[Completed Story] No Love Lost

[Briamoth 41]

Preface: Briamoth and Sirithsir and How They Came to Be

Mablung taught him the skills of hunting, tracking, and archery. They spent countless hours in the forests together tracking and hunting animals and practicing their archery skills. Briamoth was also very skilled with a blade, which he was taught how to use by his father as well.

Ánië, who spent most of her time reading histories, taught Briamoth to both read and write. Later, he was taught a more complex vocabulary from both his mother and his own love for books.

His parents loved Briamoth greatly and he knew this. They spent most of their time together sharing stories or just sitting by a fire. But, for some reason or another, Briamoth decided to leave. He left no note, no warning, not even a good bye. He just left.

Saddened by the sudden quick loss of their child, Mablung and Ánië spent most of their time in silence for the next few months. They had given up hope until a hooded man appeared at their door, knocking in the middle of the night. They both met the man at the door and were surprised by his great height.

"Your son is safe." That's all he said and he turned around and left as quick as he had appeared.

Elated by the news, Mablung and Ánië embraced and began crying tears of joy. They had a renewed since of hope knowing they had raised their son to be a strong and fearless Elf who could survive on his own. A few years had passed and Ánië gave birth to another son. Upon seeing his son Mablung was very disappointed and skeptical of the child. He had brown hair, like his mother, but red eyes. Mablung, knowing what this meant, resented his son more than his wife. He never loved Sirithsir as much as he had Briamoth. He never taught him how to hunt or use a bow. His mother attempted to teach him the Language but eventually gave up.

Sirithsir, like his brother, left his parents. He hated his brother for the pain he had caused both him and his parents. He searched for his brother and asked around for Elven settlements. He eventually learned that his brother had found a city called Laurelin in a princedom called Malinor. Sirithsir decided he must find Laurelin and heal the pain that his brother had caused their family.

Chapter 1: Sirithsir's Hunt

Sirithsir walked into the gates of Laurelin. Even for someone who did not appreciate beauty in nature, he was fascinated by the architecture of the city. He shook his head as to not be distracted from his goal. He lurked around the city for months and months, not even getting a trace of his brother. Finally, he decided he must ask someone if they had seen his brother.

He approached a blonde male Elf with blue eyes and asked him if he knew Briamoth. The Elf pondered the question for a bit, trying to remember and ultimately decided he did not know anyone by the name Briamoth. Sirithsir, who was beyond furious at his futile efforts in finding his brother, cursed the man and struck him with his fist. The man staggered back and walked away into the trees of Laurelin, rubbing his face as he begin to run to his home.

Sirithsir walked to the market where he knew he could find someone who knew what was going on in Aegis. He tried to hide in the shadows as to not be seen, which worked out very well. He overheard the Elves talking about a New Land that they would all be moving to due to the increased power by the Undead. Then it clicked, his brother would be going because he hated fighting. It was perfect. He would kill his brother as soon as they got to the New Land.

"Leave everything but the clothes on your backs!"

The words rang out through the docks and Briamoth was saddened at the loss of everything he had put his life into. His bow. His armor. His farming tools. His friends. Ladies he had loved. He shook his head and threw away the bow he and his father had made when he was younger. A solemn look came across his face as he thought of his parents. He had just left them. No warning or anything. A tear ran down his face and he wiped it away and composed himself as he boarded the ship.

Sirithsir approached the ship, fully armored.

"Sir, you're going to have to leave your weapons behind."

Disgusted with the process, Sirithsir tossed his weapons into the water. "Happy?"

The Elf merely gazed at Sirithsir with a menacing look.

Sirithsir found Briamoth and made sure to keep his eyes on him. Soon enough, he would be gone and his parents' grief would be avenged. The trip took what seemed like ages to Sirithsir. So close, yet so far from killing his brother. But, it would be done, soon enough. The sea air made Sirithsir a bit queasy but he quickly adjusted to it and a few days, land was quickly in sight.

Everyone started chattering again as they were excited to finally reach the New Land. They had finally made it.

The ship quickly reached the dock and everyone gathered around the gangplank that was about to be lowered.

"Back up! Be patient!" The same Elf who had spoken to Sirithsir seemed to love bossing others around. He finally let them all pass and Briamoth was one of the first Elves off of the ship.

Sirithsir saw a blonde head veer off to the left and he followed it, knowing it was his brother. After passing over a hill, Sirithsir quickly ran up behind the Elf and pressed his blade into his back.

"How does it feel to be stabbed in the back, like you did to us so many years ago?"

The body went limp and Sirithsir threw it into the sea, knowing he had finally finished his goal. Sirithsir was already walking away when the body faced up towards the sky and the blue eyes gleamed in the sunlight.

Chapter 2: Briamoth's Long Rest

Briamoth had separated himself from the group and made it to the shore. His gracefulness failed him and he stepped on a rock and fell hard to the ground. His head banged against a large boulder and he crumpled unconscious on the beach. No one knew he had fallen and the only one who knew he was going to be there thought he was dead. And, in fact, he might as well have been. No one knew he was there, so no one would be there to care for him.

A few days passed and no one found Briamoth's body, nor the body of the Elf, whom Sirithsir had killed. Flies had begun to surround Briamoth's unclean body and the vultures circled above him. Days kept passing and still no one had found them. Until one day, a female Elf, who happened to be travelling along the shoreline, found Briamoth's body and knelt next to him and lifted his head from the sand.

"Oh dear. What's happened to you?" the female exclaimed hysterically.

The Elf's friend, who was also travelling with her, heard her cry and ran towards it. She also stared in amazement at the sight of the seemingly lifeless body.

"Is he okay?" she asked her friend.

"He's still breathing, but he won't last for long. We need to get him back to the house."

The two female Elves picked up Briamoth's body and carried him to their house which was only a a short distance away. They laid him down on the bed and watched over him for a few moments.

"He needs to eat something or he'll die," said the first female, named Tári.

"I'll fix him some soup, so that it will be easier to feed him," replied her friend, Lúthien.

And this is how they cared for him. For years and years. Decades past and Briamoth never awoke. The two Elves were out scavenging for food when they returned, Briamoth was gone. They were both puzzled and wondered where the Elf could have went. They went back outside and looked for him, but he was nowhere to be found.

Chapter 3: One Question is Answered

Briamoth limped his way across the beautiful landscape of the New World, having no idea how long he had been unconscious. He stumbled upon a building which he figured was a temple of sorts. He recognized none of the faces and they all stared blankly at him. I guess I do look a bit shabby. Oh well, can't change that now. He eventually found the Elven capital, Normandor. He searched for someone who studied the History to know when the Great Migration, as he called it, had occurred. He found the High Princess who was called Sythra Duskwind, who claimed she had been apart of the Migration.

"Pardon me, do you know when we all moved to the New Land?" Briamoth asked.

"It was about five decades ago. It seems like yesterday," she replied.

"Five decades?" he exclaimed.

The next part of the conversation was unremembered by Briamoth as he was lost in the thoughts of the ones he had loved, who may or may not have made it to the New Land, they call Asulon. Did they have someone to hold their hand as they passed or did they go alone, like he almost did so many years ago? He began to cry as the emotions he once suppressed overtook his entire body and he began to shake with agony. He thought of his parents that he had left so many years ago and his sobbing increased into a full-blown breakdown. Briamoth left the High Princess and found a spot in the woods to sleep for the night. He had so many questions about the past 50 years and none of them had been answered.

Chapter 4: The Hooded Man

Briamoth decided he must first find whoever had cared for him during his comatose state. He asked around if anyone knew of some Elves that lived near the shore, where the docks were. Many simply ignored him, while others had no idea. That was, until a hooded man approached Briamoth and spoke to him.

"I know those whom you seek," the voice whispered.

"Can you take me to them?" Briamoth replied.

"Of course," the stranger answered, a slight grin forming under his hood.

Briamoth followed the man for an hour or so and they reached the edge of the landscape and they overlooked a small beach with a few huts near the sea. The sea air reminded Briamoth of his long journey to Asulon and he quickly remembered that he had fallen shortly after getting off the ship from Aegis. Briamoth gave the man his thanks and headed down the path to the beach. He could make out Elven women before him who hurried about performing various duties, such as cooking, repairing the huts, fishing, and some had just returned from a hunt. Briamoth soon reached the beach and approached one of the women.

"Do you know of anyone who took care of me? I've been unconscious for many moons."

"Why, of course! You were all the talk in our little village after you arrived. You were under the care of Tári and Lúthien. They live in that hut over there," the Elf replied pointing to a distinctly larger hut.

Briamoth knocked on the makeshift door of the hut and a smooth and caring voice answered, "Come in!"

Briamoth stepped in the hut and looked around him. It wasn't much to talk about, but it was definitely more than what he had. He looked up and saw the dark haired Elf preparing an evening meal. She was one of the most beautiful things Briamoth had ever seen and he stood there without answering her back. She then looked up and immediately recognized him as the man she had saved all those years ago.

"No. It can't be! You're not? But... you disappeared..."

"Yes, it's me. I am the same Elf you helped 50 years ago after I fell down the cliff face shortly after arriving in Asulon," Briamoth replied in a convincing tone.

"Lúthien! You're going to want to see this!"

Lúthien, an equally beautiful blonde Elf, sprang into the room, "What is it, Tári?"

She quickly glanced at Briamoth and recognized him as well. She had never told anyone, but she had grown quite fond of the Elf as she had taken care of him. She even dreamed of him still to this day and a smile replaced the shocked look on her face.

"I'm Briamoth. I came to thank you for the care you gave me for many years. Were it not for you, I would not be here, standing before you."

Lúthien, overcome with emotions, ran towards Briamoth and embraced him as a friend because, to her, he was a friend. She had known him for decades and he never knew it. She secretly loved him the entire time and never told anyone. Briamoth, who was quite startled, awkwardly returned the hug and shot a questioning look towards Tári. She shrugged because she had no idea what was going on either. Dismissing the awkwardness of the embrace, Briamoth realized how long it had been since someone had cared this much about him and his eyes began to water.

"Welcome to our home, Briamoth. You are welcome to stay as long you'd like. Granted, you will have to help out around the village."

"Of course," Briamoth agreed, as he let go of Lúthien, "it's the least I can do after everything you have given me."

Lúthien looked up at Briamoth and gave him a warming smile. Briamoth returned the gesture and gazed out of the window and saw the hooded man off in the distance. Red eyes met the gaze of Briamoth and his smile quickly faded. He knew not who the man was, but he knew he did not care for him one bit.

Chapter 5: A Plan is Formed

Sirithsir continued to stare at his brother. He knew Briamoth had seen him and he knew his brother was afraid. He knew Briamoth did not recognize him, but it didn't matter. The fear was there regardless of who he was. Sirithsir had done it perfectly. He had gained Briamoth's trust at first by taking him to the village. He had led Briamoth to a place where he would feel comfortable and nearly at home. Then, just as he was getting used to the idea of living with the Elves, he took away the security of the village. He showed that he knew more about Briamoth than even Briamoth did. He knew the things he had done. He knew what got under Briamoth's skin and he would use it against him.

The person he had killed after the Great Migration had been the talk of the Elven community, even after many decades. It was rare for someone in the Elven lands to be killed, especially someone as peaceful as Tuor, a new Elf in Malinor. He had never caused any trouble and his murder was a tragedy. Well, to most that is. Sirithsir didn't care if it was his brother or not; he was hell-bent on killing his brother and anyone who got in the way was just collateral damage.

Sirithsir broke the visual lock and walked down the edge of the beach. He returned to the small hut on the beach he had made, just a few miles from the village. It was the optimal position to keep a tab on Briamoth's whereabouts and his patterns and schedule. After a few weeks, he would know the best place and time to attack Briamoth. The observing got a little boring, but Sirithsir was eager to do anything to kill his brother.

One week passed. Two weeks passed. Three weeks passed. Finally, he knew when he would attack his brother. Every evening, the village met together to give updates on the comings and goings of the village and surrounding areas. Briamoth, who didn't have any interest in the matters, would wade out into the ocean. Unarmed. And off-guard. Tomorrow would be the day. Tomorrow, Briamoth would die.

Chapter 6: A Message is Fired

Briamoth stood there in the hut where he had lived for a few weeks now. In the time he had been there, all he could think about was the man he had seen. The same man had helped him find the village where he was living. He couldn't figure it out. The man hadn't attempted to hurt him because he easily could have killed him when they had first met.

"Are you coming to the meeting?" Lúthien's soft voice called out.

"No, not today," he replied. He had said the same thing every time she had asked.

Lúthien let out a short sigh. "You never come to the meetings. Don't you want to meet everyone here? They've all been eager to meet you after you arrived."

"Maybe later," Briamoth answered in a tone he knew would end the conversation.

"Okay, I'll be back in a few hours."

Briamoth contemplated going, but he wasn't quite ready to become a member of the village. He wanted to figure out who this man was. He felt that as long as he was in the village, everyone was in danger, especially Lúthien and Tári. The man knew where he lived, and most likely, he knew who he lived with. Fearing for their safety, Briamoth grabbed a bow, quiver of arrows, and a small dagger, just in case the man approached him tonight. He walked out of the door and saw the villagers all turn to look at him, eagerness spread across their faces. He lowered his and walked towards the beach. He needed some time to think. The ocean provided a relaxing place for Briamoth to focus on whatever he needed to, and at this moment in time, that was the safety of the village. As he neared the ocean, he decided it would be best for him to put his bow and quiver on the dry part of the sand, so the wood wouldn't be damaged. As he did so, he noticed a small figure on the horizon to this left. He was way off in the distance, but he appeared to be headed towards Briamoth.

Briamoth pretended to not notice him and laid his bow down, but kept the dagger on his side, just in case. Briamoth waded out into the water. The refreshing water felt soothing against his legs. He went in until the water was at his thighs. He closed his eyes and inhaled the crisp, ocean air. The smell of salt met his nose and it reminded of the Laurelin docks. Everything that had happened in Aegis came back to him: Friends. War. Death. Disaster. He realized he would not let someone take away the friends he had made here. Not today, not ever.

He retreated out of the water and grabbed his weapons. He noticed that the man had gotten extremely close now and it was obvious he was coming towards the village. Briamoth notched an arrow. How long it had been since he had done this, but it still felt natural. He aimed just to the left of the man. Twang! He let go of the arrow and watched it sail across the evening sky. The arrow landed a foot to the man's right and he jumped in surprise. Briamoth's warning shot had done its job. He had let the man know, if he meant harm to the village, he would have to go through him.

Chapter 7: And So It Begins...

The shot had seemingly come from nowhere. Sirithsir was equally shocked at the fact that an arrow had been fired at him and the speed and accuracy Briamoth still had after all of this time. He'd figured wrong that Briamoth had lost his touch when it came to combat, but the skills of the bow would never leave Briamoth. They were ingrained into his consciousness, just like speech and movement. There was no turning back now, though. His plan to sneak up on Briamoth had been foiled by none other than Briamoth's self-awareness and paranoia. Sirithsir threw back his hood to reveal his scarred face and brown hair. He took out his bow and fired a similar shot to the one his brother had sent towards him. If Briamoth wants a fight, I'm going to have to just give it to him.

Briamoth saw the arrow coming and barely lunged away from it. He tucked and rolled as to maintain a fighting position. He grabbed his dagger from the sheath on his hip and drew it out and began to run towards the man. The man slung his bow on his back and withdrew his sword and readied himself for Briamoth's impending attack. Briamoth swung at the man, but Sirithsir dodged it quite easily and brought his own sword to Briamoth's ankle and sliced a gash just above the his heel, directly on his tendon. Briamoth collapsed and yelled in pain. He rolled in the sand, grasping his ankle.

Sirithsir loomed over his brother and gave a look of disappointment.

"Is that the best you can do, brother?"

"Wha... what?" Briamoth replied with a confused look on his face.

"Oh! That's right! You don't know who I am. Well, let me introduce myself. I am Sirithsir, bastard child of Ánië, shame of Mablung, and as it turns out, your brother. Is everything clearer now, Briamoth?"

"But, I thought my parents were dead?"

"Of course they are now, they couldn't make the Migration, so they stayed in Aegis. How do you feel now that you know how their lives ended after you abandoned them?"

Every day, Briamoth had thought about them. Them, all of his friends he had lost. All of them. Sadness overwhelmed him, but it was quickly replaced by hate and anger towards this man who claimed to be his brother.

"You're no brother of mine."

"Well, yes, you are correct. Half-brother is the correct term, but after today, it won't matter because you'll be dead."

Briamoth attempted to rise, but the damage had been done. His tendon was severed and he couldn't stand on it with his full weight. He put his weight on his left foot, grabbed his dagger, which actually was a short sword.

"You think you can kill me with that ankle and that sorry excuse for a weapon? You're dumber than I thought. You don't stand a chance."

"You know, I've thought the same thing to myself before. When I left my parents, when I arrived in Laurelin, when I fought the Undead, when I came to this land called Asulon. And, you know what? In theory, chances are a big deal, but in reality, chances don't mean a damn. So, let's finish this, for good, this time."

"Oh, so you do have a fighting side? Good to know."

Briamoth spun his dagger in his hand and lunged towards Sirithsir. A quick parry deflected the blow and Sirithsir was quick to return to his own strike. Another parry was awaiting his blade. The brothers returned blow after blow, each parrying the other's attacks. It seemed they were the same person, fighting with the same movement and strategy. The clanging of metal rang across the beach, but no one in the village was able to hear it.

Briamoth thought about Lúthien and how much she meant to him and how much she had cared for him. He knew if he was defeated, his brother would immediately attack the village. Something filled Briamoth: a deadly combination of rage, hate, defensiveness, and love. He became more aggressive and quick with his attacks, sending blow after blow towards Sirithsir and the fight was quickly becoming Briamoth's to lose.

Chapter 8: No Love Lost

Sirithsir staggered back as the blows kept coming from Briamoth. He had never expected such a fight from his brother, especially not one with an injury such as this. Briamoth was pushing him back towards the ocean, so he would eventually have to regain some leverage, but the attacks were too fierce. This is it. I'm done. I tried, Mother, I tried. Sirithsir felt as though he had failed his parents, even though they had never asked anything from him.

Briamoth had been formulating his plan for a few moments now. There was a deep hole just a foot or so behind Sirithsir. If he could push him back into it, his brother would trip and Briamoth could easily defeat him from that position. They got closer and closer to the hole and Briamoth continued to push on. Two more attacks and it would be over. His ankle was beginning to hurt once more, but the adrenaline kept him going. The last blow sent Sirithsir's foot into the hole and a loud snap rang out on the beach. Sirithsir screamed in pain and dropped his sword. He held his snapped leg in place as best as he could and he gritted his teeth, both in the pain of injury and the pain of defeat. He looked up at his brother knowing what was coming next.

"I'm sorry it has to end this way. If I had been there, maybe things would have been different, but I can't allow someone so vile and evil to continue living," Briamoth's voice broke the silence on the beach.

Sirithsir just nodded and braced himself for what would come next.

Briamoth's mind began to race with thoughts. This would be the first time he had actually killed someone. He didn't know how it felt, but it had to be done. He picked up Sirithsir's sword and placed it against his brother's neck. The slice was a swift and easy motion. Sirithsir's head fell to the sand and rolled towards the ocean. Briamoth picked up the body and head and walked deep into the ocean. He kept going until he had to swim to stay above the surface. He sang a song to send his brother off into the ocean:

At starfade a time comes

When you see one brilliant star left behind

When the starry host has departed.

The star fades, the world does not wait.

The brilliant star is fading

Now, it departs the heavens

Now, I will depart the world

Holding a leaf in my hand.

The song usually held some meaning to Briamoth. He had sang it many times when his friends had died, but today, there was no meaning behind those words. In the few minutes he had known his brother, he had grown to hate him. There wasn't any love between them, like there should be between brothers, but he knew, he must sing this song because it was customary of his family during death. He let the ocean take his brother and felt safe knowing the village was protected. He swam back to the shore and retrieved his weapons and began his way back to the house where he lived.

Chapter 9: Love Is Found

The meeting had just adjourned and the villagers had no idea what could have happened to them. He quickly caught Lúthien's eye and she smiled at him. He returned what smile he could force out, and she made her way towards him.

"Any news?" he asked, with genuine interest.

"No, it's always the same thing: mostly talking and not a lot of reporting," she replied in an exhausted voice.

They reached the home. Tári hadn't arrived yet. For the first time since he had arrived, Briamoth felt safe and he felt like he could be a regular Elf again. He brushed Lúthien's hair from her face. She was so beautiful. To him, she was perfect. She smiled at him, her eyes gleaming.

"Lúthien, I need to tell you something."

"What is it?"

"That man who helped me find you. He was my brother. Half-brother, actually."

"Really?! That's fantastic!" she exclaimed, excited to meet new people once again.

"No, it actually isn't. He came here to attack and kill me, but while you were in the meeting, I reversed the role and killed him. I did the right thing, didn't I? I was just looking to protect everyone here."

"Of course. You have nothing to worry about. I won't tell anyone," Lúthien replied in a caring voice.

"Also, there's one other thing too."

"Yes?"

Briamoth stammered for a few minutes. He'd never told anyone this before, so he didn't really know how. He laughed a little, trying to break the silence. Then, when he couldn't find the words, he did the next best thing; he reached towards Lúthien and held her face in his hands and he kissed her. He broke the kiss and she stared at him blankly. It was exactly what she had wanted to say, but she wasn't the romantically aggressive type either. She hugged him and Briamoth rested his head on hers. He shifted his weight and soon realized his mistake. His leg gave out and they both nearly fell to the floor.

"What's wrong?!"Lúthien's usually calm voice had turned into an ear piercing shriek.

"I'm fine. It's just my ankle is cut."

"Oh, I can fix that in no time," she smiled down at him. "First, you need to get in bed and I'll take a look at it."

Lúthien helped Briamoth to his bed and she took a look at the nasty cut. It had severed the tendon on the back of his ankle. There was no way of healing him naturally, so she decided to call upon what little magic she knew. She would have to do this while everyone was asleep, as to not reveal too much.

"Lúthien, I forgot to tell you something else before," Briamoth managed to say as he was worn out from the day's events.

"What was that?" she asked with a smile, knowing what was coming.

"I love you. A lot."

"I love you too, Briamoth," she nearly yelled. Finally, after all of this time, she could say it and not feel awkward.

Her heart was beating faster than normal and she knew her life was on the rise now. She turned to say something to Briamoth, but was met with a sleeping face. He looked calm and relaxed for the first time in a long time. She reached around to his leg and looked at the cut once again. She would try and fix it now before Tári would arrive. She smiled to herself at the fact that she had met him by caring for him and she had finally professed her love for him, as she was caring for him again. Hopefully, from now on, he'll stay out of trouble. She chuckled to herself and began her work at repairing the one she loved.

THE END

Mablung and Ánië were two Elves deemed beautiful and elegant by the standards of men, though they cared not what the race of men thought. They were High Elves and they deemed themselves far superior to the Human race, not only physically but mentally and spiritually. They had moved off into the wilderness when they were young, relatively speaking, right after they had been married. They were greatly in love and longed to have many children. Not long after moving, Ánië gave birth to their first child, Briamoth. He looked exactly like his father. Blonde hair, green eyes, fair skin. Yes, he would grow up to be an elegant and respected Elf, much like his father had been in their old town.

[Briamoth 41]

[OOC] Added a new section. I hope you enjoy it. [/OOC]

[Angel~ 34]

Lol Im awaiting the nice story to go on ^-^ XP

[Briamoth 41]

[OOC] I have finished my story finally! Feel free to comment below what you liked/didn't like about it. [/OOC]