Work Text:
It all happened during one of the rare occasions that Fëanor had allowed his household to stay in one place for a lengthy period of time. Five years, even. Ostensibly Atya always got like this whenever Ammë was going to have a baby, or at least that’s what Nelyo told him.
“We dwelt for some time in Lórien when you were born too, Little Laurë,” Nelyo had explained to him gently when they first moved. “These gardens are the safest place for Ammë to bring your baby brother into the world. You will love it, I am sure.” Nelyo was never wrong. Makalaurë had loved it, and hence came his distress.
Makalaurë sniffed through a stuffy nose and kicked a pebble off of the beaten path. It skidded away into the silver trees, but he didn’t stop to watch as he stomped alone through the gently glowing woods.
Stupid baby. Stupid Atar. Now the baby was big enough to toddle around on it’s own chubby legs and make strange little growling noises at birds, so apparently it was time for them to move again. Makalaurë had finally made some friends who weren’t Nelyo or any of his Father’s attendants, and now he had to leave. The pretty maia who helped him sing to the birds and taught him some of the Healing Songs for making bruises and scrapes go away was going to sail away for some other country soon, he might never see her again ever. He had told Atar as much, and was in turn told sternly to leave the house and clear his head if he would not help pack his things.
Makalaurë scrubbed angrily at his eyes again, which still felt swollen and crusty with dried tears. Ugh. The path branched off into a more overgrown trail, the low light of Telperion glimmering through bushes tangled with vines and tall weeds. Makalaurë turned down it, thinking spitefully that maybe he’d just wander here forever without even saying goodbye to Atar instead of returning. Atar would regret yelling at him then!
Feeling very tragic, Makalaurë wandered further into the woods and then plunked himself down at the base of an old twisted tree, sniffling once more.
He finally scrubbed his face and looked around. He had been gone for some time now, and Telperion’s waning light made it hard to see more than his immediate surroundings. Suddenly anxious, Makalaurë scrambled up – he might actually be in trouble if he stayed out too long, and even Nelyo would be mad at him then. He dashed off in search of his little path, hoping if he ran fast enough he could get home before anyone noticed how late it was.
He kept running. The path was still not in sight. Makalaurë stopped dead and ran back to the twisted tree - he had barely left the path! It should still be in sight – maybe the other way?
By the third time he traced his steps through the underbrush back to the old tree, it was so dark that he nearly missed it. Makalaurë stood numbly in front of it, his heart thudding loudly in his chest. He had been out in the dark before, of course, but usually if it was very far Nelyo went with him.
Not that he was scared! It was trees, what could even be scary about this? It was just. Very dark.
Makalaurë gathered up his courage and yelled “HELLO?” through cupped hands. Someone would hear him, certainly, and come lead him back. “HELLO?? HELP! I’M LOST!” Not even an owl replied, although he could swear the last word echoed back at him mockingly from the forest. His eyes stung again, and he huddled closer to the tree. Just as he was about to begin crying, his ears caught the faintest of noises over the rustling of the leaves. Makalaurë’s head shot up, and he strained his ears – there! Someone was singing!
Almost shaking with relief he stood up and ran after the voice – it was sweet, but in a language he didn’t know – until finally he stumbled into a little glade. A tall, hooded stranger – a maia? Was the one singing, its back to Makalaurë.
“Hello,” Makalaurë introduced himself timidly, bobbing into a slight bow when the maia turned to look at him over his shoulder. “I’m Makalaurë, and I got lost. Can you help me?” The maia turned to face him fully, and in two swift strides crossed the clearing to crouch eye-level with Makalaurë.
“There you are,” the maia responded softly, although the words were accented strangely. It drew back its hood – the man had strange silver eyes and long dark hair that seemed to melt into the darkness around them. Still, he didn’t seem quite to be an elf – his ears were too strange and too short, and his eyes, while very kind, were very dim. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Makalaurë relaxed a little more. Nelyo and his parents must have sent people looking after all.
“You have? I didn’t mean to worry anyone, I’m really sorry…”
“Elrond.”
“I’m really sorry for the trouble Lord Elrond.” The man (Maia? Elf?) chuckled and stood again. He really was tall, although not as much as Nelyo.
“Just Elrond is fine, thank you. Let’s take you back now.” Makalaurë eagerly took the offered hand and set off with him through the forest.
“Did Nelyo seem mad? Or Atar? I really did just lose track of time,” Laurë explained himself to the stranger as they walked. “It’s just that we’re moving again and we have before but I was littler then so it didn’t really matter and I have friends here now. Nelyo got to stay in Tirion for a long time with his friends, so it’s not fair.” The stranger said nothing, but was clearly listening attentively from the way he looked down at Makalaurë. “Not even Nelyo understands,” Makalaurë told him despondently. “He says I’ll still have him, and even Lindësaitar is coming with us – that’s my music teacher, he’s teaching me the drum right now – what’s that?” They were approaching some kind of metal arch way, covered in vines and flanked by what looked like crumbling stone walls.
“We’re nearly there, no need to worry,” Lord Elrond soothed him. “You were telling me about your teacher?”
“Um, one of them – my singing teacher – Um. I don’t think we went the right way.” They were passing through the arch now, and it seemed even darker around them suddenly, like Telperion had just winked out of existance. What must have once been the foundations to a stone house lay around them, many of the crumbling walls still standing tall. Makalaurë stopped dead. “I don’t think I’ve seen any of this,” he said nervously. Lord Elrond dropped his hand in favor of rubbing his back comfortingly before urging him further inside. “Yes you have, Maglor – don’t you remember? I suppose it does look different now.”
“My name is Makalaurë,” Makalaurë reminded him, a little offense pushing back the nerves. The house seemed less and less broken down now, and he was being led through some kind of threshold into what looked like a well-maintained living space, though very small. A sleeping mat was stretched out next to a cheerfully crackling fire, and the warmth did much to settle the squirming feeling in his stomach. He was ushered towards the fire, and Lord Elrond stopped him in front of it to intently study him. He looked younger than Makalaurë had thought he was in the dark forest, maybe even only a little older than Nelyo.
“Are you scraped anywhere? Any bruises from walking through the dark?” Lord Elrond asked him, and Makalaurë shook his head.
“Is Nelyo going to meet us here?” He asked hopefully. The stranger smiled, although for some reason it looked more like a sad face than a happy one.
“He very well might. Why don’t you get some rest? You must be so tired from walking all this way.” Makalaurë hadn’t thought they walked far at all, but suddenly he did feel tired, and stifled a big yawn. Lord Elrond led him to the sleeping mat and lifted the blanket to tuck him in, humming the tune to a Sleeping Song already. It sounded just like one of the ones his singing teacher taught him, and any remaining anxieties melted from his mind as he wiggled a little against the blanket. Come to think of it, Lord Elrond kind of looked like her – maybe they were related? Did maia have siblings? They should have siblings, Nelyo was the best even when he was only listening to Atar and not Laurë.
Makalaurë’s eyes drifted closed, and he fell asleep to the soothing feeling of Elrond’s hand carding through his hair.
There was a strange light piercing through the windows when he woke up, and Makalaurë blinked dazedly at the puddle of white light on the wooden floor. There were proper windows too, filled with clean hard glass that showed a bright blue sky beyond.
Makalaurë got to his feet and peered out, only to gasp. There was a small white ball in the sky, like a giant star had gotten too close. It stung his eyes, so he squinted to try and see better.
“Don’t look at that.”
Makalaurë jumped backwards. There was a boy sitting cross legged on the other side of the room, his face propped up on one hand.
“Who are you? Where’s Lord Elrond? Is my brother here yet?” Makalaurë questioned him.
“My name is Elros.”
“I’m Makalaurë,” Makalaurë hesitated. The boy looked like he was his age, there was almost no elflings nearby his age! “My friends call me Laurë?” He offered uncertainly. The boy studied him with oddly serious eyes before finally showing him a small smile.
“Laurë, then. And Elrond’s making breakfast.”
“Is he your Atar?” Makalaurë asked, dropping to sit opposite his new friend. The two did look alike now that he was studying him, the same oddly lightless silver eyes and deep brown hair. Wait – “Did someone cut your ears off?!” Makalaurë asked, lurching forwards in horror. Indeed, Elros’ ears were tiny and rounded, more like a little grey squirrel’s ears than an elfling’s. Elros looked shocked for a moment, and then threw his head back and laughed long and hard.
“No and no!” He said finally when he was done. “This is just how my ears are, they work perfectly fine!”
“Oh,” Makalaurë said dubiously, and then “You still haven’t told me if Nelyo’s here. Or my parents.” The boy’s grin faded, and he brought his arm to rest back on his knee.
“...No. No they’re not here.”
“When will they be?”
“I-” Elros was cut off by the sound of Elrond entering the room bearing a tray of breakfast.
“Oh, Maglor! You’re awake!” Elrond shot him a bright grin, looking even younger than he had last night. “I brought some food for us.” He set one bowl of meat and rice before Makalaurë and one before himself.
“My name’s Makalaurë,” Makalaurë reminded him. “Is there any more? We need some for –”
“He can’t see me,” Elros interrupted him. Makalaurë blinked at him before looking back at Elrond who was indeed staring at him as if the other boy had never spoken. “Just act like I’m not here.”
“For? Are you wanting more food?” Elrond asked him, talking over Elros. Unsettled, Makalaurë muttered “no” and tucked into his plate. The food was delicious, although prepared in a way he wasn’t familiar with. Ammë usually woke them up with tea and light pastries and fruits to start the day. They ate in silence for a while before Makalaurë spoke again.
“When are my parents coming to get me?” Elrond didn’t look up from his meal, but a small furrow appeared between his eyebrows.
“...It will take them some time.” He said at last. “You can stay here with me for now. That’s only fair, surely?”
“Fair?” Makalaurë echoed back, more confused than ever, but Elrond only smiled at him and cleaned up their dishes. Makalaurë chased after him as he exited the little house. Outside, the harsh light caught him off guard once more, and he shaded his eyes with a hiss. Elrond had turned back to him immediately with an expression of concern.
“Oh dear, I didn’t think of that – too bright? Here, here.” He was ushered into the shade of a large tree while Elrond balanced the dishes in his other hand. “Let your eyes adjust at first, don’t rub at them.” Makalaurë dutifully dropped his hands to his side and blinked until the little spots that had been swimming in his vision disappeared.
“What is that?” He asked when his vision had steadied, craning his neck to look through the tree branches at the giant star again. Elrond’s hand firmly pushed his head back down.
“That’s the sun, silly. You can’t look right at it.” Elrond bustled off again with the dishes and Makalaurë hurried after him, a feeling of trepidation looming back over him. What would the sun do to him if he looked at it? Why did it make everything either too bright or too dark? Best to stick close to Elrond just in case, even if he wouldn’t look at it again.
Elrond was in a little wash house area, humming to himself as he scrubbed food stains out of the dishes. This room was also tidy, although oddly rusted and broken down in some areas.
“Why is this place falling apart? Where are we?” Makalaurë questioned, looking judgementally at where a vine was trying to strangle the water pipes.
“This was my childhood home. Well, one of them.” Elrond replied softly. There was something deeply sad in his tone, but that made sense. Laurë would also be sad if his house looked like this.
“Oh. Do you have a family?” Elrond didn’t respond for a long moment, although the sounds of scrubbing paused.
“I don’t.”
“That sounds lonely,” Makalaurë said, scrunching his face up. “I think I’d be really sad if I didn’t have Nelyo. I don’t really have many other friends.”
“Yes, you’re very lucky to have each other,” Elrond replied. The sounds of dishes being rinsed in running water filled the air before he spoke again. “Do you have any other brothers?”
This surprised Laurë. Usually, people knew who he was and everything about his family long before he ever met them. It was kind of nice that Elrond didn’t, actually - it made him feel a bit important.
“I just had a new brother! He’s too little to do anything with, though. He just kind of makes noises.”
“Babies do that,” Elrond acknowledged, and his voice was lighter now. “Only two brothers?”
“Two is plenty,” Laurë said defensively. “Ammë says me and the baby are all she can manage.”
“Is that so,” Elrond said, and his face was definitely amused now as he turned back to Makalaurë. “I can’t imagine you causing much trouble.”
“I don’t!” Elrond laughed at that and clapped him lightly on the shoulder on his way back out the door.
“Hmmm. Alright then, I believe you. Why don’t you help me with the garden?” Makalaurë followed after him, remembering to keep his eyes on the ground and let them adjust this time.
“I- I don’t really know anything about gardens. I can try?”
“Sing to the vegetables to get them to grow,” Elrond suggested, leading him to the side of the house. Indeed, there was a little garden, although choked almost beyond recognition with weeds. Maglor blinked down at it and then back up at Elrond, who was watching him expectantly.
“How?” The little furrow was back in Elrond’s forehead.
“You really don’t remember? You always liked- but nevermind, I can do it. Why don’t you just focus on weeding while I sing?” Feeling a little grumpy, Makalaurë dropped to his knees. He had barely begun ripping at the greenery when Elrond stopped him.
“Not like that! You have to pull up the roots, see? And that’s too close to the rosemary!”
“I don’t even know what rosemary is!” Makalaurë retorted, rocking back on his heels. He felt his cheeks coloring at how stupid he must sound – it didn’t help that Elrond was staring at him with something between frustration and baffled confusion.
“How can you not know rosemary? You cook with it all the time! I was hoping you could make that rosemary chicken tonight.” Makalaurë had never cooked a day in his life, and didn’t plan on starting soon.
“You want me to make dinner?” He asked incredulously.
“Please, Maglor, I haven’t had that since-”
“My name’s not Maglor!!” Makalaurë said heatedly, now genuinely angry. “And I’ve never made you anything! We just met!” He immediately regretted the outburst as silence fell. Elrond had drawn himself back, and his face fell into an alarming mask of placidity.
“...Just weed around the tomatoes, then.” He finally said stiffly, and returned back to his own task. They worked in silence, with Maglor feeling oddly tense, as if he had crossed some kind of line. But that was ridiculous, they really had just met! Why was Elrond being so weird?
He was allowed to return indoors to get out of the bright sun around midday. The room was the same as he had left it, except that Elros had apparently left. Makalaurë dropped into his bedroll with a huff. It wasn’t his fault he hadn’t cooked before! Nelyo wouldn’t let him near the oven.
“I’m not stupid,” He muttered out loud to himself, curling up tighter. He certainly felt like he was right now, like some spoiled little elfling who ran off and caused trouble and didn’t even know how to garden.
“He doesn’t mean anything by it,” Elros’ voice said sympathetically from above him. Makalaurë shot up - he hadn’t even heard the boy come in! But there he was, standing over the bedroll.
“He’s being mean,” Makalaurë responded childishly, crossing his arms. Elros sighed and patted him.
“It’s not on purpose. Go easy on him, he’s not… well, right now.”
“Is that why he can’t see you?”
“Other way around, kid.” Which made absolutely no sense, no matter how long Makalaurë thought on it.
“You’re a kid too!” he said anyway, because really there was an etiquette being violated here. Elros snorted again and ruffled his hair. Makalaurë immediately tried to bat his hand away – that was a Nelyo only privilege, thank you – but was instead pulled to his feet.
“Alright, that’s enough sulking – Elrond will be working for a while, we could play a game or something.” Maglor immediately perked up.
“We could play Great Journey!”
“...Okay? I don’t think I know that game.”
“It’s where we pretend we’re on the Great Journey to Aman! I want to be Haru – that is my grandfather, High King Finwë – because he was the best at the Great Journey. And besides he’s my Haru so I get to be him.”
“Sure. I guess I can be…” Elros trailed off uncertainly. “Remind me of some names, I wasn’t ever really a history person.”
“You can be Olwë,” Makalaurë told him generously. “I’ve met him before, he’s nice.”
Makalaurë played with Elros until Elrond returned with the third meal of the day as the light was dying. It was indeed some kind of herbally-dressed chicken, and after a few tentative niceties between them the tension from the morning dissipated.
“Maybe you could teach me to garden so I can help,” Makalaurë suggested, politely dabbing at his mouth with a handkerchief. Nelyo always did that at formal dinners, when Ammë made them wear lots of heavy fabrics and Atar asked him to sing for guests.
“Certainly. I’m sure you will have a knack for it,” Elrond replied easily enough, smiling and piling more food onto his plate. Makalaurë was significantly less sure, but he nodded anyway.
“Just while we wait for Atar and Nelyo,” he felt the need to add. Elrond hummed vaguely and then leaned over the table.
“Would you like to see something wonderful as a reward for working so hard today?” Makalaurë eagerly agreed, and Elrond led him to the window. The sun had followed them to look straight through the window, and Laurë immediately looked down at his shoes.
“Wait just a few moments. You can look at the sky, just don’t stare directly at the sun,” Elrond urged him.
Within a few minutes, the sky transformed from a deeper blue to pinks, purples, and oranges the likes of which he had never seen in the sky before. The sun looked bigger and darker – not angry, he hoped – and had landed far away from them. Makalaurë gaped.
“It’s touching the ground now!” He said, and then a little fearfully “Will it come over here?” Elrond laughed.
“No, it won’t. And it is still in the sky, it’s only moved beyond where we can see it for now. It will be back tomorrow.”
Evening crickets and birds were beginning to sing, and some other loud whirring insects that Laurë hadn’t heard in Lórien. With the sun gone, a giant shadow seemed to be swallowing the land, and unease stirred in Laurë’s heart. Without thinking, he edged into Elrond’s leg and took his hand.
“When will Nelyo come? I want Nelyo.” Elrond rubbed his back.
“Soon. Just give me a little while longer. Is the dark frightening you? Here, let’s go light a fire.” Elrond guided him to the hearth and soon the merry little fire was back and warming Makalaurë’s face and hands. He hadn’t even noticed them growing cold.
“Is it bedtime now?” he asked, feeling his eyes droop.
“Mmm. Let’s wash up first,” Elrond agreed. There was a little bowl of water for rinsing his face, and his new friend handed him a large sleep tunic to sleep in. It fell well past his feet, but Makalaurë was far too tired to make a fuss. He braided his hair back as quickly as possible and then watched as Elrond began sectioning his own dark hair over his shoulders. He smiled over at the younger elfling.
“Would you like to help me?”
“I can?” Laurë asked, amazed, and then immediately scuttled over. Nelyo would help Makalaurë with his hair, especially when he was little, but didn’t allow his little brother to so much as comb his own fiery locks. He would spend sometimes hours a day getting it just right before even leaving his room. Makalaurë made sure to be extra gentle, just to prove his brother wrong, as he combed his fingers through the long dark hair and began plaiting it back in a sleep braid. “You have really pretty hair.”
“Thank you my dear,” Elrond replied, but it was a beat late and his voice was oddly thick again. Really, his new friend was so weird sometimes. It was probably because he lived in this old house in the woods, he should find some other maia or elves so they could sing together and braid each other’s hair.
Makalaurë tied the braid off with a blue ribbon and immediately returned to his sleep mat to curl up under the covers. As he drifted off, he could hear Elrond bustling around the small room, putting out the fire and doing other small chores before settling down himself.
Laurë had a strange dream that night. Everything was dark, except he could still see the smoldering embers of the fire that had been put out. For some reason, the fire was crying.
“Elrond. Elrond listen to me,” a voice was saying to it. For a minute it sounded like Elros, but it was too grown-up and the quality was all wrong like it was whispering and shouting at the same time. “You need to put him back. This isn’t good for either of you, and you can’t keep up this kind of magic without consequences – Elrond, you need to put him back.”
The fire didn’t respond, but only continued crying softly. The voice said something else, something comforting hopefully, but Makalaurë was already dozing away into a different dream.
Breakfast was much the same fare as the previous day, although Makalaurë was quick to help with the dishes this time. Elros trailed after them, although once again Elrond gave no indication that he could hear or see the other boy. The extra pair of hands served to both make Elrond happy, doubly so when Makalaurë began humming as they worked.
“You should sing, I would love to hear it,” The maia encouraged, beaming at him.
“I don’t have any words for that song yet, it might not sound the best,” Makalaurë replied bashfully, but was pleased when Elrond insisted. Their after-breakfast task this time seemed to be making some traps and putting them out in the woods, and Makalaurë sang whatever words came to mind about the trees and the deer they saw and the weird bright star in the sky. Elrond pitched in occasionally, helping him cobble together awkward verses and find rhymes where he blanked. The maia looked even younger like this, laughing and playing song-games with Laurë; at times he thought that Elrond must not be that much older than him and Elros at all. In fact, as the day went on, Elrond could have been mistaken for Elros’ slightly older brother. In contrast, Elros was wearing the furrowed brow that had belonged to Elrond yesterday, and kept giving Makalaurë heavy looks that he couldn’t make sense of.
“Maglor, I can’t think of a rhyme for this one,” Elrond laughed to him, pointing at some pale lichen covering a nearby rock. “What do you think?”
“Hmmmm. We can just pretend it’s moss?” Makalaurë suggested. He had lots of rhymes for moss.
“Makalaurë.” Elros interjected suddenly, still frowning.
“Huh?”
“Your name is Makalaurë. Remind him.”
Makalaurë kind of didn’t want to, it just seemed rude at this point with how much Elrond had used the other name. Maybe Maglor was a nickname?
“Did you say something? Elrond asked him, and Makalaurë hesitated.
“Ummm. Not really it’s just that you used the wrong name again.”
“Ah! I’m sorry,” Elrond apologized immediately, but he looked troubled. “I suppose the name Maglor just feels more familiar to me. Would you mind if I called you that instead?”
Really there was no harm in it. And if it made his host more comfortable…
“Say no.” Elros said firmly. Makalaurë turned to glare at the other boy, he really was being pushy today. “Laurë, trust me on this and say no.”
“You could call me Laurë instead?” Makalaurë offered, overwhelmed. Elrond smiled at him tightly.
“Very well, I will try.” And he did, although ‘Laurë’ and ‘Maglor’ became interchangeable as the day wore on. Despite Elros’ persistent nagging, Makalaurë really couldn’t bring himself to care that much. It was just a nickname.
Elrond began teaching him how to garden as promised soon after lunch. It really turned out to not be so difficult, and the feeling of pulling an intruding weed out by the roots made a feeling of warm pride swell in Makalaurë’s chest. Before long, Elrond even trusted him to do it by himself while he went and fetched some water for dinner time. The dirt was cool and pleasant under his fingernails, and the hot sun on the grass and weeds smelled fresh and wonderful. Overall, Laurë was content with how the day had gone.
“You haven’t asked about your parents today yet,” Elros said, right over his shoulder. Makalaurë yelped in surprise, reflexively throwing the weed he was holding at the other boy. It missed, despite his proximity, and sailed right past his head.
“Stop doing that! And what?”
“You haven’t asked Elrond about your brother or your parents. You did it so often yesterday.”
“Well I can see that they’re not here,” Makalaurë huffed. It seemed stupid to bother Elrond about it further, they would show up when they showed up.
“Don’t you want to see them, though? Or your Nelyo? They must be worried about you,” Elros persisted. Maglor frowned as something in the back of his mind stirred restlessly. It felt annoying against the easy warmth he had felt all day.
“Elrond already said that they were coming soon,” He protested, but it was too late. His good mood evaporated.
“Ask at dinner.” Elros commanded him – actually commanded, like Atar did sometimes when he was stressed – and then vanished right in front of Makalaurë’s eyes. Laurë blinked, dumbfounded, at where his friend had been standing seconds before.
“Maglor! It’s time to wash up for dinner!” Elrond’s voice called from inside, and Makalaurë shook his head to clear it.
“Coming!”
The table was once again set with silverware and delicious smelling food when Makalaurë clambered inside. Elrond slid a glass of water across the table to him with a smile.
“Did you enjoy your time in the garden?”
“I did. It smelled really good and the dirt felt nice.”
“Goodness, I should have reminded you to wash up first! Look at your fingers!” Elrond laughed, and Makalaurë smiled but couldn’t quite bring himself to join in. Elrond kept up the one-sided chatter for a little while. Makalaurë picked at his food but couldn’t eat it – something was still tickling in the back of his head, and his stomach kept turning for some reason.
“Maglor, you’ve hardly touched your food. Is something wrong? I promise there is plenty to go around.” Elrond said finally, looking at him with concern.
“Not really. I just miss my family. What have you heard from them?” He asked. Elrond stared back blankly, and a bolt of horrible clarity suddenly struck Makalaurë. He set his fork down. “... You didn’t send anyone to tell them when you found me, did you.”
“Maglor-” Elrond began apprehensively but Makalaurë interrupted, a feeling of hysteria rising up in his throat. “My family doesn’t know I’m here. It’s been days-” He stood up suddenly from the table and ran to the door, leaving his bowl rattling on the table. Elrond lurched after him. “I’m going to be in so much trouble,” Makalaurë gasped out, yanking the door open. He stopped dead in the doorway, staring out beyond the little courtyard and into the black forest beyond. It was dark outside, and he knew it would get darker, and- “Take me back.”
“Laurë,” Elrond tried again, setting a careful hand on his shoulder, but Makalaurë whipped around to face him with wild eyes. “You have to take me back!! It’s too dark for me to walk back by myself, and I need – I want my Ammë, I want my Ammë, I want my Ammë–”
He was fully crying now, shaking with full body sobs. Elrond frantically patted his shoulders and when that didn’t work swept him up into a hug, singing something deep and soothing.
Makalaurë didn’t even realize he was falling asleep before everything went dark.
He woke before the sun did this time. He was curled up into a ball under his blanket, and despite not being able to fall asleep again he couldn’t bring himself to move a muscle.
Elrond came with breakfast, and tried to coax him up. He refused to move.
Elrond left and came back eventually with some new food, but Makalaurë just pressed his face to his knees and let himself drift. Elros had reappeared and was sitting in quiet vigil by his bed, which was kind of nice.
Elrond left again. Makalaurë still couldn’t move. Fear or sadness or just plain exhaustion rolled through him in waves, and eventually he fell back asleep.
Elrond woke him up a second time, attempting to offer him lunch in pleading tones.
The door closed again. Elrond was pacing outside.
“I want Nelyo,” Makalaurë told the floor, and curled up even tighter into his ball.
The door opened.
“Just tell me what’s wrong, please, please Laurë. I’ll fix it,” Elrond was saying over him, voice ragged. “I promise I’ll fix it, just talk to me.”
Makalaurë rolled over and faced him for the first time that day. Elrond’s face was streaked with tears and there were dark shadows under his eyes. He tried to muster up some concern for his friend, just a few quick words to ask if he was okay, but all he could manage was “I need my brother.”
Elrond hung his head for a long time before finally whispering ‘okay.’
He scooped Makalaurë up off the bed roll and began walking out of the house. Makalaurë blinked, trying to process this change, and craned his head to look back as Elrond passed through the little metal arch and into the woods. Elros was standing in the open doorway of the old house, growing tinier and tinier as Elrond walked. As Makalaurë watched, he lifted up one hand in farewell.
Elrond was navigating the woods with ease, although still sniffling occasionally. The light got dimmer and dimmer as they walked, and all of the sudden Elrond was putting him down gently at the base of a very familiar twisted tree.
“Okay.” Elrond said one more time, and wouldn’t meet Makalaurë’s eyes despite how he was crouched at eye-level. “Your family will be here before you know it.” There were tear-tracks down his cheeks, and Makalaurë reached a hand out to scrub one away. Elrond’s eyes, wide and filling with fresh tears, sprang up to meet his. Faced with his friend’s sadness like this, he suddenly felt the need to explain himself.
“It’s just that I need my Ammë and my Nelyo and my Atar,” is all he could manage, despite his best effort.
“I know.” Elrond said, voice choking once more. “I need my Atar too right now. I’m so, so sorry.” Makalaurë dove forwards to give him a hug, and Elrond wrapped him up tightly, shaking with sobs. The shaking stopped eventually, but Elrond kept holding him. “I’m going to sing you to sleep one more time, alright Laurë? Your family will be here when you wake up.” he said, and Makalaurë nodded against his chest.
Elrond sang a different song than he had last time, and although his voice was audibly fraying and a little cracked on some verses it was still lovely.
“Laurë!! Laurë, Laurë there you are!” Two big hands were shaking Makalaurë awake, and he grumbled a little before finally opening his eyes.
Nelyo’s frantic face occupied his entire field of vision. Makalaurë frowned, feeling oddly disoriented. There was an uncomfortable crick in his neck, and his arm felt cold and stiff when he tried to move it.
“Nelyo?” Immediately he was picked right off the ground and tucked into his brother’s chest. “Wha–” Oh. He had been sitting at the base of that twisty tree after he got lost – had he fallen asleep there? Where were Elrond and Elros?
“We have been looking everywhere, do you know how worried we were? Where have you been? Are you hurt?” Nelyo pulled back and began scanning his person thoroughly, patting him down for injuries.
“I think I was asleep?” Makalaurë tried, still dazed. “I thought there was a maia… Did you see a tall maia with dark hair? Maybe I dreamed it.” A strange growling noise came from the back of Nelyo’s throat and he was pulled suddenly back into a tight embrace.
“If some careless maia put you to sleep all this time by accident, I’ll do worse than sic Atar on them,” his brother said fiercely. “A week. Atar thought you had run away. Ammë has been frantic, we’ve been organizing search parties – little brother, you very well might never leave my sight again.”
“A week?” Makalaurë echoed as Nelyo stood to his full height, keeping his brother tightly bundled up in his arms. “I thought… I was having the strangest dream. I didn’t like it, though, I missed you.”
“I missed you too, baby,” Nelyo said.
They were back on the wide path already. It was a miracle how close to it he had been this whole time. Makalaurë snuggled closer to his older brother, one hand clutching at the front of his tunic.
Nelyo’s collar stained dark brown from the dirt packed under Makalaurë’s nails.