Rise Again From Ashes by Independence1776

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Chapter 8

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I groaned in pain when I woke up the next morning. I sat up, brushed back my tousled hair back from my face with my good hand, and looked for Elrond. My shoulders slumped when I realized it was only Culárë in the room, but he was already coming to me, holding something in his hand and carrying a glass of water. I thanked him and took the painkiller, hoping it would start to work soon. He returned to where he had been working at his desk before he realized I had woken up. I smiled to myself, remembering the last time I had broken a bone, knowing I couldn't risk going to a hospital. Then, I had to make do with a bottle of ibuprofen.

I was interrupted from contemplating how I was supposed to untangle the blankets with only one hand without falling over when Elrond walked through the open doorway, talking with one of the guards. He smiled when he saw me, and excused himself. He came over to me and took the sling off to examine my arm.

“If you are careful, you should be able to remove the sling tomorrow. For now, you need to wear it.”

“And if I want to shower?”

“Use a washcloth. I do not want to redo the splints because you got the bandages wet.”

I grimaced. “My hair?”

He sighed and said, “I will help you wash it tomorrow. I do not have the time this morning.”

I muttered, “So I'm supposed to go to this meeting looking like--”

“You are not going.” At my astonished look, he said, “I would rather not have you in a position of weakness, especially if you think you will need to defend yourself. No, you may stay here.”

I smiled at him, relaxing and saying, “Thank you,” even though it wasn’t enough to convey my relief.

Elrond left the sling off so I could quickly wash myself, but he put it back on once I had dressed. It made eating rather awkward, so I ended sitting on the couch with the plate on one of its arms. One of the guards came over to me and apologized for breaking my arm. I accepted it, and made sure to mention to him that it was my fault for running away in the first place. Finally, the seven of them left the building and headed to the building deeper in the garden where the talks were being held.

I paced around a little, wanting to go outside into the mild, sunny day, but knowing that Elrond had forbidden me from doing so. Although he probably wouldn't know if I did, I would not test his strained patience. So I picked up the Quenta, sat back on the couch, and started reading about Father's trial after he threatened Uncle Fingolfin. It was difficult, not the least because with every word, I was coming closer to the Darkening and the foul Oath. At the same time, I was remembering it quite clearly: Father's humiliation and anger, the displeasure of the Valar when they discovered the root cause of the unrest, Uncle's attempt at peace, and much else. And then there was the bias against Father… Pengolodh had not liked the House of Fëanor.

I had only read a few pages when someone knocked on the front door. I glared at the door, since I could see it from where I was seated. Probably someone who hadn't realized that Elrond had already left, and I was determined to ignore it. Whoever it was would figure it out soon enough. But the person knocked again. Annoyed by persistence of whomever rapped on the door, I tucked the leather bookmark back in, and levered myself off the couch. I shuffled to the door, not wanting to talk to anyone, even if it was only pleasantries. I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, attempting to set a somewhat pleasant look on my face before I opened the door.

Only to find Lord Irmo on the other side.

I felt the blood drain out of my face and I involuntarily stepped back. Why was he here? No, never mind that, I knew why. But how had he found out about my attempt to leave his realm? I gulped, trying to regain my composure, and gestured the short but imposing Vala inside. I closed the door behind him and followed him into the room I had just left. He sat down on the couch and patted the cushion next to him.

“Please sit down, Maglor.” When I made no move to do so, he said firmly, “Now.”

I promptly did so, shoving my book out of the way. Rather than look at him, I stared at the floor. Lord Irmo sighed and I finally glanced up at him.

“Maglor, you cannot run away from your troubles here. I know it saved your life on Middle-earth a multitude of times, but this is not Middle-earth.”

I whispered, “I know. It's impossible for me to not know that.”

“Then why are you so scared?”

I looked down at my hand. “Everyone is watching me, hoping to catch me in a mistake that will get me imprisoned.”

“Everyone?”

I lifted my head and met his bright blue eyes. “Everyone. Including you, for how else could you know of the altercation and its aftermath?”

Damn the Vala and his amused eyes. “It happened in Lórien. Do you truly expect me not to know what occurs in my domain?” At the look on my face, he sobered. “We do not have Maiar following you around, Maglor. We trust Elrond-- and we trust you to keep to the strictures. If we did not, you would be living in Valimar or on Taniquetil.”

“Not Mandos?” I whispered, shocked.

Lord Irmo shook his head. “My brother deals with the dead. Melkor was only imprisoned there so he could not escape. You would not be able to leave Valimar, for you are not one of the Ainur.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because the Elder King asked me to make it clear to you that your actions are not acceptable. There is no cause-- yet-- to remove you from Elrond's House, but we will if need be.” His face lost a bit of its severity. “Maglor, people are willing to give you a chance given that we did not imprison you. If you betray that trust, you will never regain it.”

“I will never gain anyone's trust.”

“You have Elrond's. But we have lost the topic of conversation. Why are you so afraid?”

“I cannot trust that no one will hurt me. While in Elrond's presence, I am safe enough. Outside of it, even on his lands, I am not. I fear that if I attend any of the meetings, aside from derailing them, that I will be harmed.”

“That is not the whole.”

I whispered, “I am not worthy to be here. I know my crimes have been pardoned, but not forgiven. Not by the Elves. And though you may be the rulers of this land, I do not interact with the Ainur on a daily basis. I have to live among those who despise me, who hate me, who think I should be in Mandos, who wish I had remained in Middle-earth. Valinor is not the blissful land it once was, and it never will be again. As Elrond said, I am walking along a narrow pass. One misstep and I will fall.”

“Have you tried to talk to Elrond about this?”

I half-smirked. “He didn't listen. He has a higher view of the Eldar than I do.”

“Or he may know them better.” I met Irmo's eyes again, his expression having softened further. “He has, after all, only lived here for the past few thousand years.”

I snorted, knowing he was right but not quite ready to admit it. After all, why trust my cynical view of Elven nature? I was just an Exile, a Kinslayer, and a Fëanorion.

“Have you bothered to talk to others of Elrond's House?”

“I tried,” I said quietly. “But they don't respond.”

Irmo nodded. “Many will wait to see what you will do. Some will not. Your actions will speak louder than your words. Now, what do you plan on doing?”

“Today? Or about the other Elves?”

“The former. I cannot tell you what to do about the latter, as I am not an Elf.” He smiled and said dryly, “And we Valar do not have a good record in dealing with your House.”

I stared at the Vala, biting back laughter. That was one of the greatest understatements I had ever heard. Finally, I replied, “Reading. I am unable to do much with my arm the way it is.”

“I noticed,” he said, glancing at my bandaged arm. He then asked, “Do you have enough painkillers?” I shook my head. “I will have Olórin bring some to you.”

He stood up and I did as well, bowing slightly and sincerely. “Thank you, my lord.”

He smiled and left the building, closing the door behind him. I sank back onto the couch, stunned. I wasn't in serious trouble with the Valar over my behavior, but I had been warned. How many more chances would I be given? I knew better than to ask, since it would likely depend on the severity of the transgression. It seemed as if Lord Irmo took my concerns about my safety more seriously than did Elrond. But Elrond wasn't unconcerned. Was that why he had me come to Lórien? Was he truly that worried about my safety without his presence? Or was he trying to calm my fears? I ran the fingers of my good hand over the smooth cover of the Quenta. I did not know, and suspected he would not tell me if I asked.

Only a few minutes later, a Maia clad in white appeared in front of me, holding a small glass bottle. He handed it to me, smiling. “Do you require anything else?”

I shook my head, but then changed my mind. “I’m unable to open the window, and I’m forbidden to leave the building.”

Olórin said, “Fresh air would be good.” Once he opened one, he turned back to me. “Do not be afraid of mercy, Maglor. It has been granted to you.”

“I’m not afraid of it. Just what may happen if people change their minds.”

“Ah. I cannot tell you ‘do not worry’, for that is a valid fear. But why doubt Elrond or the Ainur? We know what you did, and we chose to recieve you back nonetheless. You are truly welcome here, Maglor. Do not forget that.”

Before I could say anything, he disappeared. I looked at the bottle and smiled. Now I wouldn't have to suffer if the painkiller I had been given that morning wore off before anyone returned. And both Lord Irmo and Olórin had given me much to think about.

* * * * *

I ate a solitary lunch, but I didn't mind, enjoying the absence of others and the sounds of rustling leaves and birds singing coming through the open window. I returned to reading the Quenta, forcing myself to read what was said about the Oath. Only after twilight fell did Elrond and the others return. I heard the guards clattering around in the other room, taking off their weapons and armor, while someone shut the bathroom door. When Elrond emerged from the bathroom, I stood up and took a few steps toward him. “I apologize for my earlier behavior.”

He smiled with what appeared to be relief and gestured to the couch. “Apology accepted, Father. Now let me see that arm.”

I sat back down. After he was satisfied with the progress of healing-- the bruises and swelling had disappeared-- he leaned against the cushion behind him.

“That bad?”

He snorted. “You will find out tomorrow.”

I shakily breathed in. “Elrond, I can't.”

“Yes, you can. No one will hurt you.”

“But you can't keep an eye on me constantly. And the guards--”

“Are there for show. One will be assigned to surreptitiously keep an eye on you.”

I stood up and paced up and down the room, ignoring the curious look Culárë gave me when he sat down next to Elrond. I couldn't. I couldn't do this. I refused to become entangled in Valinoran politics only a few weeks after my arrival. I couldn't face the Avari. I couldn't face whoever else was going to be there. I couldn't. It was going to cause more trouble than Elrond could foresee.

My foster son grabbed my shoulders, jerking me out of my racing thoughts.

“Breathe.” I glared at him, but started taking deep breaths. Once he saw I had started calming, he led me to my bed and sat me down. “Maglor, I am not asking you to attend the talks themselves. I just want you nearby.”

“Why? This isn't nearby enough?”

Elrond shook his head, but then scrutinized me. He frowned and finally said, “This is not just a simple worry, is it?” I shook my head, unable to explain. Elrond rubbed his face with his left hand before turning to Culárë. “Would you please leave the room? Maglor and I need to talk in private.”

The Elf immediately left, closing the door behind him, though I could hear him knocking on the guards' door. Once Elrond was certain we were alone, he sat next to me.

I looked at him and said, “I don't know. One moment I'm fine, the next I'm not. I can't handle the thought of being around large groups of people, Elrond. Not now. Not this soon.” Not ever, I thought to myself.

Elrond sat back and studied me while I tried to calm my breathing once again. I finally stared at the floor, unable to look at him further. What was I doing? I had fought against Morgoth's hosts; I had lived a mostly solitary life for thousands of years; I had faced the Valar in my trial. So why should meeting a group of Elves be any different? But it was, not the least because I knew they could harm me in ways the Valar wouldn’t dare.

“I cannot help you if you do not explain. But you do not have to come tomorrow. Feel free to wander around the clearing, but no farther. We will work on this, Maglor. You cannot avoid people forever.”

“I know,” I whispered, unable to do more.

My foster son rose from the bed, placed a hand on my right shoulder for an instant before returning to the couch and the stack of paperwork on the floor next to it. I lay down and stared out the window at the stars, not really paying attention to Culárë when he returned to the room and started to discuss the day's work with Elrond. If I truly must attend the talks, I had to overcome my fears, though I knew it would take more than a few days to truly do so. That meant planning for both good and bad possibilities. At the very least, I could act unafraid. It had worked in the past among Men, and maybe it would work now.