Rise Again From Ashes by Independence1776

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Chapter 15

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Three weeks later, I knocked on the door separating the family suite from the rest of the third floor. Elrohir opened it with a grin.

“Father is embarrassed that we are making a fuss out of his birthday. Mother is not giving him a choice.”

I laughed and stepped into the hallway. “Why?”

His face lost a little of its humor, but he was still smiling. “You. This is the first time that you have been able to be here.”

I followed the noise of conversation to the large room at the end of the hall, one with windows on all three sides and a balcony overlooking the ocean. It was a comfortable room, with couches scattered here and there, with a lit fireplace to the right of the entrance and a bookcase to the left as one entered. Elrohir pointed to where I could put my violin down safely-- out of the way of the twin girls running around. I stayed out of their way, having no desire to be knocked down. Elrohir, on the other hand, swooped down and grabbed one of his grandchildren, lifting her up and kissing her cheek before doing the same to her sister. He turned to me, each on one hip, both grinning wildly.

They chorused hello and broke into giggles. Elrohir put them back on the floor, where they immediately started running around again. I grinned, remembering two boys their age, almost but not quite misbehaving. I sat down on one of the couches, thanking Elrohir when he handed me a glass. He moved off to talk to his son-in-law, but his daughter sat next to me.

“So, what are you going to play?”

“Whatever you want, as long as it is from the Years of the Trees or First Age Beleriand.”

“Nothing new?”

I smiled and sipped my water. “For Elrond. But I want it to be a surprise.”

She switched the topic of conversation. Before we could become too involved in the discussion of the latest books we had read, Eärendil and his wife stepped into the room, followed by Elrond and Celebrían. I froze, but relaxed when the Silmaril was nowhere in sight. Elrond's parents immediately cornered Elrohir, where they proceeded to discuss something in whispers. Elrond rolled his eyes and knelt down just in time to hug his great-granddaughters. Celebrían joined us on the couch, joining in our talk about books. Elrond sat at her feet, playing with the girls, and commenting occasionally.

I leaned against the arm of the couch and studied my foster son. He was more relaxed this evening than I had seen him since my arrival. He truly enjoyed time with his family, and as I looked around, I realized that out of his immediate family still living, only Elladan was not here. And even those not living still held a place of honor, for a large painting of Arwen and Aragorn hung above the fireplace. It wasn't a formal portrait, but one of them simply holding hands and laughing. I didn't know when it was painted, but Arwen was wearing the Ring of Barahir, so it must have been shortly before the War of the Ring, for the setting was clearly Imladris.

Elrond caught my eye. “They would have been glad you were here. Aragorn had heard a rumor you were in Harad after the War, but the man he sent to find you only heard that you had signed on with a caravan heading East.”

“I did not know that. But I am glad the man didn't find me. At that point, I would have refused to return.”

Elrond smiled sadly and turned away, barely in time to stop one of the girls from throwing something at her father.

The evening drew slowly on, and although I avoided talking to Eärendil and Elwing, I was happy. This was my family now, and even though they were technically related by blood, they were far closer to my heart. After the meal was over, during which Elrond had teased me about the Doriathan pastry that we had never truly figured out how to make, I went to the balcony to find a little bit of peace.

I stood out there for only a little while before Elwing joined me, handing me a piece of paper.

“The recipe.”

I blinked and took it, folding the paper and tucking it into a pocket. I turned to face her, confused.

She smiled and gazed at the ocean. “Elrond's story at dinner convinced me that you need to learn to make it properly. So I shall come over tomorrow after dinner-- I know you are busy during the day-- and teach you. No choice, Maglor.”

“But--”

“But what?” she said, looking me in the eye for the first time all evening. “It will not hurt you.”

“Why now?”

“Because this is the first opportunity I've had to talk to you that you cannot run away from. Do not be stupid, Maglor. You raised my sons. Teaching you this is the least I can do.”

“I ruined your life.”

“No, the Silmaril did, and my pride. I know that if I had given into your demands, it would never have happened. But Doriath… That grieves me more than Sirion.”

She left me then, returning inside. I drained the last of the water from my glass, and followed Elwing indoors to pour myself another. This time, Elrohir cornered me and brought me into a conversation about politics with his son-in-law. It was hard enough listening when I knew very little about the current happening at court, much less the people involved, and even worse when the undercurrents meant that I was continuing to be a major problem. I only managed to escape when Elrohir's daughter interrupted and nodded towards my violin. I gratefully left the topic of politics to the other two and swiftly tuned my instrument, drawing Elrond's attention when I did so.

He sat down, delighted, as his family ringed around him, his great-grandchildren leaning against him on either side. I played a few traditional begetting day songs, one of which caused Elrond to laugh because it was the first thing I had taught him to play on the harp, before moving into the complicated and yet joyful piece I had been working on since my arrival at the House.

I poured into it all the affection, the love, and the thanks I felt for my foster son, from when he was a small child, and especially for what he risked in bringing me back to Valinor. For as I had found out over the past months, it was more than I had imagined. And that kindness was a part of him. When I put down the bow, I looked straight at him, not surprised to find tears in his eyes.

After a couple seconds of uncomfortable silence, I began to play a jig that I had learned several centuries ago in Ireland. Celebrían drew her husband off the couch and danced with him around the room. It broke the serious mood, the twins spinning into their own dance directly in front of me, laughing. I glanced over at Elwing, who had a faraway look in her eyes, but she was wearing a small smile. Eärendil glanced at me and nodded. Surprised and unsure of what to do, I turned my attention back to my playing and started an Elvish jig.

I only played a few more songs before all of us went downstairs to the Hall of Fire, where Elrond requested I play the new song again. I did so without hesitation, and afterward joined some other musicians in playing dance tunes. Shortly after midnight, I headed home, needing to let Tirn out. It was one of the few times I resented having him, as I didn’t want to leave. Elrond caught me on the way outside, and drew me into a hug before returning to the celebration.

I laughed aloud as I trudged home. For the first time since I had been here, I felt accepted for who and what I was: a reformed Fëanorion. I knew that Elrond's parents would never be completely comfortable around me, but the fact that they were even willing to talk to me was a large step in the right direction. Add to that the fact that I had been invited to the family-only celebration… Valinor was beginning to feel once more like a home.

* * * * *

I caught up the next day with Glorfindel at lunch in the main hall, grabbing the seat next to his wife before he could. “So, what did you give him?”

“You did not see it?” he asked. I shook my head, puzzled. “Go by his study and ask. All I will say is that he loves it.”

“Your husband is no help,” I said, taking a basket of biscuits from his wife and passing them down the table.

Nárë grinned and said, “Well, he is good in a fight. And in bed.”

Glorfindel choked on his mouthful of beans. I chuckled at his expression, but refrained from teasing him. Narmincë had said similar things to her friends, sometimes where I could overhear them, and occasionally when I wasn't supposed to. He pointed his fork at his wife.

“See if I come to bed anytime this week!”

She only raised her eyebrows, a wicked gleam in her eyes and unsuccessfully hiding a grin. Glorfindel spent the rest of the meal verbally sparring with her, while the rest of us listened in amusement or ignored it. After lunch was over, I went to Elrond's study, where I told him that Glorfindel had wanted me to see his present. Elrond smiled and put aside the report he was reading.

As he opened the door to the family quarters, he said, “I hung it this morning, so you would not have seen it last night.”

He led me down the hall to the area where he kept a small gallery of portraits of his family. I had seen them previous times that I had been in the quarters, but had paid little attention to them previously. Elrond pointed to one that hung in the spot where a copy of my royal portrait used to hang. Curious, I moved closer and smiled. Glorfindel had painted me that afternoon on the hill, sitting and looking over the water, a tired but peaceful expression on my face. I turned to Elrond. “Why?”

“I knew you hated the old one, and I didn't like it much, either. This one captures your personality. The other one--”

“Didn't, to put it mildly.”

Elrond chuckled and led me back downstairs. I returned to the classroom, Tirn trotting at my heels. Just a few hours later, though, I was the student in my own kitchen. Tirn had been banished outside for being underfoot, and I had flour covering my face. Elwing kept glancing at me, obviously having a hard time not laughing. She instructed me to make three loaves, each under her supervision until she was sure that I knew what to do. At least before she left, she’d pronounced them edible. After I cleaned up, I collapsed onto the couch. That woman was a terror and as stubborn as she had been back in the First Age. But what was I supposed to do with three large pastries? Elrond had leftovers already and Glorfindel didn't like it. One I could keep for myself, but who to give the others to? Tathar and his family? They would appreciate it. But the third? Maybe I would just bring it to the next meeting of musicians. There, I knew it would be eaten.

I went outside, grabbing a cloak as the night was a little cold, especially with the breeze blowing in from the ocean. When I closed the door, Tirn came running up, tongue lolling out of his mouth. With him at my side, I headed into the field to the south because I had no desire to become wet from the spray. I needed a walk, and there was much to think about, not the least Elwing’s tolerance of me.