Where the Drifts run deepest

Author: Bird
Title: I run off where the drifts are deepest (2/?)
Series: Half-breeds
Rating: PG-13 to NC-17
Warnings: sex in this one
Summary: After the Dagor Aglareb, Maedhros and Maglor founded their neighboring realms in Eastern Beleriand, Himring and Maglor’s Gap. Over a decade later they harbor a wandering troupe of Avari…
Time Line: around First Age 90

-----

Maglor rearranged the winter flowers in the vase on a narrow table set far against the south wall of the great hall. The bell-shaped blossoms drooped along the stems in little clusters, pale blue lines barely perceptible.

He felt useless this day. It was not that there was nothing to do what with the daily needs of such a fortress, and the continual watch of the gap between the two branches of the Gelion. Despite the lack of Morgoth’s attacks trying to break his defenses, the elves of his realm did not drop their guard. But very little had happened to add interest to their lives. Except for perhaps the Avari that had passed through. But they were long gone; as they had watched the odd creatures continue west through the snowdrifts, wrapped in their wolf-fur cloaks, a mad little band that traveled on its mysterious quest.

Life returned to its dull routine, and Maglor noticed in his own mind and in Maedhros’ demeanor a bit of longing for the insane conversations they had had with the Avari. Even though they had become defensive when confronted with their own fears through the questions and insight of the Avari, the two brothers could not deny their own relief at sharing fears—though they voiced them not—they dared not speak about with their own blood kin.

“We were a ship of fools,” Maglor broke the silence of their lonely dinner that night.

“We are all still fools believing in all fed us through the years,” Maedhros stared at his plate; he could not seem to force himself to eat.

“We are guilty of feeding others the same, much of it created by us ourselves,” Maglor pushed his own plate away. “Could we not just forsake our oath? What is holding us to it, except for our own consciences?” Maedhros looked up at him silently, listening to his brother. “Are we not in control of our own fates? We made a choice, a poor one based on a misinformed loyalty to our father, and his own anger fed by the dark lord we now fight against. Could we not just admit that we were wrong, beg forgiveness, and find peace in some far off land?”

“And who do you think would allow us to do that? Who would accept two defeated Noldorin princes, exiled from their homeland, rejected by their kin, cursed by the Valar, and hounded by Morgoth?”

“The mad Avari.”

Maedhros laughed bitterly, “And we could wander the lands of Arda muttering in nonsensical prose and verse, spilling our wine, laughing boisterously in inappropriate situations—”

“—With a chance of being happy, or at least at peace? I would.”

-----

Maglor batted at the snorting head of his stallion. It nuzzled against his head, nipping at his ear with its teeth in a fond gesture of familiarity. White tendrils of frosty air curled about Maglor’s head with each snort of the horse. In the distance Anor rose casting its glittering and shimmering light across the snow rolling before them. Maglor held his breath, momentarily stunned by the beauty of the scene. Panning his vision across the elves surrounding him in the morning light, each preparing their own steeds for the journey to Curufin and Celegorm’s kingdom, Maglor could not help but feel invigorated. Crisp and icy, the air refreshed his lungs after the month of blizzards that kept them holed up in the citadel. Since the establishment of his fortress, Maglor, nor Maedhros, had dared to travel further than each other’s kingdoms, but as needs had now forced them, in the name of honor and familial relations, both were to ride to the joint kingdom of their brothers. As it would be, they suspected correctly that this child, Celebrimbor, would be the only heir of Fëanor sons. As Maedhros routinely pointed out to the ever hopeful Maglor (despite his acceptance of the inevitable), they could not afford to bear children and thus continue the curse; but that through their celibacy or refusal to father children, the cursed would end with them when they finally succumbed to or accepted their inevitable fates.

Maglor tugged a braid and reached up to stroke the side of his stallion’s chestnut colored neck. His stomach twisted, but he forced himself to mount his horse. One of the valets, an ellon, rushed to his side carrying a heavy blue-dyed woolen cloak. Unfolding it, shaking it out in the wind that whirled, he flicked the cloak about his shoulders and clasped it across his chest.

”Tis time, brother,” Maglor cocked his head to the side to see Maedhros riding up beside him, also in blue that seemed all the more stunning in contrast to his red hair.

”It has only been a little over a week, do you think…” Maedhros trailed off staring into the west.

”I try not to think,” Maglor squeezed his legs against the horse, causing it to trot forward. Maedhros shook his head and watch him ride away. Behind him the others were ready, and as soon as Maglor gave the signal, they would start the journey.

----

They rode on and on, sometimes in a frenzy, their horses kicking up a froth of snow and mud, other times a meditative pace so quiet not even the steeds seemed to breathe. In the night, the elves sat huddled about their fires, listening to the songs that so comforted their hearts or elaborated their grief.

Maedhros looked up from beneath his hood drawn about his head for warmth and protection from the howling night wind, watching Maglor stand and disappear into the trees shadowing their encampment. He bit his lip and glanced down in thought. It seemed to Maedhros that daily Maglor grew more distant from the art that had once brought him much pleasure.

He could still see his brother’s silhouette in the moonlight. Maglor shoved his hood back and leaned his shoulder against a tree, arms folded, and facing away from firelight. Maedhros had not realized how alike they had truly become, till he had come to visit him this time. It had not been a long time since the Dagor Aglareb, nor since they had crossed the sea. But both had changed incredibly since then. Maedhros had always been quiet and pensive in nature, and Maglor gentle, yet more jovial. But since then, the accumulation of regrets, plus the experiences of war and murder, had warped their minds.

Maedhros wiped at his eye with forefinger and shook his head.

Valinor had been paradise, and they had destroyed it.

They had destroyed their ability to create anything pure, as Maedhros had noticed his brother’s growing removal from music. Apart from those rare private moments he shared in bitter jest with Maedhros, Maglor had not played nor sung since crossing the sea.

He rose to his feet; and avoiding the questioning looks of their companions, Maedhros strode quickly to his brother, his boots sinking slightly into the snow. He clasped a firm but comforting hand upon Maglor’s shoulder, and he noticed that also of late, Maglor was becoming more easily startled.
Maglor jumped slightly, though not enough for anyone to notice but Maedhros.

“You startled me,” Maglor laughed uneasily, smiling ruefully at his brother over his shoulder.

“Aye,” Maedhros answered, “Too easily.” Neither needed to ask what plagued the other. Maglor lifted his eyes toward the heavens, his hand finding the end of his braid. Maedhros reached a hand over Maglor’s shoulder and covered his brother’s hand with his own, stopping Maglor’s habitual tugging.

“Mother and Telewen see these same stars at night. They gaze at the same sunrise each morn as well.” Maglor broke the deep silence that had fallen over them, and Maedhros smiled bitterly though his brother could not see it. They had not spoken of their mother, of wives left behind, ever. Not since that day their father had made his declaration, and they had remained behind, had the brothers mentioned them, though, even now, Maedhros sensed that same gentle spirit of their mother within Maglor.

Maglor shuddered against his brother, words of heavenly voice haunting him, forever echoing and reminding him of the great divide that separated him from those he had left behind, of his wife, Telewen, to whom he could never return, even through death.

A warm drop hit Maedhros’ hand, mirroring the silent ones he held back within his own eyes. Maglor turned into his brother’s half-embrace, curling his arm about Maedhros and nesting his head against his shoulder. Neither made a sound, though their tears soaked into each other’s hair and cloaks, Maglor clutching his brother’s right wrist against his chest, and Maedhros stroking his brother’s back in comfort.

--------

The elves of Curufin and Celegorm’s joint fortress afforded Maglor and Maedhros every respect and comfort befitting the brothers of their lords. Unlike their own realms, their brothers could only be called flamboyant in their taste of décor and extravagance. As quickly as they had established their own entourages, Curufin and Celegorm had found the solace and comfort from their own deeds in the arms of pleasure, and the essence of this oozed in the very air of the place. Wine flowed more freely, in the sense that it was unlimited in the quantities imbibed in one sitting, food was more richly prepared till it could make one sick, and lust the two exhibited publicly and unashamedly.

Maedhros and Maglor bowed respectfully before their gaily-attired brothers, solemn in their performance of this budding ritual. Their traveling companions mimicked them. Curufin and Celegorm stood from their identical seats in the center of their receiving hall. Beside Celegorm’s chair stood the great hound Huan. All around the scent of spices, burning and infiltrating the air, accosted their guests, gilded silver and gold scrollwork graced every doorframe and window. Tapestries of glorified hunts and victories, both real and imagined, hung upon the walls.

Curufin laughed heartily, stepping down from their little stage, his arms open wide in welcome, embracing first a grim Maedhros and second a frowning Maglor. Celegorm followed suit, also grinning mirthfully, kissing his brothers on the cheek.

“We have seen too little of you of late!” Curufin’s voice never had been soft, and it rang loudly in the cavernous hall. In fifteen years of the sun, they had not seen each other, and both eldest brothers steeled their hearts against the one who mirrored their father so much.
Maedhros’ ears ached and his head swam as Curufin slung an oppressively friendly arm about his shoulders, all sorts of false and practiced familiarities and greetings flowing from his brother’s mouth.

“You have come to see the babe,” Celegorm spoke up, as he followed behind with Maglor, both keeping a distance between them. Forced smiles were exchanged between the two.

Curufin lost not a beat in his flow, “Yes my son! The babe and light of my life, the heir to our realm.”
Maglor noticed Celegorm’s narrowed eyes at Curufin’s declaration.

“You still assume that we will die.” Celegorm stroked the head of the hound that followed at his side.

“And you still assume that we will not.” Curufin shook himself off Maedhros, an angry lilt to his voice.
Celegorm whispered to the beast to remain behind.

Curufin led them out of the hall, past the quizzical glances and respectful nods of gaily attired ellyn and ellith. Past doors, and more doors, through halls filled with music and down corridors brightly lit, they traveled till Curufin reached out and touched the knob of a simplistically carved door.
Silently it opened. They were greeted by the strains of a softly bitter lullaby, a sharp contrast to the flamboyance of the rest of the fortress.

“Heed not the shadows, my babe.
Follow not the stars, my son.
Be ever wary, my child,
Of those surrounding us…

Sleep in peace,
Sleep in peace, my darling,
For when you wake, my love,
It will all be gone.”

Smoothly it opened further and Maedhros could see in. A small slender elleth sat in a chair, her head thrown back and eyes closed, clutching a tiny elfling bundled in cloth to her bare breasts. Her hair was pulled back though it still had an air of messiness about it, the ends carelessly brushing her bared shoulders. She wore a simple muslin garment loose, hanging low about her arms, and open revealing her alabaster skin that appeared soft if one were to touch it.

The infant’s mouth suckled noisily as she rocked and sang.

Maedhros felt inclined to throttle his brother when Curufin cleared his throat and ended the peaceful scene.

The elleth opened her eyes, ended her song, and upon seeing the four ellyn staring at her, grew extremely modest. She drew the babe from her breast and clutched her garment closed, drawing the strings and tying them.

To Maedhros and Maglor, she and the babe seemed out of place within the gaiety of their brothers’ world.

“My son, Celebrimbor,” Curufin reached for the babe, and the elleth reluctantly released the infant to his father, though she did not meet Curufin’s gaze. Maglor took note that in deed she stared over his shoulder toward Celegorm who smirked as their eyes met, and she glared.
Curufin whirled around, extending the infant toward those behind him.

Brightly twinkling eyes opened wide in curiosity at the elves around him. Feathery soft black hair stuck up on his head, and he cooed softly, extending his chubby fingers toward his uncles. Curufin thrust Celebrimbor to Maedhros, “He will not bite,” he laughed, and forced the child into his arms.
Staring in bewilderment at the babe, Maedhros shifted uncomfortably with the foreign feel of his nephew cradled in his arms.

Celebrimbor gurgled and burped, smiled and grasped the ends of Maedhros’ hair. A smile twitched at the corner of his uncle’s mouth.

Maglor turned from the scene and bowed to the elleth who appeared fretful about her son.

“My lady, my greatest respects,” he maneuvered around his brothers and reached for her hand.

She withdrew it and turned her face away shamefully. “I am no lady, nor deserving of your respect.”

Taken aback, Maglor straightened and turned to Curufin angrily, taking a calming breath.

“You have not wed her. You created a child without bonding.”

Maedhros looked up sharply from the gentle creature in his arms that he had finally decided was perfect, and joined Maglor in glaring at his brother. Celegorm crossed his arms, his smirk remaining. For a moment the elleth was forgotten amidst boiling blood between brothers bound together through something more powerful than philia.

“What would you have me do, bring her down with us,” Curufin whispered, his gay façade flickering and disappearing all together.

-----

“Why do you deny me this,” the elleth spoke steadily, her tiny fists at her sides. Curufin stared down at her, a look of bewilderment on his face. When she was angry, her face flushed brightly, and her eyes glittered all the more brilliantly. She looked wild, her light brown hair a mass of curling tangles despite her efforts to tame it, and pulled back into a messy knot high on the back of her head.

“You know why, why do you continue to pester me with your questions?” He turned from her, hand on his chest as he tried to breathe, his breaths coming short and labored. He blinked and shook his head to clear it.

“Aye, but I wish I did not--” She reached up and tentatively touched his back, feeling the muscles of his back tense and relax as he breathed. She bit her lip and sighed.

“--Do you know what you ask of me, when you speak of bonding?” He pulled from her touch and faced her, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look up at him. “You ask me to bring you into my terrible world, among the bloodshed of my oath--” Visions of others left behind, his mother whom he had so coldly left, the wives of his brothers, a lover of his own one with whom he had promised to bond, danced in his mind, taunting him.

“--which you cover with this façade of exuberance and joviality. What do you think, ‘Fin? That you keep me out of it by creating a child with me out of bonding?” She winced at the increased pressure of his fingers into her shoulders.

“I keep you from the curse of death and grief…”

She jerked out of his grip and shoved past him to the cradle beside them. They had not awakened Celebrimbor with their angry squabble. Tenderness chased away her ire, and she caressed her child’s downy cheek, trailing a finger down his plump arm to his clenched fist. Yawning toothlessly, Celebrimbor stretched, opened his hand, and wrapped his mother’s finger in his fist, sucking on it in his sleep. She smiled and bent down to kiss it.

She straightened and removed her finger from her son’s grip gently, and turned back to Curufin.

“I am not one of your kind, not even of the Sindar. You seem to continually forget that I am a Nando, and not subjected to the rules of your people. Remember, I agreed to bear your child without bonding, though I was a fool for it.”

“For which I will forever thank you,” he pulled her toward him and leaned down to kiss her lips, but she turned her head so that his lips only met her cheek. Curufin frowned and let her go. “So be it then,” he stated plastering a blank expression on his face. He smoothed back a few errant strands of his dark hair, straightened up, and walked to the door. “Care for my son well, then,” he turned the knob and walked out.

Facing the door, she closed her eyes, tears escaping her eyes, as the door slammed shut. A soft cry from the cradle jostled her from her own displeasure, and she soothed him, gathering the babe into her arms,

“Hush my babe, please do not cry,
for I shall sing you a lullaby,
Listen to my words,
And fly away with the birds,”

her tears mingling with his innocent ones.

--------

Maglor sat ramrod straight across from Maedhros, who seemed just as uncomfortable as himself. The blood pounded in his ears and he fought to keep a stoic expression upon his face. Minstrels sang and danced about the dining hall, fiddlers and pipers full of wanton mirth as they pranced about. Occasionally one would come close to him and sing a verse or two, and he would hold back the urge to swat at them like they were flies.

Maedhros did not hide his displeasure at their surroundings but instead had turned his attention to Celegorm who was speaking about some fabulous hunt he had been on.

Celegorm leaned back in his chair, one foot on the table top, while the other pushed against the edge so that he rocked back and forth on the back legs of his chair. One hand absentmindedly, yet fondly, scratched behind Huan’s ears who sat beside him faithfully. His other hand fluttered about in the air as he gestured while he spoke. Long fair hair was occasionally brushed back from his eyes.

“You two must come hunting with me on the morrow,” Celegorm slammed the feet of his chair down on the floor, and his fist on the table to accentuate his desire. “You must, you cannot say no.”

Maedhros opened his mouth to offer some excuse, but was interrupted by Maglor, “We will be delighted,” Maedhros snapped his mouth shut and slouched back into his chair, casting a glare to his obliging brother.

-----

Celegorm acted as his own huntsman, neither trusting nor wanting to another with the job he so dearly treasured. Before the others rose from their beds, he had, with Huan by his side, prepared the hounds and horses himself. He had returned from the surrounding forest lands just as Maglor and Maedhros, and the rest of the elves, were awakening, prepared for the hunt, tracks and trails imprinted in his mind.

An hour before Anor rose, they gathered at the entrance of the fortress, dressed and armed for hunting, horses stamping their eagerness. Celegorm strode to the front of the party, his imposing figure demanding the attention of all. Huan followed him as he had in Valinor.

The crisp morning air was filled with the quiet chatter of excitement and exhilaration of anticipation, the hyped barking of the hounds jumping and dashing around and between the mounted elves

For a moment, Maglor recalled the hunts of Orome in all their serenity that seemed absent here.

As if reading Maglor’s thoughts, Maedhros rode up beside him and leaned toward him, “It has been less than a century of the sun since we arrived here on these shores, and yet all those years in Valinor seem an eternity away.” Maglor’s dark eyes flickered, his only sign of emotion.

Their personal companions also rode with them this morn, as well as Celegorm and his followers. Curufin was not present yet, and Maedhros looked around in wonder at his missing brother. Celegorm rode about checking to make sure everyone was adequately prepared.

“Why do you look so curiously around, brother,” Celegorm laughed deeply at Maedhros, hitting his shoulder in joviality. Maedhros held back a retort.

“Will Curufin not join us today?” Maglor replied instead.

Celegorm’s expression darkened. “He is not fond of the hunt though, as you will surely recall, he accompanied me often in Orome’s wood.” His smile returned, “But let us not think upon these things, of the past and darkness. Let us be off.” He clapped both brothers on the shoulders and reined his horse in the direction of the forest. Pausing before the dark wood, he pulled out his hunting horn, and blasted a long and powerful note that captured everyone’s attention. Huan leapt to his feet and disappeared in between the trees past his master. Celegorm replaced his horn at his side and, followed by the rest of the company, chased Huan.

Maglor and Maedhros, and their companions, remained a moment longer as the last of Celegorm’s ellyn disappeared, a bit stunned by the suddenness of it all.

“Do not tally, my friends,” a feminine voice called from the doors behind them. Turning his animal around Maedhros rode forward to the elleth leaning against the door, her arms folded across her chest. It was the female from the nursery, Celebrimbor’s mother. She still wore the off-white muslin shift from the night before and retained her air of disheveled causality. Only difference was that now she smiled. “You would not want to miss the excitement our esteemed lord would offer you.” Maglor had turned in his saddle and also gazed at her.

Their companions had not seen her the night before, and to be honest, neither brother had expected to see her outside of the nursery and among the others. She seemed a world apart, a calm among the whirling pleasures exhibited by the others, and they could not help but fear the others would sully her with their presence.

Maedhros rode up to the steps leading to the door, and extended his hand toward her. “Sister, what is your name, before we leave?”

“I am called Cua, by my family and people.” She sighed and straightened, taking the edge of the door in her hand as if to leave, but then as an afterthought, turned back to Maedhros and walked down the steps to where he sat mounted. “Do not judge them too harshly. They only wish to forget.” Her fingers touched the smooth suede covering his thigh, lingering a touch too long.

“My lords, we shall miss the morning hunt, and I fear that Lord Celegorm will return to inquire as to why we have tarried.” A fair ellon called from near the forest’s edge.

Maglor called angrily over his shoulder at the anxious elf, “Then go if you are so hot to shed blood!”

Taken aback by the gruffness of his lord, the ellyn nodded to his companions, and several spurred into the forest after Celegorm’s party.

Maedhros looked back at Maglor, an expression of pity on his face. “Is this any different from the hunts we have upon our own lands?” He turned back to say something else to the elleth but she was already gone. Sighing he reined his horse around and trotted toward the trees. “Let us be off then.”

His temper cooling as he realized his own foolishness, Maglor signaled to the elves that remained that they would be leaving now. He was daily amazed by the faithfulness they exhibited toward himself and Maedhros despite their spells and moments of insanity and anger, though they tried to remain as kind and benevolent toward those under their care.

------

Celegorm grinned from where he knelt, bent over the labouredly breathing stag. Maglor was horrified by the expression of pleasure upon his brother’s face. Celegorm jerked his arm, bringing his short blade across the animal’s throat. It shuddered briefly, then the forced rising of its body stopped.

Other animals had already been prepared and were ready to be hauled back to the fortress and to the kitchens.

Maedhros had led a party separate from the rest, in search of fowls, and they now returned, each laden with the fruits of their hunts, the birds filling canvas sacks tied to their saddles. All gathered in the clearing, dismounting and stretching their legs, gulping water despite the winter air. Blood stained the snow covering the forest floor where an animal had lain in its last dying moments.

Bread was shared among the elves, and Anor shone directly overhead indicating the noontime meal. Dry meat strips were passed about, and water skins, some filled with wine, also shared.

A fire was lit, and an elf sang a song thanking Eru for the blessings of the successful hunt. Their fortress would be satisfied.

Maglor had to admit to himself, this was no different from their own, though his stomach turned when he recalled the expression of Celegorm over the stag.

He knelt beside the fire, staring into the flames that licked the air and flicked its sparks upward, warming his hands. All around him elves laughed and when the blessing had ended, sang songs of humor. Even when he looked up, he thought he saw a smile twitching at the corner of Maedhros lips as he spoke with another.

Someone brought forth a spit and several of the fowl, dressed to be roasted, as well as a number large glistening trout Maglor wondered where had come from. So caught up in his part, he not noticed the variety of game brought, or the number of splits from the main party. So bent on watching Celegorm, he berated himself.

Looking around, he noticed the hogs, deer, and numerous other creatures being prepared to return the fortress. The elf with the spit jostled against him, as he set up the spit over the fire.

“My lord, my pardon,” the ellon smiled, skewering several birds on the spit.

“I will turn it for you,” Maglor returned the smile, and took the handle before the ellon could protest. Cheerfully, the ellon bowed and left to join his brethren.

As he turned the birds, Maglor’s stomach growled, the delicious scent of the fowl infiltrating his nostrils. Fat dripped off in sizzle drops, and the skin crisped to a golden brown color. The smells of the other roasts mingled, and his mouth watered in anticipation of the feast that would soon be shared among the elves.

“Brother,” Celegorm called from behind Maglor.

He glanced behind him and saw Maedhros and Celegorm striding up to him.

“We have others to do this chore for you,” Celegorm laughed.

“It is calming and meditative to watch,” Maglor smiled, turning his attention back to the fowls.

“Truly, you are strange, Maglor,” Celegorm chuckled and squatted beside him, Maedhros doing the same. Maglor met Maedhros quizzical expression across the fire, and he shook his head as if to chase away any questions this red-hair brother might have asked.

Celegorm reached out to the birds and pulled off a few strips of the meat, savoring the flavor as he tasted Maglor’s efforts. “I should keep you with me, as my personal roast-man,” he said in jest. He pulled off a larger chunk and passed it to Maglor, encouraging him to taste, also handing Maedhros his own share. Both had to admit to delicious flavor of the bird fed on the fruits of the forest.

“Tis time to feast then,” Celegorm slapped his knee and stood, calling to those around him. More wine skins were brought forth, and it flowed freely among them as they feasted. A skin was passed each to Maglor and Maedhros, though hesitant to join the reverie, they drank deeply allowing the spirits to chase away their melancholy for the time being.

They returned well before the night settled around, many of ellyn carrying their loads to the kitchens to be smoked and stored, and prepared for the next day’s meals.

“We do not always have such a hunt and feast among the trees,” Celegorm explained as he led them to their chambers for the night and respite they so desired. He paused before their adjacent doors. “We celebrate your presence with this gaiety,” he pushed open the door to Maglor’s rooms and bowed.

“Do not lie, Celegorm, it is most unbecoming of a prince,” Curufin came up behind them. He appeared irritated.

“And how would you know, Curufin, you refuse to join us anymore,” Celegorm snapped, turning his smile back on for his visiting brothers.

Curufin greeted his brothers with a kiss upon each cheek, pausing with his lips against Celegorm’s ear. “You know well why I refuse--”

Celegorm shook off his brother and hissed in reply, “I am no different from you, you just display it differently.”

-----

“Things are strange here, Maglor,” Maedhros mused as his explored the artistry around him in their chambers. He stopped, clasping his hands behind his back, and faced Maglor who lay across the luxuriously large four-poster bed on his back.

Maglor rolled over onto his stomach and supporting his head on his hands, sighed, “I know, and you did not see what I saw today.”

“Might it have to do with the strange conversation we witnessed not an hour ago?”

“I believe so.”

Maedhros let go his hands and sat on the bed beside Maglor, bending his knees as he leaned against the headboard.

“You did not see the perverted pleasure upon Celegorm’s face as he slit the throat of each animal, seeming to revel in the death he caused.”

Maedhros closed his eyes in a wince and nodded, “How far we have fallen from the golden paths the Valar set before us, in such a short time.”

------

Cua rocked Celebrimbor’s cradle with her barefoot as she gazed out the window of the nursery and into the night. She did not know he had entered the room till she felt his hand on the back of her neck, firm and unyielding, and she knew what he demanded.

“You should not have come,” Cua whispered as she continued to rock her babe.

Celegorm slid his fingers over her mouth, pressing hard into the flesh of her lips as if seeking to break the barrier and enter, and pressed his lips against her ear, “I hear that you have refused my brother, does the same hold true for me?” She could sense his sneer and shuddered as he ran his tongue along the edge of her ear. He released her mouth and let his fingers explore down the side of her neck to the neckline of her shift. His nose nuzzled her hair.

Velvet brocade rubbed against her flesh, and she shivered with the tickle.

His lips tasted the skin of her neck.

“Stop,” she pulled from his caress and stood, moving to the other side of the room far from him. But he would not be so easily spurned.

“Why now,” he asked in a hushed tone. He was upon her before she could protest, her back against the tapestry covered walls and standing on her tiptoes. Closing her eyes, she turned her face from him. In her mind she ran far from him, far from the hands that roved over her body, far from the kisses that made her moan in ecstasy despite herself. She ran among trees brightly colored green, among her own people in a time before she was spirited away by her need to explore.

Her thighs parted and her hem was hitched up. He grabbed her chin.

“Look at me,” Celegorm commanded, tilting her chin upward and leaning down to brush his lips against hers. Her eyes blinked open, her pupils quaking in anger, at herself, at him, at his brother. “You are my hidden dove.”

“I am no one’s, especially not yours,” she spat and struggled against his hold though she knew it to be in vain. “The one whose I would be is denied to me.”

“A vicious dove you have become, perhaps you are turning into a vulture,” he hissed, his exploring hand finding that which he sought between her legs. “Why fight me,” he smiled as he caressed her to a moan finding that hidden pearl in silken folds. “You know that you shall finding nothing but exquisite pleasure in my arms.”

Cua could not respond and relaxed in his arms, a groan escaping her parted lips. He pressed harder, and she slammed her head back against the wall, raising her legs around his waist. He fumbled with the hem of her shift and removed it from between them so that it wrinkled above where they would be joined, and fell in a soft cascade on either side of their bodies. Rock pressed at her core, and she knew he would soon feel her own arousal soaking through his leggings; she cast her vision to the floor, her cheeks reddening in shame at the onslaught of her mixed emotions. He forced her to look at him again.

“I am not a creature to be hunted, my lord. Neither am I for sport or amusement,” she panted. Tears streamed down her face and dripped on his arm that disappeared into her hair, fingers intertwined in her tresses.

“Hunted creatures do not enjoy their final end,” he growled wrenching open his lacings. His searing flesh sprung against her burning core intensifying the heat between them, and he stifled her groan with his hand. “Hush my darling, you would not wish to wake the precious babe,” he murmured in her ear, brushing back her hair for his tongue’s access to her lobe.

Slicking himself against her wetness, he undulated his hips until she opened glazed eyes upon him. Her head rolled on her neck, and she threw it forward against his shoulder, filling herself with the spicy scent of his hair, soft against her cheek.

He lifted her with his arm hooked under hers and with his other hand spread her nether lips wide while at the same time guiding his throbbing length into her channel. He slid in till no room would allow him.

She bit her lip, the coppery taste of blood sliding over her tongue, her eyes clenched shut.

Neither moved, but their shallow breaths came quick with the anticipation of what would happen next. They rested their chins on each other’s shoulders.

Cua opened her eyes to the blurred vision of the cradle across the room; she nearly cried out as she reached toward it desperately in anguish. Taking his hand from between them, he grabbed her reaching one and held it against the wall. He breathed deeply and pulled back, then slowly pushed back in.

“It will be a test,” he grunted softly, repeating his movement even more slowly than before each time. “To see if we can restrain our passion induced noise enough to allow Celebrimbor to sleep peacefully.”

She could not reply, and he continued to thrust, dropping her arm from the wall and laying it limply across his shoulder opposite from where her head lolled. His now free hand snaked between them, and his forefinger pressed inside her above his sliding length, reaching as far in as it could. He found her bundle of nerves and stroked it in time with his thrusts. The addition of the finger increased the tightness that already wrapped around him, and both groaned into the other’s hair at the intensity. The pad of his thumb rubbed over her pearl.

Again she threw her head back against the wall, fisting her hands in his golden hair, her hips meeting his with each thrust. He could see the red trickling down her lower lip where her teeth cut into them. He licked it off and kissed her, down her neck, nudging open the laces of her shift open so that the garment fell down her shoulders exposing the rosy tipped globes he wished to taste. He brought forth his fingers from her folds and raised them to her nose, the scent making her eyes flash open.

Greedily she sucked in both thumb and forefinger, lapping off every bit of her essence from them. He smiled as he watched her lust-filled eyes stare at him, her mouth stretched open by his fingers, her tongue lapping between them. He pinched her tongue, drew his fingers across it and out of her mouth. Before the moisture could evaporate he brought them to her nipple.

Celegorm bent his head and captured her nipple in his mouth, drawing his teeth across the already painfully hard nub, tugging it forward so that her breast bounced when he released it. Licking across the valley between, he did the same to her other one.

She let out a loud cry, and he clamped his hand over her mouth again, smirking, “HUSH…” Her hands left his hair, roaming down his chest and fumbling with the clasps of his tunic. He released her mouth and stopped her hands from succeeding. “Sorry, not this time,” he chuckled. He brought them further down so that she touched her own pearl. “Finish yourself for me, with me,” he murmured.

Her fingers brushed against his sliding and slick length, and he groaned against her, “You are luxurious, my dove, this silk that you hide here, so hot and wet…”

She flicked her finger across her over sensitized pearl, her walls instantly tightening around him, and he thrust in with a loud groan. This time she chastised him for his noise. She flicked faster and more furiously, arching her back against the wall, while he quickened his pace.

She spasmed around him, and he muffled her orgasmic cry with his mouth, finding his own release shortly after.

Supporting them with his weight, he kept himself buried within her depths a moment as his length softened. Then he let her fall against the wall, as he disentangled himself from her and pulled out of her warmth. With casual coldness, he stuffed himself back in his leggings and laced them, expressing a complete disregard for what they had just shared. She stared at him from the wall, her own appearance the complete opposite of his iciness. Her hair fell in wanton waves, her shift exposing most of her flushed, pale skin, still hot from their activity.

“You are a bastard,” she stated firmly, pulling her garment back on modestly, tying it below her throat.

“No, my dove,” he nodded toward the cradle, “that is a bastard. Your people should know the difference,” he added, straightening his body and stretching, smoothing back his hair and out the wrinkles in his clothing.

She stalked toward him, and her palm made a sharp crack as it connected with his face, a red mark immediately appearing on his face. “Just because I shared a secret we Moriquendi are privy to does not mean you can use it against me, or to insult my son.”

He grabbed the sides of her head between his hands and kissed her, shoving his tongue roughly between her lips. Cua wrenched from him and turned away from him.

“Leave now, as I had asked you before.”

He laughed quietly and turned toward the door; he touched the handle and paused. Over his shoulder he called, “Curufin knows--”

“Of course he does, Celegorm. This cloak you two have cast over this fortress has not been enough to protect you from each other.”

-----

Curufin shook with a terrifying rage the next morning, and Maglor grabbed his shoulder his words of calm bouncing off his brother. Maedhros shrugged helplessly and turned away, pretending that he did not see, though he could hear clearly his brother’s accusations.

Most of the elves slept, but in the early morning, before the sun had risen, Curufin had awakened his eldest brothers as he flew down the hall, leaving the nursery and a debauched Cua. In words measured and slow, she had recounted all, confirming what he had already suspected, that this had not been the first time.

Celegorm smirked from his seat, “I believe the only way to solve this is to send her away.” He sipped nonchalantly from his goblet and offered it up to Maedhros who stood beside him facing the tapestries as if he had found some great interest in them. Maedhros shook his head no, and returned to his perusals.

“You should have never touched her in the first place, brother,” Curufin sneered breaking from Maglor’s hold.

Celegorm leapt to his feet, nose to nose with his irate brother. “Neither should have you,” he hissed.

Curufin raised his fist and made a movement as if to strike Celegorm; instead he brought it to his mouth and bit it hard in hopes that the physical pain would dull the emotional. Maglor hands upon his shoulders cleared his vision a bit, and he backed down.

“Tell them, Celegorm, tell them why you find such pleasure in the hunt,” Curufin challenged, never losing eye contact with Celegorm. “Tell them,” he raised his voice, “tell them that you envision each creature as one of our enemies, fell or elven. That in each creature you see the Silmarils, and that with each letting of blood and death you hope that they will spill out into your hands! How quickly we have fallen!” He anguished and reiterated what Maglor and Maedhros already knew. Curufin paused and caught his breath, turning away from Celegorm, a desperate plea in his eye for Maglor, “I cannot escape this, I have caused much of this with my own hand since raising this fortress with him. How I wish I could raze it again.”

“Has he told you of the bemoaning howls of Huan, he who knows of his master’s fall? Has he told you that he hunted Cua as he does the creatures of the forest, but instead of killing her, searched for our father‘s jewels within her own caverns?”

Maglor stepped back from his distraught brother, denying his desperation, and looked up at Maedhros who now caught his attention with a steady gaze.

“How is that any different from what you have done with her,” Maedhros spoke levelly, his words accented at the end with a HA from Celegorm who threw himself back into his seat and chuckled.

“You see our dear oldest brothers,” Celegorm laughed, “He thinks he can cover his own misdeeds by claiming to protect her from our curse, and she clings to that and says that she loves him in returned. It is nothing more than a justification, a way of making him feel better for his child and lover. Imagine what he will do once she is gone, for I believe this change in our brother, this softening in his heart is purely from her presence--”

“--You have said enough, Celegorm. How much like Caranthir you have become, he who was dark even before our father became fell!” Maedhros stopped his brother’s flow.

Maglor cleared his throat, and all looked at him. “Send her with us. We will offer her protection, and she will no longer divide you.” Maedhros looked horrified, but Celegorm smiled. Curufin sank, with his head in hands, to the floor.

Maedhros quickly crossed to Maglor, whispering harshly in his ear why he would make such an offer.

“Because, who can she trust if not us. Besides, if the mad ones cross our path again, she might want to join them, and I trust them.” He ignored the curious expressions of their two younger brothers.

“She cannot take my son,” Curufin finally added. Maglor nodded in acceptance of the terms, though he continued to hold Maedhros’ disapproving gaze.

-----

Cua accepted the terms of her dismissal with a slam, locking the nursery door against them the next day, locking herself with her child against them. None could persuade her to open the door, and none would use force. Elves slipped past the door going about their business, casting it a knowing look.

Maglor and Maedhros pondered to what extent the others had known about their brothers’ pet. The child’s birth was no secret, and to those around them, Celegorm and Curufin exhibited the most gay of appearances despite what love and hate they held for each other privately, and to which only their visiting brothers were privy.

Almost as an afterthought, Maglor had rushed to his rooms, rifling through their bags, searching for the gift they had forgotten to present to their nephew.

He found it and paused a moment to admire the craftsmanship that only the Noldor could possess. Made of mithril deep in the bowels of his own underground forges, and he and Maedhros had collaborated on its design, it was bowl with the Two Trees molded around the side, the story of their birth and ultimate destruction.

Maedhros had whispered to him the design, adding, “it’s a cautionary tale, my brother.” Maglor had agreed.

In side, it was inscribed with words none but his kind could understand.

Maglor held it aloft to their brother, presenting the bowl to Curufin the night before their departure. Six days in total had past since their arrival, and Curufin took the beautiful item in his hands.

“I know that our craftsmanship could never match yours, which you inherited from our father, among other traits,” Maglor bowed in his public display of reverence. “But we expect that your son shall cherish this, and remember things that we hesitate to forget.”

Curufin turned the bowl around in his hands, running his fingers over the carefully crafted scenes. For a moment, Maglor and Maedhros envisioned that they watched their father, as they had so many times before.

“May your son inherited your wondrous skills, brother,” Maedhros added. “May he escape our curse by the will of the Valar.” The words left his mouth, and none believed them, and a heavy silence fell over them.

“I thank you, brothers,” Curufin dismissed them. They left, and he sat alone among his court, staring at the object in his hands. He called to a valet standing to the side, and the elf quickly found his master’s side. “Take this down to my forge below. It shall be melted down for more useful things…”

-------

“Do you think this is the right thing to do, Maglor,” Maedhros whispered to his brother, as Curufin hoisted Cua onto her horse for the journey to his brothers’ lands. Maglor’s horse tossed its head, and he gently patted its neck to calm it.

“Do you doubt me, brother?” Maglor nodded to the settled, but blank, Cua, offering her a smile of comfort. He squeezed the sides of his horse and rode over to her side, holding his hand out to her. “Please, have no fear of us.” Maglor glanced down at Curufin his expression matching hers, both holding their emotions at bay, whatever they might be, Maglor mused. “We will protect you…” He pressed her hand between his, meeting her eyes as she raised them to his.

Only Maedhros dared to look at Celegorm behind them and thought he saw the briefest hint of regret, which was quickly replaced with a mask of indifference once Celegorm noticed Maedhros’ gaze.

---------

Celegorm walked up behind Curufin, and spoke as his brother watched Cua ride away with their brothers, “Perhaps what we need is to leave for a spell, shake the dust of this place from our feet.”

Curufin continued to stare at the retreating mounted figures, “And what do you propose?”

Celegorm curled his lip in a smile, “I say a respite in Thargelion among Caranthir and his people. I have longed for his company--”

“Let us leave in the morning then,” Curufin stooped down, digging his fingers through the snow that had already begun to melt some, an indication of a warm spell approaching sometime in the near future. He found what he searched for, an ambitious seedling defying the snow and chill to sprout.