1. Losgar: Amrod and Amras
Clearly I am not the Professor. I don't own any of this, especially the first bit which is taken directly from the Silmarillion.
This is the first of four planned chapters. Let me know what you think and if I should continue!
Erestor has encountered not one, but four sets of twins while serving the Noldor: The sons of Fëanor, Dior, Eärendil, and Elrond.
Can it be, that the Greek grammarians invented their dual number for the particular benefit of twins?
"None and none! What I have left behind I count now no loss; needless baggage on the road it has proved. Let those that cursed my name, curse me still, and whine their way back to the cages of the Valar! Let the ships burn!"
With those fell words, Fëanor was the first to cast his torch upon the swan ships of the Teleri. Stirred in their hearts by the power of their king's words, others had followed suit. Arrows soared through the air like shooting stars, brilliant against the dark skies, imbedding themselves in the white wood and sails.
The ships took the flame like kindling in the winds of Belegaer, and the salted air was soon filled with crackling flame and the mingled sounds of laughter and song. Billowing columns of smoke curled around the masts like serpents, so thick that for days to come Erestor could smell it in his hair and clothing. Embers floated down among the host of Elves.
Their revelry was short-lived. A terrible cry pierced the night, and Erestor swung round suddenly to see the hunched body of Amrod, knee-deep in the lapping water, trying to scramble to the nearest ship, but being pulled back by Curufin. The rest of the sons stood on the shore, Maedhros a bit apart from the others. They looked at their father, pleading and confused. Four sons. Erestor only counted four and sudden understanding hit him like a blow to the chest.
The first of the Noldor host to perish on the shores of Middle Earth.
But Fëanor said nothing and stood still, terrible and silent while the wall of flame reflected in his silver armor. The fey madness that had fallen upon him on the shores of Losgar had moved his hand too quickly, so devouring was his contempt for the Valar and the house of Fingolfin. Fëanor's flame burned so brightly that it had consumed his own son.
Umbarto, The Fated, he had been called. In later years, Erestor would think that Amras had been the most fortunate of the seven sons of Fëanor.
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