-behaved all morning, we might find the time to start work on a house in the trees.  Maybe.”  They looked a bit happier at that. 

Maedhros opened the door, saying, “You may come in.”  Elrond and Elros entered cautiously, not sure if he really wanted them in his room.  The trunk was unlocked, but the lid was still closed.  Maedhros motioned for them to take seats on the floor; Maglor stood in the doorway and watched. 

“As you know, my brother and I were not born here,” Maedhros began gravely.  Elros did not interrupt, though he was thinking, Neither were my brother and me!  “When we left our home, our Father took some of his belongings with him to come to these new lands.  What remains of that is in this trunk.”  With that, he opened the lid. 

The boys got on their knees and peered in, but it wasn’t even full.  “That’s all?” asked Elrond in disappointment. 

“That is all that is left,” Maedhros clarified.  “He brought more than one trunk with him on the ships.”

“What happened to the rest?”  Elrond persisted.

“We gave it away, making alliances.  But we will not part with the last of it.  This is too small an amount to buy any alliance, and indeed there are now few who would ally with us.”  Elrond and Elros seemed puzzled by that, but their Uncle did not clarify.  Instead, he reached into the chest and pulled out a small cloth sack with a simple drawstring.  “Hold out your hands.”  They obeyed, and he poured out the hard cold gems into their hands.  “These are emeralds,” he explained.  They looked at the brilliant dark gems, and then handed them awkwardly back to their father, who replaced them all in the sack.  The next object to come out of the trunk was a rolled up cloth, which unrolled to reveal an intricate tapestry.  “This was made by our Father’s mother, and was all he had of her.”  They looked at it respectfully, but it only depicted a birch and a larch, though there were elves in the margins.  Elros leaned in for a closer look, but he couldn’t figure out what they were doing.  Elrond thought that their home must be very far away.  Maedhros handed the tapestry to Maglor, who carefully re-rolled it.

Maedhros bent down and picked up a box that seemed to be made of brightly colored stones.  The twins looked at it curiously; the inlaid stones were blue and green, and they swirled as if they had once been soft as newly-churned butter.  But the box was not the treasure.  Maedhros opened the lid, and stooped to show them the contents.  The box was lined in dark velvet, and sitting in it was a silver… well, Elrond and Elros weren’t entirely sure what it was.  It looked like breaking waves, and each frothy cap was made of iridescent mother-of-pearl.  “It’s a book-stand,” Maglor explained, prompting Maedhros to continue. 

“Our Father made this, as a gift.”

“But if he gave it away, how did he get it back?” Elros asked, relaxed enough to ask questions now. 

“He didn’t,” Maedhros said, an odd look on his face.  “I did.  The person he made it for gave it to her son, and he brought it to Middle Earth.  We traded.”

“What did you give her son?” Elrond asked, noting that Elros was not reprimanded for his interruption.

“Swords and armor,” Maedhros answered.  He handed the box to Maglor and turned back to the chest.  In this way, the twins saw: a blue bag with a swan embroidered on it, full of pearls; several scrolls; very detailed maps of places far away, several necklaces and circlets, a signet ring - a black onyx set with a mithril star; a delicately wrought lamp; and two harps – one of silver and one of gold. 

But there was no rope.  

Chapter End Notes

Imhiril suggests that Elrond’s silver harp was made by Maglor in “The Parting Gift.”  I loved the idea, and nicked it. The bookstand that looks like waves in in an art museum in Philadelphia.