Thingol sighed as he stopped at the tapestry he always stopped at, the large one of his precious Lúthien and her Beren, staring into each other's eyes, obviously in love. He'd never actually followed the story farther along the tapestries, choosing instead to spend a good deal of his time staring morosely at this one. But that dark-haired Maia's words nagged at him. If he was going to try to make it back to Melian, did he not at least need to face the stories that made up his life? And while he did hate the fact his little girl had landed in so much danger because of his stubbornness (and her own, that he had to admit she'd probably inherited from him), she had come home again safe, and he had grown fond of Beren in the end.
Mind made up, Thingol moved on, following the story as it was traced in fabric, admiring Vairë's craft as he did. Yet he did not actually make it all the way through this story, for he only got as far as Finrod and Beren's capture in Tol-en-Gaurhoth. Because there was a large depiction of it, and the dark-haired Maia on the throne…the Maia…who'd...
"I need to see a Maia!" Thingol snapped in his most commanding, kingly tones. There was an odd shimmer in the air, and then one was there, a female Maia Thingol didn't know.
"Yes?" she asked. "Is everything alright?"
"I need to see your lord," Thingol said, in the same tone of voice. The Maia's eyes grew somewhat wide, but she nodded.
"I will see if he is available," she answered, and was gone. Thingol turned his attention back to the tapestry, jaw clenching as he took it in. No, he was not mistaken. The likeness was too exact.
"You asked to see me, Thingol?" Námo's voice broke into his musings. Thingol turned.
"I was approached by a dark-haired Maia in your service who spoke to me about my wife," Thingol said, striving for calm detachment, but unable to hide the thick rope of controlled anger in his voice. "Now, I find his exact likeness in this tapestry." Námo glanced at it.
"Ah," he said. Thingol had to restrain himself from angrily parroting the Vala.
"Is or is not Gorthaur now in your service," Thingol said, the anger far less restrained now. Námo shot him a cool look.
"He is," he said calmly. "Though he now goes by his original name of Mairon." Thingol was briefly rendered incoherent by this information, as well as the matter-of-fact way Námo had announced it.
"Actually, your daughter is probably the reason he returned to Aman," Námo went on. Now Thingol couldn't speak for sheer surprise.
"If you followed the tapestries further," Námo said, nodding the direction they spanned, "you would have seen that after your daughter and her husband left Doriath after I returned them to you, they came across him while he was badly injured. Your daughter was insistent that they help him, and in his gratitude for their healing and friendship, he surrendered to Eönwë after the War of Wrath, and returned to these shores."
Thingol, with the help of a few deep what-would-have-been-breaths-had-he-still-been-alive, had calmed himself down durning this explanation. Actually, he had to admit, that sounded a lot like his daughter. But really, though…
"But what was he doing talking to my wife!" he exclaimed. Námo shot him a look of not-really-concealed amusement.
"As far as I understand it, they're old friends," he said mildly. For a third time, Thingol found himself unable to speak. But this time, Námo didn't seem inclined to fill the silence.
"I see," Thingol was finally able to say. "Thank you, my lord, for speaking with me." Námo inclined his head, and disappeared. Thingol looked again at the tapestry, idly rubbing his temples in a not-really-useful gesture as he realized that even dead, he could still get a headache. Yes, he needed to get out of here and get back to Melian, even if he realized that what he would find would probably been vastly different than he'd once assumed. But at least if she were meeting with dubious characters from her past, if he were alive again, he could be there too.
This is a birthday gift for Sauron Gorthaur, who has a birthday this week! She said she wanted to see this scene a long time ago, and I told her I might actually have inspiration about it by her birthday. And I was right, since I didn't actually write this until about a month ago. Happy Birthday SG!