Fear No Darkness by Independence1776

Chapter 9

I18, Song Lyrics 1, So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road

Maglor entered the cockpit and sat down in the seat behind Mother. The blue and green planet streaked with white clouds grew larger as they approached. “Where are we?”

“Wild Space,” Direne said. “It’s a planet not listed on any Imperial charts.”

“We’ve set up a small colony here,” Mother said, reaching up to flick a couple of switches.

“Who is we?”

Mother glanced over her shoulder at him. “You’ll see. We really aren’t that large. There’s barely a hundred of us.”

Maglor shrugged. “All right.” Curiosity would be satisfied soon enough. Hopefully, it would be people he’d tolerate because now that the Empire knew he survived, leaving would doom the colony and himself.

Once the ship landed, Direne scrambled out of the cockpit. Mother turned in her seat to look at Maglor. “I know you’d prefer to be in your own ship--”

“I’d rather be with people here than out there alone, Mother.” He was tired. Having to hide himself, keep moving, keep from drawing attention, knowing he lived under a death sentence: here he could finally rest. But he had one more concern. “They do know we’re Force-users?”

Mother laughed. “Of course. Come; I’ll show you around.”

Mother led him through the village. It was organized in a grid pattern, with fields surrounding it on three sides. The fourth was a dirt landing pad large enough for half a dozen cargo ships or yachts, though only three ships were on the ground. He recognized Glorfindel’s Asfaloth. “Glorfindel’s here?”

Mother nodded. “Most of the Hobbits he rescued from Gondolin returned to the Shire. The oldest Hobbit-- you stayed with him during the Shire’s anniversary celebration-- remained with Glorfindel, claiming that he was too old to assist in the rebellion. We haven’t heard anything from his nephew Frodo and his friends since the takeover. We suspect they’re enslaved or dead.”

Maglor frowned. “I am sorry to hear that.” He took a deep breath. “Mother, Uncle Finarfin is dead.”

“We know,” she said, turning to face him. “Our contact in Ingwë’s court informed us and that Indis and Findis were transferred to a labor camp. He wasn’t able to tell us which one and right now, we can’t dig for them. Direne is a good slicer, but the Empire will be watching more closely than normal.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t your fault.”

“I know. We all made our choices.” He looked over at the buildings made of shipping containers or logs, though some were prefabricated structures. The largest, in what passed for the town square, was. “Who else lives here?”

“Elwing and her family, of course. Their twins remain planetside rather than travel on the Vingilótë; Elros is apprenticed to his father and Elrond to Lúthien.”

Maglor’s jaw dropped. “Lúthien?”

“Beren and Lúthien found the planet and quietly reached out to every Quend they could trust.” She held up a hand before Maglor could ask the question that flashed into his mind. “You were safer where you were. Once you knew, protocol demands you be based here, working odd jobs and acting more or less as a pirate.”

He could feel the truth through the Force, so he nodded. “What am I to do now? I certainly can’t be a pirate with the Inquisitors after me.”

“We’ll figure it out. We always need more hands around building the colony, though the farming droids we have work well enough.”

They stopped by the quartermaster working out of one of the ubiquitous cargo containers to get him some clothing and ended up at Mother’s log home. “I don’t have a spare bedroom but the couch is large enough for you for a couple of nights while we work out living arrangements.”

He’d undoubtedly end up in a renovated shipping container. At least it was a roof over his head. Maglor dumped the pile of clothing onto the cushions, along with the small bag from his belt holding everything he owned. “Is there anything else?”

“Our next stop is the infirmary. You were captive; this isn’t optional.”

“I wasn’t going to argue,” Maglor said.

“Good,” Mother said and smiled.

*

Maglor leaned back in his chair and looked around what happened to be the largest structure in the village: the communal cafeteria. Bilbo had absolute control of it, even when it doubled as a gathering area at night, complete with alcohol for those old enough, which happened to be almost everyone in the colony. He’d seen only a handful of minors-- Elros, Elrond, and Direne included-- and he suspected that all of them were Force-sensitive or had siblings who were, though none of the minors were in the building right now. Three Hwenti Quendi played instruments in the far corner; small groups of people gathered around tables to talk, play games, or simply relax in company.

After they’d eaten a quiet supper in Mother’s house, Mother and Maglor had joined Lúthien, Elwing, and Eärendil in the cafeteria. He didn’t know what to say to any of them, especially when they were talking about plans for the colony and stealing more supplies from the Empire. He knew very little about Imperial anti-pirate measures. But being with everyone… He’d lost so much and now he’d regained some of it. He might still be the only Jedi alive, but he was no longer alone.

Eärendil raised his mug. “To a free Arda.”

Maglor tapped his own mug against Eärendil’s and said, “To a free galaxy.”