Work Text:
He heard the song. The song - words repeated back to him in a voice he knew and had held dear for so many years.
Maitimo was here somewhere.
But where?
Findekano scoured the peaks, the sun hitting his eyes as it barrelled down shear drops and at times blinding him. Maitimo was here. Somewhere.
He sang the next note and heard Maitimo’s faint voice repeat it back. But the tone bounced across the stone precipices in an echo Makalaure would have loved.
Somewhere. Somewhere upon these cliffs.
But where?
The sun hit him once more and he jerked his head to the side, darting back into the protective shadow of the cliffs. When the red dots dissipated from his vision, his eyes caught it.
It.
The star.
Raised high above the ground by Morgoth’s servants. Perhaps in vicious mockery of what it stood for, bloodied and threadworn, but still stubbornly clinging to prevalence.
Feanaro’s symbol blinked innocently in the wind high above Findekano. And if he followed the star down and down a bit more…
There was Maitimo, hung on the cliffside below his family’s sign and blowing gently just as the flag above him.
And blessedly, blessedly alive.