On the Edge of Ruin, Part II by MithLuin

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Storytime

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’

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