Rise Again From Ashes by Independence1776

---

Chapter 22

I'm sorry this took longer to post (again). The holidays were busy. I do wish everyone a good year!

---

“I can't do this.”

Narmincë stepped in front of me and grabbed my shoulders. “Yes, you can.”

Glorfindel leaned over to Elrond and said, “I told you we should have brought Lindir.”

Celebrían snorted while Elrond shook his head. She recovered and said, “Competition would not help him right now.”

“His support may have.” I stepped out of my wife's way and resumed pacing. Thankfully, everyone else-- save Glorfindel's wife who was outside playing with Tirn-- had already gone to the amphitheater so they could be seated. Given the number of people who had swarmed the town over the past week, my friends and family were lucky to have reserved seats. Everyone else had to fend for themselves. Finally, though, it was time for us to leave. I took a deep breath and headed out the gate, violin in one hand, Narmincë on my other arm, with Tirn trotting next to me.

Once at the amphitheater, everyone but Narmincë left to take their seats. I looked at the sun slowly turning orange in the twilight. The concert would start at sundown. I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Logistics-wise, this was no different than many concerts I had given. Only the circumstances were different. I could do this. My wife and I hurried backstage, where the manager took one look at Tirn and protested that there were guards on the entrances.

I raised an eyebrow-- when I was planning this, I’d told multiple people he’d be with me-- and said, “He will not be going onstage with me, but will be waiting offstage. He won’t move.”

She gave me a skeptical look and said, “You will tie him down.”

“No. He’ll stay where he’s told, as he was trained to do.”

She frowned and stalked off. Narmincë giggled and handed me my violin, taking Tirn's leash from me. I checked to make sure that everything was ready-- the stand where it was needed, a stool centered in the middle of the large stage on which I could sit. And large it was-- there were two drama groups in town and they used every inch of it. I felt overwhelmed being on it, but the one in Tirion was larger. I just had to remember that.

I walked back to Narmincë, who was peering out the side of the curtain; Tirn lay down and panted next to her. She gently kissed me.

“Please tell me there are no Valar out there.”

“Not that I can see. And no Maiar either. Just a lot of people.”

“Joy.”

She rolled her eyes and kissed me again. “It will not be that bad.”

“Says one of the Amaneldi to a Fëanorion.”

“Hush. I will not tell you not to think about it, but don't dwell on it either. Focus on your music.”

She kissed me again, handed me Tirn's leash, and went to her front row seat next to Elrond. I told my dog to stay, dropped the leash, and walked to my spot. I tuned my violin and warmed up my vocal cords. Only a few more minutes. There was still time for me to cancel. No, I couldn't run. Not now. Not ever again.

Finally, the manager came over to me to check one last time that I was ready. After I acknowledged I was, she retreated to the wings. I watched her count down with her fingers out of the corner of my eyes and concentrated on the heavy curtain as it was swiftly raised. I glanced over the crowd, a blur of faces and multicolored clothes that I refused to focus on, and began to play the haunting melody of the Noldolantë.

As the music grew around me, I lost any attention I had on the crowd, focusing on playing to the best of my abilities. Woven around the lament were fragments of happier times in Beleriand: my brother's return from torment on Thangorodrim, the small victories, the great defeats, the horrific final Kinslayings, the time I spent raising the Peredhil, the War of Wrath, and the final actions of Maedhros and me. From there, after playing the final verse of the Noldolantë, I switched styles.

I played the sounds of the shore, which I wandered for nearly six hundred years. And then I lowered the violin and sang of the deaf woman who brought me out of my shell, the people who helped me further and whom I had helped in return, the far shores of the world, the tribe of the Avari I had the misfortune to meet, and the merchants in Harad who brought me news of my foster son. I played and sang of mortal history when all the Quendi but me were gone or no longer in contact with the mortal world. I sang of the pyramids and the other works of Men, the dynasties and empires, kingdoms great and small, nations forming and collapsing. I played the triumphs and the falls, the dark and the light. I played and sang of mortal history, interweaving my personal history with it. I finally ended as I began: playing the melody of the Noldolantë but rather than leaving at the end, I played on, a brighter melody, one that spoke of hope tempered with regret, but hope nonetheless.

I slowly lowered the violin, exhausted after playing and singing for well over an hour. I looked up at the crowd, fearing what their silence meant. But applause began, softly at first and then building to a standing ovation. I put my violin on its stand, and bowed. The curtain dropped, and I could still hear the crowds' approval clearly. I sat down on the stool, too tired to stand. The manager came over to me with a large glass of water. I gratefully took it from her and slowly sipped it, letting the cool liquid coat my dry mouth and throat.

My performance had gone over far better than I had expected, and that was both a shock and a relief. The Eldar could very well like my music and still hate me. Yet right now, I was too tired to care. I’d done it-- my first solo concert since my return, and that triumph was enough for now. But it wouldn’t last, and I wouldn’t let myself think about it. Tonight was a good night.

I finished the glass and put it on the floor next to the stool. I packed my violin and headed over the wings to meet my wife. She took the violin from me and gave me a hug. “Before you say it, I know I have heard you practise. But I think that was the best performance I have heard you give.”

I grinned and kissed her soundly. “Right now, all I want is to sleep.”

“That will not happen-- everyone has made plans to invade our house.”

I shook my head and followed her out, Tirn behind me. “Let's see… Elrond I can convince I need my sleep. If he orders me to bed--”

“Like a child, Father?” he said, amused, coming up next to us. “No, you can stay up for a couple hours and celebrate.”

I should have known. “Celebrate what? The Eldar liked my music, but will that change anything? No.”

“You do not know that,” Glorfindel said from my other side. “It may change some minds.”

Rather than join the large crowd streaming back into town, we waited backstage until most of them had left. I was no celebrity now, but that mattered little. I was an infamous Kinslayer who just happened to be one of the best Eldarin musicians in existence. There would always be-- and had always been-- people who desired to talk to me after performances. Tonight, I was in no mood to deal with them. Still, there was a small crowd, but my family gathered around me and we ignored them.

We reached our house without being bothered terribly. Tirn was let off-leash and he simply curled up on his bed in the corner of the living room. Our guests spread out while I hurried upstairs to put my violin up, as well as change out of my performance clothing into something more comfortable. When I came back downstairs, Elrond handed me a glass of wine and they toasted me. I leaned against a nearby wall, watching my family and friends mingle.

It was hard to believe that so many people were related to me, or were friends with me. It was even harder to see Vola and Glorfindel tossing jokes back and forth. Elrond and Narmincë were in the kitchen discussing who-knew-what, while Celebrían and Nárë were talking about a new science fiction novel they’d read. Celebrimbor, on the other hand, leaned against the wall next to me. I’d been surprised and grateful he’d come, but then, he was the one member of my biological family to remain in regular contact with me. I really shouldn’t have been surprised to see him, especially because he’d always enjoyed my singing.

“We each have our way of dealing with our choices. I do not think people would have accepted anything less from you than this song cycle.”

“They wouldn't have. You do realize that once people hear that it wasn't bad, I'm going to be requested to perform it all over Valinor?”

My nephew grinned. “Of course. Was that not your plan?”

I shook my head. “I just wanted to perform it, to make people understand. I should have realized that no matter my past, people still want my music.”

“They always will, Uncle.” He sighed and looked at his wine. “Empathy… We may learn it yet. You made a large step forward. I wonder how many will be willing to consider the idea of traveling the Straight Road now?”

He wandered away, joining Glorfindel and Vola's conversation. I stayed against the wall, listening to them talk, the conversations blurring together in a tired haze. Rather than fall asleep standing up, I made my way through the room, talking to people, making it quite clear that I was too tired to socialize. But Vola drew me aside when I reached him.

“Maglor, do you think you could come visit me?”

“Wouldn't it be too dangerous?”

“No. My village is… accommodating. There are several Kinslayers who live there.” He smiled. “Not all the Teleri hate you. We made a choice to forgive your family and followers and we stand by it. I do not need an answer right now, Maglor. Just think about it.”

After I agreed, he rejoined Glorfindel. I wandered up to the bedroom after kissing Narmincë good night. I changed into my sleeping garments and lay in bed, too tired too sleep, and my mind wouldn't stop jumping from topic to topic, always coming back to Vola's proposal. I couldn't make a decision-- I had to talk to Elrond first. With that thought ringing through my mind, I finally fell asleep.

* * * * *

After lunch the next day, Elrond and I talked in my studio. When I told him what Vola proposed, he grew still.

“If you are asking for permission, I give it. Just be careful-- I have been to Vola's village and they are more accepting. If you end up in Alqualondë… I cannot guarantee anything.”

“I don't plan on visiting Alqualondë, Elrond. I want to visit my friend. I know to be careful. Tirn won't be far from me.”

“Tirn may not be enough. But I think you need to do this.”

I nodded and looked at the brilliantly lit, south-facing room. There was so much I had to learn, and Telerin music had always interested me. And, yes, if I could, I would go see the quays. I had to face them eventually, either in nightmares or in person. And better the latter, though the former would always be with me.

After discussing it a little longer, Elrond and I went downstairs. He and Celebrían left after saying their farewells, for they had a longer distance to travel. Glorfindel and his wife had left that morning, going to her parents' house for a long visit. Celebrimbor wouldn't leave for Tirion until the following morning, with Vola traveling with.
I drew Vola aside. “I'll visit, but I don't know when. I believe I will shortly have more things to deal with here than normal.

He grinned and clapped me on the back. “Just let me know when.”

I nodded and he waded back into the conversation between my nephew and friend. I sat down on the bench and slowly stroked Tirn, who leaned against my legs. I watched my friends and family talking and laughing together, feeling a tear make its slow way down my face. This was what I had missed all these millennia. This was what the Oath had destroyed. Only now was I lucky enough to have regained something of what I had lost. I would never regain it all. But I was content with this.