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superloves4 · 11 months

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in your eyes the mirror of mercy (ch.3)

Characters: Maglor & (ROP)Galadriel, Gen

Chapters: 3 of 3

Summary: While searching for Sauron after following a lead to the Southlands, Galadriel stumbles onto the last person she expected to ever see again: her cousin, the kinslayer Maglor Fëanorion.

TW: Blood and death is mentioned? Nothing graphic.

A/N: Messed up ROP's timeline a little so that Durin could be there, also, how did this chapter get so out of my control? 6k, how?

Song recommendation: When You Were Mine - Hayd (I love taking romantic songs and making them about complicated family relationships instead) & Black Friday - Team StarKid

Ch.1 Ch.2

Also on AO3

Maglor plucked at the strings of his harp, a song to bide the night farewell as the light of dawn slowly appeared on the horizon. It had been long since he’d played a song for the sake of music alone.

“I know that song!”

He smiled at the young man who looked flustered for revealing that he’d been listening in the whole time, not that he’d hidden much from the ears of an elf but Maglor wasn’t about to tell him.

“Oh, truly?”

The young man felt encouraged by his measured response and beamed “Yeah, it’s very popular, I used to hear it all the time when I was a child and I’d be asleep right after”

“Good to know that one of my compositions is still so used” Maglor couldn’t hide how glad he was that of all that Elros could’ve carried of him, the ones he chose to keep had been his songs. His next note was a lament, it wasn’t supposed to be, but it was nonetheless.

How many people were forever sundered from him now?

But the man was staring at him in awe anyway “You’re one of them, aren’t you? The ones with the light...”

Maglor smiled “You have much yet to see, Isildur, don’t focus too much on what is beyond sight”

“How did you?”

Their talk was interrupted by the arrival of Galadriel who had heard them and as soon as her own conversation with the young Nùmenorian had ended, she asked “Since when do you have sight?”

Maglor continued playing his harp “I don’t”

She just stared at him in doubt “Those were not just words and you know it”

Maglor stared at the water, another melody turned somber, “I don’t, it’s not sight” he answered, a single cord resounding “It’s Song.”

Galadriel remembered then, something she’d been told as a child, that the sea contained the vestiges of the Song of Illùvatar. The idea felt wrong, something he shouldn’t have been able to hear, but the answer was right in front of her, wasn’t it?

“Have you truly been walking the shores all this time?”

Maglor seemed to reflect on that question before chuckling “Are you more willing to believe me now?” he had a small smile, illuminated by the morning sun, Maglor looked utterly tired “I wasn’t lying but I gathered the truth wouldn’t have been enough”

Galadriel shook her head in disbelief “To think that all this time...” he’d been so close to all of them “...You’d been just down by the shore...”

“Everyone was better off without me” Maglor shrugged “I had my sins to pay for and no one to return to”

“We were still there” Maglor had to stop playing and look at her in surprise but she said nothing more. All those years alone, losing family after family, friend after friend, surely he’d see, surely he’d know.

“Ah, yes, because I’m truly that good of a company, I’m sure” he tried to joke but the conversation was over and she left, with no more clarification to give him.

Riding to battle was not something Maglor ever expected to do again, the human spear he’d been loaned was heavier than any elven or dwarven weapon he’d held before but the heaviness of his spirit was greater than ever, there was still much unsaid and much he didn’t trust about himself.

But when he looked at the Nùmenorians riding alongside him he would remind himself who he was fighting for this time around, he remembered the true enemy now and why it mattered.

The survivors of that faithful day would go back and talk about the fire of the elves that fought in the Southlands, and how their light reached the besieged people before the sun could fully rise. After so many years, the voice of Kanafinwë Makalaurë roared on the battlefield again, a sound most on that battlefield couldn’t even know the legacy it carried, and the few that did, could not believe the sound of an era gone by, could still exist.

But he did exist, he was there and he wouldn’t run away anymore.

“Maglor!”

Galadriel had called to her cousin as the orc tried to escape, not that he made it too far away. Having heard her, he’d quickly reached the two and tripped the orc’s horse sending it’s rider flying.

The two cousins descended from their own horses but Maglor had that horrible gut feeling as back in Nùmenor when he looked at Galadriel, it should’ve been normal, she simply looked pleased at capturing the one responsible for the attack in the Southlands and the orc could have information to lead them back to Sauron, but it didn’t settle well with him nonetheless. Her eyes were dark and cold, it terrified him.

They tied him up in a nearby barn, allowing them to truly see the one they’d been fighting the whole day.

“He’ll wake up soon” he commented, seeing the telltale signs of consciousness returning to the rider.

“Let me talk to him,” she asked him but Maglor was still uncertain so she added “Alone”

Maglor looked from the prisoner back to her, but he decided he’d trust Galadriel.

Galadriel looked down at the orc in front of her, heard his words but couldn’t rest, how many of her people had they taken and killed? How many of the second born? The desire to cut his life short was immeasurable, alas, she still needed information.

But disappointment cuts deep.

It was so hard, to keep down that pain in her chest, even as he continued to speak. Sauron wasn’t there. After everything she had done, all the information she’d tracked down, every hurt and every person that had left her alone to the chase, in the end, it still had not been enough.

And he kept talking, about the orcs in his service and about a place for them, the pain felt as if her chest would cave in at any moment, her breath came harder and she struggled to think.

Adar then called for the One, for recognition.

She was brought back to her childhood and Findaràto was there, he was discussing something or the other with someone, the conversation veered towards Ilúvatar and she could remember her brother’s voice. She remembered everything, as clearly as if it had been yesterday.

How dare he?

She threatened him, she wanted to cause all the pain she suffered on the pathetic orc, to see as he regretted his wretched existence and everything she had to see. Who cared if he called her evil? The blood on her blade was black.

“Nerwen”

Galadriel was thrown back into the present and her breathing returned. The red faded from her vision and the chill of her hate filled her bones. Unlike what she expected, however, Maglor’s eyes weren’t judging her.

Instead, he allowed her to leave, taking care of the prisoner in her place while she remembered how to breathe freely. And she heard them. She heard him.

“There is nothing you could tell me, Son of Fëanor,” was Adar seething “Oh, yes I know who you are, nothing for you to say that the lady hasn’t already”

Maglor sighed.

“You can hardly expect otherwise, there’s too much history between us, no?”

She heard him place some food in front of Adar, she didn’t even notice he had gathered anything.

“Do you think yourself so much higher than us, Calaquendi? Do you believe I don’t know your history or what you’ve done?”

“You seem to have misunderstood my intentions,”

“Have I? You look down on me but before today did you even know if you still bled red? Don’t patronize me, kinslayer.”

“I do not know what it is to feel the enemy on my skin so I cannot speak as truly as another might if you may forgive me for it”

“What are you even talking about?”

There was a pause then a shuffle, it seemed to be Maglor.

“You are more than what Utmno made of you”

His voice was lower, as if on the ground.

“I hope you may remember it before the end, I’ve found it to not be an easy thing to believe in, but it’s all any of us have, no?”

Galadriel braced herself on a rock, adrenaline could no longer carry her and the remaining strength left at last. For so long she had prided herself in her ability to see, to look and know the true heart of someone, ever believing that she had never allowed herself to waver in too harsh or too soft a judgment.

But when the moment arrived she had offered nothing but blood and destruction. Galadriel had believed she had been chasing the light her brother had taught her so long ago, that the dark path she’d threaded had taught her further. But when asked to hope, she had refused.

It had been Maglor, instead. Arrogant, tired, guilty, Maglor. It had been him to reach out and offer mercy.

Her hands were clean but she was heavy. How far had she sunken? For how long had she followed a reflection instead? Galadriel looked at her dagger, her eyes reflected on the blade, would Findaràto truly see his sister if he saw her now?

She silently cried, for how long, she didn’t know, but she did feel when someone sat by her side.

“You were right”

Maglor chuckled and she felt the vibration on her arm where they touched “Oh, my, that is something no one would ever believe happened if I told, you know.” there was some measure of comfort in his voice, she remembered now, Maglor had liked to joke where Maedhros had been more stern in his concern. He’d been an older brother before he’d been her older cousin.

“Celeborn is dead” she began, her voice wistful and pained “I never saw him again, after losing so much of our family to not even have his body to cry over and bury, it was so hard to see forward.”

“Gil-Galad never approved of what I was doing” she explained “He believed I was keeping alive the same evil I had been looking for, perhaps he even believed, knew, I was to become that same evil. That I was marred.” Galadriel felt his stare at her but she could look at him, focusing instead on the object Adar had been trying to escape with “Everyone could see that I had lost myself”

“You know,” he spoke, “these past days you reminded me of someone...”

“Fëanor?”

“Celegorm, actually”

Galadriel scoffed “That’s a low blow even for you”

But Maglor persisted “I know who he is to history, but history didn’t see my brother,” he said firmly “The grief that can overwhelm us and lead us to believe that what we do is correct, that hurt can heal past hurt, but we’re just left with that pain inside, eating at us until we can’t run anymore, there’s nothing my brother can do now but you are here and you’re not him”

Galadriel trembled and her voice struggled “There isn’t a path I can see anymore, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” her whole being shaking “I can’t stop”

“Neither can I”

She looked at her cousin, facing the fear of what she looked like to others now, and in his eyes, she saw reflected that same pain, that same all-consuming desire for vengeance and the flame that hungered for destruction. They had been fighting for so long.

Galadriel gave him a poor smile “You called me Nerwen”

They could survive this, they would find a way.

Maglor laughed and seemed to be about to joke again when his expression changed and he quickly grabbed Adar’s parcel instead. His frantic actions revealed a small axe inside but Galadriel had no idea why it was so important or why Maglor looked horrified.

“We need to run”

“What? Why? We won, what-”

He grabbed her wrist and started pushing her along with him “It’s wrong! It’s all wrong, the sound! The sound! We have to leave!”

“What are you talking about?!”

The ground trembled before the first rocks started to fall but Galadriel couldn’t understand, hadn’t they prevented this? It didn’t matter anymore, Orodruin was erupting and they had to reach the others fast.

Everything seemed to go wrong from then on, at some point she lost track of where Maglor was in the middle of the chaos they found but she dedicated herself to taking as many people to safety as she could even as the world around began to burn. Galadriel thought she heard music in the distance but ash blurred her vision, if her cousin was still nearby she couldn’t tell, and when she was hit by a stray rock she couldn’t tell anything at all.

She woke up to a world of darkness.

It was difficult to not feel it was her fault, when she found her way out of those destroyed lands she’d realize it wasn’t, but in that moment it felt like punishment. Maglor’s words returned to her in the dark and she followed, hoping that the two of them could help others, the human boy in her group in particular, there was too much hurt in Theo that reminded her so much of herself.

They reached the light and things went back into place, Theo found his mother and Arondir, and she got to speak with the Queen and Elendil, learning they planned to return to Nùmenor soon. Everything seemed to correct itself, they had lost much that day and it was exhausting to see their victory turn hollow so quickly.

They would heal.

Galadriel was swiftly enveloped in an unexpected hug.

“You’re safe”

She hugged Maglor back, feeling like a child, truly glad he had survived.

“Did you think you could escape going back to Lindon with me, huh?”

“About that...”

She broke the hug, Maglor was avoiding her eyes, and her arm was bloodied but it wasn’t her blood. The gash at his side was shallower than she feared but Maglor had fought as long as she had, if he knew that such a wound wouldn’t kill him, then why did he look about to leave her his goodbyes?

She shook her head but he smiled.

“Poison” he explained to her silent question “I’m too out of practice it seems, one orc sneaked upon my group” he laughed as if she wasn’t staring at him in horror “I searched the camp, we’ve got nothing and it’s not something I can fix on song alone, I won’t be coming back it seems”

“No,” she refused to see another one of her family die in front of her “No, there’s got to-, Eregion,” she nodded to herself, she could find a way out of this “It’s seven days from here, with the right horses...”

His legs trembled and she held her cousin so he wouldn’t just fall to the ground.

“We’d be lucky if I get three days, let alone seven” he laughed but took her hand “It’s okay, it’s not such a loss, no? I’m still guilty remember”

Of course she did, Galadriel's vision blurred with tears, of course, and that’s why he had to live, that’s why...

“Going soft?” he joked “Hey, it’s more than any of my brothers got, at least I fought for something true no?”

“No, you fought for my revenge, it’s not the same” she sobbed.

Maglor hugged her again but she pushed him away.

“Let me try,” she said “You haven’t fought your true fight yet and you need to be there when I fight mine, Maglor Fëanorion,” her voice cracked “Let me at least try.”

Maglor had liked the idea of dying there, they were close enough to the coast, he could stay there until the poison ran its course, staring at Nùmenor before his long-delayed journey to the Halls called to him. It was way more than he ever thought he’d have.

But Galadriel was crying on his armour and he didn’t want to disappoint her anymore, so he agreed. At least he wouldn’t die alone.

Galadriel had picked the most well-rested horses she could find, faster horses would be best but a horse that covered more ground was better than a fast, tired one that could barely trot right from the beginning. She’d sing of healing and would coerce Maglor to do the same, they might not heal the poison, but if they pushed it back long enough.

“We’ll be there soon, we’re so close to Eregion now” they had stopped for rest and she really didn’t like that Maglor looked to be developing a fever “And when we get there, you’ll be able to see Celebrimbor again”

“Celebrimbor?” she heard him ask, that was good, keep him awake.

Galadriel laughed “Yeah, Celebrimbor, your nephew”

“What are you talking about?”

That made her turn her head “What are you talking about?”

Maglor looked at her seriously, struggling to breathe “Celebrimbor is dead, he died in Nargothrond”

“What? No, he didn’t, he-” she tried to say when it hit her “You didn’t know he wasn’t in Nargothrond when it fell?...”

Maglor seemed slightly delirious at that point “He didn’t-, didn’t return, he stayed, Curufin screamed, he-, he screamed when the news came-”

Galadriel looked at her cousin “All this time you thought he was dead?” but he didn’t answer her so she decided that the time for rest was over.

Elrond grimaced to Celebrimbor and the other grimaced back, the dinner was going worse than they had expected, Durin and Gil-Galad refused to be cordial to each other to everyone’s despair.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected this, what with Durin's dislike of elves and Gil-Galad anxieties after Galadriel’s disappearance, but still he had hoped that meeting on the neutral ground of Eregion would allow for better communication. Alas, they played the same tune yet again.

Durin’s attempt at crass insults towards the High King were thankfully interrupted.

“My King, Lord Celebrimbor, it’s the Lady Galadriel, she-”

“Speak faster would you!” was Galadriel’s screech from behind the doors, her steps heavy “Healer! Elrond! Elrond!”

The desperate call for a healer terrified them all and they rushed to reach her but nothing could’ve prepared them for what they saw. Elrond froze.

While, yes, Galadriel was covered in ash and blood, both black and red, it was clear she was well, nothing that would require urgent care or that a bath wouldn’t reveal to be way less in proportions.

No, the one truly at risk was the one she was carrying, black hair caked in the same mix of ash and blood, a frame much thinner than any of them remembered, and a wound with fresh blood at his side.

None of them ever thought they’d ever see Maglor Fëanorion again.

Elrond looked at Galadriel, he wasn’t even sure he knew what he felt at that moment, he had so many questions but he couldn’t even begin any of them, sentences escaped him. The ground had disappeared from his feet.

But Galadriel begged him “Please, Elrond, you’re the only one that can save him”

He swallowed hard, fighting himself he focused on the moment, he could ask all the questions he wanted later, at that moment they were a healer and a patient, that’s all.

He nodded and Maglor was quickly taken to the nearest empty room.

Durin was looking around confused, wondering if it would be best if he left, Celebrimbor had taken refuge in his forges and Galadriel knew that Gil-Galad was glaring daggers at her but she was exhausted enough to not care, she could only wait and hope she hadn’t been too late.

“Just say what you want to say”

He took a deep breath before saying “You,” he hissed “vanished...”

Gil-Galad seemed to her to be trembling with rage, she wasn’t really sure how she’d justify bringing Maglor here, she just didn’t want to lose someone again.

“And then,” the king continued “When you return, without a single letter in all this time I might add, you have a dying kinslayer with you!” his voice getting progressively more aggravated “Did you even think what you were doing? What were you doing at all this time? Why did you think bringing him, of all people, to Elrond, was a good idea?”

That one she could answer “I think we were wrong,” she answered honestly “I don’t think Maglor ever hurt them”

Gil-Galad stared at her as if her head had fallen off her shoulders, it was humiliating a look from someone so much younger than her, so she glared back.

“They destroyed his home, there’s only so much compassion one can have,” Gil-Galad said, crossing his arms.

Galadriel looked away from the judgemental younger man “I think we were wrong”

The king sighed.

Hours later, after Galadriel had told all that happened to the king, Elrond finally emerged from the room and everyone stared at him.

He avoided all of their gazes and answered “I did everything I could, it depends on him to survive the night”

And he left, Durin quickly running after him.

Elrond crumbled to the ground when he was far enough and took a deep, deep, breath. All he had wanted was a good, respectful, dinner to smooth over old enmities, all he thought he would have to deal with was the stubbornness of elves and dwarves. He felt so cold.

“Soooo,” he heard Durin’s voice “What exactly was that? Seemed more than just an injured of yours”

“That,” the dwarf couldn’t tell what the elf was feeling, his voice neutral as he continued “Was Maglor Fëanorion”

The name seemed vaguely familiar to Durin but he hardly ever bothered with elven history so in the end it meant nothing to him. He just stared at Elrond, hoping he’d continue.

Elrond hid his face in the crook of his arm, swaying slightly “He is a criminal, committed one of our greatest sins, kinslaying, thrice over in pursuit of the heirloom of his father, the silmaril”

Durin was not entirely sure why fighting for a heirloom would be bad but he sensed there was more to the story so he didn’t speak, Elrond seemed to need it.

“He...” another deep breath “He destroyed my mother’s home, then destroyed mine, my mother threw herself to the seas for this, he never got the silmaril...”

Oh, so that was why, Durin whistled “And you saved his life? My, I knew you were kind elf, but this?” he nodded impressed.

Elrond clenched his fists on his own clothes “He’s a selfish prick that left two boys barely out of childhood with a cousin they barely knew to pursue that stupid jewel...”

Well, Durin thought, this seems different.

“I thought he was dead”

The dwarf heard a barely-held-back sob and kept silent companionship while Elrond cried through the night.

Maglor woke up to a high, elven, ceiling.

It was so beautifully normal and familiar he knew it had to be wrong. He painfully pushed himself in a sitting position, his wound had been patched perfectly but the side effects of the poison made his body ache with every movement.

“I wouldn’t recommend moving now,” Galadriel laughed at him “Wouldn’t want Elrond’s work to go to waste no?”

“Elrond?” he despaired “You brought me to Elrond?”

“I didn’t,” she defended herself “He was already in Eregion, maybe for a reason”

“He wouldn’t want to see me after all that I did” he struggled to acclimate to the soft pillows, there had been a time when all his pillows had been this soft, now they made him feel insecure.

“You survived,” she told him “It’s the only way we can truly move on, no?”

Maglor laughed and then groaned from the pain in his abdomen “Don’t you think I won’t use the fact that you cried for me against you”

Galadriel smiled, yes, they could find a way out of the fire.

“They are waiting for you”

Maglor needed time before he could confront Elrond, so he searched for Celebrimbor instead. It wasn’t easier, but at least he had known Elrond was alive all this time. He would see his nephew for the first time in so many years...

“HEY! Who’s there?”

Celebrimbor turned the corner and stopped, his face in shock, but Maglor couldn’t even respond. There he was. His little nephew.

He had this vivid memory, they had all gathered to wait for Curufin's arrival and then the doors opened, his brother came out holding what seemed to Maglor as the smallest elfling he’d ever seen, even the Ambarussa had been bigger.

He had been so small, Maglor had held him in his arms, sung him to sleep.

And there he was now, a grown man, it didn’t matter if he rejected his foolish uncle, to see him again had been enough.

“How did you get here?” Celebrimbor asked cautiously.

“I-” Maglor smiled awkwardly “Believe it or not, I know my way in a forge... we all knew...” he trailed off, he felt the push of song but refused it, he needed to be present now, he owed them as much.

Celebrimbor nodded, more to himself than as an answer “I’m glad you’re alive?”

Maglor laughed “Usually, it’s not a question”

Celebrimbor sighed “I, it’s just, we all thought you died after Eönwë’s camp, to see you now... I don’t even know what to say”

“You don’t need to say anything Tyelpë” Maglor wanted to commit his vision to memory “I’m sorry, for everything that we failed you for, and for everything you had to endure after we weren’t here”

Maglor thought his nephew was still too kind when Tyelpë got closer and with all the sincerity in the world, asked him “Are you all right, uncle? Do I need to call a healer?”

“We thought you died in Nargothrond” Maglor told him, unable to keep himself from reaching to stroke his nephew’s head, how funny that Curufin who had been smaller than Maglor had a child that now stood taller than he did, the caress just a little awkward as a result.

“What...?”

Telperinquar knew he hadn’t sent letters but somehow the idea of his father lying on the floor of Doriath, thinking he had long died, moved something in him. Had his father thought of him then? Did he want for his father to have thought of him?

“Did my father?...”

“...Yes”

Maglor removed his hand “He thought much of you, if it matters anything, I understand if you do not wish to hear of him”

Tyelpë looked at his uncle, he still looked terribly smaller than the great elf of his memories and the poison had left him looking deathly pale, like a gust of wind would send him tumbling down the stairs. No one was sure what to do with him, Galadriel herself had brought him back and asked for his salvation, where did that leave that tired kinslayer? And who was he to Telperinquar?

“I was hurting,” Tyelpë began, trying to find the words, those had always come easier to his father “I saw my family betray everything I believed in, father had always promised I’d be safe with family, but my family wasn’t safe from themselves” he walked towards one of the benches “I never wanted for you to believe me dead... but I also believed you dead, for all these years...”

“I-, I know what that looks like, I just-” Maglor struggled to explain, desperation tugging at his heart “I never wanted to impose on you, if you wish me gone, I will.”

But Tyelpë simply held something up to his face.

Maglor stared at it in disbelief “That’s father’s hammer...” he couldn’t help but snort “You took it from Curufin’s things?” he laughed, shaking his head. Curufin had been desperate to find it, searched the entirety of Himring, and instead, the whole time... Maglor was rather proud he had to admit “I’m so glad to see you well, Tyelpë.”

The man in front of him smiled “If you are to stay, then you better prove it. I’d hate to lose my uncle again.”

Maglor smiled back. After all those years, he finally got to hug his nephew, and he knew he’d gladly spend any time proving whatever was asked of him.

“Is something wrong, Tyelpë?”

A voice Maglor didn’t recognize asked, but unlike his skepticism, Celebrimbor seemed delighted.

“Oh! Annatar! Please, come meet my uncle!”

The moment the man stepped forward Maglor knew he wasn’t an elf, but neither was he a human. Certainly a handsome person but there was something unnatural about his beauty, something uncanny about the splendour of his blonde hair, it seemed as if one had attempted to recreate the way treelight would illuminate people in Valinor. But he didn’t think Celebrimbor would remember, he’d been so young when they left.

“I salute you, son of Fëanor, I am Annatar Aulendil” the man introduced himself, his smile was almost too serene.

Celebrimbor beamed “He is a maia of Aulë, he was sent by the Valar to help us” he seemed so proud of himself, Maglor felt bad for his reticence, they just reconnected he didn’t want to go back on his words, it was just that...

“Why would the Valar send someone to the House of Fëanor?” he asked. Maglor firmly believed that he’d never met a maiar named Annatar in Aulë’s halls.

The man looked at him and without a beat answered “Why wouldn’t they? Is Celebrimbor not innocent? And aren’t the Valar merciful?” he tilted his head, still smiling in that strangely perfect way “Why wouldn’t we embrace the house that betrayed us? Thus bringing them back to our embrace”

Celebrimbor laughed “He is not wrong, we have much to atone for, I have many hopes for this”

It pained Maglor’s heart to hear it, Celebrimbor should’ve never been the one to stand for them. He tried to speak, to remind his nephew that he didn’t owe them anything but was interrupted by the maia.

“Is it not what you wish for yourself, son of Fëanor? Redemption?”

Maglor bristled but kept it hidden, not wanting to upset Celebrimbor “Nothing so grand, there is no redemption for myself,” it wasn’t a sad thought, just something he’d live with “I merely wish for healing now.”

The man stared at him for an unsettling amount of time “A noble desire, I suppose” he finally said “There is much I heard about Maglor Fëanorion, about your music in particular, is it true that you are even better than our great late king, Finrod Felagund?”

Maglor took a step back, not liking the question “We never had any need to know” he responded curtly.

Annatar hummed, he never stopped smiling.

“How unfortunate”

He might have said something back but Celebrimbor grabbed his hand “I believe I can create something, Uncle, not to capture but to heal, Annatar has been a great help in achieving such ideal, I wish for us to get along”

Whatever that Annatar had wrong, Celebrimbor was looking at him so hopeful that Maglor didn’t have the heart to refuse him anything.

Maglor stayed long with his nephew, leaving him felt painful, the feeling that Tyelpë would be gone the moment he took his eyes off of him would likely never truly leave him.

But he still had one more person he needed to meet.

The one he had the most to apologize for.

He found Elrond looking blankly into a crystal goblet from the night before and Maglor had no doubt he was the cause of his heavy heart. To have to save someone that hurt him so deeply, Maglor didn’t even begin to know how to atone.

Maybe his death would be the requirement.

But Maglor didn’t want to die anymore.

“I-”

“So, it seems I’m last,” Elrond hummed, not turning to look at him “I should not have imagined differently, huh”

“I thought you wouldn’t want to see me so soon”

Elrond scoffed “Because the last time I saw you wasn’t hundreds of years ago, am I wrong?”

“I know I hurt you, I want to apologize”

Elrond jumped from his seat, putting more distance between him and Maglor “Of course, because that will fix everything”

Maglor sighed “You don’t need to forgive me, I just thought you deserved to hear me say that I am truly sorry” and walked back to the door, he knew he should leave now, Elrond clearly didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, it was only right to not bother the peace he’d found for himself.

“There’s a bow by that corner,” Maglor turned to look and indeed Elrond was telling the truth “If you leave this room now, I will shoot you”

“Elrond!”

“Don’t!” Elrond screamed back, finally looking at him, his eyes were red, swollen, and Maglor could see the tear trails on his face now “Don’t you dare reprimand me for anything! You don’t deserve it!”

“Of course I don’t Elrond!” Maglor exclaimed, hoping to make him understand “I’m not trying to forget what happened, I’m not asking you to forgive me! You don’t need to look at me ever again!”

“Then why are here? Why do you always arrive just to leave again?” Elrond shouted “You keep repeating yourself! You think you can correct what you did by for caring for us, but leave us with Gil-Galad instead, then you think you can correct everything by just disappearing with no letters, we thought you were dead! How am I to believe you won’t just vanish tomorrow, find an excuse about making amends and we never see you again? We-, no, I never see you again.”

“I should’ve come sooner, I just-, I thought that was what you wanted.” Maglor avoided Elrond’s gaze, he never expected this whenever he imagined how meeting his ward again would be.

“You have no idea what I want,” Elrond threw at him, cornering Maglor “You just do things and put inside your head that everyone wants you gone because leaving is easier than realizing that you changed, that there was more than the path you took when you arrived in Beleriand, that you could do something”

“I’m sorry! I truly am, I spent so long thinking about what I should’ve done better, but everything I did,” Maglor tried desperately to make him see “I did because I thought was the greater good, for you, for Elros, I should’ve never taken you two, you deserved far more than who I was, I should’ve never hurt you as I did, but leaving was the only correct choice”

Elrond scoffed again “You are still doing it! You put in your head this image of what happened and you don’t stop to think what we wanted!” he was crying now and Maglor felt his heart break, Elrond should not be crying, he should never have to cry.

“For the greater good?” Elrond questioned, his voice shaking “Father left for the greater good, Mother left for the greater good, Elros left for the greater good,” his head drooped and he let himself lean on Maglor’s chest, like a child looking for comfort “But you... You were selfish, you should’ve stayed, there was nothing you could truly do to fix what you had done, we wanted you to stay, you should’ve been selfish...”

“Elrond...”

Maglor took him in his arms, he had grown much since he last saw him, but in his arms, Elrond was just that scared child again. He had been so wrong.

“I’m tired, of being left,” Elrond sobbed “So, if you plan to leave, then leave, I’ll pretend you died as you wanted...”

“No,” Maglor kissed his head “I’m not leaving, I’ll stay to the breaking of the world if it’s what you want, I’m sorry Elrond, I’m sorry I didn’t realize it in time to see Elros,” Maglor continued to stroke his back, letting the sobs dwindle “I’ve been there you know, I saw Nùmenor, I saw his heirs, they built so much and they are so strong, I will be here to see what you will build”

Elrond could help the new sobs, feeling at least a little more full, even when and if he saw his parents again, he had lost Elros, and probably would lose others along the way, there would never be a him who was whole. But people could come back, some could still return to him. It was flawed but it was his family. And that was enough.

“I missed you...”

“I missed you, too”

Galadriel looked over that reunion from above, she had never meant to eavesdrop, it was too important a moment for her to do so, but the screams had attracted more attention than the two had meant and she had ended up witnessing the end of that confrontation. She was happy for them.

Everything was shaky and fragile, they still had much to work to do and Maglor’s fate was uncertain, her own decisions were still to show their consequences.

But they weren’t alone anymore. They could heal now.

The End

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