In the Shadows by Cirth

Chapter 1

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Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's works.

In the Shadows

Maedhros emerged from the darkness, his form almost translucent. Draped over his shoulders was the pale, grey garb of the inhabitants of the Halls of Mandos. He inclined his head in a curt, almost mocking bow. "Uldor the Accursed," he greeted wryly.

From his position on the ground – or what he called the ground – Uldor returned, "Maedhros the Kinslayer." He did not meet Maedhros' eyes.

"Are you not going to beg my forgiveness?" Maedhros asked in an expectant, though oddly patient, tone.

"You would not give it to me, and I would not deserve it, either way. I have learned to exist with my sins, however wretched that existence may be." He paused, drawing one knee to his chest, his shoulders hunched. "Have you begged forgiveness from all the thousands you killed?"

Maedhros pursed his lips, and then gave a brief, humourless laugh. "As much as I wish to hate you, I cannot. Your heart is good."

"And my hands are stained with blood."

"That is true for me, also."

Uldor put his chin in his hand. "Sinners, the two of us," he said. "I betrayed you because my people were starving and needed new lands. You killed your kin because you wanted to retrieve your father's artistic masterpiece. We both had our reasons."

There was a long silence, broken only by the whispers of other conversing denizens, like a rustle of wind through grass. You were permitted to speak with one person at a time in the Halls, and no more. Uldor looked at Maedhros properly at last. "Where is your brother? Did he not follow you in death?"

"He did not," Maedhros said quietly, after a pause. His expression was pained, almost nauseous; he looked betrayed.

Uldor remembered Maglor's careworn face, remembered the way he would press his fist over his lips when he grew worried. He worried a lot. They sang together, sometimes, at the Gap, by a fireplace in the great hall. Once, after performing a duet for an inebriated audience of three, Maglor had put an arm around his shoulders and kissed his cheek, his lips warm and chapped. Uldor continued: "He told me you were the only brother he would ever raise his fist against, because he loved you the most. Love is a funny thing." He frowned. "I thought he would die with you, if it came down to it."

"So did I. That was foolish of me, and cruel." Maedhros' brow creased. "Or perhaps it would have been merciful. I do not know."

"Would you be happy if he died?"

"I would."

Uldor stood up, deciding not to ask Maedhros for the reasons behind his reply. His mantle draped to his ankles. He looked up for a moment at the endless shadows, laced with a soft, silver haze, and then at Maedhros. "Do you wish to be released from this place?"

"No," Maedhros said immediately, as if he did not have to think about his answer.

"Truly? I do. It's selfish, but I want to feel the sun on my back again."

Maedhros lowered his gaze for a few moments, as if lost in thought. At length, he said, "Perhaps you will, someday."

-finis-