Family, long deserved by chrissystriped

Family, long deserved

Read Family, long deserved

Lómion walked across the market place. He’d delivered the hides he’d hunted to the village’s furrier and spent the rest of the day with doing small pieces of smith work for the inhabitants. He had an arrangement with them: he was paid in vegetables and dried fruit, woollen clothes and other produce he couldn’t find in the forest. He’d been asked more than once to stay, become their resident smith, but while he enjoyed to be among people now and then, he didn’t feel like settling down.

His mother had told him: “There’s nothing wrong with not feeling rooted to one place. Just know, that you’ll always have a home with me.”

She’d found a home away from Tirion, in a bigger city close to the Forest, where she could go on long rides and hunt. Lómion had been relieved that she didn’t press him to move in with her. She understood him, accepted him as he was. How much he had missed her!

“Maeglin?”

He jumped and whirled around, staring at the elf who came toward him.

“Yes?”, he asked with a tremble in his voice. He called himself Lómion these days, everyone who called him Maeglin…

He froze, when he finally recognised the elf. Without the scars that had marred Rog’s face for as long as he’d known him, he almost hadn’t recognised him — and now it was too late to flee. Lómion felt his throat grow tight, he was trembling, cold sweat running down his face.

“No, don’t be scared!” Rog looked startled. “I’m not angry with you!”

“No?”, whispered Lómion, feeling faint.

“Come, sit down.” Rog led him to a bench below a tree. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to startle you.”

Maeglin closed his eyes and leaned back. “Why?”, he whispered. “Why don’t you hate me?”

“I don’t believe you gave Gondolin away of your own free will, like Pengolodh wrote. Am I wrong?”

“No.” Lómion pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees. “He offered me Idril, but… that’s not why I betrayed Gondolin.” Lómion held his breath to stifle a sob. “He hurt me. But… but I shouldn’t whine about it to you, you know…”

“I was never tortured for information”, Rog said gently. “I was only a slave in the forges. I wouldn’t dare to vow that I could withstand that. I only wish you could have confided in someone, things might have turned out different then.”

Lómion shook his head, the old fear rising up inside him. “I wanted to… I tried! But… I’m a coward. Each time I thought I’d made up my mind, my voice faltered and I didn’t get a single word out. I felt his eyes upon me and I knew what he would do to me, if I talked.” Lómion gasped, breathless like he’d been running.

“May I?”, Rog reached out with his hand, but waited for Lómion’s nod to lay his arm around his shoulder. “You are no coward. He did this to you. He put a spell on you, put that fear in your heart. You’re not the only one.” Rog shook his head. “I should have seen it. I must have been blind. It’s not your fault alone.”

“Thank you”, Lómion sniffed. “I was so scared to meet you… any of you. Thank you for forgiving me.”

Rog squeezed his shoulder. “You might want to visit Tirion. Ecthelion is hosting parties there, for the Angband-Elves — people like us.”

Lómion looked up, to stare at him. Ecthelion?

Rog smiled wryly as if he knew exactly what he was thinking. “He was taken the Angband after Gondolin’s fall, you wouldn’t know him now. I won’t say it to his face, but it did him some good to be a slave — and I think he knows it. I like the wood too much to make it there often, but I’ve been there once or twice. You should go. Meet some people who’ve been in your place. That’s why Ecthelion is doing it, he says. To give them — us — a place were we aren’t looked at askance for our experience.”

Lómion felt a flutter of hope in his chest at the thought. The only reason he didn’t look constantly over his shoulder in the village was because he knew that they didn’t know who he was or what he’d done. But… “Ecthelion…”

“He’ll understand”, Rog said firmly. “As did I. He’s lived through it, too.”

“I’ll think about it. Thank you for telling me.”

Rog smiled kindly at him. “Good. I’ll be here for another few days. Meet me in the tavern this evening? I usually travel alone, but maybe we could go on a hunt together?”

Lómion returned his smile, letting the hope flutter in his heart again. Rog had forgiven him, he knew everything and still he went out of his way to seek his company.

“I’d like that”, he answered.

 

Laiglas smiled at Galathil as they walked up the street to Ecthelion’s house. They could already see the open door, Ecthelion standing before it and greeting his guests. Laiglas loved this place, where he could sing and dance with his people and forget about how they were looked at sometimes.

It was not always possible to convince Galathil to come, but today was one of the days, where only Angband-Elves were allowed. He didn’t know exactly what was going on between Galathil and Sinthoras these days, but he did know that his friend could often not endure the presence of those who had enslaved them. Laiglas liked to have Mo at his side, of course, but he also understood the need of some of them to be completely among themselves.

He saw someone stand in the shadows of an alley, hiding under the hood of their cloak.

“Looks like someone new is trying to make up their mind”, Laiglas said and nodded in the direction of the cloaked person. “Do you mind going in alone? I’ll see, if I can help them.”

“That’s nice of you.” Galathil smiled at him. “See you inside.”

Laiglas strolled over to the alley and stopped beside them. “Thinking of going in?”, he said, leaning against the wall and looking at the open door of Ecthelion’s house.

He could see the stranger tense from the corner of his eye, their nod was almost hidden in their hood.

“What’s holding you back? I can assure you, we are all very welcoming.”

“I heard there are orcs there”, the stranger whispered. Laiglas thought he sounded male.

“They aren’t that scary once you know them — not so different from us, really. They’ve changed. But you’ve picked a good night. There’s only Angband-Elves allowed today. You’ve been in Angband?”

The stranger nodded again.

“We understand”, Laiglas continued. “We all lived through that. I was born there. No one’s going to judge you for what you did there to survive.”

The stranger shrunk in on himself. “I’m not sure that’s going to hold true for me. Ecthelion… he at least is going to have a score to settle with me.”

“Did you know him before he was captured? I’ve heard he is much nicer than he was. I’m sure he won’t hurt you.”

“I’m not so sure of that. I’m somewhat of a… special case.”

Laiglas leaned against the wall beside the elf, making himself comfortable for a longer wait. He certainly wouldn’t force him into going in there, but he would try to persuade him. “Want to tell me what makes you say that?”, he asked. “And before you say No, consider that my partner is a former Maia of Melkor.” That earned him a startled look out of silver eyes. Laiglas turned the signet ring he wore on his forefinger, and refrained from saying that he considered Melkor himself a good friend. “He changed and deserved a second chance. So, what I want to say, I guess, is: Whatever it is you did, forgiveness might not be as impossible as you think.”

The elf took a deep breath and pushed his hood back a little, Laiglas counted that as a good sign. “Maybe…” He threw him another wary look. “I’m Lómion”, he said.

“Nice to meet you, Lómion.” Laiglas smiled. “I’m Laiglas.”

Lómion answered his smile shakily. “Back in the old life… I was called Maeglin.” His eyes were wide and fearful.

“I understand”, Laiglas said with a quick look to Ecthelion’s house. He hadn’t recognised the first name, but he did know about the Fall of Gondolin. “But Ecthelion was in Angband, too. I don’t think he’d be hostile towards you. He knows that everyone breaks under torture.”

“It is my fault that he was brought there.” Maeglin shuddered, but he also looked incredulously at him. “You… don’t believe that I betrayed Gondolin because He promised me Idril?”

Laiglas huffed. “I might not be the most learned person, but I know a story that is biased against someone, when I see it.”

“Thank you”, Lómion whispered. “I… I think I’m ready to meet Ecthelion.”

Laiglas squeezed his shoulder. He hoped he was right about Ecthelion’s reaction — he might have to punch him if he tried to hurt Lómion.

“I have found a new member for our community”, he said as they walked up to the house, Lómion had again drawn his hood down and Laiglas felt him shaking beside him. “But he’s a little afraid of you.”

“Of me?” Ecthelion looked startled at them.

“Well, you have some history…” Laiglas stopped, when Lómion squeezed his hand and whispered: “Thank you. But this I have to do myself.”

 

The elf beside Laiglas straightened and pushed back his hood. He was very pale, his eyes wide with fear. His lips were trembling and Ecthelion felt a faint touch at his mind — he’d never been good at staying in his own mind.

“Maeglin”, he said.

At first he felt a rush of fury at the elf who’d betrayed them all — he clenched his fists — but then another thought pushed to the forefront of his mind: ‘Valar, has he always looked so young?’ He couldn’t be angry with this child looking at him with scared eyes. And anyway, he knew it wasn’t all Maeglin’s fault, not in the way Pengolodh had written it.

Ecthelion had read it, out of a morbid curiosity for his own part in Pengolodh’s account, and had been very aware that Pengolodh couldn’t have known about Maeglin’s motivations when he wrote it, so Ecthelion had asked Melkor — not because he’d felt particularly gracious toward Maeglin, but because he wanted to know the truth.

“Don’t be afraid”, he said, realising that Laiglas had gotten himself into a position to hold him back, had he tried to attack Maeglin. He spared him a quick smile. “I’m much more angry at Turgon for not listening to Ulmo’s message than I’m at you for… what happened to you in Angband. You are welcome here as one of us.”

Maeglin’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you”, he choked out. “I’m so sorry.”

“I forgive you”, Ecthelion said. “I forgive you for any fault you might have had in the events that brought Gondolin down.”

Maeglin wiped the tears off his cheeks. “I go by Lómion now, if… you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.” Ecthelion smiled at him and stepped aside, moving his arm invitingly. “Welcome, Lómion, to our little party.”

 

Lómion was still trembling as he walked past Ecthelion. He’d been so tense, a nervous coil in his belly, expecting to be received with scorn. After his rebirth, he’d vanished in the deep forest. He couldn’t meet Turgon or any of the people whose lives he’d destroyed. And now that Ecthelion had greeted him so graciously, a rush of relief coursed through his body. It had taken him almost a year to pick up his courage and come here after Rog had told him about these parties.

He stopped in the doorway to the hall. It was lighted by a chandelier and candelabras and full of elves. One of them stood close to the door and waved.

“That’s my friend Galathil. Want to come with us?” Lómion startled when Laiglas stepped beside him. “Sorry”, the other elf continued. “Didn’t want to scare you.”

“It’s alright. I’m just a little jumpy.” Lómion blushed.

“No.” Laiglas said and looked seriously at him. Lómion wondered, what he’d done wrong now. He meant to say ‘I’m sorry’, but Laiglas continued: “There’s no ‘just’ about it. We all have our peculiarities and needs. You don’t have to apologise for yours.”

“Thank you.” Lómion looked down. “I… I’m not used to that. I couldn’t tell anyone, I was too scared, and so I had to hide my fears.”

“Is touching you okay?” Laiglas squeezed his shoulder when Lómion nodded. “You’re among friends now”, he said. “We won’t judge you and we’ll take you as you are. You don’t have to force yourself to do anything.”

“I might have to leave. Many people close together can feel overwhelming to me.” Lómion smiled shyly at Laiglas. The elf was so nice to him. He’d thought, he’d hide in the shadows and watch this time, but the friendly reception made him brave.

“That’s fine. Tell me if you need something, anything. I’ll get you out of here at a moment’s notice if you need it.”

“Thank you. I’d like to meet your friend.” It might be nice to have someone to follow around.

“This is Lómion”, Laiglas said to his friend. “He’s new. Lómion, this is Galathil.”

Lómion returned the greeting of the elf shyly.

“Let’s get something to drink”, Laiglas said and steered them through the crowd.

Somehow, Lómion had expected everyone to stare at him, but apart from a few curious glances he didn’t draw any attention. As far as he could tell, no one recognised him — that was a relief. Lómion relaxed a little and accepted the glass of red wine, Laiglas offered to him.

“Let’s go over there”, Laiglas pointed to one side of the room, where large glass-doors led into the garden. “If it gets too much for you, we can go outside.”

Maeglin had steeled himself for a barrage of thoughts he’d have to blend out, when he’d entered the room, but now he realised that most of the elves here had their mental shields firmly in place, it was blissfully quiet in his mind.

He felt a warmth bloom in his chest that Laiglas was mindful of what he’d told him, but… “Only if you don’t mind. I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“You aren’t’”, Galathil interjected. “I like a less busy spot and access to fresh air myself.”

They found a place close to the doors to the garden but with a view of the stage. There were already some musicians tuning their instruments. Lómion tensed when Ecthelion came towards him. Had he changed his mind? Would he ask him to leave now?

“I see, you’ve already found some new acquaintances”, Ecthelion said with a smile and Lómion could discern no malice or hidden sense in his words. “If you need anything from me, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you.” Maeglin said softly. He doubted, he’d bother Ecthelion with anything. He was relieved he’d forgiven him, he wouldn’t push his luck and annoy him with unnecessary requests.

“We’re taking care of him”, Laiglas said. “Get yourself up on that stage now, so things can start.”

Lómion felt a shudder go through him. Barely anyone would have dared to talk to Ecthelion like that in Gondolin. Glorfindel, maybe, and Rog who didn’t care what others thought about him. Lómion never. He expected Ecthelion to remind Laiglas of his rank, but Ecthelion just laughed and gave a quick, mocking bow, before he left to climb the few stairs to the stage. Maybe he indeed had changed.

Ecthelion spoke some words of greeting and introduced the musicians before leaving the stage to them. Maeglin did not count himself as particularly musical and he had certainly no idea of current fashion, but what he did know was that the language the singer was using was no mode of Quenya or Sindarin he knew.

Not, that he was that good with languages. As much as he had liked to have something that belonged only to his mother and him, a secret carefully hidden from his father, Quenya had not come easy to him. He’d been barely fluent when they’d reached Gondolin.

Lómion started when some people in the crowd began to sing, too. For a moment he wondered, if this was part of the performance, but then more and more voices joined the song, Laiglas and Galathil as well, and he thought this might just be the way this concert worked.

Lómion felt tears prick his eyes as he was pulled back in time. Eol’s people had often sung together, especially on new moon nights when only the stars were in the sky. Old songs that had been already sung at he shores of Cuiviénen, as his father had told him. Lómion had known better than to remark that the language those old songs were in sounded remarkably like the Quenya his mother was teaching him.

There had been happy times in his early life, too, not just the dark ones. This was reminding him of it in a way he hadn’t thought he’d find here.

“You alright?”, Laiglas asked and Lómion realised tears were running down his cheeks.

“Yes”, he whispered. “It’s… it’s beautiful.”

Laiglas smiled. “Yes, it is. You’ll learn the words, if you come here more often. Some of these songs are sung more than once each time we meet.”

Lómion squeezed Laiglas’s hand he had reached for without noticing. He was a little embarrassed that he was holding a stranger’s hand, but not enough to let go and Laiglas didn’t seem to mind. He could keenly feel the companionship permeating the whole room and at this moment he wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else. He hadn’t really know what he’d expected from these parties — but this had not been it. He was still tense, he didn’t like crowds, but for this he could endure the slight discomfort.

After a while he realised that Ecthelion had come over to them again and was watching him with curiosity in his eyes. When their eyes met, he smiled at him. “What do you think?”

“I like it.” Lómion smiled back shyly.

“I’m glad you do. You can come here any time you like. In fact, do you have a place to stay tonight? I could offer you a guest room.”

“I… I’m good, thank you.” Lómion felt himself blush. He’d come on foot to Tirion but had been too scared for someone to recognise him to find himself a room. He’d hidden his pack outside under a group of bushes and intended to sleep under the stars, like he did most of the year. It startled him that Ecthelion had offered, he’d have never expected him to be so nice to him.

He’d been so afraid of being hated, but did he really deserve that much forgiveness? He had betrayed them. He felt hollow after Ecthelion had vanished again to attend to other guests. Suddenly the music was too loud and the people around him felt overwhelming.

“I don’t know about you, but I need a little space right now”, Galathil said suddenly. “Let’s walk around the garden for a bit.”

Lómion looked at him suspiciously, wondering if he had noticed his discomfort. Was he judging him? But Galathil returned his look so openly and without guile that he found himself nodding. The three of them went into the cool darkness of the garden, only lighted by a few lamps hanging high in the trees.

They walked along the gravel paths in silence, the music from the house dropping back and Lómion felt his heart’s beat return to normal, the cold sweat drying on his skin. He drew in a deep breath and sighed. The air smelled of night-blooming flowers. The two elves had taken him between them, not touching but staying close. They kept their silence, but it was not an uncomfortable one and Lómion noticed he did not have the urge to apologise for his shortcomings.

“I’m staying in an inn in the New Town that’s managed by one of us. Just in case you do need a place to stay but Ecthelion’s hospitality is too overwhelming”, Laiglas said after a while. “I know, I could use some company walking there later.”

“I…” Lómion hesitated. “I don’t want to insult Ecthelion.”

“He won’t be insulted. I saw how frightened you were of him. He must know it, too. He tries to make you comfortable, but he won’t be insulted if you need some time — however much time you need.”

“But do I deserve that?”, Lómion whispered his doubts and was surprised at himself that he should open to these elves he’d only met such a short time ago. “I betrayed him, I betrayed them all.”

“But did you do it of your own free will?”, Galathil asked, a darkness behind his eyes that made Lómion’s heart clench for its familiarity.

“No. But I was weak and my weakness killed them all.”

“I’d have told him anything and everything by the end. I wished he’d have asked me questions, if only to make sense of my suffering”, Laiglas said. “I heard Maedhros say that one time and whatever else Maedhros Feanorion might be, he is not weak. You aren’t either. You deserve happiness, same as all of us.”

Lómion felt tears prick at his eyes. “I’m not sure I can believe that.”

Laiglas smiled wryly at him. “That’s why we have to tell each other, again and again, because no one else will. We Angband-Elves stick together. We are family — if you want us.”

Lómion thought that he wanted, but it felt all too good to be true. He never had that much luck. “If you don’t mind me coming with you, I kind of need a room”, he said, not wanting to give away too much of his feelings. He’d already been uncharacteristically open with them. “But… I need to fetch my things from outside the city first."

Laiglas threw him a knowing look. “You were trying your best to make yourself invisible, yes?”

Lómion nodded with a blush. He felt so awkward.

“Don’t worry. A lot of us feel anxious to meet strangers. I hope we aren’t so scary, after all.”

“No, you aren’t.” Lómion smiled.

“Good. We can fetch your things later, before we go to the inn. I like walking at night.”

 

Galathil had said good bye after walking a bit of the way with them, turning into one of the alleys that branched off from the stairs they were taking. He was staying with friends. Laiglas led him on, down narrow passages and stairs, promising him it was the shortest way. Lómion would have been lost without him, he’d used to main road on his way to Ecthelion’s house.

Laiglas talked about himself, while they walked. About living with his father who had an orchard, about harvesting, about being in love with a former follower of Melkor. Lómion didn’t know what to say to that, so he talked about his own life. The hunting, the smithing, traveling and exploring the forest and while he spoke, he realised how much he liked it there. Yes, he’d originally hidden in the forest to be away from everyone he might have known before, but he was happy there.

They fetched his pack and walked around the hill into the New Town that spread out on the plain between the Túna, the mountains and the river. The inn was still open, a few people sitting in the common room, when they arrived. Lómion followed Laiglas to the bar.

“Do you have another free room?” Laiglas asked the innkeeper.

“I’ll take a look. We’re pretty full this night because of Ecthelion’s party. Was it nice?”

Laiglas smiled. “It was. Taking turns with your wife, aren’t you?”

The inkeeper nodded. “We can’t just close the inn.” He opened a book and looked at the entries, then put two keys on top of the bar. “Here you are. You’re lucky, it’s the last one.”

Lómion paid him out of his dwindling savings. It wasn’t often that he was paid in hard coin. Business in the forest mostly was barter business.

“Do you happen to know a jewel smith?”, he asked Laiglas as they walked up the stairs. “I have a few uncut stones, I’d like to sell.” He’d brought some of the nicer ones he’d found in the forest, intending to sell them — if I could scrounge up the courage to talk to a stranger. “Preferably someone who, ah… isn’t from Gondolin?”

“I think, I do. I’ll introduce you tomorrow, if you’d like? Let’s have breakfast together and then go to her.”

“If it isn’t any trouble to you?”

“None at all!”

Lómion still felt slightly anxious to accept help from someone he barely knew a few hours, but it seemed so natural to Laiglas that his mind didn’t worry too much. “Good night”, he said, when they reached their rooms, lying across form each other.

“Good night.” Laiglas smiled at him.

 

Lómion knocked on Laiglas’s door, hoping he didn’t wake the elf. He heard two voices speaking before Laiglas opened the door, looking sheepish.

“I’m sorry”, stuttered Lómion. “I thought you’d invited me to have breakfast together, but if you are otherwise occupied…”

“No! I mean… I still want to have breakfast with you, but my partner decided to pay me an unannounced visit and…” Laiglas rubbed the back of his head.

Lómion felt a stab at his heart. He’d felt so comfortable with Laiglas and had actually looked forward to spend a little more time with him. But of course he would prefer his partner’s company to his.

“Well, I told you he served Melkor before and I’m not sure if you’d feel comfortable in his presence. I can ask him to leave. If you stay in your room until I come to call you, you don’t even have to see him.”

Lómion had already opened his mouth to tell him, it didn’t matter, he understood, when Laiglas’s words registered. “You’d send him away for… for me?”

“He’ll understand.” Laiglas shrugged, looking embarrassed. “I promised to introduce you to Tiniel and I’m not going back on my word. I would not spring his presence on you.”

“You love him?”, Lómion asked softly.

“I do. And I’ll fight anyone who wants to challenge that. But I understand why some people just can’t bear his presence.” Laiglas smiled gently. “Don’t feel like you have to.”

“Do I know him?” Lómion felt he’d started to tremble a little.

“He thinks not. His name is Mormirion. he didn’t have much to do with… political prisoners.”

“I don’t know the name. I want to meet him.”

Laiglas had been so nice to him, he had to try at least. Laiglas looked deeply into his eyes for a moment, then he nodded. “Come in, then.”

Laiglas’s Maia stood at the window of his room, looking outside, he turned around when Laiglas said: “Lómion, let me introduce Mormirion to you.”

“Good morning, Lómion.” To Lómion’s embarrassment the Maia bowed to him. “I hope my unexpected presence doesn’t inconvenience you.”

“No… no, it doesn’t.”

Mormirion’s mind lay open to him, carefully held back as not to overwhelm him but ready for him to read. It was jewel-bright. There was no darkness, unless it were the comfortable one of a mine. Either he was very good at hiding his evil, or he’d completely reformed indeed. Considering what other people probably thought of Lómion, he was willing to believe the latter.

“You’re a miner?”, Lómion asked.

“I am.”

“I’m, too! Could I…” Lómion cut himself off. What was he thinking, asking a foreign Maia if he could visit Aule’s Mines?

“See my workplace?”, Mormirion finished the sentence.

Lómion blushed and looked at his feet as he nodded. What would he think of him now?

“I think that can be arranged.” There was a smile in the Maia’s voice and Lómion dared to look up again. “If this is something that interests you, I’m sure I could pull some strings to find you a place among us.”

“I…” Lómion’s heart skipped with excitement. “But… why would you do that for me.”

“Laiglas likes you. And I try to help the people I wronged.”

That reminded Lómion of who he was talking to. “I don’t think we… met”, he said in a small voice.

“I think you’re right. But still… I helped building and running Angband. Allow me to do this for you, if you desire it.”

“I… thank you.” Lómion felt his lips tremble as he smiled at him. He still wasn’t sure if he deserved all this luck he seemed to have suddenly.

“Breakfast”, Laiglas said. “You can continue talking about rocks, but I need food.”

Lómion blushed. “I’m sorry”, he mumbled. “I didn’t want to ignore you.”

“It’s alright.” Laiglas squeezed his shoulder. “It was a joke. I’m not angry. Let’s go?”

Lómion sighed relieved when he touched Laiglas’s mind with his and felt that he really wasn’t angry. He nodded. “Let’s eat.”

 

Laiglas waved after Lómion with a fond smile as they parted ways before the gates of the city. At breakfast Lómion and Mo talked about mining, precious metals and jewels. The elf had thawed during the conversation and it had warmed Laiglas heart to see him with a spark in his eyes and a smile on his lips. Lómion was very worried of what others thought of him, he’d already discerned that. He’d seen it again, when he’d introduced him to Tiniel. But he didn’t seem to be afraid of Mo in particular and that was good.

“Don’t forget you promised to come to the next party!”, he called after him.

Lómion turned around. “I won’t. I’ll be there.”

And Mo would show him the mines, they’d already set a date for that. Laiglas was glad they’d met, he liked Lómion.