9. Chapter 8
A.N: Feedback is greatly appreciated!
The rain had changed to a dreary mist by morning. It mirrored the overall feeling within the cave. Maglor seemed cross and Lindir figured it was his fault. He nearly drowns, gives a crazy story and then sleeps on the older elf’s lap. Maglor could not have been comfortable. What Lindir did not understand was why the dark elf did not just lay him on his bedroll. Nonetheless, out of respect, and a bit of guilt, the minstrel gave the older elf all the space he needed.
They ate in silence and when Maglor headed to the jetty, he called over his shoulder, “There will be no lesson today.” He continued, without looking back.
A part of Lindir’s heart ached. He really looked forward to his afternoons with Maglor. He liked to think that he brightened Maglor’s day as well. But whom was he kidding! It would take more than a little minstrel to erase the millennia of pain the other elf suffered. Maybe he should leave. He certainly did not want to add to Maglor’s sorrow. As Lindir cleaned up after the morning meal he, sadly, made a decision; he would leave tomorrow and give the elf his privacy back. Lindir found it difficult to see through the tears; he did not want to leave and he could not imagine that Maglor really wanted to be alone. However, if Maglor wanted him gone, so be it.
Maglor did not return to camp for the midday meal and as much as Lindir wished to take him food, he did not. Instead, he spent the day wrapped in his cloak, wandering the shoreline…making sure to stay clear of the water.
The dark elf brooded on the jetty all day. He hoped that his behavior would drive the young minstrel away. Tears dripped on the wet stones as he kneeled in the rain. He cradled his scarred hand close to his body. He felt bad for treating the young one this way, but it was for best. He would miss the company; he liked sharing music with Lindir. The elf was gifted in voice and harp. With a bit of help from Maglor, he also began to master the flute and whistle. For as young as the silver elf was, he had a great knowledge of music, tales and lore. He absorbed every bit of information Maglor shared with unparalleled enthusiasm. Yes, pushing him away hurt, but it was for the best. Perhaps, if he told himself that often enough, he would believe it.
The sky darkened as the day wore on. Maglor sobbed as he felt his heart break. Now that he had had company, he began to remember what it was like to have family, friends and…lovers. The pain was unbearable, he thought that the Valar could not punish him more than they had, but he was wrong. Sending him this light and then taking it way caused his soul to cry out in pain.
A mist crept off the sea, covering everything in a gray shroud. Lindir returned to the cave and began setting out supper, although it seemed Maglor would not return. He could hardly see the elf on the end of the jetty so thick was the fog. If the lone elf did not return soon, this time Lindir would fetch him.
Maglor wept, as he had so often for his crimes; regret and guilt eating him from within. He did not notice the deep mist until he felt a presence and looked up. He could see neither seashore nor person. He felt more than heard a soft humming. At first he thought it was Lindir, but the tonality was all wrong. The mist darkened as it continued to swirl about the devastated elf.
‘Maglor…’ The elf raised his head but could see nothing in the grayness. ‘Think you us blind and without compassion?’ A frightened Maglor attempted to stand, only to be held in place by…by a delicate hand.
As the mist swirled, Maglor swore he saw the form and face of a female. ‘Forgiveness was given you long ago, you only needed accept it.’
“I cannot be forgiven! I am a kinslayer…I carry the curse of the Noldor.” Maglor called out to the mist.
The trembling elf looked up to find a beautiful lady, cloaked in gray leaning around his body. Her remnants flowed and blended into the mist; Maglor could not distinguish where her form ended and the mist began.
‘Forgiveness is yours for your heart is guided by love and loyalty, not by greed or hate. What you did, you did for the love of your father, right or wrong.’ Maglor wept at her words as dark memories flooded his mind.
‘The Kinslaying has two sides…did the Teleri not also kill their kin?’
“They only defended what was theirs. It was the Noldor who attacked.” Maglor sobbed.
‘You attacked no one. You protected your own and those who did not wish to fight. You spilled the blood of no innocent. Then, when others wished to leave the sons of Eärendil to die, you stood tall and took them in, as your own. You taught them, loved them, returned them to their people because you knew it was right; despite the ache you felt.’
Maglor had now crumbled on the jetty, wrapping his arms around his middle and rocking back and forth. A cool hand reached out and lifted his face. Dark eyes looked lovingly at him, looked at him with forgiveness.
‘Your heart, Son of Fëanor, is true. Punish yourself no longer; find peace and rest in my words. You have the forgiveness of the Valar, gentle one. It is you who needs to forgive yourself. The young minstrel sees you for who you are and he lost distant kin at that harbor. He sees there is no need for forgiveness, but ask for it if you must.’
The blanket of mist danced around the lithe form. ‘Keep true to your heart and you will find a place in Valinor, just as Galadriel has. Only Círdan, Galadriel and yourself remain from that fateful day. Only they, and Elrond Half-elven, would know you on sight. Grieve no more. Find the beauty in life of which you once sang. It is there if you will just embrace it.’
With that the Este melted into the mist and left a wreck of an elf sobbing in the rain.
‘This one is stubborn and will not let go willingly.’ She thought as she drifted to her own realm.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.