Chapter Text
Maedhros had recognised them, but Maglor had sung them to sleep.
How had they come to this? An oath drowned in blood and doom. Sealed by the fire of their father’s last words. Driven by a fate none of them understood nor wanted when they swore it.
All but one of them lost to it. He had found Amrod and Amras, huddled together even in death.
There were only two now. He knew not of the fate of his single nephew. Only that he was not here.
The smoke caught his attention. No one was here. Their men were gone, the survivors fled. Only he and Maglor remained. They had both felt it. Something beyond an oath. The Silmaril was gone. The princess literally flew away with it. Nothing was left.
Nothing!
Save for these two sleeping elflings. Why did he see hope in their faces? Why did he see an end to things if only they survived.
He knew one thing. Morgoth could not have them.
“Take them!” he commanded Maglor.
“Your plans brother?” Maglor’s nerves were obvious.
“We will make them hostages, should Elwing return. But I shall bury them here, lest Morgoth come.”
Maglor still seemed unsure. Maedhros softened a moment. Too many years weighed heavily on him.
“Love them.”
Maglor smiled then. A strange sight with his face covered in blood.
“Wash yourself and protect them. I will join you on the road.”
His last words went unsaid. Protect them, even from himself.