The forlorn caravan of Fëanorian soldiers lumbered forward, away from the smoldering wreck once called Sirion.

Elros and Elrond rode with Maglor on a broad brown stallion. Their wide alert eyes soaked in the carnage at the edge of the city. As if in mourning, the sea sighed rhythmically behind them. The boys glanced curiously at two mounds lying by the roadside, a bloody standard nailed to the adjacent tree. Maglor halted his stallion for a few minutes; Maedhros slowed his sleek black mare beside his brother's mount. The elven commanders gazed down solemnly at the Ambarussa's graves, then briskly cantered away.

Mile after mile of rocky piles jutted out at either side of the sandy road. No one spoke. Tired and tense after battle, none of the subordinate generals had the mood for a chat to pass the time. The commanders, Maedhros and Maglor, seethed with grief for lost brothers and lost Jewel. The only sounds other than the creaking of wheels and cuffing of horses were the groanings of the wounded. The little twins didn't dare to speak even to each other.
Seagulls occasionally circled round, bored after a night of storm. With them came ravens who pestered the healers, hungry for any elf with more than a foot in the Halls of Mandos.

"Blasted heat," Maedhros hissed, at no one in particular.

"Actually, blame the humidity," Maglor joked without an ounce of humor in his voice.

"You and your logic," his brother huffed. "Which you seem to have abandoned," he glared at the boys bouncing up and down in front of Maglor's saddle.

"Have I? Unlike you and your brutish forces, my elves took the time to scour for information." Maglor cocked his head up and made his stallion pick up his feet proudly.

"What kind of information?" Maedhros ignored his brother's bragging.

"My hunch was right--these two are Erenion's second cousins."

Maedhros's eyes went wide. "Findenkano's** boy? Since when does he accept leverage?"

"Since never. But Elwing's twins--"

"Might change his mind!" Maedhros finished his brother's thought.

"So you agree?" Maglor's blue eyes sparkeled with hope.

"To keeping them!?" Maedhros scoffed. "Of course I don't! I don't need ransom money, Kano. I would pay to see the look on his face when we tell him about the unfortunate accident."

"What accident?" Maglor watched nervously as his brother dismounted.

"Children are prone to get lost in such wide spaces," Maedhros said grimly as he walked over to his brother's horse.

He pulled on his brother's reins and hauled the boys off the stallion. Mortified of him, all Elros and Elrond could do was tremble.

"Please, brother, think! What about Dior's boys!?" Maglor leapt off his mount.

A crowd was starting to pool around them, anxious for the boxing match which was the usual product of arguing sons of Fëanor.

"What of them?" Maedhros snorted haughtily.

"You--you actually mean to see this through!?"

Maedhros brandished his sword and put the broad edge to the twins' backs. "Yes," he hissed. "I don't want living, breathing reminders of a failure."

"How are they going to survive!!?" Maglor's tone rose as he inched toward his brother.

"Manwë's Eagles have mercy, I suppose," Maedhros sneered.

"You searched for them."

Maedhros whirled around, red with embarrassment.

"You searched for them. You looked and looked, trying to right your brother's wrong."

"SILENCE! This is different!" Maedhros snarled, shoving Elrond and Elros forward with his blade.

"How? How is it different? Is it because you can't blame Turkafinwë for losing a pair of half-breeds in the forest this time?

The caravan halted completely. Servants, soldiers, and healers gawked at the argument--they had never heard this one before.

Maedhros glared around the of expectant faces. His mind flashed back almost a hundred years, to a deadly blizzard in a forest much thicker than the one before him.

"Eluréd!? Elurin? Boys!? Where are you?" Maedhros tried in vain to scream over the whistling snowstorm.

He'd begun searching the moment his brother's servants strutted into camp bragging about what they'd done.

It was the fifth day, and the snows had not let up. Still, Maedhros rode on. He wanted the Silamril badly, but not at the cost of toddlers' lives!

He scanned the irritatingly white ground for any sign of Dior's twins. On a nearby shrub fluttered a little peice of cloth. It was stained with blood. Knowing the cloth was of Edain making, Maedhros knew who the clue belonged to. He had to give up. His remaining four brothers would probably come looking for him now.

Tears streamed down his half-frozen face. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and turned his roan stallion around.

In the present, Maedhros set his jaw. "Fine!" he barked. Take your runts. I'll find a way to deal with them later." The redhead pushed them back towards Maglor.

"What are you staring at? MOVE!" Maglor boomed at the slightly disappointed crowd.

The returning caravan resumed its steady, weary march. Slowly but surely, the white cliffs and sparse trees thickened into a formidable forest, lessening the humidity enough that the healers sighed in relief. Ahead of the trudging line, the Sons rode on as mutely as before. The forest around them was dark and beautiful, and the twins riding with Maglor would have loved its green, breathing nooks and crannies had they been allowed to roam. Their eyes lit up as they rode along. Sensing an opportunity to make the boys talk, the Second of the Seven spoke up.

"So you like the forest?" Maglor asked.

"Yeah! How 'bout you, Elrond?" Elros blurted out unabashed.

"Elrond?" Maglor looked down at the younger twin. "So that's your name?"

Elrond nodded his head slowly. He glared at his brother, hoping Elros would take the hint to not share his name.

"My brudder's shy," Elros smirked apologetically. "My name's Elros! I'm older by five minutes."

Elrond gawked at his brother, then smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand.

"You're twins?" Maglor tried to wheedle more of a conversation out of Elwing's sons.

"Yes," they said in unison, as they usually did when asked about their twinhood.

"Twins?" Maedhros huffed. "Maglor, you must have a death wish," he snarled. This is going to be a loooooong return trip, groaned the redhead mentally.

This one is kind of a filler-please don't hate me! I want to make this a part two, but I will leave that up to the people to decide. Fear not, fellow Mae-stans....he will get nicer as the tale goes on. Thanks to @Glorfyo for suggesting the flashback! (** I know Tolkien edited this, but i decided to keep the mistake, as it sheds light on Maedhros's previous acquaintance with Fingon.)