Expeditions into Anti-Fanon by Lyra

Unforgiving

Started for two B2MeM 2012 prompts: "(Write against) Silmarillion Fanon" G59 (Maglor+Daeron=BFF) and "Dwarves in the First Age" and "Smells" B6 (Thingol's death and Wood Smoke, respectively). Sort of stretching the latter prompt, but oh well.
Polished and published for SoWD '13.

Daeron's solitary seaside reflections are interrupted by news, and later, a visitor.
A double drabble according to OOW.

Unforgiving

Daeron cursed the Dwarves when he heard of Thingol's death, hoping that they would break their fingers whenever they wrote his cirth. He rejoiced when Dior Aranel caught them and slaughtered every last one of them, reclaiming the Nauglamír and avenging Thingol. He was far from Menegroth by that time, yet the news reached him eventually, as later did the intelligence that the vile sons of Fëanor had slain Dior.
All for that accursed mortal, Daeron thought, and for that accursed jewel which had been the means of stealing Lúthien from him.
For Lúthien's sake, he mourned for her son.

The smell of wood-smoke rose from the small fire, mingling with the odours of the sea.
"We are not so different, you and I," the Noldo said. "Betrayed by our obsession, left behind by our kin..."
Daeron said nothing. His fingers clenched around his flute.
"We repent of things we have done, but cannot change the past," said the kinslayer.
Daeron said nothing.
"And there is the music," said the harper.
Daeron said nothing.
"The years will be lonely," said Maglor Fëanorion. "Some company might be pleasant, don't you think?"
Daeron kept his gaze on the horizon.
"No," he said.