Rise Again From Ashes by Independence1776

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Chapter 6

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Two weeks later, I had become not just a tutor, but a full-fledged teacher at the small school for those wishing to travel to Middle-earth. I wasn't sure what I thought of the work-- it was useful, yes, but it hurt knowing I would not be able to return to the land I had lived in longer than I had in Valinor. I spent my days teaching languages-- mainly English, French, and Spanish-- and the basic history and cultures of the modern world. This early in the half-year course, we had only begun to cover the basics. I was still the secondary teacher, though I tended to be the one people went to for help given my experience.

But outside of classes, people ignored me. I spent time in the Hall of Fire-- both to acclimate myself to groups of Elves and to listen to the music-- but no one sought my company. Tired of being ignored, I stopped going. Because the classes demanded my time, I only watched the warriors practicing once, and Glorfindel wasn't there. I finally withdrew from any activity other than teaching, knowing it wasn't the smartest thing to do but unable to help myself, and just stayed in my house.

I couldn't help but think that if the people in Elrond's house didn't wish to be around me, the rest of Aman would be even more unwelcoming. And I was stuck on Elrond's land unless I wished to face the wrath of the Valar.

So I turned to my music, playing my violin because I had no other instrument that I could easily play with my scarred right hand. I didn't bother to compose anything, for no Elf would want to listen to something that had been influenced over thousands of years by Men. And it would be played on an instrument made by a Man, and no Elf would care that it was a Stradivarius.

Lost in my music, I flinched when something blue flickered at the edge of my vision. I stopped playing and spun around, only relaxing when I realized it was Elrond. I put my violin on the stand next to my desk, loosened the horsehair in the bow, and dropped it on my desk.

“Is there something I can help you with, my lord?” I asked.

“I am sorry for startling you. I knocked, but you failed to hear it.”

“The door was locked.”

My foster son grinned mischievously. “You should have stopped Maedhros from teaching Elros and me to pick locks.”

I laughed, remembering several occasions where they had not considered a locked door to be a hindrance to getting my attention. “Now my question must be: do you carry the tools to do it everywhere?”

He shook his head, the grin still on his face. “Only when I am dealing with my sons when they are in a mischievous mood, or if I suspect that my father will not answer the door.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “What do you want, Elrond?”

He crossed the floor and leaned against the wall. “I am going to Lórien for a couple of weeks. I would like you to come with me.”

I froze, barely breathing. Why? Was I too much of a bother for him? Had I done something to offend him? Was I being punished for not doing something? “My lord…”

“This is not a punishment, Maglor,” he explained, his voice patient. “I just thought you would like to get away from here, given you are not socializing.”

“I'm not adjusting well, in other words.”

“No, you are not. I had not expected this to be easy, which is why I think a couple of weeks in an area where there are no expectations of you would be a good thing. You need to center yourself, Maglor.”

I laughed bitterly. “No expectations? Two Valar live there, Elrond. They expect me to disobey, to do something that will let them lock me in prison and throw away the key.”

I stalked to the eastern window and looked out over the serene rolling hills covered with grass and a scattered flock of sheep. Why could Elrond not simply leave me in peace?

“Father, what is wrong?” Elrond asked.

I continued gazing out the window. “Nothing. Everything is fine; why do you ask?”

“Sarcasm will not help.”

I spun, furious. “It's bad enough that you-- or anyone else-- haven't even bothered to talk to me since the second day I was here! But now you want me to go to Lórien with you? Don't try to be devious, Elrond. It doesn't suit you. You think I'm irreparably broken, and you want the Valar's opinion.” I saw him open his mouth, but cut him off. “Now get out. I don't want to speak with you. Just leave.”

“As you wish.”

I watched him walk out of the room and listened to his steps retreating down the stairs and out the door. I moved to the floor-to-ceiling western window and glimpsed his blue tunic as he strode down the path, head bowed. Once he was out of sight, I turned and sank down, back against the cool glass.

What had I done? Driven away the only person who seemed to care about me. Simple as that. Now the Valar would call me back in front of before them, and I would no longer have a choice in any part of my life. Right now, that wouldn’t bother me in the slightest.

I stood and returned to my violin. Rather than play, I carefully put it and the bow into its nylon-covered hard case and headed out to my balcony. I sat on the wide railing and pulled my hair out of the ponytail in which it had been restrained so it wouldn't get tangled while I played my violin. The wind from the approaching storm blew my hair around my face, but I didn't care. Hair was the least of my worries.

I looked down at the path again and saw Elrond as he crested a hill close to the main house. He didn't even bother to look back, not that I had expected him to. He had done his duty to bring me here. Now I was the Valar's problem.

A short while later, when the sun sank behind the gathering clouds, a voice from the courtyard intruded into my brooding. “You do realize he is worried about you?”

I looked down from my perch on the railing and saw Glorfindel standing with his hands on his hips. “No, he isn't. And if he sent you to talk to me, you can just turn around and go back.”

“I came of my own free will, Maglor son of Fëanor. Now you either come down here or I will come up there, your choice.”

I slipped back onto the balcony. “I'll come down there. Would you like anything to drink?”

He shook his head and I went outside, locking the balcony door and the main door behind me. I sat down on one of the stone benches in the courtyard and waited in silence, not looking at the golden-haired Elf. He sat down next to me, and I finally glanced at him, surprised by his concerned expression.

“He truly is worried. He has helped people adjust to life in Aman before, but I think-- and do not tell him I said this-- he feels helpless now. People who have integrated before have not been reviled. Even the hobbits had a warm welcome, as did Gimli, given who his patron was. But you… You are a Kinslayer, and one of Fëanor's sons. Few expected that you would be allowed to return before the End. Elrond is having a hard time convincing anyone that you are safe.”

“I'm not safe. I'm broken, useless, a scapegoat,” I replied. “You do realize that after our conversation on the hill , this is the longest discussion not related to my duties that I've had? No one wants to talk to me. They avoid me, or walk away, or pretend they didn't hear me speak.” I looked down at my hands. “I should have just stayed in Middle-earth. At least there I had people to talk to.”

“Have you given your neighbors a chance?”

I shook my head. “I don't even know when they're home.”

He nodded. “Once you return from Lórien, I will introduce you.”

"I will not go."

With a soft voice, he said, “So you will disobey an order from your liege lord and face the consequences, for which you will not only answer to Elrond but also to the Valar.”

“I am aware.”

“Maglor, look at me.” When I met his kind eyes, he said, “I care. Elrond cares. He does not want you to suffer unduly. The consequences for disobeying the Valar are severe. You could be imprisoned in Mandos or forced to live in Valimar under the Valar's direct supervision. You could lose the limited freedoms you have, and you may never regain them. The Valar do not trust you. The Elves of Aman do not trust you.”

“Do you think I do not know that? No one trusts me, Glorfindel.”

He smiled. “Elrond does.”

“You don't.”

“No, for I have no reason to. But you can earn it, and you can do the same with most of the others that I have mentioned.”

I gazed out over the sullen gray sea, the day cooling down now that the sun was behind the clouds, though the humidity was growing worse due to the storm. “And how would I gain it?”

“That is up to the individual. I can give you no further advice.”

We sat in silence as the wind picked up, scattering tiny stones and sand across the courtyard. I finally said, “Tell Elrond that I apologize.”

“You will tell him yourself, Maglor. I will not allow you to use me as your go-between.”

“Glorfindel, do you even realize how frightened I am? Going anywhere near the main complex is extremely difficult. It's why I spend my time out here, alone. I cannot trust that I will not be hurt otherwise.”

He eyed me steadily. “Do not let fear master you. I know that you cannot help it right now, but that will come with time. You need to talk to Elrond, Maglor. Do not suffer in silence.”

I nodded, unwilling to give a more affirmative answer. Would Elrond even deign to speak with me after the way I had treated him earlier?

“Come to dinner with me, Maglor. You can talk to him afterward.”

“I'd rather not face a crowd.”

“Fine. We can take food and wine from the kitchen and find a quiet place to share a meal.”

“Why are you even bothering? I thought you didn't trust me.”

“I do not. But you need at least one friend here. I am not including Elrond, for he is both your foster son and liege lord. I truly do not know what the Valar were thinking-- your relationship is complicated enough without adding that into it.”

“And what would you know about needing friends?” I snapped. “Balrog-slayer, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, reborn hero--”

“When I returned to Middle-earth in the Second Age, few would speak with me besides Gil-Galad and Elrond. They did not trust that the Valar had no ulterior motives, that I was not there to judge them for failing to heed the call when the First Age ended.”

I met his eyes. “I'm sorry. I hadn't realized.”

“It is not something I often discuss with others, for there is no reason to. Now, will you eat dinner with me?”

I agreed and we walked off toward the main house.

* * * * *

Three hours later, with rain battering against the windows, I stood outside Elrond's study. Glorfindel squeezed my left shoulder and walked down the hallway to the Hall of Fire, leaving me alone in the dark corridor. Before I could knock, the door opened and Elrond, his expression grave, gestured for me to enter into the well-lit study.

“Sit down, Maglor,” he said as he sat behind his desk, steepling his fingers together and resting his elbows on the surface.

I closed the door behind me and did as directed, fighting the rising panic. “I… I'm sorry for the words I spoke in anger this afternoon.”

“Forgiven. But the sentiment behind them is not. I must apologize myself for neglecting you. I had assumed-- wrongly-- that there would be those who would make an effort to talk to you. Glorfindel would have, had he not been so busy helping Erestor with the preparations for my trip to Lórien.” He smiled faintly. “I have not needed to travel with guards since I left Middle-earth, and it is not simply because you are traveling with me. Reactions against my help in bringing you here have been… varied.”

“And you don't blame me?”

“You needed to come home, Maglor. That is the only reason. Now, back to this afternoon.” All trace of compassion was now gone from his face, and I straightened just a bit more, suddenly reminded of Father when he had lectured me. “I understand the sentiments behind your words and actions. However, you cannot act rudely. I will not tolerate it from anyone. Furthermore,” he said, holding up a finger, silencing me before I could blurt out words in my defense, “others will be far less forgiving of you than I am. More than anyone else in Valinor, you are walking on a very narrow pass with a cliff on either side.

“Maglor, as difficult as this is for me to do, I am ordering you to come to Lórien with me. We will be leaving in three days, and will be gone no longer than two weeks. I will not force you to do anything while we are there, not even talk to me if you do not wish. However, if the Maiar and Valar wish to discuss things with you, I am unable to stop them, though I believe they will respect your desires.”

He leaned forward. “I know this transition is difficult for you, and that I have been less than helpful so far. That will change. If you need to talk to someone, come and find me. If I am unable to talk immediately, I will seek you out as soon as I am. Do you understand?”

“I do, my lord, though I would prefer not to travel to Lórien.”

He half-smiled and said, “There are many things I would prefer not to do, but must.”

“Is there anything else, my lord?”

“No.”

I rose from the chair, unwilling to speak, bowed, and stepped into the gloomy corridor, the thunderstorm still raging. Now where to go? I was in no mood for music, so I ended up in one of the small parlors overlooking the ocean. I sat in a large cushioned chair by the window and watched the waves crash onto the beach, lit by random flashes of lightening. Did Elrond truly think time away from here would help? I half-smiled and placed a hand on the window’s cool glass. And why was he acting paternalistic toward me? It somewhat disconcerted me, and I could not tell if it was conscious or unconscious, given his position as my liege lord. Maybe it was the only way he knew how to bring me out of my shell, and hopefully he would stop once he realized I didn’t need a father.