To Erase Him by ExileInValariandë  

(The beginning)

The night had been lovely. Fëanor and his sons had hosted a gathering at their home in Tirion - a lavish dinner thrown in honor of Maedhros and his newly betrothed, Nendalin. For a rare moment Fëanor had been pulled from his crafting of the Silmarils. There was abundant food and song, a bit of banter and bickering. But mostly celebration. Despite the laughter and merriment however, the hour grew late. Fëanor’s mind drifted back to work yet undone in his forge, and away from his family. He pulled Maedhros aside to request his help. The eldest son of Fëanor was often given the most responsibilities. Nendalin was wanted back home, still living with her own family. She smiled sweetly at her future mother in law Nerdanel, giving thanks for the hospitality of the house of Fëanor, and bid her goodbyes. Maedhros held his beloved close in his strong arms on the balcony outside, her long light brown hair shining in the light of the two Trees.

“Father requests my assistance on his project, else I would gladly see you home safely.” he whispered into her hair, golden lashes covering his blue eyes as he looked down. She smiled.

“I shall find my way safely enough… besides, I have nothing to fear here in Tirion.” She glanced up at him, her own grey eyes full of love.

“… perhaps I simply wanted an excuse to continue our time together this evening…” Maedhros smirked knowingly down at her from his great height.

He was beautiful. Tall and strong, the fair image of his father with the long wavy deep red locks of his mother Nerdanel. His eyes were serious with a sweetness behind them.

“We shall have many evenings, my love.” Nendalin assured him.

She had loved him from the moment they met, many years prior. But their love was taken to a new height this evening, bound now in an oath of promise to be wed. Promise to spend eternity at one another’s side. So innocent were those days of the Trees, that it seemed no ill would ever come to them or their kin. How little they knew. Reluctantly, they parted ways that evening. Nendalin strode peacefully under the evening light of the trees, a song in her heart. She dreamed of bearing Maedhros children, she dreamed of their future in Valinor. The air was sweet and crisp, late summer passing into autumn. The wind caught her dark blue velvet cloak, as she quickly pulled it around herself.

“Wait!” She was startled suddenly by a familiar voice calling out to her with quickened steps behind her. Curufin.

Curufin was Maedhros’ younger brother- the spitting image and manner of their father Fëanor- the good and the bad. Nendalin swallowed hard, as a warning crept into her heart. She knew all of the sons of Feanor very well, but she was most uneasy around Curufin. He stole looks in her direction and made comments designed to wound Maedhros in her presence. She always felt he held some ill will or design. He seemed to have a darkness cloaked around his heart and being. Simply put, she did not trust him.

“You walk alone?” Curufin asked, feigning innocence. The night wind blew his long black hair about his face and blazing grey eyes. Nendalin’s heart beat fast in her chest, but she didn’t let her fear betray her outwardly.

“I do….I am but a short distance from my home, I fear not the night.” she smiled a forced smile, attempting to walk on.

“Ah, but perhaps there is some wisdom in fear. For we know not all that creeps in the night… even in Valinor, my lady.”

With this she swallowed hard, feeling his ill intent. She began to walk further down the path.

“I really must get ho-“ Nendalin began, but was cut off by Curufin’s rough hands pulling her into the wood.

It all happened so fast. It happened as a blur and a dream. A nightmare unfolding on the very hallowed grounds of the Valar. To Nendalin, it unfolded in bursts; her memory attempting to protect her from the horror. There in the dark seclusion of the woods outside Tirion, Curufin son of Feanor, took his brother’s betrothed in body with a vicious assault. It was fast and angry, and full of his malice built up over years of jealousy. Jealousy that his older brother held that which he coveted. Nendalin. Her hand and cheek scraped against the tree as he overpowered her from behind, whispering his poison in her ear. She cried, in fear of her life and in helplessness. She tried to fight him, but his strength was too much. So Nendalin, though fierce of spirit and heart, endured this horror. Within moments it was over, but it felt like a lifetime. He threw her to the ground, striding off with a sense of revenge quenched. Revenge he felt he was entitled to, as his brother had won the woman he had secretly loved.

And Nendalin was alone.

She cried hot tears, the forest ground a blur beneath her. Her body shook in shock, as she took stock of her torn dress and pained body. Blood dripped from her cheek. She feared she would never be found- but within minutes she was not alone. Heavy, quickened steps approached and her heart stopped, fearing it was Curufin. She felt sick.

“My love!” Maedhros called out, searching the thick trees in the near dark. His black cloak was wrapped about him, the night wind picking up and blowing it around.

Nendalin could not answer. She felt she was dreaming, her spirit having left the present as an act of self preservation. But he found her. He found her in pieces on the ground, covered in dirt, her hair a mess. In Maedhros’ heart horror overcame him. And fierce anger. He had run from the house, seeking to return a trinket she had left behind at dinner. When she was not on the path, his heart knew something was amiss. He had no idea the horrible truth of just what. His jaw tensed, as he crouched over her and gathered her form into his lap.

“You are hurt, Nendalin…you- who has done this wrong to you?” His sweet concern turned to darkness in his eyes. She could not meet his eyes. She shook with tears, burying her face in his strong chest. Her wrapped her in his black cloak, kissing her head tenderly. His light eyes burned with rage.

“I do not know why he has done this.” Nendalin sobbed, finally meeting his gaze.

In mere moments all of her world was shattered. All of her hopes and dreams, all of her sense of self. Taken by force.

“Who has done this?” Maedhros spoke plainly, his blue gaze burning a hole in hers.

“Curufin.” Nendalin broke, breaking into a sob again.

Maedhros could not believe the words. They came in slow motion, as the realization hit him. And he knew with a deep pain in his heart that his brother had betrayed him in a way which was unspeakable. He had taken the innocence of the elleth he loved. His face felt hot, and a fire raged within him, as he picked Nendalin up and began carrying her down the path and out of the wood. He stared blankly ahead, a man possessed.

“I did not know he followed me, a’maelamin (my beloved)!” Nendalin cried, fearing Maedhros' anger might be toward her.

“My anger is not at you, melamin” Maedhros snapped, finally meeting her gaze as he cradled and carried her in his arms. His strong brow was furrowed.

Within minutes they were returned to the house of Fëanor, much to the dismay of Nendalin. But Maedhros avoided the front entrance, instead turning on the path toward his own abode. You see, at this time the sons of Fëanor all lived within the grounds of the central home, the older sons with separate chambers. Relief washed over Nendalin, yet she still feared where Curufin might be.

“You are safe now, melamin… please lay down…” Maedhros mummered, placing her gently upon his velvet bed, lost in his own swirling thoughts.

He looked distant and shocked. He paced the floor, beginning to brew tea for his love, clearly unaccustomed to having to prepare things himself. He fumbled a bit, pouring the steaming water in a clay mug. Nendalin watched him in silence, as he pulled a warm blanket about her and finally sat beside her on the bed.

“Are you alright?” he half whispered, finally meeting her gaze. His voice was broken, guilt and anger consuming him. He pushed a strand of light brown hair from her face.

“I’m frightened Maedhros…. I feel… ashamed.” she swallowed, unable to meet his gaze.

“You have nought to feel ashamed of!” Maedhros replied swiftly, tempering his own anguish. “It is my brother who should carry this and he will pay dearly, Nendalin. I promise you.” he held her hand firmly, his eyes solid with determination.

“What are you going to do?” Nendalin asked him with concern in her grey eyes. They were still red from crying, her fair cheeks bitten by the night wind.

“I do not know yet - I will send for mother to stay by your side…. Curufin must be found and answer for this wrong.” Maedhros stared at the floor, his face stern and set. His jaw was tight.

“Please do not leave me alone here.” Nendalin pleaded, fear suddenly overcoming her again.

He did not. Instead of his mother, Maedhros sent for the guard of the family, those who also worked to protect the city of Tirion. A few of the guard were also healers and elleths themselves, able to tend to Nendalin. Maedhros was an ellon possessed. He gathered his younger brothers and father and together they searched the surrounding wood. Fëanor was filled with fierce anger at his son Curufin, whether or not he held him as favorite. To take a woman’s virtue in such a way was unspeakable. Such dark things did not take place in the land of Valinor.

Many hours passed until Fëanor and his son Celegorm found Curufin far from the family home. Curufin was taken swiftly back with them and whisked away from the reach of his oldest brother Maedhros. Fëanor’s heart had softened at Curufin’s explanation, bending his opinion on the incident. Curufin's tongue was of silver, (as his father's), and adept in the art of persuasion. Fëanor did not risk harm to Curufin by allowing Maedhros to confront him that night.

Outside the house of Fëanor, hushed but angry whispers clashed. Maedhros confronted his father, realizing his brother had been found. He demanded to see him.

“…. this foul misdeed shall go unpunished then?” Maedhros fumed, his eyes narrowing in disbelief at his father. His hands shook with rage at his sides.

“Curufin is young… his mistake was unfortunate and hateful but- I daresay he shall face the judgement of Mandos when the time comes.” Fëanor retorted.

“Mistake?! You defend him, then. Father, this was no mistake.. this deed was that of evil…-“Maedhros’ voice rose steadily, his eyes wild with a rare fury.

“Enough!” Fëanor boomed, his eyes dark and voice carrying through the night air. “Hear me now, Nelyafinwë. I will not put my son before the judgement of the Valar for this! We will speak of this no more. He shall stay far from Nendalin and she remain safe. I shall speak with him further and be this the end of it!” He finished angrily, his own fiery temper taking over.

"You expect that I shall just accept this? That I shall just carry on as if nothing has happened? It is my duty to protect her! And you would have me neglect it so that you might protect him." Maedhros fumed, shaking his head in disbelief. 

"It is your duty to trust your atar." Fëanor spoke with a simmering warning in his grey eyes.

Maedhros was furious. And in disbelief. But he knew not to push his father further- out of both fear and respect. His face was hot, heart pounding in his chest as he watched his father storm inside. The air was still and quiet. Maedhros’ mind was suddenly back to Nendalin, striding quickly back to his own abode nearby where she rested.

While he had been out on the search for Curufin with his father and brothers, the maidens of the guard had helped Nendalin to a hot bath and the comforts of their council and company. She had not been alone to bear this terrible experience. But still, Maedhros held guilt for having left her side at all, as he watched her sleep now by candlelight. The guards he granted leave, as he undressed to his nightclothes and made a bed for himself on a chair nearby. He listened to her steady sleeping breath, settling himself for sleep. There was room beside her in his bed but he didn’t risk startling her or making her feel violated any further. Though he loved her deeply and they were betrothed, he now worried that even his presence beside her in bed would cause her unrest. Maedhros watched her for a moment in the candlelight, deciding to at least speak words of protection over her- that she might know them even in her deep sleep.

“Nin nahtie, melme.” (you are safe, my love) he whispered affectionately into the air to where she lay a few feet away.

“Maedhros?” She whispered suddenly and hoarsely, lifting her head. He rose at once.

“I am here …” he knelt beside the bed, meeting her tired gaze.

Her grey eyes were worry worn and red from crying. Maedhros stroked her cheek softly, her hand holding his close to her cheek.

“Will you lay beside me? I shall feel much safer with you at my side tonight” she insisted, her voice broken and soft. He nodded.

She breathed him in, as he climbed in the large bed beside her. Maedhros smelled of pine and woodsmoke. It was a comfort to her. He pulled the soft and heavy velvet blanket over them, gathering Nendalin close to him.

“What happened, Maedhros? Did you find him?” Nendalin whispered hesitantly.

She knew not if Curufin had fled far or had been brought to justice by his father and brothers.

“We did…. He will be kept far from you, melme. For now, let us rest” Maedhros whispered into her hair.

He hadn’t the heart to tell her that no justice had come to Curufin. That his father had decided against any harsh punishment and that he himself felt helpless and betrayed by his father in the matter. He felt he had failed in protecting her, and knew not how to proceed now. They could not simply avoid his brother, but he could not let this lie.

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       The day was beautiful- flowers fully in bloom, the light of the Two Trees glowing all around. A great many Valar and Eldar attended the wedding of Maedhros and Nendalin- even those who were beginning to hold Fëanor in ill feeling. 

     He had been recently speaking out against the Valar and their intentions… poisoned by the whisperings of Melkor. He had also become dangerously obsessed with his creation of the Silmarils- prioritizing them above many things- and people. Nevertheless, these happenings did not mar the joy of the day. Nendalin was the picture of grace in a long dress of light teal inlaid with gold. Her long hair had been intricately styled with a jeweled headpiece upon her forehead. Maedhros too was the picture of Elven grace- dressed in red velvet formal robes with a copper circlet upon his own brow. His long deep auburn hair he wore loose- in its naturally wavy state.

     There was much feasting, dancing, and merriment that day. And though many times Nendalin found herself scanning the party uneasily for the specter of Curufin, he thankfully did not make himself known that day. Many were not sure he had even attended at all. While the guests celebrated deep into the night, the newly joined couple stole away to their new abode. Maedhros and Nendalin were buzzing, warm with many glasses of wine and high on the day itself. Inside, they relaxed into easy companionship, free of the eyes of others.

“I never dreamed I would see Finarfin dance as such!” Nendalin laughed, wrapping her arms around Maedhros' waist playfully.

He hummed in an agreement with a glowing smile. His blue eyes were bright, creasing at the sides with joy. He kissed her, lingering on her lips a moment. Nendalin melted in his arms at once.

“Let us share one more glass of wine, melme” she insisted, craning her neck to look at his face as he rocked her to and fro.

“I’d rather we keep our senses.” he kissed her again, this time with a slow thoughtfulness.

She took his meaning, nodding intently and returning his kiss. Maedhros lifted her up with hands under her thighs, carrying her to their bed. He did not take his eyes from hers. 

     Maedhros had been imagining this moment for so long, though it pained him that it may now be tinged with unease, after what Nendalin had endured with Curufin. They rarely spoke of it, but she felt it In Maedhros’ hesitation to kiss her too passionately or be too eager for her body. She understood that he was holding back out of his love and respect for her. His duty as her fëa's other half…. Maedhros was one for duty. Truth be told, Nendalin herself did not know whether what had happened to her would affect her intimate life. She had spent weeks working with the Healers in Tirion mending her body and spirit. Still, unease continued to haunt her. When Maedhros would unexpectedly hug her from behind; when he would hold her just a touch too tightly. Her entire body would tense up and no longer be at ease with him. This grieved her so. She wanted to be open and vulnerable with the ellon she loved more than all of Aman. Perceptive as he was, Maedhros recognized these moments often. So, it was no surprise when Nendalin suddenly stopped their kissing, as he held her in his lap.

“Have I done something wrong, meleth?” He breathed, his eyes fluttering open in concern.

For one so strong and full of power he held a softness for only her. She treasured it deeply.

“No…no, Nelyo, I am frightened.”

“Frightened? Of me? … Nendalin, if this is causing discomfort, we need not continue. We can wait, of course.” he assured her, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand.

“It is not you I am frightened of. Please, do not misunderstand my hesitation. I desire this. I love you so… I want nothing more than for you to erase him.” Nendalin spoke honestly, finally meeting his worried eyes.

“I do not want this to be about him.” Maedhros narrowed his eyes, his energy shifting slightly.

“It is not… it is about us reclaiming what should have been ours. It is about reclaiming my fëa from this darkness. I would have no other help me with this. I trust you, Maitimo.” she explained, her grey eyes steady.

Maedhros blue eyes searched the velvet blankets they sat on. He understood that part of a true marriage of the Eldar was not simply the exchange of vows, but the joining of body. He had wondered if that then tied Nendalin’s fëa irreversibly to Curufin. He prayed that not be the case. The silence between them hung thick. But Maedhros finallymet her gaze, pushing aside the deepest fears of his heart. He took her meaning, cupping her face reverently in his large hands.

“I will…. I have you, melme. Nin nahtie.” Maedhros ghosted his lips over hers, kissing her deeply.

And though her heart pounded wildly, she melted into his arms. The strong arms that engulfed her body, wrapping it in everlasting safety and warmth. Her legs wrapped around his waist, she had never felt safer...

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*Some vignettes may be out of chronological order, so prepare for some time-jumping! haha, enjoy :)

Chapter Text

Maedhros stood as a stone statue upon the shore, chaos and carnage unfolding around him in slow motion.The hands which held his sword were covered in blood; he was suddenly spurred back into action by a Telerin arrow flying narrowly past his head.

There is much said about the First Kinslaying in the lore of Valinor, but mere words fail to encapsulate the feeling of being there.

Not of the screams.

Not of the clash of metal upon metal. Of metal upon Elven flesh.

The air was ripe with it all.

How did it come it this?

The Noldor were unleashing such an assault upon the Teleri. Their own Elven kin. The violence had erupted so suddenly. It had escalated so quickly. Maedhros’s ears rung, as all around him became a blur. Every sound, every smell. He continued to thrash his sword through the chaos with a fire in his belly. The oldest son of Feanor suddenly heard the anguished cry of a familiar female voice. It was his wife, Nendalin.

“Maedhros!!” Her scream echoed above the cries all around and he was snapped out of his trance.

Nendalin ran to him from his right. She had blood on her and a wild look of fear in her eyes. He grabbed her immediately in his arms, carrying her further down the shore. Away from the fighting. She was breathless.

“We must leave at once, Maitimo!” Nendalin urged Maedhros, calling him by his mother name.

The mother he had abandoned when he took the accursed Oath of his father. The mother who was left behind in despair in Tirion now.

But it was too late for Maedhros. He had realized too late the darkness of this errand. And now he was bound.

“I swore an oath, Nendalin.” he said plainly, looking down at her and breathing hard. Blue eyes like flame.

“Surely this is not what you had promised- surely if we turn back now the Valar will forgive this mistake! Maitimo, please! This is madness!” She began crying and shaking, looking from him to the carnage down the beach.

Fëanor and his host began boarding the stolen ships of the Teleri.

“We must go.” he responded with an eerie calm, wiping the tear from her cheek, seemingly disconnected from the tearing apart of his own soul.

“Yes…yes, we must!” Nendalin sighed in relief, misunderstanding him.

“I mean onto the ships, meleth!” He added impatiently, panicked now by his father’s calls to him.

She froze.

Go with them?

After this travesty…After this betrayal of kin upon kin?

Maedhros grabbed her hand in his firmly, pulling her to the ships.

“Forgive me.” he spoke to her, meeting her gaze intently for a fleeting second, as he lifted her by the waist into a Telerin swan ship.

All around her was panic, as the stolen ships left the shore. Blood on their hands. She glanced around in a haze. The stars shone brightly overhead, there was smoke everywhere, and screams of anguish. Her heart pounded in her chest wildly. She saw Maglor beside her, face in his bloodied hands. His long dark hair falling all around him to cover his face. Caranthir was calling out fierce orders to those aboard- orders she couldn’t hear. She couldn’t hear anything. Nendalin hardly noticed when Maedhros reappeared at her side, wrapping her in his cloak protectively. He was silent. They watched as the shore of Aqualondë disappeared and grew smaller by the moment, even to their elven eyes.

What had they done?...

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