The Wizarding Prince of Twilight

Chapter 21

Parenting, Struggles, and Self Admission Part 2

If one could look back on their life and recall a significant event; what would it be?

The birth of your siblings? 

The first time you sang your first verse?

The day you married the love of your life? 

The moment you succeeded in achieving a goal many thought impossible?

Many would answer yes,.......

.....but not him.

Not the eldar that now gazed up into the sky where a once sick canopy had shrouded the light of the stars from a people that still basked in its light. Not the elf that breathed the now clean air of a vibrant forest that only moments ago laid sick with the decay of Morgoth's poison. Not the father that had just seen the child he loved as his own perform a miracle not even the first elves born of Cuiviénen could have hoped to argue its splendor. 

No memory 

No lore

No song

No words

Nothing would do justice to the events played out this night. 

Maglor Fëanorian had seen a miracle. 

Beneath the luminous stars that would soon give way to the dawning twilight stood the Bard of the Ñoldor. Within the Valley of star-dusk stood an elf that stared up into the starry night with eyes of kindred color. Though twas not the light of Varda's stars that drew his gaze.

Nay

From where he kneeled, the second son of Fëanor's blue-grey orbs remained transfixed upon the soaring apparition of pure white. The being that brought forth a beauty like no other. A child and young elf that had sung a song of power so heart-wrenching it would no doubt play guest to his mind for decades to come. Sadly, his elven sight could only do so much, as the par-maia child and his retinue of shining embodiments soon flew too far for his gaze to follow.

Gone beyond hope of pursuit, a weight of ominous foreboding fell upon him like a shroud. Tears fell as his hands clutched the grass in a vain attempt to make sense of any of the events he'd just bore witness. 

What did I just see..

Hair brighter than a star. 

Eyes green and lit as dew dropped grass fields in the summer sun. 

Body a glow with a power he didn't dare conceive. 

He was trying to save someone. 

What were those lights?

Why did my heart fill with happiness of times long past?

That doe....she felt like Amme....how?

Lómion....who were you? 

What life did you live that you would go so far? 

Among all these tumultuous thoughts now swirling like a typhoon. Maglor could not help but ponder on the repercussions to come from the events of this night. He was certainly no fool to think Lómion's actions would come with no cost.

No matter how little he understood. 

That boy was crying. 

There was so much longing in him. 

Longing mixed with fathomless joy. 

Yet still the threads of regret tugged within our bond. 

It was echoing like screams howled from the deepest of caves. 

I know he did something he shouldn't have. 

But what??

Why?

Why am I so helpless to stop him?

Why can't I stop anyone from casting undue pain upon themselves. 

The guilt would only still when Maglor's ears heard something he couldn't have thought feasible. While he knew his gifts were paltry when faced with those of the ainur. Maglor was still a firstborn that had been granted the gift of hearing Arda's song; even if the notes permitted to him were mere whispers of a grand orchestra. When put forth enough effort, Kanafinwë Makalaurë could tune into the song of Eä, and perceive the power that lie within.

But there in laid the problem. 

From where he lay in the star-dusk forest, another firmly held belief chose to shatter itself. As clear as fallen leaves blowing through the trees. The voice of Eä's song came unbidden, but before he could make out any words the world around him stilled. The air had gone cold; so haunting and chilling was it that one would perceive themselves lost in a lifeless sea. He dared not fight the silence threatening to drown him as the whispers of ominous notes met his ears. 

......song....

?

......lost....

What?

......returned...

Returned?

....wrong......m.....right....

...heal..

...west...

What have you done....

....heal...change.....

....be....un...

What did you do???

Lómion, what did you do??!

The world around him darkened and his vision faded to black. The silence around him grew ominous and frightening. He almost couldn't feel the grass beneath him anymore. His breath hitched in his throat as his body went still as stone. It was like a cord had snapped and the drums of doom were gearing up to for their imminent crescendo. 

He listened to the song. 

He listened, and before he could hear no more....

.....he heard a voice. 

A voice that spoke with such finality Maglor felt a weight like no other crash down upon his very being. 

The song has changed. 

It has begun. 

Maglor's whole body seized. 

He gasped for air as his muscles trembled and spasmed with violent tremors. 

The song has changed?

Changed how?

Begun??

What's begun? 

What...what does any of this mean? 

He was only saved from a complete meltdown when Celegorm grabbed his arm and pulled him from where he lay hunched over on the ground. "Kano, Kano get it together! We have to go. We can't stay here" said his brother with an urgency Maglor hardly ever saw from his steadfast younger sibling. 

He's right, we're too close to Doriath.

If we're found...

The world deigned to prove his worries true, for in the quiet of the once dead forest. Life that had long ago ruled this ancient land, roared with a cadence of dissonance and displeasure. 

The trees groaned.

The branches creaked.

The roots rose.

The wind howled, and the earth quaked. 

The sentience once lost had now returned, and the slumbering woods began to awake. Yet no songs of rejoice rang through the forest. Nay, the rumblings of anger filled the night as the aura of resentful malice made itself known. The fury of Nan-Elmoth resonated through the ground as the forest made ready to defend itself. 

The trees hostility sparked a wave of urgency through him and his company. For they had now discerned the reason behind the forests behavior. 

They weren't the only one's here anymore.

Or weren't about to be.

Maglor and his brother internally shuddered. 

Oh no.

Nan-Elmoth was known to be inhospitable to outsiders or those the trees deemed a threat. Intruders the forest's former lord would have no doubt sought to evict should they approach without bestowed leave. Maglor dared not use his voice as he screamed in his brother's head. 

'Doriathrim!'

'The mirror! The mirror now!'

Maglor grabbed Tyelpe while Celegrom hauled Fingon as they sprinted for their means of escape. They ran for the mirror that lay innocently on the patch of grass it'd settled itself when they'd all crash landed into the forest that was once Maeglin's home. How it didn't break in the fall was anyone's guess, for right now he couldn't be bothered to care.

They had to get out. 

They had to leave before anyone saw them. 

We can't be seen. 

We can't, it'd be a disaster. 

They'd never let us just leave. 

Please, please great forest. 

Keep them back for just a little longer!

None argued as the remaining members of his party saw the desperation in Maglor's eyes. Finally they reached the mirror, and held onto it for dear life. With resolve akin to polished steel Maglor spoke the spell. 

I can't believe I'm doing this. 

Please let this work. 

"Portus"

They shot into the air. 

The forest around them disappeared as the air cracked around them. In the same manner they'd departed was how they would return. They were spinning so fast that their hair flew everywhere. It felt like an unseen gust was trying to shake them off. His little brother, cousin, and nephew had their jaws clenched so tight he doubted anything would pry them open. 

But just as soon as they'd been sent flying did they find themselves descending and once again crashing into the ground. They hit the forest floor with audible "thuds" and groans. Celegorm was especially unfortunate given he'd accidentally let go of the mirror at the last second and landed right on his back. Maglor luckily hadn't let go as he was deposited right on the ground. All the while barely dodging getting a mouth full of grass. 

Relief filled his lungs as the spinning finally ceased. 

Eru have mercy that I never have to do that again. 

Oh goodness I feel ill! 🤢

By whatever miracle, Maglor's stomach contents remained where they were. Sadly, Fingon wasn't so lucky as Maglor could hear his poor cousin throwing up nearby (Gross🫣).

....

Oh yuck.

Poor Fingon. 

None moved from their spots as everyone struggled to regain their bearings.Maglor dared to lift his head and had a hard time believing what he was seeing. For less than a league off from his sight lay the light of the torches from his keep. In the few beats it took for his own heart to finish a sprinted tune, he realized they'd all traveled from one part of Beleriand to the next. They'd been in Nan-Elmoth one moment and then here the next. Several leagues and possible weeks of travel now shortened to a mere night. 

He couldn't believe any of this. 

Unbelievable.

Tis inconceivable. 

No wonder he finds long travel times tedious (You ain't seen nothing...yet😏)

He thought no further as Celegorm finally pried himself from the ground and shakily trudged over to where Maglor lay sprawled. 

Blue-gray met silver as a cacophony of thoughts sprang across their bonds. Though only one would get voiced. 

"....I don't suppose you knew he could do that?" said Celegorm with a deadpan and almost pleading look. 

"Only if I knew what that even was" he said with a vacant tone. It almost sounded like he wasn't sure they were talking about the same topic. 

Topic being the operative word. 

Celegorm just snorted before he heaved a tired sigh. 

"I don't think it need even be said" said his younger brother as he ran a hand through his now messy hair. 

No, no it need not. 

Before this night was over, Maglor knew without a flicker of doubt, that nothing would be the same again. 

Not for him and possibly his whole house. 

However, what Maglor and his family could have never imagined was that the changes made to their fates that night....

.....was only the intro to the new symphony now laid before the children of Eä.

Including......

....the one that had been lost.

By the time Maglor had lugged himself, Celegorm, Fingon, and Tyelpe back to his keep. There was already a frenzied retinue waiting for them at the gate. 

Tarion and Erestor ran to him with expressions bearing a mix of worry, shock, and urgency.

Great...just great. 

I already know this night will be a long one (Such certainty 🤭)

"My lord, you're back! Where have you been? Where is the prince?" spoke his second in command with a worry he'd very rarely seen from the elf. 

Maglor pursed his lips as he gazed right at Tarion. 

Where do I even begin?

He decided to just be blunt. 

"Tarion, heed and follow the commands I now give as your lord"

Tarion and Erestor stilled as an unspoken message just clicked in both their heads. 

Expressions of concern dissipated as both their eyes bore into Maglor's with grave comprehension of what this sudden change in demeanor meant. 

Tarion did his due diligence. 

"I stand ready my lord" 

Oh how this is going to sound. 

"Inform all the hunters, scouts, guards, watchmen, healers, and even the general staff that should they see a flying white apparition they are explicitly FORBIDDEN from harming it" he said and wasn't surprised when his second's eyes grew huge. Poor elf looked like someone just kicked him from right under his feet. 

Tarion blinked before stammering to respond. 

"Wh-White apparition my lord?" 

"It's your prince" 

Instant understanding dawned upon his second as the elf swiftly nodded, bowed, and sprinted off to uphold his lord's commands. 

If there was any doubt of his maiaran heritage before, it'll be naught but dust on the wind now (Got that right😅). 

Erestor, who'd been left behind, now looked quite grim. The adviser's dark orbs stared into Maglor's with the intensity of a thunderstorm, as the elf sought proof of a silent confirmation Maglor dared not voice. 

Good thing too, because Maglor didn't give him a chance to ask questions. 

"Erestor, before this night is up I want all your spies and contacts at the ready. Be it songs, rumors, or even tales that sound too ludicrous to garner any credibility; I want to hear of all of it. I don't care who you pay off or by what means it be done; with every tool at your disposal ensure none of the information you learn can be traced back to us. It is of the direst import that-" he said with all the authority his position held before he leaned towards his friend's ear, and softly whispered "-no Doriathrim know that the events of this night were Lómion's doing." 

Erestor spoke naught a word as Maglor pulled away from his friend. 

The elf looked like a thousand thoughts were running through his head before a solid resolve settled itself. One that promised he would follow this request with every weapon in his arsenal. 

"As you command my lord; I shall see it done" spoke his friend before he ran off. 

Fail me not my friend, for now Maeglin's safety may very well rest in your hands. 

No matter what, we must forestall any information reaching Doriath. 

Maglor sighed. 

He rubbed his head in a vain attempt to stave off a headache before looking back to the remaining elves that had been his company and shared audience to the plethora of magic. 

Apparently they were all waiting for him to say something. 

Sure, leave my poor self to clean up the mess.

I recall you being older Findekáno. 

Why me🤦.

"My office after you've cleaned yourselves up." he said but quickly grabbed his younger brother's arm. Celegorm looked straight at his older brother before Maglor answered his unvoiced question. 

"If it be possible, have all the birds in our territories be on the lookout for any nightingales" he said with such severity Celegorm's eyes widened as he put together the meaning. 

It was only then, that the gravity of the situation truly dawned on Aredhel's friend as he quickly spoke through ósanwë.

'You really think Melian?'

'If she thinks it's a member of her kin that should not be here; then yes'

'I can't tell them to chase out the nightingales. That would be too obvious, and birds are not usually inclined to harming their kin unless they be their usual prey'

'No, but our hunters can. Worry not, I do not desire to kill the little things. Simply scare them off should they get too close. Huan should be more than helpful in that regard'

Celegorm smirked. 

'Indeed he would. I'll have them also keep an eye out for any whispers they hear among the Sindar. We can't let that Greycloak know a par-maia is here'

'Without Maeglin's leave; no we cannot'

Celegorm looked like he was about to leave before he paused. Maglor swore he felt a silent anger spark within his brother before the silver haired elf swiftly stifled it.

'....Kano. Do you think he'd actually hurt Lómion? I hold no favor for that selfish buzzard, but-'

Maglor didn't know how to reply to that. 

Well, he did; but he wasn't about to voice it to his most temperamental and rash sibling. 

He threw out his brother's grandchildren. 

Who are half Ñoldor; yet proceeds to state on multiple occasions how much he despises the Ñoldor (Hypocrite 🙄)

Said brother's grandchildren that took no part in the kinslaying, and if anything tried to stop it. Of course Artanis only arrived after it was over, and by that point all she could do was try to save the survivors. 

Then as if that isn't enough to garner a good degree of resentment.

Willfully, or possibly out of sheer ignorance, let his eldest son and heir be belittled by members of his own court (He didn't know🤦).

A prelude to treason if there ever was one. Eöl was their crown prince for Eru's sake! Haru Finwë shut up any that dared insult Atar. 

Luthien hasn't been named heir so look at the mess they've made for themselves! It's not secret Thingol thinks no one worthy of his daughter.

Finally he allows said council members to threaten other elves for the most petty reasons.

.....

Oh dear. 

Me thinks it would be wise to refrain from mentioning that last part to him (I wouldn't 🫣).

Actually...I think I shouldn't voice any of that. 

'Harm...probably not'

Celegorm arched a brow; a clear sign he didn't like that answer.

Good grief, he's truly gotten defensive of Lómion (Like you haven't🤨).

Maglor held up a hand and silenced Celegorm before he could say anything else. 

'However, try to summon him to Doraith and keep him there in a misguided attempt to protect him; most likely. Eöl clearly had concerns regarding his father's impulsive tendencies, and I am in no mood to start testing their waters'

That seemed to placate the hunter before an almost annoying smirk met Maglor's gaze. 

'Imagine how impulsive he'll be should he learn his only son married Aredhel in secret, got himself killed by our disowned fool of a cousin, and has a grandson that seems to fervently dislike him. Of course, don't misunderstand me. For I'd have killed Eöl too. Though at least I wouldn't have done it in front of a child like some kind of sick spectacle'

Maglor prayed to Eru for patience.

Of all the..

Breathe Makalaurë, breathe; deep calming breaths. 

Big brothers should not punch their little brothers in the face. Even when they say something really foolish (I mean Caranthir did😅).

How in the world he was related to someone so impetuous was beyond him. 

Where he got such a crude perosnality from; I'll never know (Míriel🤭).

'Just go and don't you dare ever speak such things in front of Lómion! Otherwise it'll be you who meets the blunt end of my harp'

Celegorm audibly snorted before taking his leave. 

Though before he did, the famed hunter of the Ñoldor just had to get in one more bite.

'I'll gladly take your harp over exploding hands and fireplaces any day dear older brother. Though if a day ever should come when Lómion meets Thingol. Please let me know, for I'll be the first to seek a front row seat to that chaos.'

Celegorm's unwelcome retort was met with a withering gaze so tumultuous it'd have scared off an orc. 

Of course that did nothing to faze Maglor's little brother as the curt elf merely shook his head with sarcastic fondness before making his way inside. 

Maglor didn't follow and remained in his spot outside the fortress.

He didn't move as he dared to look up at the sky. 

The first vestiges of dawn would be upon them within another few hours. Maglor only hoped that his son would not come to any harm between now, then, or after. Their bond could only do so much, but at the very least he could tell his son was alive; if not getting further away by the minute. 

Please, please pitya.

Come home safe.

Sadly Maglor's only comfort would be the small and very soft tinkling he felt on the other end of the bond. 

Not even an hour passed before his company let themselves in to his once sacred space. All parties hardly looking better than they did before. Though, at the very least they didn't look they'd gone sliding in the mud. 

Celegorm practically stormed in with Huan at his side.

Celebrimbor and Fingon following suit as they all reconvened back in Maglor's office. 

Said office that was once annihilated, but now looked pristine to the point it was almost mocking (Reparo🤭).

Especially when one considered the torrential storm they were undoubtedly about to face. 

Maglor didn't really wash so much as he cleaned his face with a wet cloth, and changed out of his nightclothes. He was far too jittery to worry about perfecting his hygiene given the situation. 

How embarrassing; I issued commands while looking like I just rolled out of bed (I mean you kinda did😅; well dragged.). 

Nobody sat down as Fingon, the ever fawning uncle, practically got in his face. 

"Have we heard anything? Can you sense anything?" spoke his cousin with sheer worry for their nephew. 

Maglor gave him a truly remorseful look "Nothing yet cousin. If anything I was hoping you had an inkling as to where he's gone" 

He was the first to form ósanwë with him. 

Fingon shook his head with a frustrated grunt "I can't connect to him. I tried when we returned, but it's like something is blocking me. It's either he's too far or too distracted to sense my attempts to reach him"

My guess is distracted (Among other things🥲). 

Maglor did not get a chance to reply as his cousin suddenly released a harsh gasp.

A telling sign that the crown prince just recalled something of significant import. 

Of course what he said next was something Maglor couldn't have imagined. 

"..I've seen it before" said his cousin in a broken whisper. 

.....It can't be.

"Wait, seen what? Him flying and lighting up like a star??" said Celegorm with evident frustration. 

"No, not that! His...that appearance. The hair; his eyes. I saw it in a dream. I was seeing visions of him in dreams before we met, but in those dreams there was a time he bore that appearance" spoke his cousin with a weariness and unease not often seen from their uncle's eldest. 

It took a little bit for that to actually process in their heads. 

Because quite frankly even they couldn't register what they saw. 

No matter how many times I recall it, I just can't fathom the depths of its meaning. 

For the appearance Maeglin held before them could hardly be considered features you'd see with any elf. 

Silver hair isn't odd for a Teleri.

For the longest time Celegorm was called the "Fair" because of his bright silver hair and elegant features. 

But no eldar, whether they be Ñoldor or Sindar, has hair that carries a silver glow so bright it be comparable to that of starlight and the two trees combined.

Not even Artanis!

And she was was always praised for her golden head that carried silver threads of Telperion's light. 

No, this wasn't even remotely comparable.

It was something else altogether. 

Eru's sake the boy's whole body was glowing! 

Then there's his eyes; green eyes. 

Elves don't have green eyes; not that green. 

They looked like twinkling jewels. 

"What was that?" 

Maglor was pulled from his daze when he heard the awed whisper of his nephew. His nephew, Celebrimbor, that had not spoken a word since he was made to bear witness to what many could consider something right out of a fairytale. 

The boy looked like he was in shock. 

"Nephew-"

"He was completely alight. Uncle, that song he was singing, that glowing stag, those lights coming from the sky, and the way he looked. Please tell me you all saw that, because I'm really hoping I haven't gone crazy. D-Did I actually just see my baby cousin turn into white smoke and fly off?!" said Celebrimbor who was rapidly blinking. His speech becoming increasingly hasty with every word he spoke. 

The fact you say it further affirms that I saw it too. 

Huan whimpered and made his way to the boy who's care he'd countlessly overseen since he was an elfling. 

Celebrimbor didn't push him away as he wrapped his arms around the hound's grey fur and held him close. 

"He.....that song was so....." 

So moving it'd have made the coldest elf weep. 

It was a calling; the sounding of a reunion long overdue. 

A near siren's call to someone once far beyond reach. 

Quite possibly even a lament to rival my Ñoldolante and any song a minstrel could ever hope to compose. 

"I've never heard anything like it. It was so forlorn but also it held notes of...hope?" whispered Maglor's nephew as he snuggled himself into Huan's fur. Said hound that had currently taken to licking the boy's face in an attempt to cheer him up. 

Celegorm moved to comfort his nephew who now lay on the floor holding the hound. 

Never may any question my and Tyelkormo's love for our brother's son.

But there now poses a grave question. 

Hope for what?

Dear Eru..

Lómion, what did you do? (A lot😓).

"I can't believe any of it, and yet I see it clear within my mind. I-It was so beautiful. The music, living stars coming to brighten a once dark forest, an aura of warmth filling my very soul, the canopy opening up to the world above, the summoning of a being that embodied light, and...."

Celegorm pat his nephews hair as Celebrimbor actually let a few tears fall. 

Huan cuddled his head as the boy tried to ground himself through the hound he dearly loved. Tyelpe had always loved Celegorm's hound. 

"Speak your mind nephew for we will never judge" spoke his brother with familial tenderness as he continued to try and comfort their nephew. Celegorm just pat Tyelpe's head in gentle motions as a few more tears fell. 

All the while Fingon bore a look that spoke of a myriad of emotions so vast Maglor didn't dare decipher their meaning. 

Celebrimbor steadied himself before looking at all of them with eyes so innocent they'd have thought the near millenia old nér were an elfling again. 

"....The animals..."

Painful silence accompanied those words; for the implications were beyond comprehension.

He summoned them...like he summoned the stag....

But...

They were different.

He spoke a name...he spoke a name for each one he summoned.

He spoke a name with so much longing it almost broke him. 

Especially that name...

....Sirius. 

The one that appeared in a form similar to Huan's. 

With each name came a form, a form to house the symbols of emotions so powerful I cannot conceive what roused their awakening. 

Feelings so intense they near drowned my fëa with their song. 

Each was so different; so unique.

Intelligence

Innocence

Freedom

Loyalty

Strength

Endurance

And more....so many more...I could barely keep up with it all. 

So many emotions and feelings welled up within my fëa. 

But one commonality still stood. 

They're strong, unwavering, and faithful in ways I've never sensed. 

I didn't even recognize what some of them were. 

That massive cat exuded courage, bravery, and might so unyielding it'd have sent our strongest warriors fleeing (Neville 🥹).

"They were beautiful. They were so radiant, warm, and....one of them"

Maglor felt his heart near fail him. 

Oh Nienna's mercy, don't tell me. 

Celebrimbor was really crumbling now. Any adult bearing he once held tore to ribbons as he near sobbed and let Celegrom pull him into his arms. 

Huan whimpered once more as he used his muzzle to try and stave off the boy's tears. 

".....Uncle, I know you felt it. I know you all felt it. The warmth....and the love. The safety that only ever comes from just one person. Someone that can stir a child's heart in ways none can. Who can make you believe it'll all be alright no matter how much the odds are stacked against you. The moment I saw her...and her light reached within my very soul. I thought she was here. I thought beyond all plausible chance. That....it had come back. It was so strong. It was so familiar I barely held myself back"

Finally, with arduous effort his nephew said what Maglor had been dreading. 

"The doe...she felt like amme." 

With that confession, Celebrimbor proceeded to practically ball as fat tears fell. Celegorm held the boy to his chest and tried to soothe away his woes. Though his attempts to calm the boy proved in vain as his nephew just continued to sob. The boy's repressed feelings and longing for his own mother finally hit its breaking point. 

Maglor, Fingon, and Celegorm all released a pained hiss. 

A lily.

Lómion summoned that doe from one of the lilies growing on the blessed hill.

She was beyond anything I've ever seen or felt. 

She was aglow with a light arguably more luminous than the Silmarills. 

I wasn't alone when I felt that love. 

A mother's love...

An unconditional love that could fell the greatest of evils. 

A love I am undeserving of and yet yearn for with every fiber of my being (Nerdanel loves you, you idiot 😌)

Who was she?

Lómion, who was she to you?

Why did you hold her like she was precious to you? (Oh Maglor..😔).

"I felt it too"

All turned to look at their cousin. 

The cousin who'd been silent while Tyelpe poured his heart out before them. Celebrimbor sniffled before looking at his cousin with earnest empathy.

"Really? You felt it too?"

Fingon solemnly nodded his head. 

"The moment I saw her. I recalled all the times my Amme carried me to bed and recounted a bedtime story. The warmth of her arms and the safety I beheld whenever she told me to never fear the dark" said their cousin with an affection and yearning for times long past.

Tyelpe looked at Fingon with renewed kinship and understanding. 

"It was my earliest memory. When I was still a baby, but I remembered being swaddled in Amme's arms. She was singing as she held me to her heart. The same lullaby haru used to sing to me when I was little. I heard it as clear as the hammers in the forge" spoke their nephew with a vulnerability one would only ever share with their family. If any among the Fëanorian's longed to see their loved ones; it was undoubtedly their nephew. The only son of Curufin, and the innocent boy the nér long regretted bringing to Endore. 

He'll certainly regret it further once he finds out about this. 

If he hasn't felt the torrential emotions radiating from his son already (He has😬)

Tyelko may not be saying anything, but I can sense it made him recount quite a few things as well. He may not be open with his emotions when compared to the rest of us, but that doesn't mean he holds no love for our mother. Any who think that are blind.  

Good grief, I dare not tell them what that doe made me feel.

Maglor would tell none but maybe his eldest brother that as soon as the doe born of harmonious light appeared before the minstrel of the Ñoldor's eyes. He vividly recalled sitting on his mother's lap and listening to her chatter on about her craft of sculpting. In the span it took to blink, that doe had made him remember all the times he held his mother's hand while traversing the markets of Tirion, the times she found him when he playfully hid, and even brought forth the memory of when Maglor was gifted his first harp. An ever-lasting treasure she had crafted alongside Maglor's father Fëanor.

Twas an experience like no other. 

It was like all the worries and fears he long carried, vanished as though they'd never existed. The longing, love, warmth, and affection that doe ignited within his heart would forever be ill described with just mere words. For on this night Maglor had been made to face all the memories he had long kept buried. Memories and feelings he dared not bare before his maddened father; the same nér that once adored yet in the end scorned his dear wife Nerdanel with the same passion he once held for her. By that point Maglor saw everything he knew shatter like the once pristine frame that was his family. He told no one of the pain he carried; not through either words or bonds. For they were dangerous when laid before one that would squash and skewer them under the guise of false loyalty. 

No, he had near silenced the song of his own heart. 

His doubt and questions became repressed feelings to be stuffed in a chest and refused the mercy of release by the time he and his brothers burned the ships. 

An hour of folly that will forever speak tale of my weakness (You're not weak😠)

So he locked them away.

Kept them quiet. 

Chained them within a chest never meant to be opened. 

Only ever allowing the faintest wisp to slip when his son asked for that letter.

.....

......

...letter?

O_O

Wait

A sudden idea came to mind.One that sent a horror-stricken chill down his spine.For a moment he felt like the wind had just been knocked out of him.Whatever tirade he was on immediately ceased as he dared to put together a very unsettling theory. A speculation that, if proven true, may very well cause him to be the first elf to die from extreme stress (Ooh..👀)

.....He asked for letters...

The song.....it whispered "west."

....oh no.

No....no...

There's no conceivable way. 

We're still...

With all the courage he could muster he dared to seek confirmation, or with any luck possible rebuttal. 

His eyes immediately fell upon the boy that still clung to the great hound. 

"Tyelpe" he said in a near broken whisper.

His little nephew who had finally calmed some looked to Maglor with a questioning gaze. The hound and Celegorm seemingly sharing in his confusion when they saw the apparent pale look on Maglor's face. Seemed they also took note of the violent trembling he was now no doubt showcasing to his unsettled audience. 

"Yes, uncle? What's wrong?" said his nephew with clear concern even as the boy wiped the last remnants of his tears. 

"Cousin?" said Fingon in clear alarm.

.....

Please let me be wrong (Oh dear👀)

"Tyelpe, what was in that bag you gave Lómion?" 

Celebrimbor looked perplexed for a moment before he did something that well and truly made Maglor internally shudder.

Before his cousin and uncles, Celebrimbor's eyes actually constricted to the point you almost couldn't see the blue in them. Then as if that wasn't enough the boy's palor went totally white as his jaw proceeded to drop. 

Huan near howled a startled yelp when he saw that. 

Of course that was only the prelude to the ice about to be poured down Maglor's back. Considering his worst fear just got mercilessly confirmed. 

"..T-The l-letters. I-I g-gave him the letters he asked us to w-write" stuttered his nephew with naught but growing trepidation. 

That was the final curtain cut as Maglor Fëanorian finally let himself fall to the throes of utter panic. 

Though in this instance, he wouldn't be alone. For the confession seemed to register a terrible conclusion within the minds of his company too. 

Needless to say, they all freaked. 

Celegorm choked. 

Fingon whimpered. 

Huan barked a frightened whine.

Maglor grabbed his hair and screamed "😱AHHHHHHHHH!"

No no no no NO! 

He wouldn't dare. 

He wouldn't DARE! (He dare😇)

Eru Ilúvatar if you can hear me, please stop that crazy boy! (We're sorry the phone number you have dialed is temporarily out of service☎️)

(Sorry pal....they might have encouraged this😅)

"He wouldn't, he wouldn't (He would🤭). He wouldn't right? Right??!" pleaded Fingon who was on the verge of hysteria. It honestly sounded like he was trying to tell himself that more than anything else. 

You tell me! (Dude, you already know 😇)

"We're banished! SOMEBODY TELL ME HE'S NOT TRYING TO DO WHAT I THINK HE IS!" bellowed Celegorm as a rare look of true fear actually appeared on his usually smug face. 

Have you met that boy! (Godrick would be so proud (◡‿◡))

Anyone have mercy, tell me he wouldn't actually violate the ban?!

(Oh he's doing worse.....well Prongs is anyway......haha🤣)

"We have to find him! We have to find him, NOW! Uncle, don't just stand there. DO SOMETHING!" near cried his nephew as he grabbed Maglor's clothes with a frenzied grip. 

Me?! Me?! 

"Do you all think I am sitting here twiddling my thumbs?! How am I supposed to stop a flying....a flying???...grahh!" he near boomed before he was cut off by the brother who was becoming more notorious for it by the minute. 

"Flying white ghost like apparition that's flocked by glowing animal like beings bearing the ludicrous visage of something right out of a made up tale meant to entertain children. Said whatever they are, that may very well be heading for Valinor?! Oh yes, let's announce that to our search parties. I'm sure they'll have an easy time tracking him down if we explain it like that. Actually, you know what. How about we ask them to sprout wings while we're at it. I'm sure that'll ease their search!" said his brother Celegorm with an arrogant sarcasm Maglor really didn't need to hear.

The Bard of the Ñoldor was not amused. 

If ever there was a day Maglor genuinely considered punching his younger brother in the face and knocking him out. It was today! 

Maglor replied in kind as he sent his brother the most scathing glare he had ever mustered. Apparently, it was so intense Celegorm actually faltered in his ravings. 

"Tyelkormo Turkafinwë, cease your sarcastic prattlings at once before I take up the task myself" he said with an anger he usually didn't show his blood (Dude, you've wrecked how much furniture?🤨).

Celegorm had the decency to actually look cowed before choosing to stay quiet. 

Huan took the liberty to audibly huff at his masters immaturity. 

Something that made Celegorm look genuinely offended. 

Hmph, that'll teach you. 

"Findekáno" 

The crown prince snapped back to reality. 

"Contact your father through ósanwë and tell him what's happened. Contact Maitimo as well while you're at it. Tyelpe, you tell your father while I contact the rest of your uncles. We'll spread the news faster if we divide this amongst ourselves. Bear in mind to keep your information as brief and detailed as possible. There's not a moment to waste with lengthy explanations for it coincides with the danger Lómion may face for every second he is out there. We can't risk anyone of our own accidentally firing at him through whatever means he chooses to make his way back" 

"But cousin what about-" spoke Fingon with lingering fear before Maglor cut him off. 

"Cousin I don't like this anymore than you do, but for right now all we can do is believe he'll come back to us"

"But if he's truly...then the journey could take-"

Maglor well and truly just looked at Fingon with a near pleading expression.

"Please, please cousin. For now....please just trust me"

Fingon still didn't look convinced, but deep down knew there was little else they could do given their options. The crown prince finally settled for weakly nodding his head as Maglor felt the elf reaching for the fëa's of his uncle and eldest brother. 

"Uncle, he'll be alright right? Lómion will come back okay?" said his nephew with evident unease as he rose from the floor with Huan still at his side. All the while Celegorm eyed Maglor from behind his nephew with a look that clearly showed the hunter was yet to be swayed. 

Maglor had not the heart to ever lie to his nephew so he settled for the best he could put forward.

"Have faith in your cousin nephew. You've seen he can be quite resourceful-"

Of course, that's the understatement of the century (Breaking & entering, theft, destruction of private property, foreseeable kidnapping....yup😇)

"So let's have faith that he'll return to us just as he has before" he said with as much empathy as he could conjure. 

Celebrimbor only meekly nodded as he left the room with Celegorm following behind. Though before Celegorm left he eyed his elder brother with a look that clearly said he wasn't pleased with any of this. But through their bond, Maglor felt his younger brother send a small wave of comfort. A mild respite from a sibling that otherwise was known to be brazen beyond measure. 

Maglor internally scoffed. 

Hah, acts tough yet has a soft side to which only some are privy.

Finally he was alone as the last of his company left. 

He collapsed into the nearest chair and held his head in his hands. Maglor may have tried to keep it together in front of everyone else, but deep down he was terrified. 

Scared for his son, and the consequences his actions might bringan.

Angry at himself for not stopping the boy. 

Then worst of all, frustrated with his inability to aid Aredhel's child.

I know I am undeserving of any right to plead for mercy. 

But please, Lómion, wherever you are; come back to us safe. 

Through the hand of fate, Maglor's plea would be answered. 

Though by what price....

...only time could tell. 

It started when Erestor and Tarion charged into his office with the ferocity of Ulmo's storms. 

Maglor needed not hear their words for their arrival coincided with a wave of panic from none other then his brother Maedhros. His eldest sibling, who'd been informed about the machinations behind Lómion's flight, was now shooting images of a white apparition swiftly soaring across the skies above Himring right into his mind. The Bard of the Ñoldor deigned not listen or wait for any further confirmation, for as soon as he saw the visage of his son he was spurred like a man on a battlefield. 

He bolted through the halls of his fortress. Erestor was right on his tail, as he yelled for someone to bring their lord a horse.

The crisp night air filled his nose as the first rays of dawn began to pierce the sky. He was mounting his horse; the world around him a flurry of noise and movement. Erestor was helping him steady the steed. The advisor still shouting commands while soldiers rushed past. It was as though they were preparing for a battle. Everything around Maglor was moving. 

Until it wasn't. 

In no time at all, the once lively fortress was so no longer. 

All movement ceased. 

A sudden silence fell upon the gap. 

Everyone seemed to have become trapped in some sort of trance.

Even Erestor had gone quiet.

He wasn't looking at Maglor, nor were any of the elves. 

Maglor didn't know what could have distracted them like this. 

Though he soon would. 

For when he followed the eyes of his kin.

Where are they all looking-

.....

Blue gray eyes looked to where all others lingered. 

How..

The grip on the reins slacked. 

It can't...

Awe and wonder filled his fëa.

How can this be?

There in the North. 

They were destroyed.

A top a hill once crested with cold, now a glade of everlasting green. 

Poisoned and withered beyond hope of rekindle. 

Heralding a new day was the memory of gold and silver light joined together in a world once lit by only starlight. 

The last legacy of their light should have been left to thrive within the three. 

The vessel of Laurelin's fruit no longer shone in solo radiance. 

What wonders shall not cease?

Two lights now beheld the eyes of the firstborn. 

What hope and life shall you ignite within our beings?

The Lily field where a pillar of mercy once shined hope upon Eä. 

What new path hath you paved?

Now joined its kin in brightening a part of the world once more. 

I feel him.

I feel him. 

He's there. 

For though this miracle would soon pass, the light of the lilies and the fruit of Arien's ship....... 

Merged to bring the light of Corollairë to the lands once sundered. 

How he broke the spell of reverence that held him in place?

He did not know. 

Perhaps it was the love for the child he welcomed into his heart or the instinctive parental urge to reach the boy he'd long fraught over. Honestly, he had not the time to ponder. All Maglor Fëanorian knew was that he spurred the horse forward with no care for his own well-being. As he tugged on the reins, Maglor's horse charged straight for the hill where the light of memory long past now glimmered as a beacon for his keep. 

His only care right was getting to Lómion as fast as possible. 

Thankfully, he needn't wait long. Even if he would soon be forced to tread a path he dared not previously trod. 

When first sprouted, he feared to come near. Upon learning that this had been the site of a miracle born he only deigned to gaze from afar. He dared not touch with his blood stained hands, the pure white that now filled this small patch of mountain. 

But now he would. 

He would if it meant ensuring Lómion's safety, and bringing him home. The same boy he knew to be close, but laid unresponsive on the other end of the bond. 

He must have passed out. 

I can tell he's completely exhausted. 

But what is this-

The horse slowed its pace and finally stilled. Upon reaching the borders of the lily patch, the steed refused to go any further. Any attempts to sway the creature were met with restless grunting. Maglor knew this was no coincidence. They had ceased their run right on the boundary of where grass met snow. 

So this is as far as you can go my friend. 

Very well, no need force yourself. 

This isn't exactly settling for me either. 

When Maglor finally calmed the horse and dismounted; he audibly gasped.

By the Valar.

The lilies of the blessed field were lit as the stars in the cloudless night. The scent of peace and calm filled the air as a gentle breeze blew. A complete contrast to the snow that lay behind him and the cold winds that bit at his ears not one minute ago. For here in this small patch of earth. A tranquility like none felt even in Valinor, filled Maglor's fëa and hröa to the very brim. 

This-this is where...

No stop it!

Maglor snapped out of his daydream and hastily scanned for the reason behind his coming. 

He frantically reached for his bond to try and find some semblance of the boy hidden in this field. 

Where are you?

Pitya please where are you??

Answer me, little one. 

He was very well about to dare treading through the lilies when another perplexity occurred before the bard's eyes. 

The lilies moved. 

As though privy to his desire (Someone knows😊), the flowers and their leaves began to sway. Following the melody of a song he could not hear, the lilies swayed away from his feet in a rustle of stem and petals. Half swayed left while the other swayed right. 

They were clearing a path. 

A path still lit by their adjoining lights. 

Maglor didn't question any of it as he slowly stepped into the now flowerless grass. He followed the path before his feet all while fearing each step might be his last.

Despite not sensing even an ounce of hostility within this realm of safety, he dared not linger. For the peace filling his being was one he dared to bask lest he get lost in its depths.

Luckily, he needn't worry because within a few minutes of following the cleared path he finally found what he was looking for. 

Though what he saw, was something he'd never forget. 

Oh my word.

Twas a visage of something an artist could have only ever dreamed to bring to canvas. An image one would only ever foretell in tales of fantasy and imagination. 

This was no dream. 

Laying as a light among the many was his son. 

With hair still silver as it was in Nan-Elmoth and a body yet lightly aglow. 

Lómion laid completely motionless among the lilies. 

The endless clusters of petals surrounded him in what looked like a shield of protection. It almost appeared as though he were buried within a bed of white. 

Maglor could not help the cry that left his throat, "Lómion!"

He rushed to the boy.  The lilies clearing a path as he ran. The second of Fëanor's sons nigh collapsed to his knees as he carefully lifted the elfling from where he lay among the flowers. Maglor held him close, and as he did tears escaped. 

Tears of relief mixed with endless worry. 

Pitya, pitya you're safe.

It's alright little one. 

It's alright now, I have you. 

With as much caution as he could use given the circumstances, he rushed them both out of the field and onto his horse. Though the endeavor proved difficult given the mare almost bolted after being near blinded by the light coming off his son. Maglor had no choice but to try and cover it with his cloak. It was only when his steed started galloping through the snow and back to the Gap that Maglor firmly grasped the implications of what a sight he made. 

If anyone saw Lómion like this, they'd no doubt think he was some sort of Vala (Really good intuition🤭). 

To the void with it then. 

I suppose loyalties will be tested. 

He hastened his steed and continued the mad ride back to the Gap. Lómion held tight to him as they rode on through the waking morn. He hardly even registered the arrival of Maedhros as he made it to his fortress, and dashed through the halls once more with the boy tucked securely in his arms. 

Valar, he barely took notice of his siblings dashing after him like crazed chickens.

He didn't even have the luxury of fretting over the stunned faces of the staff he passed. 

Though he could garner a guess as to what was causing them to have such unique expressions. 

Given rays of light were currently leaking through the cloak he had used to try and smother it. 

He kicked the door to the healing halls without a single care for dignity. The force so hard it knocked the door off its hinges (Crazy door wrecker!🤦)

If there were ever a time Máriel looked like she questioned everything she knew. It was certainly now given she was now staring at her lord carrying a boy that looked liked he'd swallowed and failed to digest a Silmaril!

Regardless of it all; she still made good on her healer's vows as she swiftly deemed her prince the priority.

"On the bed now!" 

Maglor did as he was told and carefully laid the boy down. The family waiting with bated breath as they clamored by the doorless entrance. Though the healer did manage a complete double take when Maglor removed the cloak and the silver hair practically lit up the whole room. 

Máriel had to actually shield her eyes as she placed her hands to Lómion's head in an attempt to stir the boy back to awareness. 

Sadly, her songs of healing would prove useless. 

Because in the blink of an eye her hands retreated from their charge as though she'd been burned, "AH!" 

She fell to the floor with a pained gasp as she clutched her hands shut.

"Máriel?! What happened??? What's wrong with him?!" 

She couldn't give a coherent answer as Maedhros tried to help her up. The healer was visibly shaking and just kept muttering. 

"...Eru...Dear Eru...such power...so much...How?" 

"Máriel look at me! What happened?!" he boomed with near panic as he eyed the usually stoic healer. 

"I-I can't heal him. I can't reach his fëa, it's too strong. His power is too rampant for me to reach him" 

What in the Valar's name does that mean?!?! (His core's gone wack; too riled up😓). 

"Try again! Please, try again" wailed the crown prince as he came to the boy's bedside and quite frankly didn't care for the glow his nephew was emitting. 

Máriel stood to try again, but her resolve would be for naught. Because just as soon as she'd steeled herself to dare another attempt. 

The light went out. 

Just as a candle loses its flame to the biting winds of a winter storm, the seeming glow of the ainur dwindled till it faded beyond hope of return. Twas so sudden and ominous; Maglor couldn't help but shiver. The effect the arrival of such darkness made upon the room's occupants was near chilling. With growing trepidation, they helplessly watched what could only be the presage of disaster. 

From root to tips, the hair that gleamed a silver of starlight returned to its original black. 

The glow that glistened his skin, receded to the pale of his mother. 

Then within the bounds of his soul.

Maglor felt the fatherly bond he shared with Lómion erupt with fruitless yearning and remorse. 

He actually clutched his chest from the tsunami of emotions slamming into his fëa.

He knew this pain.

I know this...

I know this...

This is what I felt when I lost Atar.

This is the feeling of losing someone. 

Of saying an unsought goodbye. 

But something's wrong....?

This is different and yet not. 

It's like a reunion and farewell converged into a chaotic typhoon. 

Remnants of guilt from a taboo being broken.

There can be no question now. 

Those animals -those beings- they had to have been.....

His attention shifted when the bed suddenly creaked and he was left gawking at the sight of his heart son sitting almost unsettlingly upright. The shared emotions once plaguing Maglor's fëa came to to a deafening halt.

Something's wrong.

Why isn't he saying anything?

I didn't even sense he was awake. 

The anticipation was almost maddening as rather than relief, the abrupt awakening came accompanied by an eerie foreboding. 

Please...please don't be anything bad. 

The universe deigned not hear his plea.

The silence was broken when a soul-wrenching gasp escaped the crown prince. The cousin that was still at Lómion's bedside, and just bore witness to a sight that nigh brought him to tears. 

Maglor would soon know why for when the boy finally looked up. 

What Maglor saw....

...filled him with pure dread. 

"Pitya? -GASP!!"

Maglor hurried to his son, and as he did he confirmed his fears when he saw the boy's eyes. 

No longer green as lustrous gems.

Hardly even black.

There was not even a sign of light in them. 

Devoid of hardly any life. 

Vacant

Expressionless

Empty

No

Maglor had seen this before. 

No

Among fellow soldiers that'd lost the half of their soul. 

No please

"Hína.." 

Mute before the cries of a loved one. 

"Pitya, Pitya please" 

Unmoved and quiet in the face of a reality they cannot bear. 

Celegorm tried to shake him awake. 

It didn't work. 

"Maeglin, Lómion come on. Come on look at me. Please speak if you can hear me" 

A sickness come upon those of the firstborn who seek freedom from the confines of the hröa. 

"Cousin, it's me. It's Tyelpe, please say something" 

Maeglin said nothing, and Maglor knew why. 

"Máriel I beg thee. I beg thee tell me you can heal him!" 

The healer's head fell in shame. She actually released a sob at her own inability to help. For she knew the ailment they suspected could rarely be healed. 

If what they feared was to be true, then they were well and truly doomed. 

The curse of fading had come for their youngest kin. 

Fingon pleaded again as he wailed from the boy's bedside "Hína, hína please answer me. Look at me nephew please!"

The plea fell on deaf ears as the boy replied with such indifference it horrified them.

"Please, leave me alone for now."

None managed a reply as the child barreled right through his family, and made straight for his room. None were given a chance to process what just happened, for by the time they did the boy had already locked himself in his room. 

Then from there....

...it was chaos. 

"Hína, Hína PLEASE! OPEN THE DOOR!" BANG! BANG!! BANG!!!

"Lómion, come out! Come out, we can talk about this"

"COUSIN! COUSIN STOP THIS! YOU CAN'T LEAVE US LIKE THIS"

"By Eru Nelyo do something!"

"DO WHAT TYELKO?! WE CAN'T GET IN!!"

"ANYTHING!! I DON'T CARE! JUST DO SOMETHING HE'S FADING!!!"

"This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be happening" 

"Findekáno get a grip on yourself!"

"I can't lose him! I can't Russo. I lost his mother...I lost my sister.....no no no no no no" 

"DAMN IT ALL!"

"HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?!"

"HOW DO YOU THINK!!"

"Just break down the door already!"

"AND RISK HURTING HIM?!"

"HE'S HURTING NOW!!"

"PITYA OPEN THE DOOR! Please at least eat something! Please-sob- please little one..."

This went on for nearly a week. Seven horrific Eru forsaken days of screaming, pleading, and practically clawing at each other's throats. Somewhere in all the chaos Maeglin had managed to use his magic on the infernal doorknob. Nothing could break the accursed thing! On the third day Erestor had even tried attacking it with a sword only to end up tossed across the hall when the weapon shattered to pieces. 

His poor advisor almost dislocated his shoulder in that endeavor. 

Of course, that didn't stop him from trying to break the door down with the rest of his brothers.

Even Máriel, still reeling from her failure, tried to slash the door open with a spear. That only resulted in her bouncing on the staff end of the weapon when it got stuck in the wood, and near crashing right into the ceiling. 

Now the healer needed a healer!

Twas humiliating, depressing, and maddening all at the same time!

I have fought legions of orcs!

I have stood before the gates of Angband yelling in defiance of the Dark Lord. 

Yet here I stand being defeated by a thrice-damned door (╯▔皿▔)╯

GRAHHHHH!

At some point Curufin, after viciously berating all of them for allowing this to happen, tried to pick the lock only to be met with the sight of it EATING his pick! (Colloportus man🤷‍♀️, it's an effective spell😅). 

After abandoning all hope of trying to get through the enchanted demon lock. Curufin finally lost his temper and started punching the door like a madman (Think of the scene when Pig lost it on the vending machine in the movie Chicken Little ⊙﹏⊙∥). Obviously that didn't work, and by the time the hour was up Curufin ended up with bloodied knuckles and a horrible migraine. Tyelpe had to drag his father to the healing halls by the collar after he'd exhausted himself into a stupor. 

As for his eldest brother, Maedhros was doing everything within his power to keep Fingon from falling apart. The crown prince had abandoned all his prestige to the fires of a volcano, and spent every day crying in front of Maeglin's door; constantly begging him to come out. Eventually, Maglor's cousin had gone so far as to sleep -pass out- in front of the child's door with nothing but a raggedy blanket. There were even days they caught him wailing and scratching at Maeglin's door like a miserable cat. 

Whoever held disdain for the crown prince before; certainly couldn't bring themselves to do it now. Given the pathetic and tragic sight he made. 

They tried to argue with him.

They tried to make the stubborn nér see that this wasn't going to help, but he just wouldn't listen. 

"I'm not abandoning my nephew!"

"You are not abandoning him. Finno please you can still-"

"I am not leaving this spot, EVEN IF YOU THREATHEN ME!"

That was the end of it. 

It didn't get better, and by the time the sixth day came Maglor was at his wits end. It was bad enough that Fingolfin threatened to cleave his head from his shoulders (He wasn't serious) if he didn't fix this at once. When he wasn't crying up a storm, Fingon had managed to inform Maedhros that their uncle nearly abandoned his post in Hithlum following the revelation of Maeglin's condition. As soon as Fingolfin heard the news, the dangerous nér became mere inches away from storming their territories in a crazed frenzy. The only reason said High King wasn't charging here like a Balrog was because Elvion barely managed to convince -beg- his king not to do it. The advisor had insistently argued that even if Fingolfin tore right through Dorthonion and ripped through every tree in his path (Be nice to trees 🤦‍♀️); he still wouldn't make it in time to help his grandson. 

Bless that nér, because I don't think anyone wants another round of that horror ◉_◉ (Definitely not the orcs 😬).

That green lady will only stay quiet for so long; the Ents even less (Yeah, she wasn't happy👀).

Those creatures are not forgiving to anyone that tears apart their forest. 

By now the only thing that kept everyone from going completely crazy or fading themselves was the fact that Lómion seemed to be actively making an effort to eat something. Maglor didn't care how the boy was doing it, but whenever they left the tray at his door, the food would somehow vanish. Only to reappear a few hours later outside the door with evidence of a few bites having been eaten. By no means did the meager mouse sized nibbles placate Maglor's frantic heart, but at the very least it did tell him the child was trying to fight off the fading (He's not fading 🙄). 

Then as if the enchanted doors, cursed locks, disappearing food, hysterical siblings, weeping cousin, and bloodthirsty uncle weren't enough. On the fifth day Maeglin put up a sign on his door written in some strange language NONE of them could read! (He wrote "leave me alone" in English🤦‍♀️; Aye, Harry￣へ￣).

No one knew how it got there, but it soon became a major subject of scrutiny. 

What in the world even is this???

What kind of language is written so....curly? (ㆆ_ㆆ) (Ah, English Cursive😅)

Curufin ended up taking the thing, and digging through the library in an attempt to find out what it said. Yet in the end his efforts yielded no results. This whole thing left them utterly flummoxed. It wasn't written in Khuzdul, Westron, Sindarin, Quenya, or any feasible language known to them. Not even Erestor knew what it said nor had any clue as to what language he was attempting to decipher. 

By that point all of them had come to a conclusion from a long drawn-out theory. 

One that may very well explain why this was happening, and what may have instigated the boy's fading (Again, he's not fading! *throws hands up*)

Maglor didn't want to believe it, but with all the evidence staring him in the face; he was left with no choice. In truth he'd already come to the conclusion when he saw his son fly off into the heavens in a form he'd never seen in all his life. 

He's a reborn. 

But.....a reborn of what? 

Maglor didn't voice this revelation to his brothers, but he wasn't fool enough to believe they hadn't come to the same conclusion. But it would have to wait; they had more pressing issues to deal with. By the time the seventh day came Maeglin still hadn't come out. Frankly he was shocked the boy could sleep through all this noise (He's a deep sleeper (¬_¬ )). Maglor tried to reach the boy through their bond, but he was pushing everyone out. Lómion made it very clear that he wanted to be alone right now. Any other day he would respect the boy's wishes, but not when he was dying in the process! ( I give up🤦‍♀️ *walks away to get a coffee*) . 

Since the first day of this debacle, the entirety of his fortress had been thrown into a panic. Rumors that the young prince was dying and nothing could be done to save him were running rampant across the Gap. The somber mood permeating the halls was near suffocating. Maglor found himself surprised the former thralls hadn't mutinied against him by now. He'd certainly deserve it given he let this happen to their savior (Erestor's calming them down...barely).

It was the eve of the seventh day now, and Maglor had taken Fingon's place in sitting by the child's door; still locked and still vexingly in one piece. The only reason the boy's uncle wasn't manning his self designated post was because Maedhros had come by an hour ago to forcefully lug his brother by heart to the kitchens. Maglor was exhausted and looked like an honest mess. He had foregone any semblance of regard for his own wellbeing, and just wanted his son to be okay. He could feel the boy was still alive if not very well more tired than he's ever been. 

Hushed footsteps were soon heard as a pair of leather booths entered his periphery.  

Celegorm came right by his side, and the fair faced hunter wasn't looking too good either; albeit still better than him. 

Hah, I see he cares enough for his appearance to at least brush his hair. 

Sigh.

For a while they didn't say anything and just stared at the wall. The silence stretching and near drowning them in its wake. Finally Maglor's little brother spoke first.

"You know I always hated that everyone thought you the most cordial of our house" spoke his little brother with blank indifference. 

Maglor blinked; he wasn't expecting that. 

"Oh?"

"Yes, out of all our brothers, you were the one adored by amme for being so soft-spoken. Even our cousins loved you more than most of us; well, aside from Nelyo of course. But he was Atar's heir so I never really held it against him"

Maglor kept his face blank and his bond clear as he listened to the uncharacteristic forwardness his brother was showing. 

"Out of all of us Kano, you and Curvo were the one's born with gifts praised by the majority of the eldar. I don't care what hateful words get shot at us, but none can deny Curvo's skill in the forge. Regardless of past crimes, many would sell all their wares just to get their hands on even one blade forged by his hands" 

True words, given the pace of this war. 

Regardless of our efforts, people know when to buckle down to ensure their own survival. 

Celegorm sighed and looked to be lost in thought before continuing. 

"That wasn't the case for me"

?

"What do you mean little brother?" he said with a hint of softness. 

Celegorm just arched an amused brow at him. Though the look didn't reach his eyes. 

"I look like Haruni Míriel Kano" bluntly stated his brother with a blank look on his face. 

Maglor visibly winced. 

Aye, I still remember how Atar wept the day he laid eyes on your little face. 

Haru Finwë was pale as a sheet. 

"I'm not blind, for all you call me a fool-"

Only because you act like one half the time. 

"I know Atar named me 'strong' so that I might not follow the same fate as our grandmother"

I cannot dispute that claim, for the same can be said when Atar granted Curvo his own father name.

Amme argued over the efficacy of that even decades after he was born.

"I'm not haruni Kano. Atar understood that, and never gave me grief about it. I didn't want to be strong because of my name, but because I chose it. My strengths have always laid in the wide forests of the world, and the rush that comes from the hunt. It's who I am and I care not the rest of our relatives found it 'unbecoming' of my station" spoke Celegorm with evident displeasure. 

Maglor couldn't help but twitch his brow in irritation. 

How funny the ones who spoke such things were mostly the Vanyar, and those associated with Turgon's inner circle. 

Barring Finrod & Aegnor; the sad reality is that Uncle Ara's youngest really did make her displeasure for Tyelko known at nearly every banquet. 

By miracle or curse, the twins were too young to take note of such things (They noticed 😥).

"What are you trying to tell me toron" he said as he rested a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. A form of contact Celegorm surprisingly welcomed as he eyed Maglor with a rare softness. 

"I'm saying that I had few to actually call friend" 

Maglor tiredly sighed.

Sadly he couldn't really argue that point. 

Aye, and tis part of why you joined the hunt. 

Despite Atar's reluctance he still let you go because he wished only for you to be happy. 

"Irissë was one of the few"

Maglor said nothing as his hand still rested on his brother's shoulder. 

"She was not just my friend, but near sister in heart"

Maglor's eyes visibly widened.

His voice a near whisper as he replied.

"Truly?"

Celegorm nodded his head; a look of true fondness gracing his features.

"Yes, very few knew"

I knew you two were close, but I didn't think...

"Curvo, and the twins were the only ones I told. I suspect Uncle had an idea, but he cared not to interfere"

Uncle has only ever wanted peace in our house. 

Would that I had understood this sooner (You do now, it's not too late😌)

"I was the last one to see her before she disappeared. She came to Aglon on a visit, and had she not been followed by those arrogant tagalongs I'd have asked her to stay. She voiced her discontent of staying with her brother. Aredhel was a free spirit kano; she never wanted to be kept in a prettied cage and made to play the role of princess. Frankly, I had a hard time understanding even half the things she was telling me. I found it hard to believe her own brother could be so....prideful. She loved the hunt as much as I do, and was ever curious of the world around her. She didn't care what others thought of her, not even Artanis. Friends they may have been once, but I know not how much of that friendship yet lives. He's a good boy Kano. Lómion is his mother's son. I see so much of her in the child I am now helpless to save" said Celegorm with a unsteady heart as he clenched his fist in a near death grip.

I wonder; had Aredhel sought safety in Doriath would Thingol have let them in (....sigh...no 🤦‍♀️)

Would Artanis have pleaded on her friend's behalf (Good question...)

"She didn't want to go back to Gondolin. She wanted to be free to ride and explore. Uncle would have let her, and I well suspect she intended to lose her entourage the first chance given. She never told me where the city was located, and for that I will forever hate myself"

Worry not brother dear, for my spies are inching closer to those cowards even as we speak.

He granted Aredhel leave of his cursed city, yet did not the same for his own nephew. 

That prude will hear from me!

Though at some point I have to ask....

Why did she go with him, if she knew he had no plans to let people leave (She didn't know that😬)

"I should have gone with her. I shouldn't have let her go alone until I knew she was safe. Wild and strong as she may have been; I still should have known that something would happen. This place isn't Valinor, and while I don't regret us leaving. I do mourn becoming complacent. It's morbidly ironic honestly, you'd think after losing Atar we'd have deigned to exercise more caution" said his brother with a broken heart as he recalled the grief of losing their father. 

That was the worst day of their lives; only second to Maedhros being captured. 

Before Fingon rescued their brother; those first years in Beleriand were truly the worst of their entire lives. 

But that time has passed; we have a new hope, and I pray it does not falter. 

"I can't lose him Kano. I don't just care for him because he's Irissë's son. He's a good child; warm & kind to a fault. He gets along so well with Tyelpe, and doesn't deserve this" spoke the usually steadfast hunter with a broken edge to his voice. 

Maglor gently squeezed his brother's shoulder as he made to pull the nér to rest on his own. Celegorm didn't fight it nor did he voice any sarcastic retorts. In a rare hour of sincerity, Maglor just held his little brother. He sent waves of comfort through his fëa, and made clear to his brother that he'd be here to listen.

Never judging but always open.  

His brother just closed his eyes and accepted it. 

They didn't know how long they stayed that way, and frankly Maglor didn't care. 

He needed this, and was glad he wasn't alone in weathering the storm before them. 

Their reverie was broken when another set of footsteps drew close. These ones the two elves were intimately familiar with, as they belonged to their nephew. 

Telperinquar came by them with silent steps. Their nephew, now nearing a millennia old, just looked at them with visible sadness. 

"Still?"

They both just sighed and were about to reply with a "yes" when-

Clink

Their ears twitched. 

Tyelpe went ramrod straight when the noise reached his ears. 

They all turned to look at the door that'd been locked for nigh over a week. 

Maglor felt a surge of hope well up in his chest.

"...Do you think?"

Maglor didn't waste a minute as he hastily stood and made for the doorknob. He slowly gripped and with a weary heart; turned it. 

The lock clicked and the door finally opened. 

YES!

Thank goodness, yes! 

Lómion where- ⊙﹏⊙∥

AH!

Whatever well of hope filled his heart, instantly dried when he took one whiff of the stink permeating the room.

What?!

What in Nienna's mercy is that smell?! (Ah sweat? 😅)

This whole place wreaks of misery (No, I mean he hasn't showered in a minute so🤷‍♀️).

He wasn't the only one to take notice of the aforementioned odor wafting through the whole of their kin's chambers. Celegorm went so far as to cover his nose, given he had a more sensitive sense of smell than most. As for Tyelpe, he looked like his eyes were burning from being in the mere presence of the intense aroma.

If uncle didn't want to slay me before, he certainly will when he finds out I let his grandchild reside in a room filled with copious amounts of dust (Didn't use the cleaning charms🤦‍♀️)

Like a hawk, Maglor scanned the room and quickly found an elf sized bundle of sheets on what once was Lómion's clean bed. 

Maglor swore that by the time this was over, his son was getting a new bed!

Carefully, he moved to the bed and gently pulled away the sheets-

....

He heard Tyelpe gasp, but he hardly registered it. 

No, his eyes were nailed to the sight before him. 

His hands shook and with the tenderness of a feather he pulled away the hair from his son's emaciated face.

...

My boy...

My little one...

What have you done...What have you done to yourself?

What price did you pay to get in such a state?

Parental instincts took over with a vengeance as he slowly scanned the boy's condition. 

He's thin as a stick. 

Eru above, he's lost so much weight. 

My boy, pitya...

Before he knew it he was gently cradling the boy's head in his lap, and immediately tried to bring life back into the little one's fëa. With grace only his kin possessed, he pat the boy's head as he once more let tears fall. There was some strange cloth covering the child's eyes, but he dared not move it lest he accidentally make things worse. 

Self-loathing struck him like a dingy caught in a storm. 

I let this happen.

I let him get in this state. 

I'll never forgive myself for this (Stop that😠).

The only reprieve from this nightmare was that upon close inspection Maglor found Lómion wasn't suffering from fëa sickness again. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for his body, given the elfling looked like he'd traversed the eastern deserts with no supplies to speak of. 

"Kano"

The feel of his brother's hand on his shoulder, woke him from his daze. 

"Kano, go tell the others the door's open. I'll stay with him"

He barely held back his sobs.

"You want me to leave him now-"

"Not leave him, look at yourself Kano. Go clean yourself up a bit. This isn't what Lómion needs to see when he wakes up. I'll look after him till you get back" said his brother with a tenderness he never thought possible. 

Refusal was on the tip of his tongue until-

"Trust me toron, I've got him"

That broke the dam as Maglor slowly laid the elfling back down on the bed.

Slowly, he made his way out of the room.

Rest well Lómion, I'll be back soon pitya.

In hindsight, he should have known better than to leave emotional management in the hands of Celegorm Fëanorian. 

Given by the time he'd come back to his son's room, Tyelkormo was almost scolded into oblivion following his inadvertent part in making his son cry. 

Regardless of the reason. 

Though if Maglor thought the night was done.

He was sorely mistaken.

 (The next morning after Lómion revealed the truth to his family)

Maglor had seen and heard a lot of things in his long life, but-

He glanced at the figures sitting stock-still in his chambers. One said figure being his uncle Fingolfin; who by all accounts shouldn't be here. Yet he was, courtesy of Lómion revealing another ability that left them shell-shocked beyond recourse. The power to instantly get from one place to another with nothing but a thought. Said ability that seemingly could be hazardous to one's health when not done with the utmost caution (Splinching 😬). As if that wasn't enough, he finds out with no small degree of ruthlessness that the child had apparently lost his arm at some point (Not lost it😅). Then proceeded to admit that he'd seemingly grown it back using his magic medicines (Madam Pomfrey actually👀). 

Maglor felt his stomach twist. 

At least now we know how he's been getting into places without anyone seeing him.....(Doors are officially useless)

And it would seem he's used that trick to get out of rather sticky situations.

.....

Hah...haha

Oh.....oh look at that; I see cracks in the floor....must have happened when he got upset.

...

I'll be on stomach medicine indefinitely. 

Of course, that was only a small part of why the majority of Finwë's house currently looked like they'd just gone several rounds in dwarfish taverns.

Oh no.

Not even close. 

It was everything the boy revealed before he'd turned into a hummingbird, and been gently escorted out by the twins. Twas unfortunate the adorable bell like "meeps" did little to soothe the thunderous turmoil running rampant within the minds of his siblings. In all fairness, about half way through the conversation Maglor chose to shut his mind down in a vain attempt to slowly take it all in. He'd bided his time and waited until Curufin and Caranthir were roused out of their terror driven theatrics. Of course, Maglor would never blame them for seeking an immediate escape from the news that threatened to get them irrefutably damned to the void. Then again that didn't make sense either. Seeing as by Lómion's estimation, all this happened over a week ago. 

Yet here they were. 

Still in their hröa's and not being dragged to Valinor in chains. 

Maedhros, the first to awaken after fainting into the floor, had taken the liberty of filling in the missing details of what occurred after Caranthir and Curufin fled to Irmo's realm. 

I'm stunned that Vala didn't steal their souls while he had the chance (Dude, you are going to make him cry ಠ_ಠ)

Out of everyone, Fingolfin had probably taken it the worst. The poor elf looked pale as a ghost while also carrying an expression riddled with sheer guilt. Maglor needed no bond to know what thoughts were doubtlessly running amuck inside their uncle's mind. Fingon didn't look much better, but for very different reasons.

He just heard his own brother would have potentially thrown Lómion in a cell for the sake of his city. 

Who would be fine after that?! I'm surprised he's still upright.

A few ticks passed since Maedhros finished explaining the gravity of the situation to his now conscious siblings, and naturally-

"Those vile repugnant-"

Some of them didn't take it well. 

"Curvo!"

The imminent explosion was only delayed on account of the air of absolute authority held within the eldest's steely gaze. Curufin bit his tongue, but only for the moment; given he knew why Maedhros stopped him. Curufin soon turned to his son. The only member of their group that had swallowed the latest news with any semblance of grace.

Oh to be young and take everything like a grain of salt. 

"Tyelpe" said Curufin with tenderness reserved for his only child.

Celebrimbor looked to his father with evident confusion. 

"Yes, Ada?"

"Go after your uncles Tyelpe. I'm sure they could use your help in tending to Lómion" softly said the parent on the edge of blowing like a furnace.

"What?! Atar please, I can-"

Curufin gently shushed the boy and pat his child's cheek. A fond and warm smile appeared on the older elf's face as he gazed into his son's blue eyes, his mother's eyes, with unmasked affection.

"Yonya, worry not for us here. I'll speak of what we discussed with you later"

The boy still looked ready to object until-

"Go look after your brother yonya"

At that Celebrimbor's ears went visibly red. The boy near spluttered before bashfully nodding his head and scampering out of the room. As soon as the door closed behind their nephew, the room fell eerily quiet once more. Curufin was about to speak, all traces of peace burned to ash, until Caranthir raised his arm in a motion to be quiet. No one said a thing as they quickly heard the fourth born speak in their minds through ósanwë. 

'From this point forward, no one speaks with their voice'

?

'Why not Moryo?'

'Because Kano, given what we've just learned. I would not put it past a certain Valie to be listening into our conversation' said Caranthir into their heads with an uneasiness that made the dark eyed elf visually tremble. 

⊙_⊙?!

'You think Elentári might be-'

'Listening in on us? She's Manwë's queen, and given the stunt that boy just pulled. YES Kano, I think she might be listening for any damning evidence' (She's eavesdropping right now🤣).

'He's right, the mind is a realm even the Valar cannot cross should our doors remain shut. It was one of the first things I learned as heir to our house'

'How come I'm just now hearing this?'

'Maybe because you never paid much attention during our lessons Tyelko'

'So if she's listening right now?'

'She'll hear naught but silence so long as we speak through ósanwë. Considering their inaction, I think it's safe to say they're still ignorant of the range of Lómion's abilities. I don't plan on us giving anything away on accident'

Is he actually presuming that the Valar are scared of him??? (Scared? No. Wary? Heck, yes😅)

An audible hiccup resounded through their bond before all unanimously nodded their heads. 

Curufin took that as his cue to restart his piece.

'Well then since we've got that settled; I'll start. THOSE VILE REPUGNANT FAITHLESS WRETCHES!!!' seethed Curufin with an initial fake smile which soon turned vicious. The nér was so angry he physically bared his teeth. 

I can't believe it...all this time Atar...

'Atar was right. All this time he was right! They were nothing but liars and shameless monsters with pretty faces. They've been deceiving us since the very beginning!'

'Curvo you know that's not-'

'Not what?! Not what Nelyo! You heard him! You heard what Lómion told us. They abandoned the first elves. They've been forsaking our kin since day one! They didn't right the monstrosities committed by that, that THING. No, they let the beast loose. They let it walk amongst us despite the endless atrocities. It's a monster! A mindless monster! It wasn't enough Atar never met Haruni on account of their own hubris. Now, we learn they've near cast tragedy upon our house yet again!It wasn't enough their erroneous council made Atar near suffer all his life. No, they go and do something that near caused irreparable damage to our whole family. Lómion was right to tell them off! They see themselves lofty when they are naught but shameless charlatans preaching an empty choir. Then when Haru is murdered, instead of exercising humility, their ignorance almost maimed Atar beyond healing! And they said nothing!!! They would have left all blind to the truth! I have had enough of the plagues they have wrought upon our house!! HOW DARE THEY! HOW DARE THEY! HOW DARE THEY!!! I'LL MAKE THEM PAY FOR THIS!!!'

Curufin's anger was so fierce, the fire in his fëa threatened to burn them. Many had to actually pull back on the bond because the roaring blaze of hatred was too much for them to take. Within Maglor's chambers, the most loyal of Fëanor's sons now shook from the exertion of so much rage. 

The room fell into an awkward silence. None offered a rebuttal; for they all knew Curufin's words to be true. 

This was unforgivable. 

The gravity of such a revelation left Maglor reeling and near wheezing. 

Atar harmed his fëa. 

Had the Valar broken the Silmarilli, he'd...

Maglor chose not to entertain the thought any longer; for just daring to ponder the implications left a new type of fear in its wake. One he had no wish to allow to fester within the confines of his already turbulent headspace. 

Caranthir finally felt the need to intercede. 

'It all makes sense now; all of it. Atar's strange behavior, and why he wouldn't give up the gems. The only reason he wanted to craft sources of light in the first place was because of his visions'

That seemed to grab Fingolfin's attention. 

'What visions?'

Caranthir looked genuinely surprised by the inquiry. 

'You didn't know uncle?' 

'Know what nephew? Please, tell me'

Caranthir pursed his lips and tightened his grip on the armrests before continuing. 

'It was before I reached my majority, but Atar always told Amme that he was having visions of needing to craft a source of light that would sustain our people should something ever happen to the trees'

No...no say it isn't so..

I didn't know....

Fingolfin looked like he'd been struck as the elf broke into a cold sweat. 

'Did-Did my brother know the trees would be destroyed?!'

Caranthir calmly shook his head.

'No, I don't think the visions were ever that detailed-'

Certainly not like Maeglin's foresight (Not foresight🤭)

'-He said it was more like an urge he could never get rid of. An itch he couldn't scratch. At times he said it was like his hands ached until the thought of crafting the Silmarils appeared in his mind's eye. It was only after the gems were forged did the feelings cease'

The weight of this new information slammed into them like a hurricane. 

It was a warning. 

A foretelling of dire times. 

A prediction of darkness soon to come; one that many failed to heed!

Atar crafted the Silmarills to bring forth hope for our people, but it all went wrong because Morgoth got to him. Atar was vulnerable and Morgoth used it!

'This cannot be, this just just cannot be. This-this could have all been avoided! How did I not see it?! Fëanaro never did anything without a reason. This is all my fault; if I had just realized it sooner!' mentally wailed Fingolfin as his eyes misted over with unshed tears. The guilt from failing to protect his brother rushed through their bond like the currents of a great river. 

Even if you did; it was already too late. 

How could we have hoped to heal Atar of what Mandos could not. 

Had we known then the intricacies of Atar's injury; I doubt Lord Manwë would have deigned to procure the means for his healing. No, he probably would have just condemned Atar to Mandos along with Haruni. 

Lómion said it himself; the only other being that could have helped him was....oh my goodness. 

Then there's the validation that the gems were in fact cursed.

Cursed to do what exactly?? (You don't wanna know...👀)

I shudder to learn how that child grew familiar with these types of ailments (....oooh ⚆_⚆...more familiar than you think..eight times to be exact....cough...cough...horcruxes)

'Why did it have to be him? Why did my grandson have to see something so horrific?? Look what fixing it has done to him! This isn't right. He's just a boy; he's only an elfling. Why did my little grandson have to right the wrongs of those that were supposed to protect us??' (Eru has lectured them for that😒)

Curufin audibly scoffed, but a warning glare from Maedhros promptly shut him up. 

'Protect us? Oh they've done a fine job of that haven't they. Never again will I ever consider them allies. No, now we see first hand how warped is the nature of their help. Twas never truly our safety they considered a priority. Had that been the case they would have never let that thing out without restraint. Had they deigned to know the ways of our people, none would have been made to suffer the consequences of their blunders. If they truly cared for our people and our opinions than they would have never doomed those that had done no wrong. Don't think me blind to the innocents that perished because of that doom! I can understand us being punished but children?! They don't care for our hearts or minds! All they seek is blind servitude!' spat the smith with sheer disgust. 

His anger is justified. 

Their help is conditional at best.

They claim to love the children yet have harmed us in ways uncounted (They're very sorry ╯︿╰).

They don't understand us and never tried (They'll do better now😢)

Haru moved our people to Valinor for safety; not to have it brought right to our doors.

They didn't keep their word (They didn't understand they gave one😥).

'You know the worst part about all of it. The part I can't nor will forgive-'

They all looked to the smith with naught but sympathy as the nér still shook from anger laced with grief. 

'-The worst part is that I know they wouldn't have apologized nor bothered to admit their own wrongs. You were all there in the Máhanaxar. That blank-faced Doomsman knew our haru had been murdered, and they did nothing! Had that tree-loving Valie gotten her way; they'd have broken the Silmarils and never apologized for hurting Atar either.'

There was a dangerous edge in Curufin's voice; a gleam in his eyes so sharp it could have felled a mountain. 

This was a side to Curufin he never wanted to show his family. This was a ruthless elf that very rarely forgave those that had wronged him. A raging furnace of deadly flame hidden deep within a man that wanted nothing more than to hide such innate ruthlessness from his gentle hearted son. Curufin was known to be a cunning strategist for a reason. He could be cruel, but only when the occasion called for it. Lest he risk judgment from those that would otherwise condemn such behavior. 

Tis no wonder he wanted Tyelpe out of the room. 

No parent wants their child to see them like this. 

'The part I can't stand and what sets a fierce fire in my soul is that had they done it. That ignorant elder king, Manwë Súlimo, would have just claimed it to be part of their precious song' hissed the smith with naught but venom as his steely silver eyes cast a fell light upon his audience. One that promised he would make the lord of the Ainur answer for this affront. 

Not till the world was remade would Curufin Fëanorian ever forgive the Valar for wronging their family (They've lost their trust for good😞). 

The weight of Curufin's rant stretched and threatened to consume their very beings. Fëanor's fifth son finally reached the limits of his restraint as the sounds of sizzling reached their ears; a small billow of smoke now accompanying the noise. 

Maedhros rose from his seat and slowly took Curufin into his arms. Uncaring of the heat; the eldest held their sibling as the nér struggled to simmer down the roaring flames of his spirit. Curufin didn't push Maedhros away, and just accepted the comfort with a sigh. 

They haven't done this in a long while. 

Curufin has ever long sought to be a source of strength for his son. 

Once a parent, one is hardly ever given time to seek comfort like a child themselves. 

Caranthir, who'd become the undesignated overseer of this meeting, once more redirected everyone's focus to what needed to be addressed. 

'I share in your anger Curvo, but for all the rage you feel it seems the Valar may be paying for their actions already. I'm still reeling from how Lómion went after them with such outright aggression' 

'Aggression? Aggression?! He threatened to destroy the Máhanaxar!' (Wreck it like a chew toy😅) spluttered the heart father of said elfling that'd nonchalantly confessed to their transgressions. 

Fingon squeaked through their bond. Quite the noise to be hearing from the crown prince. 

'I can't believe he did that' 

Then admitted to it with a smile on his face (Harry ain't scared of them😏)

I really need to have a word with him about this behavior. (It's not gonna help, sorry Dadlor 🤷‍♀️).

'Really Findekáno? You can't believe your nephew did something most would otherwise deem mad?' 

'Do not compare my rescue of Russo to this Carnistir. I did not go and threaten the Doomsman in his own home?!'

He really did that; Eru Ilúvatar he really did that 😵‍💫 (And with vigor😇)

None of them expected to hear uproarious laughter erupt in all their heads.

'Hahahahahaha; he really did. Our sweet little nephew even threatened to flatten his accursed halls hahahahaha. Did you hear when he said Atar saw the whole thing? Hahahahaha, justice at last!' (Yeah, he laughed his head off(¬‿¬)). 

'Hold your tongue you fool! None of this is funny Tyelko!' 

'Of course it is! He told off that presumptuous Mandos and got away with it! Hahaha- AGH!' 

The annoying laughter stopped when Celegorm Fëanorian was harshly struck in the gut by none other than the same elf that not long ago punched him in the jaw. Sadly, it did little to wipe the smug smirk off Celegorm's face. 

'Be quiet you idiot! Are you trying to get us slain!' 

'Oh please brother, if we were in so much trouble then that arrogant Eönwë would be here by now'

As much as I hate to admit it he's right. 

If that stuck up turkey dares show his face here I will end him. 

If that horrid, doll-faced mindless mutt dares threaten my son I will jab the nearest fork right into his eye (Oh dang😳).

Vivid irritation coursed through their bond as the mere mention of Manwë's herald elicited a bad taste in all their mouths; even Fingolfin's.

'I never liked him; I really didn't'

'Really Uncle? What'd he do to make you mad?'

'He was always so rude. Among the other maiar he was most unsettling. Even the Vanyar didn't speak to him on account of how....arrogant he came off. You couldn't have a conversation with that one. It always seemed like it wasn't safe to talk to him'

Not without risking said words being parroted right back to his precious lord. 

'He also spoke badly of your father at times'

Maglor heard Maedhros' jaw clench.

'Oh really?' 

'Yes nephew. I did try to stop him, but he made it clear he didn't like your father on account of his obsession with the Silmarils'

An obsession that stemmed from Atar damaging his fëa. An ailment they failed to notice and would have shamelessly worsened. 

They misconstrued everything and yet dare call themselves 'wise' teachers. 

Accursed hypocrites!

'Uncle, I apologize for interrupting but we need to discuss the matter at hand. At this point I think we've all garnered a guess as to how Lómion is able to do all this'

None spoke through the bond, but what they were assuming leaked through. For now none could deny the truth staring them in the face. Surprisingly it was Celegorm that spoke first, and as he did there was a finality in his words. One that brokered absolutely no arguments. 

'Lómion is Irissë's child'

Caranthir cautiously eyed his brother who looked exceedingly blank. Maglor could not fault him for his caution; for he was well versed with the tendencies of the dangerous predator before them. Among their house, Celegorm could become quite vicious when pushed to his limits. 

The worst we ever saw of his temper was the day he left Lord Oromë's hunt. 

I don't know what happened, but it's been deemed taboo to ever speak of it.

'Tyelko no one is disputing that, but the fact remains. He even admitted to it; in a sense'

He said he summoned them...his friends.

Friends he no doubt knew from a life long past. 

The incarnations of them at least. Even then they were strong. So unyielding in spirit that they answered his plea for help. 

They came to aid strangers when their spirits had no doubt long passed beyond the bounds of the living world.

Whoever they were....they're incredible. 

But the doe was different....the look Lómion bore from the mere mention of her could only mean one thing. 

If she's who I think she was then it's no wonder the boy broke to pieces. 

Still doing something like that....seeing those long gone only to lose them again would have killed any other elf.

A regular eldar would have already faded from such pain, but he didn't.

Thus the only explanation...

Finally Maglor spoke his piece. 

'To be honest I've long suspected it'

All turned to look at him. 

'After that night, my suspicions were confirmed. He's so different, but not in a bad way of course. It's just...at times his demeanor doesn't match his physical stature. You've all seen how his mannerisms suddenly shift when he gets serious. We know it's possible for a soul to be granted another life; for it was once offered to our grandmother. It's not implausible to think it could have happened again beyond our knowledge. It would most certainly explain his power. It radiates in his fëa like a beacon. This power couldn't have come from just being a part-maia. Were that the case we would have heard some semblance of such happenings occurring with Princess Luthien; yet we haven't. Neither of Thingol's children can do what he does; this is unique to him. All these habits; the words he speaks. At times he says things in a language I've never heard of. He doesn't even notice that at times his voice garners a strange accent. These ideas he tries to give shape; I don't think they're things he's just came up with. I believe he may be attempting to replicate things he's-'

He stopped midsentence as he warily turned to Fingolfin. The nér only smiled at him. 

'It's alright nephew, speak freely. He is still my grandson and will forever be. No matter the truth, I'll never stop loving him'

Uncle..

Maglor took a deep breath before steadying himself. 

'I think it feasible to presume that he's using powers and ideas he's seen before'

In another life, as another person. 

Though what life could that have been?

What people could harness such abilities? (Wizards🤭).

The whole room released a breath they'd been holding. 

'But...what was he?'

'Finno?'

'Don't misunderstand me Russo. He is my nephew, my sister-son and will forever be. However, if what cousin Makalaurë says is true then what in Arda was he before-'

Before becoming a member of our family and near uprooting everything we thought to be written in stone 🤦.

'A fair question, as it would certainly explain how he was able to supposedly supersede Mandos' authority over our Dooms. I must say he holds quite the interesting title' 

Caranthir's words stopped them all in their tracks. 

Master of Death..

The Master of Death???? (What a title😅)

'Master of Death. I don't even know what to think of that'

It certainly doesn't sound gentle upon first hearing it. 

If anything you'd think someone with that title would be kin to the Fëanturi. (... (⊙ˍ⊙) ....yeah....about that...⚆_⚆....pfft).

But that's not possible, yet here he is bearing power over the Masters of Spirits. 

Ugh.

'How in Arda did that boy procure such a unique title anyway?' (He certainly didn't ask for it🤦‍♀️)

A title that apparently grants him the ability to spit in the Valar's faces (They're so confused🤭). 

'Well he said the title comes with symbols of his authority. What did he call them again? The dead hails?'

'The deathly hallows you idiot' 

'Don't call me an idiot Moryo!'

'I will when you stop acting like one'

'Enough, both of you!' 

'Don't get mad at me Nelyo. Speaking of which, he said you wore one of them. Well? What did it feel like?'

Yes, the cloak that gave them all endless migraines. 

Sneaky pigeon. 

For a supposed artifact meant to symbolize unprecedented power; he otherwise treats the thing like a toy (I abstain from commenting on that👀).

Maedhros looked pensive for a moment. He visibly blinked before carefully thinking of what to say.

'It felt strange. I didn't feel myself vanish, but rather something shroud my very existence. Twas like a veil had come over not myself, but those around me' 

That's....unsettling. 

'Well strange feelings aside, I must admit it's certainly a fine piece of embroidery. Whoever made it didn't withhold any effort into it's craftsmanship'

I imagine not given it can supposedly sneak you into Mandos unseen.

....Oh my goodness....I'm actually entertaining such thoughts. 

'This is so ridiculous..' muttered none other then Curufin. The sibling that'd finally calmed down after becoming a living forge. 

'What is brother?'

'....He saved Atar'

The words struck them like lightening. 

Maglor shook a little bit, as tears once more threatened to fall. 

oh..

'He saved Atar. Lómion, our little nephew healed the fëa of the one nér everyone in the world hates'

'Curufinwë I do not hate your father! He was my brother! Even after he pointed a sword at me; I still did not hate him. Please nephew, believe that'

Curufin looked at Fingolfin with a tired face, but surprised everyone when he gave their uncle an honest smile. 

'Would you had said that before I would have not believed it. But...now I do. I believe you uncle, and I know you don't hate him either cousin. I know this may be late, but the truth is...I never hated either of you either' said the simmered down smith as he shyly looked away from the two elves giving him such heartened looks.

Curvo...

'Yet be that as it may, the truth still stands. The rest of the eldar, even the remnants of our kin detest our father with a passion. No one and I mean no one would have bidden themselves the time to see through all the tales of evil spun by bloodshed and prejudice. Not even our house's beloved Artanis' said Curufin with naught but evident disdain; especially the last part. 

Maglor couldn't help but ask.

'Curvo I suspect there's more to those words. Why did you suddenly bring her up?'

The nér humorlessly snorted.

'She hates us Kano, but tis only now I see to what extent. Honestly, it's been on my mind since we first learned she wed Thingol's nephew, and told none of such a happy occasion. I'm not fool enough to think that wasn't intentional. No, this is merely the hint to the clue that has long eluded us. With the depths of Lómion's kindness brought before mine eyes I see who are our true allies, and who with shared blood would otherwise leave us to be torn apart'

'Cousin, what do you mean?'

'What I mean cousin, is that given our last discussion, if someway or somehow Thingol did procure a Silmaril. We must then ask ourselves what events could have escalated the situation to result in another kinslaying. If Artanis was already there in Doraith, and held means to address the situation; what went wrong? She is Thingol's niece by law so how would she have not held some amount of sway over his decisions? Why did Lómion feel it necessary to step in, do the unthinkable, and prevent tragedy from striking? Artanis knows of our oath and what could have come from it. She knows full well the implications of what withholding a Silmaril from us could have meant. So now here are the relevant questions we must ask ourselves. Why didn't Artanis attempt to get it back to us? Why didn't she try to set us free? Why didn't she do anything?'

Something sharp stabbed Maglor's heart. 

It felt like a needle, prickling & piercing; yet also burning with a pain he wished to know not it's meaning.  

He's right...

Had she played any role in aiding us Lómion would have mentioned it.

Yet it's clear he dislikes her for some reason or another (Rude Legilimens 🙄)

'Nephew-'

Curufin stopped him.

'I saw her after we boarded the boats and made sail. I saw her standing on the piers surrounded by her dead kin. I'm not excusing my actions, and I know she has every right to hate us. But there was something else in her eyes. Something dangerous and full of vengeance. She told Thingol about Alqualondë, wed without telling anyone, and has made clear who she would side with should the choice be between our house and her ambitions. Right now the Artanis of Uncle Finarfin's house would see us doomed by our old oath. Even if she were to learn the kinslaying was not willingly done by our father. Even if she heard the truth behind the machinations that led to all the tragedy. Do you think she'd care? No, she'd just make up some excuse of why she's right and we're wrong. I know it to be a fact she hardly even speaks to her siblings. She claims Atar had darkness in him, but she is not so innocent. She's ambitious, and left Valinor to seek her own realm'

Fingolfin's feelings of unease had all eyes trailing back to him. Their uncle looked well and truly torn as he clenched his fist in his lap. 

'I was aware of her feelings to an extent when we crossed the Helcaraxë. At the time I felt myself no right to speak with her on the subject. But nephew what you speak of is-'

'Very unelvish I imagine. Elves don't typically turn on each other, especially not your own blood. Yet here we all are. Our loyalties and friendships have been tested uncle. We know who we can and can't trust; at least with certain information. If you still hold doubts then let me put this into perspective. I happen to know for a fact Artanis doesn't favor the edain very much'

That got their attention. So much so Fingon actually spluttered. 

'Wait what? How do you know that?'

Curufin shrugged his shoulders. 

'Findaráto told me when last I went hunting with him. It was around the time his brother was infatuated with that Dorthonion lord's daughter. He sought my council on whether or not he should seek his sisters thoughts on the matter, but eventually decided against it. Apparently he was a bit worried about what she would do should she come to learn a time limited edain sought to wed one of the firstborn'

Yes, the edain Aegnor is now wed to.

I have nothing against it, and wish him the best. 

But the direction of this conversation brings me strange unease. 

'Why would he be worried about Artanis' reaction?'

Curufin blinked at Maedhros as he lounged back in the chair. The nér was playing with his thumbs in an attempt to cool himself off from the last remnants of his rage session before answering. It didn't escape everyone's notice when the smith warily eyed Caranthir.

'When the people of Haleth first came to the Forests of Brethil. Artanis didn't speak up for them, and rather counseled against having them being so close to elven lands'

Naturally, Caranthir didn't like that one bit; in fact his brow produced an irate twitch. 

'She said what'

Can't say I'm surprised he's furious. 

Carnistir made no secret his admiration towards their chieftain, Lady Haleth.

Twas one of the rare instances I'd ever seen him impressed with anyone. 

'Yes, it would seem she thought them a threat given their penchant for violence. She also didn't see a point of elves and men mingling given their death would come too swift for them to thrive'

I'm surprised she didn't fight with Finrod on that (They did actually👀). 

His favor for the secondborn is known all across Beleriand. 

I'm still livid that careless fool walked right into their camp and started playing his harp for them (He's a pacifist😁)

'Luckily, since Finrod was the eldest, his council won out within Thingol's court. Contrary to her brother, it seems Artanis doesn't value the lives of edain the same way she values the lives of the eldar. I wouldn't be surprised if she's developed some bad habits from being around the Doriathrim'

Like how they aim arrows at innocent unarmed elves or anyone else they deem 'lesser.'

Then there's the confirmation she's supposedly studying under Queen Melian and strengthening her mind abilities. 

She was arrogant about that even before we left Valinor; by now she'll be insufferable.

Rather than speak to people, she always deferred to listening in on unshielded thoughts. 

Lómion's not gonna like this one bit (No he's not).

Caranthir was really fuming now; evidenced when a section of the armrest splintered from the ferocity of his grip. 

'Why thatlittle'

'What point are you trying to make Curvo? Do you actually fear Artanis may have tried to kill the Lady Andreth'

She wouldn't dare..

What something like that would have done to her brother..

Curufin rolled his eyes. 

'Relax Nelyo; I don't think she would have actually tried to harm her. Although, I wouldn't put it passed her to subtly warn the lady away from her dear brother'

Somehow that doesn't sound much better. 

Especially when one considers how Finrod made the excuse that elves don't wed during war time. 

Yet look at Artanis, wedding behind everyones back (No one is innocent of that ~_~ )

'You can't be serious. I am ally to the edain of Dor-lómin, and am personal friend to Lord Hador. Do you know how many times I have been blessed to hold one of their young? I have fought alongside them, eaten at their tables, and I can say firsthand that none of them are lesser or any of that other nonsense. What is this obsession with lifespan or whatever; it isn't as though our kin aren't susceptible to death. Where is this drivel even coming from?' said Fingon with the very strength he carried into battle. 

Never let it be said that Fingon the Valiant won't defend his people; be they first or secondborn.

'Where do you think it's coming from cousin. Curvo and I have heard nothing but such whispers from any elves passing through Aglon. The Doriathrim nobility preach it on a near daily basis. It wouldn't surprise me that part of the reason Finrod left Doriath was to get away from those pretentious upstarts. They hardly even show the dwarves any respect when they come to trade their wares'

I'm shocked they even still trade with them. 

Or that someone hasn't swung an axe at them by now (Careful what you wish for👀)

Fingolfin audibly sighed 'Yet another source of troubles for the already growing list. It does not sit well that we must now exercise more caution when it be our own blood'

'You think I like this?' grumbled Curufin as he slouched back in his chair. 

'Regardless, aside from everyone here. No one can find out about Lómion's title. Not even our seconds; unless it be deemed under the most dire of circumstances. If people find out he threatened the Ainur, and supposedly.....ugh did so with no consequence; there'll be an uproar. Then there's his supposed dominion over death itself, and right to overrule Mandos' dooms. This power is not one to be boasted or otherwise made subject to reckless scorn. Our little nephew never even told Turukáno about it, because he already knew how he'd react. Lómion trusted us with this information because he has faith in us, and I have no intention to let him down' he said with steadfastness which soon deflated; mostly on account of the flicker that just sparked through his familial bonds. 

Nobody missed Caranthir's visible twitch. 

...uh oh (Now you've done it😬)

Maybe I shouldn't have said that last part.

Too late to regret now, because he'd already pulled the trigger.

"Now that we've settled what I was brought here for. I believe it time to address a certain matter that's long been delayed. Especially given....recent developments" sweetly said their uncle while a fake smile played on his face. 

Maglor felt tendrils of terror coil around his heart, especially given their uncle chose to speak with his actual voice.

So much for avoiding property damage (You think he'd learn by now🤷)

"Maitimo" said Fingolfin as he slowly turned to their eldest brother like an unblinking serpent ready to strike. 

This was too familiar for comfort (Run😬, run you fool!)

Maglor heard his brother gulp before composing himself. 

"Yes, uncle?" 

"Who is this impudent half-wit Pengelodh?" spoke their uncle with an innocent looking tilt of his head; the eerie smile still there and no less frightening. 

A vile embarrassment to all elven kind. 

Some flippant plebian I will take the utmost delight in hanging from the rafters.

The query was met with an audible groan "He's a scribe & loremaster that used to serve under King Ingwë-"

Hmph, that explains a bit. 

"-when Atar was still crown prince. Soon after Morogth was released, he changed allegiances and chose to serve Turukáno. For what reasons I know not, but rumors spoke of how his literal accuracy was being questioned by Valimar's guildmasters-"

Hah! I wonder why. 

"-Following that he took to pledging loyalty to our house,-"

You mean to the fool that blindly believed his baseless rubbish. 

"-and defected to Gondolin along with the others"

The minute their brother stopped speaking a merciless chill slithered through their bond. Maglor could tell Caranthir was very well on the verge of sprinting out the room. By now the dark eyed elf's gaze was nailed to their uncle like a deer waiting to be shot. 

All watched with ill-hidden suspense as their uncle's head went straight again. The smile still there and if anything got minutely wider.

"Hmm...I see. His service to the Vanyar would certainly explain a few things; they were lenient to a fault at times. Though I suppose I might have worded my question wrong. My apologies for that; allow me to amend my mistake" said the High King with a sweet voice steeped in poison. 

Curufin didn't look so carefree anymore. 

'Kano..sh-should we...leave?'

'No Curvo, we wouldn't even get far; stay down' (Go for the window 🪟; it's not too late!)

The audience stayed still; none dared speak when Nolofinwë Finwion finally made the magnitude of his displeasure known. 

"What I mean to say nephew, is why is that parasite still alive?"

COUGH! 0_o 

(Well, I tried🤷; every man for themselves! *runs and jumps out the window*)

"Atar?!" 

"Ex-excuse me?? Uncle, you know we can't-"

"Can't kinslay? Oh yes I'm aware, but is it considered murder if one is 'accidentally' left to be eaten by wargs in a failed scouting mission?" said their uncle with such sweetness it left them all gaping. 

His brothers were shocked.

'Did he just?'

'Woah'

'I never thought he'd...'

'Haha so it finally happened'

'I mean...is it considered kinslaying?' (Yes it is, you idiot😠).

(On the top of Taniquetil, Varda Elentári's brows shot up as she proceeded to make haste in warning the Doomsman about a prospective & volatile new charge. One he most certainly did not want!)

"Atar, Atar please be reasonable!" near pleaded Fingon as he grabbed his father's arm. 

"Reasonable yonya? Are you truly telling me you're not furious to hear our kin was made to hear such treasonous slander from some twig that would better serve as orc bait!" 

😨

I don't like this side of Uncle! (Sorry, he's always been like this😅)

I want the reasonable elf back! (He's on permanent vacation 🏖)

"Of course I'm angry Atar! I don't care how you punish him, just don't kill him! It'd only end in your doom" reasoned his cousin with a creased brow and obvious disregard for the elf in question. 

(In the great library of Gondolin, within the Tower of the King, Loremaster Pengelodh froze where he stood when a shadow of impending doom suddenly assailed his hröa like a venomous viper. The screeches that followed rattled the windows)

"After finding out all this nonsense; I'm almost tempted to be disembodied just so I can have a word with that so called keeper of souls" seethed the High King through grit teeth. 

I think said Doomsman has had just about enough of our house (He even has a sign that says '⚠️Keep out!')

"Yonya, I have been a tolerant and patient King to our people-"

You were; until you scared everyone half to death by ripping up trees, slaughtering orc hordes, and rampaging through the woods like some kind of wraith! (You poked the bear 😬)

People called you a feral madman after that spectacle. 

"-But my benevolence runs out when some knave thinks he can insult my family, and shamelessly get away with it. Had someone dared speak such trash before me; I'd have already hwen them in half" 

I'm starting to wonder who has the worse temper; you or Atar? (Good question🤔)

"That is why for the life of me I cannot come to understand why my son did not silence that rat" (Turgon said he'd 'handle' it🤦, Oy vye🙄)

Because Turukáno has little to no experience in dealing with confrontations. 

Even when he did it was never handled without unbiased view. 

I have no doubt that had it been Itarillë being slandered; he'd have ended them. 

By Eru, I'm almost tempted to stop digging into this. This is beyond exhausting already. 

"I don't know what to tell you Atar. He is my brother and yet I feel like I know him not anymore. Not him or most of who I once called friends" woefully said their cousin as the nér slumped his forehead against his father's arm. 

An gesture that seemed to placate the fuming elder as he now held his son. 

They were all saved from further dooming discussions when a knock came from the door, and in came-

"Oh; Pityo, Telvo? What brings you back?"

"Lómion wanted to see how everyone was doing. He said he picked up on Uncle's temper flaring" 

Maglor swore he heard his uncle mutter a curse under his breath. 

Well this is embarrassing; not once but twice now. 

I'm starting to question my capabilities as a parent (You are a very good father😌)

"Here you go cousin. Tyelpe just fed him some fresh sugar water" said Amrod with a chortle as he handed Fingon the tiny bird perched on just his finger. 

Their little hummingbird still looked dazed from his long nap. Tiny eyes still blearily closed as the remnants of sleep yet abated. Maglor almost crooned when he heard the adorable thing let out a tired yawn. 

"Meeeep"

Fingon warmly chuckled at the sight. 

"Well good morning to you too nephew" said Fingon as he happily ran a finger over Lómion's feathered head. 

'Hmmm morning. Everything..*yawn*..good?'

How can someone be a troublemaker and the incarnation of adorable all at once?

"Haha yes nephew; all is well. Now as much as I find this form of yours to be cute-"

Maglor's mind picked up on a quiet grumble. 

'Hmph I'm not cute; it's just this animagus is small'

Whatever you say my little heart son 😌

Fingon seemingly heard that, and covered his mouth to stiffle any oncoming laughter. 

"Of course nephew. However, I think it's time to be returning to an elf now. You need some proper food in you. No arguments little one for I will be most sad should you deny me the chance to take care of you" spoke Fingon with faux remorse as he eyed the little bird with a playful glint in his eye. 

Before Lómion could respond; Fingon swiftly pecked the little bird's head. A show of affection Maglor had many a time seen him do for his sister and baby brother Argon. 

Surprisingly though....it would seem Lómion had never been subjected to such endearing bouts of affection before. 

At least not as a hummingbird. 

For as soon as Fingon had done it, the little hummingbird's eyes shot wide open. The abrupt awakening soon accompanied by a startled "Meep!"

Fingon looked a bit worried until-

"Poof!"

The little bird turned into a literal puff of feathers. 

The whole room erupted into joyful laughter. Their nephew, who always puts up an adult-like image, just -blew up- from bashful embarrassment. Maglor laughed harder when he heard the little thing let out scathing "meeps." 

'Ugh😖! Stop laughing it's not funny!'

Celegorm laughed so hard he fell out of his seat. 

All in all, twas not a bad way to greet the new day. 

Over a decade passed since that conversation, and by now Maglor Fëanorian had deemed Maeglin Lómion the trouble child of Finwë's whole house. Not that it made him love the boy any less. If anything since proclaiming the truth to his family members, the two had become closer than ever before. Following Fingolfin's return to his keep, albeit reluctantly, Maglor had taken to watching over Lómion while he slept until his new bed was ready. Maglor had ordered, without missing a beat, that Maeglin's old sheets were to be burned in a blaze so hot, not even the ashes would survive. Any trace of that horrid week was to be banished from his keep without mercy. Under no circumstances, was Maglor going to allow his son to sleep in that pigsty! He also made clear, that the child's room was to be cleaned and scrubbed till not even a speck of dust remained. 

No one argued or ever questioned his decision. 

They knew full well the reason for his actions and if anything, at times, deemed them to be insufficient. Not only did Maeglin's fellow smiths hardly ever let the boy out of their sight, but they also took to taking on most of his workload and supervising his tasks with no small amount of scrutiny. Maglor was never going to forget the day that little rabbit tried to sneak into the forge (He wasn't sneaking😅) or how Erestor scared him off with his famous smile. 

Oh how that fork tongued serpent laughed when he reported the startled complexion of his mischievous prince.

Then again...Erestor isn't the only elf that's taken to watching over that boy given his startling penchant for getting himself into trouble (Oh Dadlor....you have no idea🙄)

Following the completion of Maeglin's new furniture, some of the cleaning staff even went as far as incorporating dry lavender petals into Lómion's freshly sewn pillows.

Maglor took note of the soothing scent whenever he snuck a lullaby to Lómion as he slept. 

Oftentimes I woke to a rabbit curled up in my lap.

Haha, sneaky mouse.

That wasn't the only thing he did of course. Following the end of Lómion's week long bout of isolation. Maglor had ordered, with no small degree of vigor, that Maeglin was to submit to daily health checks. Máriel, now the prince's personal healer, would examine Maeglin and ensure that no signs of fading yet lingered. After facing defeat at the hands of an enchanted door, the nís was hell-bent on making sure Maeglin stayed healthy. 

She even went so far as to write out an exuberant meal plan for him. 

Though I find it strange she couldn't sense that raging energy within his fëa anymore (Eru's hiding it😏)

I certainly still can, but then again what do I know about par-maia.....sigh. 

Willingly blind to the child's pouting, Maglor supported Máriel in every decision regarding Lómion's health. It was only a decade after the incident that Maglor -reluctantly- capitulated to having it to dwindled to once a week. 

After all, this was the least he could do given Erestor had barely managed to stave off a coup. Turned out the former thralls were not happy to learn their prince was on the cliffs edge of fading (He wasn't fading! Gah!🤯). Naturally, they all thought it his fault and only quelled their fury after Erestor spent hours explaining to them what really happened. None were told of Lómion's title nor of his ability to summon the vestiges of friends he once knew. It was explained, with no small degree of pride, that their prince had used his powers to save the souls of the first elves left abandoned by Morgoth's cruelty. The sadness, empathy, and power expended to save them being the true culprit to their prince's week long retreat. 

Everyone was awe-struck. 

Any remaining doubts to his maiaran heritage dissipated, as Maglor's respect for the Valar. 

Then again, there never really was much doubt given all the stunts Lómion's pulled. 

It wasn't an exaggeration to say their respect for their savior now reached immeasurable heights. Not just the former thralls, but even the regular elves of his keep. He wasn't blind to the copious amounts of food on Maeglin's plate following the incident. Nor the multitude of eyes watching over their kind but reckless prince. If anything people were starting to get upset they couldn't call the boy by his title. 

None knew of what truly happened to the first elves. Twas a long mystery that only carried the weight of darkness and evil unmatched. When the revelation of their fates finally came to light; some quite frankly needed time to recover from the shock. It was a horror worse than what they'd allowed to their imagination. None were told of the Valar's negligence in helping those souls, but that didn't stop people from coming up with their own theories. 

Maglor and his brothers never knew their people could have such colorful language (Varda ain't liking what she's hearing😅).

Naturally, all the elves of their territories now knew the identity and power held by their prince. Not just their people, but also their uncle's.

A secret could only be held so long as the subject of said secret does his part. 

One really has to wonder what manner of people lacked so much subtlety (Wizards were subtle...ish?)

Whatever race he once belonged certainly had a penchant for dramatics (Can't even argue that👀)

At least our plan to introduce him to Fingolfin's court certainly worked, albeit accompanied by chaos the size of the entire Ered Gorogorth. 

Aye Eru, the barrier! Lómion, what were you thinking! (He thought it'd be fine😇)

Then those little mice had the audacity to think they could sneak off?! Hah!

Oh I don't think so 😑

A lot had happened following the revelation; so much that Maglor was not only doomed to forever be on stomach medicine, but now bore a twitch in his right eye whenever he got worked up. 

Oh..and how I recall what finally caused that to become the norm.

Life certainly has a way of making strange things happen. 

Hence why he was now-

"Are you sure he ate his snack?" he spoke with obvious doubt as he eyed the huge beast before him. 

*huff huff grunt* (Little foal eat, I see)

"Then he also had the cheese and olives I packed for him" he took to arching a brow as the full armor he wore softly clinked. 

*neeeeiigh* (Yes, silly metal man)

Maglor huffed as he scanned the black mare before him with blatant skepticism. Said mare that stood two heads taller than him!

Oh how I look right now. 

Well, it's not like anything in my life has made sense as of late 🙄.

Getting into a debate with a savage equine while garbed in full mithril armor should rank at the bottom of the ever-growing list of oddities that is now my life. 

Fuintal, the offspring of the black despair Neomíre, was just as brutal as his sire. Of course, such a reputation could be deemed questionable in the face of the elfling he'd adopted as his own. 

It vexed Maglor to no end that Lómion believed this creature to be gentle, when Maglor had personally seen this buffed out brute mow down several orcs like helpless daisies. 

Don't think I've forgotten the number of times you almost bit the stablehand's fingers off you beast!

"Fine, I'll believe you; for now at least" he huffed as his gaze wandered to the sleeping elfling in the stable. Said child that was flanked by several other crossbreeds taking a midday nap. 

Ah, I see he's using the blanket I gave him.

Winter is not long from now.

Fuintal took notice of his worries. 

*Whinny huff snort* (No worry metal man, we keep foal safe)

"Oh I have no doubt" he crossed his arms as he turned back to the black mare with the streak of white on his muzzle.

*Neeeeeyyy! HUFF * (Stomp! Stomp! Crush all danger to foal)

Yes, I have no question of your ability to trample enemies like grass. 

"Also, stop scaring the stable hands when they bring your hay"

The mare just grunted and let out a loud whinny. It then stomped its hoofs on the ground in clear defiance. 

Maglor knew how to play this game. 

"If you do it again I'll tell the little foal you're misbehaving 🎶 " he said with an evil smirk. 

The horse stopped in its tracks. Raised ears swiftly fell as it responded to Maglor's threat with a mutinous look. 

*huff huff grunt* (Metal man wouldn't dare)

"Really want to test me on that? Our peace treaty clearly details your compliance. You get to see Lómion so long as you and your herd remain amicable to the other residents of this keep. That includes not harming the elves coming to feed you. If you can behave yourself when ploughing a field then you can do so in your own home (Burn!🤣)" he pointedly remarked as he held his position with a princely stance.

The mare still glared at him, but eventually bobbed its head in acquiescence before petulantly trotting back to the stable. 

Maglor tiredly sighed as he removed his helm. Sunlight filtered through the trees as he eyed his son one last time before heading back to his keep. 

Now, I must negotiate peace with horses. 

Aye, what a world. 

Then again I suppose it's better than the times these beasts attacked anything that moved. 

His walk back to his home was a peaceful one. The sky was clear and the sun shined with a cheerful radiance. He heard birds chirping with one young thrush taking to perching on his shoulder. It tweeted a happy "good morning" to him before flitting off to go about its day. The trees were in the process of changing colors, and with a relaxed stride Maglor saw some of his people laying on the leaf covered ground while munching on some snacks. 

People were chatting away and lounging in the sun while basking in the bountiful nature around them. 

He even saw some elleths making ready to take a ride around the forest. 

Just yesterday, some scouts mentioned there was one spot south of the Gap, along the south eastern borders of Thargelion, that housed a babbling brook. A perfect spot for enjoying a nice picnic. 

Yes, twas a beautiful day. 

If anyone heard him say any of this; they'd have thought he'd gone crazy.

The Northern regions, known to be on the borders of Angband, a war torn wasteland housed by elves that bled times uncounted; were now lounging about like they were back in Valinor. 

14 years

It'd been like this for near 14 years, and all because of a certain par-maia that did something even more outrageous. 

Summoning embodiments of light and soaring across the sky was one thing, but doing this was another. Forget the maelstrom caused by the latest agricultural addition to Eä's song!

And didn't that just open up an entire ant hill nobody wanted to dig up. 

Now freed from the feather light metal, Maglor relaxed on the balcony of his office. Harp in hand, he spent a few hours moving his fingers and letting the soothing music fill the air. The melodies came him to him like trickling waters in a creek. Ever flowing to and fro with an aura of peace lifting him to heights uncounted. 

It'd been too long since the hardships of war allowed him to indulge in his craft. 

Yet time meant little to an elf, as the familiarity of composing never abandoned its caretaker. When confident in the songs melodious harmony, he proceeded to hum a song of tranquility and rest. The birds that made home in the neighboring trees seemed to like his newest piece as many soon came to rest on his railing. Some even laid on his shoulders as they listened to the piece with evident approval. One young blue bird even tried to sing with him. Sweet "tweets" and "chirps" rang through the trees as he sang with unhidden joy. 

Maglor loved music, and his elves loved hearing him sing. 

The ones laid in the grass listened with content as the memory of their prince's song brought forth feelings of nostalgia. Some of them even fell asleep as a gentle breeze blew. This went on until the sun began its descent. The song finally reaching its conclusion with a hymn of serenity.

His feathered audience took that as their cue to make leave for their homes, but not before bequeathing the musician some applauding "chirps."

His fingers tingled and a feeling of pride surged through his hröa. 

Oh he loved music. 

The moment was ruined when an audible "cough" sounded behind him. 

One he was all to familiar with. 

Maglor just sighed and trailed his gaze to the elf that spoiled his fun. Erestor received his silent inquiry with a knowing smirk and an arched brow.

Always so serious. 

He put away his harp and motioned his friend to their usual spot; wine already at the ready. 

Both made themselves comfortable. 

"Must you ruin my fun" a knowing brow went up as he eyed the friend that had already filled his glass. Jokes aside, Maglor did take note of the papers in his friend's hand. 

"Perish the thought my lord. I am merely your humble aid who seeks to perform his duties" his friend replied with a now half empty glass and polite undertone.

Maglor didn't buy what Erestor was selling for one minute. 

Humble aid my foot. 

"Tease me not for once will you. Am I not owed some respite to indulge in my craft?" he huffed as he took to filling his own glass. 

Erestor met his eyes with a tinge of nostalgia.

"..Tis been too long since we've heard your music. I must say I am remorse to spoil such times" said Erestor with an honest hint of regret; one that had Maglor almost wishing to take back his words.

"No offense has been done my friend" he said with a small smile. 

"Would that this could last" said Erestor as a grave look now crossed his pale features. 

Yes, but I would not leave our people to become complacent lest we draw forth our own doom.

"We always knew it would end, but for what time we have been given. I know all shall cherish the memory"

Despite the....manner of its execution. The activation of Maeglin's barrier sparked a tidal wave of change to the lives of most of the exiled Ñoldor. For 14 years there had been no orcs, goblins, trolls, or any semblance of foul creatures left to walk about their lands. For over a decade the once doomed Ñoldor knew a time of true peace and splendor. Within the privacy of their own abodes, the exiled elves deemed this period "The breath of serenity." A far cry from the safety granted by "The long peace." Oh no, this was a chapter to history that would forever garner the envy of those never given chance to bask in its splendor. 

Elleths took walks. 

Healers weren't flooded with treating fatal injuries.

Elves were granted time to work on their crafts.

Music and song echoed through the trees. 

Birds and animals thrived in the clean air. 

People could actually run about and dance without the need to carry armor or sword. 

Maglor was shocked he could actually take a walk without needing to listen for footsteps of impending doom.

It was a miracle; a gift like no other. The peace brought forth by this barrier garnered a recess like no other. Not even Melian's Girdle near compared to this. The magic of Melian most certainly did not incinerate orcs upon mere approach. 

That last thought sent a wave of unease through Maglor's heart.

How funny to wield a double edged knife. 

I wish for this to last yet also do not.

"He has a new episse now" said Erestor as he eyed his lord with clear admiration.

Maglor blinked in surprise.

"Pardon?"

"Our prince; to both the elves of Hithlum and all our territories he is known as Yualë Cundu" said Erestor with a wide smile.

Maglor took a deep breath. He felt a surge of parental pride well up in his heart. To be named by ones own people was considered among the greatest proof of respect. Especially given the meaning of the beautiful name. 

Twilight Prince (Ta-da😁!)

"Erestor-"

"In Sindarin it would translate to Tinnu Ernil" 

A magnificent and splendid name. 

"To be fair I may have somewhat played a part in prompting the idea" said the advisor as he shyly looked away. 

Meaning you completely instigated this you badger (He's a troll😇)

Maglor huffed and fondly chucked.

"This was the least we could do given the circumstances my lord. Since our prince still refuses to stand before his people as what he is, that does not mean we cannot give the respect he is owed. This is but a small crumb of the admiration he has amassed. Please try not to dispute the claim my lord; for even High King Nolofinwë has given his most fervent approval of the name" said Erestor as he took another sip of his drink. The wily advisor just looked like he'd won a chest of gold. 

Maglor responded to the sly quip with a look. 

Of course, you conspired with Uncle. 

What a crafty serpent you are. 

But then that brought another idea to mind. One that coincided with the reason for Lómion not formally accepting his title. 

"What did you come to discuss Erestor?" he said as he chose to get straight to the point. Maglor instantly got a bad feeling when he saw an annoyed frown appear. 

Aye Valar, not again.

"We found another mouse" 

Maglor groaned into his hands. 

That brat really just doesn't give up. 

"Again🤨? This is the fourth one" he sighed with sheer frustration. 

"What do you want me to say my lord? Prince Orodreth, seems to have not taken his humbling experience with any ounce of dignity" said Erestor as he shrugged his shoulders. 

Humbling experience? 😑

Is that what we're calling my son committing a mass kidnapping? (Hahahaha🤣)

"Erestor I don't think my cousin would appreciate your wording of his unsought abduction from within the walls of his own tower" he said with clear disapproval. 

Just what idiot remotely implied that kidnapping your own relatives was alright?! (You!😂)

And the little maniac pulled it off in less than a night?! (Wizards are efficient 🪄)

I know he mentioned it, but I hoped he was bluffing! (Should've known better🤭)

Then he goes and magics the remaining residents of Dorthonion out of the area with his voice 😵‍💫!

Does he really think such a spectacle produced no rumors?! 

Of course Tyelpe and Fingon just found the whole thing funny 🤦

Traitors both of them!

Erestor barely suppressed the urge to laugh. So much so he actually had to put the glass down. 

"Frankly my lord, I care not for Prince Orodreth's mueling. He defied an order from the High King, and thus was made to face the punishment for his defiance...pfft" said the advisor as he slapped a hand over his mouth to stiffle the oncoming giggle fit. 

Only you could produce such honeyed words from an otherwise outrageous predicament. 

Uncle drank a whole barrel of Dorwinion after hearing that little Balrog's shameless confession! (Poor guy was out for three days🌙)

As if I don't hate myself enough for having to punish him with an extra century of cleaning all the stables! (So tame😏)

"Hmph, say what you want but by no means do I condone my son engaging in such....activities" he spat as he recalled the typhoon that followed that mess. 

The only blessing was that the idiotic duo were knocked out for two weeks. 

Gave us enough time to come up with an excuse.

....

Albeit one that idiotic whelp still refuses to concede, given this all happened because he just refused to heed Uncle's commands to leave. 

"Truly, one has to wonder where he learned this" said Erestor as he composed himself; a genuine look of contemplation playing in his eyes. 

Who indeed; for when I find out I'll be the first to punch them! (Enjoy your self-inflicted KO 👊😵)

If it was Eöl, I'll send that fool back to Mandos the minute he walks out (He's just as surprised as you😅)

Though....if this happens to stem from whatever race he once belonged....

I really have to wonder of the grayness of their morality...(...ooh👀).

"Anyway, so what happened with this one? Did they scream?" 

Erestor arched a brow at him; one that indicated he just asked a dumb question. 

"Of course they did, every one of them has screamed. The only downside is that this one happened to be particularly loud" 

They couldn't have been louder than me...(You sounded like a Soprano🎶)

"Why's that?" he said as he proceeded to sip his wine. 

"The poor nér is a bard" 

Maglor spit up the wine. 

"What?!"

"Yes, the poor thing is just a simple minstrel with only a handful of training on how to defend himself. He reached the northern edges of the twins territory before he started screaming his head off when he got within the barrier's bounds. The guards found him immediately, and quickly administered the necessary treatment" said Erestor as he heaved a tired sigh. He'd dealt with this so many times it was almost becoming a routine. 

"That spoiled brat had the audacity to send a poor bard half way across Beleriand when we are a mere three months or less from an all out assault" he near seethed as he tapped his fingers against the table. 

"It seems he and Prince Angrod care little for the warnings, and deem them to be an elaborate farce" said Erestor as he braced himself for the imminent tirade. 

Farce? Farce?! 

My son is expending ludicrous amounts of himself to defend us, and they have the gaul to call that a farce?!

Would that I could put that impudent brat over my knee!

Given he continually chooses to act like a child! 

"What is his name?" he said in an attempt to calm himself down.

"His name is Lindir, son of Gelmir"

Maglor's jaw fell.

"Gelmir? Wait, wasn't his son born not even a century after we settled here? That means he's not reached his fifth century" he said with aghast shock. 

Erestor replied with a wince. 

"Really?!"

"I'm afraid so my lord. Worry not, for he's in good hands. The only misfortune is that we cannot send him back to Nargathrond. King Finrod's people were warned of this on account of the oncoming battle" 

When in reality the true reason is that we can't have anyone spreading word about this death barrier!

We'd have had those Doriathrim storming our doors were it to become known to them.

Since orcs were no longer an issue, we spent all of our resources ensuring none of the boundaries were left unguarded. The last thing anyone needed was a repeat of that mad stampede of elves running through the night garbed in just their night-shifts! 

As shameful as it is for us to keep people out, aside from traveling edain that can't sense it, at the very least we did not go and shoot innocent people like heartless savages!

We made every effort to ensure that any wandering elves were given another safe route, as well as abundant supplies. 

Some of Tyelko's hunters even offered to act as escorts! (So polite🤭)

"How did that poor boy even get this far? Does Findaráto know about this?" he said as he struggled to collect himself from this nonsense. 

Erestor looked away for a moment before pursing his lips "....About that."

Great, something else to irritate me. 

"What is it?" he said with aimed frustration at his cousin. 

"Well my lord it would seem Lindir was able to reach Estolad by traveling through Doriath. He told the twin princes that he was even given leave to stay in Menegroth for a few days"

Maglor's mind went blank for a moment before his head gave a reptilian tilt. 

...huh?

"I know it sounds quite unbelievable my lord. However, it seems King Finrod was indeed aware of Lindir being sent to us as a messenger. So to ease his travel, and ensure the boy's safety. His highness sent a special missive to King Thingol requesting that Lindir be given safe passage through his lands. Surprisingly, he actually said yes"

There is no way that belligerent gem hoarder did that with no ulterior motive (You would be right🙄)

As for Finrod; I don't know whether to scold or commend that fool.

At the very least he sought to ensure his people's safety; unlike his impulsive boar of a brother and nephew.

"I'm going to guess there's more" he said with an angry look, as the squeamishness his friend gave him said it all.

"I'm afraid so. While Lindir did not stay in Menegroth for longer than two nights. He was indeed brought before Thingol for a private audience. It would seem my lord...that the Greycloak sought to have Lindir procure some unused seeds from our supply houses" said Erestor with reviled sarcasm. One that really said "yup, you heard me."

The wine glass shattered. It's holders grip gone as his countenance went sickly pale. 

...ha...

Haha...

That....

That shameless thief!

"Erestor....tell me I heard you wrong. Tell me that I did not just hear that someone who dares call themselves 'King of Beleriand' has the gaul to act as a brazen pickpocket. I plead with thee tell me Lómion's paternal grandfather did not stoup to such underhanded tactics" he said with a rage in his eyes that could have slew men where they stood. 

The rage was met with pity as Erestor tiredly sighed.

"I'm sorry my lord. Truly I am, but it is all true. Not only is Doriath still searching for the 'maia' or rather our 'patron' that flew over their woods all those years ago, but now they are quite set at attaining the seeds the prince made" said the advisor with the tone he oftentimes reserved for political enemies. 

Seeds that he created through leave of.....

I'll never forget that day...never.

That's how I got my twitch. 

Never mind he supposedly did it because he loathes the idea of people going hungry???

There is a limit to how kind someone can be! 

You'd think he'd get only one new addition to the song, but no he got four! I can't imagine Lady Yavanna's reaction to that?! (She was quite happy🤭)

I knew something big was going to happen the minute Erestor stormed in and told me he'd disappeared with a bright smile; but this?!  Erestor was stuck in the healing halls for days just mumbling to himself after Maeglin innocently confessed to speaking with...I can't even say it (T_T) 

Managing the backlash from the incident back then was already a challenge!

Had Lómion not flown out of Nan-Elmoth, we'd have never been able to stave off suspicion. Even then controlling & redirecting the rumors was a task worthy of records. 

Erestor outdid himself. 

"For what reason?" he said through grit teeth.

"From what my spies tell me, the motivations are divided. Some say Queen Melian is curious as to why a member of her kin is here, and how they are able to change pieces of Arda's song. However, that may be only hearsay given her actions can be quite unpredictable. Tis interesting that she only mentioned the seeds to her husband rather than the rescue of the souls. Now as for the king's court, they seem to be divided given half want to try and convince the 'maia' to stay in their realm-"

As guest or prisoner..

"-while the other half want to determine if this is some new trick of the enemy." 

There is no way that foul monster could have produced something so beautiful. 

Tis the nature of elves to perceive good from evil at its core; the fact they even entertain such an idea is concerning. 

"As for King Thingol, I know not his intentions. Best case, he wants his daughter to have another Maia to learn from. I'm certain being the only half-maia in Arda can be quite...lonely. In the worst case, he means to ensure we do not have access to our Patron's support. Huriel was only able to get so much information from her cousin without risking exposure. Though one thing is for certain my lord, I do not think Doriath is a safe place for the prince. Not in the least; there is an air of greed spreading in those halls. King Thingol may not have threatened Lindir outright, but the scared boy made clear that the King made him most uncomfortable in his attempt to persuade him" said Erestor as a nervous look made itself known. 

What does he mean uncomfortable?

Threathened? At what point did such a thing become an option between firstborn? 

Myself and my brothers not withstanding.

Was Lindir not granted leave to be guest in his halls? What kind of host intends harm upon his guest?

"Erestor, don't mince words with me. What exactly did that greycloak say to the boy?" he said with the air of authority his title demanded. 

"It wasn't so much what he said, but more what he implied..."

"Meaning?"

Erestor winced again. 

"Meaning that had King Finrod not sent that missive, and mentioned expecting the boy back at a certain time. Lindir spoke that he believed....the King may have very well imprisoned him until he complied" spoke the advisor with revulsion as he swiftly dived for the calming wine. 

Maglor looked like he was going to faint. 

(o_O) ?

...

He wouldn't dare.....

He would not dare do something so.. (Sigh😮‍💨, he has dungeons Dadlor)

"Are you serious?" he near whispered as he struggled to find his voice. 

"I did not sense deceit in Lindir's words. If anything he didn't seem too eager to ever return to that realm again. He hasn't complained once since staying in Estolad" said the advisor in a weak attempt to ease his lord's turbulent heart.

Oh yes I can imagine he'd much prefer staying in a warm bed, and bemusing himself with the twins humorous antics than stay in a place you were near thrown in a cell. 

Had Finrod not thought ahead Lindir may have found himself in a most dire predicament.

That elf has gone crazy. He may be worse than Turgon. How dare he do something so....cruel? Does Melian know what her husband did?? Is she willfully turning a blind eye to such clearly malicious behavior? (She didn't know, she was with Galadriel at the time🤦)

Just what kind of convoluted principles is that elf deluding himself into thinking justify his actions? (Well...)

If Lómion ever hears this, he may really do something crazy (Like he hasn't already)

That boy detests cruelty and imprisonment with a passion! I'll eat my harp before I believe he'd just idly stand by and watch it continue. 

Tis a small part of why we did the best we could to strengthen our relations with the other races, be kind to the edain soon to be homeless, and sent relief supplies to the elves of Ossiriand. 

Lómion is doing his best to protect the edain and our people. He even established relations with Lord Cirdan through genuine kindness. 

Yet, here is his father's sire acting without restraint or moral to those around him..

Now I'm really starting to see why Eöl wanted to get out of there.

"Erestor..how bad is this? Truly?" there was a grave light in his eyes as his bearing now carried that of a ruler that'd known his fair share of impending political strife. 

"Honestly my lord...not good. Rumors of the 'Patron of Finwë' spread like wildfire following the ferrying of the souls across the sea. Many men in Brethil saw how orcs were felled from just being caught in their light. We were fortunate that Lord Cirdan and his people chose not to speak a word of the incident. However, the seeds are what have garnered us the most attention. Despite our....absence from our keeps-"

You mean our three day race to Estolad with no rest, food, water, and only the will to live spurring us on like starved wolves in a desert. 

Oh yes, escaping the feeling of death's icy claws tightening around your throat was quite the motivation to flee like it was the last day of your life. 

Twas a miracle no thieves attempted to plunder our homes during that time.

...Well except for that one...

I knew the boy mentioned protections against evil men incorporated into the castle stone, but I never thought I'd see a melted.....huuuurrgh 🤢

Oh thank goodness he never found out about that. Then again they were part of a band of murderous thieves so......ugh.

"-the Doriathrim gave no initial heed due to the mixed bag of rumors I helped spread. The lack of consistency is what's protected us thus far. However, that is no longer the case. Aside from the messengers my lord, some nightingales were recently found hiding within the trees in Himlad"

Maglor swore under his breath, and immediately poured himself another glass.

Well can't say I'm too surprised.

I knew it would happen at some point.

"How many?"

"Not a lot; only a handful. None were killed, but merely chased off by Prince Celegorm's hound"

Another reason to be grateful for Huan (Huan is such a good boy😁)

"Though that's only part of the problem. My lord rumors of your brothers and the high king have begun to spread. Prince Maedhros' healing was one thing but now many speak of how High King Fingolfin is supposedly suffering from grief. So much so that he has taken to keeping a strange black rabbit with him, and ceaselessly petting it during meetings" said the advisor with a tone that really said he couldn't believe Fingolfin was really capable of such behavior. 

They focus on that, and not the fact Uncle actually tried to ban rabbit hunting? 

That idea didn't even last a week. 

Of course, I don't disagree per say...given I've chosen to abstain from consuming rabbit ever again. 

You just don't eat something your kin turn into....

Oh dear...it seems I've truly gone crazy (Glad you admit it😌)

"Rumors also fly of how a maiar sent by the Valar has been tasked with aiding the forsaken Ñoldor. Some of the elves in Nargathrond believe it to be a chance at redemption. A breath of mercy to those that have long suffered" spoke the advisor with wine glass still in hand as he shoved the couch backwards and away from his lord.

Maglor had to restrain himself from destroying another glass. 

Mercy is it? 

Mercy my foot!

The Valar have about as much mercy for us as they do a pig destined for slaughter (Harsh..😬)

Oh how I will relish the day all come to learn of what their 'kindness' actually pertains (Sigh, Manwë you are gonna be busy😓)

"There's also the retinue of Laiquendi that came to investigate the source of all the....screaming" spoke the advisor with a blank look as he recalled the most humiliating day of his life. 

Then Lómion had to go and use magic to fix his nose. 

I've never seen Erestor so riled up. 

How embarrassing.......

Sigh...at least those Laiquendi were kind enough to look away...

"It's funny for I found them to be quite polite. Then again that could have just been pity" he said with a vacant smile. 

...Yes...it was certainly pity...(Yeah, it was🤭)

"In any case my lord, they were curious and came to learn a supposed 'Patron' has been aiding our house" said Erestor with a matter-of-fact tone as he sipped another glass.

Thank goodness Lómion was getting scolded by his grandfather when that happened. 

I doubt they believed the excuse that the noise was all due to a 'training exercise' (They didn't believe you for a second😅)

Then again I suppose they kept their silence on account of us giving them some rice rations as well as the promise to fortify Aman-Ereb should it need to serve as a military encampment (Thanks for the gift 🤩🎁, magic? screaming? Oh no, we didn't see anything👀...pfft)

Carnistir is ever the pragmatic strategist when given time to fiddle with potentially rewarding investments. 

He certainly wasn't going to sit around in Estolad waiting to 'acclimate' to the feeling of death chasing you into the abyss. 

After such a long conditioning period, I'd be shocked if our elves were even fazed by a Balrog anymore (Training to the extreme 🪖!)

"This is getting out of hand my lord. This is all going to come to a head, and when it does the prince will need much to defend himself from those seeking to use him. By now his true position is about the worst open kept secret among two-thirds of the exiles" said the advisor who now made his frustrations known. 

Maglor assessed his advisor with practiced scrutiny as he quickly discerned the meaning of those words.

I know where this is going.

"What is your point my friend?" he said as he braced himself for what he knew was coming. 

"What I mean is that the child's title may be very well what protects him once the truth comes out to those outside our keeps" said Erestor as a crinkled brow accompanied the blunt declaration.

I know him to be right, but....

"My lord even if that child were not of the blood of Finwë. I doubt any of our people would deem him unworthy of being bequeathed the title he has earned ten times over-"

"Erestor-"

"He is not only kind, but selfless. More than once has he demonstrated the qualities of a true leader. Not only that but I have quite frankly lost track of the number of times he has proven himself humble and intelligent beyond measure. He ploughed a field for Eru's sake!-

Maglor internally cringed at that. 

Yes and the poor farmers that belatedly realized they had been working alongside a royal near died from shock. 

Especially after they tasked him with.....oh goodness......peeling the potatoes (◎﹏◎) (He thought it was relaxing 🤭)

They were fine of course, but uncle almost had a seizure. 

I've never seen Carnistir so visibly unbalanced.

"-Sometimes I honestly wonder if I am seeing the younger version of your father. Yet rather than ambitious he is uninterested in power, and only seeks the best for others. My lord it truly plagues my heart to see such a gifted child be denied what is rightfully his. If not for the honor demanded by his birthright than at least for defense. Our latest correspondence with Lord Cirdan spoke of how the Doriathrim have been consistently hounding him for any withheld information on the maia. They've even taken to showing open contempt of his willingness to trade with us. How they think such actions will not bring trouble to their homes is beyond me. But there in lies my point; my lord I make no attempt to pretend that many a ruler in this realm would seek to use that child's gifts for their own ill means. Not just the dark one, but also selfish kings that think they can control those they deem beneath them. Please do not interpret my words as disloyalty my friend. For I merely now choose to inform you of how this farce may yet prove unideal should Prince Maeglin not procure the means to protect himself" finished the advisor with an air of an indisputable point.

Maglor met his friend on even ground as he understood the argument to be well founded. 

A regular elf would be ceaselessly persecuted by those in power.

Yet a prince is not so easily exploited, and holds means to deny a meeting should they request a summons. 

Should the time come for Maeglin to acknowledge himself before our people, then I will make every effort to ensure he has a true childhood. 

Maglor's response was a resigned nod, as he softly told his friend he'd consider more options following the battle. That was the end of the conversation as Erestor amicably responded with a small smile. He then addressed the last matter of business by handing Maglor the stack of letters he'd been holding. The first was adorned with a circular sphere depicting the golden rays of Laurelin. Detailing straight beams of gold and orange was the symbol of Finarfin. 

A letter from King Finrod Felagund.

Greetings Cousin,

I trust you have been well and that no harm has come to thee. Forgive the lack of pleasantries, but I'm afraid I find myself needing to be blunt. 

I know not in what manner this has come to pass, but I have sensed a profound change in the air. Whispers sing of our doom having come to an end, but by what means I cannot fathom. I have heard tell of your house procuring the aid of a 'Patron of Finwë.' At first I did not believe the rumors until word reached my ears of ethereal beings said to be garbed in living starlight passed through our borders. I have also heard the hymns of the new foods being added to Eä's song. I don't know what's happening with your house cousin, but I would bid thee to tread carefully. 

My grand-uncle has become quite interested in these new commodities, and has made known his displeasure with kinslayers having the full rights to them. Be wary cousin for I wish no harm upon thee. 

Also, I must ask..

What in Eru did your patron do to my brother and nephew?! 

Absconding them & the residents from their homes in the middle of the night?! 

While I appreciate them being gentle with my kin. Did they have to use such methods in bringing them here?? 

I have never seen those two so incensed in all my life! Angaráto and Orodreth are more than insistent on arresting their attacker, or savior, without chance to defend themselves. It infuriates them to no end that they seem not even able to recall their attackers face or voice. I'm not sure how much longer I can hold them off. I've had to feed them those sleeping herbs twice already. 

Even their people have been handling this with more grace. If anything my niece laughed it off. Though she did say something I find quite odd...

Either way, I've forbidden all of their kin from leaving until the year passes. I'm not fool enough to ignore a warning from an Ainur. 

Be careful cousin, and tell your patron to be watch their steps. Lest they find themselves on the other end of my nephews sword. 

Sincerely,

Your cousin, King Finrod Felagund 

Awkward silence fell upon the room.

Maglor blinked. Then he blinked again. Once the words finally registered. He proceeded to bang his head on the table. Had he been born a woodpecker, this scene would have not been so ridiculous. 

Erestor wisely chose not to say a word as Maglor proceeded to open the next letter. This one also garbed in Finarfin's colors. Yet strangely, Maglor found the seal to be adorned with dried peony petals. 

A symbol of family?

Oh

Maglor previously heard tell of Orodreth's daughter and how their cousin wed a local Sindar elf. The girl had been born during the Long peace, but Maglor had never been granted the chance to meet the young elfling. Well, said elleth that was reaching her half-way point to adulthood. 

Tis rare for our house to birth any elleths.

I heard she was nearing 250.

This was a letter from Finduilas. 

Mae-Govanen Cousin,

Fate has not granted us the chance to meet, but I bid thee hello and wish thou good tidings. I am your cousin Finduilas Faelivrin! Gwindor gave me an episse in reference to the sun shafts streaming sunlight through the caves. He caught me lounging under them one time and decided to bequeath me an episse. Though I can't complain for I find I quite like it. 

Oh apologies! I've started this wrong. 

What I mean to say is that I learned Lindir was coming to deliver thee some messages so I asked him for a favor. Ada does not know I've done this so please don't tell him! Let's keep it a secret between us cousins. Uncle Finrod speaks nothing but praises of your music so I was most curious to make your acquaintance. I have not met much of our family, and have yet had the opportunity to see Aunt Artanis. I sent a letter, but have not heard a reply. Regardless, I wanted to extend an olive branch and be the first to say hello!

In regards to what happened, please do not think me upset like Ada or Adadar Angrod. I actually find our move to Nargathrond to be quite exciting! Your patron was most kind in making sure I wasn't cold. Those blankets were so soft that I've taken to keeping one in my room for when the caves get too drafty. 

Also, I haven't told Ada but I believe I had a nice cup of tea with them when they were here. I must say it had such a refined and strong taste. I believe we even had a fun chat, but sadly I find I cannot recall what we discussed. Tis sad to not remember such a fun encounter. But I hold no ill will and hope you give them my warmest regards when next you see them.

Though if they do choose to make a visit....please tell them to avoid Ada. He's a little upset at the moment. Honestly, I fail to understand why. Tis not as though any of our people were harmed. If anything that was the fastest and simplest travel I've ever experienced. 

I hope this letter finds you well cousin, and please be kind to Lindir. He didn't want to be a messenger, but Ada was most stubborn about it. If ever we meet I hope I get the chance to hear one of your beautiful compositions. 

Oh! Also, please tell your patron I said thank you for the tea leaves! I went back through the cart a few days ago and found them hidden under the floor boards. 

Tis such a joy to have such a unique blend! Though don't tell Ada. I've only told Uncle Finrod, so this can be our second secret as cousins. 

I hope thou stay well cousin. 

Please give my regards to your brothers. 

Sincerely,

Your cousin, Princess Finduilas Faelivrin

....

.....

......

......

∘ ∘ ∘ ( °ヮ° ) ?  

.......He did what?

Maglor eyed the letter with something words just couldn't describe. He'd read that letter aloud, and was met with the sight of his advisors eyes blown to the size of tea saucers. Maglor was surprised a fly hadn't flown in by now. 

Now, the first thing he felt upon reading the letter was a stream of familial warmth. He could not help but question how such a sweet elleth was born into their house. She certainly portrayed herself to be more open to new things than her sire. Quite frankly Maglor was a little surprised this girl was related to Orodreth at all. He also couldn't help but feel flattered at the thought of someone wanting to hear him sing. A request he'd fulfill with no small degree of glee once the opportunity arose. 

Once that was done, he proceeded to have a near heart attack. By mercy or chance Erestor deigned to voice what he'd been thinking. 

"How?" 

Maglor shakily shook his head. The absurdity of all this was too much for his old heart to take. 

How in..

When did he?

While doing all...

Who....who does that????

(⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

That's it....

Tis official, the boy's a lunatic. 

"I'm a bad parent.." he near mumbled before he could stop himself. 

"My lord-

"Hah! I'm a bad parent" there was a hint of hysterics when he said that. 

"My lord I hardly think-"

"He turned an elf into a squirrel!" now there was more than a bit of panic. 

"Farondir has been repeatedly told that was an accident. He has not once blamed the prince-" said Erestor in an attempt to soothe his clearly troubled friend. 

"Oh yes, he was most relieved to learn he had not been turned into a tree rat for the crime of entering without knocking!" he spat as he desperately reached for the whole bottle of Dorwinion. 

"My friend please calm down-"

"Calm down?! My son commits a mass kidnapping, speaks to the Allfather like it's nothing, and then has tea in the very place he pilfered his kin?! It's not enough Tyelpe thinks this is all entertaining, now innocent Finduilas has joined in on the chaos?! I'm too old for this TT" he practically cried as he proceeded to have a meltdown. 

Something is wrong, we're not raising our children right if they deem this to be the norm (Nah, they're just chill ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧)

"Well then you'll be pleased to hear the screams coming from Nan Dungortheb last week were in fact not the prince's doing" said Erestor as he swiftly turned away so as not to meet the wide-eyed gaze of his lord. 

(⊙_◎)?

Screams? 

What did Maeglin donow?! (Pfft..it wasn't him🤭)

"What screaming???" 

"Well, last week our scouts in the western edges of Himlad reported hearing shriek like screams echoing through the valley. They said it honestly sounded like a poor maiden was being mauled to death"

(...pfft...hahahaha🤣)

"What?" 

"At least that's what they first presumed, until they started seeing bright lights and loud noises accompanying said screams. The next thing they knew half the valley was on fire" the words were said with a tinge of sarcasm that sounded anything but authentic. 

Excuse me???

"Are you sure that wasn't Maeglin?" he said as he scanned his friend for any hint of deception. It certainly wouldn't be the first time Erestor chose to 'omit' some pertinent information. 

One perfect example being the near 8 circlets he's already crafted for his prince!

I knew I was missing a gem with our house sigil  (╬▔皿▔)

He better not think he can beat Curvo, because after that nightmarish revelation my brother went on a near rampage in procuring every precious metal he could find. 

"It wasn't him my lord. He was with Prince Caranthir taking stock of the supplies for the upcoming battle" said the advisor with a matter of fact tone. 

So then it really couldn't have been him (Told you🙄)

"How did someone get into Nan Dungortheb without anyone noticing? We guard all the entrances so that the spiders don't spread" 

"Honestly, I don't know. The guards said they never saw anyone go in" 

(.....Who said they looked like a person...👀)

"Well I think we need not worry about those spiders for quite awhile. Because whoever started the fires seems to have torched nearly half the population" said Erestor with no small degree of admiration (Bye bye, itty bitty 🕸 🔥)

Maglor was well and truly gaping now. 

"Half?! They slaughtered half?! That can't be right. Those vile spawn of Ungoliant were near impossible to subdue with several armies"

"Well it would seem whoever did it, certainly had no love for them. I sent in some reconnaissance, and they found nothing but ashes and scorch marks covering even the higher walls. Though what I find concerning is that some of them appeared to have been well....smashed right into the rock. Some of the carcasses looked like they'd been ruthlessly tossed by something. Whatever it was, I'd wager it's quite strong. The scouts were quite enthused when they described seeing small craters lining the ground" 

(Maiar are quite buff 💪 😬)

What in the world could have...

....

Why do I have a bad feeling about this?😐

This is the same feeling I get every time Lómion is somehow involved 😑 (It's the parent sense!🤣)

"Do we know where it went?" he said as he felt the waves of an oncoming headache. Finally, he took to chugging the whole bottle. 

"We couldn't follow without risking the remaining spiders. Though from what we could tell, whatever killed them seemed to have been heading west" said Erestor as a dark brow rose in contemplation. 

Whatever it is, we'll deal with it later (Sooner than you think🤭....hehehe)

"An issue for another time. For now we must make ready. Though before we end this, what'd you do with Orodreth's letter? I didn't see it in the pile" he said as he raised a knowing brow at his second. 

Said advisor that replied with a wickedly amused smirk "I fed it to the crossbreeds" 

"Oh? Not even going to use it as kindle?"

"It wasn't worthy of that honor" said Erestor as he took one last swig of his wine before bidding his lord goodnight. 

Maglor sat alone in peaceful silence. The moon now high and lighting the way over a cloudless sky. The stars glimmering in the place they deemed their light safe. There was little time left until the Bragollach. No matter how much he tried, Maglor knew Lómion was going to fight alongside his kin. 

From what he'd learned thus far, the boy seemed adept at handling himself on a battlefield. More so than he would have cared for. 

For a moment he recalled the eventual disclosure of Lómion's spiritual age. Something he'd revealed to his uncle nigh a year ago. 

Over 600 years old..

Then he couldn't have been an edain.

None of the edain we know of are so....advanced.

His thinking and knowledge are far too extensive for any of the current races. 

Just the medical, architectural, and culinary skills he's shown are hardly reticent of any edain or dwarven clans we've heard tell.  

Yet with all this that still does not explain who he could have been or what life he lived to acquire such skills. At this point none of us are sure if he was once a noble or someone that resided among the worker class...

Nor does it explain...

There was something Maglor had not told his brothers. Not since Lómion revealed his title, had he told anyone of the profound changes that came to his every day life. For in hindsight it really didn't make sense as it was well known Fëanor's line had no gift of foresight. Carnistir's being deemed mere snippets of an otherwise larger canvas. However, what Maglor recently began to wonder.....was that if was possible to see visions of things that had once been.

For twice a year, since that day Maglor would receive a dream of things he could not understand. He saw places and the blurred faces of beings that just didn't fall within the realm of possibility; at least for the world he called home. He heard voices of children and adults of different ranges. Sometimes he saw the outline of a massive castle surrounded by hills and a lake. There were even instances he saw staircases and paintings seemingly come to life. Though one thing stayed consistent. 

In the dreams he always heard the voice of a certain boy. 

A boy who'd gone through times both happy and sad. 

With people he loved and were there when he needed them most.

It was only a few years after this strange phenomena began, that Maglor gleaned enough to know.....

He was seeing the images of someone's life. 

The room where he stood was made of stone, but not a stone he'd ever seen. Stranger still it appeared to be covered with some sort of odd parchment meant to detail intricate patterns.

In the room lined with gray curtains and black rugged floors sat three children.

Or he deemed them to be children given they didn't look old enough to be adults. 

They were all gathered at a wooded table, and garbed in strange clothes.

Their faces were blurred but in the haze he could tell one was a young girl with hair of wavy brown, and a voice that chimed like ringing bells in a tower.

"Come on Harry"

The second was a boy with hair of orange and stood taller than the rest. 

His voice exhumed an energy of perseverance and comfort. 

"Yeah mate come on, we didn't get the chance to practice as much on account of that pink toad"

 The last boy, the one he'd seen in every vision, and who's name he could never hear sat before the two with hair of untamed raven black.

He spoke in a voice twined with kindness and sympathy.

"Alright guys, but just this once until school starts back up"

"Yes!"

They pulled out three strange sticks. 

Each looked different and bore their own unique designs. 

With arms lifted and sticks pointed high, they chanted-

"Expecto Patronum"

Blue and white escaped the tips. 

Light filled the room as all three soon took shape.

A stag

"Hi Prongs"

An otter

"Haha, hello Bell"

Then finally...

...a small dog.

"Easy Jack, haha I've missed you too"

The three looked to the other with excitement as they chased and played with one another.

Wisps of blue following along as they danced across the room. 

The three children that'd conjured them laughed in childish wonder.

The boy with the stag saw fit to tease his friend.

"Jack?"

"Oh come on, it's simple and look at him; he looks like a Jack"

The girl chuckled in fondness.

"Really Ron?"

"Alright fine, I couldn't come up with anything fancy"

They all laughed once more as the figures danced and the fire in the hearth warmed the room.

Outside snow fell, but the room was not cold.

Joy and merry filled the air as the vision finally faded.

Sunlight peaked through the curtains as the shining daybreak greeted him.

He'd woken to a dream like the ones before, but this time it was different. 

Contrary to all other times, when the words had been drowned out. 

He heard a name. 

Not the boy who he'd been made to follow, but of his friend. 

The one with hair as red as flame. 

The one who'd conjured the dog. 

Ron.

The boy and the girl.

They called him Ron.

From what Maglor Fëanorian was meant discern from this sign...

He would only know when the time came.

In battle there was one principle both enemy and ally followed without debate. 

Twas such a simple concept that even creatures as dumb as orcs were capable of comprehending the fundamentals that governed the art of war.

Both sides fight. 

One side loses while the other wins. 

Typically with the loser garnering a good degree of losses. 

Maglor Fëanorian knew a battle was coming to his door. With 5,000 cavalry and 2,000 ground units Maglor's forces stood ready to face the wave of fire soon to lay siege upon their homes. The Gap prided itself on their horses and Himring was famous for its ability to withstand long drawn out battles. Himlad was armed with 2,000 archers while Thargelion manned their posts with near 6,000 foot soldiers. Estolad sparred no expense and made sure their forces were ready for an assault should their defense falter. 

They were ready. 

They'd made every effort and ensured Hithlum stood ready to defend their lands too. 

If anything Hithlum stood ready with near 8,000 elves and 1,000 men ready to defend their territories. With the front forces garbed in Lómion's armor and Maedhros Fëanorian ready to cleave his enemies to pieces with his nephews gifted sword. 

They were ready to fight. 

They were ready to strike the foul creatures of Morgoth with a vengeance like no other. 

Maglor was ready to ensure his son didn't have to fight. 

.....

Or at least....

Ghâsh (Fire) - Kabooooom! 💥 

....that's what he thought. 

Minutes before the outlandish sight before him came to pass. Lómion had appeared by his side, conjured his guardian stag with a power that couldn't have been anything other than Telperion's light, scolded said deer for apparently skewering a Balrog too early, and proceeded to fly off into the heart of the now chaotic battlefield just before telling him he loved him. 

Now while he wouldn't deny the wave of warmth such words stirred within his fëa. 

He couldn't help but stare at the chaos happening before him. 

"My lord-" 

His gaze momentarily lingered on a dumbstruck Tarion. The second that stood on his left garbed in the armor his prince had personally forged for their people. Said elf that was astride one of the crossbreeds. The same feral equines that had agreed to be their steeds for this battle. 

Except..

BOOM! 💥 

"Attac- gah!" 

"When the prince said he was going to take out as many of them as he could-"

"Attack! You useless maggots, att-Squeeeeaaal!!!""  HISS 🔥 

CRACKLE!

POP!!! 

BOOM!!! 💥💥💥

Oh.my.word 😨

"-Was he being modest?" dumbly spoke the elf that just watched another horde of orcs get literally eaten by a giant flaming snake. 

Said gargantuan serpent that had been unquestionably conjured by the prince's magic. A living inferno that seemed to have no reservations about brutally killing the orcs that lay in its path. Especially considering the thing seemed to enjoy producing quite the menacing grin every time it turned the nearest troll to ash. 

The world was on fire. 

Outside the bounds of the barrier, the lands were swiftly becoming torched beyond hope of repair.

This was the Dagor Bragollach. 

The battle of Sudden Flame. 

Though with one amendment....

This was not a battle. 

This was not a fight. 

Not even close. 

This was a slaughter. 

A massacre of unparalleled proportions.

High in the skies above the barrier a bird of unfamiliar shape was lighting the skies with a blaze equivalent to the flames of Arien. The creature that seemingly took the form of some massive strange bird seemed to be engorging itself on the cinders of Morgoth's armies. With the wing span of a small mountain the being left fire and desolation in its wake. Its ominous and shrill cries echoed through the night as Morgoth's war machines, which had taken years to build, were burned to ashes in mere minutes. The orcs that were trained to hold their positions were now screaming and squealing from the rampant chaos erupting around them. Orcs were never creatures to run from a lost fight. Especially if it meant taking down their foes with them. 

However, an exception seemingly applied when said fight would result in nothing but their utter annihilation. Given the giant cat roaring and stomping the orcs into oblivion. The foul monsters seemed to deem death by barrier as the least painful means to perish. 

He doesn't know when but within a few minutes following the death of the two Balrogs, the orcs actually started charging the barrier like mindless beasts. Some of them didn't even have spears or swords anymore and just threw themselves into the bounds. Of course said attempts only ended with the soulless creatures getting mercilessly blown up. 

Now, while some did try to fire at their forces using poison tipped arrows. The twigs never reached. Not so much on account of all their forces being out of arrow range but more so because the shining deer and serpent wasn't giving them a chance to even focus their aim. If anything the crazy things seemed to take sadistic delight in whipping the orcs with extended appendages or turning them to dust upon mere contact. 

Maglor actually flinched when he caught that vicious snake using its tail to whip about a dozen orcs right into the barrier bounds. He could have sworn he heard that thing hiss in sadistic delight when it saw the orcs blow up. 

Mercy to anyone who becomes that child's enemy because he's really not holding back (Nope😇)

Time seemed to drag on as his soldiers stayed within the bounds. Flame resistant armor aside, nobody was stupid enough to think about going out in that chaos unless they wanted to meet a miserable end. 

Well everyone except-

*Neiiiiiiiiighh!* (Little foal strong! Little foal kill all ugly beasts!)

Maglor tugged on the reins and motioned the beast to be quiet. He was making it very clear that running out into the end of the world was most certainly not on his to-do list. Dying via a giant fireball falling out of the sky could be deemed quite the unideal death.  Luckily, the horse seemed rather inclined to agree given it was getting a front row seat to a merciless bloodbath. 

That was when he heard a pair of hooves come up on his right. He could feel the mocking sarcasm without even needing to hear the words. 

"My lord-"

Maglor eyes trailed to the advisor that gazed at him with the biggest "I told you so" look one could possibly imagine. 

"-I feel it need not be said-"

If you know that then don't say it and save me a headache. 

"-but I'll say it anyway-"

Please don't🙄

"-I'm not covering this up."

If you actually could, I'd name thee the Vala of miracles. 

The advisor was given no answer as a tired sigh escaped his otherwise frustrated lips. They watched the show for a few more minutes as Erestor looked like he was about to say something again. 

However, whatever words he hoped to speak would forever be a mystery as the air around them suddenly trembled. 

Where once was heat was now freezing ice. 

Where cries of destruction once reigned, in its place was deafening silence. 

Through the bond he shared with the boy he wanted safe above all else, Maglor felt a rage like no other engulf his very being. 

What he felt in that hour was not the child he'd come to know. 

This was not the Lómion he knew. 

No....

The Master of Death was enraged.

Across the plains where only elven sight could see two Balrogs came upon an unseen figure with tainted fire and bloodlust. In the chilled air where only heat should have been felt, all bore witness to the creatures being mercilessly slain by a being they could have never hoped to vanquish. One's head blew up while another lost an arm before anyone could blink. Then before the last umaia could land a counter a massive hole appeared where its torso once laid. Crunched bone and black blood splattered like rain as the beast was felled by none other than Lómion Irission. 

Maglor's heart thundered in his chest as while he couldn't see the child's physical form, he knew Lómion to be the one doing this. 

But something was wrong. 

Something had gone wrong. 

The boy was angry.

Angry beyond measure. 

More angry than Maglor had ever felt. 

Twas not the Balrogs that incited this wrath. 

It was what they were guarding. 

Glaurung...

When Maeglin told them that the beast was coming for revenge. Maglor still held to his reservations that maybe the beast wouldn't be as bad as the boy had made it out to be. He'd hoped, that just maybe, he'd be able to handle the fell lizard without Maeglin's help, but he was wrong. 

He was so wrong. 

The dragon was three times bigger than he'd been when he first attacked Fingon and his company. Fouler and stronger beyond what Maglor knew his forces could have handled alone. The accursed dragon, bred by the Dark Lord, was more fearsome and deadly than when it'd first revealed its existence upon the planes of Ard-Galen.

Robbed of its guards, the dragon stood alone cursing in its foul tongue as it struggled to find its target. Flame and smoke filled the air and Maglor was at a loss to keep track of the fight. Every fiber of his being wanted to spur the horse forward and try to pull Maeglin back, but he knew that would only end in disaster. Fury and indignation filled his soul as he reluctantly acknowledged that if he ran out now, he would be a liability. A weakness that the vile dragon would use against the attacker coming at the infernal beast with the ferocity of a typhoon. 

Maglor lost sight of the battle. 

Glaurung had disappeared amidst the smoke of the flames that escaped his foul maw. Worry seized his heart until the chill made itself known once more. For all the times Maglor felt the power within Maeglin's fëa, it had been naught but gentle. 

But not this time...

The energy that could possibly take on an ainur was emitting an energy so intense it coursed through the familial bonds like a signal of oncoming danger. 

He'd been told a bit of what the boy's responsibilities were, but that didn't mean he fully understood them. 

Though someway....somehow...

The dragon's mere presence caused that power to be unleashed without restraint. It made his very bone quake. He didn't doubt his brothers could feel this too. A primal urge to flee nigh nearly consumed his whole body. Whatever Maglor was feeling now was assuredly more profound than what the elves at his side were feeling. The whole world had gone still as danger and death filled the air like a harbinger of destruction. Before he could even attempt to draw air into his lungs the scene around him changed. 

For just an inexplicable moment the distance that once separated him and Maeglin shortened and rather than a smoky field, he now gazed into a slited eye. A reptilian orb that mirrored those of a being with twin glows of endless green.  

He was having a vision of the present.

But what he saw....

.....he'd forever wish he didn't.

"You have no soul"

....what?

"There's nothing inside you that is actually yours"

....No

"You believe yourself to be your own being but you are naught but the fractured remnant of a Vala gone mad"

...Is that why...

Maglor heard nothing more as the vision swiftly faded, but before all drifted away. 

He saw a black blade. 

He witnessed the sword Anguirel, sever the head of Glaurung. 

The plague of Beleriand had been slain. 

Never to walk the lands and terrorize it people again. 

By the time his vision returned he was left breathless as beads of sweat rolled off his head. He seemed to have been pulled from the horse as Erestor steadied him. From his periphery he spotted a few more dismounted soldiers seemingly dry heaving from being subjected to that intense aura. Whatever bloodlust and fury once filled the air had seemingly settled as the massacre kicked up again. Maglor recomposed himself and stood to his full height once more. Surprisingly, Fuintal had been kind enough to not run off or otherwise insult him. 

"My lord, what happened?" said none other than Erestor as he stood beside his lord with clear intrigue. 

Maglor didn't answer right away and chose instead to steady himself as he processed the magnitude of what he just saw. It was only when he returned to stand by the crossbreed did he finally deign to reply.

"Glaurung is dead"

Erestor did not reply and just stared at him. 

"Two more Balrogs as well" he said as he looked away with a clenched fist. 

Erestor did not reply but Tarion did as he came upon his lord with quiet steps. The commanders that stood behind him waited with bated breath "...So four...umaia" 

Two killed by the stag, and two slain by his own hands. 

By the Valar...

Erestor finally found his voice "Did he....slay Glaurung?"

Maglor nodded and as soon as he did all went ashen. 

No more words spoken, and none would as the world around them continued to burn.

Several hours passed and history books would hereafter tell tale of how the fifth Balrog was felled by none other than the Chief advisor of Maglor Fëanorian. 

Though the means by which said elf had achieved such a feat, Maglor would forever deem it a topic of serious debate. Of all the ill luck in the world, there happened to be a fifth Balrog among Morgoth's ranks. One that seemed to have been hidden in the rear among the last platoons to depart Angband. The deer and its flaming party had already departed the Gap with half heading east towards Thargelion and the rest heading West toward Himring and Himlad. 

Oh how Nelyo and Curvo went ballistic when they saw those things show up...

Never mind nearly three fourths of Morgoth's forces have been burned beyond recognition. 

This could almost be deemed a little too efficient. 

Of course Nelyo and his forces went out there about an hour ago because they refused to sit back and wait this out.

Given that Maeglin had been responsible for the demise of four umaia plus a dragon, everyone was more than ready to get the chance to slay one of their own. Maglor was told that the barrier could supposedly fell a Balrog, should it get within the bounds. However, the efficacy of such enchantments had yet to be tested. So despite Maglor's faith in the boy, he still shouted for his forces to be ready to charge should the magic fail. 

Swords were drawn.

Arrows were aimed. 

Steeds were primed and pawing to charge. 

A picturesque portrait of soldiers if there was one. 

Though by now....you'd think he'd learn to stop doubting.

For the minute the Balrog charged upon their forces, armed with its infamous whip and blade. All were met with the sight of the creature.....

...instantly turning to ice. 

Within the span it took the orcs to explode, the once ancient evil of Morgoth's foul magics had been reduced to a pristine ice sculpture that near glittered amid the firelight. Wings that once emanated smoke now looked like harmless blue protrusions. The whip and sword used to kill elves were now useless ornaments adorning the frozen carcass of a once fell creature. Nobody moved; not even the orcs. Everyone just stared at it as though waiting to be told they'd seen a trick of the mind. That is until the distinctive "whoosh" of an arrow whistled past his ear and the frozen behemoth literally shattered to pieces.

The body crumbled and the dismembered head rolled. 

Lidless eyes and the skull of a once monstrous abomination landed right before the elves in a near comical heap. 

It's imposing horns now broken as all gaped at the ludicrous sight before them. 

Even the horses looked surprised. 

The spell was only broken when a smug chuckle reached their ears. A laugh that escaped from the advisor who was grinning at everyone like he'd won a prize, "What?"

They all just started at Erestor like he'd lost his mind.

The elf merely responded with a shrug as he gestured to the scene outside the barrier "Oh please, don't look at me like that. It's not fair that they get to have all the fun"

The retort was met with an audible snort from Tarion as he muttered a quiet "crazy elf."

I see the madness never ceases. 

Time passed once more until it happened. 

Maglor would forever praise his sense of caution, and insistence for his elves to remain astride their steeds. For if he hadn't they'd have never been prepared for what happened after the world became filled with light. It was sudden and came without any warning. Where the miracle of the one's mercy had come so to would another grace the lands of Arda. 

The pillar of light had returned. 

From a top the hill where the lilies bloomed and the orcs could not approach, light erupted across the North. 

It came fast. 

It came with the speed of a strong wind. It reached the Gap, Hithlum, Himring, Thargelion, Dorthonion; everywhere. 

His vision and that of all Eru's children became filled with white as magic permeated their beings. 

This light was filled with power uncounted and in its throes Maglor felt the presence of his son. He didn't know how long it lasted or how he knew this happened, but when the light faded the air cracked and in the sky above their heads. For all to see....

....was the sign of the Deathly Hallows.

The orcs stood still. The mark that filled the sky now appeared in their eyes, as though they'd been bewitched. It felt like time had stopped, but with all light there must be shadow. As the prelude of danger saw fit to make its appearance. 

In hindsight....he should have known all this was too good to be true.

Crack!

All looked up. 

Split!

The sounds of cracking glass resounded.

CRACK! CRACK!

A piece or magic broke from the dome. 

SPLIT!

Another broke off as a hole appeared.

CRASH!!!

The barrier had fallen. 

Noncorporeal pieces of the barrier landed before their feet and scattered around their heads as the magic that had defended their homes for near 14 years, finally faded away. But only one elf among the thousands didn't bother to care about its loss. Sadly fate is cruel, and his worries were put on hold as the orcs were pulled from their trance and jeered when they saw holes in the bounds spread to the ground. One took a step forward and when they didn't combust, the dye had been cast. Whatever was left of the orc hordes charged right for them with their base intent to slaughter. 

Maglor drew his sword and with one command led his army forward. 

The Dagor Bragollach wasn't over yet.

Two days passed. 

Dorthonion had fallen, but that was expected. 

It'd taken longer than anyone wished to be rid of the remaining forces and section off their territories from Dorthonion. The fires had burned out, and any who'd been injured were immediately taken for healing. One elf nearly lost a leg from a rapid troll, but the armor had transported the poor soul back to the healing halls before it could be lost. Despite the loss of over half of Morgoth's forces in the initial strike, it still took two days just to slay the remnants. Maeglin was right in that this battle would have lost them the Gap had he not intervened. Five Balrogs and a dragon would have been too much for them. They'd have all been forced to evacuate to Himring, which currently was dealing with the clean up from the latest slaughter. By the time the barrier had fallen, near 3,000 orcs and 1,000 trolls were left to waylay the area. Twas not so much the orcs as it was the trolls that were the problem. Especially considering these trolls seemed more blood crazed than the norm.

Trolls had thick hides and oftentimes besieged their targets with brute force. Many escaped broken bones and shattered ribs on account of the unbreakable enchantments mixed into the armor. Of course, that didn't stop some elves from suffering a severe concussion should they go be made to go flying. They almost lost one of Tarion's hunters because of that, but were thankfully saved due to Erestor keeping one of the potions on him in case of an emergency. 

Ever the cautious elf. 

The battle had been a long one and Maglor had made good on his Effírië Linde (Death Singer) episse. By the time the battle was up and the ground lay littered with black blood and viscera, near 600 orcs had been felled by his voice. Many met their ends to his blade, but the initial confusion garnered by his voice bought enough time to cause confusion and instigate an swift kill. Never underestimate the might of elven forge work, for had it been a blade crafted by any other hand; it's have surely broken. 

Death permeated the ground, and wafted through the air like the scent of iron as Maglor trudged through the battlefield like a starving man. 

The minute the battle was over, and warlust wasn't pounding through his veins. His mind was left to finally focus on one thing; Lómion. 

The boy had been missing since the barrier fell. 

Not once had the boy answered the fervent pleas sounding through their familial bonds. Not for him and any of his brothers. The same had been reported from Hithlum. Massive search parties were already out looking for him, but they'd yet to find any trace of the boy. Maglor could tell the recklessly brave child was still alive, but it's like the world within their bond had gone totally silent. A quite hum to an otherwise boisterous orchestra. No matter how much he tried, he just couldn't reach him. Without a distraction, his mind soon became riddled with all sorts of heinous reasons as to why this was happening. Each turning bearing a more insidious thought than the last. Especially given the child had, as of late, made unending comments to preparing for a time he wouldn't be around. Naturally, it didn't take long for self loathing and regret to coil around his heart like a venomous serpent. 

What was I thinking?

Why did I let him go out there?

What was I thinking leaving a child fight a dragon?!

I should have argued with him, forbidden him from leaving. If Curvo can station his son in a place of safety, than why didn't I do the same?

I'm a fool. 

The sound of rushed horse hooves breaking through the charred trees accompanied by a familiar howling brought his internal admonishment to a screaming halt. For coming at him in full canter was his younger brother Celegorm, and at his side the hound of Valinor. They were both panting and near breathless when they came upon him in clear haste. 

"Kano!"

"Tyelko? What are you doing here? Did you find-"

"No time! Mount a horse and follow me. We've got to get to that lily patch" said his younger brother with no room for argument as his tone carried that of one trying to highlight the urgency of a situation. Especially considering the famed hunter was still caked in the black blood of the foes he'd felled. 

Maglor looked at him with no small degree of surprise as he heeded the words and rushed back for Fuintal. Yet, his curiosity was more than piqued as a small ray of hope ignited in his heart. The two, along with Huan, were no rushing straight for the Lily patch. 

"Why the Lily patch Tyelko?-" he stopped midsentence when a thought came to him. 

!

Wait Huan!

"-Did Huan?!"

Celegorm, still astride the the horse at full gallop, replied with a graveness in his voice "Yes, Huan was trying to find Maeglin's scent when he suddenly started rushing over here. He told me we have to head for the lily patch" 

Maglor's palor turned ashen when he heard that as a hypothesis started forming within his turbulent mind. 

The lily patch is where the pillar appeared twice over.

The place where Lómion established his connection with...

The boy is part maia and Huan is supposedly one of the lesser maia that served under Oromë. 

Could it be..?

The giant hound of Valinor quickened its pace and started barking in what sounded like....excitement? By the time they'd made it to the hill's crest Maglor and Celegorm near gasped at what they saw. The hill that was once filled with luminous white lilies now looked as though the spring that'd kept them in bloom had finally ended. The still green patch of grass was covered in fallen petals with the bear stems now making ready to bud anew. No orc blood touched the field and nor was there any hint of a foul creature ever managing to come near this place. Whatever power had been used to ignite the pillar clearly had an affect on the field, but thankfully not enough to completely wilt its splendor. 

Like a man possessed both Maglor and Celegorm dismounted from their steeds and stepped into the center of the now bloomless patch.

Huan followed and if anything grew more excited by the minute. The giant grey hound almost looked like it was about to start rolling in the grass like a newborn pup. 

Maglor and Celegorm were more than a bit surprised by the behavior, given Huan certainly never acted like a jubilant child before. 

The air around them was still. They remained in place for what felt like an eternity as nothing happened. Maglor was about to let hopelessness take him when......a breeze as soft as the petals at his feet tickled his nose. 

Huan barked and near jumped with pure elation. The hound's tail started wagging so fast it was almost hard to keep track of it. Happy whines and yips echoed through the field as petals rose from where they lay and started surrounding them in a circle of white. The scent of lilies filled the air as the wind picked up and the warmth he'd felt over a decade ago gripped his fëa with the gentleness of parent. Maglor knew this feeling for he had felt only a fraction of it when he'd come for the boy he loved without question. 

But this time was different. 

He felt eyes watching him, but ones that carried no scorn or judgment. 

A light presence surrounded him as he laid motionless before someone he dared not speak. 

He couldn't see them but he knew they were there. 

The being that'd led them here and with any mercy, would lead them to Lómion. 

The prayer that reverberated within his fëa was one he did not intend to be heard, but still did not regret. 

'I know I am undeserving of aid. I know I have spilled the blood of innocents and am deserving of punishment. The oath I swore in hubris and in vain is one I shall regret for as long as my fëa exists within this world. I know I cannot take it back and have not earned the right to make this plea, but still I ask if thou can hear it'

'Please not him'

'Whatever contempt is held for me....please not him'

'Please let him be safe, please-'

The breeze picked up again and the petals whipped around him as the feeling of grass beneath him disappeared. It felt like he was floating before his fëa suddenly welled up with peace and absolution. There was no rage or condemnation. There was only love and the drive to strive for a better path.

Then for just a moment.....

....he felt a feather like touch on his back. 

A light hand pushed him forward as though signaling him to take the next steps. 

Then as swiftly as it came, it was gone. 

The petals around them fell, and the breeze softened. 

Now before their eyes, the tower of Barad Eithel stood tall. 

Neither of them did anything nor did the two brothers deign to speak a word as the recent events just processed in their heads. Only Huan ran around them in exuberant jubilation as the scene before them seemed to bring the hound to the peak of utter delight. Both of them stood before what appeared the east end of the city gates. The night sky above them cast a sort of ominous glow over the tower of the high king. Both brothers turned to look at each other with haunting expressions before a familiar voice sounded behind them "cousin?"

They both swiftly turned and were met with the confused expression of their cousin Fingon. 

But it wasn't the appearance of their cousin that suddenly drew Maglor's attention. 

...oh no.

It was the fresh tear tracks running down the prince's face....as in his cousin's hands....

....was Lómion's broken broom.

Blood pounded in his ears and the world around him drifted away. 

He fell to his knees and his body felt bloodless as the air was stolen from his lungs. 

His broom...

no...no... no...

I thought he'd be okay...

"HEALER!! I need a healer now!!"

Voices roared around him but he couldn't hear them. 

My son...

No...

Lómion....

With all the strength left to his fading consciousness he reached for his bond. 

He reached deep within his bonds and screamed all the anguish running amuck within his very soul. 

Please Lómion, please answer....

...And he did.

'Atto!'

He snapped awake as his vision blurred back to a startled clarity. Feeling returned to his limbs as his fëa immediately connected with the child he feared gone. Celegorm was holding him with Fingon helping him up as the energy of Maeglin's fëa finally reached for all their familial bonds. 

He's alive.

He's okay. 

Fingon picked up on the sensation and beamed with a bright smile. 

"He's alive, but where-"

The crown prince was not given the chance to finish as a high pitched screech whistled across the dark sky above their heads. The clouds casting a shadow over Telperion's flower broke and heralding their light across the twilight skies was-

"Screeeee- eeeee- aaaaaar"

"Eagle!"

Thorondor

Lord of the Eagles and Greatest of the Birds of Manwë

Thorondor had come. 

Soldiers of both realms gawked and marveled as the Lord of Eagles had come to Hithlum once more, heralded by the moonlight as the giant raptor soared above them. No eagles had ever come to contact the exiles barring the exception of the rescue of Maedhros Fëanorian. Though just as soon as the eagle had come carrying the crown prince and his rescued charge had the creature vanished, never to be seen again. 

Until now. 

And just as the great eagle ferried the two princes at the dawn of the first age to the tower of Barad Eithel, so too would the great king of eagles bring their prince back to them. 

Celegorm, Fingon, and Maglor sprinted and charged straight for where they knew the eagle would land. A top the tallest level of the fortress, laid a viewing platform large enough for the eagle to land. Twas the same spot Thorondor had landed before, and they had no doubt it would be the same spot he'd land this time. At some point Fingolfin joined their merry crusade, as too did an entire platoon of guards and a handful of healers. They were climbing the stairs like men being chased. Fingolfin near ran over his advisor as they finally made their way up the last flight of stairs. 

The door to the platform swung open with a bang. 

And there standing before them was....

........

😳

....

"Oh! Hello there"

There was no eagle. 

"Well, I see you've brought a bit of an audience"

There was a very tall elf.

"Not surprising though, he did say there was quite a few of you"

Or at first glance it looked like an elf on account of the pointed ears. 

"So, which one of you is his grandfather?"

But any elf raised in Valinor could tell this was anything but an elf. 

Given the distinct features and characteristic glow coming off said elf. 

Standing before the gobsmacked crowd of battle and emotional wary elves was a being with hair of crimson fire. 

Eyes of blue cobalt.

And an obscenely pale face that seemed to be sprinkled at the cheeks with some kind of dotted pattern. 

This was no elf. 

Standing tall before all of them with their prince seemingly passed out on his back was a maia. 

A maia that addressed Fingon with something akin to familiarity. 

Of course the prince didn't seem inclined to deign a reply just yet, given he'd gone stiff as a statue. 

Now as for Maglor?

In hindsight, he'd been through quite a bit of emotional turmoil as of late. He'd witnessed an impossible massacre. Been subjected to covering up obscene degrees of magic and agricultural innovations that could have otherwise started a trade war or worse. He'd traipsed across a battlefield with no idea as to the fate of the child he'd tried to drive away from participating in said battle. In fact, he was pretty sure he heard something become unhinged in his head given he was pretty sure he just spotted a giant stone monster tossing what looked like an orc corpse across the planes behind the maia. He'd been endlessly worried about his son, possibly just had an unofficial encounter with the creator of this world, and finally saw an eagle become a not eagle right before his eyes. All that on top of knowing that Ñoldor were typically not very fond of anything Ainur given recent revelations and quite frankly their quite hostile track record. 

Given all that....

.....yeah.....

It really shouldn't have been that surprising....

...when said maia was swiftly met with about 20 blades pointed at his face. 

It'd been a week since arguably the worst introduction in the history of worst introductions.

Following the elves aiming their weapons at the maia, Fingon immediately commanded everyone, including his kin, to drop their weapons at once. The crazy nér even went so far as to use himself as a meat shield. Fingolfin wasn't even given a moment to inquire as to his son's reasoning given the prince had promptly taken his nephew from the clearly affronted maia, and proceeded to carry his nephew to the nearest healing halls. Everything else that followed was a blur, but by the time the sun rose on the next morning Maglor finally allowed himself a small respite from the knowledge that Lómion was finally safe in his grandfather's personal chamber. Sadly, that was only one bright side to the many oddities that followed the boy's return. 

Once Estelon finished his evaluation of the prince's health. Fingolfin and himself had nearly passed out from the shock of finding out just how many injuries their reckless elfling had procured during his time away. 

Cracked rib, a concussion, several scratches, and possibly a sprained wrist.

Estelon said it looked like he'd fallen off a cliff or something (....Something like that ⚆_⚆)

As if that wasn't bad enough, Tyelkormo near glared that maia into oblivion after it sheepishly confessed to not being well versed in the art of healing. 

We didn't even hear that goliath enter the healing halls (He's really quiet 🤭...pfft)

What does he mean he's not skilled in healing??? He's a maia isn't he?? (Yeah...about that 👀)

And why is it I could actually tell he was embarrassed?! Since when do ainur show any hint of what their feeling?? (There's a reason Ron wasn't a politician🤣)

It would be one thing to have an ainur come up out of nowhere to deliver his son back to his kin, but it was another matter entirely when said maia decided to make to take up residence in someone else's house! Since the day that maia showed up, he had yet to leave(╬▔皿▔)

If anything it seemed like that petulant redhead made his presence known just to irritate them (He is actually, you made him mad🙄)

And oh how that maiar reminded everyone he was still residing within the castle walls. Ever since Maeglin had been taken to rest in his grandfather's chambers, that blasted maia would change his fana into that of some kind of dog and proceed to growl at anyone that got near the room (Oh snap😂). Many a poor maid was scared off on account of seeing a Huan sized wolf or whatever it was, guarding their prince like a feral watch dog. Even Elvion wasn't spared when he attempted to reason with the petulant creature. 

Poor elf was chased out before he got two words in. (Shouldn't have pointed things at him 🙄). 

The only time that crazy thing let anyone aside from us get near Maeglin is when the staff come to deliver his food.

Then that right there was another topic of interest.

Apparently, and beyond all comprehension, this maia had a savage appetite (Ron doesn't do no food(¬‿¬))

Which really didn't make any sense, given maiar didn't need to eat or otherwise require the need for sustenance given they couldn't die from starvation. It didn't make any sense; none of it. Especially considering this one had a frightening proclivity for meat. Just two days ago one of the kitchen hands barged into the High King's office in a terrified stupor. The poor elf reported seeing the maia expertly behead one of the chickens before proceeding to make a meal out of it. If that wasn't enough, apparently they demonstrated advanced skills with cooking. By the time the unwelcome guest was done, the scent of grilled meat dipped with scented herbs had many an elf near drooling for a taste. 

This is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!

Since when does a maia know how to cook?! (He helped Molly with the chicken coup🤭)

He's killed three chickens already! Never mind near pillaged a third of our stored meats!

It's already disconcerting how skilled they are in the art of butchering (...👀)

That's it! ╬▔皿▔

I want him out! OUT!

How does one evict a maia from their home! (You move😅)

Celegorm was about the only one among their ranks that had any experience with maiar, and even he was baffled at this one's behavior. As much as Celegorm detested talking about his time among the hunt following his fallout with Lord Oromë. Capitulations were made given the dire need for answers. But that was it, they had none. None of the maiar in Oromë's hunt actively knew how to make an elaborate meal out of the game they caught. Many of them rarely spoke a word, lest it be in the tongue of animals. Never mind not one of them ever had their emotions written all over their presumably perfect faces. They were all flummoxed from realizing just how....human...this maia seemed to behave. They didn't even wear any braids. Whenever he wasn't in the form of some kind of canine, nobody once saw a braid in his hair. They always just tied it up or left it down. Which was frustrating in itself because that was usually how one determined which of the Valar they served.  

At one point Fingolfin attempted to bluntly ask the maia about which master they fell under after they found him reading a book in the library. 

That didn't pane out well. 

For as soon as the words fell from the High King's mouth, the maia's eyes abruptly changed from blue to solid gold. This was soon accompanied by the maia's hair starting to glow and the temperature in the room actually rising. Their physical form even started shaking from what looked like deep seated anger. It was clear as day that they were more than a bit miffed by the question given the scathing answer he received ''I'm not a slave, nor anyone's servant. Not now or ever; I'm not some mindless doll that only takes orders and doesn't think for himself. Don't lump me in with those blank faced idiots"

So he doesn't seem to like the Valar (You have no idea...😬)

Needless to say, Fingolfin never asked again. The tension was only diffused when Fingon motioned his father out of the room, and proceeded to have a private conversation with the angry maia. Nobody knew what they discussed, given Fingon refused to be forthcoming on the matter. Though whatever the crown prince did seemed to do the trick. For by the time the day was up, the maia seemed to have thankfully cooled off. Out of everyone, this walking furnace only seemed inclined to speaking amicably with the crown prince. Not counting how this infernal ainur seemed to spend most of the days hanging around Maeglin's room like a lost puppy. They hardly ever left his son's side and only glared at him as a wolf whenever Maglor came to see him. 

Maglor glared right back!

They never spoke a word to each other (Stare off◉_◉)

This had been going on for three weeks now, and it was driving everyone mad. Nobody knew how to even address this unforeseen interloper that had stuck itself to Lómion like an annoying gnat. 

Not once had the maia deigned to give anyone his actual name because following the initial hostile greeting; he just refused to give it. 

'I don't believe I should be explaining myself to a pack of mannerless gits' is what the no named maia said with no small amount of snip when I asked for his name.

Mannerless am I? 

Who's the one eating us out of house and home!😠 (Ron knows how to hold a grudge...)

Maglor had enough on his plate and dealing with a maia throwing a seeming childish tantrum was at the bottom of the list of issues he wanted to deal with. Since his magical departure from the Gap, Maglor wasted no time in sending a messenger bird to Erestor that explained where he was and that he'd be gone for quite some time. Luckily, he'd received a reply within a week informing him that the Gap was still theirs, and that Erestor would hold down the fort until he returned. Sadly, that time would be limited given he was a lord and couldn't be remiss in his duties. The worst part about all this was that he'd probably be returning without his son. Especially given the state he was in once they'd got the boy to the healing halls. Physical injuries aside, Lómion had barely stirred since being given one of the healing potions. Maglor had seen the boy tired, but not this tired. Maeglin was utterly exhausted, so much so that he was hardly ever awake. Maeglin spent all his time in bed, and only returned to the waking world long enough to get some sustenance in him. The most startling part of all this was that the raging energy in Lómion's fëa seemed to have diminished down to the size of a mere candle flame. It startled everyone into a fit when they sensed that through the familial bond. Estelon and all the healers were clueless as to the cause, until funny enough it was the maia that had held some semblance of an answer. 

Albeit one that presented more unanswered questions, and left a sense of deep foreboding within Maglor's mind.

'It's magic drainage. Circe's sake, he cast an area wide obleviate across the majority of the north. That'd drain anyone, if not kill them. Bloody hell, it's a miracle he's only tired' 

That's what the maia said just this morning when the healers examined him again. 

It was then something clicked inside Maglor's head. Specifically, it was when he dissected and identified certain words in the maia's explanation. 

'Bloody hell' 

'Circe'

He'd heard those words before....

He had a theory, one he didn't like; but nevertheless had to test. So that night he asked Celegorm to let Huan go after that maia. The two had never met on account of Fingolfin deeming it wise to keep the supposed maiar separated. Huan was loyal to Celegorm and if the hound deemed this maia to be a threat then there would be blood. Celegorm, being his usual self, questioned his decision but eventually gave in when he made clear there was no room for argument. 

Oh but what happened later that night left them stumbling for their sanity.

Tis no secret that canines can be territorial. Many a time Huan growled and got in fights with the rest of the huntsman's hounds. It was only after a fair amount of training, conditioning, and socializing that such disputes finally ended. 

So imagine how surprising it is to see the great hound of Valinor curled up with the intruding maia as though he were an injured pup. 

What in....(⊙ˍ⊙)

They found the two in Maeglin's chambers, huddled near the foot of the bed. The moonlight illuminated the grey fur of the massive hound as it curled around a small red wolf that clearly wasn't looking to push away the blatant affection. It would almost look cute, if not an utter contradiction to everything Maglor knew. He wasn't the only one confused given Celegorm nigh nearly lost his mind, and almost fainted from the sight of his hound acting like some gentle caretaker. Not once had he ever seen his hound act like this with anyone outside their family, and quite frankly looked more than a little betrayed.

The next morning was chaos as they all convened in the High King's office.

"Tyelkormo, what in Arda was that??" he near sputtered as he pleaded his younger brother for answers. 

He was met with reproachful disdain. 

"You think I know? This is confusing for me too Kano" said the hunter as he crossed his arms in clear frustration. 

For the love of-🙄

"Nephew, did Huan at least tell you anything? I find his friendliness towards this maia more than a bit far-fetched" said the High King as he nursed an intense migraine. 

Celegorm looked pensive as he clenched his hands together in a vice grip, "I asked Huan, but what he told me doesn't make sense"

Their uncle eyed Celegorm with interest, "In what way?"

Celegorm released a frustrated sigh as he pulled his hair back.

"Meaning it just doesn't. Huan said something about that maia being in pain, and sticking to Lómion because it hurts too much to be alone"

Everyone's eyes went wide. 

Pain?

He's in pain?? (He is actually.. 😥)

"Wait how is a maia in pain? He seemed fine to me?" said Fingon with a hint of concern for the maia that's actually been polite to him. 

Hmph, if you define 'fine' as someone being rude beyond reckoning, and growling at anything that moves. 

Celegorm shook his head as tiredness laced his pale features. 

"Well he's not. Huan told me his heart or whatever is pretty delicate right now" said the hunter with a frustrated huff. 

Okay, now I'm confused.

"Is that why Huan was actually nice to him?" he said in an attempt to fish for specifics. 

Celegorm replied with a single nod. 

Nobody spoke for a bit as everyone started formulating their own ideas. 

"So...does Huan know who he is?" carefully asked their cousin as he eyed the hunter with a good bit of caution. 

Well maybe we would know more, if you weren't so dodgy about all this (Fingon ain't talking for a reason👀)

Celegorm didn't answer right away. His silver eyes trailed to the sun on the horizon with a grim expression as he finally deigned a reply, "He does, but he won't tell me-"

...What?

Really?

Huan, actually refused to answer his master's question. 

Just what is...

"-He told me we'll learn his name when their ready. So for now we need not fear any danger from them. If anything Huan warned against us hurting him" said the hunter as a flicker of controlled anger crossed his fair features. 

Maglor nigh nearly made a double take.

Us?? Hurt him???

Who's the one that can tear a wall apart like it's nothing (Words can hurt Dadlor...)

Just what is the story behind this maia?? (A long one..)

How does he even know Lómion? (They're brothers😌)

No more questions were raised as the door suddenly burst open, and in came the commander of the front guard. Huriel stood before her king with a look of wariness and urgency. 

"Húriel? What brings you here in such a rush?" said Fingolfin as he steeled himself for whatever was coming. 

"My king, the prince is awake-"

Maglor practically jumped before he was cut off, "What?! When-"

"No more than an hour ago, but-" The warrior nís hesitated as she eyed her king with what looked like a hint of shame.

"Speak Húriel. Is Lómion well? What happened?" 

"-He...he is well my king. It's just.....he is currently with the maia-" Húriel didn't get a chance to finish when Celegorm's infamous temper reared its ugly head. 

"YOU LEFT HIM ALONE WITH THEM?!"

Húriel wasn't one to be intimidated and met Celegorm head on as her dark eyes stood firm before the most impulsive of Fëanor's sons, "I care not for your tantrums Prince Celegorm. Think me not a coward or one to be remiss in my duties for had the prince not ordered me to leave, I would be standing beside him without question" 

Maeglin ordered someone? He actually used his authority as a royal?? (She was being pretty stubborn🙄)

"He...Lómion actually ordered you to leave them alone? Why?" near stammered the crown prince as his pallor went visibly pale. 

"I know not my prince. As soon as the prince awoke he asked for some tea to brought up while he spoke alone with his....friend" said Húriel as though she couldn't believe what she was saying. 

Fingon actually spluttered. 

Celegorm's eye twitched in sheer annoyance. 

Now as for Maglor....he shrieked an internal scream so loud he bet any who dwelt in the void could hear it. 

Friend??? Friend?! 🤯

That's it! In what universe or point has that child ever come in contact with a maia?! (They met on the train to Hogwarts, tehe:))

He hasn't met Melian, so how???

"My king, I swear on my life that had the prince not ordered me to leave I would have never left. Despite his insistence for my going, I remained by the door until Prince Celegorm's hound came to stand watch in my place-"

Well at least that brings me some comfort. 

"-I came to find you as soon as I was able. I have no wish for any harm to befall your grandson and Prince Eöl's son" said the huntress as she knelt before Fingolfin with all the respect she held for the noble king. Though what she said at the end.....brought forth a very dramatic pause.

....Oh....

Oh dear...

Fingolfin eyed his second with what looked like a hint of squeamishness mixed with intense appraisal. Only Elvion and Estelon had been made privy to Maeglin's maia heritage. Húriel knew he was Fingolfin's grandchild, but not who his parents were. Seemed the recent events clued her in to the identity of his sire. 

"...So you know..." said the high king with a tentative gaze that promised retribution should she speak of this knowledge to anyone. 

Húriel didn't meet his gaze as she remained kneeling and spoke with naught but bluntness "My king, there are stone giants standing watch outside our keep-"

Maglor really wished something would just fall and knock him out right now. After the whole kerfuffle with the maia, Maglor had been made to witness the actions of the guardians Maeglin conjured for Hithlum.

I knew he was going to do something crazy when he mentioned boulders!

But giants?! STONE GIANTS! WHY???!

And he made five of them?!

Why?!?? (T_T)

Just why??

That wasn't a fight, but a merciless bloodbath!

Uncle's armies had less enemies to deal with than we did. Those things slaughtered and butchered everything in their path! Then I come to learn another Balrog met its end at the hands of that barrier before it fell. 

Then that's another thing. 

Why is the barrier gone, but those things are still moving?!  

"-then there's the fact I haven't seen hide nor hair of that black rabbit you've kept by your side since the prince's return" 

.....Oh....right...(¬_¬ )

Fingolfin actually went a bit red at that last statement. Fingon barely stopped himself from snickering.

"Cough....eh-hem....so what is it you intend to do with this information?" said the high king as he scrutinized the elf before him with a blank face. 

Húriel only sighed.

"Nothing my king. My loyalties are to you, and the prince that has saved us more times than I can count. I will speak of nothing so long as you bid me be silent" said the huntress as she rose to meet her king's gaze with genuine honesty. 

Fingolfin imperiously inclined his head.

That was when all took their cue to swiftly make for Fingolfin's chambers. 

Though as soon as they opened the door Huan had been made to guard, they were met with the sight of strange small dog relaxing by a drowsy elfling. Maglor had never seen a breed like that, but it certainly had a temper. Given it growled the minute it took one look at them. As soon as he saw that, Maglor immediately knew the identity of the ill-mannered canine. 

Oh you want to growl? Fine then!

Two can play this game 😈

With a loud stomp Maglor walked right up to the dog and actually growled at him. With bared teeth he got right in the tiny mutt's face and showed him that he wasn't tolerating this behavior for one more minute. 

It actually worked. 

Ears fell, and a small yelp escaped the dog's mouth as Maglor proceeded to grab it by the scruff. 

Flabbergasted dog in hand, he unceremoniously near tossed the canine before his brother's hound, "Huan, I'll leave you to entertain our guest. Also, be a sport and make sure he doesn't devour anymore chickens ^^" 

That seemed to snap the maia out of his daze for as soon as Maglor slammed the door shut, the small thing started barking and growling up a storm. 

It was so loud you could hear it through the walls. Maglor didn't miss the snort that escaped Celegorm's mouth. 

Ah, no doubt he can understand what that obnoxious dog is barking on about. 

Well whatever, I couldn't care less. 

(*Bark Bark Bark!* Translation: I'll make you eat slugs for this you git!")

(Ah, classic Ron 😇)

Now that the unsought guest was out of the picture, Maglor made himself comfortable as he sat right by his half asleep son. Maeglin opened one dark eye as the boy sheepishly looked into his own chiding and content blue-grey. Fingolfin held one of his grandsons hands as he held the child for dear life. Celegorm sat at the foot of the bed as a warm but chiding smirk graced his features. 

"Hello, little chick. Left the nest for quite a bit it seems"

Maeglin looked like he wanted to become one with the blankets. 

"...I'm sorry"

Everyone sighed, but Maglor got his piece in. For if he didn't draw the line now then when would he ever be given the chance. 

"You scared me"

Lómion met Maglor's eyes with what could only be guilt as Maglor pat his son's head. 

"I-"

Maglor gently shushed him. 

"You disappeared and we knew not where you had gone. I couldn't sense where you were, and when we found your broom....."

Fingon hissed as he reached for Maeglin's other hand. 

Maglor had to steady himself, for just recalling the feelings that discovery garnered was almost too much for him to take. 

"I thought I had lost you. You went off, despite our opposition because you truly think yourself the only one able to shoulder all these burdens. Well enough is enough pitya. Where have I failed in showing you that I love you? I care not what power you wield. I want you to have a childhood. I want you to be happy. I want, above all else, for you to be safe and to live a life full of happiness. I do not want you taking all these risks and I am done allowing them. I say this as your family, not a lord trying to reign over your life. No more risks, no more running off, and most certainly no more jumping into situations without consulting us anymore. None of us ever want to go through this again. It killed us to see you hurt, and there will be no repeats" he said with the firmness a parent took when hammering a hard lesson into their child's head. 

Through their bond; Fingolfin, Fingon, Maglor, and Celegorm felt a wave of love wash through their familial bond. 

A single tear fell from Lómion's eyes as he looked at Maglor as though he were seeing him for the first time. 

"Okay, okay....Atto"

Father...

He called me father...(Yey :)

Maglor was breathless. Heartfelt affection and warmth filled his heart as he continued to pat the child's head. Fingolfin fondly chuckled as he tucked Lómion in before the child completely fell asleep again. 

All stayed and watched over the boy until the sun finally fell to make way for night. 

His uncle, cousin, and brother chose to stay with Maeglin tonight. Sadly, Maglor would not join them for he had some unfinished business to attend to. The halls of Barad Eithel were tall and near glowed amidst the light of Telperion's flower. The city was asleep and the halls were quiet as we walked along the veranda overlooking the city. This was one built into the tower of the king and was a favorite spot for those seeking a quiet place to think. This area was particularly beautiful given threads of luxuriant ivy wove their way around the pillars overlooking the moonlight.

It was here that he found the maia. 

He was in an elven form this time. 

The same one he had when they'd first met. 

Huan was asleep at his feet as the maia gazed at the moonlight as though he were in a trance.  

Cobalt blue eyes seemingly appeared unseeing as Maglor approached with quiet steps. For a moment Maglor thought he saw a small scowl appear on the maia's pale and spotted face before it swiftly vanished. 

Maglor took in his appearance for a minute before he deigned a passing thought.

Now that I think about, I don't think anyone has ever seen this maia be active during the day. 

We've only ever seen him out and about at night or otherwise stay inside when the sun is out.

Hmm....an observation for another time (Good catch Dadlor 👀)

Blue eyes regained their focus as they soon trailed to his own blue-gray. Neither of them said anything as they just silently stared at each other. 

The silence was broken when the redhead audibly sighed. 

"You know I was under the impression you all would know me" said the maia with a neutral expression as he eyed Maglor. 

With a quirked brow Maglor replied in kind, "How am I to know your name when you have yet to reveal it?"

"I thought I didn't need to say it. They said you already heard it" 

Now, Maglor was thoroughly confused. 

Who is they? (Hehe 🤭)

Apparently, the maia noticed his confusion and looked contemplative before their eyes widened in realization.

"Bloody hell, why didn't I think of that"

What are you....

Maglor didn't get to finish his thoughts for with a wave of their hand the maia spoke words.....

.....he heard in a dream. 

"Expecto Patronum"

Blue and white light filled the space around them.

Feelings of loyalty, bravery, and noble protection filled his heart.

The light took shape and wisps of blue ran around his legs.

For there not even reaching his knees.....

"Hey, Jack"

.....was a small dog.

The same one, that belonged to.....

"Easy Jack, haha I've missed you too"

"Really, Ron?"

Ron

Now Maglor truly looked at the being before him. 

Red hair

His voice

Oh Eru Ilúvatar

He's.....

"Ron....you're Ron"

Finally, the maia smiled. 

"Now, Mairon"