Finding Fear by Erulisse

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He lived in a world of his own making, rarely shattered by others. It was his preference. 

When outside life intruded, he coped by formulating new compositions … thus the tone poems “Leaving” commemorating Nerdanel's departure, “Ringing Steel” the sound of the sword his father pulled against his uncle, and “Darkness” when the Trees were murdered, were inscribed and performed. Yet although all of these events had shaken him, none had instilled fear into him. 

Now, as he raised his sword alongside his brothers and spoke the words of his father's oath, he felt true fear for the first time. 

* * * * *

“Move along. Quickly.” He turned his horse tightly, the animal screaming as the bit cut into its lip. “Leave that wagon. There is no time to fix the wheel. Move! Move! The enemy comes. Save yourselves.” 

He rode the flank, attempting to protect stragglers as well as push the column for speed – ever more speed. Behind him he saw cresting waves of Morgoth's forces overwhelming the fortress home he had built. All was shattered and destroyed. 

As he passed Himring's portcullis, he breathed a sigh of relief. “I was afraid we wouldn't make it,” he whispered as he clutched Maedhros. 

* * * * *

“Don't hinder us, please...” But pushed, he did the necessary, leaving the bodies behind him. 

Clutching the Silmaril in his hand, it burned deeply through sinew and bone. He cried out with the pain, yet could not release it. The stones were rescued, the oath fulfilled. 

He looked unflinchingly while Maedhros cast himself into the flames. Nothing could touch him anymore, nothing pierce his mind's shields amidst this harvest of pain. 

He clambered over the sharp but slick shoreline rocks. “No more will this Jewel fall into the hands of lesser beings. Take it, Ulmo, and be damned with you.” 

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