Rise Again From Ashes by Independence1776

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Chapter 4

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Celebrían and I made our way back to the main house in silence. Elrond greeted us at the door, and his wife ascended the stairs. The half-Elf appraised me and smiled.

“I am glad the clothes fit. Come, we need to talk.”

He turned and walked down the hallway to a room that his wife had pointed out as his study during her tour. I slipped into the room after him and closed the door behind me. I sat down in one of the leather seats in front of the desk and looked around the room in silence while he poured water into two glasses and handed one to me as he sat down behind his desk. His study was sparsely furnished, but filled with bookcases, with the only decoration -- save carving along the edges of the bookcases and desk -- a mural depicting a scene of a deep valley at dusk with a lit house at the bottom.

“Tonight, as is my custom for any guest or when someone chooses to join my household, there will be a feast. You are the guest of honor.”

“My lord--”

Elrond smiled gently, “Fear not, Father. Little has changed in regards to protocol. As for your being here, there is no point in hiding. People have seen you walking about with my wife, and they would wonder why there was not a feast.”

“I'm a Fëanorion, Elrond. Few will want to see me so honored.”

“Do you truly think that my leadership of the only remaining realm of the Noldor in the Third Age meant that there were no Kinslayers in my household? Or that I do not know how to deal with the ancient prejudices? You did not know this, Maglor, but I have defended you since my arrival on Tol Eressëa. Not all your actions-- that I cannot do-- but those that make you better than some wish to remember you.

“I am well aware of much of the sentiment regarding your arrival in Valinor. It used to be an intellectual exercise for those wishing to become involved in politics to imagine what would happen if your father or your brothers were released from Mandos, because it served to highlight the differences among the Elves. It is now a moot point-- it has become reality.” Elrond stood up and started pacing back and forth in front of the bookcases at the back of the room. “Father, your life here will be difficult. You have to adjust to a new way of life, in a culture that is both familiar and foreign. There will be conflicts, even here. I love you as a father, and Celebrían wishes to know the one who raised me.”

“And what does Galadriel think of that?” I asked, leaning back in my chair and taking a sip of water.

He smiled a little and said, “She has said nothing. However, I made a point to notify no one that you were coming with me back to Valinor. She knows by now, but given her history with the Valar, she may be more sympathetic than most will guess.”

I nodded. “Elrohir?”

“The same as his brother: they wish to know their grandfather. As for the feast tonight, you have to do nothing but sit there. I do expect you to stay in the Hall of Fire after the meal for a little while only. I do not think you will be comfortable among so many in an unstructured environment.”

“Is that why my house is as far away as it is?”

“For your privacy, yes. I had assumed you wished for peace.”

“Though I do have neighbors.”

He nodded. “Of course. My lands are not so large that everyone can be out of earshot of everyone else.”

“Where do your lands end, my lord?”

“Thirteen miles to the south from here, and seven to the east. South of here is a Silvan kingdom, settled mainly by those from Greenwood the Great. East is free land for several leagues, until the small forest begins. That belongs to those from Legolas Thranduilion's Ithilien colony. He still rules there, and visits here occasionally.”

“His father?”

“Rules a land further south. Now, we should head to the feast.” He looked at me sternly. “I will not allow you to avoid this.”

I sighed and nodded. “I live here-- I cannot avoid people forever. May as well do it with your obvious support.”

“As if anything I do in regards to you could be construed differently. Maglor, you truly have no idea the troubles I have suffered because of you.”

“You didn't have to,” I said quietly. “I deserve the hatred and contempt.”

“You also deserve love, Maglor. I cannot forget the kindness you showed by raising my brother and me.”

I snapped, “A kindness only needed because I drove your mother away and murdered those in the town.” I stopped at the look on his face and sighed. “This is as hard for you as it is for me, Elrond. I do not think now is the time to discuss this.”

“In that, you are right, Father.”

Together, we headed out of the room and to the dining hall. I stayed behind him as we made our way to the table on the dais. I sat down where indicated-- between a golden-haired Noldo who introduced himself as Glorfindel and Elrond himself-- and looked around the crowded room.

The west window looked out over the gardens leading to the ocean, letting in the light of the setting sun. Three long tables stretched before the dais, crowded with people. To my surprise, most were merely glancing curiously at me, although a few were openly staring. I recognized none of the faces, save for the members of Elrond's family. Elrohir was too busy discussing something with Erestor, though I suspected it to be a continuation of their earlier argument given the way Elrond was looking at them. Celebrían was seated between her son and her husband, and she gave me a brilliant smile when I caught her eyes. Maybe this feast wouldn't be so bad after all.

As it turned out, it wasn't, though it wasn't the most pleasant one I'd ever been to. Thankfully, though, it was far more casual than any that I had been forced to attend in Tirion. Elrond tried to engage me in conversation a few times, but I was more content to listen than talk. Glorfindel made a point of politely greeting me, as well as asking a few questions about inconsequential things, but he wasn't overly friendly. And I hadn't expected him to be, once I found out who he was. So, I listened to the conversations about the upcoming harvest, the somewhat dry weather, the ongoing argument between Erestor and Elrohir, antics of children, and the other day-to-day doings of a large household.

It was such a large contrast to the last few gatherings of the Eldar I had attended that I couldn't help but marvel. Then, our main concerns were battle plans and the protection of those not fighting. Now, domestic issues took precedence. There was no concern for safety. This was Valinor, after all. But I couldn't help but be conscious of the fact that my safety was not guaranteed. I made yet another addition to the mental list I was keeping of things to discuss with Elrond.

Finally, the feast concluded and the majority of the crowd gathered in the Hall of Fire. I stood along the back wall, as far from the central fire pit as possible. Elrond made no special mention of me and instead just sat in on a bench next to his wife and listened to the music. I stayed for a few songs -- enough to realize that Lindir was one of the best Noldorin singers I had heard -- before catching Lord Elrond's eyes . He smiled sympathetically and nodded. Now given permission to leave, I smiled back at him and slipped out of the hall. Once in the empty hallway, and out of the view of the Eldar, I was able to relax slightly, though I wouldn't be able to do so fully until I reached the safety of my house. There, I could lock the door and guarantee my privacy.

But I didn't even make it out of the main house before someone grabbed my arm.

“You should not be here, Kinslayer. This place is too good for such as yourself,” said the Sinda, clad in a light blue tunic with a stylized numen emblazoned on its right shoulder.

I raised an eyebrow at him and kept my voice low and controlled. “Possibly. But the Valar remanded me into Lord Elrond's custody. I am not here by choice -- though if I would have had it, I would be-- and you have no right to punish me further.”

The Sinda jerked his head towards me and his two friends stepped up, crowding me against the wall. “If you put even one toe out of line --”

“The Valar will make sure I do not do so again. I am well aware that I am in Valinor on sufferance. I take full responsibility for my actions. I do not deny what happened nor my part in it.”

“And I hope you continue to do so,” he sneered and finally released his painful grip on my arm.

I refrained from rubbing it as I opened the door and made my way to the path leading back to my house. Only when I was out of sight did I do so, and I knew that I would have bruises. I slipped along the path, listening to the rise and fall of the waves to my right. That was something I would have to become used to again, given I hadn't lived by the seashore for centuries. I glanced up at the cloudless night and then back down at the gravel path to keep from slipping. At last, I reached the house Elrond had given me and went inside, locking the door behind me.

I headed upstairs and uncovered one of the floor lamps in the corner. Leaving the lit lamp where it was, I placed the other next to the desk. I then changed out of my formal outfit into my nightshirt, walked to the western window, and leaned my head against the cool glass.

What was I doing here? Yes, the Valar had made quite certain that I would be in the one household sympathetic to me, but beyond that? I didn't know. After all, why should I? I had expected to be imprisoned in Mandos. And it wasn't Elrond I was worried about. Although we would have to talk about some difficult subjects, I knew it would not much change his opinion of me. It was everyone else, including his family, who concerned me. Celebrían was a wonderful woman, but how long would her kind regard of me continue to last? His twin sons, one of whom was in Middle-earth and would not be returning for years, were another worry. How much were they pretending for their father's sake?

I stepped onto the balcony and watched the waves crashing on the shore, spraying salty water into the air. It wasn't even Elrond's family who worried me most. How could I face the population of Aman? Elven memory is not perfect-- which is a blessing at times-- but it is remarkably vivid. And the memories of the Darkening and Rebellion… Those were all things my presence would dredge up.

Was it worth it? I leaned against the railing and undid my braid, letting the wind whip my hair around. Compared to my life in Middle-earth, everything here was uncertain. There I had plans, though they generally culminated in my moving every few years. I had friends, though I allowed none of them to get close to me. And I was alone. But here? I didn't have to hide that I wasn't mortal. I didn't have to worry about moving. I had friends, though I didn't know if any would be willing to talk to me. I closed my eyes and sighed. Especially Telepevola, who had been my closest friend for years. Why would he want to have anything to do with me? After all, I had killed him on the quays of Alqualondë. Others, those whom I knew in Middle-earth, possibly.

That brought up another question: how many had been released from Mandos? And did they truly have to bear no grudge against those still living in order to be released, as Elrond had told me? Would the Teleri accept me on Aman? Would anyone besides Elrond?

I stared up at the brilliant stars, twinkling in the moonless night. I had no answer for any of my questions. Some of them, I doubted I ever would. It was long after midnight before I sought my bed, and even then, sleep was elusive because there was little I could do to calm my raging mind. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep, lulled by the sound of birds heralding the false dawn.