Getting close to the Grey Havens now; how will Maglor be received?
Chapter 3As requested, one of the scouts returned to tell Elrond that they were approaching Mithlond; they would be to the coastal city by evening.
The last time Elrond had been to Mithlond was when he escorted his ailing wife. Helping her onto a ship and leaving her there, while he returned to dry land, was the hardest thing he had ever done. The urge to travel with her had been overwhelming, but he had a duty to his people and could not forsake them, and Arwen was not yet grown. He also had sensed and foreseen, in part, the return of Sauron, and felt he had a part to play in ending such a threat. His ring of power had helped guard his realm, but as he beheld it on his hand, he knew its power was now extinguished. It was a small price to pay for the defeat of Morgoth's best lieutenant.
After some debate, Elrond decided to travel ahead with Glorfindel and the rest of his personal guard, to inform Cirdan about Maglor. It would be in poor taste, to put it mildly, to arrive with Maglor without warning; Cirdan would possibly consider it a betrayal of their friendship. He needed to give the Shipwright a chance to prepare himself.
There was also the possibility he would deny Maglor entry into his realm, which was his right, but would create a whole set of problems. Elrond was hopeful he could convince Cirdan to allow Maglor to board a ship, once he had all the information…but the Sons of Feanor had wreaked much havoc on his people. He was a patient, wise Ellon, but such wounds do not truly, fully heal.
Before he rode off, Elrond met with Maglor to say farewell. "I will meet you there," he said, hoping he didn't sound as nervous as he felt.
Maglor gave him a shadow of a smile. "Travel safe," he said lightly, but there was worry in his eyes. Was it for Elrond, or for Maglor himself? "Namarie."
With one last look, Elrond turned forward and rode off at a brisk pace. Every step away from Maglor was difficult, and he wondered at the feeling. Was it because he would miss his presence, or was there some danger Elrond was subconsciously feeling? A sense of foreboding settled upon him. He had placed Maglor in the custody of a few Elves he knew he could trust not to snap and physically injure the Ellon, and he just had to have faith in their professionalism and duty to follow his orders.
Unsurprisingly, Cirdan was angry about Maglor. A reserved Ellon, Cirdan did not express his emotions or thoughts in obvious ways. However, at the mere name of Maglor, Elrond could see an ancient fire flicker in his wise eyes, which turned to an inferno when he heard Maglor was traveling with them.
Cirdan's face was smooth as glass, but he was taking deep breaths as he worked to compose himself before speaking. "You are bringing a Son of Feanor to my realm," he stated gravely. "I thought perhaps he had died over the centuries, but clearly I was mistaken."
Elrond kept his tone as even as possible. "It is clear that the Valar wish for him to return to Aman to face judgement." He then went on to explain Maglor's story and his own dream. "I fear it might be worse to leave him here."
"Worse for who?" Cirdan asked. "Maglor, or yourself?"
Elrond frowned, "I do not understand your meaning."
"I sense it would cause you pain, should he remain here while you go forward," Cirdan replied knowingly. "Yet, he may very well face his death in the West. At least here, he would live."
"Live, perhaps, but in despair," Elrond said sadly.
"Is that not what he deserves?" Cirdan replied tightly, and Elrond could see his calm veneer starting to crack. "Is death a punishment, or a reward?"
Elrond waited a moment before replying carefully, "He has suffered much over the many yeni he has wandered alone. I feel he should have the chance to plead his case to the Valar, and let them decide his fate."
"Plead his case?" Cirdan said, his voice simmering with fury. Elrond took a step back. "He has no case. He is guilty of slaying innocents, our kin, over an object. Beautiful as they are, the Silmarils and the cursed Oath led to the murder of thousands!"
"I understand-" Elrond attempted to interject.
"No, child, you do not understand," Cirdan gritted, and Elrond could see the slight trembling of his shoulders. "You were too young to fully comprehend it, and then you treated Maglor as a father!" Elrond took another step back, and noted with some alarm that Glorfindel had a hand on the hilt of his sword. Surely Cirdan would not harm him…right?
Elrond held up his hands in peace. "There was no one else. We were children, Elros and I. If Maglor and Maedhros had not cared for us, I would likely not be standing here right now." Elrond took a deep breath, "I know your hatred of him runs deep, and it is justified. However, the Valar have summoned him, whether we like it or not. You know what the consequences of defying their decrees can be."
Cirdan let out a slow breath, and some of the fury went with it. "I am sorry, mellon nin. I did not mean to take out my anger on you.'
"It is a difficult situation," Elrond murmured sadly. "He will be well-guarded at all times, but I do not believe he will act violently to anyone." That is, unless they attack him first.
Speaking of which…
An Elleth was flying towards the small group on her horse, and just about fell off of it to speak with Elrond. "Hir nin, something has happened!" she gasped, her eyes wide.
"Lalaith, take a few breaths and then explain," Elrond said calmly, but his heart was pounding with dread.
After doing just that, she said, "Some of the Elves…they are…"
"Spit it out!" Glorfindel yelled in frustration.
Lalaith flinched, "They are saying cruel things to M-Maglor, and…and some of them are hitting him with branches…and-"
Elrond felt fury blaze through him. "I have heard enough. This is unacceptable, and there will be punishment." He turned to Cirdan. "I am sorry, but I must return to my party to try and fix this."
Cirdan clasped his shoulder. "Good luck. We will be ready for you when you return."
Giving the Ellon a nod, he swung into the saddle along with the rest of his Guard, and raced back from whence they came.
Elrond could hear the commotion before he saw it. There were many voices, some shouting, others laughing, or murmuring nervously. "Let us approach quietly, and see if we can get a read on the situation," Glorfindel suggested.
Elrond chafed at this, wanting to step in immediately, but gathering details covertly might be best. They dismounted a short distance away and crept through the trees silently, as they had all been taught. As they reached the edge of the group, they circled around to where Glorfindel determined Maglor to be.
What Elrond saw next made him want to rage in fury.
Maglor was still tied up, but now to a tree. His arms were pulled tightly behind him, with another rope binding his legs tightly together so he needed to focus to keep his balance and stay upright. His face had fresh scratches on it, and his clothing had clearly been torn by branches or other things. Elrond's eyes widened at the blood trickling sluggishly down Maglor's arms. The thing that hurt Elrond's heart the most was the grim acceptance in Maglor's eyes. He believed he was deserving of this treatment (or worse), and did not protest.
"Elrond," Glorfindel whispered urgently. "Try and stay calm." Elrond had not noticed how his hand was gripped tightly on the hilt of his sword, and he had begun to pull it out of its sheath.
"Stay calm?" Elrond replied lowly, shaking with both anger and fear. "Look at what my people are doing!" He tried to spot the Ellyn he had tasked to guard Maglor, but they were not nearby.
Glorfindel paused, before saying, "Can you not blame them?" Elrond's eyes swiveled to meet his friend's, and Glorfindel flinched at what he must have seen there. "He has caused much grief, and many here lost people they loved because of it."
"That does not give them the right to disobey my direct orders," Elrond said bitingly.
"While this is true, it is imperative you approach the scene calmly, or at least appear to be calm," Glorfindel advised. "They view you as a leader with a level head, so you must set aside your emotions and act like one. I have seen you do so before."
Elrond took a shuddering breath and tried to calm his racing heart. It squeezed as an Ellon named Calenthir strode to the front, giving a mocking bow to Maglor. "My Prince, or rather, my King," There was some jeering and laughter. "You stand before us now, exactly as you deserve. What are your orders?" Maglor remained silent, his eyes cast to the ground. "Nothing to decree?" Calenthir smirked. "Perhaps you wish to tell me I should let you go." Silence. "I will, if you make a promise to leave this place and never sully us with your presence again. Or perhaps," Elrond could see his eyes glitter with mischief, but it was not the light-hearted kind. There was cruelty in his gaze, one he had not seen in an Elf in many long years; it was chilling. "You should swear an Oath on it."
Maglor's jaw was clenched so tightly that Elrond feared it would crack, and did not reply. However, his eyes finally raised to meet Calenthir's, and he was unable to mask the blazing intensity he saw. Elrond felt a flash of grim satisfaction as Calenthir took a large step back with a look of unease on his face; the Ellon was young and foolish, and probably felt he was avenging his grandparents by treating Maglor this way. He swallowed and the mocking expression was back in place, but he could not fully banish the discomfort of Maglor's eyes on him.
"Calenthir, I think we should untie him," a quiet Elleth suggested, her voice wobbling. "I…I think he has learned his lesson." Elrond figured she perhaps had not supported this from the beginning.
"Quiet, muinthel," Calenthir hissed. "He deserves much more for what he has done!"
Elrond could not wait any longer, and strode forward. There were gasps of surprise, and when Calenthir spotted him, his eyes widened as his face lost all color. "Perhaps he does, but that is not for you to dole out, Calenthir." His voice was as calm as he could make it, but the anger could not be fully banished. "Untie him. Now." Calenthir hurried to comply, his hands shaking as he fumbled with the knots. Maglor looked ashamed, but Elrond set this aside for now. Once he was free, the Ellon stumbled forward a bit, and Elrond put a steadying hand on his shoulder. "I have you now," he whispered. "I will make this right."
"Pen-I mean, Lord Elrond, it is all right, this is no more than I deserve," he replied, just as softly. "Do not blame them for their anger; it is justified. Punish them not."
But Elrond would not acquiesce to this request.
After settling Maglor safely on the ground, and asking a healer to tend to him, he faced Calenthir. "Who else directly participated in this plan of yours? And do not lie and say it was only you, for clearly this was not the case." Sure enough, a handful of other Elves came forward, looking ashamed. Elrond addressed them, and the rest of his people. "I do not tolerate such cruelty. He is an Ellon, not an orc! We do not treat our people in such ways." Elrond took a deep breath. "Yes, Maglor has hurt many, but our people have learned our lessons over the years. Or at least, I thought so." There was a deafening silence, only punctuated by shifting discomfort. "I ordered him to be protected, and unharmed, yet here I see evidence to the contrary. I am disappointed and frankly dismayed at your actions. You felt you could do whatever you wanted, once I was gone, yet this is not the case." Elrond narrowed his eyes at the perpetrators. "I will think on a fitting punishment. For now, you will be closely monitored by my guards." He addressed everyone. "Anyone who thinks it is acceptable to do such things again will answer to me." With that, everyone mounted their horses and waited for the signal to continue on.
Glorfindel murmured, "I will find the Ellyn who were tasked to guard Maglor and investigate why they were not at their posts." He sighed. "Despite my...dislike for our prisoner, they disobeyed orders. They will be reprimanded, hir nin."
Elrond nodded, and then turned to kneel down next to Maglor, who was having his wounds treated and bandaged. "I am sorry. I never should have left."
"You could not have known what they would do," Maglor countered. "It is paltry in comparison to what some of my brothers would have done to someone they named a traitor." His lip curled in distaste, and Elrond had a few guesses which ones he was referring to.
"Nevertheless, I will keep you safe, as long as I am able," Elrond vowed.
"That is my job, penneth," Maglor said weakly, trying to smile.
Elrond took his hand and squeezed gently, "Not this time." After the healer was finished, Elrond pulled Maglor to his feet. He turned to Glorfindel and said, "He rides with me, and I will hear no arguments."
Glorfindel's expression was unhappy, to put it mildly. "I will walk beside you then, and keep a close eye."
"But hir nin, your weapons?" Lindir asked, and Elrond understood what he meant. Unbuckling his sword and two daggers, he gave them to the Ellon. Despite himself, he kept the one which was hidden in his boot. Clearly, Lindir was worried Maglor could take one of them and use it to harm Elrond; at least this way, there would be no chance of it. Elrond believed Maglor would not do such a thing to someone he considered a son, but better to have some form of protection, should he face any danger on the journey.
After this distressing turn of events, they were off again. Maglor was seated in front of Elrond in the saddle, somewhat stiffly. "Are you in pain?" Elrond asked.
"No, I am well," Maglor insisted.
"You would say that whether you were or not," Elrond said wryly. Maglor chuckled and relaxed a bit. "We are not far from Mithlond."
"Cirdan knows of me?" Maglor asked softly.
"Yes, I explained the situation," Elrond replied.
"I…assume he is not pleased," Maglor said hesitantly.
Elrond sighed, "No, he is not, but he understands and will not prevent you from boarding a ship."
"That is well," Maglor murmured. "I admit to having mixed feelings over this. I know traveling to Aman is the right thing to do, but I cannot deny that…that I am afraid." It made Elrond sad to hear it, and he squeezed Maglor's shoulder in comfort.
Nothing more was said, until Maglor stiffened as they spotted the high, white towers of the Grey Havens just ahead. It was time to 'face the music,' so to speak, which was an ironic phrase to think, as Maglor was a musician.
Elrond prayed things would remain peaceful going forward, but only time would tell.
Unsurprisingly, there are those who would rather Maglor remain behind than travel with them to Aman. He does not blame them for their actions, but that does not make their cruelty justified. Things are sure to get more complicated as they get closer and closer to their destination; how will Maglor deal with this, and will Elrond be able to be both a wise leader and a loving son, when they sometimes conflict with one another? Thanks for reading, and leave a review!