Lords of Amon Ereb by JazTheBard

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Chapter 2

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.

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