Celebrian and Elrond enjoy their reunion, while the shadow of Maglor's fate hangs over them. What will happen next? Read on to find out!
Chapter 6Elrond and Celebrian spent the rest of the day in each other's arms. The seaside bungalow where Celebrian had been staying was beautiful and quaint. "There are many of these available for just this purpose, although less and less ships have been coming of late, leaving many vacant," Celebrian explained.
Elrond closed his eyes as the sea breeze ruffled his hair lightly. "It is quite a pleasant view, although," he gave his wife a sly smile, "Not nearly as pleasant as this." She blushed prettily, and sighed in pleasure as Elrond peppered her neck with kisses. "I had forgotten how smooth your skin is, meleth nin," he murmured, and she shivered as he caressed her soft curves.
After a delightful period where no words were required, Celebrian kissed him one last time before rising to make them some food. Elrond smiled and raised an eyebrow as she proudly presented a loaf of dark bread with some jam and hard cheese. "What an extravagant meal you have made for us," he said with a wide grin. She hit his shoulder playfully before settling herself into his lap as they ate. It felt like it did when they were first married, and it was just the two of them learning about each other every day.
Elrond had loved her from the day they met, but had refused to acknowledge it for many years. It wasn't until Gil-Galad knocked some sense into him by pointing out how many suitors surrounded her at a festival one night, and he realized he wanted to be the one to spirit her away from them all and never let her go. Sure enough, once he escorted her out onto the balcony of the large talan where the party was occurring, intending to have a long conversation with her about his feelings, she unexpectedly threw her arms around him and pulled him into a kiss. He asked for her hand shortly after, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Once they had finished eating, Celebrian settled the two of them on a settee near one of the large windows. It was dark now, and the stars shone brightly. "Now, meleth nin, would you like to speak about Maglor?"
Elrond sighed, noting how it weighed down his heart, and slowly told the story of how they met in the forest, and the journey to Mithlond and eventually Valinor. "It felt like a dream, when I realized it was him. How could he be there, right in front of me, after such a long time? I had assumed he was dead, and I rarely allowed myself to think about him."
Celebrian entwined her fingers with his, "Yet, I know you never stopped loving him, despite everything he had done." Elrond looked at her in surprise, and her lips curved into a smile. "Consider how long we have known each other; I could see it in the way you raised our children." A shadow crossed her face; Elrond had reluctantly told her of Arwen's choice, and her tears had broken his heart. "You would tell them stories, which they believed you had created, but I knew they were based on true tales of your childhood."
"Yes, many of them were," Elrond admitted. "I cannot claim my childhood was an easy one, and there was much pain and difficulty, but I always felt loved. Whether it was by my naneth, Maglor and Maedhros, or the family who cared for us in Lindon, there was no shortage of affection and love."
Celebrian frowned, "What of Earendil? Do you not consider him your family as well?"
"He is my Adar by blood, and I do love him, in a way, but he is not the Adar of my heart," Elrond whispered, feeling a little ashamed. "Does this make me a poor son? What will he think of me, should he find out how I feel?"
"He will continue to love you anyway," Celebrian said softly. "You may not remember much of him, but I am sure he remembers you, and your brother."
"Does he ever come here, or is his dwelling far away?" Elrond asked.
"He lives with your mother in a tower to the North, past Alqualonde and just off the coast, on a little island," Celebrian explained. "I have never met him, for I spend most of my time in Tirion." She furrowed her brow. "Although I would prefer to move out of the city, now that you are here."
Elrond smiled down at her. "I hope to find something similar to Imladris. Do you know of any colony or village where our people have settled?"
Celebrian nodded, "Yavanna's lands are vast, and on the Eastern side of her forests, there are many dwellings. I think we would like it there."
"Then that is where we shall go, meleth nin," Elrond stated, and kissed her forehead. "I am so happy to be with you once more."
Elrond grew restless as time passed with no word of Maglor's sentence. He kept his ear to the ground, listening for any whisper or rumor about it, but heard nothing except people's opinions over his arrival. Most were not complimentary. Elrond could not blame them, and knew if Maglor survived, that he would have a difficult time fitting in here. Formenos, where Feanor and his sons had once lived, was uninhabited, and none of the brothers had returned from Mandos. It reinforced the likelihood of Maglor being sent to join them in those halls, and even Celebrian could not fully banish his anxiety and heartache over it.
"Celebrian, do you think the Valar would make a spectacle of him?" Elrond asked quietly.
She frowned, "What do you mean?"
"Would they e-execute him publicly?" Elrond stuttered, the words difficult to say. "People might wish to see justice done with their own eyes."
"I would hope they would keep such a thing out of the public eye," she said softly, wrapping her arms around Elrond. "Yet, I cannot but hope he will be spared."
Elrond whirled around to face her, still in her embrace. "Do you think there is a chance?"
Celebrian shrugged. "You told me of how long he had wandered alone. As you said, perhaps this will be a sentence of its own."
Suddenly, both of them shivered as they felt a powerful presence in their minds, and Elrond knew it had to be a message from the Valar. Sure enough, who Elrond assumed to be Eonwe, the herald of Manwë, spoke to them. "The Valar have passed judgement on Maglor, son of Feanor, and invite any who wish to learn of it to gather in Valmar, the day after next, at twilight." They both waited for more details, but none came, to Elrond's frustration. "They wish to make an example of him!" Elrond said furiously. It was as he feared.
"Hush, meleth nin, you assume the worst," Celebrian said comfortingly. "We do not know all of the details yet."
Elrond extricated himself from his wife's arms and began pacing. "I assume at least Manwë and Varda will be there, but I would not be surprised to see all of the Valar appear for something of such importance." He turned to her, in anguish, "He will be killed, and people will believe it to be just, but they do not know Maglor as I do. They do not see the good that is in him. His life is worth something, and I believe he is worth saving!" He felt like his thoughts were going in circles, and he knew he kept saying them out loud; he hoped it did not annoy Celebrian.
"It does not annoy me," she murmured, gently putting her hands on his shoulders to halt his pacing. "You are hurting, and I wish to help you carry your burdens. Always."
Settling into her arms once more, he took some deep breaths. "It will be difficult to wait, yet I almost wish the day would not come, if you understand me."
"I do," she whispered. "Let us get some rest. I will sing, and keep bad dreams far from you." Elrond gave her a grateful smile, and as he laid his head on her chest, her sweet voice lulled him into reverie.
The day finally came, and many were making the journey to Valmar. There was a nervous, excited energy among the large crowds of Elves, and it made Elrond feel sick to his stomach. He knew how many people wished for Maglor to die; how would they react, should he be given mercy?
Elrond kept his arms securely around Celebrian's waist as they rode. Glorfindel was by his side, like always, and kept giving him concerned looks. There were bards and musicians who seamlessly took turns sharing their music; it was almost like a celebration, Elrond thought bitterly. Perhaps, for some, it was. Lindir, seeming to pick up on Elrond's feelings, thankfully withheld his musical talents.
After a long day of travel, Elrond helped Celebrian dismount before handing his horse over to a stablehand. As much as he wished to stay hidden among the crowd, Celebrian encouraged him to move towards the front. "It may be your face will bring Maglor some comfort, should he see you."
Once everyone was in place, an awed hush fell over the crowd as the entirety of the Valar filled a large dais, with Manwë and Varda in the center. They had taken the guises of Elves, as was their preference when in public, and Elrond's eyes widened as a both familiar and unfamiliar person made his way over to his side. "Mithrandir?" Elrond whispered.
The person smiled, "I go by Olórin here, my old friend." Despite his ageless visage, the familiar twinkle was still in his eye. "Lady Celebrian," he added, nodding politely at her.
"I did not expect to see you here," Elrond stammered, still trying to gain his composure. "I assumed you were with Frodo and Bilbo in Tol Eressëa."
Olórin became more serious, and placed a hand on Elrond's shoulder. "I knew today would be a difficult one for you, and wished to be by your side to support you." A small smile graced his face, "Bilbo also insisted I come, for he is truly grateful for letting him live in Imladris all of those years."
"Do you know the verdict?" Elrond asked hesitantly.
The Maia shook his head, "We were not made privy to the discussion, nor their decision."
Elrond's shoulders sagged, "I know you would tell me to have hope, but I find little here." He motioned around at the crowd. "This will be a spectacle."
"I know, as much as we wish it was not," Olórin said with a sigh. "Whatever happens, just remember how much he loved you. Carry him in your heart, and he will never truly be gone."
Pushing away the urge to weep, he simply pulled his wife closer, craving her comfort. "I know; he told me so on the way here." He sighed. "I am glad we-" but his voice caught in his throat, for Maglor was being led forth, in chains, before everyone. He felt like he couldn't breathe, as the pain squeezed his chest like a vice.
Maglor stood tall, back straight and eyes forward, but it did not make him look arrogant or proud. Rather, he looked like one who was prepared to accept his fate, no matter what it may be. Elrond felt a surge of admiration for him. He was worried there would be some jeering or even applause in the crowd, but was thankful when only a bit of murmuring was present, and it soon ended when Manwë raised his hand. They had placed Maglor in the center of the dais, but at a lower level than the Valar, and he bowed to them deeply before turning around to face the crowd, as directed.
"Maglor, son of Feanor, of the House of the Noldor, do you understand why you are here tonight?" Manwë said, his voice echoing with power.
"I do, hir nin," Maglor replied steadily.
Manwë waited a moment, before his eyes met those of his wife, Varda. They communicated something to each other without words, and Manwë gave her a tiny nod, before facing the front once more. "We pronounce you guilty of the slaying of your Kin, thrice over. We pronounce you guilty of your Oath, for it was one which led to much evil." Maglor did not flinch, but Elrond could see the tightening of his posture as each word was said. Elrond felt Manwë's gaze on him, and it left him spellbound.
Until he heard the Vala's next words.
"We pronounce you guilty of the kidnapping of Elrond and Elros Peredhil, the sons of Earendil the Blessed and Elwing the White." Elrond froze, wide eyes raised to meet those of Maglor, who was staring at him with such gravity that Elrond felt it like a physical force. He suddenly noticed a firm hand gripping his shoulder, and he realized Olórin was preventing him from storming the dais, which he had not realized he was about to do.
'Can I not speak on his behalf?' Elrond communicated to Olórin, via his mind; they had done so in the past, when he was still Gandalf, and figured they could do so now.
'His trial has already happened. Whether you have forgiven him or not, he did kidnap you, and it is a punishable offense.'
Elrond prevented himself from saying something about the Valar that he would regret, and faced forward once more, as Manwë continued. "You have pled guilty to all of these charges."
"I have, hir nin," Maglor said, his musical voice ringing through the outdoor gathering.
"Will you accept the sentence on which we will bestow upon you now?" Manwë asked.
There was no hesitation when Maglor replied, "I will, hir nin." His eyes met Elrond's again, and he gave him a tiny smile. He tries to comfort me while facing his own death Elrond thought, his heart aching.
Everyone was waiting on bated breath, and there was silence. The sentence would be declared, and all Elrond wanted to do was run up to Maglor and embrace him.
Yet, all he could do was stand where he was, each moment feeling like an Age.
As Elrond feared, the sentencing of Maglor is a public event. All he wants to do is to be by Maglor's side and comfort him, but he must resist the urge to do it. What did the Valar decide? Find out in the next chapter! Thanks for reading, and leave a review!