Indy's B2MeM Stories by Independence1776

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2018

This was written for the 2018 initial prompt "crossing the ocean."

Maglor, Lalwen, and an invitation during Númenor's seven hundredth anniversary of its founding. Ficlet. Rated General.

Maglor unrolled the message he’d clenched in his hand. The paper was already starting to tear given how many times he’d looked at it since it was hand-delivered by a palace guard late the previous evening.

Maglor,

I know you know I saw you in the market this early afternoon; I let you leave without making a fuss because I thought you would appreciate it. You managed to disappear quite thoroughly after the War. Yet an Elf trying to be inconspicuous in Númenor? I talked to Tar-Elendil and he knew within hours where you were boarding, how long you had been there, and on what ship you had crossed the ocean.

I hope you don’t mind my intrusion, but I would like to converse with you. Given that neither of us will be here for much longer, I do not think it too much to ask. Come to supper tomorrow evening at sunset. I guarantee it will be private. Tell the guards at the palace garden gate that you will be visiting me; they’re expecting you and someone will escort you to my chambers. I look forward to seeing you again.

With my full regards,

Lalwen

He rolled the note back up and shoved it into his pocket. He glanced at the guard standing next to the open gate into the palace gardens, sighed, and stepped forward. His cousin had not lost an iota of Finwëan stubbornness and he knew full well that if he did not listen to her, she would come to him. That was a disturbance he did not want; while the proprietor of the inn Maglor had arranged to board at for providing light entertainment every other evening during the festive week knew he was an Elf, it would not do to have any more attention drawn to him than necessary. Of course, that caution had proven all but pointless when Lalwen spotted him.

True to Lalwen’s word, he was admitted and led by a guard through the winding gardens-- some decorative with flowers in full bloom, some useful for healing and kitchen, one with a hedge maze-- to an offshoot palace wing that overlooked one of the gardens that had required the unlocking of a wrought-iron gate to enter.

Lalwen, her black hair now cropped short in an interesting change from what had been typical Elven hairstyles, opened a glass-and-wood door near the building’s end and smiled at him as the guard took his leave. “It’s lovely to see you, Maglor.”

He raised an eyebrow and stepped into the dining room. It was small, private as she’d promised: there were only two place settings on the wooden table. A bottle of white wine stood on the table next to a covered tureen on the embroidered runner. Two doors on opposite sides of the room from each other led elsewhere in the wing. He suspected this was supposed to be a private dining area, either for immediate family or a pair of lovers, for it was hardly furnished apart from a small china cabinet against the wall opposite the garden door. “Are you sure?”

She sighed. “Maglor, if I want to see my cousin again, I can. You are not out of bounds here and neither am I. Regardless,” she said, “if people question me, I can say I am ensuring my people’s safety from a Kinslayer.” She rolled her eyes and gestured at the chair closest to him. “Sit down. I promise I haven’t poisoned the soup.”

Maglor chuckled and moved toward the chair when the door opposite him banged open and a woman with auburn hair in a loose braid hurried in. “Lalwen, I’m sorry I’m late. I lost track of time in the statue gard--” She stopped when she saw him, one of her hands rising to cover her mouth.

Maglor swallowed, staring at her. Both of them ignored Lalwen slipping out of the room through the door behind Maglor. “Mother,” he finally said and took two giant steps across the room to embrace her.

Nerdanel wrapped her muscular arms around him and held him tight.

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