Lords of Amon Ereb by JazTheBard

Amon Ereb loomed more and more forebodingly as Gil-Galad approached it.

He led both his own army and most of the elven civilians, while High King Finarfin, who rode beside him, led the host of Aman.

Only two weeks ago had the Silmarils been recovered, and only a few days ago had they been stolen by the last Sons of Fëanor, who had immediately disappeared after the theft.

And so, since they were heading east to get the noncombatants out of destroyed Beleriand, they decided to stop at the Fëanorians' fortress to at last demand answers regarding the twin sons of Eärendil and Elwing.

(Privately, Gil-Galad held out little hope. Even if the children had lived through the kinslaying itself, been taken hostage, and survived four years in captivity -- and all that was unlikely enough on its own -- the Sons of Fëanor had probably killed them after the rising of the Evening Star, when they could no longer be traded for the Silmaril.

And if they did live, what state would he find them in? They would have been taken forty-nine years ago.)

Objective in mind, the elves climbed the hill. They did not bother to announce or introduce themselves; their banners had been visible for a day and a half.

A guard called down from the battlements, "Hail, High Kings of the Noldor! What is your business here?"

Finarfin, as the elder of the High Kings, took it upon himself to be the spokesperson. "We would like to meet peacefully with our kinsmen, the lords of Amon Ereb, and if they be willing to host us, to reside here for a short time."

"If you speak truth and intend no discord, then my lords shall welcome you in the courtyard, your majesty," said the guard before leaving the wall.

A few minutes later, the gates opened.

The group that went in was fairly small: the two High Kings, Círdan, Oropher, Eönwë, and Celebrimbor, along with a handful of soldiers (Galadriel and Celeborn remained behind, unsure if they could restrain themselves from physically assaulting the Sons of Fëanor).

They came into the entry courtyard, but there was no sign of Maedhros or Maglor. Instead, in the place where a host would usually greet guests, stood two young dark-haired elves. They did look somewhat like Maglor, with their hair and eyes, and some of their facial features were reminiscent of Maedhros, but resembled neither so much as Finwë. Both wore fine circlets adorned with the Star of Fëanor.

Finarfin was confused.

(He had not wanted to believe all the things he had been told of his nephews, but the theft of the Silmarils had happened before his very eyes. They had committed atrocious acts, he knew that, but…)

He had intended to ask for an explanation, but who were these people?

The strangers, who appeared to be twins, bowed. One stepped forward slightly and said, "Welcome, your majesties, my lords, to Amon Ereb. We are honored by your presence."

"Where are Maedhros and Maglor?" asked Gil-Galad, getting right to the point.

The twin who had not yet spoken answered. "We know not, and do not expect them to return. We were instructed to take charge if they were not here."

"And who are you, that you might be entrusted with such?" said Oropher, who harbored great anger towards the Sons of Fëanor and, by extension, their people.

The first twin spoke again. "We are Elrond and Elros Nelyafinwion, and in our father's absence, the Heads of the House of Fëanor."

The courtyard went silent.

No one moved.

Finarfin cleared his throat.

The silence continued.

The silence became awkward.

Finarfin gave up on anyone else saying something and said, "Well then, nephews, will you allow us in, that we may speak?"

The second twin inclined his head. "Of course. If you would all come this way?"

The twins led them to a meeting room as the people of the fortress scrutinized the visitors.

As they went, Gil-Galad whispered to Oropher, "Do you think it is truly them?"

"It could be," said Oropher, just as quietly. "Now that it is in my mind, I can see that they are not entirely elven in their appearance. But they are not prisoners, and name themselves sons of Maedhros. Something is afoot."

"Perhaps they forgot their lives before, due to the trauma, and recall no other parents," said Gil-Galad, trying not to think of the alternatives. "They seem to be well-cared for, not obviously hurt."

Oropher fastened him with a glare for his optimism. "Or they are mind-turned. It would not surprise me to learn that the Sons of Fëanor molded them into this, by magic or torture or lies, to mock us."

"It could be to strengthen their political position; having the heirs of -- well, everyone, now that I think about it, on their side would give them substantial power. That's probably the reason they were allowed to keep their birth names after assimilating."

Both of them looked at Celebrimbor, who had gone white as a sheet at the twins' introduction, and still wore an expression of shocked horror. He clearly had not known about this.

The meeting room was plain, but had enough chairs for the visiting party. The head of the table had two seats of equal precedence, confirming the leadership of the pair of twins.

Everyone sat, all of them but the hosts with varying degrees of discomfort with the situation.

"Now, as we said, I am Elros Nelyafinwion, and this is my brother Elrond," said one twin. "Due to an old familial decree, we both bear the name Cantëafinwë, as it is not known which of us is the elder, but we do not use it. We are also, jointly, Elenyafinwë, so as not to have to share the name."

Cantëafinwë -- it meant "fourth Finwë," just as Maedhros's name of Nelyafinwë had meant third. "Elenyafinwë'' meant "star Finwë," a nod to the meaning of their original names.

Gil-Galad glanced at Celebrimbor, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. So that was a real decree, that Maedhros's eldest child should be named the fourth Finwë, and so on. Such a name would hardly be given to hostages, so they must have been raised as the kinslayer's own.

"Now, I suppose you have questions?" said Elrond.

Círdan went first. "Indeed. To begin with, we were under the impression that you both were dead or being held hostage. What happened?"

"At no point were we dead, though we were hostages for a time," said Elrond. "But no one ever came for us, and when Gil-Estel rose, we knew our birth parents were not in a position to make the required trade to have us returned."

Elros picked up the thread. "As we were no longer useful hostages, we were viewed instead as a pair of ten-year-old children with no parents, so Maedhros and Maglor adopted us and raised us as their sons."

They remembered their birth parents. That was good in a way, but to hear the twins, barely past their majority, speak so casually of their years as hostages! And as much as they all wanted to believe that the Fëanorions would treat these children well simply because they were children, and adopt them rather than kill them out of the kindness of their hearts, it was implausible.

Mind-turned, then, for otherwise their behavior would be inexplicable, given the kidnapping and the loss of their original parents. Gil-Galad’s heart grew heavy with sorrow for Elrond and Elros, forced to become their captors’ sons and lose their selves.

“You would claim them as your parents, over Eärendil and Elwing?” said Finarfin.

“I cannot speak for my brother, but I can barely recall Eärendil’s face,” said Elros. “He did not raise us. And Elwing left us behind.”

“She had no reason to believe we would be spared if she was gone. We were, but she could not have known that, and in fact I think she would have actively doubted it. Our fathers, in contrast, raised us for nearly half a century,” said Elrond.

Gil-Galad said in surprise, “You are including the years during which you were, in your own words, hostages?”

“Yes, we are,” said Elrond, lifting his chin defiantly. “Even before we were their sons, we were children in their care, and they did not neglect our well-being or education, though it took us many months to stop being afraid.”

Personally, Gil-Galad could hardly believe the twins had ever managed to overcome their fear, no matter how falsely loving their captors had been.

"And we have questions of our own. What happened after our fathers left for your camp?" asked Elros.

The visitors exchanged glances, unsure of what to say.

"They came to our camp with stealth, under cover of darkness, and stole the two Silmarils," said Eönwë. The twins did not appear surprised. He continued, "We caught them, then let them go, and they ran. We do not know where they went afterwards, but we had expected them to return here."

Elros raised an eyebrow. "And what would you have done, if they had indeed returned? Laid siege? You made a choice when you released them. In fact, I would say you made a choice when you denied them the return of their legal property, which had previously been stolen from them, supposedly as punishment for their crimes though such an act has no precedent."

None of them had really thought of what they would do, aside from be very angry and ask for the twins back, if they lived. And they did not like the implication that they had been in the wrong when they withheld the Silmarils.

But Círdan, of course, who always thought things through, had an answer of a sort. "You are correct that we had little forethought on our course of action about that. But we had also intended to ensure that the two of you were alive and well, and arrange your release, though we now know that to be unnecessary, and warn that Beleriand is sinking and all must move east."

"Ah, let me guess," said Elrond with a sardonic grin. "You were expecting a pair of traumatized hostages who had endured cruel torment, or failing that, to find us dead. Or one of each, I suppose."

The uncomfortable shuffling of most of the room probably confirmed that for him, in Gil-Galad's opinion. It was clear, to him at least, that the majority of the visitors were highly put off by the manner the peredhil displayed, but to correct the behavior of lords in their own fortress, even such young ones, was a severe breach of etiquette.

"But I believe we have a solution," said Elros, rising from his chair. He went to a shelf and pulled down a box, setting it on the table, then opened it to reveal a palantír.

There were several sharp intakes of breath. Nearly all of the seeing-stones were heirlooms of the House of Fëanor, and the few that had been gifted to outsiders in Middle-Earth had been broken over the years. And these former hostages had apparently been trained to use them. It did not escape notice that there were a number of boxes on the shelf identical to the one Elros had removed.

The twins appeared to be quietly pleased with the chaos and discomfort they were causing.

Elrond said, "With this, we may look into the past and see what occurred after you let them go. Elros shall do it, as he is the better Seer."

Elros placed a hand on the palantír and gestured for others to do the same.

When they did, they saw Maedhros and Maglor running from the camp. After a time, they stopped and revealed the Silmarils.

Finarfin braced himself, fully expecting his nephews to kill each other over the gems for which they had sacrificed everything -- but they did not. The watchers heard their conversation, and each brother took one of the jewels.

And then the screaming started.

Finarfin nearly wept to see them burned, as Morgoth had once been. But the vision did not stop there.

A crack had opened in the ground nearby, filled with the fires of the earth. Maedhros walked towards it and, with a last inaudible murmur that might have been a prayer, cast himself in.

Maglor wept as his brother died, and he stumbled in the direction of the sea, which with every hour consumed more and more of Beleriand. He threw the Silmaril into the waves, then collapsed to the ground and ceased all movement but breathing.

The watchers found themselves pulled out of the vision, but as they lost sight of Maglor, they heard his voice singing faintly.

Back in the present, the twins at the head of the table had tears streaming down their faces, eyes wide with shock and distress (Gil-Galad thought he caught a grief-filled whisper of "Father!" but did not call attention to it). Finarfin, too, cried silently, and Celebrimbor surreptitiously wiped his eyes.

"I think we had best postpone further discussion for a time," said Elros, voice shaking.

Elrond said, "I assume that the sea does not encroach so rapidly that we are in danger tonight. You and your people are welcome to what space we have. Please excuse us." The twins stood stiffly, put away the palantír, and swiftly exited the room.

The visitors were left behind to process this.

"Celebrimbor, did you know about this?" accused Oropher.

"Of course not! I forsook my family; would they still send me regular letters reporting on their latest nefarious deeds?" said Celebrimbor.

"Calm down, both of you," said Círdan. "I do not believe Celebrimbor knew, or he would have told us. At present, what we need to discuss is what we shall do next regarding the twins."

"If they are not imposters," muttered Oropher. He was met with openmouthed staring, to which he responded "No need to act surprised, we were all thinking it."

Eönwë said, "They are who they claim to be: peredhil, and part-Maia. I can sense it from them. I have been instructed to give them the Choice to be counted among elves or Men, and I must perform that duty as soon as I may."

Finarfin nodded. "The next steps shall be clearer once they decide. If they choose elvenhood and desire to come to Valinor to reunite with their parents, I can take charge of them."

"If they choose Men, then I am sure they shall be accepted on the Isle of Gift, when it is ready," said Eönwë. "Given their descent from Bëor and Hador, and the Haladin, they might well be chosen as its lords or kings."

The elves winced. No one wanted a Fëanorian on any throne, even a Mannish one. While Elrond and Elros were indeed the sons of Elwing and Eärendil, they were raised by a pair of murderers. By now it was apparent that they were deeply Fëanorian by upbringing, though not blood.

"And what if they choose to be elves, but do not sail? By rights they should be kings of the Sindar, but it will be difficult for anyone to accept them as such if they continue to call themselves Maedhros's sons," said Círdan.

Gil-Galad rubbed his forehead. "Due to their birth father, they are also my heirs, and no one will be happy about that. It may be that the best thing we can do is allow them to lead their people east and leave them alone. Politically, they are dangerous, but I do not fear further kinslaying, for there is no longer cause for it."

"Unless Elros and Elrond were forced to swear the Oath, and now intend to kill Eärendil to fulfill it," said Oropher. "It may well have been a prerequisite to their adoption, or the price they paid to be treated well."

Gil-Galad winced. That was all too possible, and he could see why the twins might have sworn, if placed in such a situation. He would likely have agreed to far worse to change his status from prisoner to son.

Celebrimbor coughed and said quietly, "I can rejoin the House, to keep an eye on them, if you believe it may help."

"Do you think they would guess your motivations?" asked Gil-Galad. "You left for a reason."

"I left because they were committing morally reprehensible acts, not because I did not care about my family. These two claim to be my cousins, and have done nothing wrong as far as we know. It would not be out of the question."

Finarfin spoke up. "Do you think there is any way to undo the mind-turning?"

"Perhaps," said Eönwë, "though they have been under it for a long time, and will likely be very different people without it on their thoughts. I shall look at their minds when I can. If their treatment was as vile as you fear, they may have to go West for healing.”

Finarfin nodded, saying, "For now, let us bring our people in and settle. We will gather more knowledge before doing anything else."

At dinner, Elros and Elrond made the announcement to their people that all would be moving east, as the land would soon be underwater. Packing would begin the next day.

In addition, they said, Lord Maedhros was dead and Lord Maglor was likely the same.

There was some distressed murmuring, as Gil-Galad had expected. But judging from what he heard, nearly all of the remaining Fëanorian supporters would follow the lead of the peredhil they had once kept as hostages. The few that would not were planning to follow Eönwë back to Aman and reunite with family there, or were Men going to the Isle of Gift.

Afterwards, Gil-Galad and Eönwë went to speak to the twins as they walked back from the great hall.

They asked some polite questions about how the eastward move was planned, and where they and their people would settle. Elrond surprised them by pulling out a sheaf of paper where he had already begun arranging the best way to travel, and sketches of a city they could build.

Gil-Galad learned that Elrond was a healer as well as an architect, and sometimes had visions of the future, though not as regularly or in as much detail as Elros did. Elros spoke seven languages fluently (the three Edain languages, the Easterling language, Quenya, Sindarin, and the mode of Khuzdul used with outsiders), collected Mannish folktales into anthologies as a hobby, and loved to cook. Both brothers were, unsurprisingly, ambidextrous musicians and trained in the use of a variety of weapons and songs of power.

For former hostages to the allegedly second most evil people in Arda, they were very well educated.

While Gil-Galad asked his questions, Eönwë was examining their minds to see if the turning could be unraveled, so he had to keep the twins distracted.

He also had to know one thing.

"Pardon me if such a question is impolite, but I hope you understand that I must ask. Did either of you swear your fathers' Oath?" It left a bitter taste in his mouth to call the kinslayers their fathers, but it would encourage them to cooperate.

The twins froze.

Gil-Galad began to worry that they had indeed sworn. Oaths under duress or enchantment should not count, but did they anyway?

"No," said Elrond, pressing his lips into a thin line. "We have sworn nothing. Please excuse me." He bowed and entered a nearby room that appeared to be a study.

"My apologies, but I had best speak with him. Your rooms are here, your majesty," said Elros, gesturing to a suite next to the study and bowing. "I bid you goodnight." He went after Elrond.

"Quick, let us listen in!" whispered Gil-Galad, pulling Eönwë into the rooms and placing his ear against the wall.

From there, they could overhear the conversation in the study:

"Elrond, please! You know they meant no harm by it; they have to make sure their people are safe!"

"I know that! But do they honestly think we would--"

"You tried, Elrond!" Elros's voice quieted. "You tried to swear the Oath, and I try not to think about what might have happened had you succeeded."

Gil-Galad stopped breathing for a moment.

"It was just my luck that atya and atto chose that moment to return. Do not give me that look, I understand why they did not want me to, but they should not have stopped me. They are my family."

"You cannot be surprised that they forbade you from trying again, that they destroyed all record of their words to ensure you could not. What would it have accomplished, other than condemning you to a life of suffering?"

"Everything! The Host of the Valar would have given them to us, as some poetic something-or-other, they would ignore the fact that our fathers would be required to kill us for them, for they would not have known we were adopted and they care not for the safety of innocents. And -- and even if that did not work, perhaps atya and atto would not have left us, because not all hope would have been lost if there was one still able to fulfill the Oath."

Gil-Galad met Eönwë's eyes. The Maia had indeed considered giving the Silmarils to Eärendil's sons if they lived, though for multiple reasons this was no longer an option. Gil-Galad still could not process the twins calling the kinslayers by such affectionate terms.

"They love us." There was a pause. "They loved us. And they told us goodbye, which is more than Ada or Nana ever did."

"I know. And I know why they did not want me to swear. But don't you see, now there is nothing left of them! Nothing! Sooner or later, someone will insist that we renounce them, and I may have to, because there is nothing that can make that impossible, nothing that declares my loyalty so bindingly."

"I doubt there is anyone in the world who can make you do something so against your nature."

A small laugh. "You may be right. But Elros, there is so much -- we do not know if we are immortal, or how long we have. We have to protect our people, keep them safe from the people who want vengeance, make sure they can have a life somewhere. If something happens to us, where will they go? Celebrimbor might be moved to pity, but he will not shield them. We know so little of the lands to the east, or how much will sink. It might be easier with that shackle on my soul reminding me of exactly who I am."

"There are other words. Other vows."

"But none were theirs. " A sigh. "Worry not, I will swear nothing. I know it is unwise. We ought to start planning for leaving."

The door opened and footsteps went out.

The eavesdroppers remained quiet in case the twins returned, but no more footsteps came.

Eönwë broke the silence. "Their minds are free. I found no trace, no stain, of any enchantment or turning, even one of mundane means. All they have said is uninfluenced. I admit I can hardly believe it."

"They might really have been telling the entire truth," said Gil-Galad wonderingly. "I can scarce believe it myself."

In another part of the fortress, not long after, Celebrimbor ran into Lintë, an old acquaintance of his.

There was no joyful reunion, though he was glad to see her alive. He had to remind himself that she had been an accomplice to not only the kinslayings, but the abduction and mind-turning of two innocent children, and he could not forgive that, but...

...she might be able to give him answers.

"Lintë!" he said in greeting. "Are you well?"

"Well enough," she said curtly, clearly unwilling to speak with him further. "Now, if you will excuse me, I must go see my lords. If Beleriand is soon to be no more, there is packing to do."

"Is it not strange to serve those who once were your prisoners?" he asked innocently.

She sighed. "Several people have asked so, and no. We have all had decades to get used to the idea of them as Lord Maedhros's heirs. They are grandsons of Fëanor, just like you."

She was not incorrect; none of them would ever have chosen this, but it upset him. "Is it supposed to make me feel better, knowing that you turned their minds young and groomed them for this position in mockery? Do they even know all that you have done to them, or did you erase that from their memories?"

Lintë rounded on him and pointed a finger in his face. "Listen, Celebrimbor," she said in warning, "do not speak of that which you do not know. You were not here, you did not see them grow up. We did. There is not a single resident of Amon Ereb who would not gladly kill and die for those boys we helped to raise. Here they are beloved, and your new friends, " she spat the words, "never came for them. Neither did you, though they longed to meet the cousin they heard so much about."

"We thought them dead!" he cried. "We had no proof that they yet lived, and once the star rose, all hope was gone, for there was nothing to ransom with. Perhaps I would have met the twins sooner had you folk not kidnapped them and proceeded to turn their minds."

"Is that what you think? That, I don't know, Lord Maglor simply enchanted them into loving their guardians with his music? You were not there. The children were fading as we left Sirion, their fëar weak from neglect."

"Because you drove Elwing--"

"Elwing was half-possessed and had no time for them besides. They had not seen their father in over a year. They were six years old. You are far too well-read not to know what that means," she accused.

Celebrimbor reared back. He did know. An elfling's fëa had to be nurtured through bonds with their parents in order for them to grow properly, which required the parents to be present for the elfling's formative years. To lack such spiritual nourishment caused the child to fade.

Lintë kept talking. "The twins could have died. Lords Maedhros and Maglor adopted them that very night. Put themselves in the place of parents, created that bond the children needed to survive. In the eyes of Eru, they have been the lords' sons since the day they were brought here. And we know better than any not to take the name of the One lightly."

Celebrimbor was silent, his mind whirling. He slumped against the wall, and Lintë took that as her cue to leave.

Finarfin was cornered by the seneschal Erestor after dinner and politely dragged off to discuss logistics. It was something he would have expected to speak to the lords of the fortress about, but Finarfin supposed they must be busy, and in any case quite young (he carefully silenced the thought that the twins were only figureheads being controlled by their advisors, and had never actually received an education that would prepare them to lead).

Erestor's ideas for the eastward move had the Fëanorians follow the old dwarf-road through the mountains to Belegost. They would leave after the visiting host to avoid possible conflict between their peoples. "Alternately," he said, "we could move north and return to Himring. It is high enough up to escape the flood, from what I gather, though 'tis presently in disrepair, and I know not if the Men who live with us would follow."

Ah, yes, the Men. Somehow a sizable number of them had come to fight alongside the Fëanorians, and they had apparently been the twins' responsibility for years now, ostensibly to make them acquainted with leadership, if it was true at all.

"This seems like something to talk to Lords Elros and Elrond about, in conference with King Gil-Galad," said Finarfin suspiciously.

Erestor's lips quirked. "Lord Elrond loves maps almost as much as he loves his brother. Planning a route will be done quicker if he keeps out of it, so Lord Elros delegated it to me. And you, your majesty, are the most likely to know if the Host of the Valar intend to do something about us -- imprisonment, trial, anything of the kind."

"Could you not ask Eönwë?"

"He went off with King Gil-Galad. I also supposed you might have questions,  and it is better you ask me than distress the lords with your interrogation. They are young still, and their loss fresh."

Finarfin could not trust the words of Elrond and Elros's former captors, especially now that he was being actively kept from the twins (would they say something their advisors did not want spoken?), but he had no choice.

"I do indeed."

"Ask, then," said Erestor. "Nothing will get done while you folk have this curiosity hanging over your heads."

"Why did you never return the children, even after Gil-Estel rose?" Finarfin asked.

"We offered. They refused."

Finarfin blinked.

Erestor continued. "Lords Maedhros and Maglor already loved the twins as their sons, but no longer had the pretense of keeping them hostage to justify their presence. It would have been difficult to return the children to their kin on Balar, but they would have found a way to the moon if it was what the boys wished."

It was odd to hear of his nephews, who had until now been spoken of only as cruel monsters, portrayed as doting and indulgent fathers.

"Elros and Elrond had been adopted the very day they were abducted, so as to keep them from fading. The lords offered to break that fëa-bond of adoption and deliver them safely to Gil-Galad, and the twins declined, instead choosing to be adopted formally, which was when they gained their Finwë-names."

Erestor paused. Upon seeing that Finarfin was not going to say anything, he shrugged. "We had decided to leave the choice to them, and they chose. They may be our lords now, but they are still the children that we watched grow up. You must understand why we are protective."

Finarfin found his words again. "I understand completely. I had no intention of distressing them." Within, his mind whirled. If this account were true, it upended their theories on the twins' situation. "Is there anything else you wished to discuss?"

"No. I will admit that this was mostly a screening process to ensure the lords' safety with you. I will take you to them, and you may speak of the move."

Círdan and Oropher decided to explore the fortress and gather what they could from the conversations of its inhabitants. Surely there would be some dissent, some people unhappy to follow Elros and Elrond because they were peredhil, or adopted, or Sindarin, or young. Those were the people who would speak the most truthfully.

But try as they might, they could find no hint of bitterness or discontent.

Upon hearing two women begin to speak of Elrond and Elros, Círdan and Oropher hid behind a pillar to listen.

"It is just that I worry for them, Béa," said the woman who had been introduced to them as Tanorth of the People of Bór. "Who would not? They may be used to leadership of a small collection of people, but not of a House."

"And only days ago they lost their parents," said her wife, Béa of the Haladin. "I do not doubt their capability, but to have all this thrown upon them without time to mourn -- and they have just reached their majority, by elvish standards. They are doing so much."

"They have us, though, and the rest of their people. They are not alone," said Tanorth.

"I know, I know." Béa sighed. "But I do not trust these visitors of ours. I doubt they have our lords’ best interests in mind, and I will not stand to see Lords Elros and Elrond hurt or used as pawns. If they try to harm our boys, they shall feel my blade."

"My love, I do believe you would have to get in line to reprimand them, along with the rest of the fortress. You remember what Seneschal Erestor did to that awful Sinda who made the twins cry, and there was no end to the complaints from the people who were not around to help him do it."

"Ai, how many graves shall we have to dig before these folk go hence?" said Béa with a laugh.

Tanorth's lips quirked. "I have half a mind to start making bets on the matter. But I think murder might upset our ever-so-virtuous guests."

"Then they should simply refrain from doing something to deserve it, and we shall all be happy. And at present Erestor is busy guarding the lords from any threat to their physical or emotional wellbeing, so should anyone offer insult out here, it shall be everyone else's duty to handle."

"At least the boys' fathers prepared them to lead," said Béa. "And they have the support of all the others who love them. They will be fine."

The women walked away, still talking lightheartedly.

Oropher and Círdan exchanged worried glances. Just like everything else they had heard this evening: Elrond and Elros were universally beloved, their people did not question their status as Maedhros and Maglor's sons and heirs, and there was not a single resident of Amon Ereb who would bat an eye at killing someone who had upset their "little stars."

This did not bode well for their continued survival if the twins were indeed mind-turned and decided to consolidate power.

The visitors regrouped to confer and compare notes after their meetings.

Eönwë had the most important piece of what they had gathered: "The twins are not mind-turned. Their thoughts, feelings, and memories are clear. Not even a turning done by careful miseducation, free of enchantment, lies upon them."

"Apparently they were adopted to stop their fading after Sirion. My source is one of their people, but one I have known prior to this visit, and I doubt she would lie about such a thing," said Celebrimbor. "She is fiercely loyal to them."

"That seems to be a pattern," said Finarfin. "Their seneschal kept me from asking them anything about their captivity, under the guise of making sure I would not distress them. I do not know if we can trust that, but if it is true and all their people are so devoted, the twins are a terrible force to be reckoned with."

"They are," said Círdan, rubbing his forehead. "From what I heard, there have been incidents of murder and kinslaying when someone had severely upset the peredhil, especially when they were very young."

Oropher said, "There is no dissent among the people, no question of their right or ability to rule. They might as well be Maedhros or Maglor's biological children for the purposes of succession, and they were apparently well trained for this."

"They are not the only ones who may be too loyal. Eönwë and I overheard a conversation between Elrond and Elros, and -- and apparently, Elrond once attempted to swear the Oath," said Gil-Galad.

Finarfin was first to break the horrified silence that followed. "Did he succeed?"

Gil-Galad shook his head. "Maedhros and Maglor stopped him, then destroyed every copy of the words so he could not easily repeat the attempt."

"You'd think they would want more people on their side to fulfill the awful thing," said Oropher. "And it seems counterintuitive to ban their supposed son from doing something that makes his allegiance binding."

"Their seneschal said that the twins were offered the chance to be returned, but freely chose instead to be adopted in the proper manner," said Finarfin. "Once again, I must doubt the veracity of this,  but if it is true, what then?"

"Then we have two loyal Fëanorians who do not know or trust us, their violently protective people who do not like us, no excuse to immediately leave their domain, and no strongholds to retreat to if we did," said Oropher.

Put like that, this was a terrifying situation to be in, even for multiple kings and a Maia.

He continued, "When we cross the mountains, I am going to go find a nice forest and never leave. I am tired of responsibility and politics. Perhaps if I hide in the woods for a few thousand years these twins will decide I am not a threat and leave me to my trees. You folk are on your own."

"Perhaps we will be lucky and they will choose mortality," said Gil-Galad hopefully.

"And what of their people?" asked Celebrimbor. "If you think they will all follow me without complaint, you are lying to yourself. With our luck so far, they would accompany their lords to the Isle of Gift and serve their heirs until their lines die out. And Men can be..." he trailed off.

"I believe the word you are searching for is 'awful,' and you forget that they have mortal supporters as well, who are just as devoted," said Círdan. "But the real issue is we do not know what these lords want. If it is power they desire, they will be difficult to stop, whether here or on the Isle of Gift or in Aman."

"I will offer them the Choice tomorrow, and we shall all look for what insight we can find," said Eönwë.

The next day, Finarfin and Gil-Galad went to speak to the lords of the fortress about their plans for the new Age soon to begin. Finarfin would be returning to Aman, of course.

"--and I will establish my court in what will be left of Ossiriand, at least if there is an appropriate place."

Elros nodded. "We will lead our people east, rather than north to Himring as we had considered. A new start would be beneficial."

"And from what we--"

A five-year-old Edain girl burst into the room, something clutched in her cupped hands. "Lord Elrond, Lord Elros!" she cried.

Gil-Galad immediately panicked on behalf of the child. Normally children were kept away from where important meetings were held to avoid this exact situation, and he now knew the peredhil to be as terrifying as their adoptive fathers. They would not be pleased by the interruption.

But to his surprise, Elrond stopped in the middle of his sentence to smile and scoop her up. "What's that you have there, Orînen?"

"It's a really pretty bug!" she said. "It's all green and shiny, look!" She parted her clasped hands just enough for them to look at the insect.

Elrond oohed and aahed appreciatively.

"That's a very nice bug," said Elros. "Do you want to look at the book in the library to figure out what it is?"

Orînen nodded vigorously, her braids flying about her head.

"Alright, let's -- oh," he turned to Finarfin and Gil-Galad. "My apologies. Orînen, dear one, say hello to the High Kings."

"H'llo, your majesties," she said, shyer now that she was speaking to unknown people, trying to hide behind Elrond despite currently sitting in his lap. "I'm Orînen, daughter of Béa and Tanorth."

"Good job!" said Elrond encouragingly. "Do you want to join us in our grown-up meeting? I think you're old enough if you want to."

She thought about it, then shook her head. "I wanna go to the library and look up my bug. Erestor can go with me, he knows all the best bugs."

Elros put a hand to his chest as if scandalized. "And I don't?"

"You know all the best flowers. It's different," said Orînen. She walked out the door and Erestor bowed before following her.

That had been rather unexpected. Were all children in Amon Ereb coddled so? If so, the twins must have had a very pleasant childhood indeed.

Gil-Galad decided to ask. "Is this a common occurrence?"

"Very," said Elros, "although sometimes she brings flowers or rocks she found instead. All the children do it."

"They do it to all the adults, but mostly us," said Elrond with a small laugh. "Since we are 'in charge,' we must be the first people they show. They did it to atya and atto, too, and so did we when we were small."

"Surely it must be difficult, when you are busy with important matters?" said Gil-Galad.

"What could possibly be more important than the children's happiness?" said Elros, looking puzzled. "Everyone here would do the same. It has always been this way, all the adults acting as aunts and uncles."

As casually as possible, Finarfin said, "So that is how you were raised?"

"Of course. I will admit that it took some getting used to, having such attentive guardians, and so many, especially at first when we were afraid," said Elrond. "But I believe we grew up better for it."

Elros added, "And we were secure in the knowledge that, should we lose our present guardians, someone we knew and loved would take care of us."

Gil-Galad tried not to flinch in reaction to the barbs aimed at the twins' birth parents and himself. "It is good to know that you were supported. We were worried that they had hurt you."

Elrond sighed. "Truly, I do not know what else to say to convince you that we were treated well, even when we were, at least nominally, prisoners. We were never injured or starved or isolated, but loved and cherished by everyone we knew."

Finarfin let the subject drop and returned to negotiation. He needed all his wits for it; the twins were young, but cynical and shrewd from growing up in war.

"We may have a problem," said Galadriel.

Gil-Galad began to panic, but tried to remain outwardly calm. "What is it?" he asked. Even under cover of darkness, they would not be able to get all their people out of the fortress, and it would not buy them much of a head start. If they could make it to Nogrod, where the dwarves might still hold a grudge against Thingol's heirs--

"One of the Men from our host has gone missing. I do not doubt he is either dead or soon to be."

Perhaps they would not have to flee this very moment. He tried to calm his racing heart until he knew whether or not the situation was panic-worthy. "What happened?"

Galadriel said, "From what I heard, he struck a child to make them quiet. Then a great flock of Fëanorians descended on the pair, half of them comforting and hugging the child and the other half dragging the man away. No one has seen him since."

"At least it was not Kinslaying?" Gil-Galad offered weakly.

She gave him a look that said, You may not be entirely wrong, but you are still a fool that I cannot believe I am related to.

"Does it seem as if people want something done about it?" he said. "There is little we can do, but I will try if I must."

Galadriel shook her head. "It may have been drastic, but the man was clearly in the wrong, and all the elves and Men who live here clearly dote on the children and spoil them. I do not know what he expected to happen, really."

“Good, because I do not wish to argue with these people in their own fortress. Or anywhere else, come to think of it, but especially not here. I am doing my best to avoid being the victim of another kinslaying, not least because the twins are my heirs apparent and would inherit the high kingship upon my death.”

“Chin up, it would not have to be a kinslaying that sends you to Mandos. There are plenty of Men around who would gladly kill you for them,” said Galadriel, unreassuringly.

“Thank you so much for that.”

Gil-Galad fidgeted. Eönwë was soon to offer the twins the Choice of the Peredhil, and everything hung in the balance. The world seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of their decision.

Gil-Galad fervently hoped that they would choose to be counted among Men, or else sail. He did not believe that they meant harm, not at present, but they still had great potential to cause it.

He stood near Eönwë as the Maia spoke.

"Lord Elros and Lord Elrond, sons of Maedhros and Maglor," said Eönwë, who in light of their legitimate adoption was required to call them such, "the Valar have ordained that all peredhil shall have the Choice to be counted among Men or elves, and to share the fate of the kindred they choose."

The twins' faces remained impassive.

Choosing not to notice, Eönwë went on. "The choice of to take the Gift of Men shall hold for the self and all descendants, though all would be long-lived, even by the standard of the Isle of Gift where you would be welcomed and where longevity shall be bestowed. The children of one who chooses elvenhood will also have this Choice."

The peredhil turned to look at each other. They were clearly speaking mind-to-mind, and the conversation lasted for several minutes.

"We have chosen," Elros announced. "I will take the Gift of Men, and when the time comes I will lead the Men of our people to the Isle of Gift."

"And I shall be an elf," said Elrond. "That said, with your permission, High King Gil-Galad, I would like for our House to join your court."

What?

Everyone else seemed just as confused. Were they truly sundering their fates in such a way? But it appeared they had heard correctly.

Elros would go to the Isle of Gift, and Elrond would -- ai, Valar, he would go with Gil-Galad! He could not refuse to have his kinsman at his court, though he would bring with him all the elves of the House of Fëanor. At least Gil-Galad would be able to keep an eye on him.

"I would be honored," he said.

It did not seem as if Elrond planned to have him assassinated, and thus far the twins had been entirely honest in their words and desire to protect their people.

For it all to be false, they would have to be very good actors indeed.

Elros and Elrond were very good actors indeed.

And thank the Valar for that, because the High King's host would arrive in two days and they would have to pretend their fathers were dead.

Maedhros and Maglor had arrived in haste with their hands burned and hurriedly explained to their sons that they had stolen the Silmarils, which had burned them, so they had thrown the gems away and run back to Amon Ereb.

"No one saw that, but they expect us to have come here," said Maglor, gesturing with his freshly-bandaged hand, "so we are disappearing and going east. We will find you once everyone is convinced we are dead."

"How are we to explain to them what happened to you, if we supposedly have not seen you?" said Elrond.

From where he was working with a palantír, Maedhros said, "With this. I have placed a false scene that will play on any seeing stone in the network if they try to see what happened. I will warn you that it is distressing."

Maglor said, "Of course, this means that you two are now in charge permanently.”

Elros started at that. "But we are only fifty-five!"

"You are fully grown and have been for a while now," said Maedhros. "And I would not ask you to do this if I did not have every confidence in you. Besides, you will have each other, and all of your people want you to succeed, so you need only ask for help."

He paused. "I overheard something in their camp. For the sake of symmetry or some such, they had been considering giving you the Silmarils if you yet lived. I doubt they would have, in the end, and we could not risk you getting hurt, but for them to consider it -- they are either cruel or extraordinarily thoughtless." The host of Aman did not know the twins had been adopted; they considered placing two innocent youths directly in the path of the Oath. Maedhros could not forgive that they could have thus forced him to kill his children.

Maglor said, "From what I heard, the Valar intend to offer all peredhil a choice between being a very long-lived Man or an immortal elf. Your birth parents chose to be counted as elves, and I do not doubt you will be given the decision, too."

Elrond and Elros looked at each other.

"We will not make this choice for you," added Maedhros. "Whatever you choose, you have our support. And the rumors of Men being given a land of their own soon are true, if that influences your decision."

What do you think? Elros asked his twin.

I think I would make a rather good elf.

I would be a very good Man, in my opinion. Elvenhood is for you, I think; I can See many partings ahead of you, but there is no sorrow anywhere without also the kind of joy that lights you up from the inside.

You will be a king, and I will miss you.

You will raise kings and queens, and I will miss you, too.

I will see you again. I am less of a Seer than you, but I know this.

I do not doubt it. And when we meet once more after the long parting, I shall tell you what I found. You will be the first elf to know what lies beyond Arda.

Neither of us will regret this.

Elrond spoke aloud. "I will be an elf."

"And I a Man," said Elros.

"Then that is what you shall be," said Maglor, enfolding them in a hug. "We must go soon, but we will see you in just a few years, certainly before you head to the Isle of Gift, Elros." His golden voice cracked slightly. "I love you both so very much."

Maedhros joined the embrace and murmured, "I love you as well, my stars. We will be careful, and come find you the moment it is safe."

"Love you, atya. Love you, atto," said Elrond, muffled by his fathers hugging him as if their lives depended on it.

Elros, too, said, "I love you. You shall have to visit me on the Isle of Gift once I have built a house there."

Not long after, two figures slipped out of the fortress and off into the night.

"How are we going to play this?" asked Elrond the next morning. A day and a half left.

"What do you mean?" said Elros, putting down his book on floriography.

Elrond sighed. "I mean, how are we going to portray what happened to us? If we play the traumatized hostages, they are sure to take us under their protection, but they might be angry at our people because they 'allowed it,' and we might not be able to protect them from the High King pressing charges."

"We could claim that they were victims as much as we, all 'subject to the whims of the same keepers?' No, they have met a number of our people before, that will not work. But if we tell them the truth, they will think us mind-turned, and if we denied being so they would only believe it all the more."

"We could let them think that," Elrond suggested. "Imply that they took two innocent children and turned us into loyal Fëanorians to mock our families."

"No one will trust us then. Pity us, fear us, yes, but never trust, and that is a lonely life. And we would have to call ourselves Elenyafinwë and Cantëafinwë, which is worse still," said Elros.

They both made a face at their shared names.

"They do need to fear us a little, at least," Elrond said, "so they do not try to prosecute our people. And we cannot allow ourselves to become the pawns of others."

"Then the truth would be best, aside from the fact that atto and atya are alive and visited us. But they will not believe it."

"...I have an idea, but it will take careful work and no small amount of acting."

"Do share, my dear twin."

Elrond gestured as he spoke, growing excited. "We may stage things. Some conversations for them to overhear, scenes to watch, that will help them come to the right conclusion. We need not be truthful to help them realize the truth."

Elros grinned. "I like it already."

"Let them hear us argue about a time I tried to swear the Oath out of love and loyalty, but atto stopped me, though what really happened was my attempting to read it aloud out of a book, not realizing what it was. Let Erestor field their questions, our protective seneschal keeping possible sources of distress away."

"Let Lintë speak of our impromptu adoption, for she was there and was always the best orator. Let them overhear Tanorth and Béa worry over the boys who just lost their parents. Let them fear the twins who command such loyalty, at least enough not to try anything we would dislike."

"And let us mock them, just a little, for never coming for us. We did not wish to be rescued, but they ought to have tried," said Elrond.

"We may have to imply that we do not care much for our birth parents, and speak badly of them in order to make our guests believe us," said Elros. "But we need not lie outright, only... exaggerate."

"They will surely defend our birth parents to us, and in a few years we can pretend at a 'softening of the heart' and return to being truthful."

They went off in search of their advisors to make a plan.

"--and after dinner, we will lead Gil-Galad to his room and find some excuse to stage a fight in the study next to his quarters, which he will surely overhear," said Elrond. "So we need you, Erestor, to keep Finarfin busy until we are done."

"Someone passing by will give you the all-clear sign," said Elros. "The story behind the fight we will have is that Elrond purposefully attempted to swear the Oath, but atya and atto stopped him. He certainly did not attempt to practice reading Quenya aloud from a book with the text and give our fathers a heart attack. Other than that, we will be as truthful as possible, though we will hide much."

There were nods from the assembled leaders of Amon Ereb, who would soon be relaying the strategy to the people under their commands.

"Lintë, you were friends with Celebrimbor, correct?" said Elros.

She nodded. "I will emphasize the family aspect, we all know how weak he is to that."

"Good. You may all spread as many rumors as you like among their people as long as they cannot be traced back."

"Should we keep the various incidents of murder under wraps?" asked Tanorth.

Elros opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Elrond. "No, this will be easier if they are at least somewhat afraid of all of us. Not in that they think we will do something unprovoked, but in that crossing the Fëanorians is dangerous."

Elros sighed. "Fine, speak of it if you wish. Remember to make sure you are overheard, especially by their leaders, but do not repeat yourselves or others overmuch. They cannot become suspicious."

"Also," said Elrond suddenly, "let the children be underfoot a bit, over the course of the visit. Show them what we have all worked to protect, that we care for them."

The meeting dispersed.

The great host of elves, Men, dwarves, and Maiar reached Amon Ereb a day later, in the early afternoon. The people of the fortress, down to the young human children, were prepared to put on a grand performance for their visitors.

Elros squeezed Elrond's hand in reassurance just before the gate opened.

High King Finarfin stared at them confusedly, and they knew it was time to begin.

Elrond stepped forward. "Welcome, your majesties, my lords, to Amon Ereb. We are honored by your presence."

...This would be a trial, the twins could tell so the moment the visitors spoke, but it was entirely worth it for the looks on their faces the moment they introduced themselves as Nelyafinwion.

They had chosen that name for several reasons. First, to emphasize their right to be in command, for Maglor’s sons would have less authority than the sons of the eldest brother, and to call attention to their leadership of the House of Fëanor. Second, to indicate that they spoke Quenya, which had long since been forbidden.

But more importantly, it was a power play. As sons of Maedhros, Cantëafinwë, they were descendants of Finwë in the direct eldest line, and if the entire succession had been less of a mess, they could have been the High Kings. Once people thought about that, they would also think of Elros and Elrond’s birth parentage, which put them again in line for High Kingship and made them by default Kings of the Sindar, and they were descended from all three Houses of the Edain.

Simply put, they were higher-born than anyone they had ever met, and their audience would know it.

All together, they were saying, See how powerful we are, raised by figures from your nightmares and now commanding their people, we who are heirs to every great family in Middle-Earth. Just think what we could do if we ever tried.

They did not have to make-believe their shock and pain when they watched the false vision in the palantír.

They had planned that, of course; the twins had not looked at the vision beforehand to ensure their reaction was genuine, but they now wished they had not been so concerned with authenticity.

This vision would not fail to horrify them even if they watched it a thousand times.

It was one thing to know that their fathers were alive and waiting for them past the Ered Luin, and quite another to watch them die in despair.

(It was too much like bursting into the room when their mother was already halfway out the window and she saw them and reached out but it was too late and she left them, she left them--)

Elros and Elrond hurriedly took their leave, extending a polite invitation for the kings' host to abide with them. As soon as they exited the meeting room, they made immediately for their own quarters, Erestor following them.

The twins collapsed on the couch and cried, and their seneschal gave them each a kiss on the forehead and some water to drink before being pulled into a desperate hug.

Dinner went as smoothly as could be expected.

Afterwards, they walked Gil-Galad to his rooms and pretended not to notice Eönwë scrutinizing their minds. The conversation turned into a contest between Elrond and Elros to see who could brag about the other more.

As it turned out, they did not have to bring up the Oath at all, as High King Gil-Galad did it himself. Their scripted argument went perfectly; there was no way they had not been overheard.

The twins set off to talk logistics with High King Finarfin.

That meeting was actually productive, in no small part because Elrond had not been given any maps and Erestor spent the entire time glaring at the king as if daring him to bring up something irrelevant like the kidnapping.

At the end of the night, the twins and their advisors listened in while the visitors held council. The plan had worked perfectly so far; the kings and their lords were too afraid of the Fëanorians to even consider bringing anyone to trial.

The next day was a similar series of meetings, with careful lies and half-truths to build up the story they wished to tell.

The children of the fortress (all Men, as most elves refused to have children during war) were allowed to run around and get in the way more than usual, and the adults needed no prompting to dote on them as always.

The best moment with the children was during a meeting with the High Kings. They had been discussing the plan for Gil-Galad to set up his court in the remnants of Ossiriand after the flood when little five-year-old Orînen came in to show Elrond and Elros a bug she had found.

Given the expressions on the kings' faces, Elros thought they might have gone a bit overboard in encouraging fear, but this would moderate it. The idea was to provide a view of the loving environment that they had grown up in, and thus convince their guests that they had been raised well, that the Fëanorians knew how to treat children.

The plan also had the added benefit of everyone getting to spend time spoiling the young ones.

Elros and Elrond complimented her bug, and she decided that Erestor should help her look in the library to figure out what kind it was.

Orînen bustled out of the room, not even looking to see if Erestor followed (he did, of course).

They settled back in to continue the meeting, which soon became an interrogation now that the seneschal was not looming over the kings.

There had already been a murder.

It was not due to any threat or insult towards either of the peredhil, but one of the visiting Men had struck a child to quiet them, and the nearby Fëanorians had descended upon the scene.

Half went to comfort the crying child, and the other half had dragged the offending Man away, never to be seen again.

"At least it was not kinslaying," said Elros after word reached him. "And I must agree with our people in this case; that behavior was unacceptable."

Elrond's voice was muffled by his desk, where he had laid his head. "It is only the second day of the visit. Did this Man fail to understand that we are not to be crossed?"

"Ah, hubris, the great weakness of Men," said Elros.

"You are going to be one of them, you know."

"Are you saying I need more foolish pride?"

"I am saying that you shall fit right in," said Elrond, rolling his eyes. "Speaking of which, I think it is time that we make the Choice, out in public and in front of our people."

“Do you think Gil-Galad will accept you at his court?”

“I sincerely hope so. With the king at least partly on our side, there will be no retribution against our people, and I know you have Seen something. Your foresight had better be correct.”

"It was very clear, two significant people will come to his court over the course of time, and it is crucial that you are there to meet them. One good, one bad." Elros patted him on the shoulder. “Listen, it would be terribly rude of him to say no even if he were not currently a guest in our fortress. I think he will agree.”

Elros and Elrond embraced each other.

"We did it," said Elrond. "We made our decision, and our people are safe."

"Soon we may move east, and see atya and atto again." Elros laughed. "I shall have to start a kingdom! I think I will adopt a variant of the star for my heraldry. In many thousands of years when its past is forgotten, the symbol of our family shall be found across Middle-Earth."

"You have time to figure it out. I shall have to design and build the elven capital city immediately, and eventually a place for myself. But I will have our cousin Celebrimbor with me, and one of those two golden strangers you foresaw."

One day my kingdom will fall, as all kingdoms do, mine more literally than most, said Elros, mind-to-mind as he usually did while prophesying. When my descendants come to you, promise me you will help them.

No oaths, but of course I will, Elrond responded in kind.

Good. What lies ahead of you is bittersweet, but hope shall never desert you or your children. Remember those words, because it is a pun you will not understand until nearly the end of the Third Age.

You and your future puns! Any other advice from your foresight?

Elros hummed. Your daughter will choose mortality to marry her love and be a queen of Men. Þauron lives yet, but you will live to see him destroyed entirely.

Our daughters will have matching names, said Elrond, looking into the future himself. That is sweet. I must say, your descendants will love to name their children things that would make elves flinch. I like it.

Elros opened his eyes and pulled back. "Do tell!" he said aloud, eyes sparkling.

"There are a number of them named Túrin, for one thing."

"Incredible. I am going to make Quenya the official language for affairs of state, and all my descendants will end up with my distinctive accent."

"I think we both made the right choice for that alone. There is no point in doing such if no one is around to witness its fruition. Now help me pack."