Rise Again From Ashes by Independence1776

Epilogue

Many, many thanks go to Pandemonium_213 for doing a wonderful job betaing RAFA. This story wouldn't have been nearly as good without her help. I also want to thank everyone who read and reviewed. It was a labor of love and I'm thrilled so many people enjoyed it.

There will be prequels to RAFA, from both Maglor's and Elrond's POVs. I hope to post the former sometime this summer.

The days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, the months into years, and the years into yéni. Friends visited, and ones from the First Age renewed their acquaintances. Mother came by on a regular basis so I wouldn’t have to break my restrictions, and we grew closer as time went by. She didn’t want to ignore her only living son more than she already had. I composed other works, many-- but not all-- received with praise. I eventually wrote a series of twelve books detailing the history of Middle-earth, which were widely read. A few loremasters considered it the direct cause of more of the Eldar traveling there. Celebrimbor and I collaborated on a project to translate the music formats of mortals to those playable on Eldarin machinery, though that solidly confirmed to some people that the House of Fëanor was insane, as most still had no desire to listen to it. Most importantly, Narmincë and I had been gifted with our first child, a boy I named Amdir. It had been a surprise to many, who had assumed that we never wanted children or that Narmincë was too old to bear one. He was nothing but a joy to us, save when he got into trouble as children were wont to do, and even then, he just reminded me of the hijinks my brothers and I or Elrond and Elros had gotten up to.

One afternoon just over six years since his begetting, I was in my studio, teaching him a song on his harp, when someone knocked on my door. I answered it after motioning for him to continue playing, only to find my wife, her face pale, on the other side. “There’s a visitor for you in the living room.”

I hurried downstairs, coming to a sudden stop when I saw exactly who was waiting for me: Eönwë, clad once again in his formal herald's uniform, though this time, he wasn't angry. He handed me a sealed parchment and disappeared with a crack of air. It obviously wasn't terrible news because he hadn't remained to see my reaction. I broke the seal and opened it.

Maglor Fëanorion,
Come to the Máhanaxar at noon on the thirty-fifth of lairë.
The Elder King

I reread the missive and sat heavily on the couch. Three weeks. But I couldn't figure out what I had done-- I had followed the strictures. I sighed. I could not ignore the order, but I was tired of the Valar’s interference, even though the last time I had been in their presence was after the incident in Alqualondë. I had lived knowing they were watching me from afar, and now they had summoned me for no reason. And I would have to go to find out why. I returned to my studio and handed my wife the letter. She read it and shook her head, leaving the room muttering about how hard it was to travel on short notice with a child. I put the letter on my desk, and rejoined my son. I would worry, but music would let me ignore it, and teaching my son would help even more.

* * * * *

Three weeks later, I grimly greeted my family and friends who had gathered in support, ignoring the rather large crowd that had followed us from the city. I hugged Narmincë and Amdir farewell and stepped into the ring, nervous but not showing it. The Valar, wearing their customary inscrutable expressions, acknowledged my bow with nods.

Manwë spoke. “Maglor Fëanorion, we have called you here today for one purpose: to release you from your strictures.”

I blinked. I had to have misheard him.

Mandos intoned, “Thy full pardon we now give you. Thy strictures are ended. Thou are once more a Lord of the Eldar and a Prince of the Noldor. Thou are the head of your House, and are no longer in Lord Elrond's service. Ye shall be allowed to carry weapons where ye wishes. Ye shall abide by the laws of Valinor as thy fellow citizens do.” He looked sternly at me. “Thou has the full responsibilities of a free life. Carry them well.”

I stared at the Doomsman and the Elder King in shock. “I hadn't expected this.”

“That is why we give it to you,” Nienna said softly.

I turned my head to look at her. “Thank you,” I said, though such was too shallow to convey my gratitude-- and my relief. After this, I was truly free. No more looking over my shoulder, or worrying if I was breaking the letter or spirit of a stricture, or having to go unarmed. No more would I wonder if things were about to fall apart because an enemy lied. Now my return truly was a second chance.

I remained where I stood, as I was not yet dismissed. Manwë smiled and Aulë appeared between us (I hadn’t even noticed him leaving), holding a sword. He offered it to me, hilt-first. I slowly took it from him, unsure as to why this was happening. The Vala resumed his seat, and I unsheathed the blade to examine it. The steel was finely tempered, forged with the best quality steel I had seen in Ages, and utterly beautiful. Studying the craftsmanship that went into it, I knew that Aulë himself had forged it. The hilt was comfortable in my left hand and the balance perfect. The telling point was that the blade had an edge-- this was no decorative weapon. To be given a usable sword by the Valar after everything I had done was nearly inconceivable. I ran my right index finger over the First Age Quenya inscription that read, simply, Forgiven. I then sheathed the sword and bowed deeply before belting it around my waist.

The Elder King said, “Bear it well, Maglor son of Fëanor.”

“I will.”

I half-expected him to say something further about responsibility and trust, but he didn’t, probably because he knew he didn’t need to. The Valar disappeared with the usual crack of air, and I strode out of the Máhanaxar. Narmincë ran to greet me, our son racing ahead of her. I tossed him into the air and hugged him before putting him back on the ground. He was too big now to carry comfortably. Narmincë kissed me and took my hand as we walked back to the group waiting for us.

Elrond’s eyebrow rose when I stopped in front of him. “A sword?”

I grinned. “My strictures have ended.”

He laughed when my stomach growled. “It’s about time. Also, you need to eat. Let’s go back to the inn. You can tell everyone what happened then.”

I nodded and we walked down the road, the crowd of strangers parting to let us through. I caught many of them staring at my sword, and couldn’t help but smirk. They’d be able to guess well enough what it meant. Once at the inn, I hurried up to my family’s suite and put the sword on the desk before checking on Tirn. I knelt next to his bed, and stroked him for a minute or so. I hadn’t wanted to leave him at home, but he was too old to walk the distance to the Máhanaxar, so I’d left him to nap in the inn. “I don’t know what I’d’ve done without you, Tirn. Come on; let’s get some food.”

He jumped up, tail wagging. I rinsed my hands off after attaching the leash and headed downstairs. After a long meal explaining and talking through the implications of everything, Glorfindel asked, “So what are you going to do with the sword?”

I put down my cutlery and frowned slightly. “I think I’m going to hang it on the wall of the living room, above the fireplace. Wearing it on the road home will be sufficient notice, and I don’t need to carry a sword on a day-to-day basis, though I will carry a dagger now. It’s mostly a symbolic gesture.” I glanced at everyone’s faces before explaining further. “The Valar know I won’t do anything, but more importantly, I know I won’t. The sword… It’s the ending of a very long part of my life. This time, I can start anew, not forgetting the past, but no longer allowing it to dominate my future.”

Elrond raised his glass in toast. “To the future, then.”

I smiled at everyone, and especially at my wife and sons. “To the future.”