Maedhros had always been the doting big brother. Maglor huffed out a breath and leaned against his brother, seeking strength and comfort from a source that had been dead to him for a long time.

"You were dead, Nelyo. It was bad enough when Finno died, but when you did?" He raised his right hand, showing his brother just how badly scarred it was. "I can't really play the harp now. It is enough I can still wield my sword, I suppose."