[Elrond and Elros are sent under Finarfin's care during the War of Wrath. Finarfin and Elrond have a conversation about two Very Problematic members of their families.]
Elrond tapped his fingers nervously on the table, clenching his teeth, running his other hand through his hair.
It was quiet. Even calm. Which was - which was driving Elrond crazy, because calm was not something he was used to. Not what the Feanorings had prepared him for. Calm in the midst of war is not calm. It is a trap. So all his senses shouted to him.
Finarfin did not think so.
Elrond had to trust Finarfin. First, he was a king (perhaps not Elrond's king, but still). Second, he was--he was a seer, a strong seer, and if he said to set up camp and stop for a few days, that meant they were safe. Third, Maglor -
He looked straight into his eyes, squeezing his shoulder with his hand. Around them was the chaos of the camp, people grabbing their swords and things. Surprisingly, Maglor was Elrond's island of stability.
"He- he's a good man, Elrond. He'll take care of you."
Elrond bit his lip. They had already quarreled about it. They already screamed and cried.
"Stay...stay near him. He'll protect you. I know."
"Come with us."
"Elrond - Elrond, you know we can't."
Elrond knew that better than anyone.
- Maglor told them to believe Finarfin, whatever that meant.
The king himself was sitting on a rough sofa with a pile of papers in his hands. His face was as calm as ever, his hair glowing softly in the semi-darkness of the tent (Elrond knew that hair was not the only thing that could glow; the memory of the light with which Finarfin once burned on the battlefield was still fresh).
Elros sat next to the king.
Elros - Elros stared at the king appraisingly.
Elrond shifted nervously in his chair, because that look in Elros meant a challenge.
Elros was angry with the Feanorings. With Maedhros, to be specific. He had always been closer to Maedhros and therefore he took the decision to send them to Finarfin as a knife to his back.
Elros hated Finarfin. From the very beginning, there was a challenge in his eyes. He often made sharp remarks, to which Finarfin responded with quotations from books. He specially spoke with a strongly accented "th" instead of "s" - Finarfin switched to a Feanoring accent in conversations with him.
Elros hated Finarfin because he never accepted a challenge.
And now Elros was planning a new provocation, and Elrond begged him, begged him to stop, because Maglor and Maedhros trusted them, Maglor and Maedhros-
Elros winced and nudged the king's shoulder with his head.
Elrond noted three things. How tense Elros remained, how his face was still contorted as if in anticipation of pain. The way his own stomach went cold with fear because I begged you not to. How Finarfin froze and how for a second a surprised expression crossed his face.
Then the king placed the papers on his lap, picked up the blanket that lay aside, and sighed, throwing it over Elros's shoulders. As Peredhel's eyes widened and stared intently at the papers on the king's lap, he knew this was not the reaction Elros had expected.
Finarfin returned to the rustling of raports.
Elros frowned and leaned on the king's shoulder.
This time the king did not pay attention to him.
~
Okay. Elrond took a breath, his eyes running over the report. Okay. He exhaled, still feeling uncomfortable under the king's gaze.
Finarfin wasn't looking at the papers, staring at his assistant instead.
Inhale. Exhale.
"You're worried."
Elrond could barely hold back a nervous laugh. Yes, they are in the middle of a war, the Feanorings are doing inexplicable what inexplicably why, Elros is jumping from fire to ice, why in the world would he be worried??
Finarfin sighed.
"Elrond."
"I'm fine. All's-"
"Is it about Elros?"
Peredhel inhaled, exhaled, looked away.
"He - he's not always like that, though, he's just angry and nervous, because, because-"
"Elrond," the king's voice was soft, yes, soft. "I am not angry with him."
This time Elrond laughed nervously.
"Do not say it in front of him, he will take that as a challenge."
"Elrond, I am not angry with him. I will not order him to be taken away from me and I will not punish him, I will not leave you on the sidelines and I will not abandon you to the orcs."
Elrond inhaled as he prepared to say something. Then exhaled, turning pale.
"This... I'm so - I'm so sorr-..."
"You're worried," the king calmly explained. "Sometimes your shields crack, and since you think most of all about Elros and, as a result, about me -"
He stuttered. Morgoth and Valaraucar, speak not of the Feanorings, speak not of the Feanorings-
Finarfin watched him patiently. Elrond slumped his shoulders.
"Maglor said you can be trusted."
The king looked away.
There was silence. A candle flickered softly.
Finarfin sighed, leaned back in his chair.
"I am not a monster, Elrond," Peredhel took a sharp breath, closed all mental walls and shields again. Finarfin stared into the darkness of the tent. "I won't - I understand that you love them."
"Elros is angry that they sent us away," Elrond said quietly, clutching his quill. "That's why he..."
"I know. That's why I'm not angry. I- Elrond, I understand."
Elrond wanted to laugh again, because how could one even understand that? They slayed - they slayed his people, because of them Mother threw herself into the sea, they took him and Elros, held them captive, but Elrond loved them all the same, because - because they are Maedhros and Maglor, these are his Maedhros and Maglor -
Finarfin was looking at him, and Elrond noticed for the first time how gray his eyes were.
"Elrond," the king repeated, steel in his voice. "I understand, because they are my - they are my family too, Elrond."
He understands because they are his family.
His family.
"And I want to hate them for what they did too. They - after Alqualonde I had nightmares for several hundred years. Even now, when I remember -"
"Blood," Elrond whispered. "There was a lot of blood. And bodies. And mom - we thought mom was dead - and dad - he -"
"I know," whispered Finarfin. "I know."
"I - have to hate them."
"Me too".
"But - I -"
"I can't," Finarfin finished for him.
He paused, then smiled faintly.
"Finrod asked me to make sure they survive," he said, and Elrond straightened up, for Finarfin rarely spoke of Finrod. "I... I remember how Maedros and I played adults at banquets. We were twenty years old? Maglor - I've heard Maglor play before he became the best minstrel and honestly I don't know how I'm not deaf yet."
Elrond smiled weakly.
"Maglor knows how to make people want to go deaf."
"Yes. And Maedros pretends to be strong, although he himself breaks under pressure," Finarfin looked away, his face became sad.
"He... was like that in Aman too?"
"Towards the end, yes. After... Formenos. I think. I don't know. We - we were all not in the best shape then."
Elrond put down his quill, pushed the report aside.
"I would like to know them when... when they were like then. Before - before Morgoth, before the Silmarils," he whispered. "When everything was... calm."
"Perhaps someday," Finarfin looked at him, and tenderness appeared in his eyes. "Once upon a time. In Arda Renewed, perhaps. This is Finrod's favorite phrase when he talks about his... mortal friends. Maybe in Arda Renewed we will all be one big, friendly family."
"Perhaps," Elrond agreed quietly and returned to work. Finarfin disapprovingly took the papers from him.
"Enough for you for today, Peredhel. Go to sleep."
Elrond wanted to protest, but snapped his mouth shut and stood up.
As he was leaving the tent, Finarfin called out to him one last time.
"Tell Elros that when he needs a hug, he can just ask. No need to plan a ten-step attack with retreat possibility."
At first I thought Celegorm was a loser and bad guy. Then my thoughts turned to Huan. Many fans think he was a dog. But he was a wolf without any doubt. A dog would not betray his master. And I felt pain for Celegorm.
But maybe it is not so sad story. Celegorm couldn’t confess his love for Luthien by beautiful words. And that’s why he sent Huan to protect his love.
