Maglor and the Twin Stars by tinni

A brief flash of lighting, followed by the ear-shattering burst of thunder, and soon, the pitter-patter of raindrops could be heard atop the wooden roof of the simple hut. He had always found the sound of rain soothing, for it reminded him of the times when his Ammë would hold him close and whisper soft reassuring words in his ears. She would tell him that he should rejoice in rain, for the clean, clear drops of rain washed away all that was unclean and uncouth. She would tell him that the drops of rain ran down the great lands of Middle Earth to the vast oceans of Ulmo, Lord of Waters, and brought to the noble Vala news and wishes of the Eruhini. His mother would tell him to speak to the rain, to sing to the sea, and know that if Ulmo willed it, his thoughts would reach even his father, who was fated to sail strange paths for the good of the kindred of Elves and Men.

Another flash of lightening, another roll of thunder and Elros’s nerves could take no more. Throwing away his cover, he sat up, surveying the room. Near the window, across the room, was placed the bed of Elrond. His twin was gazing out of the window, clutching the blanket around him protectively. Elros saw him tremble when next roar of thunder sounded.  Through their bond as twins, Elros knew that Elrond wanted to do just what he was about to but… but his brother still felt the need to be cool and aloof towards the only father either of them was likely to know now. Elros hopped out of bed, he was not his brother and he wanted Maglor to hold him close and sing him a song in that mighty voice of his that sounded like the roaring of the sea during a fierce tempest but gentle and soothing like a warm blanket on a Midwinter morn.

With quick small steps, Elros went into the smaller of the remaining two rooms of the hut. Tentatively, he approached the large bed, not wanting to wake Maglor with a start, but when he reached the bed he found it empty. Frantically, he searched the remainder of the small hut that was their home, but to no avail. Maglor was nowhere to be found.

“NO!” he cried. “No not him, too.”

“Not him what?” demanded Elrond, who had decided to join his brother and Maglor when Elros’s anguished cry hit the very core of his soul.

“Ada Maglor,” said Elros, by now beginning to sniffle and sob, “I can’t find him anywhere. His bed is empty and his riding cloak and boots are gone. He…” He began to hug his little trembling body tightly. “He has left us, too.” He finally sobbed out.

“No!” said Elrond firmly, “He wouldn’t do that.” He said with some conviction but the seed of doubt was not lost on Elros. “He wouldn’t leave us alone. Not him. He wouldn’t, he just wouldn’t,” he assured his brother.

“But he did!” cried Elros, “He left us… just like Ammë and Ada,” he whispered softly.

Elrond walked over to his twin, despite his own words, tears were leaking out his eyes and doubt gnawing at his heart. He drew his little brother into his arms and held him tight. “Don’t worry, my muindor. We still have each other,” he whispered, “We still have each other.”

So Elros and Elrond sat on the floor of the main room of their little hut, silently sobbing and wishing for their foster father. Suddenly the sound of horses could be heard between the rumblings of the ever-present thunder. The boys stiffened; hope beginning to rear its head in their hearts despite themselves.

“Come, Maitimo,” they heard the lyrical voice of Maglor say. “You need to rest.”

“Rest?” they heard a voice, that reminded them of broken things, say. “There is no rest for me. There will never be any rest for me.”

“Don’t say that!” cried Maglor. “Please Maitimo, don’t say that,” he repeated as he threw open the door of the hut and led his brother inside.

The breathtaking beauty of Maedhros the tall, even when marred by years of suffering, did not fail to awe the two little Half-elves, but the sight of his features also did not fail to fill the twins with fear, for they remembered how he had only consented to take them in so that he could use them as hostages. Awe, fear, and all such emotions soon fled when Maglor looked at them and asked, “What are the two of you doing here?”

Without warning Maglor found himself flat on the ground with two trembling elflings in his arms, “Please don’t leave us!” cried Elros. “Please, Ada Maglor, don’t leave us all alone. We need you.”

“Leave you?” asked Maglor in disbelief, “I would never dream of it.” He drew them into a tight embrace, “Why would you think something like that?” he wondered.

“Because we went to your room and your weren’t there,” Elros explained. “And we couldn’t find you and… and…”

Elros started sniffling.  Just thinking about that black moment when he thought he had once again been abandoned scared him and all he could do was grip Maglor’s tunic harder in an attempt to ensure that Maglor at least wasn’t going to live him. Elrond said nothing but his grip tightened as well. 

Maglor smiled a soft smile, “Worry not, little ones, I will not leave you.” Not yet anyway, he added to himself.

***

It took over an hour for Maglor to get the boys back to sleep. When he returned to the main room of the hut, he realised he still had another charge to tuck into the bed and sing to till he fell asleep. The only problem was that Maitimo, unlike Elros and Elrond, could not sleep the sleep of the righteous, so he was more than a little reluctant to sleep, for to

sleep meant to dream of the black walls of Angband and the chilly heights of Thangorodrim, not to mention the elf who loved him so much that he braved both and defied the Dark Lord himself.

Suddenly Maitimo smiled. “Ah, my dear songbird brother, fatherhood truly suits you.” He whispered, “Forgive me for not being as obedient a son as Elrond and Elros.”

“Fatherhood does suit me,” agreed Maglor, his face a blank mask. “Yet, my brother, your problem has always been too much obedience.”

Chapter End Notes

Translation:

Ammë = mother

Ada = father

Muindor = brother

Why was the world so grey? Was it the result of the less than adequate light provided by Vása? Or was it just him?  The elf’s mind dwelt on these thoughts as he stumbled towards the hut made of sticks and clay.

What was that? Laughter. Innocent laughter of beings who had never done anyone any harm. A kind of laughter so rare here in marred Endor that he almost did not recognize it. He stopped his progress towards the hut. The laughter undoubtedly belonged to the twin half-elflings and he doubted whether either of them would continue laughing in his presence. So he stood where he was, listening to the merry laughter, trying to remember when he had last laughed like that.

The deer hide flap that served as the door to the hut was pushed aside as the two elflings in question strode out, covered in flour and with honey staining their cheeks, their faces alight with joy. They held a large basket between them. The sweet and savory smell of honey cakes rose in tantalizing whiffs and teased his senses: there could be no doubt as to contents of the basket.

The joy dissipated immediately when they laid eyes on him. Both of them went defensive and defiant, their legs planted firmly to the ground and their chins tilting up so that their eyes locked with his. One was more defiant and the other more defensive but it was beyond his skills to tell them apart. “Were you making cakes?” he asked the children.

“You know we were, why ask questions to which you already know the answer?” wondered one of them. It had to be Elrond, for he always wanted to know the why behind the what.

He did not answer, he could not answer. How could he tell him that he hated the uncomfortable silence that arose each time they met? How could he tell him that he longed for them to think of him as their friend?  Knowing how futile such a wish was, he could think of nothing but of filling the cold silence with anything that came into his mind? He simply did not know how to talk to these children. ‘But perhaps,’ he thought as he watched Elrond’s eyes fractionally enlarge. ‘I don’t have to. Perhaps he senses it, feels it. Like his ancestor Melian would have.’  He turned his eyes towards Elros, and asked as softly as he could, “Why were you making cakes?”

Elros’s eyes narrowed, “Because today is Ada Maglor’s begetting day,” he reminded Maedhros. “Something you would remember if you were a good brother,” he declared flippantly, and Maedhros flinched, “We made the cakes for him. They are his favorites.”

“I know that,” snapped Maedhros, “And I did not forget that it was his begetting day. That is why I came to see him.”

“Well you came to the wrong place,” Elrond told him. “Ada Maglor is not here.”

“Where is he than?” wondered Maedhros. Neither of the children seemed forthcoming with the answer. After a moment Maedhros angrily said to them, “Fine! I shall find him myself.” With that, he strode away.

In truth, he went just beyond their sight and melded into the shadows with the aid of his cloak. Within moments, the two children went past him, and he began to trail them. He did not have to trail them long. Soon enough, the children came to a clearing in the forest filled with flowers that reflected all the colours of the rainbow. White butterflies fluttered about. One came to rest upon the crooked finger that his brother held out. Maglor was sitting in the middle of the flowery rainbow singing softly.

Hearing the children approach he stopped his song. The butterfly flew away as he turned to greet them with a warm loving smile, “Hello little ones.”

“Ada!” they called in unison. “You are going to love what we have made for you,” they declared as they uncovered the basket.

“Honey cakes, how delightful! Thank you, but you need not have gone to so much trouble,” said Maglor as he took a large piece of cake and bit off a mouthful.  His eyes drifted shut as he savored the taste. When they opened again they were twinkling with joy, “Though I am glad you did.”

The children smiled and threw their arms around Maglor, hugging him tightly. “It was no trouble at all,” they assured him, “We were happy to make them knowing that you would be so very happy to receive them.”

Maglor laughed and drew them in for a warm hug, “Indeed little ones. I am happy, very happy.”

Maedhros turned away from the joyful scene, filled with light and colours. He had his answer, the world was not grey. It was him. It was just him.

Chapter End Notes

Translation:

Vása – Noldorin word for the sun

Endor – Middle earth

Elladan and Elrohir sat with identical looks of confusion next to the roaring fire. A thick volume of tales from the First Age of the Sun lay between the two. One would have thought that at the tender age of ten, the Imladristwins would be too young for the dark tales from the time of the Noldorin rebellion, but the truth was that in the Hall of Fire, the two Half-elves had already heard most of the tales contained within the book and in far more detail as well. It would be pointless to keep the book from them. However, there was one thing in the book they had not known before. This was the first time they had heard of their father’s time with Maglor.  What confused the little ones was the statement as little might be thought great love grew between Maglor and the sons of Elwing. They did not understand. Why would their Ada grow to love the Elf who drove his mother into the sea?

“If some body did that to Ammë, I would hunt him down and throw him into a Balrog pit,” declared Elladan.

“Me too!” his brother asserted and after a moment of thoughtful thumb sucking added, “Maybe the book got it wrong. You remember how Glorfi said that stories don’t always say everything?”

Elladan nodded. After a moment of silence, Elladan swiftly got to his feet and said to his brother, “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Elrohir wondered, as he stood up.

“We are going to go ask Ada about this,” Elladan stated simply.

“We are?” asked Elrohir, wondering when they had come to this decision.

“Yes.” Elfling though he was, Elladan could still command attention and obedience as only a mighty Elf-lord could.

 ***

They found Elrond working at his desk in the main library. Not wanting to disturb their father they hesitated for a moment, but Elrond, happened to look up from his work and, seeing his beloved boys, broke into a wide grin, deciding immediately that the letter to Celeborn could wait. “Come in, my sons,” he said. The twins immediately ran to their father and began to vie for a place on his lap. Laughing Elrond sat down on the rug near his table and manoeuvred both the boys to sit in front of him. “Now tell me, what brings the two of you here?” he asked.

After a moments hesitation, Elladan, by far the braver of the twins, spoke up, “We wanted to ask you about Maglor, son of Feanor.”

For a moment, a look of deep grief shone through Elrond’s eyes, but the Lord of Imladris quickly mastered himself and asked, “What do you want to know about your other grandfather?” he asked with a forced smile.

“Other grandfather,” the twins repeated simultaneously. “So you did love him after all.”

Elrond was more than a little surprised by the question. “Of course I did. Very much so, for your grandfather, Eärendil, sailed in search of Aman when I and your uncle Elros were very young, and in truth, Maglor was the only father I truly knew.” 

The perplexed look returned to the faces of the twins. “But why? I mean, did he not do horrible things? He and his brother even drove grandmother into the sea,” cried Elladan.

Understanding began to dawn on Elrond. “Indeed he did,” admitted Elrond. “But… but desperate people do desperate things and the sons of Fëanor were desperate. In a moment when passion ran high and emotions overrode reason they swore an oath that they believed to be unbreakable. An oath which if they did not fulfill would condemn them to an eternity of darkness. Elves, my boys, crave light. Nothing, nothing is more frightening to us than the prospect of darkness everlasting. So you see, my sons, in their despair and fear they did many things they in their hearts regretted. Moreover with the memory of these deeds, their consciences plagued them unceasingly. Pity them, my sons, but do not hate them.” Elrond taught his children. “Reserve your hate for creatures that cannot be redeemed. The Valar know there are far too many of them as it is,” he whispered in a voice filled with regret.

After a moment of contemplating silence, Elrohir gently laid his hands on his father’s knee, “You miss him,” he stated.

Elrond nodded with a weak smile. “I admit that when Maglor took me in I was very angry. I was angry with my parents for abandoning us and I was angry with the sons of Fëanor for bringing death and destruction to peaceful Sirion. In truth, of course, my parents did not abandon us. My father sailed the seas in search for Aman so that my brother and I could know true peace. My mother dove into the sea, for she believed that the sons of Fëanor would murder us all regardless and this way she could at least deny them absolute victory. I did not realise these things back then. I felt nothing but a deep sense of abandonment and an even deeper sense of loss. I think, if I did not have a brother who loved me so very much, I would have faded long before Maglor warmed himself into my heart, taking away the sense of loss, the sense of being abandoned. For you see, my sons, I had the privilege to see the real Maglor, not the Maglor history remembers, not the Maglor who was forever doomed to stand in his father’s shadow. He never married you know, for he never met a woman who did not see him as a son of Fëanor but within him lived a great desire for children and a great capacity to love. It was this love he gave to Elros and me. He cherished us and we loved him for it. I miss him terribly, my sons, and I can only pray that neither of you ever have to feel such a terrible loss. In the end, I would give much to see him once more.”

Overcome with emotions that they could barely describe Elladan and Elrohir covered their father in twin bear hugs. “Don’t worry, Ada.” Elrohir whispered as he buried his head in his father’s thick dark mane, “One day, when Elladan and I are all grown up… we will find him for you,” Elrohir promised, Elladan nodding his consent.

But Elrond shook his head, “I thank you for you offer, little ones, but Gil-galad and I tried to find him, we did not succeed. We searched for him as far south as what is now Khand, there the men called him the Sad Singer and told us that he had dwelt in that land for a long while but eventually began to head further south. Following, it seemed, a rumour of a hidden valley deep in the heart of a near impregnable mountain range. It has been told that many of the Avari and Nandor dwelt there and planned to dwell there till the ending of Arda itself. We followed him no further, guessing that he had no wish to return to the north or the west.” Elrond sighed once again and admitted in a voice heavy with sadness, “Still, I miss him.” The twins hugged their father tighter, both of them wondering where their grandfather could be.

Chapter End Notes

I am aware that in the Essay "Of Men and Dwarves" (The Peoples of Middle-Earth, History of Middle Earth vol. 12), Tolkien states that Maglor is married literally in one line "Others who were wedded were Maelor (Maglor) and Caranthir." The Peoples of Middle-Earth, History of Middle Earth, the good professor does not give any more information on Maglor's wife. It would appear that I am omitting Maglor's wife but in truth, all my stories are based in a universe were Maglor married during his wandering and so Elrond wouldn't know that Maglor had married.