Hello readers, and welcome to my story. It takes place in the early 4th age of Middle Earth, when Elrond is on his way to the Grey Havens to sail to Valinor. I was rereading the Silmarillion, and it had me considering 'What happened to Maglor? Did he die, or does he wander still, all alone?'. This is how I would answer these questions. I hope you enjoy this tale, which will be completed in 8 chapters.

"And it is told of Maglor that he could not endure the pain with which the Silmaril tormented him; and he cast it at last into the Sea, and thereafter he wandered ever upon the shores, singing in pain and regret beside the waves. For Maglor was mighty among the singers of old, named only after Daeron of Doriath; but it is said he came never back among the people of the Elves."

Chapter 24: Of the Voyage of Earendil and the War of Wrath
The Quenta Silmarillion

An Unexpected Meeting

Chapter 1

Elrond Peredhel took a deep, cleansing breath. He could smell the heavy scent of the surrounding pines, and it seemed like rain was likely. The light breeze whispered through the trees, caressing his face as it attempted to soothe his cares away. His horse ambled slowly beneath him, her strong, powerful gait bringing him closer and closer to his destination.

The Grey Havens.

He had put off this journey as long as he could, but the pull of the Sea was too difficult to ignore now. Even stronger was his yearning for Celebrian, his wife, who had sailed away to find healing in Aman…healing he could not give her. He resisted the urge to rub his chest, where the familiar ache had been present for more years than he wished to count.

However, now that pain would be eased. Elrond sighed in relief, both excited and nervous to see his wife again. Would she be healed, like they both hoped? Elrond shook himself, knowing that worrying about something he would find out soon enough would not be constructive.

"Mellon nin? Are you well?" a soft voice inquired. Elrond turned and looked into the concerned grey eyes of Lindir. They had known each other for many long years, and the bard was a gentle soul who always seemed to give more regard to the feelings of others than his own.

Elrond quirked his lips into a small smile, "I am, do not worry for me." When Lindir narrowed his eyes in doubt, Elrond elaborated, "My mind is full of many thoughts. This is a journey I feared I would never take, and now I go forth without any of my children by my side." He frowned, and tried to push away this distressing realization.

"Elladan and Elrohir will come," Lindir insisted. "They told me so themselves, as they asked me to watch over you on the journey."

"I left them in charge of Imladris, until they are ready to sail," Elrond muttered. "They wish to stay until…until Arwen…" he swallowed thickly, turning away from Lindir and blinking away the tears in his eyes.

The bard reached out and clasped his shoulder gently. "She has found happiness here, mellon nin. Her life will be one of joy, and Estel will treasure her, always."

"I know," Elrond whispered, and forced himself to regain some of his composure. "I am glad to have you with me, Lindir."

"Of course, where else would I be?" Lindir replied with a grin. "I think we are in dire need of some music, do you not think?" Elrond heard a muttering of agreement throughout the sizeable party traveling with them.

As Lindir began to sing a light-hearted tune along with his hand harp, Elrond smiled as the rest of the Elves joined their voices with his. It was a large group traveling with him; many had stayed in Imladris while he, their Lord, was still in residence. However, when it became known Elrond would be leaving, the majority of his people decided to join him. Only a small number remained under the rule of his sons, and it would not be long before all of Imladris was emptied. The thought gave him mixed emotions, for he had worked tirelessly to make it a good home for his people, and a refuge for any who needed aid. Now it would be slowly retaken by the nature from whence it was created.

Elrond startled as Lindir's voice faltered. Turning to the Ellon, he raised an eyebrow at the puzzled expression on his face. "What is it?" Elrond asked.

"Ah, I am unsure," Lindir said uncertainly. "I must be imagining things." Elrond nodded, not really understanding but wanting to reassure Lindir. He took up his tune again, but Elrond could tell he was listening closely by the way his eyes were sweeping back and forth. What was he looking for? He was surprised by what the bard said next. "Hir nin, have the others pause in their singing, while I continue."

"Pause?" Elrond replied hesitantly. When Lindir nodded, the Peredhel raised a hand. Seemingly, this was enough of a signal, or Lindir's words had been heard clearly enough and the message passed along. As Lindir's clear tone echoed through the surrounding forest, Elrond faintly heard something unexpected.

Someone else was singing, but it was not one of his people. Yet, there was a familiarity to it that tugged at his heart. Elrond found himself guiding his horse forwards through the group, veering towards the right as Lindir followed behind. "Elrond? Where are you going?" Glorfindel asked curiously, but his inquiry was barely heard by the Lord of Rivendell as he rode slowly. Finally, he found himself dismounting, and the rest of his people halted, confused about Elrond's actions but unwilling to continue without him.

Elrond held up a hand when Glorfindel attempted to follow him. "I am in charge of your safety, hir nin," Glorfindel said stubbornly, searching Elrond's expression for some clue to explain his behavior. "I cannot let you wander off alone."

Elrond raised an imperious eyebrow, "I am a formidable warrior in my own right, mellon nin." He motioned to the sword hanging on his hip. "I can defend myself, I assure you." He listened again; Lindir was still singing softly, but Elrond could hear the other voice once more, closer this time. "I sense no danger here." When Glorfindel went to protest, Elrond cut him off, "Trust me. Besides, Lindir will be with me."

Glorfindel held his tongue and sighed, "Very well, but do not go far." Elrond held in a smile at his dear friend's fretting; he had been his guard whenever he traveled, and even in a place as safe as these woods, Glorfindel would be just as alert as if they were in Mordor's perilous lands.

"Lindir, if you would," Elrond said, motioning him to come closer. "I do not know who it is who sings, but it is familiar to me. Perhaps this person is in need of aid, or is traveling alone to the Havens. I am sure they would appreciate the company." At least, that is what Elrond hoped. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but let his hand hover over the hilt of his sword, just in case.

Lindir had left his harp behind, but his voice alone was beyond beautiful as he continued with the original song. Clearly the stranger was familiar with it. As they got closer to where the person was located, Elrond's heart was pounding. Why was he so anxious? What about this stranger was causing him to feel such warring senses of anticipation and fear?

And then, suddenly, a form materialized out of the pine trees. It was covered in a long, dark cloak, and the hood shielded a face from them. Yet, the voice…it was achingly familiar but…

No, it…it couldn't be…

Yet, the name made it past Elrond's lips all the same. "Maglor?" he whispered, his voice shaking. He heard Lindir gasp behind him, before the bard drew his sword and stood before Elrond protectively.

"Show yourself!" Lindir commanded, and it reminded Elrond that he was not just a musician, but an accomplished warrior in his own right.

Slowly, hands rose to grasp the hood…scarred hands. When the face was revealed, Elrond's heart stopped. He felt like he couldn't breathe, and stumbled against a tree, grasping a branch firmly to stay upright. He noticed the Ellon had made a motion to aid him, but restrained himself.

Lindir's back straightened, and Elrond caught a look of fury in his eyes before he placed the sword against the Ellon's neck. "Maglor," he spat, his jaw clenched. To his credit, the Elf did not make any moves to defend himself, staying completely still.

Instead of answering Lindir directly, the Elf swiveled his gaze to Elrond's. "Penneth, you-"

"Do not call him that!" Lindir growled. "He is Lord of Imladris and you will treat him with respect, Kin-slayer." Maglor stiffened, but kept his silence.

"It is all right, Lindir," Elrond found himself stuttering, straightening up with great effort. "I do not believe he will harm me."

"You cannot know that!" Lindir replied angrily. "He did not hesitate to kill my Adar at the Mouths of Sirion; why would he change from his violent tendencies now?" The bard was almost vibrating with anger, and Elrond feared what might happen next.

Maglor had not stopped looking at Elrond, seemingly giving little heed to the sword at his throat. "I come in peace, pe-, I mean, Lord Elrond," he said softly, and the familiar voice was like a vice around Elrond's soul. Memories long-buried threatened to overwhelm him, but he pushed them aside with difficulty.

"You have wandered for many long years," Elrond replied quietly, narrowing his eyes. "Why do you come here, now?"

"I…" Maglor began, finally acknowledging Lindir. "Can I speak in private with your lord, please?"

Lindir's eyes flashed, "If you think I-" Elrond stumbled closer and placed a hand on Lindir's shoulder. "Hir nin, I will not leave your side. Please do not ask it of me," Lindir pleaded, not taking his eyes off of the ancient Ellon before him.

Elrond sighed, knowing only a direct command would force Lindir to comply. However, he did not wish to put such pressure on his friend, and it was better to be prepared, should Elrond be mistaken in Maglor's intentions. "Do you have your bow?" Lindir nodded, and Elrond could see it on his back. "May I ask you to step back a short distance? String your weapon and ready yourself. I…I must speak with him."

If doing so was a good idea was still up for debate.

Lindir looked conflicted, but noting the pleading tone in his lord's voice, he nodded tightly, "Very well, hir nin." He sheathed his sword, and in the span of one breath, he had an arrow drawn and nocked. "One wrong move, and I will not hesitate."

"Very well," Maglor murmured, nodding his head in acceptance. Lindir stepped back several paces, as instructed, and it gave a small measure of privacy. Maglor looked at Elrond beseechingly, as if asking him to come closer without actually saying the words.

Elrond found his feet moving towards his one-time father figure, but he stayed a comfortable distance away, just out of reach. "Why have you come?" he repeated wearily. Elrond was already exhausted from the short amount of time this exchange had gone on; he couldn't imagine how he would feel later.

Maglor sighed. "It is true I have wandered for many thousands of years, mostly along the coasts, and in uninhabited lands." He laced his hands tightly together, as if he was forcing himself not to reach out and touch Elrond. "Recently, I felt a stirring in my soul…a calling, if you will."

"A calling?" Elrond asked dubiously. "To where?"

"To here," Maglor replied. "It was as if the wind was whispering where I should go, and I followed its guidance to this very place, not knowing what it meant. Now, I think I begin to understand." Elrond couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, and it brought a flicker of a smile to Maglor's face. "I remember you giving me such a look countless times, when I would ask you to do something you would have preferred not to do."

It brought to mind a few such occasions, and despite himself, Elrond found himself smiling. "Indeed, neither I nor my brother liked to follow the rules." It was a bittersweet thing to recall, but they were getting off track. He needed to know why all of this was happening. "You say you begin to understand what brought you here, and I would know of it."

A more serious expression replaced the shade of amusement on Maglor's face. "I could hear the gulls calling at one point, as I traveled along the coast of Forlindon. Their cries sounded like they were saying, 'To the sea! To the sea!', and I found myself standing on the rocky coast, staring across the calm waters." He gave Elrond a rueful smile. "However, I know how…temperamental Ossë can be, and the knowledge of what damage he could do swept through me." Maglor looked off into the distance, clearly casting his mind back to what happened. "I squinted as I spotted a light, but it was far off, and I wondered if I was imagining things. As I moved closer, I felt what seemed like a physical force pulling me forward, and I nearly fell off the rocky cliffs into the waters below."

Elrond held in a gasp of surprise, "Perhaps it was just the wind?" Yet something about the story made him doubt this. "What happened next?"

Maglor sighed. "I quickly made my way back into the sparse forest along the mountains to regroup and rest awhile. After some time, I began to hear a voice. So faint it was, that I had to strain my ears to hear the words. It directed me South, and something deep within me knew I must follow its guidance, though to what end, I did not know." A true smile graced his ageless yet scarred face, making his ancient eyes light up. "It brought me to you."

Elrond found himself smiling back, but Lindir's exclamation wiped it from his face. "You cannot mean to believe this fairy tale!" he said angrily. "It is quite the flowery story, and a perfect excuse to justify his presence here."

"It is the truth," Maglor replied, his voice quiet but his eyes flashing. "I have no reason to lie."

"You want his forgiveness so badly that you conjured up a fanciful story full of magical voices in the air," Lindir sneered. "It will not be given so easily."

"I forgave him long ago, mellon nin," Elrond murmured, and two pairs of eyes widened in shock.

"You have?" Maglor whispered, looking both hopeful and very surprised. "How can this be?"

"After all he has done to you, and those you love?" Lindir exclaimed, clearly hurt. Elrond knew he meant 'after all he has done to me', and was saddened to see a flicker of betrayal in his friend's eyes.

Elrond made his way over to Lindir, and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I cannot forgive him for the actions he took against others, for it is not mine to give. I only refer to those of my own life."

"But…he abandoned you!" Lindir countered. "Left you and your brother to go after those cursed jewels." He looked upon Maglor in disgust. "Did they burn you when you grasped them in your hands?" Maglor flinched, rubbing his hands in discomfort before nodding sadly.

"Do they still pain you?" Elrond asked, feeling uncomfortable at the angry exchange between Lindir and Maglor, but needing to know. The scarring was extensive, and the burns had healed poorly, either due to poor tending or the magic of the Silmarils.

Maglor nodded, frowning at his palms, "Yes, but it is not as bad as it once was. Or perhaps I have simply grown used to it."

Elrond was surprised at the overwhelming urge to take Maglor's hands in his, to see if he could somehow help, but resisted. Yes, he had forgiven Maglor, but it did not mean he had forgotten. Yet, he was also grateful. Maglor, and Maedhros in a smaller part, had raised him and his brother with kindness and love after his parents exited their lives, and he would be forever grateful for it.

Then Maglor said something which made him almost fall over in shock. "Elros visited me in Forlindon. Or rather, searched for me extensively and got lucky." He chuckled. "It was strange to see him with silver hair, and a beard to match. I could not discern his age, but got the feeling he was nearing the end of his life."

"What did he want?" Elrond whispered, afraid to hear the answer and still absorbing this astonishing news.

A smile briefly formed on his face before it faded away, "He wished to make peace with me. At first, I thought he meant to slay me; he held a massive, shining sword in his hand, and wore mail and armor which glittered brightly in the sunlight. Instead of drawing my own weapon, I kneeled before him." Maglor sighed, "I was ready to face my punishment; it was what I deserved."

"Yes, it was," Lindir growled, and Elrond startled; he had quite forgotten his friend was there.

"Clearly he stayed his hand," Elrond said, curious.

Maglor nodded, "He sheathed his sword and pulled me to my feet, before embracing me." He looked flabbergasted as he remembered it. "I could not believe what was happening, but was glad of it. We spoke for a long while that day, of the past as well as the present. His face would light up as he spoke of Numenor and his people; I was so proud of the man he had become." Maglor had a faraway look in his eyes, before snapping his gaze to Elrond. "He had a message for me to give you, if we should ever meet again."

Elrond was trembling; a message from his brother? After Elros sailed away to claim his Kingship in Numenor, they had never spoken again. It was one of the biggest regrets of his life. "What…what did he say?" Elrond stuttered, his voice choked with emotion.

"He wished for me to tell you he loved you, more than life, and that he did not begrudge your choice to remain as one of the Eldar," Maglor replied softly, a sad sort of smile on his pale face. "He also requested that you give your children the warmest of hugs in his stead, and tell them about the happier times you and he shared. Do you have children, Ionneg?" His eyes widened, and he snapped his jaw shut.

Elrond stiffened at the endearment; he had not been called 'my son' in many thousands of years. Even Celeborn had never used such words to refer to him, preferring to say his name instead. It made him feel warring emotions of love and heartache. Swallowing and trying to regain his composure, Elrond nodded. "Yes, a daughter and two sons, who are twins also."

Maglor's eyes lit up, "Twins! Just like you and Elros; do they look like you?"

Elrond turned his gaze to Lindir, who had seen both Elrond and his sons grow up. Begrudgingly, he answered, "They are the spitting image of Elrond and Elros."

"And your daughter?" Maglor continued, frowning as he caught the shadow which crossed Elrond's face.

Elrond sighed, his shoulders unintentionally drooping, "Do you recall how Luthien looked?" He had never met his great grandmother, of course, but had heard plenty about her beauty.

Maglor jerked a little, as if recalling the Elleth gave him physical pain; perhaps it did. "How could I forget? It was all anyone talked about." There was some bitterness there that Maglor perhaps did not mean to make known.

"Arwen looks very much the same," Elrond said, a fond smile on his face. "Although perhaps not quite as graceful."

"Will they join you then? In Valinor?" Maglor inquired hesitantly, seeming to sense something was not right.

Instead of answering the question, he surprised Maglor, "I have one other son as well, although not by blood…or perhaps he is, but very distantly." Elrond fiddled with a loose thread on his cloak. "His name is Aragorn."

Maglor furrowed his brow, "That is not an Elven name." His eyes widened, "You raised a Mortal as your own?"

Elrond nodded, "Indeed, I love Estel as a son, although my daughter never viewed him as a brother."

"I do not understand your meaning," Maglor replied with confusion. "How did she view him?"

Elrond gave him a sad smile, "As one who she would have as her husband, and now he is." He huffed a laugh. "He is the King of Gondor, and she is his Queen."

"She is Peredhel, is she not?" Maglor asked, before realization appeared on his weathered face, "She chose a mortal life, as Luthien did." Elrond nodded, and Maglor could not hold back his affection any longer. Elrond did not resist as Maglor's arms came around him, despite Lindir's protests. He sagged against him, annoyed at how he relished the embrace of one he once viewed as a father; perhaps he still did. Despite his attempts to stop them, he felt the tears rolling down his cheeks, and he buried his face in the crook of Maglor's neck like he used to do as a child. It was embarrassing, but also cathartic.

It was not something he ever thought he would do again.

After a time of what length Elrond could not determine, he pulled back. Maglor brushed some loose hair from his face and tucked it behind an ear. "Crying is nothing to be ashamed of."

"It is only another way to express how you feel," Elrond finished, recalling Maglor teaching him this lesson long ago.

Maglor smiled.

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! When the idea first sparked to write about their reunion, I thought perhaps it would only be a oneshot. However, Elrond and Maglor had more they wanted to say and do, so it turned into something longer. I have never written a Silmarillion story before, and I am excited to hear what you think. Please leave a review and feel free to follow/favorite!