Rise Again From Ashes by Independence1776

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Chapter 11

One of these weeks, I’m going to get back to my regular posting schedule. Many thanks to Aearwen22, who gave me some advice for this chapter.

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I woke up gasping, from a memory-nightmare of the time I’d nearly been arrested for witchcraft, which I’d escaped solely by speed and my faster reflexes. I rubbed my sweaty face and flung the covers off. The incident the night before must have triggered it. I made my way through the dark room and leaned against the cool window glass, staring out at the water until the sun rose. I could only hope this wasn’t a portent for the day.

After a swift breakfast of eggs and a piece of toast, Tirn and I strolled to the small classroom in the main house where we helped teach about mortal culture. Once in the room, I unclipped the leash from Tirn's collar and told him to lie down and to stay in the corner. He snorted, but obeyed me. His ears remained pricked as the students came in, though his chin lay between his paws. One child immediately wanted to pet him, but his father caught him and led him to his desk. I sat down with the child, keeping him occupied by telling him stories while his parents talked to the teacher.

No more than an hour later, I looked up from my discussion of wind instruments with a Sinda named Falas when I heard Erestor call my name. I excused myself and walked over to him. “Lord Elrond requires your presence, Maglor.”

I gulped, signed “come” to Tirn, leashed him, and followed Erestor out of the room after bowing to the teacher. On our walk to the study, he didn't bother to talk to me, but I was content with my thoughts. I had no doubts what this meeting was about-- the Sinda who had nearly attacked me last night would have no compunctions about lying. Erestor knocked sharply on the wooden door and opened it after a few seconds.

“Maglor Fëanorion, my lord,” he said, bowing and then leaving.

I entered the room, closing the door after Tirn. I bowed to Lord Elrond and stood silently at attention. I ignored the presence of the Sinda and his two friends standing before Elrond's desk, only checking to make sure that my dog was between them and me.

Lord Elrond softly spoke. “I will give each of you one chance to tell your side of the event. There will be no interruptions.” He stared each one of us in the eyes, mouth set in a thin line, hands flat on his desk. His gaze hardened when he glanced at me, and there was no smile in his eyes. The four of us hastily agreed and Elrond pointed a hand at the Sinda.

He glanced back at me before steadily looking at Elrond. “My friends and I were walking along the beach near the last of the houses. I saw Maglor sitting on the sand and staring at the water and decided to introduce myself. I stepped in front of him, and he suddenly whistled, and that dog appeared between us, growling. I have no doubt that dog would have attacked us if we would not have left.”

The two cronies told similar stories, but I had no doubt that they had been rehearsed. Just enough of the truth had been left out, and the trouble was, their tale sounded reasonable. Elrond looked at me, face composed and not letting any of his feelings show. I told him what happened, including the fact that they had threatened me before. Of course, the others denied it. And I knew that it was my word against theirs. Three against one, and the one being generally considered untrustworthy in the first place.

Elrond frowned and said to the Sinda, “Would Maglor have felt threatened in any way by your presence on the shore?” The Sinda shook his head, an expression of mild confusion on his face. “Did the dog make any move to attack you, or did he just threaten?”

“No, my lord. The dog just stood between us and growled.”

“I thought you were immediately in front of Maglor. Where was there room for Tirn?”

The Sinda blinked and said, “Maglor had stood up and backed away from us.”

“You said that he had remained seated through the entire event.” The three paled and Elrond's lips thinned. “Tell me the truth.”

The Sinda, nervously eyeing Tirn over his shoulder, finally did so. Elrond thanked me for coming. Knowing it was a dismissal, I left the room and closed the door. I let out a deep breath and leaned against the wall. Stupid. But at least they would stop harassing me, though others would probably take their places. I straightened up and returned to the classroom.

* * * * *

Two days later, I learned what happened to the Sinda and his friends. The former had been expelled from the school and sent home and the latter, who had been raised in this house, were now working in the forge at only the most basic tasks. Their story had unfortunately spread faster than the truth, and there were those who flinched whenever they saw Tirn. Some of them made an effort to talk to me, especially about the incident. A few, of course, just wanted to talk to the infamous Maglor and his infamous dog. But more people, once they found that I was simply afraid, started making an effort to talk to me.

* * * * *

“That was not something you had anticipated, was it?” Glorfindel asked one evening, peering at the light shining through his red wine.

“No,” I responded, closing the door after I shooed my beggar of a dog outside.

“Are you going to play for us after we eat?”

I rolled my eyes, but agreed. They’d been after me to do so long enough. “It will be extremely traditional, I warn you, or heavily influenced by Men.”

“It does not matter, Maglor,” she said, putting rice into a pan of meat, vegetables, and stock simmering on the stove. “I am just grateful that you'll play something. I am not terribly good at music, and Glorfindel would rather paint.”

I turned to him, eyebrow raised. He pointed to the painting of a quiet seashore just before dawn on the bathroom wall.

“I did that one, about two hundred years ago. I like to think I have improved.”

“It's better than any I've done,” I muttered. “My talents lie in writing, not crafting.”

Glorfindel just shook his head. “I have not had the time to paint recently--”

“Too busy trying to help me adjust?” I asked, trying hard to hide the bitterness.

“Among other things. Maglor, I have come to appreciate the time I spend with you. You are not a chore, or an assignment, or whatever else you are thinking. You are a friend.”

I stared at him and whispered, “Even with what I've done?”

“Even with what you have done,” he replied just as quietly.

I ducked my head, not wanting to meet his eyes. “Why?”

“Because you are more than your actions, just as I am. People tend to only see one or two facets of someone, ignoring the whole. And I refuse to do that if I can.”

I thanked him and remained silent until our food was ready. Glorfindel was right. I had to remember that. I could only hope it would help.

Several hours later, after a short performance that degenerated into much laughter and not much playing, partly due to the music I was playing but mostly because of our good moods, the couple left with a promise that it would be I who next cooked. I closed and locked the door after them, sitting down with the packet of letters Glorfindel had given me when he had arrived, Tirn settling down at my feet.

I grimaced, putting the bundle on my lap. I did not want to read them, because they were from my family. The letter on top was in Narmincë's handwriting, and I knew that this letter would determine whether I’d be able to even talk to her. The others… the others were from my extended family, and those frightened me more than anything, for they would determine how I would be accepted outside Elrond's House. Mother had not written. I finally moved to the table, placing the stack before me, staring at the one from my wife. After so long, had she come to terms with what I had done? Or was she simply informing me that she wished to live apart for the rest of time? I sighed. I had always hoped that she’d welcome me back, but I knew that it was questionable, especially because I had not yet made any effort, not wanting to intrude where I may not be welcome. But there was only one way to find out: I opened the letter.

Dearest Makalaurë,

I blinked, rereading the greeting. She had called me dearest. I hadn’t expected that.

I confess that writing a letter as my first greeting to you after Ages of separation is not what I had hoped to do. But when Elrond-- before he left Aman for the first time-- told me that he was looking for you, I rejoiced. It had long been my hope that the Valar would allow you to return, though I never asked them and nor did they inform me.

Much of this hope was kindled because of your foster son, even when he explained to me the circumstances behind the fostering. Of course, I already knew the information due to Elwing and Eärendil, but I think it helped him to talk to someone who viewed you more sympathetically. We became friends over time, and I occasionally visit.

But when he so informed me that he wanted to bring you home, I knew that greeting you would be one of the worst things possible. I knew you'd be confused-- sometimes, the changes Valinor has gone through have confused me, and continue to do so. I also knew that you would prefer to adjust in relative peace, and should not have to adjust to living with another person again, especially if that person was your wife.

So I write this letter in hope that you will not reject me, and that our long separation has not completely estranged us. Write me if you desire, for we have much to discuss. I love you, Makalaurë, and I always will.

Narmincë

I put the letter on the table and stared at it, hardly breathing. She didn't hate me. That was a start. Hell, it was more than one. She said she still loved me. I leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes and remembering her. Her kisses, her laughter, her body, her debating with me over the most trivial of matters, her nagging to get me ready for my rare appearances at court as anything other than a musician, her support of almost everything I had done. Almost everything save the Oath and the consequences of it. That sobered me, and I reopened my eyes. I had to respond, but I would be cautious. There were many things that I didn’t feel comfortable committing to letters that could be read en route to the recipient-- and not all of them had to do with the mistakes in my past.

I folded the letter, and put it to the right of the packet. I slipped another one off it, this one from Finarfin. I stared at the seal more reminiscent of flowers instead of flames and opened the letter.

Maglor,

Welcome home. I trust you will not be so rash again?

I rubbed my forehead with my free hand. Did he have to remind me of those events, or phrase it in such a manner?

Speaking as your king-- and yes, I am king even though both Father and Fingolfin have been reborn-- I expect you to attend this new year’s celebration at my house in Tirion. I do not need to see you before then, but will if you so desire.

Finarfin

The new year was more than half a year away. I could handle a short visit. I reached down and rubbed one of Tirn's ears. I had to, for Elrond’s sake.

I swiftly read through the rest of the letters, most generally positive and short, none with weighty news. But then, why would they write of things of such import? I was an unknown quantity at this point, and probably the cause of much of the trouble the kings were dealing with. Furthermore, what experience did I have to deal with politics now? I was no longer anyone of importance. Valinor had moved on. I went upstairs, retrieved some paper and a pen, and sat down to write my responses.

Dearest Narmincë,

I will write, but you are correct that I should be focused on adjusting to life here. Thank you so much for that.

Forget the above formality. I find that I am having trouble finding the words-- cherish the thought-- to write what I want to say. Know that I am incredibly grateful that you still love me, even with my flaws and… actions. That your thoughtfulness in letting me adjust alone means that adjusting to living with you will hopefully be easier.

Yes, we do have much to discuss, but some of it I will not commit to letters. Mostly, I’ve been adjusting, learning my place here, and making friends. Glorfindel, for one-- I would never have anticipated that. Furthermore, I have a dog, who is both guard and companion.

I am glad to be in Aman, Narmincë. Life in Middle-earth was fascinating, endlessly changing, and lonely. You… the knowledge you were still alive when so many of my family weren’t was sometimes all that kept me grounded. Knowing that you still care for me-- I’m sure I could play something to show you how I feel, but writing? It’s near impossible.

I am a bit glad that you have chosen not to meet me yet. When a leader of a House must take guards for reason beyond ceremony, I’m not sure it would be safe for you to travel for the express purpose of meeting me. This is also not how I had hoped to reunite with you, but it is probably for the best given the circumstances.

Eternally yours,

Makalaurë

I folded it and placed it to the side, grabbing another blank sheet of paper.

Uncle,

As you order, I shall be present at the new year. Do not look for me before then. Yes, I have learned my lesson. I hope that we will not dwell on the past.

Maglor

I folded that one as well and studied the small stack of letters I still had to answer. Even though all of them could be answered with what mortals would call a form letter, I personalized them with tidbits of daily life here. Once done, I stared at my responses, hardly able to believe that so many had even been willing to open up to even that small amount of dialogue. At least I had replied, leaving me unable to be accused of rudeness. I ran a hand through my hair, exasperated at the politics that I was forced to play, no matter that I preferred to not think or respond to them. Rather than brood, I brushed Tirn, letting the repetitive motion calm me.