17 | A Trip Down Memory Lane

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Warning: will contain violence, hints of torture and mention of death.

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Location: Mouths of Sirion, South Beleriand, Middle Earth [1]

Time: 538 F.A

Fire.

That is all that Elemmírë of Gondolin could see.

Everything was burning, people were burning. Red, black, and gold with the sprinkle of grey as the ash fell and made the waters that were once blue into a murky black. Red was for the blazing flames that danced around them, that touched the skins of those screaming for their lives. Red was the colour of their clothes, for it shone an eight-pointed star as they drew their silver swords into her people's hearts. Red was the blood that spilt over the ground, staining her hands and clothes – a deep red that could almost match the colour black had the moonlight did not shine above the sky.

Elemmírë rushed down the streets, her duel blades slicing and piercing any that were against her. She tried her best to conserve her power, her light, as she dodged fallen rubble before heading towards the inner city. She knew where they were; knew what they sought here. She bared her teeth and continued, her heart racing as she heard pleas for help. Elemmírë wanted to help them, to stop those that caused them harm.

But the sole reason had been just that. And that was what her friend bared in her possession.

As she arrived towards the larger house situation upon the upper levels of the city, she barged through the doors of once her friend's home and saw them. The elven princess clutching her two children in her arms. As they realised who had entered, they sighed in relief as the mother approached her and stared at her eyes.

The eyes of pardon.

"What are you doing?" Elemmírë questioned, striding towards her as the elven princess rummaged through the wardrobe before pulling out an ornate box. As she opened the box, she gasped under her breath.

The Silmaril.

Elwing looked up at her, tears sprung in her eyes as she pleaded, "Protect my children, Elemmírë." She whispered. "Please, for me."

Elemmírë shook her head and back away. "Then give me the jewel." She insisted with a murmur, "I have nothing to lose here, Elwing. Not after I just lost my brother."

There was a moment that they both shared a willing sense of understanding. Both knew their past despite never choosing to speak openly of them. But words and stories can travel in the wind so easily, and Elemmírë and Elwing knew they have lost both their home and families because of the world beyond their control.

And now, it would seem her friend thought she had the chance to play a step in this complicated game.

Elwing gave her a sad smile, squeezing her eyes from tears as she glanced over at her children. "I'm sorry, friend." She spoke, "But I must do this, it is my duty."

In a swift moment, Elwing pulled her cloak over her head and took the jewel in her hand. She gave one last look at her children, whispering something in the air before escaping out the door.

"No!"

Elemmírë tried to catch her, but the elven princess was already out amongst the flames. She already knew her friend would never step foot in this place ever again.

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Elemmírë glared at the two figures in front of her as she declared, "If you take the children, you'll have to take me."

She shielded the two twin elflings behind her body, her swords laid waste far from her reach. She could blind them, or create headaches, but Elemmírë knew it would potentially harm the children if she was not careful.

Instead, she gave into the ones before her. The red-haired one, tall and broad, scowled at her before yanking her from the children whilst the shorter, dark-haired one took each of the children's hands and bind them together. She could still hear the roaring of the waterfall behind them as the two carried them away, perhaps out of the burning city and towards their host.

They took them in a cart, quietly murmuring to themselves as she kept the twins close to her. Elemmírë would not risk those two alone with Elwing's children.

A voice asked her quietly, "Elemmírë? Where are we going?"

To her acknowledgement, she turned to find the Peredhel twins stare at her with wide shallowed eyes. She blamed her heart for breaking then, to see such minds that have already been filled with horror and loss. Elemmírë could lie and give them hope, but she was not like that. She may be young for an elf, but she had lived her entire adulthood through war and wandering. And honesty was the only way to seek them a careful transition to the realities of war.

Elemmírë answered him, "We have no choice but to go with the Fëanorians, Elrond." She saw him begin to tear up. He was thinking of Elwing, wondering where she was. As for Elros, the stronger one in mind only thought of his brother and the elves that sat in front of them.

Elros curled up next to her side. It was uncomfortable, especially with the binds in her wrists, but she managed to allow the two to lean against her side. "I miss Naneth, Elemmírë," Elros spoke.

Not long before the whimpering and cries echoed through the trees. Elemmírë did her best to sing a song to them, but it had yet only reminded them of the songs which their mother sang at night.

The red-haired elf flicked his head to her from the horse and commanded, "Can you quieten the children?"

Elemmírë looked blankly back at him and answered coolly, "You try it yourself, Fëanorian."

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Location: Taur-im-Duinath, East Beleriand, Middle Earth [2]

Time: 538 F.A

They have been with them for almost two weeks. Travelling East towards Taur-im-Duinath. Those that she knew who survived the sacking of the Havens, she wasn't sure where they fled – indicating them to hide further down the river from the kinslayers. Elemmírë only hoped that Círdan had heard the word of what occurred and would aid her people.

Elemmírë wanted to help her people, so she did all she could to escape the Fëanorians.

Her first attempt was almost successful, had not the red-haired Fëanorian threatened to kill little Elros with a dagger upon his small throat. She almost shared her secret in anger, sensing the energy coarse through her body until she dropped the stolen dagger and silently allowed them to tie her again.

The second attempt was a week later, and she had thought to blind the younger Fëanorian brother, Maglor. Though as she was about to do so, Elrond had found her sneaking out. The little elfling somehow knew what she was about to do and pleaded to her not to kill or expose herself. She had wavered then, feeling reason with the Peredhel twin that she felt guilt growing up her heart.

These boys have lost their innocence, and she was not doing any less to keep their childhood intact.

And so, she agreed with Elrond and felt herself become sombre and isolating. She did what she had promised to Elwing, keeping an eye on the twins, and making sure they were fed enough and sleeping soundly as possible. Elrond had begun to manifest his own sight, always waking up and murmuring about dragons and fires whilst Elros was getting bolder by the moment, questioning the younger Fëanorian that caused the red-haired one angry and the other sadder.

Today, Elemmírë knew from her eavesdropping in the Fëanorians' minds that food was becoming scarce. Many animals have fled South or East and the forest was not enough to supply the leftovers of the followers of the Fëanorians.

Rationing was worrying her, and all she could do was make sure each of the twins was fed decently – even if her hands were tied. She urged her share to the twins, who shook their heads and told her to eat. Elemmírë smiled softly to them and told them telepathically that she was alright and they shall have what she had left.

When the twins hungrily finished hers, she hid the rumbling of her stomach – finding a shadow over loom her. Dropping down into her hand was a bowl of broth. When she stared upwards, she found the red-haired Fëanorian scowl at her.

He ordered, "Eat."

"No," Elemmírë answered.

She could sense his irritation, swearing to the Valar internally before repeating. "You need to eat; you are thinner than the other elleths."

"I will rather starve," She spoke with a monotonous voice. The two shared a look, with herself trying not to hear his growing anger whilst her own heart began to go cold.

The red-haired Fëanorian asked plainly, "And what of the children. What will they say when their guardian will fade."

Elemmírë replied simply, "I am not their guardian." She was not wrong, she had lost that title after leaving her people behind in Sirion. She was not a guardian anymore.

The red-haired Fëanorian grunted before saying back, "No, but they are what is left of their kin."

"Who was the cause that?" She questioned, and immediately regretted speaking aloud her thought as the red-haired Fëanorian scowled and strode away.

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Time: 539 T.A

A pack of orcs were waiting for them near the boundaries of the forest. Jumping out from the bushes and trees as one hurled themselves at one of their followers and tackled them to the ground. Maedhros was the first one to react, as quick as an eagle swooping to its prey as the orc fell.

That then caused more orcs to scream in, and she quickly took the boys over to Maglor as she unsheathed her duel blades.

"Go!" Elemmírë cried out, sheathing her blades into her hilts and began placing her feet into a position.

Maedhros, son of Fëanor, sliced another Orc down as he staggered back as almost all of them were surrounded. "You are mad!" He yelled out to her.

Perhaps the red-haired Fëanorian was right. Maybe she was mad.

But she would not let them die today.

Elemmírë shouted, "No, but they will die if you do not leave with them!" Hinting about the twins and the injured, Maedhros bared his jaw and began retreating with the rest. Maglor had taken Elros and Elrond as far as possible, as she sensed their presence still in her mind.

And with a short breath, Elemmírë held her hands out and brought a concentrated light upon them, growing larger before she sent it towards the orcs. As the light met them, dozens of bodies flew into the air, the ground beneath them shattering with bits of earth. She stomped her foot into the ground, digging her heel before slicing her arms outwards as a large wave of light expelled from her body and sent more falling before.

Those who were hidden from their ranks in front charged at her and she took a sword out and parried the orc's blow before blasting them back at another.

There and then, Elemmírë slew the remaining. And the area around them would bring interest as wave after wave of energy followed through.

The Sons of Fëanor and the Peredhel twins would seek her out, panting and exhausted and not an ounce of a bruise or cut from her skin. There Elemmírë stood in a ring of dead orcs laid on her waste.

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When the evening arrived, she exited her tent to find all the Followers of the Fëanorians staring at her along with both the Sons of Fëanor. She had finally got Elrond and Elros asleep, aided by Maglor who sung so hauntingly beautiful that even she would fall asleep beside them as well.

Elemmírë lowered her head down, quietly meandering across the camp until she sat as far as possible from the fire, keeping herself hidden by braiding her blonde hair back. Once she was done, she found herself facing the younger son of Fëanor who wore his question on his face.

Finishing tying the ends of her hair, Elemmírë took a deep breath. "You must have questions." When her eyes fluttered back to him, she found as well Maedhros who stood beside his brother, his taller stature blocking the light of the fire.

Maglor began, "You wield...light."

Almost a year of hiding within the forest, moving every several days with the Fëanorians and yet it had been now that she was able to have a proper conversation with the two without her lashing at them, Maedhros lashing at her and Maglor almost bursting into tears at them shouting.

She could ignore them and tell them that is was not their right to know of her magical abilities, despite not knowing their origins themselves. She once remembered the elder Noldorin elves hypnotised that light she wielded was possibly equivalent to the light of stars, though they underestimated the young Lady of her brother's house and would not know her extent until it was too late for them.

However, there was a part in her heart that urged her lips to agree. Both the sons of Fëanor have approached her warily and yet with an of something else.

Respect...or was it fear?

Elemmírë was not sure, but in the end, she had begun the story of her magic. "The story of my power is not as complicated as you think, because even I do not know how or why I received them."

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Elros and Elrond were down by the waters, splashing about and fighting one another as Maedhros and Maglor kept them from possibly going to the deep part of the River Gelion.

She sat on the rocks, keeping an eye on the twins. But it would seem they already had two other elves to sort them out. In her mind, she was feeling warmth in her heart as she suddenly found herself enjoying the comfort each person had. Over a year, the twins and she had begun to lose the discomfort and distrust for the Fëanorians. And it was obvious to the younger son of Fëanor, who looked at the twins like they were his own.

Maglor took a seat beside her several minutes later, soaked up to his calves but never losing the remnants of a smile.

It was then Elemmírë spoke, still eyeing the trio in the riverside. "You are good with them."

The Fëanorian froze and his voice lowered, "I am guilty. I..."

"Well, one thing to consider: you are a good father," Elemmírë revealed, true and confident with her words. She turned her head to her right and smiled sadly. "I cannot be their parent, no matter what Elros says." She remembered the day she heard the Peredhel twin tell her that, and Elemmírë almost froze and fell off her horse. There was no parental love between her and the twins, almost as if she were like more of an older sister to them.

Maglor was alarmed as he asked, "Why do you suddenly not hate us?"

Her eyes stared into his as Elemmírë answered honestly: "Because I see now in your mind that you are hurting." She continued wryly, "And I tend to protect everyone and anyone. No matter how bloody broken or perfect or crazy they are."

"You are unlike any lady I have met," Maglor spoke whilst the corner of lips twitched.

Elemmírë turned away, focusing back on the two boys already pulling Maedhros into the water. How a murderer like them could act so freely when they were technically hostages. But if she would call them murderers, Elemmírë would technically be one after slaying their followers.

She began to realise this ever since her third time in escaping the Fëanorians.

In the end, what did it truly mean when in fact it was all violence in the end? Even their daggers and swords were beautiful until they're drenched in blood at the hands of their enemies. Their world sought peace, and peace seemed to be driven by fighting. What did it say for them all when the reality was just a big ironic idea?

She straightened herself up and began, "They say I am mad, but that is because elves are so insisted to achieve perfection, forgetting how much the world is unlike that." Elemmírë professed. "I believe that people can change, no matter Edain or Eldar or Dwarf. And you and your brother; I have seen evidence that even the ones in the darkest pits can survive their demons."

She knew those demons as she already her own; memories of the fall of her city, the wanderings to Sirion and the sacking. Her hatred of Maeglin to Morgoth and the Balrog who took her brother's life.

But her's cannot match the path that Maglor and Maedhros walked upon. A dark and winding path that would never end until their desire for the jewels was complete. However, Elemmírë believed in the changes of their paths, and the first step had been all this time – sparing the sons of Eärendil.

Maglor's face changed into a haunting look. "I cannot destroy them. They will always be with me."

There was a moment that she paused. She knew those demons as she already her own; memories of the fall of her city, the wanderings to Sirion and the sacking. Her hatred of Maeglin and Morgoth and the Balrog who took her brother's life.

But her's cannot match the path that Maglor and Maedhros walked upon. A dark and winding path that would never end until their desire for the jewels was complete. However, Elemmírë believed in the changes of their paths, and the first step had been all this time – sparing the sons of Eärendil.

It was there Elemmírë spoke her heart.

Her hand went over to his in his knees, and he gazed down before at her face.

"We never lose our demons, Maglor." Elemmírë told him, "We only learn to live above them."

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Location: Ossiriand, East Beleriand, Middle Earth [3]

Time: 557 T.A

Two figures circled one another.

The first one was an elven lady, or perhaps an elven woman for she had lost that title for many years. In her hand, she carried a silver curved blade – gripped into a position for preparedness as she positioned her feet into a defensive stance.

The other was an elven lord, neither a lord nor anything gentle as a determined look was plastered on his face. He held a similar blade, though longer and less slim. He too was pictured in a stance, though his feet seemed to jump to and throw, eager to leap into the action.

When they both counted to three, the ellon charged towards the elleth. The elleth easily blocked it, swiping her sword back to her body before deflecting another swipe. They moved around the open space of the forest, with the elleth keeping the ellon on his toes.

There was a significant difference between the two. Whilst the ellon attacked at every moment, with growls and grand strikes, the elleth was calm and calculating every movement – almost gracefully dancing around her opponent.

Once she spotted the opening, she ducked underneath and tugged the ellon's arm under before swiping their feet.

The next thing the ellon knew, the tip of the sword was against his neck. Both were out of breath as they looked at each other.

"I yield!" Elros wheezed, groaning as he was pulled up by her arm. "...Mire, how can you be so swift?"

Elemmírë let go of his hand and winked, "Many years of practice, Elros." She turned her head around, asking the figure behind her. "Care to join, Elrond."

The one and only spectator in the forest glade, who had been waiting patiently, stood up to pick up his own sword from his hilt. Elemmírë smiled encouragingly to the other Peredhel twin; she knew that he preferred the library and his learning in comparison to his brother's practical activities – which she could understand. Not everything was about sparring and fighting and wouldn't be something she would choose as a pastime.

Not when they were in a time of war. Where fighting was surviving. Elemmírë hated having to expose the twins to violence and self-defence, but she and the Fëanorians knew it was better to show them as early as possible.

And now they were twenty-five years old and probably growing to become skilled swordsmen under the tutoring of Maedhros, Maglor and her. Though she knew eventually in another decade or more, even the twins would surpass her own skill.

As Elros walked over to his brother, whispering something in his ear, Elrond gave his brother a look before taking a small breath and returned his eyes to her. "If you wish of me, Elemmírë."

With a nod, the two began their own dance.

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She spoke, "You know at first, I was afraid of you." The corner of Elemmírë's lips lifted. "And look at what has become of us."

They were standing on the platform atop the trees, the moon out so brightly under the canopy that it illuminated their faces. Down below, they watched the Laiquendi elves [4] along with the rest of the Fëanorians. It had been almost two decades since they have been here, seeking refuge with the Green elves in East Beleriand and things were just beginning to stabilise with the Fëanorians and her.

Though whilst she believed it to have been going for the better, the elf beside her believed the latter.

"You are still afraid of me, Elemmírë." He pointed out, his face returning to his usual expressionless tone.

She wanted to sigh in frustration. Well, yes: perhaps she was still a little fearful for the eldest son of Fëanor, but it was not because of the reasons he believed in.

"No, Maedhros. I'm afraid for you." Elemmírë corrected, "With Maglor, I believe that the twins can save him..."

Her voice trailed off, trying to figure out the right words before she continued.

Elemmírë spoke, "But you, you're afraid to be saved. You're afraid of what lies beyond the demons you possess."

It was there she remembered the very conversation she had with Maglor, who had shared his own burdens and fears with her with minimal effort. Maglor showed his own burdens truthfully, with sorrow that began to heal with the care and love the twins had for him.

But for Maedhros, his own troubles and fears ran deeper than his younger brother's. Even after two decades, her own stubbornness to make him open up whilst his own arrogance to push her away only got her to the surface of who he was.

Elemmírë was not sure why she had been trying at all until she realised eventually how much they were beginning to be a part of her.

He clenched his fists, his face anguish as he murmured, "You don't know what I've done. How much blood I spilt." Maedhros told her, "This Oath will drive me to my death. Look at what happened to my brothers. Maglor is all I have left." [5]

Looking right up to him despite Maedhros looking away, she whispered, "Not anymore. You have Elrond, Elros and me."

He shook his head. "You shouldn't. You were supposed to be hostages."

Elemmírë could instantly feel his mind going inwards once more, trying to fall into that pit of despair he usually went to when he was thinking too much. Over time, she had realised he had begun doing it less, keeping himself occupied with either the twins or stopping her from being reckless.

So, she did as she always did and took raised her hand to his shoulder. He turned to her and stared down. Elemmírë cut him off, "Hey, that Oath does not define who you are. You still fight it to this day and that is more than what anyone else could do." She added, "And you feel guilt, correct?"

Maedhros didn't respond, though his eyes already answered it.

Keeping herself composed, Elemmírë gave an encouraging smile as she spoke confidently, "You are not heartless, Maitimo. I think you underestimate how much good there is still in you." [6]

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Time: 559 F.A

The Laiquendi elves informed her that a party was spotted just on the outskirts of the forest and that concerned her. Elrond was busy in the library whilst she had asked Elros to head there to inform him to follow behind towards the outskirts of the forest. As Elemmírë rode with her horse, she found the Sons of Fëanor's backs towards her. They seemed to be conversing with someone in front of them.

As she dropped down onto the ground, she strode towards them and found Maglor glancing over his shoulder. His face looked troubled, along with a questionable gaze at her as he mentally asked her where the twins were. After answering his question, she creased her eyebrows.

She asked him and Maedhros, "What is it? What's wrong?" Though once she arrived, she noticed the elven lord in front of her. Elemmírë voiced out, "Oh. Hello."

The elf in question was slightly taller than her though not as tall as Maglor and Maedhros, with dark hair with a golden circlet atop his head. He wore dark blue clothes, sewn in the front was a diamond with four silver stars.

When he noticed her presence, his eyes widened before he nodded his head and introduced himself: "Lady Elemmírë. I am Gil-Galad. Son of Orodreth." [7]

So: this was Orodreth's son, Grandson to Angrod [8] and therefore kin to her previous king Turgon. Well, he had the appearance from the line of Finwë and the aura he drove was much like any royal person who would be.

Though why was he here?

Turning her eyes to both, Elemmírë asked them. "Maedhros, Maglor?"

Maglor didn't hide his sadness, answering her first, "He wishes for you to go with them. Back to Sirion."

Confusion brought her heart to plummet. Over two decades and it was only now that the Noldorin have finally discovered them. She wondered what drove them east, for she knew the Valar and the Vanyar [9] have arrived in the Western shores of Beleriand to tackle Morgoth's armies. But then she remembered who she was before, before being taken by the Fëanorians along with the twins.

Gil-Galad was here, assuming they've been hostages for twenty years when in fact it had been the opposite.

Approaching the two, she looked at each of them and spoke, "But I am happy here, with you. And the boys are happy."

Maedhros stared down at her, his face stoic but his mind filled with anger and melancholy. "You know you cannot stay, Elemmírë. We...we brought you here, but not freely."

She pointed out, "I almost killed you three times."

Maedhros out of surprise twitched his lips. "Both unsuccessful. Elemmírë." He smiled sadly, "But their path lies with their kin. And yours with the rest of the Noldor."

Inside her head, she was screaming. Did they not care for what they thought? What the twins would think? The twins, who have been a part of their weird and dysfunctional family was what brought them all together. Their paths have been put together the moment those jewels existed and Elemmírë had grown to believe that this part of her life – her part of healing herself from the ruin of her people – was to aid the Fëanorians away from their troubles.

She kept her voice composed no matter how much she was shaking. "And what of the Oath? Will it continue to drive you?" Elemmírë pleaded, "I can't let you both drive yourself to madness!"

Maglor answered her with a strained voice. "It is not your path to take. It was ours." He gulped, "And a grave mistake we took."

It took Elemmírë to stare at the two, wondering why they agreed to this. But then she saw their minds, how much they were filled with something she had not seen in them the night near the waterfall. There was good and light in them, and the pull of the Oath had lessened in their hearts.

With a shuddered breath, she took each of their hands into hers.

She smiled through her tears, "I would not have met you both if you hadn't." Elemmírë asked them attentively, "Remember them, will you? They've changed you both more than you can imagine."

Maedhros nodded at her, "We will, Elemmírë."

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Location: Sirion, South Beleriand, Middle Earth

More of the boats docked by the shore that morning.

Gil-Galad had informed them that the last host of the elves from Valinor were arriving, and amongst them would be the very elf that had left her with the twins. However, due to the promise he had: Eärendil was not to step onto the very earth of Middle Earth. Instead, she and the twins were waiting at the docks before they would board the boat the twins' very father would be on.

The moment the main boat which the host of the Valar arrived in, Elemmírë immediately knew as she felt the strength of the jewel and its energy along with the other powerful being next to him.

Eönwë, the banner-bearer and herald of Manwë, had his eyes trained on her as they boarded the boat. She couldn't help but gaze back before she immediately felt a large force push open her mind. The Ainu was trying to enter her head for some reason, and she creased her eyebrows in question.

Well, he could do so as he pleases; there wasn't anything she wanted to hide from him other than the anger she had for Eärendil and Elwing.

Elros shared the same anger as well.

Too much that the moment Eärendil asked what happened to them – the Peredhel twin's fist met Eärendil nose.

Even she jumped in shock at the sudden action, seeing the Silmaril perched on the crown clatter onto the wooden flooring.

However, Elros voice trembled in hatred: "You left us! You left me, my brother and Elemmírë to die! You and Naneth! All for this gem." He picked up the crown and scoffed before tossing it to Eärendil.

And to Elemmírë's surprise once more, Eärendil had scrambled up to grab it before it could hit the floor. A sick feeling went up to her stomach as a surge of heat went up to her chest.

Elros continued bitterly, "It was not because of Elemmírë that we survived. And Maglor and Maedhros, they raised us better than what you perceived it to be."

Everyone was watching now, and she could easily hear every thought everyone was thinking. It was there she intervened, walking over to Elros, and tugging him by the sleeve.

"That is enough Elros." She murmured to him.

Elros inhaled sharply and spoke lowly, "You are the one that bore us to this world, but you cannot be the father I have chosen."

Walking off the boat, she mentally told Elrond to take his brother back to their tent. As the twins left, she realised she was left with the young Noldorin King, Eärendil and a maia. Eärendil nose was slightly crooked – only a bit – with blood oozing out as he tried to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Once he had sorted himself out, he had looked at her as if he were seeing two of her. Eärendil asked, "What happened truly, Elemmírë. What has come to your three?"

Elemmírë didn't change her face, keeping it stoic as she answered, "A lot has happened, Eärendil. Even I have changed. Good or bad, you can give your opinion on that." Her voice slipped into a coldness that even she felt herself. "But you must understand that our lives were not all good, but neither bad. It is only the jewel in your crown that bears the mark of the reason why you abandoned them."

With that, Elemmírë kindly excused herself and find the twins. She hoped then that the two have calmed down and hoped there would be no elves getting punched in the nose by their sons once more.

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Time: 564 F.A

Elemmírë strode through the paths of the campsite until she saw him on her path. A feeling of betrayal lingering in his voice as he looked at her.

"You're not leaving, are you Elemmírë?" Elrond questioned her.

Speaking the truth, Elemmírë gave him a sad expression. "I am not wanted here, Elrond."

That was an understatement. She was getting blamed by most of the elves in the camp for possibly taking the twins on purpose and have slowly driven them into madness by her own grief. What utter nonsense! Elemmírë was grieving to this day but she would never give her grief to them.

Though as much as the elves hated her, they found her to be useful. Or more specifically: her powers and her following. Many of the Edain and the race of men followed not only Elros but also her. She had taught the women how to defend themselves, to pick up their swords and fight. She had aided to heal with Elrond the injured, providing stories to the children as well as the grown men and elves during the evenings.

And three of them told their songs of their time with the Green elves, singing about the trees and the peace of the land. She sang about Gondolin, the beautiful white city that she grew up in.

That was not enough for her to feel how she was not amongst her people. Not now and not when the war was at its peak.

Elrond insisted, "Then I will come back, with you." He continued, "Elros won't mind if I leave. He enjoys the company of the Edain. Like you do."

A small smile formed on her lips, "He has always had the heart of a mortal." She raised an eyebrow and asked, "Are you sure? You have been marvellous as an advisor to Gil-Galad."

He showed his own smile in return. "And so are you."

Elemmírë's smile saddened as she thought to him, 'Eönwë does not speak highly of me. Thinks I have corrupted the sons of Eärendil.'

His brows creased in bewilderment, confused. 'You haven't corrupted us, Elemmírë. In fact, you've always aided us, even in the littlest ways.'

'You should be with your father.' She thought to him.

It was there he froze before sighing, 'He isn't our father. I...I believe that yes, I can understand where he was coming from and Elros shouldn't have shown his dislike publicly. But I have already been ripped away from one family.' Elrond admitted, 'You and Atar and Maedhros are the only ones that have shown the love a family should have.' [10]

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Location: Ossiriand, East Beleriand, Middle Earth

Time: 565 F.A

The two of them arrived at the campsite, spotting the familiar red hair and the clothing. Elemmírë mentally informed him what she was preparing to do and crept around the camp. Once she was close, she was surprised that the two elves were occupied at the flames of the campfire, their backs in front of her until she coughed.

She slyly spoke, "I heard that a Fëanorian was in these woods."

Both of them turned around as fast as the rapid rivers, bolting up to their feet as their eyes widened at the sight of her and the elf next to her.

Maedhros was the first to speak. "Elemmírë? Elrond?"

"Hello, Maitimo." Elemmírë grinned as she looked at him before nodding at the other son of Fëanor. "Maglor."

Standing beside her, Elrond walked over to Maglor and embraced him. "We've come home, Atto."

A month later since their return, Elemmírë and Elrond evolved back to their normal routine with Maedhros and Maglor. Though as the war continued, peace seemed to have been a little treasure in moments as they moved constantly to prevent the enemy from finding them. They have begun travelling up the river, banding with several Laiquendi elves in protecting the east from orcs.

However, that night, it would something different. Elrond had woken up panting and screaming, beads of sweat upon his forehead as she and Maedhros rushed to his side where Maglor was already next to him.

All he could say through his breath was this. "The dead are coming."

She and Maedhros gave each other a look before they saw Maglor's frown.

"Are you sure, Elrond?" Maglor asked.

Elrond looked at them before returning his eyes to Maglor. "I am right, Atto. We must be prepared."

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Time: 568 F.A

After trying to tackle the dead (by which they were controlled by one of Morgoth's more known commanders: Sauron), most of their party was intact. The warning from Elrond truly helped them to prepare for the ambush, though it did not stop them from being terrified at seeing the dead animated before them.

Seeing other magic and power used by others was an often occurrence for her, but Elemmírë had not seen the dead rise back.

Soon as the wave of the dead was gone, word had come to them that many of the front lines in West Beleriand were struggling. Along with them included Elros. Elemmírë was eager to go, to make sure the other twin would be alright. But in her heart and instinct, it was not her right to go but Elrond.

When Elrond heard of his brother in Falas, Maglor and Maedhros didn't hesitate but allow him to go. However, he had stopped to ask her if she was coming along.

Instead, she smiled at the Peredhel. "Elros needs help." She encouraged, "Go to him, Elrond."

Elrond looked down at her, already having exceeded her height many years ago. He spoke, "I wish you well, Elemmírë."

"And I to you. Stay alive, will you?" She fought back the tears that sprung in her eyes.

He too soon to show his own and hoarsely replied, "I will."

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Location: Amon Ereb, East Beleriand, Middle Earth [11]

Time: 573 F.A

Treading over to Maedhros and Maglor's tent, she entered inside and found them standing over the small table – a map of Beleriand drawn out in front of them.

Maedhros glanced over his shoulder and relaxed the moment he spotted her usual red and blue attire and took a step towards her.

Elemmírë eyed the two brothers and questioned, "You would deal with dwarves?" She then saw the two give her a look and she paused, "After what happened in...right, must not mention it."

She zipped her mouth and pursed her lips. It wasn't her right to speak about past tidings, especially when dwarves are involved. Elemmírë had only heard of the battle in Doriath faintly by other elves in Sirion, and it had grown her own discomfort at how many can turn against by the jewel. Her own hatred for that jewel overshadowed the hatred the elves around her for dwarves, and she was glad at least the war had given them some source of truce with the Noldor...unlike the Sindar who she assumed would rather fight along with orcs than with them.

When the delegate of dwarves from Nogrod and Belegost arrived [12][13], Elemmírë kept an eye on them whilst keeping herself beside the two brothers. As much as she didn't hate them, trust was little in war and she made sure to inform the brothers of what the dwarves spoke of in their minds.

What the dwarves did not know they wouldn't mind.

Maedhros place a marker onto the map and spoke, "We must be able to sweep Morgoth's legions up North." He glanced up to them and asked, "You would be able to help us?"

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Location: Thargelion, East Beleriand, Middle Earth [14]

Time: 577 F.A

They were outnumbered.

Orcs and Easterlings were filling in as they were surrounded, not only by them but by the landscape themselves. Lake Helevorn [15] was the very point they needed to retake and just as she was about to cut the last Easterling down, a dagger was thrust upon her leg as she toppled onto the piles of bodies.

Hands and arms picked her up and she fought at them as she was tossed up until she felt clawed by two large feet. Her heart lurched as the ground grew further from her.

Elemmírë screamed as she struggled, finding the red-haired figure grow smaller.

She cried to him, "Mae!"

He looked up and his eyes widened. As he began to run, he reached out and shouted, "No! Use your light!"

Elemmírë did not stop until tiredness brought her to unconsciousness.

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Location: Angband, Erin Engrin, Middle Earth [16]

Time: 578 F.A

It was the first time Elemmírë would see a Vala up close.

However, it was not the Vala she intended to meet.

Morgoth over loomed her body, seated on his gigantic throne as his eyes bore into hers and went through every part of her mind. He tore through every memory, every moment and dream she had. In the beginning, Elemmírë fought every second of it, keeping him from her own mind no matter how much his servants lashed at her and bled her until she was in her own pool of blood.

However, as the months passed the power of her light was soon lessening – giving Morgoth the chance to see through her mind. Every secret and confession she had was now his and Sauron's. Every moment she had with the twins and the Sons of Fëanor, her brother and Gondolin.

But Elemmírë did not tell them where they were. That was the only thing she could muster up the energy to hide away.

However, it was not those secrets he wanted from her. He wanted the truth.

The truth even she didn't know as well.

Morgoth rasped to her, "I offer you something. If you side with me, elf. You will be the most beautiful and powerful being of all Arda." He added, "A queen."

Shaking, she rose her head up high and hissed, "I will rather die than choose to side with you!"

"Then you will rot here and watch me kill every one of your kin," Morgoth told her and instructed Sauron to drag her back to the darkness she was kept in.

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Time: 585 F.A

Time was meaningless in Angband.

She wasn't sure how long it had been she had been captured for she couldn't even see the sun or moon whether it was day or night. The room – or rather cell – Morgoth's servants had put her in was not amongst the other prisoners, whom she could sense at the beginning of her time to be begging and pleading somewhere below the ground.

Elemmírë at first was hostile and rabid, doing anything at all means to escape.

However, a year after the other, she began to lose the hope that no one would come for her. She began to beg for her to at least be with her kin, those who were trapped in the hell underneath, but all Sauron did was laugh at her before ordering her body to be taken back to her 'chambers'.

The fourth year of constant isolation and interrogation was when the experimenting began. She heard from the dark Ainu that Sauron would take her under his wing, she pleaded desperately to ask for the end of her life but the maia only shunned her. He tried multiple ways to analyse her powers, creating false memories in her mind to change her emotions, to see if one thing would catalyse her energy.

There were many cases that Sauron succeeded in forcing her powers to be let out, but it was not enough for the mad lord. He needed to know how and why. Where this light originated.

Two more years and a slither of hope grew in Elemmírë the moment she saw worry upon both Morgoth and Sauron's faces.

The free peoples of Middle Earth were closing in, and it will come to a time when they would have to surrender. At that point, she didn't care anymore if she was dead or alive; it only mattered if the two beings would finally be defeated once and for all.

She had been by the window in her cell, keeping her hands bathed into the little light in Angband. As she heard the cell doors unlock, Elemmire prepared herself spiritually before turning around.

However, as she expected either an orc or Sauron at the door – it was someone she had expected.

Elemmire stood up, her legs shaking beneath her as she reached her hand out.

She couldn't believe her eyes.

"Elrond?" She wavered, wondering if she was hallucinating this all.

His grey eyes were struck with horror, walking closer until Elemmírë was met by his warmth. Tears began to fall down her cheeks as she sobbed uncontrollably on his chest.

'This cannot be real...' She repeated in her head as she gazed up and found the Peredhel staring down at her. Her mind began to check through his, and a gasp escaped her mouth at the realisation.

This was him.

Elrond cupped her cheek and whispered, "Elemmírë...It's me...I'm here."

She then suddenly panicked and began to shake. Elemmírë begged, "El...Elrond! You shouldn't be here..."

"Well, I am here." He said confidently, before eyeing her with the face she had not wanted. Pity. He hid it well enough, but even the darkness didn't hide how horrified at seeing her appearance.

Elemmírë pushed away as she croakily spoke, "It is no use; the dragon will come. Morgoth wants my power." She implored, "Please...escape before he kills you!"

And to her surprise, Elrond stood his ground and replied, "I won't leave you, Elemmírë. Never again."

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Location: Thargelion, East Beleriand, Middle Earth

Time: 586 F.A

When word spread at the success of the Sons of Fëanor and Sons of Eärendil's rescue of Elemmírë – soon came about of her own actions.

How she blinded Morgoth during their escape.

In honesty, she had only done it in instinct as much of her magic had waned and lost control, causing her to lash out at one final move until they escaped through the armies of Angband and back south to Thargelion.

They began calling her with a name.

Oialëa. The Eternal.

Why so, she wondered. She was no more immortal than the elves were, who looked at her like she had been brought back the dead and seemed like she could snap her bones the moment she sat down. It was her frailty and the condition of her appearance which caused the council of elves to doubt her position. Not only as a lady but as a living person.

At that moment, anger brought her to her feet and silenced the room.

Elemmírë cried, "I am alive! And if you think because I have been shackled and defiled by the darkness that I cannot be standing, you have no right then to say that you fight for the goodness of this world!"

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Location: Angband, Middle Earth

Time: 587 F.A

She stared upwards, her hands clinging onto the back of the eagle as she and Eärendil flew across the wasteland and fighting.

The dragon was close, blowing a blaze of fire across the land until Elemmírë felt her own energy burst out from her body.

Fire and light met and clashed into an array of colours. A barrier, stopping the dragon from burning the host of the Valar down on the ground whilst allowing Eärendil to fly closer towards Ancalagon. [17]

But the longer she held it, she could feel her chest bursting out, feeling the pain grow stronger until her eyes grew wide at the flames.

All she remembered was screaming, watching her hands go black before she fell back onto the back of the eagle in shock and anguish.

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Location: Ossiriand, Middle Earth

Time: 588 F.A

She could not sleep that night, or for all nights for that matter. The reason was that she had hardly slept peacefully since Angband, afraid at the total darkness as she shut her eyes. She was afraid to dream as well, to hear the dark tapping of boots to the whipping of flames. The screams and howling of the wind were in fact wolves, ripping to shreds the flesh of their victims.

Another was because of her hands. After the death of Ancalagon and the capture of Morgoth and Sauron, the eagles had brought her back to the elves. Almost all of Beleriand had been washed away or sunk under the waters, with East Beleriand (mainly Ossiriand) intact. She knew that many were going to sail then and there to Valinor, and she wasn't even sure herself if she would be counted amongst them. After what happened, the Valar would not even bat an eye at her request to land back into what had been her home.

Even then, she was a baby when she left Aman, brought along by her brother with Turgon's host. She had not experienced the light of Valinor such as her brother, and thus her home would always be here. Once had been Gondolin. But now...she wasn't sure anymore.

After finally becoming restless, Elemmírë stood up – carefully rolling up and grabbing her gloves from the side of her bedroll. She couldn't bear to look at her hands anymore, scared and burnt red. The healers along with Elrond had done all they could but the breath of the dragon could not mend the hands of The Eternal.

She got up and grabbed her cloak and headed to wander about the camp at night.

It was there she heard several footsteps coming from the southern end. Elemmírë approached the commotion before she gaped at the fallen Vanyarin soldiers down the path. Elemmírë raced down until she spotted the faded red and gold armour.

As she found the two people she had expected, they were running across until she spoke. They spotted her and stopped in their tracks.

"Mae? Maglor?" She wondered. As her eyes glided down, she felt the aura around the pouch in Maedhros' hand.

The Silmarils.

Confusion, anger, and sadness rose in Elemmírë as she strode up to them and tried to reach out. As she went to hover her hand over Maedhros' face, he grabbed her wrist gently.

Bright blue eyes met his own pale blue-grey ones.

Elemmírë silently pleaded, wanting to shout at him to turn back and return them. To forget the Oath and the jewels.

However, that was not the case.

Maedhros whispered to her, "I'm sorry Elemmírë." Letting go of her wrist, he nudged his chin to Maglor who stood so frozen in place staring at her.

After all this time, was their friendship was simply this? Forgotten because of jewels their father made them take the oath with? Elemmírë had thought all this time she and the twins' influence, their love and family bond would stop the pull.

The Sons of Fëanor gave her one last look before they fled into the night, staring at them as they were lost into the forest.

She heard two pairs of feet rush towards her. Elros questioned her by her side, "What is it?"

All she could say blankly was this. "They took it."

"Atto wouldn't...Maedhros would not...They would not just leave us." Elros' voiced wavered.

She could sense Elros' anger whereas Elrond's own emotion was filled with betrayal. Grasping their hands at each of her sides, all she could do was keep the twins at ease.

Soon, many of the elves already sensed what occurred, with many crying as their friends or family were slaughtered during the night. Someone shouted, "Somebody stop them!"

Another pointed a finger at her and yelled, "It's her! She allowed them!"

Elemmírë's heart was pounding, until she found Gil-Galad, Círdan and Eönwë in front of them. She heard Eönwë's cold tone resonate in her. "Let them go. They do not know the consequences of their actions."

Somehow, that was when her mind changed. She inhaled sharply before telling the twins in their minds her choice.

'I have to follow them.' Elemmírë told the two.

Elrond nodded, "Then we'll go with you."

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Location: East of Middle Earth

"It is no use! Argh!"

Maedhros yelled in agony, grasping the jewel in his left hand.

Elemmírë was several feet away, trying to approach him. However, as she took a step forward, Maedhros took a step back...closer into the fiery pit of the volcano. She felt his pain, his sorrow. She was doing she can, pleading him to come back and talk this through – to forget about the jewel and to go home.

He was the only one left that knew her, who knew her torment and suffering under Morgoth. The one who brought her back to the light. Maglor had disappeared, causing the twins to feel lost as well. Their own father, the elven lord who took them in and loved them as his own.

But to Elemmírë, Maedhros was her brother. She couldn't lose another brother again.

"Let go then!" She cried, tears spilling down her cheek as they dried immediately by the heat.

Maedhros' face was illuminated by the lava below as he took another step back. He whispered towards her, "I cannot...I...this is what I deserve."

She growled in frustration and cried, "You have fought the oath before because of the twins! Because of me!" Elemmírë begged, "Please, I know you can do this!"

There was a moment in which the two stared at each other.

Elemmírë's lip trembled as she pleaded, "Maitimo, please."

There, Maedhros spoke, "I'm sorry..."

Elemmírë raced up to him but was too late. "NO!"

And with the Silmaril, his body fell back off the cliff into the chasm of lava.

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[1] - Mouths of Sirion: great delta where the river Sirion emptied into the sea. This is where the Havens are which most of the exiles of Doriath and Gondolin sought refuge. This included Idril, Tuor, Earendil and Elwing.
[2] - Taur-im-Duinath: called the Forest between rivers as it laid between the rivers Sirion and Gelion. A dark gloomy forest that extended south of the Andram.
[3] - Ossiriand: A region of eastern Beleriand bounded by the river Gelion on the west and Ered Luin on the east. A wooded region with many elm trees.
[4] - Laiquendi: Also known as the green elves, were a clan of the Nandor who lived in Ossiriand.
[5] - The Oath of Feanor: A dreadful irrevocable oath taken by Feanor and his seven sons in the city of Tirion to retrieve the Silmarils.
[6] - Maedhros/Maitimo: Maedhros was his Sindarin name and Maitimo was his Quenya Mother name.
[7] - Orodreth: A Noldo and once King of Nargotrhong. Son of Angrod.
[8] - Angrod: Son of Finarfin and was the second oldest of his siblings. He and Aegnor held Dorthonion against Morgoth and were slain in Dagor Bragollach (Battle of Sudden Flame).
[9] - Vanyar: One of the three groups of the High Elves, they comprise most of those who didn't leave Aman and Dwelt near to the Trees of Valinor.
[10] - Atar/Atto: Father/Daddy (don't not like that) in Quenya.
[11] - Amon Ereb: Known as Lonely Hill was a broad shallow sided hill that was of strategic importance as it guarded the eastern passage around the Long Wall of Andram into the southern parts of East Beleriand.
[12] - Nogrod: One of the two dwarven cities in Ered Luin in the First Age.
[13] - Belegost: One of the two dwarven cities in Ered Luin which was followed by Khazad-Dum.
[14] - Thargelion: Flat wooded region of East Beleriand east of the river Gelion and bordering the Blue Mountains. Was the land of Caranthir before his death.
[15] - Lake Helevorn: A deep mountain-shaded lake in Northern Thargelion. Its waters were defiled by Orcs during Dagor Bragollach.
[16] - Angband: A fortified citadel constructed by Melkor in the earliest days of the world.
[17] - Ancalagon: Was the greatest of the winged dragons of Morgoth. Apparently, the dragon was so big it broke the towers of Thangorodrim.

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A/N: So who knew I had time to get this up? Honestly, I am drowning in work and I somehow had time to manage to get this up.

This was just a background chapter and one of the more angsty and dramatic ones. A lot of time skips but it was what I could do best. Next chapter we get back to the present. What did you guys think of that? And her connection to the Feanorians?

Thank you again. :)

Edited: 06/10/2021