Rise Again From Ashes by Independence1776

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Chapter 2

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I woke up the next morning with the light of false dawn slowly brightening the room. I stayed under the covers for a moment, luxuriating in the warmth, before I remembered where I was and why it wasn't safe for me to stay there. I crept out of bed, peeked through the crack in the curtains and relaxed when I saw no crowd surrounding the inn. In fact, I saw no one. That alone was surprising, given what I remembered of life in Valinor, there had always been people on the streets, no matter the time.

I let the curtain fall and extracted some clothes from a bag so I could get dressed, for Lord Elrond and I would be leaving after breakfast. After I took my shower, I stood on the hardwood floor in bare feet, drying my hair. It felt strange to be here in Valinor after all these years. It was even stranger given that I had expected to be a prisoner. My freedom-- the little of it I had been granted-- was even more precious for that reason. I may have restrictions on what I could do, but I was free.

It was something the Valar hadn't even granted to Morgoth until he had spent three Ages in Mandos. But what I had done was, while heinous, less grievous than his actions. And I had spent my time since the end of the First Age in exile. Maybe, just maybe, the Valar had considered that reparation enough.

I tossed the damp towel onto the bed and automatically put my hair into a loose ponytail so my ears would be hidden. I smiled and redid it-- there was no reason to hide them here. But the smile slid off my face when I remembered that there would be similar actions that I would have to learn to curtail, for they would be embarrassing here where they were not needed.

Once my hair was fixed, I tugged on a pair of socks and slipped my feet into my boots. I scanned the room, put the small bag of hair ties back into my bag, and hung the towel over the rod in the bathroom. I then gazed out the window at the sunrise, the blacks and grays turning into soft oranges and pinks while the sun slowly rose. A soft knock on my door made me smile and turn away from the window. I opened the door to find Elrond there.

He smiled and said, “Would you like to eat breakfast here or in the dining room?”

I looked my foster son in the eyes and said, “The dining room. There is no point in my hiding up here-- the Eldar know I have returned.”

He nodded and stepped out of the doorway. I followed him down the hall, listening to the inn slowly waking up. Smells-- mostly of fresh bread and cooking sausage-- wafted up from the kitchen. The innkeeper's wife smiled at Lord Elrond and inclined her head politely at me, directing us to a small table near the window. I sat down only after my lord did, remembering the protocol that had driven much of court life in Tirion in the past, no matter that I had only been involved on the periphery, more focused on my music than politics.

I ate mechanically, not truly tasting the eggs nor the sausage. Instead, I concentrated on the people starting about their business. The dining room slowly filled, some people coming from upstairs-- one family with a talkative child only of about twelve- and others coming in for a quick meal before work. Few paid attention to us, though I did note several curious but not hostile glances. But I ignored them, focused on learning mannerisms and other details that would seem normal to people living here but would make me stand out for not using them. Still, not much had changed. We Eldar were far too bound by tradition and memory for some things to change easily. Even the clothing-- although it had evolved-- was not radically different from what I remembered.

After breakfast, while Elrond talked with the innkeeper, I returned to our rooms, gathered the bags, and met my lord by the entry. He smiled and took his bag from me and walked outside to where a leggy brown horse hitched to a small cart waited. I followed him, readjusting my grip on my own baggage. Once at the cart, I tossed my bags in next to Elrond's and climbed onto the seat. Elrond, by that point, had already taken the reins and was waiting for me. Once I was settled, with my violin securely under the seat, did he click his tongue and the horse started moving.

Because the traffic-- both pedestrian and vehicular-- grew more congested as more and more traveled to work, leaving the city was slow. However, it gave me a chance to notice things I hadn't on the journey here. Most of the traffic was mounted, but it wasn't on horseback. People were on bicycles, though they didn't look exactly like the mortal versions, with only a few mounted on horses. I leaned against the cushioned seat, astounded. When had the Eldar invented bicycles?

I asked Elrond, who laughed and glanced at me before returning his attention to the road. “It was a surprise to me as well upon my arrival. They were invented during the last part of the Second Age, after Númenor fell. Too many people couldn't afford to keep horses, or the cities were too crowded, so one of the Noldorin smiths who had remained behind during the Rebellion invented it.”

I nodded and asked, “What other technologies are there?”

“It depends on what area of Valinor one lives in for some of them-- there's a few large settlements far to the south where the weather is constantly warm that have a form of air conditioning-- but for the most part, they are little things. Printing presses were invented during the Exile; photography not long after that.” He smiled at me and continued, “Many of the things you became used to in Middle-earth we have here, though we may never have electricity or things of that nature. We simply do not need them. But we do have other things mortals don't, or at least not reliably.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, but he ignored me for the moment, concentrating on navigating the road out of the city. Once out of traffic, he said, “Aircraft. Most of it is gliders or hot air, but we do have a few airplanes. Manwë's eagles were not happy about it at the beginning, but they have learned to share the airspace.”

I laughed aloud, imagining the look on an eagle's face. “And what did the Valar do?”

“Nothing. I think they have learned their lesson about dealing with the Eldar.”

I snorted. “And it took them how long to learn this?”

Elrond looked steadily at me, the horse pulling the small cart well able to deal with a clear road. “How long did it take for you to realize that you did not hold the entire blame for the deeds of your family?”

I ducked my head, ashamed. “I apologize.”

“For what? You are allowed your opinions. Just be warned that not all will welcome them.”

“The ones who won't welcome them will be the same ones who wish I had never returned. But more will be wary if I speak such, and many of those will think I will be countenancing another rebellion.”

Elrond nodded and said, “You can blame Elladan for the first airplane. It took him nearly fifty years to create a working one, given everything he had to learn about flight, but he managed.”

“Your elder son. And how did you find out?”

“When he flew over the house.”

My mouth dropped open. “How did he manage to power it?”

Elrond grinned and said, “Mortals would called it 'human-powered' aircraft. I am not entirely sure how it works, but powered flight is one of the reasons Elladan is in Middle-earth at this point.”

I shook my head and said softly, “When do you plan on returning?”

“I will not.” He looked at me, all humor gone. “I returned to find you. Maglor, you must understand that it was only a yén ago that the Valar allowed us to return. I do not know why they waited until the Seventh Age, nor how long this will last. I remember Círdan telling us in the Second Age that the Straight Road only went one way: to Valinor. It took Ilúvatar to change that, though the mortals still cannot find it. Rather than have you wander until the End, I had to at least bring the message that you were welcome to return. It was the least I could do for the one who raised me.”

“And what did Eärendil think of this?”

“He understood. We have had Ages together now, Maglor. He knows that in many respects, you are more my father than he.”

“Where does he live?”

“Near Alqualondë, in the tower built for Elwing while he was voyaging.”

I nodded. “He voyages no longer. There is a planet there now.”

“According to the Valar-- and since they helped build this solar system I trust them on this-- there was always a planet there. We just could not see it.” He looked up at the blue sky and sighed. “Things have changed, both here and in Middle-earth. It will take days to explain everything.”

“Fine. Since you aren’t going to explain how the Valar meddled with our perceptions, at least tell me about the important things: politics and laws.”

Elrond stretched before turning slightly to face me. “Finarfin rules the Noldor, which you knew. He is not… pleased, even now, with the House of Fëanor. I do not know how he will react. Alqualondë you should avoid unless you have an extremely good reason to visit. The Teleri will only tolerate you at best. They hold the House of Fëanor responsible for many of the problems of the Darkening.”

“And so they ignore Morgoth's actions?”

“Hardly. The Teleri know full well who caused everything to happen, but they firmly believe that your father should have waited to see what the Valar would do.”

I nodded in agreement. “They feel much the same as I do.”

Elrond smiled and raised an eyebrow. “I would not tell them that-- they may change their minds just to spite you. King Ingwë may or may not wish to speak to you. I think he's willing to wait until you are settled here.”

“Talk to me about what?”

Elrond half-smiled. “I know not. Finarfin will be more demanding if he desires to speak with you. I think he will, but only when he can no longer ignore your presence.”

“There goes any hope of reconciling with my extended family.”

Elrond laughed. “There are those who wish to speak with you, your grandfather being the main one.”

I said quietly, “He was released from Mandos?”

“Two Ages ago. He refused the kingship. I think he finally realized what his actions in regards to your father--”

“You mean his favoritism.”

“Partly, but I also think that--”

“I would rather not discuss this, Elrond.”

“As you wish.”

Elrond turned his attention back to the road, and I looked out over the passing landscape, trying to ignore my memories of the last time I saw my grandfather. Fields of cereal grains, intermingled with other crops, stretched as far as I could see, broken only by scattered houses and small villages. A light breeze brought the smell of honeysuckle to my nose, as well as less pleasant things, like fresh fertilizer.

“What technologies do these farmers use?”

“More efficient plows. The Vanyar hereabouts tend to be more conservative. Some of them think the Noldor are once again going further than they should.”

“Why?”

“I think technology frightens many of the Eldar, due to what happened with the Silmarils. At the same time, many of the Silvan and Sindar peoples are concerned about damage to the environment.” Elrond snorted. “I think they think that because the Noldor tend to live in cities of stone instead of among the trees that they don't care. But the Noldor as a general rule tend to be more careful than the early crafters. They do not always create just to create; many of the time they invent technologies to help us.”

“There is nothing wrong with knowledge for knowledge's sake. Still, I'm glad they think of the consequences.”

We traveled in silence for several more hours, only stopping for a break at noon to eat and to rest the horse when he required it. Once back on the road-- this time I was in control of the horse for practise-- Elrond asked me what I wished to do.

“I don't know. I rarely thought that far ahead. When I did, I figured I'd be working on my music. But I couldn't allow myself to think beyond the trial, in case I had been imprisoned in Mandos.”

“Then may I make a suggestion?”

“Elrond, you're my liege lord. You can order me if you so wish.”

The peredhel gave me a wry look. “Do you truly think that will help?”

I said, “No, but it may make people feel better.”

Elrond laughed and said, “It may. Now, you know that there are Eldar who wish to travel to Middle-earth.” I nodded and let him continue. “There's a loosely organized system of schools for them. Given the differences in Elven culture versus mortal, as well as the languages, it is safer for all concerned. Our main problem is that those who travel there tend to stay for several decades and then return. And there are not enough people here at any given time to teach those who wish to travel.”

I interrupted. “And there's a school of this sort on your land where you wish me to teach.”

“You know better than anyone the intricacies of mortal relationships. You know their histories, their languages, and their beliefs.”

“And by helping, it's giving me another reason for being on your land.”

“It will also help you learn modern Elvish culture, given you will be comparing things. You can ask questions in a setting where people will understand.”

“Instead of one where they may not answer at all.”

“Indeed. I make no pretense of the fact that there will be those in my House who will not welcome you. Father, please be cautious.”

“I will be, Elrond. You have my promise.”

We returned to silence, only talking when I asked questions about the land around us. I finally had an answer to where his land was-- south of Lady Nienna's abode but close enough to Lórien so that he could ride there.

“It is on the coastal plain, something Elrohir appreciates. I think it is the Telerin blood in him showing.”

I laughed. “Probably. So he isn't in Middle-earth?”

“He has no desire to go. He prefers to remember it as it was.”

I nodded and turned back to watching the road. “What is life like on the estate?”

“We are self-sufficient, but we still do a lot of trading with surrounding communities. Most of those who live there are Noldor, of both full and mixed blood. Frankly, at this point in time, there are few Noldor who don't have someone from either the Teleri or Vanyar in their ancestry somewhere. Not that it has ever truly mattered.

“Our house is still a place of reflection and tolerance, but it is more popular with those who would rather not have the Valar nearby. Elven culture now tends to group itself around who was where and when. Most of the settlements near us are those who lived in Middle-earth at the end of the Third Age. It makes it somewhat easier to live, given how things change, even for us.”

Silence fell between us again, but it was comfortable. Here, I didn't have to hide and he didn't have to be conscious of being both my foster son and my liege lord. We finally stopped at twilight. I kindled a small fire to heat up our meal and while Elrond took care of the horse. We slept under the stars, and I couldn't help but smile when I saw how clear they were compared to Middle-earth. The night I had spent in the Máhanaxar I had been too busy concentrating on the Valar to look at the night sky.

The next two days passed in a similar fashion, traveling from farmland into hills and back, until we neared the coastline. Late one afternoon, I spotted in the far distance a long, low structure set on the top of a small hill overlooking the sea. I pointed it out to Elrond.

“Yes,” he said. “The House of the Sea-hills. I cannot see it yet-- you know my eyesight is less keen than a full-blooded Elf's. It’s home.”

I smiled and said, “I hope it becomes home for me as well.”