Rise Again From Ashes by Independence1776

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Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

It was another few hours, nearing midday, when Elrond finally turned off the road and guided the horse along a winding drive. The landscape had changed the nearer we came to the Sea, the hills becoming less steep though no less tall. The vegetation, especially near the shoreline, changed into scrub in some places, forests of pine in others. Yet throughout, there were still stands of maple and chestnut, ash and oak. Tall grasses waved in the salty breeze blowing in from the ocean. Out on the water, near the horizon, I could see a three-masted ship slowly coming towards shore.

The dirt track that the cart traveled on was smooth and carefully maintained. It dipped occasionally into hollows between the rounded hills, but for the most part, the scenery was spectacular. Rolling hills were covered in grains and other crops, left to lie fallow, or covered with waving grasses. Houses of various sizes were scattered around, some nestled in the hollows, others built on top of hills, others into them. Straight ahead was the main house, nestled low against the crest of the hill. It was made of soft golden sandstone, blending into the landscape. Wide windows on the ground floor were open, obviously to let the breeze cool the interior. The upper two floors also had windows open, and there were a few people scattered here and there on the balconies, working or relaxing in the heat of the day.

One woman walking alongside of the track with a basket of cloth on her back waved at us as we passed. Elrond returned her greeting and turned off at the small courtyard in the back of the house. Several people-- two of whom were arguing -- awaited us. Elrond stopped the horse and leapt out of the cart, lifting a silver-haired woman and spinning her around before kissing her. I slowly climbed down, somewhat stiff and conscious of the stares. I glanced at Elrond, uncertain of my welcome. He took his wife's arm and escorted her to me. She smiled, a dimple appearing on her left cheek.

“Celebrían, may I have the honor of presenting Maglor son of Fëanor?”

“It is my pleasure,” she said, meeting my eyes. “Welcome home.”

I bowed to her. “My lady.”

She laughed and removed her arm from Elrond's. “I'll show you around. I think my husband will be too busy dealing with Elrohir and Erestor to do so.”

At that, Elrond sighed, smiled at me, and strode toward to the dark-haired two men standing in the shade of the house arguing about ships and docks. Celebrían took my arm and led me out of the courtyard into the house. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the relative dimness indoors.

“Do not worry about your belongings-- they'll be transferred to your quarters. Now, this is the main house. When my sons and their families are staying here, it can become rather hectic.”

I snorted. “If they were half as bad as their father, my lady--”

Celebrían grinned wickedly. “Do tell. He has remained stubbornly mute on several things. And my name is Celebrían, not 'my lady'.”

I laughed. “Later, please. Right now, I'd rather learn my way around so I don't become hopelessly lost.”

“As you wish. But I will hold you to that promise.”

She then led me through the house, pointing out the main dining room, the Hall of Fire-- a tradition from Imladris-- and several other areas of interest. I remained quiet, preferring to listen to her speak so I could take in the environment. Almost every room had a view of the ocean or of the fields and hills behind the house. The furniture was mostly of carved pine and other local woods. Decorations consisted mainly of driftwood, shells, and other such things, though there were paintings and statues scattered around.

She pointed toward one of the many staircases. “Upstairs are living quarters. My family's are on the south side of the third floor, and guest rooms are on the north. The second floor are suites for families for those wishing, for whatever reason, to live in the main house.”

“Are there other living quarters?”

“There are small houses scattered here and there. Those who work outdoors tend to live in the ones closest to their areas of work. Unlike Imladris, we have room to spread out here.”

I nodded, slightly confused. Just how small had Imladris been? I knew it was founded as a refuge, but it had been one of the main Elven settlements of the Third Age.

“Furthermore, some of the things that were cramped in Imladris have their own buildings now. The infirmary is one of them-- Elrond formed a small school-- but the library is his pride and joy. It has one of the largest collections of books in this area of Aman.”

“May I see it?”

She looked shocked. “Where did you think we were going next? I have the feeling I may have to assign the page who retrieves Elrond from his books to do the same for you.”

I raised my hands and said, “I did not know. And that is a distinct possibility, my lady. I fear there is too little I know about Valinoran history.”

“Ah… Yes, that will be an issue. You may not understand some of the books, though,” she said as she led me outside and down a wide stone path, covered with an arbor to block the sun, to a large, multistoried building nearby. “I know you can speak modern Sindarin and Quenya, but can you read them?”

“Of course. But I fear you're talking about books written in the intermediate versions.”

She nodded and pulled open the wood door with bronze inlays. “Someone will be willing to translate them for you, but it would do you better to learn the languages.”

I looked around. Marble of various colors formed the entryway and a dark-haired Sinda seated behind a large desk to the left looked up. “So this is the new resident. Welcome to the library, Fëanorion.”

I greeted him politely and followed Lady Celebrían into the stacks. I felt the Sinda watching me until we turned the corner.

“This floor is the general collection-- mostly fiction and poetry on this side; music on the other. The next two floors are the histories. The second floor is of the First through Third Ages; the third Fourth Age on. There is a small archive on the second floor devoted to Middle-earth history, but few people bother with it.” She shrugged and headed up the stairs. “The Amanyar tend to think it is of little importance.”

“I don't.”

She turned and looked at me. “Amanyar you may be, Exile you are more. But you are correct-- I should have said those Elves born in Valinor after the Third Age ended.” She led me to a small section of the history books. “These are the general histories- the Quenta Silmarillion, the Ring Wars, History of Tol Eressëa through the Sixth Age, and others. I think you'd better start off with the Quenta-- it covers what happened in Aman during that period-- Tol Eressëa, and the Valinoran History series.”

I crouched next to the shelf, removing the first book she had mentioned, but not before the volume next to it caught my eye. I looked up at Celebrían with a small smile. “And Tolkien's Silmarillion is good enough to stand next to Elvish works?”

“Elrond insisted, though he did make a note in the front saying that due to it being Mannish, some things-- notably the creation myths-- were wrong.”

“I wouldn't know-- I've never read it.”

She nodded, unconcerned. “I did not think you had. But have you read The Lord of the Rings?”

“Only after your husband told me it was accurate.” I hesitated and finally decided not to say anything about Arwen. “Now, do I have to read them here or can I take them to wherever I'm living?”

“The latter. You check them out at the front desk, but there is no hurry to return them unless one of the library staff notifies you otherwise.”

I pulled the other books she had mentioned from the shelves, and carried them back to the desk. The Sinda made a point of not touching me, nor did he meet my eyes during the entire transaction. On our way out, though, a small painting in an alcove caught my eye. I walked over and studied it and closed my eyes. Why did he have to be so arrogant? Why couldn't he have been content with inventing the Tengwar and other works? For that was what the painting was -- a young Father sitting at a desk, quill in hand, with one of Rúmil's books propped open above the paper upon which he was writing his new Tengwar script.

I turned away from the painting and walked out of the library, books under my arms. Celebrían quietly followed me out. I turned to her and asked, “Why?”

“You will have to ask my husband.”

“I fear I will have to ask him a great many things.”

“Undoubtedly. Now, would you like to see where you will be living?”

I nodded and followed her down a path that wound along the crest of the same hill the main house was on. Confused, I asked, “Am I not to live in the main house?”

She looked back at me, silver hair glinting the sun, and smiled. “Elrond hoped that the Valar would not imprison you. If you had not been remanded into his custody but were yet free, he would have asked you to come live here at the House. So, with that hope, he had one of the small houses opened. The last people who lived here moved out over twelve years ago, and no one was interested in moving into it. You will have to ask him for more specifics.”

“Why did no one want to move in?”

“It is rather far away, and also rather small.”

I nodded, still not convinced that I wanted to live away from Elrond, but we did end up walking a fair distance, up and down several hills, before the path ended in a gravel-filled courtyard at the top of yet another hill. The building before me was small and made of a pale gray stone that gleamed dully in the afternoon light. A wooden balcony wrapped around the second floor, as the courtyard did around the ground floor. The courtyard itself had several flowers arranged in pots, mostly for accent color, since the focus-- at least on this side of the house-- was on the ocean.

Celebrían cleared her throat, and turning my attention back to her, I followed her indoors. Thanks to the large windows in all but the north wall, there was no need for a lamp at this time of day. I studied the living room, noting the placement of the simply carved furniture whose cushions were a pale blue. Rather than shells and driftwood, smooth colored pebbles-- either scattered across a flat surface or in various containers-- were the chief decoration. The floor was tiled a darker shade of blue, save in the small living area, where it was a darker shade of the same pale wood as that of the furniture. I put the books down on a low table and snorted with amusement at the odd hybrid of styles: it looked like a Noldorin home trying to be Telerin. But I didn't mind-- I had spent much time in Alqualondë and rather liked the simplicity.

The kitchen appliances were situated on the north wall with a small rectangular table under the window on the south. A north wall also hid the bathroom and the stairwell. Rather than explore the kitchen-- I would have to ask how to use the strange-looking tan appliances-- I headed upstairs.

Steep stairs climbed along the north wall. A small window about the middle of the staircase provided light for them, given there was a closed door at the top. I opened it and walked into the single bedroom. A large picture window showed the grand western view of the water glinting in the afternoon sunlight. I turned and looked at the rest of the bedroom proper. A small bed-- only large enough for one- was flush against the far wall. A nightstand stood next next to it. A low dresser and a tall wardrobe completed the furnishings, all made of the same pale wood as the furniture in the lower level of the house. The rest of the room was bare, save for a desk nestled in the southwestern corner. Large windows looked both east and west, but the largest was on the south wall, so there would be light throughout the day. Two covered floor lamps stood in the southeastern corner of the room, but I wouldn't move them until nightfall, so I would know the best locations for them. I unlocked the door in the western wall and stepped out onto the balcony, leaving the door open behind me. I leaned against the white railing and let the breeze blow my loose hair around.

“Do you like it?” Celebrían asked from behind me.

“It's lovely. But why all the way out here?” I turned around. “The truth, this time.”

“I told you the truth before, Maglor,” she said coldly. But her voice lightened as she continued, “Elrond thought you would appreciate the privacy. There is a red lampstone in the drawer of the nightstand in case of an emergency. Just place it on the stand”-- she pointed to a small sconce attached to the northernmost post of the balcony-- “and someone will see it. There are other houses nearby, so you are not entirely alone.”

I smirked and said, “Just the farthest away from the household. Is he truly that ashamed?”

“The question is: are you?”

I raised my eyebrow at Galadriel's daughter. “That isn't something I feel comfortable talking about.”

She laughed and said, “No, you are just being your father's son right now.” I blinked and she shook her head, “I suggest we return to the main house. Dinner will be served soon.”

I grimaced at my travel-stained Mannish clothes. “I fear that I do not have any appropriate clothing.”

She smiled and said, “There should be a formal outfit in the wardrobe. I'll be downstairs.”

She padded down the stairs, and I heard the faint squeak of chair when she sat down. I sighed, wishing I could spend the evening along, and walked over to the wardrobe, pulling out a forest green tunic with silver embroidery along the hems and a pair of black trousers. I found no footwear, so I would have to wear my boots. I walked downstairs and into the bathroom, ignoring Celebrían who waited patiently for me. I swiftly washed up, changed, and pulled my hair into a tight braid. I looked at myself in the mirror, tucking a stray strand of hair behind an ear. It would do for now.