Lost and Found by awwyeah107

Chapter 1: Lost...

Chapter 1, "Lost...", is focused on the aftermath of the Second Kinslaying.

There's more details below, but feel free to skip and move on to the chapter.

Language Choices + Character Nicknames
The use of “Fëanorian” (follower of Fëanor) versus “Fëanorion” (son of Fëanor) is intentional in this story, so you will see it shift throughout the chapters depending on which aspect I wanted to note.

Character nicknames:

• Maedhros = Nelyo (short for Nelyafinwë, his father-name)
• Maglor = Káno (short for Kanafinwë, his father-name)

Songs Used as Inspiration
There were several songs I used as inspiration for this fic, all of which are by composer Adrian Von Ziegler. You could consider the songs a soundtrack of sorts for the fic. Here is the full playlist on YouTube. At the start of each chapter, I will list the song(s) corresponding to that chapter, and at the end of the chapter, I’ll reveal which songs inspired which scenes. This is my first time doing anything like this, so I hope my explanation is clear!

The song for this chapter is, appropriately, titled “Lost” XD Here is the link to the song on YouTube.

Read Chapter 1: Lost...

The two eldest sons of Fëanor looked at the gruesome scene before them with grim acceptance. The vision of blood sprayed across the floor and walls and bodies…with Celegorm, Curufin, and Caranthir—their brothers—sprawled out, unblinking eyes staring into nothing…Nimloth and Dior hand in hand, weapons forever rooted in elven flesh…this would never fade from Maglor’s memory, as long as he lived. Finally Maedhros turned away.

“Come,” he said, beckoning his brother. “We must find the Ambarussa.” Maglor nodded silently, and they marched off down the hall.

They had to reroute course many times, for they did not know the paths of the palace, and they ran into several dead ends. Menegroth was so unknown to them, but Maglor couldn’t help noticing its cold beauty, despite the darkness that shrouded it.

Finally, they reached a room that looked like a nursery. Clouds and tall trees were painted on the walls, and a rocking chair sat in the corner across from a crib. Clothes and toys were strewn about, and it seemed as though the last people to have been in here were throwing about items in a hurry. The two elves came to the conclusion that someone had come to take the babe away who slept here, and it was likely that that babe was Elwing, the daughter of Dior and Nimloth.

That left Eluréd and Elurín, the twin sons.

The Fëanorians moved to the next room, which clearly belonged to the young twins. Two beds stood side by side, but these looked curiously unrumpled; unlike Elwing’s room, which looked like a hurricane had swept through it, this room looked quite tidy in comparison. There were a few odds and ends here and there, but nothing unusual.

Maglor frowned and opened his mouth to comment on this, when the leader of Celegorm’s followers briskly entered the room. “Ah, Lord Maglor! Lord Maedhros! There you are.”

Maedhros inclined his head. “Geredíl. I am sorry to report to you that Lord Celegorm—as well as Lords Caranthir and Curufin—is dead.”

It is a wonder he can speak those words without even flinching, Maglor thought. He could barely even think of his brothers without images of their bloodied, slaughtered bodies appearing before his eyes. He took a deep breath.

Geredíl nodded. “Yes, we…that is, I and the others in his service, are aware.” There was a note of sorrow in his voice.

“Do you know of the status of others in Doriath?” Maedhros asked. “Maglor and I only arrived in the royal family’s quarters just now, and we were not involved in the heart of the fighting.”

“Yes, Lord Maedhros. Lords Amrod and Amras are still alive, and they are in the west wing. Many of the Doriathrim have fled, and they have taken the Silmaril with them. One of our scouts spotted a keeper with the young princess, Elwing, but was unable to keep up with them.”

Maglor’s heart twisted. All this death, another kinslaying, for a Silmaril to evade them again? Mixed anger and grief rose in his throat, and he swallowed.

Maedhros nodded cordially, as if this was merely a matter of state. “And what of the twins? Eluréd and Elurín?”

Geredíl shrugged. “I expect they are quite a ways away from the palace by now.”

Maedhros tilted his head. “What do you mean? Did they escape with the others?”

Geredíl shook his head. “Oh no, nothing like that. We drove them into the forest.”

A wave of horror washed over Maglor, strangling his tongue.

It was several seconds before Maedhros spoke. His voice came out as a deep growl, tinged with disbelief. “What?”

“We drove them into the forest,” Geredíl repeated. “At the eastern side of the palace.”

“And what reason,” Maedhros spoke slowly, yet Maglor could see the tension in his older brother’s face and rigid stance, “could you possibly have had for doing such a thing?”

For the first time since he had admitted to his actions, Geredíl began to look uncomfortable, though his voice stayed as casual and confident as before. “Well, Lord Celegorm always said it was best to kill wolf pups before they could grow up and become dangerous…”

Maglor could hardly breathe. “Are you saying that our brother commanded you to do this?” he asked, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice.

Geredíl shook his head. “No. The others of his followers and I simply thought it would be in keeping with his mindset…”

“For all his faults, I do not believe that my brother would ever condone driving children out into the woods with nothing but the clothes they were wearing and no place to go—in winter, no less. You have condemned them to certain death,” Maedhros said in a deadly calm and serious tone. It betrayed nothing of the anger Maglor knew must be simmering beneath the surface.

Geredíl looked down at the floor and then back up at Maedhros, meeting his eyes. “We—”

“Get. Out. Get out of my sight,” Maedhros snarled as he drew himself up to his full height, eyes flashing dangerously. Every aspect of his being radiated pure, barely restrained rage. Maglor nearly shuddered. He had never seen his brother this angry—not after Thangorodrim, nor after hearing of what happened with Celegorm and Curufin at Nargothrond, and certainly not back in Aman. Maedhros looked like he was moments away from drawing his sword and killing Geredíl then and there.

“If I ever see you or any of your filthy friends ever again, you will not live to see another day. GET OUT!” He roared thunderously, and Geredíl immediately fled the room.

Maedhros stared after him, breathing heavily, before taking a deep, shuddering breath and turning to Maglor. “You go find the Ambarussa. I am going after Eluréd and Elurín.”

Maglor stared back at him uncertainly. “Do you think they’re…”

“I don’t know. I have to believe they are still alive.” Maedhros looked out the window distantly. His entire demeanor had changed; his anger had given way to anxiety, and it was evident to Maglor in every line of his body.

Maedhros turned back to him. “Find the Ambarussa. I will return.”

Maglor could only helplessly nod before Maedhros turned and left the room with a determined stride.

A few seconds elapsed before Maglor collapsed to his knees on the floor, and he could not stop the tears falling. He knew he needed to find Amrod and Amras, but everything felt so, so wrong, overwhelmingly so: they had failed to retake the Silmaril, three of his brothers were dead, and innocent children had been left to die in the woods.

In the end, it was Amrod and Amras who found Maglor weeping. They knelt together, collectively feeling the loss of their three brothers and the absence of their older brother in his pursuit to right the only possible reversible wrong that had happened that day.

---

The Ambarussa were restless, fidgeting and whispering anxiously under their breath to each other in the cold. Maglor wanted to fidget and whisper with them, but he was the oldest here, and he had to remain the picture of strength for them. The last time he had carried the mantle of being the eldest Fëanorion on his shoulders was…..was when Maedhros was in Thangorodrim. It was quite a lonely feeling, having to lead his brothers completely on his own. He had fervently hoped he would never have to experience it again.

They were waiting for Maedhros outside, at the eastern side of the palace. The rest of the contingent, except for Celegorm’s servants—which were who knows where now, Maglor reflected—were ready to leave Menegroth. Maglor had been loath to touch his dead brothers’ bodies, both because he could not bear to feel their cold skin under his fingers and because he thought Maedhros should be there with them for the burial. Finally, however, he had let some of the attendants do the job of preparing the bodies, so now Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin were laid side by side, looking like they were simply asleep. The attendants had also prepared Dior and Nimloth’s bodies for burial; to Maglor’s centuries-old eyes, the fading winter light made the couple appear even younger than they were.

Just when Maglor was on the verge of deciding to venture out after Maedhros, he heard faint rustling from the forest. A couple of minutes later, Maedhros staggered out from the trees and bushes, looking bedraggled and disoriented. Maglor’s heart fell as he saw that there were no small figures making their way out with him, no elflings holding his brother’s hand or clinging to his back.

“Maedhros…” he began, and then trailed off.

“They’re gone,” Maedhros rasped hoarsely, the harshness of his voice evidence that he must have called and called for the twins until he couldn’t pretend they were there any longer. “They’re gone, Maglor.”

A chill ran down Maglor’s spine, and it wasn’t just from the breeze picking up and brushing against his skin. He nodded slowly, bleakly. Eluréd and Elurín were gone, never to be found again.

He bowed his head for a moment, overwhelmed by the weight of all the loss that had occurred that day. He wished he could simply lay down and sleep, for maybe all of this was a bad dream, and he would wake up from this nightmare back in Tirion. But then he shook himself, because night had almost fallen and they needed to bury their brothers.

He met Maedhros’ eyes, and immediately he could tell that his brother was not in any state to be leading himself, the Ambarussa, and their people. Maedhros’ eyes were dull and unfocused, and there were leaves in his hair. Exhaustion was written in every line of his frame, and apathy rolled off him in waves.

So Maglor took charge.

He directed their attendants for the burials. He sang a lament over their brothers’ graves, while the Ambarussa wept and Maedhros stood numbly beside him. And he led them as they left to return to Amon Ereb, as the stars came out in the sky above and the cold wind blew through the trees.

---

He should have known it would not be a good night for Maedhros, and yet it still surprised him when he heard the sounds of furious cursing and stomping on the floor above him.

Maglor resolved to leave him alone, for it was rare that his presence would help on nights like these, but once a particularly loud crash reached his ears, he sighed and left his room.

Steeling himself, he took a deep breath and thumped on Maedhros’ door.

“It’s Maglor,” he called through the door. “I—”

The door abruptly swung open to reveal Maedhros, looking unkempt and wary. “What?”

“I just…” His words caught in his throat. I wanted to check on you.

Maedhros sighed and walked back towards his bed, leaving the door open for Maglor. He came in and closed the door carefully behind him, before turning to see Maedhros stalking back and forth—presumably what he had been doing before Maglor arrived. The flickering fire in the hearth cast long shadows across the floor, and the room was in disarray with clothes, armor, and papers everywhere. A glance at the broken pieces of an inkwell on the floor next to Maedhros’ desk told Maglor where the earlier loud sound had come from.

“It was my fault.”

Maedhros’ low mutter drew Maglor’s gaze from the scene. “The inkwell?”

“No—yes, well—that too.” Maedhros sat down heavily on the end of his bed. “Even after all these years, it is nearly impossible for me to handle anything at a table without spilling something.” His face twisted in bitterness, and he shook his head. “Everything I do comes to no good end. Following Atar…foolishly attempting to parley with Morgoth…believing we ever stood a chance against him. This Oath has only ever worked against us, and it is only now that I can see the poison that it truly is. It has finally led to our brothers’ deaths and those of innocent children.” His voice was thick with self-contempt. He absentmindedly rubbed the stump of his right wrist with his left hand, a motion that was quite familiar to Maglor as an attempt at self-soothing.

Heart aching for Maedhros, Maglor sat down next to him on the bed. “First of all, you lived for much longer with two hands, so you needn’t feel badly about handling things at a table. And…you’ve done plenty of good in the time we’ve been here in Beleriand,” he offered feebly.

Maedhros snorted. “Like what?”

“You brought our forces together with the other factions of our family. You held Himring for centuries. Those have to count for something.” Maglor voiced the first things that came to mind.

Maedhros stared into the fire for several long minutes, and twice Maglor opened his mouth to say something, to try to give his brother some comfort, but found he had nothing to say.

Maedhros stood up and began pacing again, and Maglor could see that self-reflection had only made his brother more agitated. “If I had gone sooner, perhaps there may have been a chance of finding them. If I could have caught those bastards before they chased off the children…”

“Nelyo. Don’t do this to yourself.”

Maglor’s plea went unnoticed as Maedhros’ voice grew sharper and more desperate. “If I had kept a closer eye on Celegorm and his followers, if I had been able to correct his teachings, those children would be safe. But they are not, because I failed. I failed and they are never coming back.”

“Nelyo, stop. There is nothing you could have done better.”

“Fingon should never have rescued me,” Maedhros snarl-shrieked. “I should not be here—should not be here, in the warmth, where I have food and shelter, where I have everything Eluréd and Elurín cannot—”

“Don’t say that!”

“BECAUSE THEY ARE DEAD!” Fire blazed in Maedhros’ eyes.

Aghast, Maglor stared at him, and for a moment a deep sense of helplessness and grief tangled together in his throat, rendering him speechless. But then it all came out in a frustrated yell to match Maedhros’ as he rose from the bed and stood toe-to-toe with his brother, hands balled into fists at his sides. “IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT!”

“Yes, it is! I was the one who agreed to attack Doriath! I was the one who—who let our—”

Maedhros suddenly broke off and turned away from him, shoulders starting to shake, and Maglor realized that he was trying not to cry.

“Leave me. Now.”

From years of experience, Maglor knew that at this point, pushing Maedhros or trying to stay with him would not end well. He bowed his head in silent admission and walked out of the room. He closed the door behind him, but it could not fully muffle the sound of Maedhros weeping violently.

---

Chapter End Notes

I did consider having (or, well, letting) Maedhros kill Geredíl when Geredíl told him what they had done, but I decided that 1) Maedhros letting him go served the purpose of driving all of the servants away (by virtue of Geredíl passing that on to the others) and 2) killing him would be slightly too dark for the story and detract from it, though I fully believe that Maedhros could have done it. In another version of this story, definitely.

Also, Geredíl was simply a name I made up for the fic—it doesn’t have any particular meaning in Elvish, in either Quenya or Sindarin. (However, when I looked into it after I wrote this chapter, I discovered that “ger-” means “dreadful” in Sindarin, which he certainly is! “-díl” doesn’t have any meaning, though in Sindarin “-ndil” means lover or friend. I decided to simply leave his name the way it was, because “dreadful” is meaning enough in my opinion, lol.)

Song-to-Scene Inspiration

Lost: The song was used as inspiration for this whole chapter, really, but the back half (starting at 2 minutes, 28 seconds in) was specifically used for inspiration for the scene in Maedhros’ room.
To me, the start of this song really captures the bitterness, grief, and regret felt by Maglor and Maedhros upon finding their brothers dead, and it also sets the scene for the grim conversation with Geredíl. As for the back half of the song, I loved how it grew in intensity and the feeling of something stalking or looming over the main characters (the Oath and Maedhros' trauma). It felt very right for Maedhros' downward spiral, and I used it to fuel that writing.

Full playlist link here.

Next chapter coming tomorrow, and it’s not as dark as this one!

All editing done by me. If there are any typos or grammatical errors, feel free to let me know. Thank you for reading :)

Chapter 2: ...and Found

In Chapter 2, "…and Found", Maglor discovers Elrond and Elros are missing; he and Maedhros search for the twins, but will history repeat itself?.

There's more details below, but feel free to skip and move on to the chapter.

This is my first time writing kidnap fam, and honestly, although I’ve enjoyed reading a lot of kidnap fam fic, I’ve felt a bit unsure of myself in writing them! It’s a massively complicated relationship on many levels, and when thinking about how I personally want to interpret it in my writing, I want to find a balance: yes, love grew between them, as Tolkien said, but I think it likely took time to grow and it was not an easy path. That seems to be the most realistic option to me.

So, at the time this chapter takes place, Elrond and Elros have been with Maglor and Maedhros for some time now. Trust has been established for the most part, and as you’ll see, there are indicators of that throughout. Also, the two Fëanorians quite clearly care about the twins; Maglor is generally more open about it than Maedhros.

Additionally, this chapter is partially inspired by this comic by cochart. I had seen the comic before, and then halfway through writing this fic, I remembered it existed and found it again.

Language Info/Translation + Character Nicknames

Quenya is written in italics. The word “fëa” is Quenya for "soul" (many people who have read The Silmarillion or other Tolkien works besides LOTR and The Hobbit know it, but some don’t, so I wanted to include that here.)

Character nicknames:

• Maedhros = Nelyo (short for Nelyafinwë, his father-name)
• Maglor = Káno (short for Kanafinwë, his father-name)

Songs Used as Inspiration

For this chapter:

• Wild Spirit
• Enathar
• Hope

All songs composed by Adrian Von Ziegler. Full playlist link here.

Read Chapter 2: ...and Found

Maglor hurried along the corridor and entered Maedhros’ study with a brief knock to announce his arrival.

“Maedhros,” he said carefully, trying not to betray the panic he felt, “Elrond and Elros are missing. They aren’t in the fortress. We—I—must go out to look for them.”

“What?” Maedhros looked up sharply from the parchment he had been writing on.

“I said, the twins are—”

“I know.” Maedhros was already pushing back his chair and rising to his feet. “When did you last see them?”

“They were playing in the courtyard, under Gwaedal’s watch.”

“I should have known we couldn’t trust him,” Maedhros muttered under his breath as he walked out of the study and started down the hall. Maglor didn’t anticipate Maedhros’ quick pace, and he had to increase his strides to catch up to his taller brother.

“I don’t think he did anything…” Maglor tried to interject.

Maedhros pushed through the doors that led to the courtyard, and Maglor blinked against the wind that greeted them. A few elves moved through the courtyard as they carried out various tasks. Gwaedal was waiting nearby, twisting his hands together anxiously.

Maedhros strode up to the elf and roughly grabbed his collar. “What did you to do to them?” he demanded.

“My—my lord, I—” Gwaedal sputtered, trying vainly to free himself as others around them stared.

“Maedhros, that’s enough,” Maglor said firmly, pulling him off the startled elf. “We’ll take care of this later. Right now, we need to search for the twins.” He understood his brother’s behavior, however. After the negligence—no, it was more than that, it was intended cruelty—of Celegorm’s servants, any elf who was responsible in any way for children that went missing would be suspicious to Maedhros.

“I’m sorry,” Gwaedal said miserably, his face a picture of contrition. “I was watching them, I promise.”

“I believe you,” Maglor responded. Maedhros didn’t make a sound, but his dark expression conveyed his doubt. “Come on, Maedhros.”

---

The moment the gate closed behind them and the guards turned away, Maedhros grabbed Maglor’s sleeve, and his voice was filled with intense fear and desperation as he said, “We are not losing another set of twins.”

Maglor could feel his brother shaking, and he put an arm around Maedhros to steady him. “We’ll find them, Nelyo. They can’t have gone far.”

They strode off into the forest surrounding Amon Ereb. Despite his fear, Maglor was thankful that it was a warm and sunny day, quite unlike the last time a pair of young twins went missing.

The brothers called for Elrond and Elros, and both of their voices grew more frantic the more they called. Maglor thought he heard Maedhros call for Eluréd or Elurín once or twice, but he didn’t comment on it; he couldn’t do anything to help his brother, though he wished he could, and he knew Maedhros would be upset if he did mention it. So he simply kept on calling for Elrond and Elros.

The unspoken question hung in the air: would history repeat itself, and another pair of twins would be lost forever?

As they trekked through the forest, Maglor tried to keep track of landmarks here and there that would indicate how far they were from the fortress: a twisted tree trunk here, a large rock there. The surrounding area of Amon Ereb was rather hilly, and the trees were tall and green-leaved in the full vigor of summer. Directly outside the fortress, there were faint paths that led past the gates northward and westward, but the brothers had agreed that it didn’t seem likely that Elrond and Elros would stay on either of those paths. Neither of them had mentioned it, but Maglor knew they were both thinking it: they would have had a better chance at tracking and finding the twins if Celegorm was there. Grief rose in his throat more than once along the way; he could practically picture his younger brother a few paces ahead of him, pointing down at some sign on the ground and smiling back at him in an infuriatingly patronizing yet somehow innocent manner: See, Káno? Look at where the leaves have been disturbed. There are scuffs of mud on that rock. Come on, it’s not that difficult.

They came across the brook that wound through the forest, and after they crossed over it, Maglor stopped. “We should look for prints. You go that way, I’ll go this way,” Maglor instructed, and he and Maedhros walked in opposite directions. A few minutes later, Maedhros called for Maglor, and the younger Fëanorion quickly made his way over.

Small footprints could be seen by the water, imprinted in the soft, wet sand of the bank. There were also signs that the twins had gone further into the forest: crushed clover near the bank and broken twigs on bushes. Maedhros and Maglor followed the signs and continued calling for the twins. Maglor could hear both of their voices growing hoarser, and he forced himself to not simply yell as loud as he could, since that would strain his voice; he wanted to find the twins, of course, but he also wanted to preserve his voice long-term. He had had enough of it being damaged after the Dagor Bragollach.

Every so often, out of the corner of his eye, Maglor would hear or see sudden movement, and he would turn in mingled hope and fear; but it was only the tree branches rustling against each other in the breeze or a squirrel or rabbit darting through the undergrowth.

Once they came across the spot where the brook doubled back on itself, Maglor felt the panic he had been fighting until this point settling into his bones. Though the marks on the bank where they first came across the brook had indicated they were moving in the right direction, the fact that they had reached the water again was worrying; it was quite a distance from their first crossing. More worrying was the fact that neither elf could find any footprints or signs of the twins on either side of the brook.

They continued on, yet every minute they kept walking, Maglor could not keep from wondering if perhaps they had missed something when they crossed the brook again, and maybe they were now heading in the wrong direction. He paused from calling out for the half-elflings to suggest to Maedhros that they change course, but then he suddenly heard a small voice calling faintly in response, tinged with fear. “Maglor?”

Maedhros’ head jerked up, and he took off at a run with Maglor at his heels. That has to be Elros. Please let it be them…please let it be the twins…

The brothers burst into a small clearing bordered by a copse of trees, and they heard another call from ahead. “We’re over here!”

At first Maglor couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from, but then movement in his peripheral vision caught his eye. He spotted the twins in a badger-hole at the far edge of the clearing that was mostly hidden by a fallen log and ferns that had grown up around it. The crushing relief that came over him left him breathless and nearly lightheaded.

Then, he heard a choked sob to his left and turned to see Maedhros stumbling forward to the twins, with tears streaming down his face. Elrond and Elros looked rather surprised and alarmed to see the elder Fëanorion in such an emotional state, but they let him hug them tightly as he murmured to them in Quenya. “It’s okay, you’re okay, we’re going to bring you home and you’ll be safe…we found you…we found you…”

“Maedhros, you’re scaring them,” Maglor gently rebuked his brother as he more calmly approached. Inside, he felt like doing the same, but he kept it together for the sake of the twins.

Maedhros pulled back and attempted to compose himself. “Sorry,” he said quietly.

The twins glanced at each other, and then Elrond reached up a small hand to Maedhros’ cheek. “It’s okay.”

Maedhros shook his head, but the peredhil didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, little stars.” Maglor knelt down next to Maedhros and opened his arms to the twins, who scrambled out of the hole towards him. He held them close and breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of leaves and the soap he used for the twins’ hair. The feeling of their warm bodies and their breath against him was deeply comforting, and belatedly, he realized he was shaking. He forced himself to relax, and after another several seconds, he could start to feel his racing heart slow. It’s going to be okay. We found them. They’re not hurt, thank Eru.

Another minute or so passed before he relaxed his grip on the twins and looked down at them, his voice sharp. “What were you thinking, going into the forest without asking? Do you know how much you worried us?”

“We just wanted to play in the woods,” Elros complained.

“Yeah, we never get to come out here,” Elrond added. “We weren’t trying to run away, it’s just…it gets boring in the fortress sometimes.”

Maglor gave Maedhros a look over the twins’ heads. So this wasn’t an escape attempt.

In the early days of Elrond and Elros’ time at Amon Ereb, they had tried to escape several times. Maglor remembered the panic that had flooded his fëa whenever he found them missing, but they never got farther than the courtyard. He had never involved Maedhros in searching for them when they had escaped, since he hadn’t wanted to cause undue worry for his brother if the twins had not truly escaped the fortress. However, he suspected that Maedhros still knew, somehow.

“You shouldn’t have gone outside without us,” he scolded the small half-elflings. They both looked up at him with wide eyes, and he felt the overwhelming desire to protect them from anything that would try to harm them.

“It wasn’t our fault that Gwaedal wasn’t watching us properly,” Elros muttered with a scowl on his face as he picked at a loose thread on the front of Maglor’s tunic.

“He wasn’t?” Maedhros spoke up for the first time since he had apologized to the peredhil, his voice rough and hard.

The half-elflings glanced at each other quickly, and Maglor caught a flash of guilt in their eyes. “Was he truly not watching you? How did you get out of the fortress in the first place?” Maglor asked, realizing he hadn’t yet asked how they managed to slip out without being caught.

They both looked troubled, and then Elrond looked up at Maglor. “Well…um. We might have done our shimmer thing so we could get outside when someone opened the gate.”

Elros smacked Elrond’s shoulder. “Don’t tell him!”

“Elros, don’t hit your brother. What are you talking about?”

“The thing where we…shimmer. Like this.” Elrond narrowed his eyes in concentration, and suddenly he was…halfway gone. Maglor could still feel the weight of the elfling in his lap and the warmth in his arms, but it seemed like Elrond was flickering in and out of Maglor’s vision, and there was a faint glow around him.

“I can do it too.” Not to be outdone by his brother, Elros also demonstrated.

“Oh. I see.” Maglor was quite taken aback. Now that he thought about it, it did make sense that descendants of Melian would have some sort of Maiarin abilities. He glanced up at his brother, and saw a stunned expression on Maedhros’ face that mirrored his own. The twins became fully visible again in his arms.

“I think we owe Gwaedal an explanation.” Maglor sighed. Maedhros nodded, and Maglor didn’t miss the look of relief on his face.

Maglor gave the two half-elflings a stern look. “You two must apologize to Gwaedal. It was cruel to trick him to get out of the fortress, and it’s dangerous for you to be out here by yourselves. What if there were orcs around? What if you hadn’t been able to find your way back?” He didn’t want to scare them too much, but they needed to understand why they couldn’t go outside by themselves.

Both twins avoided meeting his eyes. “We’re sorry,” Elrond said as tears started to form in his eyes.

“I know,” Maglor responded, placing his hand over Elrond’s. “Still. You scared Maedhros and I very badly, and you could have gotten terribly hurt. So, no dessert tonight, and only one song at bedtime.”

Both twins looked quite disappointed, but they nodded solemnly in acceptance.

“You absolutely may not go outside the fortress without permission again or by yourselves. However, we can work time outside into the schedule during the week, if you would like.”

Once again, both twins nodded—vigorously this time—their hair flopping into their faces adorably. Maglor couldn’t help smiling down at them. “Alright. We can do that.”

Elros smiled back before asking, “Can we go home now?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, multiple things happened in quick succession: a sharp intake of breath from Maedhros, Elros’ smile immediately disappearing, and Elrond nudging his brother.

Before this, neither of the peredhil had ever called Amon Ereb home.

Maglor’s mouth nearly dropped open in shock, but he immediately responded, “Yes, we can go back now.” He gently stroked their heads and they relaxed, the momentary tension gone, before a small sniffle made all three of them look up. Maedhros was unsuccessfully attempting to hold back tears once again, and they coursed down his cheeks as tremors shook his body.

“Come here, Nelyo,” Maglor said quietly.

Both of the twins clearly recognized something was wrong, and when Maedhros moved closer, they turned to let him hug them. He reached out and touched them tentatively at first, and then without hesitation drew them tightly to his chest, closing his eyes and running his hand and the stump of his wrist along their shoulders and backs. Maglor watched as he let out a deep, shaky sigh, and then took several more deep breaths before his breathing fully evened out. If it had been comforting for Maglor to touch and hold the twins, he couldn’t imagine how much more so it would be for Maedhros.

Finally, Maedhros wiped his face and opened his eyes to look down at Elrond and Elros. “Please,” he said to them, voice shaking and low yet forceful, “Don’t ever, ever do that again.”

The half-elflings glanced at each other and then looked back up at him and chorused, “We won’t, we promise.”

Maedhros nodded slowly before lifting his head to meet Maglor’s eyes, clearly exhausted.

Maglor rose to his feet. “Let’s go home, little stars.”

---

That night, once Maglor had tucked the two sleepy half-elflings into their beds and given each of their heads a kiss goodnight, he wandered to Maedhros’ room and with a soft knock, let himself in. His brother was sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed, staring at the low flames in the fireplace. Maglor settled down next to him and handed him one of the mugs of tea he had made. His and Maedhros’ voices were still raspy, and warm tea with honey was one of the best ways to soothe sore vocal cords.

Maedhros accepted the tea and took several swallows of it, still watching the fire. “I do not think I could have borne it if we had not found them,” he said slowly.

“But we did,” Maglor reminded him. He hesitated before reaching out to his brother to put a hand in his hair and gently turn his head to look him in the eye. “The other twins may have been lost, but we found these ones today.”

Maedhros held his gaze for a moment before nodding. “We did.”

They turned back to face the hearth, and Maglor could sense that Maedhros was deep in thought. They both sipped their tea and watched the logs burning and crackling. After a while, Maedhros said, “I was considering Elrond and Elros’ ability to…’shimmer.’”

“Mhm?”

“Well…” Maedhros hesitated. “If they can do that, would it not be unreasonable to think that Eluréd and Elurín could do the same, if not better?”

Maglor did his best to keep his shock from showing on his face, for this was the first time since the kinslaying and loss of the twins in Doriath that Maedhros had mentioned them by name to him. “Yes,” he replied in as neutral a tone as he could muster.

Maedhros let out a sigh and bowed his head, setting his now-empty teacup on the floor. “Then perhaps that was why I could not find them. I…I heard no sounds, saw nothing in the woods when I searched.”

“Oh, Nelyo,” Maglor whispered, and reached up his hand to Maedhros’ face.

His brother looked up at him with tears in his eyes. “They must have been hiding. But…” he sniffed once, and a very faint smile started to form on his trembling lips. “Elrond and Elros didn’t hide from us.”

Hope stirred in Maglor’s chest. “No. No, they didn’t.”

Maedhros gave a short nod and turned to add more logs to the fire. That done, he sat back against the bed, and with the stronger light, Maglor could see Maedhros’ shoulders visibly relaxing and his posture softening. It seemed that finding the twins today was helping to ease the guilt and pain in his brother’s heart. Maglor knew that that could never fully take the memories of that winter in Doriath away, but he wished in earnest that Maedhros would find true, lasting peace.

In contrast, his fëa gradually grew more and more distressed. Perhaps it was reality settling in in a way that it never had before, since Maglor had not searched the woods of Doriath for Eluréd and Elurín, but he felt keenly how easily Elrond and Elros could have been lost today. He vividly recalled the utter fear that coursed through his body as they were searching and how it had threatened to paralyze him, and he could feel his heart pounding now at the memory. He knew in truth that he and Maedhros had found the twins before anything could happen to them, and that they were now safe and sound, but that logic couldn’t dispel the emotion building in his chest. Rather suddenly Maglor felt tears prickling behind his eyes. He sniffed and tilted his head back, trying to blink back the tears that threatened to fall.

He felt Maedhros stiffen beside him, and Maglor quickly wiped his eyes. He didn’t want to cause Maedhros to feel any discomfort on his behalf, so he rose to leave. “I’m sorry, I’ll just—”

Without a word, Maedhros pulled him back down and into his arms.

And with that, the last shred of Maglor’s composure was gone, and his tears flowed freely.

“Th-they could have died. They could have…been lost forever,” he sobbed.

Maedhros’ grip on him tightened, and he rested his head on top of Maglor’s.

“I-I love them, Maedhros. I don’t want them to disappear or get hurt, or…” Maglor took a deep, shuddering breath, before his next words tumbled out in a rush. “I don’t deserve to love them, and they shouldn’t be here, but they are, and I can’t help it.”

“I know,” Maedhros replied quietly. “And I care for them too. We cannot give them the life they deserve—that we stole from them—but nothing will harm them on my watch. Not if there is anything in my power to prevent it.”

Maglor nodded against his older brother’s chest.

After a few minutes, he whispered, “I love you, Nelyo.”

It had been so long since he heard Maedhros respond to any words of affection, but he knew he wasn’t imagining the deep rumble of his brother’s voice resonating in his chest as he replied, “I love you too, Káno.”

---

Chapter End Notes

 1) I’m not sure who made up the Fëanorions’ nickname for E&E (”little stars”)—that may have been JaztheBard?—but I’ve seen multiple authors using it. I absolutely love it and it’s a part of my adopted headcanons!

2) I have to say, when I was writing the twins’ “shimmer trick,” I couldn’t help but think of low-opacity Elrond in The Fellowship of the Ring movie XD

3) When writing the author’s notes for this chapter, I found a follow-up comic from the same artist who made the one I linked at the top. It’s from the point of view of the elf who was in charge of Elrond and Elros in the first comic. One could say that this is basically Gwaedal’s reaction after the whole escapade, except he's a Noldo and the elf in that comic is a Laiquendi elf XD

4) Speaking of Gwaedal: his name is an actual Sindarin name, and I intentionally picked it out! I used realelvish.net’s list of names. I started with a Quenya name, because I figured this character would be a Fëanorian, so he’d likely be a Noldo. His Quenya name is Súretal, which translates into Sindarin as Gwaedal, and it means Wind Foot. I chose it simply because I liked the name and I didn’t want it to have any deep emotional meaning, since he’s a pretty minor character.

Song-to-Scene Inspiration (for this chapter)

• Wild Spirit: Used during the search for the twins, generally starting once Maglor and Maedhros left Amon Ereb. The driving nature of this song was spot-on for Maglor and Maedhros tracking the twins. It's filled with determination, along with a touch of anxiety and desperation, and that's what I wanted to convey. It’s also one of Adrian Von Ziegler’s songs with a “woodland” or “forest” vibe, so that matches the environment Maglor and Maedhros are in while they search.
• Enathar: Used during the scene where Maglor and Maedhros found the twins and talked with them. This song didn't fit quite as well as the others, but when I was writing, the calm mood helped to ground me while working on it, especially after listening to Wild Spirit. There's a softness to the song that connected me to Maglor and Maedhros' emotions, and I liked that.
• Hope: Used during the scene where Maglor and Maedhros talk after finding the twins. The slow, thoughtful piano reflected Maglor and Maedhros' emotions and actions well, I think: specifically the way they interacted with each other, how their emotions shifted, and how they paid attention to each others' needs to be heard. The music also swells slowly, which felt right for how Maglor's emotions grew more intense through the scene.

Second/alternate version of “…and Found” coming tomorrow, along with an explanation of why I wrote a second version! :)

Chapter 3: ...and Found (Alternate Version)

In Chapter 3, "…and Found", Maglor discovers Elrond and Elros are missing; he and Maedhros search for the twins, but will history repeat itself? - Alternate version of chapter 2!

There's more details below, but feel free to skip and move on to the chapter.

This alternate version of “…and Found” was born when I was working on the original draft. At the time, I had written a sentence about the trees swaying in the wind as Maedhros and Maglor walked out into the courtyard. It made me think about the way the wind picks up before a thunderstorm, blowing leaves everywhere, and then I thought: “Wait. What if there was a thunderstorm when they went to find the twins?” And then I thought: “And what if…there were orcs? Wouldn’t THAT be particularly angsty?” And I knew I had to write it.

However, I was over halfway done with the original draft, and I really wanted to keep it, so I decided to write an alternate version. This is set during the same time and the primary difference is the inclusion of those two elements—and, I’d say, how Maglor and Maedhros react ;)

Character Nicknames:

• Maedhros = Nelyo (short for Nelyafinwë, his father-name)
• Maglor = Káno (short for Kanafinwë, his father-name)

Songs Used as Inspiration

For this chapter:

• Children of Darkness
• Enathar
• Rebirth

All songs composed by Adrian Von Ziegler. Full playlist link here.

Read Chapter 3: ...and Found (Alternate Version)

Maglor hurried along the corridor and entered Maedhros’ study with a brief knock to announce his arrival. The news he had was about the twins, and although he and Maedhros had argued multiple times about how attached he was to them—the most recent being only the day before—this was too important to keep from him.

“Maedhros,” he said carefully, trying not to betray the panic he felt, “Elrond and Elros are missing. They aren’t in the fortress. We—I—must go out to look for them.”

“What?” Maedhros looked up sharply from the parchment he had been writing on.

“I said, the twins are—”

“I know.” Maedhros was already pushing back his chair and rising to his feet. “When did you last see them?”

“They were playing in the courtyard, under Gwaedal’s watch.”

“I should have known we couldn’t trust him,” Maedhros growled before moving past Maglor down the hall.

Maglor had to increase his strides to catch up to his taller brother, who was walking quickly.

“I don’t think he did anything…” Maglor tried to interject.

Maedhros pushed through the doors that led to the courtyard, and Maglor blinked against the warm summer wind blowing in their faces. The tall branches of the trees beyond the walls swayed against the cloudy, gray sky, and leaves drifted through the air to settle on the ground. A few elves moved through the courtyard to carry out various tasks. Gwaedal was waiting nearby, twisting his hands together anxiously.

Maedhros strode up to the elf and roughly grabbed his collar. “What did you to do to them?” he demanded.

“My—my lord, I—” Gwaedal sputtered, trying vainly to free himself as others around them stared.

“Maedhros, that’s enough,” Maglor said firmly, pulling him off the startled elf. “We’ll take care of this later. Right now, we need to search for the twins.” He understood his brother’s concern, however. After the negligence—no, it was more than that, it was intended cruelty—of Celegorm’s servants, any elf who was responsible in any way for children that went missing would be suspicious to Maedhros.

“I’m sorry,” Gwaedal said miserably, his face a picture of contrition. “I was watching them, I promise.”

“I believe you,” Maglor responded. Maedhros didn’t make a sound, but his dark expression conveyed his doubt. “Come on, Maedhros.”

He moved towards the gate that opened to the woods, but stopped when he heard Maedhros’ voice. “Wait.”

Maglor turned, confused, to see Maedhros walking back into the fortress. “What are you doing?”

“We can’t go without supplies. Don’t you ever think these things through? Use your brain, Maglor.”

Usually, Maglor would have made a retort at his brother’s sharp tone and the jab, but the situation was dire and there was no time for petty arguing. He followed him back inside, and Maedhros started listing things they would need. “Alright, we have no idea how long we’ll be out there. We should bring torches. And food and water. And extra clothes. They might need them.” The brothers had reached Maedhros’ bedroom, and the elder Fëanorion grabbed an empty pack from under his bed. “Can you get their clothes?”

“Yes.” Realization struck Maglor that these were all things that Maedhros would likely have brought with him when he searched for Eluréd and Elurín if he had planned ahead, and he wondered how long his brother had been preparing for this exact scenario. “I’ll be right back.”

Once the two elves had collected everything they needed, they left Amon Ereb and strode off into the surrounding forest as the wind picked up and pushed against their backs.

---

They called for the twins, and both of their voices grew rougher and more frantic the more they called. And if Maglor heard Maedhros call out for Eluréd or Elurín once or twice—well, he certainly wasn’t going to say anything. There really wasn’t anything he could do for him, and he knew that Maedhros would hate him bringing attention to his slip into memories, even if it was only in concern.

The unspoken question hung in the air: would history repeat itself, and another pair of twins would be lost forever?

Maglor didn’t voice this to Maedhros, but he was anxious that the twins wouldn’t respond to their calls. Although their last escape attempt was at least three weeks ago, if not more, he couldn’t be sure that this wasn’t an escape attempt. He had to push down the rising guilt that nagged insistently at his mind: The twins have the right to want to escape. We killed their family, their people. All the same, he knew how much more terrible it would be if they could not find them. Even if they had to be dragged back kicking and screaming—which he fervently hoped would not need to happen—at least they would be safe.

The farther they traveled and the darker the sky became, the more uneasy Maglor grew. Rain began to fall, lightly at first, and then harder and harder. Maglor knew Maedhros’ shoulder was almost definitely aching, as it tended to do in this sort of weather, but one glance at his brother showed only determination written in his features. Even if he was in discomfort, no pain or tiredness would stop him from searching for the twins.

Besides the pain in Maedhros’ shoulder, the rain and wind created another problem: it made the twins much harder to track. Although the Fëanorians agreed that Elrond and Elros were not likely to stay on the paths outside the fortress that led northward and westward, and they had quickly found the place where the twins had disappeared into the woods, they couldn’t be sure of the direction the peredhel had gone. The rain had washed away footprints, and it made it harder to see any possible signs that could point them the right way. Again and again, Maglor had to push away the troubling thought that they could be going the wrong way completely and would never know. It had occurred to him that splitting up would allow him and Maedhros to cover more ground, but immediately he had dismissed that: he would never—could never—allow Maedhros go on his own to search for missing twins again, let alone ask him to, and truth be told, he felt safer with his brother out here in the forest.

He and Maedhros came across the stream that wound through the woods, and the elves paced back and forth across both sides of the water for several minutes to no avail. Neither could find any footprints on the muddy banks or signs of a trail into the forest, and both paused to listen to their surroundings, but the only sound was the rain falling on the rushing water and bushes around them. “Damn it,” Maedhros growled.

Maglor sighed in frustration. “Looking here any further is pointless. Let’s keep moving.”

As they trekked further into the forest, lightning forked through the sky over a nearby hill, and a threatening rumble of thunder followed.

Maedhros muttered under his breath, “They’re scared of storms.”

Maglor took a deep breath to try to quell his anxiety. He didn’t want to think of Elrond and Elros huddling together in the rain, frightened and shaking. Only a week ago, during a stormy night, he had heard a soft knock on his door and opened it to find the two half-elflings holding onto each other, trying not to cry. He had comforted them, and they quickly fell asleep afterwards, but the prominent part of the memory that stuck out to him now was their fearful expressions. “Hopefully that means that if they hear us, they will call out to us.”

The rain poured ever harder and the sky cracked with thunder. The torches the Fëanorians had lit earlier in their search flickered and sputtered.

In desperation, Maglor prayed to the Valar that they would find the twins. Please, have mercy on them. For their sake, not for ours.

Lightning flashed overhead once again, and a split second later an earth-shattering crack of thunder boomed.

Moments after, a high-pitched, terrified scream ripped through the trees.

The twins—it has to be them, it has to be!

Adrenaline shot through Maglor, and he and Maedhros took off at a dead run towards the source of the scream. Leaves and branches pelted Maglor’s face along with the rain, but he barely noticed. What he did register, however, were the hulking shadows that loomed ahead down the shallow slope, moving intently towards whatever—whoever—was under the overhang to their left…

“HEY!” Maglor yelled.

One of the shadows turned to face him and Maedhros, and the glint of orc eyes stared back. Guttural snarls erupted.

The brothers drew their swords without slowing, and they fell upon the closest orcs with fury. There weren’t many in the orc pack—less than ten, Maglor guessed—but they were fierce, and it was dark and wet. Maglor soon found himself back-to-back with Maedhros as they fought, and the stench of orc-breath and the feeling of rain and blood spattering on his face drove him on. Behind him, he heard more rustling, and muffled voices.

“Stop it!”

“Let us go—”

Maglor managed to work his way out past Maedhros so they were no longer at each other’s backs, and he slashed at the orc in front of him.

“Help!”

Maglor turned and saw Elrond and Elros hanging from the arms of two orcs dragging them off. Without a moment’s pause, on pure instinct, he answered with a sharp cry carrying notes of Song, his voice strong with power. The sound echoed through the forest around them, and the orcs holding the twins stumbled.

(If he had been paying attention to the fighting behind him, he would have seen the other orcs flinching back in pain and Maedhros pausing to look at him with a stunned expression.)

(If he had stopped to think, he would have realized that the last time he’d used his voice in battle like that was centuries ago.)

In a flash, the twins wriggled out of the grasp of the orcs. Maglor sprinted towards them and stabbed the first orc, who bellowed in anger at the sting of his blade. As he fought, he could hear the sounds of Maedhros finishing off the others behind him, and a few moments later, Maglor managed to kill his opponent. Even as the orc took its last breath, Maglor whirled around to see the other lumbering towards the twins. Before he could move a muscle, Maedhros launched himself at the second orc, and the force of his leap knocked it off its feet. A brief scuffle ensued before Maedhros was able to get the upper hand, and then, with a single, fierce movement, he buried his dagger in the orc’s heart.

“Not this time,” Maedhros growled, eyes hard and sharp with the light of the Trees as he stared down the dying monster. “Never. Again.”

The forest was then silent but for the sounds of rain pattering and Maedhros breathing heavily.

“Mag–lor–”

Maglor’s heart twisted in his chest as he heard Elros sobbing out his name from where he and his twin were crouched on the forest floor, and he ran to the twins and dove to his knees to hug them. They were both crying noisily, and Maglor himself could not hold back the tears running down his face in relief. “Elrond. Elros. Elrond, Elros,” he kept repeating, unable to stop the torrent of emotions flooding through him. They’re safe, they’re alive, we found them…

“We’re sorry,” Elrond cried. “W-we didn’t mean to get lost.”

“Oh, little stars…”

Maglor was relieved to hear it was not an escape attempt, but he was puzzled as to why and how they had left the fortress. The same thing seemed to dawn on the twins simultaneously, for Elros suddenly drew back from Maglor’s embrace, alarm in his eyes. “Please don’t be angry, p-please, we promise to be good—”

Elrond also backed away, and he grabbed his brother’s hand, his eyes wide. “We won’t ever run off again, it was my idea to explore the forest but we got lost, don’t hurt Elros—”

Maglor suddenly became acutely aware of how he must appear to them in this moment: tall and scary and covered in blood and rain and, most of all, powerful.

Yet he felt more helpless now than he had at any point in their search.

The familiar feeling of self-loathing rose within him, but he swallowed it down and took a deep breath—now was not the time to get caught up in it.

“I’m not going to hurt or punish you, and neither is Maedhros.” He spread his arms open, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible, aware of his brother standing behind him. “We were very worried about you.”

The twins hesitated, looking very much like they wanted to be certain of that, and then thunder rumbled off in the distance. Both peredhil immediately scrambled back towards Maglor, and he wrapped his arms around them tightly. One of them—Maglor couldn’t tell which in the darkness—involuntarily whimpered.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay,” Maglor soothed. “It can’t hurt you. I’m here.”

He stroked their wet heads and their backs, and they curled into him, trembling. The tears on Maglor’s face mingled with the rain, and he could still feel his heart pounding as the adrenaline slowly wore off. He wished he could keep the twins in his arms here forever; he felt keenly aware just how easily Elrond and Elros could have been lost to him and Maedhros for good. If they had arrived only a few minutes later…he shuddered. The thought didn’t bear considering any further.

He hugged the twins tighter.

A moment later, Maedhros knelt down in front of him, his eyes filled with relief. He slowly reached out to the twins while looking at Maglor, tilting his head in a questioning manner. Maglor murmured to the peredhil, “Maedhros is here too, and he’d like to hug you, if you let him.”

They both nodded against his chest, and Maglor met his brother’s eyes in assurance.

Maedhros leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Maglor so that Elrond and Elros were encircled by the two Fëanorions, and then he rested his head lightly against the twins’ backs, breathing out a heavy sigh as if the weight of the world had just been lifted from his shoulders. He squeezed Maglor’s shoulder briefly before releasing it to simply rest his hand on his brother. Every movement was slow and gentle—the opposite of the quick and fierce warrior he had been moments ago.

And there the four of them remained until the twins had calmed and they began to squirm. “Are you ready to go back to the fortress now?” Maglor asked them.

“Yes,” Elrond said with a yawn, and his brother nodded in agreement.

Maglor expected—and secretly hoped—they would like to be carried, so he shifted his arms to hold them better when he stood up. But then, as Maedhros and Maglor pulled apart, both half-elflings turned to embrace Maedhros, to the Fëanorions’ surprise.

“We want Maedhros to carry us.”

“Yeah, ‘cause he’s bigger and scarier than you.”

“So any orcs out there won’t get us.”

Maglor nearly laughed, but held back because he knew their expression of desire for what it was: they trusted Maedhros.

Maedhros looked like he was on the verge of tears now, and Maglor watched him take a deep breath. Elrond, ever the sensitive one, asked, “Are you okay?”

Maedhros stared at him for a moment before letting out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Yes, of course—I should be asking if you are okay, little star.”

Maglor’s ears perked up. This was the first time that Maedhros had called either of the twins by the nickname he had given them.

“We’re okay now,” Elros said, snuggling into Maedhros’ shoulder.

The twins clung to Maedhros’ neck as he gathered them into his arms, and upon standing, he froze for an instant. Maglor immediately knew why, because this had happened to him too when he held the twins for the first time—he had been transported back years and years ago, to a different time and place where he had held a different set of twins, their hair red instead of dark brown, their faces showing much more prominent features of Finwë than these two.

Then Maedhros adjusted his grip on Elrond and Elros so he was holding them more securely, and he nodded to Maglor.

And so they began their long walk back to the fortress.

---

That night, once Maglor had tucked the two sleepy half-elflings into their beds and given each of their heads a kiss goodnight, he wandered to Maedhros’ room and with a soft knock, let himself in. His brother was sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed, staring at the flames in the fireplace. Maglor settled down next to him.

They both sat in silence for a long while.

“I never heard them.”

Maglor turned to look at his brother, who had not shifted his gaze from the hearth, deep in thought. He wanted to ask what Maedhros meant, but he held his tongue. He had a suspicion he knew, anyway.

“All that time I was out there, searching for them and calling and calling, I never heard a sound. And why would I? Surely they had been trained from birth to fear Fëanorians.” Disgust dripped from his final words, clearly directed at himself.

The wood cracked in the fireplace with a spray of embers.

“I kept thinking of how I would find them. Curled under a tree, perhaps. I thought I might have to…to—” his voice broke. His next words were so low and thick that Maglor could barely make them out. “To chase them.”

He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his forehead on them. Maglor remained silent, and a minute later, Maedhros sniffled and raised his head slightly to draw his arm across his face.

As much as he wanted to comfort his brother, he knew Maedhros disliked others being present when he cried, so Maglor started to move to get up. “I…I can leave. I don’t want to cause you any discomfort.” He placed his hand on Maedhros’ shoulder, but as he rose to leave, his brother grabbed his hand unexpectedly.

Maglor looked down to see tears gathering in Maedhros’ eyes.

“Káno. Please, stay.”

Maglor’s heart thumped once, twice, painfully in his chest as he immediately knelt down to take his brother’s face in his hands. Maedhros immediately leaned into him, pressing his face into Maglor’s chest, not bothering to try to hide the sobs that began to rack his body. Maglor wrapped his arms around Maedhros, and his brother grasped onto his tunic with his hand.

“I lost them, I lost them, I lost them.”

“I know,” Maglor whispered. He paused before deciding to speak the words that had risen to his tongue. “But we found these twins.”

Maedhros sniffed sharply and spoke again, his voice tinged with frustration. “Don’t you understand? I can never rescue them. I can never find them.”

“I know, Nelyo. I know.” Maglor’s voice was sorrowful. “I’m so sorry.”

Maedhros’ sobs resumed with a greater intensity, and Maglor simply let him cry as he held him. The two brothers sat together, their silence only broken by the wood occasionally shifting in the hearth and Maedhros’ quiet gasps for air.

Once Maedhros’ tears had largely ceased, Maglor admitted in a low voice, “I was terrified we wouldn’t find the twins today.” He felt Maedhros nod against him with a shudder before clinging to him more tightly.

Several minutes later, he heard Maedhros say, “You were right, though.”

Puzzled, Maglor leaned back to look down at Maedhros, and Maedhros took the opportunity to sit up and wipe his eyes. They were red and still had a film of tears, but Maedhros’ voice didn’t shake when he said, “We did find Elrond and Elros.”

“That we did.”

“And they didn’t run. Or hide from us. At all.” Maedhros looked at Maglor in wonder before shaking his head in disbelief. “They actually wanted me to hold them. Th-they wanted me to carry them back.” He sniffed again and took a deep breath.

Maglor smiled softly at him with a nod. “Yes. I think they enjoyed it.”

“I…” Maedhros trailed off, looking torn between finishing the thought and keeping it to himself. Maglor said nothing, only waiting patiently. There was a pause for several seconds, and then: “I…I love them. I love them, Maglor,” Maedhros confessed quietly. “I would give my life to protect them.”

Joy rushed through Maglor to hear what he had told Maedhros in one of their latest arguments over the twins: that he loved Elrond and Elros and would keep them safe at all costs, regardless of any objections. At the time, Maglor had held back from confronting Maedhros about his own care for the peredhil, since he knew it would only result in angry denial. However, it appeared that nearly losing them had caused Maedhros to realize that whether he wanted to or not, he did love them.

And it seemed to Maglor that he did want to.

He pulled Maedhros closer and rested his forehead against his brother’s. “I know. I would too.”

They stayed together like that for some time until there were only ashes and a few embers left in the fireplace. Maedhros lifted his head and kissed Maglor’s forehead, before whispering, “Thank you. I love you, Káno.”

Warm affection bloomed in Maglor’s chest, and he whispered back, “And I you, Nelyo. And I you.”

---

Chapter End Notes

Other titles for this chapter that I considered were “…and Found (Angstier Version)” or “…and Found (Thunderstorm Version)” XD ‘Alternate Version’ works just fine, though.

For anyone with a laser eye for continuity and wondered what happened to the torches Maglor and Maedhros were carrying before they attacked the orcs, let’s just say the torches sputtered out or they threw them at the orcs. There just wasn’t a good place to mention anything about them at the time. Or when they were heading back to the fortress—just imagine Maglor lighting a torch to carry while Maedhros carries the twins XD

And later on, Maglor and Maedhros did find out about the twins’ “shimmer trick” and had them apologize to Gwaedal, like in the first version of “…and Found”. In this version, though, Maglor didn’t punish them; it was quite enough for Elrond and Elros to get lost in the forest and then nearly get killed by orcs, and during a thunderstorm no less.

Song-to-Scene Inspiration (for this chapter)

• Children of Darkness: Used during the search for the twins, generally starting once Maglor and Maedhros left Amon Ereb, all the way through their attack on the orcs. I absolutely love the spooky tones of this song; it's exactly the kind of haunting, "scary" vibe that I like for songs like this, and it fit the mood I was going for very, very well. In the scene, the stakes grow ever higher as the storm approaches and Maglor and Maedhros attack the orcs, and you can really feel that mirrored in the song. I looped most of the songs when writing the scenes, but I think this one got looped the most (in part because it’s the shortest song of the playlist).
• Enathar: Used during the scene where Maglor and Maedhros comfort the twins after rescuing them (again). The song fits much better for this version of Found, I think. It's a differently emotionally charged scene than the original, and Enathar somehow just feels more right to me with this version. There's a greater level of emotion felt by the twins and Maglor, and it's night and it's raining, so I think those factors play into it. The background singing also reminds me a bit of Elvish sung or spoken in the Lord of the Rings movies, which provides a nice touch.
• Rebirth: Used during the scene where Maglor and Maedhros talk after finding the twins. I considered writing the scene while listening to Hope, and I think I might have at first, but this song felt more right. It's a little more agitated sounding at times, with the drums and more musical intensity, and that matches the mood well. This scene is focused on Maedhros' trauma and his need to let his emotions out, and this song helped me reach his feelings. (And the name ‘Rebirth’ seems rather appropriate for Maedhros in this scene, where he is processing and accepting his emotions.)

If you haven’t listened to the songs on the playlist I made for this fic, I definitely suggest you do. I can’t pick a favorite, but out of the songs for each chapter, here’s the ones that I think fit them/the scenes I used them for the best:
1) …Lost: Lost (because it’s the only song I had for it, but even if there were others I think this would be the best)
2) …and Found: Hope
3) …and Found (Alternate Version): Children of Darkness or Enathar

I debated whether or not to mention another song here, because it’s very different from all the ones I’ve listed so far and I didn’t include it on the playlist, but why not: while writing about Maedhros wanting Maglor to stay with him in the final scene of this chapter, I thought of song The Run and Go by Twenty One Pilots. It did not directly inspire any of the scenes in the story, but on reflection, the lyrics fit Maedhros pretty well in both “Lost…” and both versions of Found, especially the second one. So, one could consider it to be the “end credits” song for this fic XD

To everyone who’s read this far, thank you for getting all the way through this fic! (And through these ridiculously long author's notes!!) It’s my first published Tolkien fic, and I’m so happy with it :) It took quite a while to write (especially once I decided to write this chapter), but I didn’t rush the process and I think the story is better because of it.