A Place to Rest by Independence1776

It was night again. Elrond came to a stop beside Maglor, who stood huddled near the path through the garden to the main house, almost buried in a shrub. “What happened?” Elrond asked softly.

He knew Ninniach had passed on to Maglor that Thranduil and his people would ostracize Maglor, pretend that he wasn’t there, even if he was speaking or singing, save for during the council. Maglor had in return made himself scarce until the council meeting, stayed long enough to give his report, and than vanished again, probably to Sal’s, his puppy by his feet the entire time. As far as Elrond was aware, the agreement hadn’t been broken. Had that changed?

Maglor turned his head slightly, looking at Elrond out of the corner of his eyes. “I talked to Mithrandir. He said that while I was not yet able to sail, one day it might be possible.” He sighed. “I’m not sure whether that makes things better or worse.”

“Do you still mean to remain in Imladris?”

Maglor’s hands tightened on his elbows. “I don’t know. For the first time in thousands of years, I have a place where I can rest. But…”

Elrond reached out and placed a hand lightly on Maglor’s near shoulder. “Don’t let this revelation cause you to flee.”

Maglor shrugged Elrond’s hand off. “Everyone knows my help will be invaluable hunting orcs in the mountains. I’m simply not sure I want to. I need to rest, Elrond.”

“Then rest. Your remaining here does not mandate that you hunt orcs. We won’t force anyone into it,” Elrond said as Maglor stared off into the distance.

“I know.” He sighed again. “I require time to myself right now, Elrond.” He snapped his fingers and Rána bounded out of the garden. Together, they walked away from the house, leaving Elrond standing alone, watching them disappear into the night. He waited until they did so and then turned to go back inside. Celebrían and Celeborn needed to hear what Mithrandir had told Maglor.

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