Daylight Stars by Luxa

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Chapter 1

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When Nimloth knocked on the door, her hand was shaking. "He's getting better," Idril had told her quietly. "And he was never really all the bad." It was those words that led Nimloth to come that day, to face someone she had put out of her mind.

But Idril hadn't been there for the Second Kinslaying. She hadn't see him. She almost turned around until she remembered that Idril had been there for the First.

She expected a house-servant or butler to answer the door, not Master Elrond himself. She, although born into a noble house and married into royalty (not to mention her relation to the man), still got nervous when she came face-to-face with someone like Elrond. It was easy for her to forget she was of the stuff of legend too.

Elrond bowed slightly as he opened the door wide to let her in. "It is nice to see you, Lady Nimloth, away from the bustle of events and parties."

She smiled. It was a polite way of saying that they'd never properly spoken. He was an incredibly handsome man, she noticed as she entered his house. If she searched his face she could see some of Dior's features, even a few of her own. The Noldoran blood was more evident, though, despite how diluted it should have been.

"My grandmother," said Elrond softly as she passed. "I am sorry I have never gotten to know you. With so few of my relatives reembodied, I would like to have a long talk with you sometime. We could have tea together, if you'd like."

"I would like that," she said. "But today I am here for another matter."

"Of course," he said warmly, leading her through his home.

She had heard of Imladris, of course. She'd been reembodied before the end of the Third Age, and had been there for the big fuss as the High Elves there arrived. Elves had been arriving from Imladris for thousands of years, and always told of how peaceful it was.

Elrond's house seemed to be a smaller, even calmer version of his solitary refuge. The windows were open and letting a warm breeze flow through the pale blue and richly carved walls. There were books everywhere, some in elegant bookshelves, some in orderly stacks on the floor next to comfortable armchairs. Nimloth was glad to see her grandson was living a comfortable, quiet life after all his troubles.

"He is with my wife, outside," said Elrond. "He likes to look at the stars."

"It's daytime," objected Nimloth.

Elrond shot her a small smile. "He was born in Valinor many ages ago, and the world has dimmed since then. He claims he can see the stars even during the day."

Nimloth began to wonder about her grandson. Did he believe that?

The back porch was separated by a soft blue curtain, and she swept through, Elrond right behind her. She stopped almost immediately, feeling the tall Half-elven legend behind her nearly stumble into her and fall. She stifled a laugh.

Then she realized who she was looking at and swallowed hard.

Celebrían stood from her chair, which faced a marvelous view of rising hills covered in big green trees with leaves dark green from lack of rain. She closed the book she'd been reading and nodded to Nimloth silently, silver hair rushing pat pointed ears ever so gracefully. She pecked Elrond on the cheek as she passed. The Half-elf smiled so happily she knew he loved her deeply.

"Lady Nimloth," introduced Elrond. "Lord Maedhros."

He bowed again behind turning and leaving gracefully. Nimloth caught a glimpse of a worried expression, though, and knew he would stay close.

Maedhros stood from his own chair, turning towards her. She unconsciously took a step back. In her mind's eye she could see Doriath, see the attack, see the fire and the smoke and the pounding of horses' hooves against hard stone. She could see the fire in Celegorm's eyes as he slew her husband, her love, even as he bled from his own mortal wound. She could feel the cold steel of the blade as it drew across her throat.

She took a deep shuddering breath to calm herself. She needed to stay alert.

She hardly got to glance at the tall man before he was bowing so deeply that she couldn't see his face. When he straightened he was still hard to see, standing more than a foot above her, maybe two. His hair she remembered, although the last time she had seen it was from atop of a horse, steaming behind him from under a silver helm.

He seemed to be waiting for her to say something, so she finally managed, "I am glad I am finally able to meet you here."

What a horribly dumb thing to say. He was probably judging her.

He sat back down, gesturing to the seat next to him. She took it, finally able to look into his dark silver eyes. He glanced down self-consciously as she stared at him, brushing dark red hair behind one severed ear. When he smiled the scar that split his lips twisted his mouth slightly.

"I take it no one told you I was reembodied with all of my old imperfections," he said with a small rueful smile. "I wish people would gossip more. Then I would stop getting such stares."

His humor was controlled, careful. He did not know how she would react to him. He wanted to put her at ease but did not quite know if he had the right to. He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes, waiting for her to say something.

She didn't know what to say, though. She'd thought about meeting one of them, a Fëanorian, for a long time, but she'd never thought about what she'd say when they were face to face.

"Why?" she finally asked. "Why were you given a new body with all the scars of the old one?"

Maedhros sighed, looking up into the sky. His nearly translucent skin showed blue veins when he stretched his neck, reminding Nimloth of how fragile they all were in the end.

"I was told it was a punishment," said Maedhros finally, tapping the stump of his right wrist with the fingers of his left hand. "But I am not inclined to believe it. I don't think even Mandos was able to heal what Moringotto had done to my hröa."

"You're being very honest with me."

"I am," he said simply, meeting her gaze with piercing eyes. "Honestly is all I have now."

He didn't sound sorry about it. He was stating a fact.

"I hated you for a long time," she said, heart pounding. "And I don't feel bad about that. Your brother killed my husband. You attacked my people."

"I know," he replied, voice low. "I was tempted to greet you with an apology, to tell you how sorry I was. I did not. This is because I knew that nothing I saw can or ever will be able to make up for my actions."

There was a pause.

"Let's take a walk."

"What?"

She stood, grabbing his left hand and pulling him up with her. He was too surprised to protest, letting her do what she wanted. "I don't understand," he said, confused.

"Me neither," she admitted. "I want to clear my head. Let's go for a walk."

"A...walk?"

"Yes," she said. "You put one foot in front of the other until you're going somewhere."

"I know what a walk is."

"Are you sure?"

He chuckled. "Well, I've been wrong before."

She didn't let go of his hand as she led him onto the lawn behind Elrond's home. Past a few feet of smooth grass began a huge stand of trees, not quite big enough to be called a forest but still big. They strolled together, onto a path half-hidden in the woods. Nimloth breathed the air in and felt at home around the thick green plant life.

Maedhros seemed to be having a slightly harder time, having to duck for branch after branch as they walked. She hid her smile and concentrated on the sights around her, fingertips brushing tree bark and ferns.

Eventually she broke the silence by asking, "Can you really see the stars in the day?"

He looked up, but the trees formed a canopy over their heads. "Sometimes," he replied, voice hoarse. Hoarse and gravelly and just a bit unnatural. "Sometimes the sky is not bright enough. Sometimes my mind slips away from me and I…lose myself for a while. I spent a long time in the Halls of Mandos, Much had changed in the world on my return."

"Yes," she agreed, rubbing her thumb over his scarred hand. "It has."

"Your legendary kindness has not."

She frowned at the compliment, old pain rearing its head. As she tore her hand out of the grasp she'd forced upon him. "My legendary kindness? What good did that do me when you stormed my home, killed my people? Save the compliments, please, and do not expect kindness from me. Just be grateful when you get it."

He did not reply, but only turned away a little. They'd stopped walking now, right in the middle of the path.

He glanced at her, still silent. The sun was beginning to worm its way through the leaves, finding its way to the ground so it could beautifully dapple it. Maedhros stared at the light spots quietly.

Several minutes passed. Nimloth concentrated on the noise of the insects, of the birds flying up in the high branches, the chattering of squirrels, on the sap oozing from one old dying tree.

"I am sorry for what I did. But please do not antagonize me."

He said the words with a quiet resignation, but she could tell his jaw was set even from the glimpse she saw from his back.

"You're the one who-"

"I respect you. You were showing me kindness when few others will, and you were closest to the ruin, to what I became when I fell from the right path. Even if that kindness has already waned, I am glad for it."

He looked back, meeting her eyes. Such a deep silver.

"If, someday, you can forgive me, please let me know. The idea that I- I'm not beyond hope…it is comforting. I said earlier I would not apologize, as I know that it is not enough. That does not mean that I do not repent."

He let out a noise that may have been a soft sigh, the only clue to his emotions beyond his raspy, controlled voice. "

Thank you for being willing to see me. Not many are."

He nodded at her before returning to his previous activity, which had been solemnly gazing towards the sky.

She was speechless. She'd thought she wasn't angry, but still she'd snapped. She'd come thinking that she was the better person, that she would deliver him peace through some kind words and forgiveness. She'd failed to realize he'd already made his peace, and that it was her who was floundering, her who needed guidance.

Not that she was exactly in the fault. He had killed many of her people. If Mandos could forgive him enough to let him go, than so could Nimroth.

"Come," she said pleasantly. "Let's continue our walk."

Surprised even as she grasped his hand, he blinked down at her as she pulled him forward once again.

"I forgive you," she said quietly. "Or I will soon enough. Now let us get deeper into these woods. I think the greater beauty lies inwards."

"If you say so, my lady."

"I do. And do not frown like that. It does not become you."

She heard a loud gravelly chuckle from behind her and smiled.