On the Edge of Ruin, Part II by MithLuin

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First Day in a New Home

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“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.