A Man Who Flies From His Fear May Find He Has Only Taken A Shortcut To Meet It by LadySternchen  

Ghosts- Caranthir/ Maglor

”There are no such things as ghosts. ‘Tis a tale the Mortals tell. How can a grown Elf believe in such a thing?” Curvo scoffs, to snickers from Turko.

Moryo scowls, his arms crossed before his chest. Trust this to happen if ever he were to confide in this ruthless pack that call themselves his brothers.

“I wonder, does that mean that the Valar and Maiar are actually ghosts? I mean, bodyless figures that can show themselves at will does quite fit the description.” Pityo muses, to renewed giggles from his twin and Curvo, though this successfully wipes the smirk off Turko’s face.

Russo does not smile, though. He looks darkly at them all, and even Moryo, who is confident that he has done nothing wrong for a change, feels cowed. Ever since his return to good health, his eldest brother is nothing short of terrifying.

“Lucky fools you all are, if you believe the fear of foul things that haunt your thoughts to be a laughing matter.”

Pity stirs in Moryo, a feeling he is admittedly not all too familiar with. Russo never talks of his captivity and the torture he has known there, but his scars and the screams at night tell the story sufficiently.

What Russo is referring to is not at all what Moryo has meant, though.

At first, it was only nightmares, fading figures slinking in and out of his dreams, singing an eerie lament, cuts and slashes still oozing blood, their empty eyes fixed accusingly at him.

Murderer! Kinslayer!

Next came the reflections in the water, whenever they got close to a stream or a lake, though he had explained that away, too. That witch in her woods has had ages to bewitch all the bodies of water in Beleriand, and coming to think of it, he would not put it past Ulmo to make him see things, either.

Today though, on his way to this very meeting, he has seen them with his waking eye, lurking between the trees, their wispy hands stretched out towards him.

Murderer! Kinslayer!

When Moryo looks up at his brothers to frown at them some more, however, his eyes meet Káno’s, and by the look on his brother’s pale face, Moryo knows that he is not the only one who is being haunted.

~~~

Moryo does not know, of course, that Makalaurë’s ghost is not one of the Teleri they have slain on their ships, not even the crown prince who has died a slow and torturous death through his sword. No, Makalaurë would gladly exchange his ghost for any of them, even have Elulindo mar his every song and play. Not that he would put that past him. But no, nothing is worse than the ghost of his grandfather that ever accompanies him, never speaking, but weeping, with a pain in his eyes that is worse to bear than anything else.