A/N: Hi! Um...ok, so there are three obvious sections in this chapter (which mostly has to do with our good friend Maedhros...as the chapter title suggests). Just to clarify, the first part is when Maedhros is a baby (that's obvious), the second is when he would be about 9 or 10 in human years (Celegorm's 6 or 7), and the third is when he would be 17 or 18, I guess.

I know that I screwed up some names. I know that Maedhros wasn't called Maedhros when he was born. I sound like a sucky fanfic writer but... I don't care. When I'm done with this whole thing, I hope to go back and edit, possibly adding/changing names then. Sorry for my weirdness...

IMPORTANT NOTICE: Any Maedhros/Fingon romance is purely accidental. I prefer to think of them as just best, BEST friends, but it if you want to take it as slash...go ahead. I really don't care. Just know that it isn't intended to be that way and so there won't be anything romantic. Yeah.

Realy not my best chapter, but...have fun reading! Please comment/vote!

As I glance up to Feanor's eyes, blazing with joy, it only makes me sadder. Of course, we don't make eye contact; he isn't looking at me. He's looking at the little bundle in his arms, the bundle that's crying and gasping for air, getting used to the feeling of breathing, of being alive. He looks down, poking a fnger into the bundle, calming the baby's crying somewhat, and says softly, "My son. My precious son. You are the first, you know." Feanor looks up, his eyes becoming unfocused. "I wonder," he mutters to himself, "if you will take after Nerdanel or me." Glancing back at his son, he strokes his small head. "I can already see your hair is like your mother's, so fiery."

Taking a deep breath, I prepare to step out from behind the corner. It makes me feel odd to stalk Feanor the way I am. It's not right. I go to move, but it is almost as if my feet are glued to the ground.

I haven't had a proper conversation with my friend since the day of his wedding, and I really should talk to him now. Forcing myself to walk forward, I announce my presence. "Hello, Feanor."

He whips around, as if startled by the sound of my voice, and he clutches the bundle to him. I force a laugh. "Don't worry; I'm not going to take him." Though he lowers the child from his chest, Feanor still looks wary and tense.

"Luinil," he says, as if my name is new to him. "Why are you here? We haven't talked for years. What do you want?"

I move closer, my eyes flicking to the gorund. Taking in a deep breath, I tell myself, You need to do this. It's what you've been waiting to do. It must happen.

"Feanor," I begin, "I only want to express my regret for shutting you out. I am so sorry. Will you forgive me?" There is a moment of silence before he says softly, "Only if you tell me why. Why did you shut me out?"

"I..." I don't want to have to tell him, though part of me expected this. "I...didn't think you would give up on me so easily."

"Give up on you?" I glace up. His grey eyes, like the sky on a clouded day, seem to be filled with something between concern and confusion. "Luinil...I tried for over half my life. I would not call the giving up easily."

I laugh. "I understand. Everything is my fault. I am sorry. This won't happen again."

He nods sternly, and I copy him. There is a moment of awkward silence, broken only when I ask, "Where is Nerdanel?"

"Resting. Giving birth to a child must be hard work." There is a hint of humor in his voice, and I allow the ghost of a grin to touch my lips. I stare at the baby in his arms. The child's eyes are green like the grass and the trees, flecked with gold. They are reminiscent of Nerdanel's, like his hair, which reminds me of the firelight just as it's dying down to smoking embers.

"What is his name?" I ask gently.

"Maedhros," answers Feanor, a hint of pride creeping into his voice.

"Meadhros," I repeat, letting the name roll off my tongue. "That's a good name. A name worthy of a prince of the Noldor."

Holding out Maedhros to me, Fenaor asks, "Would you like to take him for a moment?" I smile. This time it's genuine. I seem to have regained his trust, and only by a simple apology. Perhaps he didn't give up on me. "Yes."

I take the baby into my arms, and everything is fine...for a few seconds. But then he starts to cry, really cry, like something's scared him. As quickly as possible, I hand him back to Feanor, trying to ignore the hurt feeling that's suddenly sprung up.

"I'm sorry," I mutter. "It must have been..." Not wanting to say it, I gesture to my face. Feanor touches my arm gently.

"Luinil...the face of a friend would scare no son of mine. It must have been something else."

I nod, but inside I know the truth. I am different. To fully appreciate me, one must know me first, and because of my secret...no one can know me. Of course, Feanor does seem to enjoy my company, but he doesn't know my deepest, darkest secret. He doesn't understand.

* * *

SOME YEARS LATER

Sighing, I set down the Eagle feather that I've been absently staring at for the past few minutes. Feanor is the only person who knows about the feather; he found it on me, and kept it for himself until the time seemed right to him to return it to me. Besides...if anyone knows I have a feather from one of the Eagles, I will probably get into trouble.

A soft knock on my door snaps me out of my thoughts. Slowly, I walk over to open it. When I do, my eyes fall on two Elflings. One has flaming red hair, and I recognize him immediately as Maedhros. The other...he's the fair haired one. There is only one son of Feanor with hair like that.

"Celegorm! Maedhros! What are you two doing here?"

They both look upset about something. I bend down so one hand is on each boy's shoulder.

"Is something the matter?"

Now I realize that Celegorm looks like he's going to burst into tears right there. I pull him into a hug, but for some reason, Maedhros looks at me suspiciously. His eyes seem to be saying, "Step away from my brother, or I will hurt you." So I make the hug brief, glaring at Maedhros the enitre time, over Celegorm's little shoulder. Yes, it's immature, but Maedhros and I don't really get along. Ever. I don't feel guilty.

Pulling back, I kneel down in front of Celegorm and grab Maedhros with one hand to draw him closer.

"Ouch!" he shouts as I yank his arm, accidentally digging my long nails into his tender forearm. He's exaggerating, but he succeeds in making Celegorm concerned.

"Maedhros, are you alright?" he asks. Maedhros only crosses his arms and intensifies his glaring. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I turn back to the younger brother.

"What happened?"

"Fingon won't play with us! He says I'm too little to play with them!"

I glance at Maedhros. Why is he here? He's very close in age with Fingon, and they love each other like brothers.. "And you?" I question, raising my eyebrows. He shrugs.

"I'm only here because of Celegorm. I want to support my brother."

There is something odd glinting in his eyes that I can't quite place; it makes me uneasy, so I stay on guard. Before either of us can do anything to prevent it, Celegorm bursts into tears. Unsure of exactly what to do, I pick him up and carry him into my room, so as not to disturb anyone who may be passing by. Maedhros follows me, a mug expression on his face. It makes me uncomfortable.

Setting the little blonde elf on my bed, I turn to my dresser, open a drawer and start to rifle through it. There has to be something in here that will cheer him up...

"Aha!" shouts a voice from behind me. I whip around to see Maedhros clutching my Eagle feather. Anger flares up inside of me. That's why he wanted to come here! Who knows what rumors he's heard from his friends?

"Maedhros," I begin, making an effort to keep my voice controlled, "put that down."

He only smirks, a light of triumph dancing in his eyes. "So it is true. You did take a feather from an Eagle."

"Put it down," I say through gritted teeth, ignoring Celegorm's crying. All of my attention is focused on Maedhros.

"Why would you do such a thing? Do they know?"

"Who?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

"My father, my aunts, my grandfather? They would be ashamed of someone who would do this...a monster who would take it."

Unable to control my anger any longer, I run at Maedhros, pinning him up against on of the walls. He's much younger than I, and I can't hurt him. Part of me wants to, but...

"Maedhros! You ignorant little...You have no idea what I've been through, no idea how the real world works! All you have ever known is your comfortable life with your family in Valinor. You've never known true pain! You've never had anyone you love die. You've never been alone. You have your brothers and Fingon. You don't understand!"

He looks genuinely scared and turns his head, squeezing his eyes shut. I let him go, and he sprints out of my room, glancing back over his shoulder and looking like a hunted animal. My pulse racing, I pick up the feather from where he dropped it on the ground. I put it back where it belongs, deciding that to find a safer place for it.

Suddenly, I am all too aware of Celegorm's sobbing. He's still sitting on my bed, crying harder than ever. I go to comfort him, to put my arm around his shoulder in the way a sister would, but he won't let me. In scaring his older brother, I seem to have frightened him too. He pushes my hand away, slipping off the edge of the bed to leave.

"Celegorm," I start, something like pity filling my heart, "come back. We can talk about Fingon, yes? I have an idea of how to get him to play with you! Do you want to know?"

The young Elf only shakes his head before leaving to find his brother.

* * *

A FEW YEARS LATER

"She's a demon! There's obviously something wrong with her! Just look..."

I hear them talking about me. I'm sitting on the soft, green grass, my back up againts a tree trunk. They are a few trees over standing almost too close together and pretending no to notice me. At least, Maedhros is pretending no to notice. Fingon knows I'm there, knows I am listening, and knows the right thing to do.

"Maedhros, I already told you: She's not a demon, and she has been very kind to me in the past. I don't think we should talk about it anymore, least of all here. Anyone could hear us!"

Quietly standing up, I decide I'm finished listening to their conversation. After all, it doesn't make me feel any better about myself. I step out from behind the tree. Maedhros's gaze locks with mine, and he smirks. Fingon spins around. My eyes shift to his. His are filled with so many emotions I'm not sure which one to pick out.

"Who are you talking about?" I ask. Maedhros grins as if he's been waiting forever to tell me, but Fingon catches his eye before saying quickly, "Just a girl we know. She's been rather rude to us lately, and we don't know what to do."

"Have you tried telling her what the problem is? She might have good reasons or at least intentions , though they might not be clear. Or, she might not have even noticed. I would just talk to her."

Maedhros rolls his eyes, clearly displeased with where the conversation is going, and turns to leave. Fingon stares at me. Disregarding the fact that he is Maedhros's friend, I start to rant, letting all of the words spill out to an Elf many, many years younger than I.

"I do not understand how anyone can stand to talk to him for more than a few seconds! He is selfish and spoiled, unable to comprehend that there are others in the world who have troubles worse than his?"

Fingon bows his head, the sun glinting off his thick, black hair and sighs. "I love Meadhros like a brother, Luinil. I don't feel right speaking about him behind his back. We have been friends since we could talk, and I do not want to betray his trust."

I cock my head to the side. I suppose one could say that Feanor and I used to have a relationship like that.

"You two are so close," I observe. "You really care for each other."

Fingon nods and clears his throat. Looking me straight in the eyes, he assures me that is true. "Indeed, we are close. I would do anything for Maedhros, and I like to think he would do anything for me."

I laugh grimly. "Be careful with your thoughts, son of Fingolfin. I would not trust him with anything."

"With all due respect, my lady, you are wrong in that. Maedhros is honorable and more worthy of trust than most." After this statement, he turns on his heel, his dark blue cloak swishing out behind him as he stalks away.

"Fingon," I call after him, taking a few steps in his direction. "Fingon, wait."

Stopping suddenly, he turns stiffly towards me, annoyance clear in his eyes. He may be annoyed with me, but I am not angry with him; he is only trying to protect his friend, an honorable quality.

"Fingon, I am sorry. It was rude to speak in such a way of him in front of you."

Fingon nods sternly, and it strikes me how much alike to his father he is. Personality aside, his face is almost an exact replica of Fingolfin's. I hope that someday he will be as kind and loving, noble and just, as Finwe's second son.

"I...I only want to understand Maedhros's hatred for me."

"He doesn't hate you, exactly," answers Fingon, stepping closer to me. "He hates not knowing everything about you. He hates the secrecy, the lies. He's desperate for something, anything, to tell him where you are from. All he can go on now is the way you look...and...his assumptions are not very kind, nor do I believe them to be very accurate."

"And what are they?" I ask, eager to know what Maedhros has said about me when I'm not around. Fingon frowns and questions, "Are you sure you want to know? You won't be hurt, no matter what they are?"

"Of course not, Fingon. I've learned to..." I pause searching for the right word. Hurt seems to come from everywhere, so I've learned to...

"To what?" he asks, coming even closer and narrowing his deep-blue eyes.

"To let it roll off of me. Even if it does hurt...it doesn't really bother me anymore."

"I see." But he doesn't seem to see. He looks rather concerned for me, as though I need some sort of mental help. I laugh inwardly. Everyone in this place probably assumes I need some sort of help. Fingon shakes his head.

"Maedhros thinks..." I nod, motioning for him to continue. When he does continue, when he does finish the sentence, I can't do anything but stare with wide eyes and try to hide my emotion so Fingon won't be able to see that Maedhros has come a little too close to the truth.

Long after Fingon has left me in silence, alone and brooding, his words still bounce around my head, a truth that I cannot escape and I cannot hide. I've always known that a day would come when someone would discover it, or at least deduce it from my behavior, or my appearance, or even maybe the feather. But I did not expect it to come this soon, and I did not expect that deduction to be made by the eldest son of the person I trusted most in the world. Fingon's words continue to plague me all through the night, preventing me from sleeping properly.

"Maedhros thinks you have something to do with Melkor, the fallen Vala."