Title: By the Grace of the Valar
Author: Morgana
Author's Email:
Web page: http://www.paranoid.nl/avalon
Pairing for this part; Elrond/Celebrían.
Overall rating: NC-17
Summary: Elrond and Celebrían are married, Maeglin tells his life’s tale and
Erestor gets a second chance at love.
Disclaimer: Not mine, Tolkien’s.
Warning: AU of course!
Author’s Note: Completely AU. Plus, I am taking huge liberties with Erestor, Námo and his wife, Vairë. This story has the timeline from Hell, so you are warned! Main focus in this part is on Maeglin’s tale, which I never intended to be a part of the story, but characters have a way of doing what they want. Mornén is Patricia’s invention! Thanks for the name, sweetie!
Beta reading, translations and research by Patricia Pleasant, thanks! I couldn’t have written this story without your help!
All remaining mistakes are mine.
By the Grace of the Valar
Part 6
Elrond kissed Celebrían and his heart jumped in joy for he was married now and Celebrían his wife! It seemed like everything he had worked for, had fought for, had finally been achieved. Now that Celebrían had married him, nothing stood in his way of founding his little family and raising his children – children, which his wife wanted as much as he did. “You have made me the happiest Elf alive,” whispered Elrond into her ear.
She sat beside him, watching everyone around them making merry. Even her parents had joined in and were dancing, whilst giving each other loving looks. She knew she had made the right decision to marry Elrond because her love for him had doubled since she had taken him as her husband. Imladris was her new home now and she knew Elrond would do everything within his power to make her happy. “I love you, Elrond Half-Elven.”
Elrond’s eyes shone with happiness, hearing those words. Still feeling somewhat shy, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her even closer. Tonight, they would share a bed for the first time, but he didn’t expect them to bind yet. They had time and would explore their love, bit by bit. He wanted them to be lovers before they became parents. Everything should happen in its own time.
The only thing that saddened him was the fact that Lindir was about to leave for the Gray Havens. Not forever, but for a long period of time, as the minstrel had expressed the need to have Círdan close. Lindir was rebuilding his old persona and needed a father-figure and friend to help him finish that process. They would say their temporary goodbyes to him later.
Elrond chuckled, seeing Celeborn whirl Galadriel over the dance floor. After the wedding ceremony had been completed, they had moved to the Hall of Fire and most Elves were enjoying the feast. Even Mithrandir had appeared shortly after the ceremony and had congratulated them, hugging the couple close. The Maia now sat near the fire, talking to young Melpomaen. “Everyone seems happy.”
Celebrían nodded. “But I do not see Glorfindel anymore. Why did he leave?”
“Maybe he needed some privacy. He has tried hard to fit in and to make Imladris his new home, but I do believe the past – and more specifically his death – haunts him. I will talk to him in the morning.” He had better things to do tonight besides talking to Glorfindel. Elrond pressed a chaste kiss onto his wife’s lips. “Are you happy too?”
“Aye, I am.” She gave him a blinding smile. “And, I will be even happier when I hold our firstborn in my arms.”
Elrond blushed. “I will give you as many children as you desire.”
“I want more than just one child. Our son or daughter should not be an only child.”
Elrond’s fingertips caressed his wife’s skin, which was warm and inviting. “I want several children too.”
“We will have them,” promised Celebrían, snuggling closer to him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mithrandir smiled, seeing the newlyweds hold each other close. Elrond had been instrumental in defeating Sauron and he would need the half-Elf in the centuries to come. He wanted his friend to be happy. His gaze shifted from Elrond to Lindir, who now appeared in the doorway. Lindir was an extraordinary soul and he hoped the minstrel would find peace in the Gray Havens.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Elrond… My Lady…” Lindir bowed, although he knew that the couple would never insist he showed his respect in that way. Still, he felt it was appropriate now that the members of Elrond’s household surrounded them and he was about to say goodbye. “I am ready to depart and I am here to take my leave.”
Elrond reluctantly let go of his wife and walked toward Lindir. He placed his hands on Lindir’s shoulders and looked into the sky-blue eyes. “It pains me to see you leave. I wish you would change your mind and stay.”
“I cannot do that. My heart tells me to visit with Círdan and to find peace in his presence. I need to complete the journey I have started.” Lindir smiled, kindly. “Rest assured that I will return, meldir1. And when I do, it will be all of me who will offer you my services. I need this time to truly deal with Ereinion’s death and to find the parts of me again, which I lost.”
“I *do* understand,” said Elrond, eventually. “But I hate the thought that I will not have you at my side.”
“I will return to Imladris – to you, Elrond. Have faith in me.”
Elrond drew in a deep breath. “May your journey be swift and safe.” He had instructed twenty of his best warriors to escort Lindir to the Havens – he wasn’t taking any chances and their presence would ensure Lindir’s safety.
“I will take good care of myself.” Lindir accepted and returned the hug Elrond bestowed on him and then looked at the Lady of Imladris, bowing respectfully. “I will take my leave now.”
“Be safe,” whispered Celebrían, who had come to care about the white-haired Elf in the last few weeks. “And do return to us.”
“Thank you for your concern, my Lady. And I *will* return to you for Imladris is my home.” Lindir graced the couple with one last smile and then marched out of the Hall of Fire. His heart ached to be reunited with Círdan now that Ereinion was gone. He needed Círdan – he needed his former savior to help him make peace with the fact that he had lost Ereinion.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Glorfindel felt lost and lonely, walking the gardens alone in the dark of the night. Ithil was hidden behind a host of clouds, limiting the silver rays that managed to reach Arda. Although the wedding ceremony had been a most joyful event, it had also made him aware of the fact that he felt alone. Elrond had Celebrían, Lindir was about to leave for the Gray Havens to stay with Círdan and even Melpomaen seemed to enjoy Mithrandir’s company for the evening. So where did that leave him?
All alone.
He turned right and started for the river Bruinen. He couldn’t help but compare Gondolin to Imladris, and to his surprise he found he liked Imladris best. There was a peace and quiet here that Gondolin had lacked. Imladris was a remedy for his troubled soul, which could grow more accepting of life whilst staying here; he had accepted that he would spend the rest of his life here. And although he didn’t mind that, he did mind spending it alone.
A large weeping willow appeared to his right and seemed to magically attract him. The long branches and the whispering leaves called out to him, and he headed for the ancient tree, abandoning his former destination – the Bruinen. For one moment he felt something of a déjà vu, like he had been here before, standing beneath the weeping willow, but that was just in his imagination. He had never visited this part of the gardens before!
A noise – soft breathing – attracted his attention and Glorfindel’s brow grew furrowed. He wasn’t alone here. Had one of the feasting Elves also found his way here and stretched beneath the weeping willow to rest? His hand reached for his sword – just in case he would come upon an enemy – and he then sneaked closer, eager to find out the other being’s identity.
The lovely vision that greeted him took away his breath. His heartbeat sped up and his fingers almost dropped the sword, which he quickly sheathed again – soundlessly, so he wouldn’t disturb the Elf’s sleep.
Glorfindel reminded himself to draw in breath and once his surprise had dimmed, he went down on his heels to study the stranger. Ithil broke free from the constricting clouds and allowed him an even better look, as he sent his silver rays down to rest on the strange Elf.
Sucking in his breath in wonder, Glorfindel stared – almost entranced – at the other Elf. Long, raven hair reached past his hips and blanketed the body. The stranger wore formal robes, made from soft, black velvet and was lined with azure. The eyes had closed in sleep – which was rather unusual for their kind, but not unheard of. It usually happened when an Elf was extremely exhausted and would enter a healing sleep. Glorfindel raised his hand, wanting to touch the stranger’s face, but his fingers remained poised in the air, unwilling to disturb the other Elf’s sleep.
/I have never seen him in Imladris before./ Glorfindel prided himself on the fact that he knew every inhabitant of the valley. This Elf was a stranger. /Who are you and why did you come here?/ Hailed the stranger from Mirkwood? The Havens? Or had he accompanied the royal couple from the Golden Wood? But no, this Elf wasn’t dressed like one of the Galadhrim. /And what do I do with you?/
Although he doubted that the stranger meant harm to Imladris, it was his task to secure the valley. This Elf might be a safety risk. He didn’t want the Elf to wake up, but he had little choice; he needed to question him now.
“Wake up,” he said, shaking the raven-haired Elf gently. There was no response and Glorfindel spoke in a louder voice. “Wake up now.” But the other Elf remained deeply asleep. Realizing that the healing sleep was keeping the stranger from waking up, Glorfindel opted for action. He moved closer, pushed his arms beneath the back and knees, and lifted the other Elf in his arms.
The result of his actions was that the dark mass of hair shifted, revealing more of the stranger’s features. /He is beautiful,/ realized Glorfindel, feeling rather entranced. But then he remembered his duties and steeled his heart so the attraction wouldn’t grow. At least not until he knew the other Elf’s reason for being here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Glorfindel took the stranger to the Healing House, where one of Elrond’s healers checked on him. The healer found no injuries and declared the strange Elf fit and healthy. Glorfindel sent a servant to apprise Elrond on the strange arrival and whilst he waited for the half-Elf to arrive, he seated himself close to the bed, watching the dark-haired Elf sleep.
The strange feeling of déjà vu remained; he felt like he knew this Elf, but when he searched his memory, he found nothing that indicated he had met this person before.
“Elrond is otherwise engaged,” said Mithrandir, upon entering the room. “And I took it upon myself to act in his place.” Looking at Glorfindel, the Maia caught the grin that briefly lit the blond Elf’s features. He didn’t have to tell Glorfindel what other activities demanded Elrond’s attention. “So, whom did you find?” The servant had only mentioned Glorfindel bringing a stranger to the Healing House.
“I found him in the gardens and I tried to wake him, but he is locked in some sort of healing sleep, which seems odd as he sports no injuries. I am not certain how to proceed.” Glorfindel rose from his chair and watched Mithrandir approach the bed.
Mithrandir frowned, feeling the aura of power that surrounded the sleeping Elf. Alerted, he addressed Glorfindel. “Leave us alone. I wish to talk to him in private.”
Glorfindel reluctantly left – he would have preferred to stay and hear their exchange. He took up pacing in the corridor instead.
Mithrandir placed his right hand on the stranger’s brow and his frown deepened, sensing the liquid power running through the Elf’s mind. /Elf? This is no Elf!/ Chocolate-dark eyes opened and locked with his, momentarily stunning Mithrandir. His touch had awoken their guest!
Erestor stared into the Maia’s eyes. “Olórin, I have heard the tales that surround you. I never thought I would meet you in person, though.” Still feeling somewhat weak now that he inhabited a body again, he remained stretched out and watched Mithrandir carefully.
“Who are you?” Mithrandir removed his hand and remained on guard. He had to be sure that this one didn’t present a threat! “I sense much power in you.”
Erestor wondered what to do. In the end, he opted for the truth, realizing Mithrandir had sensed too much of his power to be mislead. /And I do not want my first words here to be lies./ Erestor slowly pushed himself into an upright position, but then had to admit defeat – he was still too weak to move about much – and lowered himself onto his back again. “I am one of the Valar.”
Mithrandir’s eyes widened; he had lived long and seen many things, but never had he witnessed one of the Valar walk Middle-Earth in a visible form. “Who are you?”
“My name is Erestor, son of Vairë and Námo.”
“I have heard rumors of your existence,” confirmed Mithrandir, who now sat down. Shock was written all over his face and he needed more information to satisfy his curiosity. “But you have the body of an Elf.”
“That is my father’s doing.”
“Námo? Why would he give his son the body of one of the Firstborn?”
“That is a long story.” Erestor closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “I missed being alive – being able to breathe.”
“You walked Arda before? As one of the Firstborn?” Erestor’s words had stunned Mithrandir. “How can that be?”
Erestor’s eyes opened and fastened with Mithrandir’s. “Do you sense evil on me, Olórin?”
“Nay, I do not, but…”
“My father sent me here.” Erestor chose his next words carefully. “To help the Firstborn… to aid them in their upcoming war against Sauron. The One Ring will be found and it will determine Arda’s fate.” It was a white lie. He knew that this particular future would come to pass and that Mithrandir would try hard to stop Sauron from being reunited with the One Ring and he used that knowledge to his advantage. He didn’t want to mention Glorfindel in this conversation. His love for Glorfindel was a private matter and didn’t belong here.
“You know the future?” He too knew this would come to pass, but had never expected the Valar to aid them. That went against the very nature of the Valar!
“I am not all-knowing like my father, but I do know the future.” Erestor tried again and this time he managed to sit upright. Ignoring the vertigo, he said, “You cannot tell anyone who I really am.”
“You wish for secrecy? Why?” He wasn’t sure he liked this development.
“You must accept my word for it that it is for the best. My identity must remain a secret.”
“Your words do not make sense,” said Mithrandir, catching Erestor flinching when he spoke those words. “But I do not sense evil intentions on your part, and I will do as you ask of me, but should you do anything to harm my friends, you will answer for your actions to me.”
“I won’t harm them,” promised Erestor. He had done better this time. When he had woken up in Gondolin, he had been unprepared for Turgon’s questions. This time, he had tried to do better. “I need an ally, Olórin. Will you help me?”
“I wish I knew your real reasons for coming here.” Mithrandir considered everything he had learned. “I will help you – for now.”
“Thank you,” said Erestor and the words came from the depths of his heart. “I must ask another favor from you.”
Mithrandir grew alert again. “What sort of favor?”
“I am a stranger here… I might know these Elves from watching my mother weaving their lives into her tapestries, but my knowledge of them is rather limited.”
Mithrandir shook his head, now that the truth settled in. This was Erestor, the son of the weaver and the Doomsman of the Valar. What had possessed Námo to give Erestor a Firstborn’s body?
“I need you to vouch for me… I need you to introduce me to Elrond.” He would be here for quite some time – or at least he hoped so – and things would be much easier if Elrond trusted him.
Mithrandir still didn’t feel completely convinced. “I will do so if you tell me the *real* reason for your coming here.”
Erestor weighed his options and in the end, he said, “I am here to make amends. I made mistakes in the past, when I lived in Gondolin, and I want to make things right again.”
“And this concerns… who?” Mithrandir was stunned to learn Erestor had lived in Gondolin. When had the Valar begun to meddle in the affairs of the Firstborn?
“Glorfindel.”
Mithrandir’s eyebrow rose in surprise. “You are here because of Glorfindel?”
“I wronged him in the past, Olórin. I am here to make amends, and if I can help them fight Sauron, I will do so. I mean well; I will harm no one.” Erestor drew in a deep breath and looked Mithrandir in the eye. “If my words do not convince you, I will allow you to look into my mind so you can see for yourself.”
But Mithrandir raised a hand and shook his head again. “That won’t be necessary.” He sensed Erestor’s sincerity – and he sensed something else as well; heartbreak. “I will aid you.”
“Thank you,” whispered Erestor, relieved now that he had secured Mithrandir’s assistance.
Mithrandir hoped that this decision wouldn’t come back to haunt him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Maeglin had fallen quiet and Ereinion leaned in closer, carefully resting his hand on the other Elf’s wrist. He almost pulled back, surprised at the burning sensation that radiated from beneath the fabric of Maeglin’s robes.
“It is because of the fire,” said Maeglin in an entranced voice. “I died in that fire. It closed around me and my flesh burned – grew charred and blistered. Even right now, it feels like I am still burning in the fire. I can never escape those flames.”
Ereinion remembered the tale – Tuor had come to his son and wife’s defense and the Man had thrown Maeglin into the fire. He shivered; the thought of eternally suffering from that fire made him uncomfortable. Feeling Maeglin shift ever so slightly, he reminded himself why he had reached out in the first place. “You agreed to tell me your life’s history,” he said in a gentle voice, hoping that Maeglin would find it in his heart to confide in him.
“It is beyond me why you wish to hear it.” Maeglin pulled away, unable to bear Ereinion’s kind touch any longer. His movement caused Ereinion’s hand to slip from his arm, breaking the contact. Maeglin seemed to shrink against the large chair and his haunted eyes were fixated on the fire that burned in Ereinion’s fire place. Ereinion couldn’t help but wonder how badly Maeglin had suffered when he had been burned alive. Did he really want to know? “Tell me. I believe that is important for you to do so.” Ereinion couldn’t tell Maeglin that Námo had engineered their meeting; Maeglin wouldn’t believe that and right now, the other Elf didn’t need to know he was being manipulated. It would only make Maeglin suspicious and even more reluctant to comply. “How did it start?”
“It started the day my mother decided to leave Gondolin. She
felt trapped, like a bird in a golden cage, and wanted out. Three warriors
accompanied her, but the four of them were separated as time passed by.”
Maeglin closed his eyes and his lungs expanded, remembering how to draw in a
deep breath as he had done whilst alive and they now mimicked that motion. “She
roamed
/Eöl lured Aredhel close./ But Ereinion didn’t speak those words, letting Maeglin tell his tale in his own pace. He leaned back into the chair and watched the troubled eyes reflect their owner’s emotions. The scars contracted on the brittle skin and Ereinion wondered if they caused Maeglin pain. Could a fëa2 feel such physical pain? Maybe this soul did – courtesy of the Valar as an eternal punishment.
“He did not approach her directly. The Dark Elf probably knew she would recoil from him and reject him. So he lured her closer, and when she was tired and lost, she saw the light that burned in his home and she approached. She found the doors open and servants appeared to do her bidding. She was relieved to have found a safe haven and did not question her luck at first. But then *he* appeared.”
Ereinion saw the misery in Maeglin’s dark eyes and wondered what Aredhel had told her son *exactly*. /I will find out,/ he realized; Maeglin would tell him.
“Maybe she was briefly attracted to him – to his dark beauty and to the will power he radiated. Maybe he bewitched her – but that changed once she realized that he desired to take her as his wife. She fled, but darkness surrounded her, trapping her, and she was forced to return to the Dark Elf.” Maeglin shivered. His mother had told him her tale after they had safely returned to Gondolin. But there were days when he wished she had never confided in him. He hadn’t wanted to know the depths of her pain and sorrow -- for it had worsened his.
“The Dark Elf’s lust overwhelmed him and he took her by force – against her will.” Maeglin’s fingers clawed at the arm rest and he kept his eyes closed, unable to meet Ereinion’s gaze now that he was making this horrid admission. “He violated her many times… She told me so. She would have faded, if she hadn’t found herself pregnant.” His dark eyes fastened on Ereinion. “Do you understand? I am a product of rape, of the Dark Elf’s lust and my mother’s pain.”
Even though he knew he was dealing with Maeglin – the traitor who had caused so many deaths and so much pain – Ereinion found himself eager to reach out and comfort this soul, but he didn’t – not yet. Maeglin had to tell his tale first.
“My mother called me Lómion, Child of the Twilight, but *he* never approved of that name. I always liked that name best, for I loved my mother best and she had given it to me. But the name was discarded and never to be used again. For the first twelve years of my life he did not think me worthy of a name. Secretly though, my mother continued to call me Lómion.”
Ereinion heard the bitterness in Maeglin’s voice and wondered what the other Elf had been like as a child. In how many ways had Eöl corrupted his son?
“My childhood was not happy. My mother and I lived in constant fear of him. She tried to flee again, but she never got very far. She always took me along, but in the end, *he* would come for us and take us home, to Nan Elmoth.” Maeglin laughed, bitterly. “Home? It was our prison, not our home!”
Maeglin wondered what possessed him to tell Ereinion these intimidate details, but he reminded himself that he didn’t have a choice. Ereinion would not let him leave until he had told him the truth. “I was still young, maybe fifteen years, when I saw him rape my mother for the first time. Until then, he had taken precautions, so I would not see him take her against her will, but something had changed. It almost seemed like he wanted me to bear witness to her terror.”
Ereinion drew in a deep breath, realizing this tale was viler than he had originally thought. He leaned in closer and this time he succeeded in securing Maeglin’s scarred hand, which he gently gathered in his. His fingertips stroked the burned skin in what was hopefully a soothing manner. “I am sorry you had to see that.”
“If only it had stopped there.”
Maeglin’s words caused shivers to run down Ereinion’s spine.
“He made me watch every time he violated my mother. Then, one day, he came to my room and…” Maeglin hid his face in shame, pulling the hood closer.
“I… I had no idea that…” Ereinion suddenly wondered if he had the right to pressure Maeglin into revealing his sad tale. But he had started now and he had to follow through. “Did he…?”
Maeglin nodded once and his features turned grim. “He gave me a choice – or at least he presented it to me in that way. He told me that I could lessen my mother’s suffering and ease her pain by taking her place. I was only twenty-five years old and felt rather helpless. What child does not want to ease his mother’s suffering? I was nothing but an insecure Elfling. What would you do?”
Maeglin’s anxious eyes met his and Ereinion’s mouth went dry. “He did not have the right…”
“My mother and I called him master, not husband or father! What choice did I have? I had the chance to ease my mother’s pain! I had the power to keep him away from her! He would not touch her against her will again! At least, that was what he said! That was what he let me think!” Maeglin’s eyes filled with tears, which he had refused to shed for millennia. “I wanted my mother safe! I did not want her to be in pain and cry during the night! I wanted to keep the monster out of her bed!”
“And so he crept into yours,” said Ereinion, shaken.
“Aye, he did.” Maeglin, realizing Ereinion was holding and stroking his hand, quickly pulled the hand away and hid it in the folds of his robes. His expression froze in terror, remembering that night when his father had robbed him of his innocence. “I had been forced to watch him take my mother against her will in the past and I knew that if I fought him, I would end up even more hurt. So I did not fight him and let him do as he pleased. I bit my bottom lip until it bled when he buried himself inside me. No scream left my lips for I did not want to alert my mother.”
Ereinion stared at Maeglin with sympathy and pity in his eyes. “I never knew…”
But Maeglin didn’t hear him. “I will never forget how much it hurt. He had rolled me onto my stomach, pressed me face down in the pillows, and then entered me. I had never known such pain before, but I thought of my mother and told myself that by doing this, I would keep the Dark Elf away from her.”
Ereinion’s eyes grew moist, realizing the Elfling had died that night and Maeglin had been born. Lómion hadn’t survived the rape.
“He told me I had done well and that I was now truly his son. He even said he was proud that I had accepted my fate.” Maeglin’s voice filled with latent rage. “The next night, he snuck into my bed again. Under the cover of night, he tore into me, making me bleed. After he had finished, he said he had marked me and that my blood was the proof that I was his now. I did not even react to his degrading comments, for I was hurting too much. My lower body burned and blood dripped down my thighs.”
Ereinion cried out in distress, uncertain he could take much more of this horrible tale.
“I told you that you did not want to hear this, but you insisted.” For one moment, malice sounded in his voice, but it died and old pain appeared in its place. “I thought that I had bought my mother’s freedom with my surrender, but… I was so very wrong. I would not find out how wrong for years.”
Maeglin’s fingernails cut deeply into the wood, remembering… “He took me with him on his trips to the Dwarves. He would take me deep beneath the earth, into their caves where the sun’s beams did not reach. He would leave me there for days, coming to me at nights to use my body as he pleased. During the days, I learned all I could from the Dwarves in the hope that it would serve me well in the future. Maybe it would help me escape my father’s reign of terror one day. During the nights, I forced myself to submit to his lust.”
Ereinion sat paralyzed, finally realizing he had opened a can of worms by making Maeglin confront his past.
“We always returned *home* – to mother, and I was always happy to see her. She seemed to grow stronger over the years and I thought it was because *he* left her alone now. But I was wrong. One night, he first took his dirty pleasure from my body and then he dragged me along to their bedroom, where he made me watch him rape her. My sacrifice had been in vain and I began to plot our escape.”
Although Ereinion knew how the tale would end, he said, “Tell me what happened next.” Maeglin’s eyes were pools of black and he wondered if the other soul had heard him.
“Our chance eventually came and my mother decided to head for Gondolin. We walked day and night and never rested, so great was our fear that *he* would find us.”
Maeglin’s eyes briefly became alive and sparkled with joy.
“I will never forget the first time I lay eyes upon the
/Turgon took him under his wing… Maeglin became his confidant,/ thought Ereinion, but he didn’t interrupt Maeglin and allowed him to continue.
“I did not know how to act amongst these Elves. They were full of light, radiant and friendly. I had only known anger and aggression and that was when I made my first mistake. Out of fear I distanced myself from them. I grew arrogant and spiteful. Maybe some of my father showed up in me then and…” Maeglin’s voice broke. “I cannot continue.”
Ereinion reached for a crystal flask, filled with wine, and poured Maeglin a glass. Finding that Námo still supplied them with food and drink in death had stunned him at first, but he had quickly realized that having something that reminded him of being alive soothed him. “Drink this.”
“I cannot. It is part of my punishment. The ‘pleasures’ of the souls are not for me.” Maeglin sagged backwards, not caring that he looked like a pitiful heap of emotions.
Ereinion rose from his chair, covered the small distance between them, and sat down on the armrest. “Drink this.”
“I told you I cannot!” screamed Maeglin – annoyed that Ereinion refused to listen to him.
“Try.” Ereinion had the feeling things were changing for Maeglin and that this was merely the beginning of it. “Sip.”
Glaring at Ereinion, Maeglin’s shaky fingers curled around
the glass and he drank of the sweet liquid, not expecting to actually taste the
wine. But he did, and his eyes almost bulged from their sockets. “What?” His hand was really *holding* the glass and
not passing through it.
Ereinion pulled his chair closer to Maeglin’s and sat down, leaning forward. “You experienced something no Elf – let alone an Elfling – should experience. You did what you thought was best.”
Maeglin shook his head; feeling quite dazed, he first stared at the wine and then slowly sipped. He couldn’t believe he actually tasted the wine! “I should have fought him the first time he sneaked into my bed. I should have fought him and killed him instead of offering myself to him. I corrupted my soul by giving in so easily.”
“You were a child. You did not know better and you were desperate to protect your mother. You are not to blame.”
“Oh, but I am!” Maeglin’s bitter laugh echoed through the room once more. “You see, I should have killed him when I had the chance, for he followed us to Gondolin and demanded we leave with him. The High-King did not want us to go and gave the Dark Elf a choice. He could either stay in Gondolin or die. Eöl wanted to make that decision for me. He tried to kill me, Ereinion. He wanted to kill his son.”
Ereinion knew how that fateful day had ended, but kept quiet.
“My mother shielded me with her own body and caught the spear destined to end my life. At first, we did not think she was mortally wounded, but the tip carried poison and she died that very night.” Maeglin shivered. “Her soul dwells here. I have watched her from afar.”
“You never tried to approach her?”
“She cannot sense my presence. No one can – except for you.” Maeglin frowned. “I wonder why that is.” The empty glass almost slipped from his fingers, but Ereinion caught it. “I should finish my tale.” The sooner he finished it, the better, and then he could finally leave.
“Take your time.” Ereinion had never known the real reason for the darkness that had always clung to Maeglin, but now he understood. As an Elfling, Maeglin had been submitted to unthinkable abuse and it had hindered his normal development, making him into someone different than who he was supposed to be.
“My mother died and they threw my father over the Northern Wall to his death. All of a sudden, I was an orphan, set free in a world I knew nothing about. Turgon took me under his wing and assigned me rooms close to his. That first night, I lay awake, almost expecting him to come to my room and claim what my father had claimed. But he didn’t and slowly I became less paranoid – less intimidated. And then I saw her… Idril…”
“Idril…” Maeglin’s desire to have Idril as his wife had caused Gondolin’s Fall for Morgoth had promised her to him.
Maeglin, feeling ashamed of his past actions, lowered his eyes. Ereinion’s eyes were warm, even forgiving, and he couldn’t deal with that. “I do not believe I truly loved her, for I think I am incapable of love. I coveted her. I wanted her.”
“Why did you covet her?”
“She was pure, Ereinion. She was like a Silmaril, pure and radiant, like my mother must have been before the Dark Elf laid his dirty hands on her.” Maeglin shivered, realizing only too well that he had followed in his father’s footsteps. “She was so pure that I thought that by taking her as my wife she would wash away my stains. She would make me whole again. She would take away the darkness my father had tainted me with. But she sensed my evil and turned away from me. She chose Tuor as her husband and I believed that I would never find redemption if I let her slip through my fingers.”
Ereinion blinked, perplexed to hear Maeglin’s reasoning.
“I wanted to be as pure as she was. I wanted my innocence back and she still possessed that innocence. It was part of her soul and I hungered for it – for her warmth, her acceptance… Her forgiveness.”
Ereinion placed his hand on Maeglin’s knee and squeezed gently. “You should have sought that forgiveness within yourself.”
“Aye, you are right, but I did not understand that at the time. Tarnished, ashamed and angry, I believed I could only reach redemption through her. My needs devoured me and when Morgoth offered Idril to me…” Growing aware of Ereinion’s hand, which rested on his knee, he shyly sought out the brown eyes. “I fought Morgoth at first. I sensed his evil, an evil that reminded me of my father. I did not want to give in, but… but he tortured me. Morgoth knew what my father had done to me and threatened to do the same thing to me again. His minions touched me… And just before they intended to rape me, he offered me Idril – he offered me my redemption. I was not thinking rationally at that moment. His minions had forced me onto my hands and knees and I could feel them behind me. I knew what would happen next… and then he offered me a way out. I was a coward and took it.” Maeglin bowed his head and lowered his eyes. “Damning my soul further.”
Ereinion was lost for words and could only listen – enthralled.
“When I returned to Gondolin I had changed. I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. I had become obsessed by Idril – by my need to make her mine. Then, Morgoth attacked and I made my move – I went to Idril’s house. I found them there, Idril and her son. Eärendil, he…”
Ereinion rested his other hand on Maeglin’s back and fought back the urge to pull away when a burning sensation radiated from beneath the fabric.
“He reminded me of how my life could have been if my father had not laid his hands upon me and had left my mother alone. Idril adored her son and Tuor loved him dearly. I had wanted that too, but my father had been abusive and my mother… She was a victim also. Rage came over me and I wanted to smite him down, but… fate decided differently. Tuor cast me into the fire and I burned… My soul burned.”
Moved by Maeglin’s story, Ereinion rubbed the charred back.
“I was taken before the Valar and they decided on a punishment for me. I was to walk these Halls for eternity – unseen and unnoticed.” Maeglin felt exhausted now that he had unburdened his tainted soul for the first time in his life. “For the first hundred years I fought their decision, but… solitude has made me seen the wrong of my ways. I now understand that I deserve my punishment – which was surprisingly mild. I would have punished myself much harsher had I been called upon to judge myself. I would have condemned myself to burn in fire for all eternity… What I did… The deaths I caused… I can never make amends…”
Exhausted, Maeglin sagged forward, but was caught by Ereinion, who quickly wrapped a steadying arm around Maeglin, who had obviously fainted. When he had sat Maeglin down he had never expected to hear such a ghastly tale. Sharing his tale had worn Maeglin down and the soul had retreated – mimicking a state of unconsciousness.
“Now you know the ugly truth.” Námo left the shadows of the corner and looked Ereinion in the eye. Had he found the soul he had been hoping to find for millennia? Was Ereinion the one destined to set Maeglin’s tormented fëa free?
“Why me? Why did you allow me to notice him?” Ereinion stared questioningly at the Vala. He was certain that Námo had a hidden agenda, but what was it that the Vala wanted from him?
“I had nothing to do with it.” Now that was a half lie – a white lie. “It was your compassionate nature that noticed him.” Námo considered his next step. “Things have changed for Lómion. Things have also changed for you.”
“What do you want me to do? What do you want from me?” Ereinion frowned, wondering why Námo had called Maeglin Lómion. He just knew there was a deeper meaning to that!
“Telling you about his ordeal has left him weak. He has walked these Halls for millennia without a rest. His fëa is weary.” His expression was oddly compassionate, as he looked upon Maeglin’s crumbled form.
“But, we – fëar3 – do not need to rest!”
“But even souls need to dream,” pointed out Námo, softly.
The compassionate expression, which had appeared in Námo’s eyes earlier, worried Ereinion for some reason. What *exactly* were the Vala’s plans for Maeglin?
“Ereinion…I am allowing him to rest for the first time in millennia. Maybe you should watch over him? Nightmares will be upon him. He has never dealt with his past and you opened old wounds.”
“I never knew… I never suspected!” Ereinion rose from his chair, and now that his support was gone, Maeglin began to fall forward. Ereinion quickly caught the other Elf and carried Maeglin over to his bed, where he gently laid him down. “Námo, I need to know why you chose me…” Ereinion had turned around to study Námo’s expression, but then found the Vala was gone. He was alone with Maeglin – or should he call him Lómion?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, Elrond and Glorfindel entered the Healing House. Elrond felt relaxed and happy, after spending the night in his wife’s arms. Glorfindel however, had grown anxious and nervous since finding the stranger beneath the weeping willow.
“I am certain that there is a logical explanation for this Elf’s presence in the gardens,” said Elrond, trying to calm down his friend. “He was exhausted and asleep, and thus hardly posed a threat to Imladris.”
Glorfindel didn’t know why he felt this ill at ease. He just did. “Elrond, we need to be careful. We have built a safe haven in this valley and we must keep it secure.”
Elrond halted, which forced Glorfindel to come to a stop as well. He raised a hand and placed it on his friend’s shoulder. “Vilya keeps this valley protected. Trust me when I say that no evil will enter unnoticed. If this Elf presented a danger, the Ring of Power would have let me know.”
Glorfindel eyed Vilya, which sat proudly on Elrond’s ring finger. “You are probably right,” he admitted with a sigh. “But I cannot help feeling protective – Gondolin…”
“The
“You speak wisely. I will try to heed your words.”
“Good! And now let us visit with your mysterious Elf.” Elrond pushed the door open and stepped inside.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mithrandir looked up and smiled at Elrond. “Ah, I was wondering when you would join me!”
The naughty twinkling in the old eyes told Elrond that Mithrandir knew exactly why he hadn’t joined them earlier and he grinned. “I can hardly desert my wife on our first night as a married couple! Now, where is that Elf Glorfindel found?” The bed was unoccupied.
“I told him to wash up.” Mithrandir raised a hand and gestured for Elrond and Glorfindel to walk up to him. Once the two Elves were close enough, he said, “He hails from Mirkwood and carried a message for me. He is a spy.”
“He can be trusted, then?” Glorfindel frowned, deeply.
“Aye, he can be trusted. He is one of my confidants.” Mithrandir hoped he was doing the right thing by introducing Erestor as someone trustworthy. “He was searching for me, but fatigue caught up with him after his long journey and sleep overwhelmed him. He has handed me the message in the meantime.”
“And does he have a name?” Glorfindel’s breath caught when the stranger finally emerged from the bathroom. Clad only in black leggings, the sight the stranger presented was breath-taking; the long raven hair danced – unbound – against the small of the Elf’s back. Alabaster skin enhanced the stranger’s beauty and the dark eyes seemed pools of midnight-sky. There was something very familiar about that Elf, but at the same time, Glorfindel felt on guard, as if he didn’t trust him.
“My name is Mornén,” said Erestor, unwilling to reveal his real name to Glorfindel, as he didn’t know what kind of impact hearing it would have on his former lover. He forced himself to remain at a distance, although he wanted to run to Glorfindel, fling himself into the strong arms and shower the beloved face with kisses. He couldn’t do that anymore – he had lost the right to do so.
Again, he asked himself why his father had sent him back to Arda. He had never expected for that to happen and it shocked him that Námo had actually proceeded without consulting with him first. /I will ask him the next time we meet./ Unfortunately, his father wasn’t present now and he had to deal with this unexpected situation himself. “I hail from Mirkwood – from King Thranduil’s court.”
Elrond sighed. He had always wanted to befriend Thranduil. The young King must have been lonely after Oropher had died.
“My Lord?” Erestor wondered about Elrond’s peculiar reaction. “Did I say something wrong?”
“I was reminded that I wanted certain matters to develop differently in the past.” Elrond forced a weak smile onto his face. “Will you do me the honor of being my guest for some days? You will want to rest before returning to Mirkwood.”
Erestor had no intention of leaving for Mirkwood. He wanted to stay close to Glorfindel – his heart and his love. To have Glorfindel this close was pure torment, as he couldn’t touch him or whisper confessions of his love. But the fact that Glorfindel tolerated his presence encouraged him. As Námo had erased Glorfindel’s memories of him, he hoped that the anger was also gone. But when he studied the lovely blue eyes closely, he still saw hints of suspicion there.
Mithrandir, whose senses were trained on Erestor, realized something of the tragic fate that had befallen the Vala. “Elrond,” he said, giving his friend a conspiring look. “Mornén has Thranduil’s trust… maybe you should befriend him and encourage him to stay for a longer period of time? He could act as your liaison to Thranduil.” Although Thranduil knew nothing of Erestor’s existence, the Woodland King did trust the Maia and Mithrandir would act as the liaison at first and then gradually introduce Erestor to Thranduil as a trustworthy ally.
“That is an excellent idea,” mumbled Elrond, seeing the chance he had been waiting for. Maybe Thranduil and he could work on building some sort of relationship, which would benefit both their realms.
Erestor gave Mithrandir a thankful look. The Maia’s quick thinking had assured him of a place in Elrond’s household.
Glorfindel cocked his head, uncertain whether to applaud this development – because it meant Mornén would stay – or to feel suspicious instead. His feelings were at war with each other.
It was Erestor who eventually broke the ice. First, he thanked Elrond. “My Lord Elrond, I won’t disappoint you. I will work hard on improving the relationship between Mirkwood and Imladris.” After seeing Elrond nod his approval, he finally addressed the one he had never stopped loving. Glorfindel was as lovely as he had been on that first day when they had met in Gondolin and he fell all over again for the warrior. “My name is Mornén,” he said, privately cringing, as he realized he was lying to Glorfindel once more. But he couldn’t introduce himself as Erestor, and risk Glorfindel’s memories waking up. He had to win Glorfindel’s trust first! “May I know yours?”
“I am Glorfindel,” he said, introducing himself.
“I am honored to meet you. Your name has become legend amongst our people.” Erestor extended his right hand, hoping Glorfindel would accept it.
Glorfindel stared at the offered hand for a long moment, realizing that for some reason he had reached a crossroad in his life. His eyes locked with brown ones and he shivered; they seemed so familiar!
“Glorfindel!” Elrond, feeling awkward now that Glorfindel didn’t shake Erestor’s hand, nudged his friend and Captain.
In the end, Glorfindel curled his fingers around Erestor’s and his eyes widened, knowing upon contact that his life was about to drastically change. But would it be for the better?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“These will be your rooms, for now,” said Elrond, who had walked Erestor to his temporary quarters. “In time, I will assign permanent ones to you -- after the wedding guests have left.” At the moment, the Last Homely House was crowded with Elves.
“Thank you, my Lord. You are very kind to show me to them personally.” Erestor liked Elrond… There was much of Eärendil in the Lord of Imladris.
“It is no trouble,” assured Elrond. “But I must leave now. My wife is waiting for me to join her for a walk in the gardens.” He beamed with pride and happiness, speaking those words.
“Then you should not make her wait.” Erestor opened the door to his rooms and bowed respectfully. “I am at your disposal.”
“Excellent. I will send Melpomaen to escort you to my study when it is time for work.” Elrond felt pleased, as he turned and exited the corridor. He finally had a chance to work on improving relations with Thranduil.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“No! Leave me be!”
The screamed words, uttered in utmost distress caused Ereinion to jump to his feet. He had been dozing, seated in a chair next to the bed, and although Maeglin’s sleep had been restless, he hadn’t expected the violent outburst that followed. Maeglin’s haunted eyes still carried traces of heavy sleep and the other Elf screamed his pain at his imaginary tormentor.
There was no doubt in Ereinion’s mind that Eöl was very real for Maeglin as long as Maeglin was in this state of half-sleep, and he acted quickly by sitting down on the side of the bed, trying to calm his charge down. “It was a nightmare – nothing but a nightmare.”
“Do not touch me!” Maeglin spat the words, raised his arms and tried to push his assailant away.
Maeglin’s facial expression showed fear, anger and panic, which made Ereinion cringe. He had considered taking Maeglin into his arms in an attempt to calm him, but discarded that idea now, remembering the way Lindir had reacted the first time he had tried to hug the minstrel. He remained at a distance instead, and tried to soothe Maeglin by speaking softly to him. “You are safe now. He is not here. You need to wake up and realize you are safe.” Ereinion wavered; what name was he supposed to use? For some reason Maeglin seemed inappropriate, though he couldn’t explain why. “Lómion? Please wake up?”
The panic in Maeglin’s dark eyes faded and wonder appeared instead. Returning to full awareness, he blinked, and then recognized Ereinion seated at his side. His head reeled after everything he had been through and he had a hard time understanding and accepting what had happened. “What did you call me?” Why would Ereinion call him that?
“Lómion,” repeated Ereinion. “Did you not tell me that you preferred that name?” Ereinion carefully reached out and managed to cradle the other Elf’s hand in his. His fingertips moved over the damaged skin, which still carried imprints of the blisters and burns the fire had left.
“I did prefer that name, but…” Maeglin lowered his eyes. He didn’t deserve Ereinion’s understanding and compassion -- he had done too many evil deeds in the past. “You should not be here – with me.”
Ereinion’s gaze was soft and kind when he raised Maeglin’s chin to make eye contact with the other Elf. “I really think you should not be alone right now.”
“I probably disturbed you by screaming out, but…” Maeglin closed his eyes, unable to maintain eye contact any longer. The compassion he saw in Ereinion’s eyes was killing him – he didn’t deserve it! “But it has been so long since I dreamt – since I had a nightmare. I had forgotten what it was like.” Suffering from nightmares was something he could definitely do without!
“I do not mind. You have every right to scream out your pain, for what your father did to you was wrong.” Ereinion softly brushed the scarred skin beneath his fingers. The hood had fallen back, revealing the full extent of what the fire had done. Hair was missing and black skin showed instead.
“Do not look at me like that. I beg of you – do not. I am hideous to look at.” Maeglin kept his eyes closed and tried to turn his head away from Ereinion, but the fingers remained in place beneath his chin, preventing him from looking away. “I was fair in life. Many Elves told me so and admired my beauty, but on the inside, I was hideous, just as hideous as I am now on the outside. I deserve this.”
/You deserved this in the past, but you have changed./ Ereinion caressed the brittle facial skin. “Open your eyes for me?” He had forced Maeglin to confront his past and now he had to follow through.
Maeglin opened his eyes, and seeing the expression in Ereinion’s eyes caused tremors to shake his body. There was understanding there – something he had never expected to find.
“Tell me, how much of Lómion survived? Is there still anything left of him?” Ereinion felt how Maeglin’s tremors worsened; but, he had expected that particular reaction and didn’t let it deter him from his chosen path. “Do I still see something of him in your eyes?”
Maeglin swallowed, his throat aching as it was painfully dry. “He died. He died when the Dark Elf forced himself upon him.” This was one subject he didn’t want to elaborate on.
“Is that so? Is that the truth? If it is, then why do you tremble beneath my touch? Why is there this need in your eyes?”
“I do not wish to discuss this!” He had to protect himself – the little that was left of him. Lómion couldn’t have survived!
Ereinion knew he had to back off and allow Maeglin to gather his strength. “It appears things have changed for you. Námo must have approved of these changes; otherwise they would never have taken place.”
“I do not understand why he would allow this.” Maeglin finally found the courage to move away from Ereinion and the former High-King’s hand dropped onto the mattress. Maeglin looked at it with wonder – he had felt that touch!
“By the Grace of the Valar things are changing. Maybe they have improved?” Ereinion considered his next step. /I have to keep him here and I have to make certain he feels comfortable in my presence./ Ereinion didn’t plan on letting Maeglin out of his sight.
Maeglin stared at Ereinion’s hand, remembering how wonderful that touch had felt. Had he ever been touched in anything else besides lust? Aye, his mother had touched him, but always with sorrow in her eyes and he understood why. She had never wanted to bear the Dark Elf a child and he even admired her for being able to love him like she had. He was nothing but the product of marital rape.
“Lómion?”
“Do not call me that…” Shivers ran down his spine. “Lómion died. He is no longer alive… he cannot be…”
“Is that what you are scared of? That you found a part of yourself you had thought lost?” Ereinion understood why that would scare Maeglin – had he been in the other Elf’s shoes, he would have felt terrified too.
Maeglin’s eyes became defiant, staring into Ereinion’s. “He is dead – ripped to pieces. Only Maeglin – the traitor – remained.”
“I do not believe you,” said Ereinion in a calm tone. “I believe that more of Lómion has survived than you know – than you want to acknowledge.” Ereinion wasn’t prepared to stop Maeglin when the other Elf leapt from the bed and ran toward the door. He watched how Maeglin’s fingers curled around the doorknob, and he told himself to go after Maeglin, for else he might never see the other Elf again, but then the fingers passed through the metal. No matter how hard Maeglin tried, he couldn’t turn the doorknob! Releasing a relieved sigh, he rose from the bed and advanced on Maeglin. “You do not have to confront this now. You should rest instead.”
“Rest?” Maeglin spun around. “How in Elbereth’s name am I ever going to find anything that resembles rest? I thought it was a curse that the Valar took away my ability to dream, but now I understand it was a blessing! I do not want to suffer those nightmares again! They haunted me for most of my life!”
“Maybe we can find a way to deal with them until they go away?” Ereinion raised his arm, offering Maeglin his hand and his support, provided the other Elf wanted it.
“We?” He must have misheard! “And what makes you think that they will *ever* go away?” He shook over his entire body and stared at the offered hand like it was a snake in disguise.
“I had a friend once who was forced to watch whilst Orcs raped and murdered his friends. They then tried to force themselves on him. It took him many years, but he learned to deal with the memories and in the end, he overcame them.”
“How do you know he did? Maybe he was just pretending.”
“He became my lover and showed me that he had overcome his memories. Aye, I know it hurts right now because your memories have just resurfaced in full force, but they will dim, and in the end, they will lose their ability to frighten you.”
Maeglin shook his head. “Your friend was never raped himself. He did not know…”
“Lómion, you are strong! You can face this and come out of it even stronger. Take my hand. Accept what I am offering.”
“You do not understand.” Maeglin’s anger had faded and despair appeared. “Even if I learnt to deal with it, what purpose would that serve? Why should I fight? I have nothing left to fight for! I am damned to walk these corridors forever.”
“You are not alone *now*, are you?” Ereinion gave Maeglin a weak smile. “As long as you are here you are not alone. Stay. Stay, and face the memories which scare you the most.”
“I cannot. I failed in the past and I will fail again.” But Ereinion’s hand remained extended and he found himself raising his hand in turn, reaching for it. /Do not do it! Keep him at a distance! Lómion is dead! He cannot be brought back!/
“I have faith in you,” said Ereinion, deeply touched, seeing Maeglin reach for him. He quickly gathered the trembling hand in his and pulled Maeglin closer. “I have faith in Lómion.”
“You should not. Lómion is no more.” It was as if his feet moved of their own accord and he went to Ereinion, standing close to him. By the Grace of the Valar, it was almost like he could feel the other soul’s body heat. But that was impossible! They weren’t alive! Ereinion couldn’t emanate any body warmth!
“That is where you are wrong. Lómion has been asleep for a long time – running from the nightmares, but he has awoken and I do not want him to go back to sleep again.”
“You are wrong.”
“Nay, I am not and I will prove it to you.” In the dark eyes, Ereinion saw exhaustion and the desire to dream – to dream of pleasant things. “Come with me, meldir.”
Maeglin shivered; no one called him friend. “You are making a grave mistake.”
“I am not.” Ereinion took control of the situation and pulled Maeglin toward the bed. To his relief, the other Elf didn’t put up any resistance and joined him willingly. “Sit down, Lómion.”
Maeglin complied – glad that he could sit down for his knees almost gave way beneath him. Every time that Ereinion addressed him by his given name, he felt warmer – welcome. He had never felt welcome before.
Ereinion sat down, rested his back against the headboard of the bed and pulled Maeglin into his arms. “Maybe my presence will bring you peaceful dreams. Will you try?”
Did he have a choice? Did he want to have a choice? Maeglin gave in – weary from fighting Ereinion – from fighting himself. Resting against Ereinion, he grew calm and accepting. He didn’t know why, but apparently, the Valar had decided to change the terms of his existence. He didn’t dare to hope that it would be for the better!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ecthelion had grown worried, finding that Ereinion hadn’t joined them in the main hall for quite some time. He had thought that the former king had accepted his death and new existence and had stopped isolating himself, but maybe he had been wrong. After debating the matter privately, he eventually decided to seek Ereinion out and invite him to join them.
Softly, he knocked on the door to Ereinion’s rooms, but when no answer was forthcoming, he pushed it ajar. A frown appeared on his brow, finding not one, but two Elves occupying the bed. As Ereinion’s eyes were blank, Ecthelion approached soundlessly, not wanting to wake the former king and the other fëa. This other Elf puzzled him, as he could only see the dark robes he was wearing. The face was hidden deep within the confines of a hood, only a few strands of dark hair peeked out. What Elf – soul – had founds its way into Ereinion’s bed?
What was he supposed to do? Stay, or leave? Now that he knew that Ereinion wasn’t alone he felt reassured. Apparently, Ereinion had found new company, which had taken away his need to join them in the main hall. Wasn’t that for the best? He stole back to the doorway, opened, and then closed the door behind him. He would check on Ereinion later. For now, he would join Turgon and the others in the main hall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Maeglin felt relieved, hearing Ecthelion close the door. Although he was invisible to all souls except Ereinion, he had felt suffocated knowing Ecthelion was so close. The amount of guilt he felt was oppressive and he wasn’t certain he could have born Ecthelion’s presence for a longer time. Every time he saw one of the Elves he had wronged, he was overcome by guilt and self-hate.
Morgoth had so easily convinced him to turn against his own kind! He had accepted what Morgoth had offered after coveting Idril for so long. He should have fought harder – should have endured the rape. He should have let Morgoth end his life. Finding death at the Evil One’s hand would have been an honorable solution, for then he wouldn’t have betrayed Gondolin.
His past deeds would always haunt him and the memories kept him from finding any kind of redemption. The Valar had punished him for his crimes, but he wished they had punished him harsher. The fact that he had found comfort in Ereinion’s arms seemed like blasphemy. He wasn’t entitled to such comfort!
“You should be resting,” said Ereinion, who had awoken due to Maeglin’s troubled thoughts, which had found him in his dreams. “Not brooding. I know that your thoughts are disturbed, but have your dreams improved? Did the nightmares leave you alone?” Contrary to the last time when Maeglin had rested against him and had screamed himself awake, the other soul had rested peacefully this time – at least that was what Ereinion thought.
“My sleep was undisturbed by nightmares,” admitted Maeglin. His next confession slipped out unwanted. “I wonder how long this peaceful feeling will last and why the Valar are allowing this.”
“I do not know the answers to your questions for certain, but I do think the time has come for you to move on.”
“Move on? Where to?” Maeglin was more frightened than he wanted Ereinion to know. He didn’t know what to expect now that his existence had been upended. “Is it back to walking the corridors for me? Unseen? Or… Does something worse lie ahead of me?”
“I doubt you will ever go back to walking the corridors unnoticed by others.” Maeglin shivered and Ereinion promptly tightened his hold on him.
Maeglin didn’t know how to react to being held so close. Why was the former king so determined to keep him close and comfort him? “A worse fate must await me then.” A terrible thought came to him. “You can see me. What if the others can see me too?” His eyes widened, showing panic. “They would never accept my presence! They hate me and… They would shun me at best!”
Ereinion considered Maeglin’s fears. “This is about you – not them. I might be wrong, but I have the feeling that the Valar understand that you have grown – that you have learned and admitted your faults. Maybe this is their way of offering you redemption.”
“What redemption would I find when they look at me with hatred in their eyes? Hatred, which I fully deserve!”
/Maybe this is where *they* need to do *their* growing?/ Ereinion gave Maeglin a thoughtful look. “You have admitted and accepted your mistakes. You are ready to grow and deal with your guilt – your self-hatred. Maybe the Valar want them to learn something as well?”
Maeglin shrugged his shoulders once. “There is no excuse for the crimes I committed!”
Ereinion nodded once. “I am not speaking about excuses, but what you told me about Eöl made me understand why you did the things you did. You *do* realize that your father had no right to do those things to you? He abused you in the worst way possible and damaged your soul by raping you.”
“Do not speak those words aloud.” Ereinion’s words caused a terrible scene to appear on his retina and he froze, terrified.
Ereinion immediately noticed Maeglin tensing against him. “What is it? What haunts you?”
“One time, he… he told me to come to his rooms… There was a large mirror there… It reflected the moonlight that night.” Maeglin shook his head, wondering just *why* he was telling Ereinion his worst memory. “He took me, standing in front of it and ordered me to watch. I saw him… I saw everything in that mirror. I saw the lust in his eyes – the evil grin when he buried himself in my body. And I saw my face – my eyes. They appeared dead to me at first, but they broke when the pain traveled up my insides.”
Ereinion shivered. Just when he had thought that he had heard Maeglin’s worst memory, the other soul would share something even more painful with him. “You need to deal with the pain, instead of pushing it away. You were hurt – badly – by your own father.”
“I never looked upon him as my father,” whispered Maeglin, still trying hard to shake off those unsettling memories. Ereinion’s fingertips unexpectedly caressed his scarred face and Maeglin involuntarily met the dark eyes. “How can you reach out and accept me? All these millennia I have felt tainted. And now I feel unworthy of your touch.”
Ereinion buried him in a loose hug. He had intended to tighten his hold further, but then realized it might feel too constrictive to Maeglin. “I understand that you feel tainted. I even understand that you feel unworthy. But the fact is that you were abused does not lessen your worth.” Maeglin began to tremble against him. Although he had hoped for that particular reaction to surface, he hadn’t expected it yet. Knowing hearing the right words was very important for Maeglin, he added, “You said that Lómion did not survive – I say differently. I think he has been protecting himself, hiding away for a very long time. It is safe to come out, you know. You are safe in my arms. Lómion, it is safe to come out.”
Maeglin’s eyes shed bitter tears at hearing those words. “He cannot come out. He is dead.”
“Nay, Lómion is very much alive. The fact that you are here – in my arms – confirms that. You are not the evil Elf many of our kin think you are. You are hurt – damaged – even, but there is hope, even for you. But you have to accept me and the guidance I am offering.”
“I am scared…”
“I know you are, but how else can you deal with this? It was Lómion who had to endure the abuse and who could not take it. That was when Maeglin appeared. He was a stronger persona and he managed to flee with his mother. But Maeglin stayed, whilst you no longer needed him. Put Maeglin to rest. He has served his purpose. Please, find the courage to become Lómion again.”
Some of Ereinion’s words made no sense to Maeglin, but others did. “How do I put him to rest? He has served me well. He ensured my survival.” Had he finally lost his mind?
“Do you still remember how it felt to be Lómion – maybe even before the abuse started? Do you remember how it felt to be loved by your mother? To be a child?”
“Vaguely… I was always on my guard.” Feeling lost and confused, he lifted his head and his big eyes met Ereinion’s. “I do not think Lómion ever *really* existed. He always had to be careful not to attract the Dark Elf’s attention.”
“You never had the chance to be a child and to grow – to become the one you were supposed to be. You have a second chance now. Will you allow Lómion to surface? Can you put Maeglin to rest? You no longer need him.”
“I…” Maeglin’s dark, haunted eyes probed Ereinion’s and then he opted for the truth. “I cannot do that on my own. Lómion is scared… He remembers the pain inflicted on him.”
Ereinion grew sad, realizing just how badly Eöl had damaged his son. “You *are” Lómion. You might not want to hear that, but you are. Hidden deep within Maeglin is Lómion and he has already begun to come out.”
Maeglin remained unconvinced. “I cannot do this alone.”
“You do not have to do it alone, meldir. Don’t you understand what I am offering? I am willing to walk that path with you.”
“But…” But the other souls would never allow it!
“Lómion, it is only you and I in here. I won’t leave you and I do not want you to leave either. Stay with me and accept my support. Embrace this opportunity to become the person you were supposed to be and stop being the one your father made you into. What do you say? Do you have the necessary courage? Are you willing to put your trust in me? I helped one Elf recover in the past and I believe the things I experienced with him will help me guide you better.”
“Why? Why are you offering me this? Why do this for me?” Oh, the answers to those questions were important to Lómion. It would determine if he was willing to face his past or not!
“Why? Because I care. Because I do not want you to be in pain. Because everyone deserves a second chance and the Valar brought you to me. I believe that I can help you. That I can support and guide you. I want you to be you – not this… shell Eöl created.”
“You care about me, then?” That concept baffled him.
“Aye, I care – I care more than you are probably willing to believe. I feel sorry for Maeglin, for the choices he made, and he has been punished enough. Aside from the fallen Elves in Gondolin there is another victim and that is you, Lómion. I believe that your time has come to *be* -- to exist. Maybe even to experience the things you had to do without in your short life.”
Ereinion’s words broke Maeglin’s resistance and he sobbed – heartbroken -- in the former king’s arms. “I am scared…”
“I know that you are scared, Lómion. But I will keep the monster away. He won’t knock on your door ever again. He won’t force you ever again. I promise to protect you and stand by you until you are strong again and can do without my support.” Would the other soul accept his offer? Trembling himself, Ereinion placed his finger beneath the other Elf’s chin and slowly raised the head so he could look into the big eyes. The expression on the face was different and so were the eyes – those were the eyes of a child; a very startled and scared child.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Why did you do this?” Erestor spun around, sensing his father’s presence in the corner of the bedroom. “Why didn’t you at least warn me?”
Námo gave his son a smile. “Would you have accepted my decision, had I told you?”
“Nay! How could you do this? How could you let Glorfindel find me? Do you know how much it hurts to have him close and yet being unable to kiss him?” Erestor glared at his father.
“That is exactly why I did what I did,” said Námo, advancing on his son. “You deserve a second chance at happiness.”
“But… Glorfindel does not remember me! He does not remember loving me! And when I look into his eyes, I see suspicion there! He remembers he cannot trust me!”
Námo shook his head. “Glorfindel is in charge of Imladris’ defenses. Of course he does not trust you -- yet. You might be a threat and he will closely watch you until you have convinced him otherwise.”
“What are you trying to tell me?” His father’s scheming baffled Erestor.
“You were right when you realized that you have to win his trust and love all over again. This time, you can do it in times of peace. Imladris will be a safe place for the next several centuries. Elrond’s children will be born and you will help raise them. You will work closely together with Glorfindel and you will receive the second chance you never allowed yourself to hope for. Erestor, it is up to *you* to make this work. In Gondolin, Glorfindel was still rather naive and enchanted by your beauty. But, he has matured. Although he still thinks you beautiful, he won’t open his heart to you as easily as he did that first time. *You* will have to court *him* and make him see that your love is true. But do it slowly – gain his trust first.”
“I still cannot believe you really did this!” Erestor turned and studied himself in the large mirror, standing in a corner of the room. He looked like he had during his life in Gondolin, though the eyes were different; they were older and spoke of loss and regrets.
Námo approached his son and wrapped an arm around Erestor’s waist. “I love you, my son. I want you to be happy. You lost your heart to Glorfindel a long time ago. If he hadn’t handled your admission so badly, that you belong to the Valar, you could have been happy in my Halls. But he did not forgive you and he forced my hand. I allowed him to be reborn -- without his memories where you were concerned. I did that so you would have a second chance.”
“What if I fail again? I already lied to him when I gave him a false name.”
“You did well to hide your real identity for now. Glorfindel would have recognized it.”
Erestor’s eyes widened slightly. “But, I thought…?”
“Lindir told him about you. Glorfindel still carries the locket you gave him.”
“Did you return it to him?” Erestor probed his father’s dark eyes. “He lost it when that Balrog dragged him into the abyss with him.”
“I recreated it… Lindir saw it and told him about you. But, as Glorfindel has no memory of you, he did not believe Lindir. When the time comes, the locket will lead him to you. Keep your identity a secret until then.”
“You have been plotting for centuries!”
“Aye, and I will continue to plot.” Námo gave his son a last hug and then released him. “The same rules as before apply, Erestor. You are not to use your powers or reveal your real identity to these Elves.”
“Mithrandir already knows the truth – I told him.” Erestor grew worried now.
“That could not be prevented. You needed someone to introduce you. Why do you think I returned you to Arda *now*?”
Erestor shook his head. “Why do I feel I do not know half of the things on your mind?”
“Because you do not.” Námo smiled, and his form began to fade. “This is your second chance at love. Do not ruin it. Glorfindel can be yours – in time.”
His father’s form was gone, leaving him alone with his thoughts once more. “You could have prepared me for this.” Now he felt lost. How was he going to win Glorfindel’s trust and love all over again?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Glorfindel joined the guards for morning practice, but found he lacked the necessary concentration to spar. His thoughts constantly drifted off to Mornén. What was it about the raven-haired Elf that had captured his attention?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You look lovely,” said Elrond, gallantly kissing his wife’s hand. They had walked the gardens, stopping regularly to exchange kisses and endearments. He had never been happier in his life and he held Celebrían close, enjoying her company.
“Thank you,” whispered Celebrían, very much in love with her half-Elf. “You look extremely handsome yourself.” Last night, they had kissed and touched, but hadn’t bound themselves yet. They would know when the time was right to bind and to create their first baby. “You seem distracted though.” She had been distracted herself for most of the day; after saying goodbye to her parents and their entourage, who were now on their way back to the Golden Wood.
“I apologize for that,” said Elrond, sincerely. “But I hope I have found a way of befriending Thranduil.”
Her parents had told her about the
“Let us not talk about Thranduil when I should be praising your beauty and savoring your love for me.” Elrond pulled her close once more and touched his lips to hers. He had never felt this complete before in his life and he thanked the Valar for granting him such love.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A knock on his door attracted Erestor’s attention and he
rose from his chair to open the door.
Melpomaen blinked, coming face to face with an Elf of such beauty. “You must be Mornén.”
Erestor nodded once. “And you are…?”
“My name is Melpomaen and Lord Elrond asked me to take you to his study.”
Erestor straightened out his shirt and then stepped into the corridor. “I am ready to serve Lord Elrond in whatever capacity he sees fit.”
Melpomaen guided him through the corridors until they had reached Elrond’s study. He opened the door and gestured for their guest to enter.
Erestor’s heart beat faster, finding Glorfindel present in the study as well. A fine hint of sweat clung to the warrior, telling him that Glorfindel had trained with the guards not so long ago. The scent woke his desire and he caught himself just in time, as he had wanted to bury Glorfindel in a hug and kiss him breathless.
Glorfindel looked up from the duty roster Elrond and he had been working on and stared promptly into depthless, dark eyes. This Elf fascinated him, though he was at a loss to explain why.
“Ah, Mornén!” Elrond rose from his chair and greeted the newest addition to his household.
“My Lord.” Erestor bowed in respect.
“I thought you could work with Melpomaen,” explained the half-Elf. “Melpomaen is in charge of all correspondence concerning Thranduil and Mirkwood. Maybe together, the two of you can find a way to soften your King’s opinion where I am concerned?”
Erestor nodded once. “I will do my best.” He gave Glorfindel another long look, and then reminded himself to mask his desire and longing, as he didn’t want to chase the warrior away. His father had told him to go slowly and he should heed the advice.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Erestor felt ill at ease, now that the eyes of the members of Elrond’s household were fixed upon him. Elrond had given him a seat at the head table, next to Melpomaen. Glorfindel was seated opposite of him, and Erestor peeked at the blond warrior whenever Glorfindel wasn’t looking.
The male Elves weren’t aware of the attention Erestor paid Glorfindel, but Celebrían had quickly registered Erestor’s looks. Elrond had introduced her to the Mirkwood Elf before dinner and she had instantly liked him. Now, she watched with interest as Erestor continued to study Glorfindel. “Elrond?” She leaned in closer and Elrond gave her a warm smile. “What do you know of Mornén?”
“Not much… but Mithrandir vouched for him.”
“Speaking of Mithrandir, where is he?” She hadn’t seen him today.
“I think he left in the afternoon. He didn’t tell me where he went and when he would be back.” Elrond felt a bit troubled now that his friend had left. “That is *if* he will be back any time soon.”
“Mithrandir’s actions are hard to predict,” said Glorfindel, playing with his food. For some reason, he had lost his appetite. /Nay, be honest with yourself. The reason you are not hungry sits opposite you./ Erestor’s beauty kept him from eating, as it had him mesmerized.
“He will be back eventually,” said Elrond, hoping he was right. But at least everything was at peace in his valley, for now. Celebrían and he were married and would shortly start their family. He also had found a way to get in touch with Thranduil again. Elrond didn’t know for certain what the future held for him and his loved ones, but he hoped a time of peace and love was waiting for them.
End of part 6
1 meldir (sing.) -- “male” friend (Sindarin, noun) mell + dir
2 fëa (sing.) -- soul (Quenyan, noun)
3 fëar (pl.) -- souls (Quenyan, noun)
From the Council of Elrond Quenyan and Sindarin dictionary