Foundlings by Aearwen2

Celegorm stirred up his brothers to prepare an assault upon Doriath. They came at unawares in the middle of winter, and fought with Dior in the Thousand Caves; and so befell the second slaying of Elf by Elf. There fell Celegorm by Dior's hand, and there fell Curufin, and dark Caranthir; but Dior was slain also, and Nimloth his wife, and the cruel servants of Celegorm seized his young sons and left them to starve in the forest.  Of this Maedhros indeed repented, and sought for them long in the woods of Doriath; but his search was unavailing, and of the fate of Eluréd and Elurín no tale tells.  The Silmarillion "Of The Ruin of Doriath"

Chapter 1 - Abandoned 

"Nana, are you going to tell us a story tonight?"  Elurín gazed hopefully up into his mother's face.  He didn't like it when she looked so serious; both he and his brother loved her laughter.

Next to him, Eluréd clapped his hands and laughed.  "Oh, yes, Nana!  Tell us a story, please?"

But Elurín could see that Nana had other things on her mind.  She kept looking back over her shoulder.  "Nana," he asked quietly.  "Are you all right?"  He tipped his head – something he'd learned from his Ada – and listened.  Somewhere, far to the front of the many hallways that comprised Menegroth, there was a racket.  "What is all the noise?"

Nana looked like some of the color had faded from her face.  "It is nothing, my little one.  But I fear I shall not be able to tell you stories this night.  Your Ada and I need to attend to some…"

"Is it a party, Nana?" Eluréd asked with his eyes wide.  "Can we watch?  We promise we will be very quiet, and nobody will know…"

"No, sweetling, it is no party that makes noise like that."  Nana bent over their bed.  "Let me give you each a special kiss to send you quickly into the Land of Dreams."

Nana's "special kisses" were a treat.  Somehow she could make Elurín feel very safe and loved with just that one little gesture.  She saved them back, as treats for being good, or sometimes as a way to get him to do something he might not want to.  She would press her cheek against his and hum very softly and low, and the sound could calm him when nothing else could. 

Somehow, the "special kiss" was especially sweet this night, and he snuggled down next to his twin with a contented sigh.  Eluréd did the same in his turn, wrapping his arm around Elurín's waist in a gesture of protection that had been a constant, and laying his head on Elurín's shoulder.

Nana's hands played with their curls for a little while longer, as if she maybe didn't really want to leave.  And then, suddenly, Elurín heard the sound of her soft footsteps going towards the door, and then closing it after.

"What do you think that noise is, if it is not a party?" Eluréd whispered at him.

Elurín shrugged his shoulder.  "I do not know."  He listened hard, wishing that Nana hadn't closed the door to their bedchamber all the way this time.  Normally she left it a little bit open, so that some of the light could sneak in.  He yawned.  "We shall have to ask tomorrow."

Eluréd yawned too.  " Yea…"

In no time at all, both of them had drifted off into dreams of parties.

oOoOo

The crash of the door bursting open frightened them both from their dreams, and Eluréd clung to his brother.  Their fears waned a little when they realized that it was their Nana that had rushed in – Nana and the Captain Dúraeglir of the wide smile and the sparkling laugh.

"Awaken, boys!" Captain boomed, his voice, as always, sounding jovial.  "This is a very special evening, and you do not wish to miss it."

"Come now," Nana added her smile to the mix.  "Get into your outdoor clothing now, quickly."

"Nana…"  Eluréd yawned and rubbed at his eye.  "Is it still dark?"

Nana sat down on the edge of the bed and gathered one of them to each side.  "Yes, my best ones, it is still dark.  But this is a very special time, and you must hurry to get ready."  She nudged Eluréd to get him to sit up and not snuggle down against her.  "Come now, up with you."

Eluréd noticed that his brother was no happier about the development than he was.  Nana pulled his heavier, woolen shirt and leggings on, and then his soft suede trousers and tunic, while Captain did the same to Elurín.  There was a crash in the distance, and Nana turned a frightened face to Captain.  "That was…"

"Go on with you, Lady," Captain reassured her firmly as he tugged the tunic into place at last.  "I shall see to your sons' safety.  I shall find Eirien and Elwing, and we shall keep the children safe."  He nodded and gestured to the door.  "Go, and may the stars light your way."

"Elbereth!" Nana breathed softly and looked slowly from one little face to the other.  "Be good for Captain Dúraeglir, and do exactly as he tells you.  Will you do that for me?"

"Yes, Nana," Elurín nodded, his eyes wide.

Eluréd started to sniffle.  "Nana…"

Surprisingly, Nana bent and gave each of them another of her "special kisses" before turning and running from the room.  She wasn't acting right, and Eluréd was beginning to think that maybe things weren't all right after all.  He looked up at the Captain and saw the tight, worried look.  "What is wrong?"

Captain looked down, and the worried look faded into the familiar smile.  "Why, nothing is the matter, little one.  But hurry now - take up your cloaks and come along.  We must be away."

"But what about…"

"Did your Nana not tell you to do as I told you?"  Captain's brows nearly met over his nose.

"Yes, sir," Eluréd sighed.  One day, when he was all grown up, he would never confuse little boys in the middle of the night.

He put his hand up, and knew that his twin had done the same.  But Captain didn't want to just walk with them at his side; no, Captain leaned down and gathered them both up in his arms.  "I want you boys to put your heads on my shoulders and close your eyes now," he directed, and Eluréd could hear that all of the happiness, the joy, the laughter, had left his voice.  "Do not open your eyes."

"Why…" began Elurín.

"I must ask you not to ask questions.  You must be very quiet as well, so no whispers or talking."

"Where is Elwing?" Elurín insisted.  Eluréd wrinkled his nose; his sister was nothing but a pest who followed them around and wouldn't leave them alone most of the time. 

"We go to find her," Captain said softly and began to walk quickly through the halls.  "Heads down and eyes closed now."

The noise was awful beyond their bedchamber door, and it was very tempting to open his eyes to see just what was making all the crashing and clanging, and just how many people were there that couldn't stop shouting at each other, but Eluréd kept his word and pressed his face into the side of Captain's neck.  Captain's hold was very firm and very sure beneath his bottom, but Eluréd wrapped his arm around his neck anyway – only to find out that Elurín had done so already. 

The noises grew louder, and the shouting angrier, although now he could hear cries as if some of the grown Elves were in pain.  "Just a bit more," Captain whispered, having stopped for a moment.  "Do not look, children."

Eluréd began to shake.  Something was very wrong, and everyone in Menegroth was involved.  He wished he dared call out for his Nana, but Captain had told them that they had to be very quiet.  From the arm that lay beneath his around Captain's neck, he could tell his brother was just as frightened.

"Just where do you think you are going?" a very angry and unfamiliar voice demanded from behind them, and suddenly Eluréd could feel Captain falter.  His hold on him slipped so that only Eluréd's hold about his neck kept him from falling; but Elurín hadn't held on as tightly, because that arm beneath his slipped away.

"They are just…"  Captain's voice sounded very far away, very strange, and Eluréd couldn't resist the temptation to open his eyes and look at his Nana's old friend.  Captain's face was white, and his lips moved without sound; and suddenly there was red liquid bubbling from between Captain's lips, and he was falling.

Rough hands grabbed his arm and hurt him, and Eluréd cried out, a sound that he heard mirrored from a short distance away.  "Elurín!" he called and struggled.  He looked up into a very angry face that he'd never seen before.  "Elurín!"

The blow to his head came out of nowhere.  "Shut up, brat!  And shut that one up too, Barafaer."  Eluréd heard the sound of flesh striking flesh, and his brother's sudden, aborted call back to him.

Now that his eyes were open, Eluréd stared around him in shock.  Scattered about on the floor were people he had seen all his life, most of them in pools of dark red, with eyes that stared out at nothing.  On some, gaping wounds could be seen in necks and arms.  "Nana," he whimpered at the sight of one crumpled Elf that looked so very much…  Yes, that was the gown she had been wearing.  "Nana!" he called desperately and began to squirm against the iron hand that held him fast.

"Fire and shadows!  These are Dior's brats!" the angry one who held him growled.  "Slit their throats and be done with them."

"I do not care whose children they are," snapped another, "I do not spill the blood of the young and innocent."

"We need not do anything but let them go," drawled a third.  "Take them out into the forest, far enough that they cannot find their way back, and leave them there.  The cold of the storm and hunger will do for us what some of us are too good to do for ourselves." 

"These are the heirs of the one who slew our Lord!" the man who held him snarled, and Eluréd screamed when a heavy hand grabbed his hair and dragged his head back to put cold, sharp metal to his throat.

"Stop that!" a fourth voice ordered, and Eluréd sobbed as the painful tug on his hair went away, as did the blade at his throat.  "Urhador is right.  Take them out into the forest, bind their hands and feet, and leave them.  No matter what these others may have done, we do not spill the blood of innocents."

His hands were yanked behind him hard enough to make his shoulders scream, and he did too.  He tried to kick at anyone bending to bind his feet, only earning himself another heavy blow to the head that dazed him.  By the time he had cleared away the fog from his thoughts, he was unable to move.  He looked over and caught a glimpse of Elurín fighting back in much the same way, and flinched when a tall man in armor that had all kinds of splatters on it balled up his fist and slammed it into Elurín's chin.

"Get rid of them, and then hurry back.  That jewel has to be here somewhere, and I intend to find and present it to our Lords myself."

Eluréd was picked up and thrown over a shoulder roughly.  "I save that Morgoth's son's life, and what does he have me doing?" the man who carried him complained bitterly once they were outside the warm hallways of home.  "Hauling the trash out into the forest."

"Shut your face, Urvaeth," came a growl from not far away and a little behind.  "This is not trash we dispose of here.  These two are potential enemies who would stop at nothing to get revenge for what we did this day.  We protect our lives and that of the rest of our people."

"We had better find that jewel this time," Urvaeth grumbled, hefting Eluréd a little more securely over the shoulder and driving the air from his lungs in the process. 

Between the chill of the winter wind and the fact that Eluréd was more frightened than he had ever been in his life, he shivered and shook so hard that Urvaeth cuffed him again.  "Stay still, brat, or I can take the knife to your throat.  You choose."

Eluréd's mind brought back the sickly feel of the cold metal against his throat, and he forced himself to not shiver anymore than what he had no control over. 

Time seemed to crawl, and Eluréd had no idea how long it had been or how far they had been taken when suddenly Urvaeth stopped.  "That will do," he announced and hauled him off his shoulder and dumped him onto the hard ground.

"No further than this?" the man carrying Elurín asked tiredly.

"I do not know about you, but I do not intend to be away from the action any longer than absolutely necessary," Urvaeth snapped.  "If you want to carry them further out, you do it without my help."

Eluréd watched in horror as the tall man carrying Elurín shifted and dropped his brother like a sack of grain on the granary floor, and he heard a soft crack as his twin hit the ground, as well as the sharp cry of pain.  "Fine," the other man grumbled.  "This should be far enough out that there will be no chance of finding them before they meet their doom."  He slapped Urvaeth on the back.  "Let us return now, before our people leave us stranded out here."  The two warriors broke into an easy trot, heading back the way they had come.

He waited for a long moment, until he was fairly certain that the men were actually gone for good, and then he began to squirm through the fresh-fallen snow.  Normally, playing in the snow was something he enjoyed a great deal, but being tied hand and foot and nearly face-down in it was something entirely different.  "Elurín!" he called out desperately, "are you all right?"

"My arm hurts something terrible," Elurín was crying.  "Why did they do that to us?  What did we do?"

"I do not know," Eluréd said, trying not to think of seeing his mother so quiet, so still, on the floor of the hallway. 

"What are we going to do now?"

Eluréd rolled and tried to sit up, but couldn't quite do it.  "I do not know that either," he said, his fear growing inside him until he was trembling again. 

It was very cold; the wind pierced through suede and wool as if a knife through soft butter.  Soft, fluffy, wet snowflakes fell all around, covering the ground and filling the slight evidence of their arrival.  It wouldn't be long before there would be no indication which direction home lay in.

Aside from his brother's whimpers and sniffles, it was quiet.  There were no birds, for they had long since flown away to warmer lands, Ada said.  Ada!  The thought of his father, possibly lying on a floor like Nana was somewhere else in Menegroth, made Eluréd choke back a sob.

They were lost, they were helpless, and he didn't have the vaguest idea of what to do next.  So Eluréd did the only thing he could.

He squirmed and wriggled until he had brought himself as close to his brother as he could, and then he began to weep.

Chapter 2 -  Discoveries in the Snow

Narthan stepped carefully through the undergrowth, his eyes and ears as open as he could make them.  While the winter had not been a harsh one, the snowfall the night before now made hunting difficult, for hauling a carcass home through drifts was not a task he looked forward to.  And the deer had been scarce close to home, which was why he had ventured into this part of the forest.  Unless the rumors of new settlement in Menegroth were true, however, this area had remained untouched since the lifting of Melían's protection years before. 

Still, it was his turn out and about, and he was not about to go back to the gathering of telain empty-handed.  He hadn't really wanted to wander quite so close to the underground city of Menegroth.  That place held bad memories for him – memories of naugrim, their battle axes keen and flashing, killing all whom they came upon in their quest for that accursed Nauglamír. 

He, his wife Galenas, and twenty other survivors of that massacre had left to find new and less hazardous lives as soon as the chaos subsided.  They had not followed Oropher into the far east, although they had discussed the matter at great length at the time.  Instead, they had but removed to the eastern sector, not far from the River Aros, to enjoy the protection of the trees and the luxury of plentiful, clean water.  Normally, game was plentiful there, but not so much this winter, for some reason.

There had been smoke, starting late the day before, hanging over the trees that surrounded the hill beneath which the Thousand Halls meandered.  And now, he was close enough that he could smell it, acrid and nasty.  Any game that might have been in the area would have no doubt fled the possibility of fire.  He took the arrow he'd been carrying around nocked and shoved it over his shoulder, back into the quiver, and slipped the bowstring over his head.  He should have headed in the other direction after all, onto the plains beyond the river.  If nothing else, he could have speared enough fish to feed them until Lathron had finished his turn as provider.

Something large flew extremely close to his ear, and then landed on a branch of a tree.  He blinked in surprise at seeing a huge white owl, which normally stayed far away from any hunters.  The raptor ruffled its feathers at him, and then leapt into the air again, circled his head and then flew in the direction of the smoke.  When Narthan shrugged and turned his steps back in the direction of the river, he found himself once more brushed by white wings.  The owl circled, closer to him this time, and then flew once more in the direction of the smoke.  It landed on a branch a little further in that direction and again ruffled its feathers.

He frowned, frustrated by his own lack of sensitivity to the beasts and trees of the forest.  Perhaps it was the Ódhellen blood of his father, but he'd never been able to commune with the deer or the birds, much less hear the voices of the trees, half as well as some of his companions at the settlement.  Now, it seemed, the birds – or at least this one – were going to make certain he came to understand.

With no game to be found, and faced with a long walk back past the settlement to the river, he decided to humor the persistent owl.  He turned and walked back toward it and stopped a few paces from the tree where it waited for him.  The owl silently spread its wings and flew a little further along, then swung back in a lazy loop, very much like an adult trying to get a child to follow them.  "I am coming," Narthan murmured under his breath and kept moving.

Suddenly he stopped as his ears caught a tiny sound that didn't normally belong to a snow-covered forest.  He stood motionless, waiting, until…  There it was again!  What was it?

Watching every step now, as the ground in this area of the forest was rugged and uneven, he followed the sounds, which came at him in irregular intervals.  They sounded like snuffling, but small, almost stifled.  The white owl found a perch in an old oak tree, and this time didn't fly away as Narthan came close.  Instead, he heard another sound that he hadn't expected: the yipping of a small fox.  The owl fluttered its feathers again, looking in the direction of the fox's voice, and then back at Narthan again.

By now, he was learning to read the owl's intent, and moved in the direction of the yipping.  He knew he was getting closer, but had no idea how close when he stepped around the base of a big, old oak tree and nearly tripped on something beneath the snow that was soft - and let out another snuffling sound at the contact.  A small fox growled at him from a pace away, then whined.

He frowned at the idea of a fox and an owl, working together in this way, and he still couldn't distinguish what he had found, as the blanket of snow from the night before was obscuring everything.  He bent to begin to brush away the snow; and then he dug faster, more desperately, when he uncovered what looked like dark hair.  When he uncovered most of the mound, he straightened, utterly shocked and appalled.

Two children lay there, huddled close together.  They could have been no more than nine or ten and had their cloaks pulled over them as much as possible.  From the dark hair and the similar cant to the eyebrows, they had to be siblings at least.  The sounds he had heard were one child's shiver and the other's gasp for breath.  They were both alive, but their skin had a bluish tint that suggested that the cold was well on its way to rectifying that error. 

Narthan glanced around, suddenly very confused.  There was no reason for two small children to be out here, in the snowy wilderness, all alone.  Who were they?  Where had they come from?  Where were their parents?  He looked up, his eyes narrowing as he caught yet another whiff of the acrid smoke.  Perhaps the rumors that Lúthien's son had taken up the throne in Menegroth had been correct after all; but would the naugrim have been desperate enough to make another try for the Nauglamír in the dead of winter?

One thing was for certain, he couldn't leave the children where they were.  To do so would be to sentence them to death.  He crouched down and shook the shoulders of the child closest to him, hoping to at least rouse the child a bit.  All that happened was that the child shuddered and tried to move closer to the other, but the movement was odd, clumsy.  Frowning, he lifted aside the cloak and had to bite back a gasp of dismay.

These children were bound!  Their hands were tied behind them – and Narthan knew enough to recognize warrior's knots when he saw them.  He bent and finished brushing the layer of snow from them and found their ankles bound as well.  Someone had not only deliberately brought them out into the cold, but tied them up so that they couldn't escape their fate.

This was to have been murder – a bloodless, heartless and cruel death that could be blamed on the elements and the weather when found out!

Narthan quickly untied the children, noting that their fingers had lost all color.  Then he crouched and stared, not exactly certain how he was going to manage two children all by himself.  He had to get them to safety - to somewhere that he would feel secure in building a fire that would begin to warm them again.  It was too close to the cursed caves – too close to whatever had happened in that subterranean labyrinth – to do anything like that here.

Picking two limp and virtually lifeless bodies up off the ground took coordination and persistence, because the last thing Narthan wanted to do was drop one of them and cause them injury.  As it was, a quick check had demonstrated that one child already had a broken arm.  Still he kept at it from a crouch until he carried a child in each arm, balanced very delicately so that heads lolled on his shoulders as if deeply asleep. 

When he finally rose to his full height, he found himself face to face with the white owl, which had flown to a branch not quite overhead.  "I have them," he told the raptor with all seriousness, "and I will care for them.  Worry not."  He thought for a moment.  "And thank you, my friend."

With that, the owl ruffled its feathers one last time and, with a few strong flaps of great wings, flew away.  At his feet, the little fox gave one more yip and then vanished into the undergrowth that formed brambles just a few paces away.  Narthan shook his head, refusing to contemplate the implications of the assistance he had received, then hefted each child up a little more securely in his arms and began the eastward trek.

He walked as briskly as he dared for hours, stopping only long enough to reassure himself that both children still lived before trudging onwards.  He had hunted these hills often enough, so his steps were sure once he had regained more even ground.  He was taking them to his home, to Galenas; it was the only thing that he could think of to do.  His fellow hunter, Lathron, would have to go out hunting, or the both of them would hunt together once he had the children safely up in a talan, where they could be warmed and nursed back to health.

As it was, the sun was nearly gone from the western sky when he began to see the familiar landmarks that surrounded the settlement.  He raised his voice in song, hoping to be able to shift the weight of at least one soon, for his arms felt as if they were ready to fall out of their sockets.  Quickly enough, a voice answered his song, and then a call.

"Here!  Make haste!"

Narthan felt a sweep of relief at the sight of first his wife, and then Lathron and others from the settlement, coming through the trees towards him.  "Narthan!  What?..."  Galenas stared at him, and then stared at the two children whom he knew seemed merely asleep.  "Who are they?"

"I have no idea, but we need to get them inside and warm, quickly!" he said, grimacing in pain as she lifted the nearest child to her into her arms without rousing it at all.  "They were covered with snow, and someone had bound them hand and foot so they could not escape."

"Give me your burden," Lathron was the next to reach him.  "You look as if you have nearly reached your limit, my friend."

Narthan followed his wife, groaning as muscles that had nearly frozen in place from the need to keep them steady and secure for so many hours in the same position now had permission to move again.  He would be sore in the morning from his efforts, very sore indeed!

He answered the questions flying at him as best he could: no, they hadn't awakened at all; no, he had no idea who they were, although he had been close enough to Menegroth that they could very well have come from there; no, he really didn't know if they were girls, boys, or one of each; no, he really hadn't thought what he would do with them once they recovered; no, he hadn't managed to get any meat before he stumbled on them; and yes, he already knew he would have to go out again later.  He pumped his arms slowly over and over again to awaken the muscles again as he climbed the spiral stairs to the talan he shared with his wife, and flexed his fingers.

"The clothing they are wearing is rich," Galenas said as she deposited the little one in her arms on the bed she shared with him and divested the first child of a wet cloak.  "How long do you think they had been out there?"

Narthan shrugged.  "They were completely covered with snow," he remembered, "so probably for the better part of the night before.  It stopped snowing just a little before dawn, remember?"

The child on the bed whimpered and reached out, as if searching.  Lathron arrived and put his burden down next to the first and the three adults were amazed to see the two nestle and snuggle together.  It was as if they knew where the other was, even while insensate.  "Their faces are very similar," Lathron observed, fingering back dark hair that had fallen and obstructed the face of the child he'd borne.  "Siblings, definitely."

"That was my thought as well," Narthan agreed tiredly.

"We must get them warm," Galenas declared and pointed to the metal hearth-fire pan not far away.  "Narthan, build up the fire.  Lathron, if you would, we will need more wood."  She busied herself with removing the other child's cloak and then carefully spreading Narthan's recently discarded cloak over both children, followed by a warm fleeced throw and then another blanket.  "They probably are still alive because they stayed so close together."  She gifted her husband with a quick and admiring look.  "They were very lucky that you discovered them."

"I was led to them," he admitted with a shake of his head.  "A white owl would not cease flying past my head and brushing me with its wings until I followed.  A fox guarded the two and led me directly to them, once I was close enough."

Lathron stood back, his arms crossed over his chest.  "I shall take your turn at hunting, then," he said, seeming to come to a decision.  "You and your lady will have your hands very full when these two awaken, I would wager."

"I appreciate that," Narthan smiled and gave his friend a grateful grasp of arms.  "With any luck, we will know where these little ones are from and to whom we must return them by the time you return."

Galenas waited until the talan only held the two of them and their unconscious charges, and then she nodded.  "They need more warmth, my husband.  You should take off your outer clothes and lie down between them to hold them close, so that they can each take advantage of your body heat.  I will make you tea, to help you have enough heat to give them."

"Can we not get them to swallow warmed tea themselves?" Narthan asked, startled.

She shook her head.  "I wouldn't want them to choke.  This will be better, and we will start giving them warm food the moment they awaken enough to take it in."  She pointed.  "Trust me.  This is the best and quickest way to help these children."

Narthan blinked, shrugged, and then began to remove his warm outer clothing. 

Chapter 3 - Strangers

Eluréd was warm, when he had thought he would never be warm again.  And there was the smell of something good in his nostrils that made his mouth want to water.  As his senses slowly awakened, he could tell that whatever he was lying on was soft and warm, rather than the cold ground that he remembered last.

Elurín!  Where was his brother? 

Frightened and desperate, he forced himself to wake up more, to actually stir and reach out.

"That is good, little one.  Come now, wake up."

He froze; the voice, although it sounded much kinder than that of either of the men who had carried them out into the snow, was that of a stranger.  Where was he?  Who was this person he was with now?  And most importantly, where was Elurín?

A gentle touch smoothed over his head.  "You are safe now, little one.  The ones who tied you hand and foot have long gone, and they will not find you here.  And see?  Your brother sleeps close by.  Open your eyes, and see that it is so."

Elurín!  Eluréd stirred, finding it hard to make his eyes open or his body move, but finally managing the former.  And there, just on the other side of a broad chest covered with a thin, linen shirt topped by a number of blankets, lay Elurín, apparently fast asleep.  Slowly Eluréd's hand moved to capture that of his twin's, and then, at last, he twisted his head to look up into the face of the one beside him.

It was a friendly face, with grey eyes filled with reassurance, so very different from the faces of Urvaeth and the others who had come into his home, killed – killed! – Nana and Captain and probably Ada too.  The memories of the crumpled bodies and stench of something nasty, and the aches of where he'd been hit on the head and held so cruelly by the upper arm, were overwhelming. 

His eyes darted back to his brother, willing him – attempting to force him – to awaken too, so that he wouldn't be alone facing these… these…  strangers.  Strangers did horrible things, strangers hurt.

"There you are," the stranger said, his accent gentle and familiar.  It was the first thing that had sounded right, Eluréd suddenly realized, for the strangers that had hurt him and the others had sounded… different somehow.  "Can you tell me your name, young one?"

Eluréd shuddered.  If this stranger knew who he was, would he want to hurt him then?  He shuddered again, closed his eyes and tried not to cry.  He wanted his Nana and Ada, and he wanted Elurín to wake up.  He didn't like being all alone, with a stranger pressed close and between him and his brother. 

But the tears wouldn't stop.

"It is all right to cry, child," the gentle voice continued to soothe.  "You have been through something horrible, I am certain.  But it is over now, I give you my oath.  You are safe, and I will allow none to harm you, for as long as I live."

Eluréd blinked his eyes open at that to stare at this stranger.  Don't make promises like that, he wanted to shout.  They will come, if they know we are alive, and they will do to you as they did to Nana…

Nana!

A small sob escaped before he could silence it, and then another.  I want my Nana! 

A large hand swept up from behind and beneath him to hold him just a little closer to the stranger, whose head bent and whispered soft words of comfort that did little to fill the huge empty spot where Nana and Ada and even Captain had once been.  

"Are they awake at last?"  That was a woman's voice, but still Eluréd flinched at the unexpected sound.

"One of them," the stranger hold him replied in the same, soft whispering voice.  "And sore afraid."

"That is not surprising."  Eluréd could hear the sound of fabric, and the brush of footsteps against a wooden floor.  He cringed as something touched his back, not intending to huddle closer to the stranger but having nowhere else to go to get away.  "Imagine being taken from your home, tied up like a deer for the spit and left alone and helpless.  And now he wakes up to people he's never met.  He probably does not know what to think or expect."

Whoever this woman was, she understood him well enough, Eluréd decided.  He still wasn't happy, however, when that woman sat down on the edge of the mattress, trapping him.  His body finally began to respond to him, and he began to squirm to try to get loose – to get to Elurín.

"Let him go, Narthan," the woman said quietly.  "He is frightened and wishes to be near his brother."

The man – Narthan? – held still and didn't restrain him at all as Eluréd struggled to climb over him, and then actually scooted closer to the woman so that he could have more room with his brother.  Eluréd pulled Elurín away from the man and close to him, and then stared at the two strangers.  What would they do to them now?

"Be a little careful with your brother, child," the woman said, her voice going softer.  "He has a broken arm that I have just splinted."

Eluréd looked down.  Sure enough, there were two thin and well-sanded pieces of wood tied to his brother's left forearm.  When he looked back up at the woman, he felt a funny mix of fear and gratitude.

"Are you hungry?' she asked him then. 

He flinched back, away from her.  He wasn't leaving his brother again!

"No, no," she soothed, a hand held out as if to touch him, which she withdrew when he pulled as far back away from it as he could.  "You do not have to leave your brother.  I can see staying with him is important to you, is it not?"

Eluréd just looked at her.  What could he say?  He had been told to be silent, and the side of his head still ached some from where he'd been hit for not doing as he'd been told.  His stomach answered for him instead by growling.

The woman smiled.  "I will take that as a yes," she said in a very matter-of-fact way that sounded all too much like Nana.  He was glad that she had gotten up and turned away, so that she didn't see the tears, or him wiping them away quickly.  He had heard the bigger boys at home teasing one of their friends that "big boys do not cry like babies;" and he was no baby.  But it was just so hard not to…

His gaze flicked to the man – Narthan – who continued to watch his every move.  "I will say nothing," the man whispered very softly, as if he could tell what Eluréd was thinking.

Eluréd shuddered and held tightly to Elurín's limp body as it lay so still, his brother's head still pillowed on Narthan's arm.  This was wrong!  It was all a bad dream – it had to be!  He would wake up soon, and he would be home, in their room with the window that looked out over the hillside sloping away, and Nana would come in and give him a hug… 

Perhaps if he closed his eyes, maybe he could get back to sleep again so that he could wake up in the right place.  He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead hard into his brother's shoulder, trying with all his heart to fall asleep and make these strangers go away. 

Then a delicious smell came close, making his stomach grumble more loudly and bringing his eyes open again.  It hadn't worked; he was still in this strange place – it looked to be up in a tree, of all things! – with the strange people.  And the strange woman was back, with a small wooden bowl with steam rising from it that smelled… 

"Here," she said, holding the bowl out to him.  "This will do you good." 

Whatever it was, it had nuts and berries mixed with strange, brown nuggets, and at the edges lay a little bit of milk.  Eluréd looked back up at the woman, wondering if he truly dared to trust her, only to have his stomach announce its opinion loudly again.  The woman's smile grew bigger when he carefully reached out and took the bowl from her. 

He took a tiny, cautious taste; it was good.  

oOoOo  

"Have they told you anything yet?" 

Galenas shook her head and looked over her shoulder at the two boys.  Physically, they had recovered as much as possible, except for the broken arm on the one.  Emotionally, however… 

"Not a word," she told Gwirith, Lathron's wife.  "I am not certain they trust us enough to speak to us yet." 

"Poor mites!  One can only imagine what they have been through." 

Galenas nodded and turned back to stirring the heavy pot of venison stew that would be disbursed throughout the settlement when done later that day.  "One day, perhaps, they will tell us – if they can.  Until then, all any of us can do is to let them discover they are safe here." 

It had taken days to convince them to climb down the spiral stairs to join with the rest of the settlement during the day.  The child who had been the least injured acted very much the protector of the other, and fought being separated from his brother for more than a moment or two.  She was fairly certain the boy had even forced himself to withhold his bodily excretions to coincide with his brother's needs, just so that they could remain together on the trips down the stairs and into the forest. 

Not a word had either of them spoken, not to give a name nor explain anything.  If pressed, both would end up with expressions filled with such horror and sadness that she didn't have the heart to push anymore.  She thought, once or twice, she had heard very soft whisperings coming from the single bed that Narthan had quickly pieced together for them, in which they lay with arms wrapped tightly around each other. 

And now, even though they had joined with the rest of the settlement, they sat huddled together in an out of the way corner where they could observe the activity around them without being obvious.  When approached by other settlement children, both would tuck their heads together and turn inwards toward each other, obviously rejecting any and all gestures of inclusion. 

She watched Narthan descend from the talan, having changed from his hunting suedes into warmer leather.  Her husband had been quite loath to leave the boys with her to go hunting with Lathron, and he'd returned just in time to enjoy what little warmth was left in the wash basin from morning ablutions.  He caught her glance and smiled at her, then let his smile widen and walked across the clearing to where the two little ones sat together on a single stump. 

"Have either of you ever made snow ladies?" he asked lightly. 

Both boys were startled, and the one with the broken arm slowly shook his head.  Galenas put a hand to her mouth to keep from crying out in joy from the first direct – if non-verbal – response from either child to a question. 

"Well, it is not a winter without little boys making at least one snow lady!"  Narthan gave a casual beckoning wave.  "Come on, I will show you how to make them." 

She was so proud of him!  He took a few steps and then stood, patiently waiting to see whether his lure had worked; and there was a moment when the boys looked at each other and seemed to be communing with each other.  And then the braver, protective boy gave a small nod and got to his feet, followed immediately by his brother. 

Narthan put out both hands in invitation, and after another long moment of hesitation, the boys separated just enough that they each could take a hand.  With a grin of triumph spread across his face, Narthan looked back at her and then led the boys to the nearest snow drift.  When her tall husband lay down in the snow and began moving arms and legs, both boys' mouths dropped open, and then one looked at the other with tiniest hint of a smile. 

Galenas let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and turned back to stir the stew, her eyes not quite swimming.  Perhaps the boys would recover after all, to become normal children capable of laughter and joy rather than silent and wary guests incapable of anything but flinches and terrified looks in their eyes. 

Chapter 4 - News 

"It is said that the Elves of Dior Eluchíl have perished, and that Menegroth was left a charnel house," Morfer stated, bringing all conversation at the communal table to a halt.

"Dior - vanquished?"  Narthan gaped.  "How?  When?"

The trader shook his head.  "I have heard many stories.  Beren and Lúthien are no more, and sent the Nauglamír to Dior.  But word of the demise of Beren and Lúthien also reached the sons of Fëanor, who demanded the return of the jewel of their father's skill.  Dior refused.  A little more than a year ago, the sons of Fëanor came to convince him otherwise."

"Another Kinslaying!"  The whispers sped around the table.

Elurín turned his head sharply and stared at Eluréd, who stared back at him with huge eyes.  The snows had come and gone again since they had been taken in by the Elf who had rescued them and his wife.  As it was, it took weeks before either of them could trust or finally feel secure in Narthan's and Galenas' care.  Not once since they had been found had they mentioned Menegroth, or their Ada or Nana; nor had they even given their names.  Eventually, new names had been gifted to them: he, Elurín, had become Maenor; while Eluréd had become Thenidor.  They had started calling Narthan "Ada" and Galenas "Nana" just a few weeks ago, agreeing between them that it would be better that any who might find them think that they belonged to the settlement and nowhere else. 

Narthan had dark hair and grey eyes, and even Lathron remarked that Elurín and his brother looked enough like their new Ada that it could be believed that they had always been related. 

Thankfully, nobody seemed eager to either remember or mention the circumstances of their coming or turn to stare at them; still, Elurín could feel his brother shifting nervously next to him.  Eluréd had always been the protector of the two of them, and Elurín put a hidden hand on his brother's knee to calm him.  Better nobody make that particular connection because of his nerves!

"It is also said that one of the sons of Fëanor wanders the woods surrounding Menegroth now, searching for Dior's lost sons, abandoned and possibly slain by warriors loyal to Celegorm after the battle," Morfer continued.

"I have seen him," Narthan nodded solemnly, making Elurín look up into the face of the man sitting next to him with alarm.  "Tall, with hair the color of flame and with only one hand.  I spoke with him when I came upon him during one of my hunts not long ago."

Elurín shuddered, and felt a similar shaking in his brother.  So the ones who did those horrible things to Nana and Captain were still looking for them! 

"He asked me if I had seen two small ones, and I told him I have seen nothing, not even remains.  He thanked me, begged me to send word immediately should I come upon anything that might restore the children to him, and walked off into the deeper forest to continue his search."

"The troubles of this land have not ceased, even though Elu is in Mandos and Melian has returned to Valinor," Torveren announced from farther down the community table.  "I have been considering heading south and east, perhaps in the footsteps of Oropher and his band."

"Leave?"  Again the murmur sped around the table.

Torveren took a long draught of his juice and then thudded the mug down onto the table.  "Is it not plain?  We are not safe here any longer.  The protection Melian gave us from the Enemy to the north is gone.  The sons of Fëanor walk into heavily protected halls and massacre those who dwell there.  We live on the very fringes of disaster!  We should not even think of staying, lest the fate of those in Menegroth become our own!"

"We should table this discussion until there are no little ones around to terrify with words that bring ill dreams," Galenas suggested sharply, and Elurín could see that his foster-Nana had noted the disquiet he and his brother felt and had wrapped her arm about Eluréd's shoulder.  "Morfer, tell us other tidings, happier tales, of those whom you have visited with your wares."

Elurín slumped, all appetite for the baked fish and herbed baked tubers that he normally loved had completely evaporated.  "Ada," he said quietly, drawing his foster-father's attention, "I'm not hungry anymore.  May I be excused?"  Beside him, he felt Eluréd stiffen.

"Of course.  I shall make you some tea."  Narthan answered gently.  "Thenidor, you stay here, with your Nana.  I shall return shortly."

Eluréd nodded and leaned gratefully into Galenas' embrace while Elurín felt Narthan's hand on his shoulder as they walked toward the spiral stairs that led up to their talan.  "I am behind you," Narthan soothed, letting him go first. 

He waited, not entirely certain what to expect when Narthan faced him once more.  Did his foster-father know everything now?  What would he do?  He could feel what he had eaten before roiling like a hard lump in his stomach.   

Elurín's eyes widened in surprise when Narthan knelt in front of him and took both of his hands.  "I did not then, and I will not ever, give you and your brother away – most especially not to Kinslayers, no matter how high or noble otherwise.  The children that man was seeking no longer exist.  I know you have names from that place that your real Ada and Nana gave to you, but I do not want to know them any longer.  You are Maenor, and your brother is Thenidor, and you are my sons now, do you understand?"  He put a comforting hand to Elurín's face.  "None will ever hear – from my lips or your Nana's – anything different.  I swear it." 

Elurín nodded slowly and stepped forward to put his arms around Narthan's neck.  This man's embraces made him feel almost as safe as Ada's had.  Even now, with the snows nearly gone again, he looked forward to his first lessons with the wooden swords, so that he could defend the settlement with the others in time.  Never had Narthan promised anything that he did not do. 

"Are we going to stay here?" he asked in a small voice.  Narthan might promise safety, but Torveren, the smithy, spoke truth.   

"Your Nana and I will discuss this, and then we will discuss it as a family," Narthan told him after a pause.  "Do you wish to stay?" 

Elurín shook his head vigorously.  He didn't want to be found, ever. 

"Then when Nana and I speak, I will mention your wishes to her.  Do you think your brother feels the same?" 

"I know that he does."  Elurín had no question about that.   

Narthan gently set Elurín away from him.  "Then I will mention that as well.  Go now, and I shall make a tea to help you rest." 

Elurín watched the man move to the side of the firepan and stir the embers.  "Ada?" 

"Yes, my son?"   

How could he put into words everything that was in his heart?  "Thank you."  It wasn't enough - it would never be enough - but it was the best he could do. 

Narthan smiled.  "You are most welcome." 

oOoOo 

Maedhros used the side of his foot to push dirt into the center of the circle of stones that had been his campfire of late, smothering any remaining embers, and then gazed up at the canopy of fresh green leaves over his head in defeat.  A whole year had passed while he searched every nook and corner of these woods, hoping beyond hope that he would at the very least find something that would tell him of the fate of two small, innocent boys caught up in something they had no way of understanding.  A whole year since he had banished two of Celegorm's captains, Urvaeth and Cuvron, from his sight for their part in the shedding of innocent, noble blood.  And what did he have to show for it?

He sighed and gazed across the small clearing, where Maglor stood adjusting the packs that held his gear over the withers of his stallion, Maglor's own gear already settled on his gelding.  Maglor was tired too, even though he had only been in attendance on this hopeless quest for three days.  Maedhros should have known, when Maglor appeared at his campfire, that his yearlong search had come to an end. 

They would go back to Himring, to his stronghold there, and try to pull together a people that had seen too much, done too much, to be truly happy any longer.  Celegorm's desperate ploy had failed, and the Silmaril remained lost to them.  Morgoth, in the north, only grew stronger.  No matter where he looked, Maedhros could only see darkness, both ahead as well as behind him.

Another deep sigh, and he was walking briskly over to the horses.  Maglor nodded and leapt gracefully onto the back of his stallion.  "Ready?"

Maedhros nodded silently and swung up onto his gelding.  Side by side they road toward the rising sun, heading north at the same time.

In the mid-morning, Maedhros held up the ruin of his right hand and brought his mount to a halt.  As Maglor's mount pranced impatiently to a stop as well, Maedhros could finally hear more clearly the sound of Elven singing.  He exchanged a sharp glance with his brother, and wheeled his gelding to head for the nearest rise.

From there, it was easy to see them.  There were about twenty adults, and nearly half a dozen children, and they were moving east as well, only in a southerly direction.  For a moment, Maedhros' eyes rested on two children, dark-haired, gamboling next to a man who looked vaguely familiar.  Oh yes, he had met this man several weeks earlier.  He'd been hunting, and no, he'd had no news of any children to be found in the woods.  Maedhros' eyes narrowed.  Those two… they looked old enough to be…

The man leaned down and swung one child up, nearly to his shoulders, laughing as he did.  The other child reached and stretched, and the young voice carried on the wind, "Me too, Ada!  Me too!"

Maedhros slumped and looked back at his brother.  No, those could not be Dior's sons.  No young prince of the line of Elu Thingol would be calling a simple woodsman "Ada."

"Come on," he grumbled.  "I have wasted enough time here.  It is time to go home, and leave these Sindar to their forest."

Maglor nodded, a wry look shadowing his face.  "I know you wished to find them," he soothed, "and I am sorry you had no luck in your search.  But I am also glad that you know when to end a futile endeavor."

"We will ever be known as their slayers as well, you know, no matter that neither of us had any hand in their fate," Maedhros sighed.  "I would have seen them returned to what is left of their people instead."

"Those who know will remember that you searched long for them," Maglor replied, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder.  "And those guilty of this foul deed will never serve at our side again."

"It is not enough, but it will have to do."  Maedhros' voice was resigned.  "Let us go home, little brother."

With that, the two wheeled their horses again and galloped off down the rise, heading to the east and north, where they would be far from wherever the simple Sindar below were heading.

oOoOo

The sound of a horse's neigh in the distance brought Narthan's head up sharply.  He quickly lowered Thenidor to the ground and turned about, searching for the source of the sound. 

There they were!  On a ridge to the north were two riders, and Narthan shuddered to see that one had hair the color of fire, while the other was dark.  He glanced around, wishing now that his people had not retained the tradition of singing while traveling, but it was too late.  If the flame-haired one had seen Maenor and Thenidor…

But no!  He looked back and saw that the riders had turned away to ride down the side of the rise away from them, and quickly vanished from sight.  Narthan let loose the breath he'd been holding to keep from calling out an alarm.  They were safe!  No one would ever challenge him for the two he now considered his sons, ripping his heart out in the process.  His family would stay together now, complete.

He pasted a wide smile on his face and gathered one boy beneath each of his arms and once more joined his voice to that of the others.  Galenas moved forward and added her arm to his over Thenidor's shoulder, and together they sang of the green wood, the summer wind, and freedom as they made their way south and east to safer lands.

FIN