Disapointment and Poor Life Choices

Disappointments and Poor Life Choices

A/N Beren and Lúthien, but from the perspective of Maedhros and Maglor in Himring. Because this is from the point of view Noldor lords, I'm using the Quenya names. Artaresto is Arafinwë's son.

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I don't know what I was expecting when we received a message from Artaresto. We'd heard word that Tyelkormo and Atarinkë had taken refuge in Nargothrond after the Bragollach. They'd always been decent friends, so that was fine right? Well, it was wasn't.

I was in the study with Maitimo. He was going through various papers and reports when a courier rushed in with a message. It was the first we'd heard from Artaresto after the Bragollach and we are glad to hear that he was alive, though it was curious that it was from him instead of Findaráto. I was absently plucking at the strings of my zither. Looking up I saw Maitimo frown and purse his lips and I knew in that way that older brothers do that it had to be about our younger brothers.

He didn't speak for a while, so I asked, "What is it?" And continued to play.

He looked up at me. "Tyelko and Curvo have been causing trouble for Ataresto."

"Really?" I asked. "Not that I'm terribly surprised, but what is it?" Friends though they be, Tyelkormo and Atarinkë are Tyelkormo and Atarinkë.

Maitimo snorted and muttered, "What do you mean you're not surprised?" Out loud he said, "They've been trying to sway the people of Nargothrond to their side. Also, apparently Findaráto is on a suicide mission."

Alarm took over my features. "What, why?"

Maitimo sighed. "He doesn't go into much detail, but do you remember Barahir of the house of Bëor?"

I shrugged.

"He saved Findaráto's life during the battle, so Findaráto swore that Barahir and any of his descendants could call upon him at need. His son Beren came to make good on that."

"So?" The zither sat idle before me.

Maitimo paused, "It appears that this Beren has fallen in love with Princess Lúthien, Thingol and Melian's daughter."

My eyes widened. I couldn't say knew Thingol very well, but I could hazard a guess he hadn't taken kindly to that."

Maitimo continued, "Beren asked for Lúthien's hand and Thingol gave him a mission to capture a Silmaril before they could wed."

A cold feeling crept into my veins. "What was he thinking?" I said almost to myself.

"That he didn't want a mortal son-in-law, probably." Maitimo shrugged. "It's an impossible quest for anyone to undertake. He would have started the quest, failed, and that would be that." Maitimo sighed. "But now he's had to go and involve others, and Findaráto's gone with him out of loyalty to his oath."

"And perhaps empathy," I added, recalling Amarië.

"Whatever the cause, we've as good as lost one of our best allies." Maitimo buried his face in his remaining hand.

I felt a sudden pang in my heart for him. The Dagor Bragollach almost destroyed us. My lands, the plain's of Lothlann, along with Himlad and Thargelion, had been completely lost. With Nelyo's fiery will, Himring withstood the assault. The Ambarussa and Carnistir retreated to Amon Ereb, and Tyelkormo and Atarinke escaped north of Doriath to Nargothrond. Others weren't able to escape. Angaráto and Aikanáro and most of the Bëorians were slain or consumed in the flames.

A deep ache settled over me again as I remembered my wife, Dŷrril, who was lost in the flames. Leading what was left of my people through the inferno and the legions and legions of orcs and fell creatures after losing her was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do. If Nelyo hadn't been there for me at the end of it, I don't know if I could have pulled together the strength to survive. I depended on my older brother more than ever, but now that my physical wounds were healed, I was trying to help him however I could. Heaven knows he needed it.