Come Together, Broken Things, and Grow by UnicornsInSpace  

Chapter 6

This takes place during the 3rd Kinslaying.

Prompt – You are better than this

538 of the First Age – The Havens of Sirion

            Maedhros saw a woman sat on a horse, alone on the crest of a hill near the Havens. She had a face like Morwen Eledhwen in her youth, solemn and hauntingly beautiful, but the light of the Eldar shone from it. The sun sparkled as it hit her dark hair. It was braided in an elaborate Telerin fashion with pearls and seashells woven into it, tucked behind ears that were rounded to a point. There was something of Huor and Húrin in her form and build, and yet it also had all the grace and elegance of the House of Finarfin. Anger and passion burned in her dark eyes.

This must be Finduilas’s peredhel, he thought.

He had heard she married Húrin's son Túrin after Nargothrond’s fall and had a daughter by him. And somehow they had ended up here.

            “How dare you come here, to massacre your own kin, in the last haven of elven-kind east of the sea?” the peredhel woman growled. “Who knew even you could stoop so low?”

            “We have come only to claim what is rightfully ours.” Maedhros said.

            After all those Union meetings he spent with Húrin, he certainly never expected to become a villain to the noble lord’s granddaughter. That showed just how far he had fallen.

            “You come to kill, pillage, and plunder. I will not let you.” She shot back. Her voice grew and she spoke again. “Challenge me and face the wrath of all the elves and humans who you would wrong!”

            Her voice pierced the air and sent a rush of terror through the ranks of Fëanorian soldiers. She raised her sword.

            “FOR QUEEN ELWING!” She bellowed.

            Her eyes burned like fire and she gleamed like starlight. The call sent some of the troops scattering, turning tail and running away like madness had taken over them.

            “No, come back!! COME BACK!!” Maedhros yelled.

            None of those that bolted listened. There must have been some spell in her voice that compelled them- he knew that Káno’s music could have a similar effect. Those that stayed charged her, but were shot with arrows from unseen archers, or caught in battle by warriors coming out of hidden places. The side of her mouth quirked up in a wry smile. He was knocked off his horse, and when he looked back, she was gone.

            He crested the hill on foot, and tried to follow her, but she was far too fast for him on horseback. Out of the corner of his eye, there was a flash of auburn hair not unlike his own. It had disappeared behind a wall. He ran in the direction, fast as he could, until he cleared the wall and saw her clearly before him with his elven eyes.

            It was his niece. Moryo’s peredhel. It hit Maedhros now, as it had the first time he saw her, just how much Meleth looked like his mother. Her large frame and auburn hair. His caring, wise, Ammë. She knew chasing the Silmarils would only lead them to ruin, and loudly proclaimed it. If only they had listened. He was beyond the point of no return now, having slaughtered so many, and led almost all his brothers to their deaths. His niece had clearly inherited his Ammë’s sense. She stood resolutely between him and Elwing’s boys. They were some distance off, but not too far for them to speak.

            “You are better than this, uncle!” She beseeched him.

            “Am I really, though?” He snarked. 

             “Leave them be, they are only children!” 

            So this is what she thought of him? Of course after living so long in Gondolin, and among the Doriathrim, she would assume the worst of him.

            “I only want the Silmaril.”

            “They do not have it, uncle. Leave them be.”

            Maedhros was struggling for an answer to that, when something large slammed him into the ground. His armor clanged against itself as the earth crumpled beneath his large frame. His sword was thrown from his hand. He looked up and saw a large falcon grabbing Elwing’s boys in its talons and taking off. It looked at him with glowing, starry eyes. One of Dior’s boys. He felt the pressure release from his back, and turned to see another giant falcon fly over to Meleth and grab her. She sheathed her sword and looked back at him with anger and sorrow. Or maybe it was disappointment he saw in his niece’s eyes. He would be disappointed with himself, too. Did she know how reluctant Moryo was to attack Doriath, which she must know led to his death? If so, it would give her even the more reason to think poorly of his character. This was his lot in life. Reduced to a murderer too vile for even his own family to trust.

            He did not know how long it was after that until he heard a familiar voice in his ear.

            “Nelyo?” Maglor was approaching him tentatively from behind.

            “Yes, háno?” Maedhros responded, realizing then that he was still lying with his body splayed across the ground. “I am unharmed, just thrown to the ground.”

            “Good, very good…” He knew from Maglor’s tone that something he did not like had happened.

            “What is it?”

            “Queen Elwing flew over the sea with the Silmaril. She turned into a seabird. I saw it myself.”

            He sat up and said nothing.

            “Good. At least it cannot compel us anymore,” Maedhros said at length, “Pull back all the troops and retreat.”

            “Right at once, háno.”