MAGLOR's heart swelled to see Grimwine's beloved open her eyes. The joy in the man's eyes made up for the burn in his veins as Sauron filled the hall with his song.
The Noldo bit down his back teeth and swallowed the groan as all the veins in his body seem to boil. It was as if the lava flowed there instead of blood.
Is this how his brother felt as he burned? Maglor shook away the troubling thought and held onto hope. Then he scoffed. Hope? What hope? It was an irony to wish for hope when all hope had left him.
Maglor glanced at the edge of the hall, behind the darkness that separated him from the Sinda. Thranduil is of his kindred, but he showed Maglor there was no hope for him, no chance that he could ever return home, no chance that there was any forgiveness, no chance at all for him to return to his Vorimë one day. He could never be the Elf he once was. Thranduil made it clear Maglor would find no comfort, no penitence, no absolution. Out of all the people, it was Sauron, once his enemy, who offered him solace, a road to hope. If he could right the wrongs he had committed, if by giving up some part of him to bring peace and beauty back to the world, then wasn't it all worth it? Perhaps Eru, in his mercy, was offering him a chance to mend the wrongs he had committed? Perhaps he could hope when he felt there was no hope left for him.
Maglor reached out through their connection and knew Sauron spoke truly, at the least, the Maia believed what he said. Didn't that mean something? If not, why would the Maia let go of the women, award men for their work, and bring this mortal woman at the brink of death back to life? The Maia must have changed. Maglor needed to believe that. If Morgoth's lieutenant could change, find hope, find absolution, then there existed hope for him as well.
He tried to remember the reports he had read about Sauron. There had not been many direct encounters with Sauron. He had heard about how Sauron defeated Finrod, how Tylko's hound defeated the wolf form of Sauron. The Maia was a shape-shifter. And now what Maedhros had said about Sauron during his three decades of captivity at Angband came to Maglor. His brother had said Sauron was the only one who had willingly sat with him after the torture, to listen and to talk about things other than trying to get out information.
"He was a strange one," Maedhros had said. "Unlike other of Morgoth's minions, he was curious about us. It seemed to me he wanted to know more about us. He, more than once, stopped others from maiming me permanently." But Maedhros had also deemed Sauron more dangerous of Morgoth's lieutenants. When asked why he thought so, Maedhros had said, "Because he can give hope where there is none."
Maglor wondered whether this was what Sauron was doing, giving him hope where there was none to be had.
No. It can't be true. He had felt Sauron's sincerity when he spoke about doing good for the world. There were no lies in them. The Maia truly believed in bringing peace and beauty to this land. If there was ever a chance, however small, that what they have done can be forgiven, if he could return home, back to Valinor, he would do anything. Perhaps he could even be the elf Vorime would be proud to call her husband once again. Become someone who could stand in front of Elros and Elrond without shame. Perhaps in time, he could face Elrond and be worthy of the love the lad wished to give him. How Maglor wished that was true.
He glanced at the edge of the hall, a spot of darkness from where he was. That Sindarin lad was there, somewhere behind the darkness. But what of Thranduil? Would the Sinda ever find it in his heart to forgive him?
Maglor winced at the thought of Thranduil. He should have asked for Thranduil's release. Why had he forgotten about him?
I will kill you.
The look on Thranduil's face and the poison of his tongue flashed across Maglor's mind. The minstrel shivered.
"You have questions," Sauron whispered next to him as Maglor stood watching Grimwine walk hand in hand with his beloved, followed by Kemik and his men out of the hall.
"I just wish to believe, but I find it hard to accept them all as the truth."
"Even after feeling my intentions through our connection?"
"Sometimes it isn't the goal that matter, but how we achieve that goal. A well-meaning tyrant is still a tyrant."
"Ah, so you do not trust me."
"Trust is built, something earned. And if I am honest, I do not know you."
"But all trust, as with all things, must start with an open heart. You must, first, be willing to open yourself to it."
"And I would if you would show me you can be trusted."
Sauron tilted his head, raising the corner of his lips.
"You want me to let that Sinda go."
"Yes."
"And why should I when I know that as soon as I let him go, he will do all he could to oppose me, and kill you?"
"You fear him?"
"Of course not. Do you think if I had desired his death, he would still be alive?"
"Then why don't you let him go? He is no threat to you."
"I have allowed him to escape, yet he persists. How should I deal with that? Am I to keep ignoring him when I know he intends only the worst for me?"
"But you said he is no threat to you."
"I may be immortal, but I could be hurt. Just like you. Do I not have the right to preserve myself? And every chance he gets, he threatens, hinders, and pesters me. Perhaps a drop of blood is nothing to lose to a mosquito, but when it bites over and over, as tiny as they are, you receive sores that itch you to distraction. Would you not do everything you could to stop it? And I tell you, Kano. He will do everything to annoy me and kill you."
"If I could convince him to leave, will you then let him go?" Surely, the lad would know better than to attack a Maia alone.
Sauron sighed, dropping his shoulders. "If you wish to see this Sinda free, I would do this for you, because I care about your view of me. But while I care for you, I also care for my safety. If you give me your word that you will defend me and defend yourself should the Sinda attack us, then I will trust in that and will let him go."
"You have my word."
Sauron smiled; his golden eyes flamed like a torchlight. With a gesture of a hand, the darkness that separated them from Thranduil dissolved like a fog in the morning sun.
The young Sinda had his feet on the stone column, straining against the chains around his wrists. Sauron snapped his fingers whereupon the chains fell off from Thranduil as if they were ropes unbound. Thranduil swerved but righted himself as soon as his feet touched the ground.
"Thranduil, hear me, please." Maglor moved toward the young Sinda.
"Maglor, here, your sword." From the fold of his robe, Sauron withdrew a blade, flaming with fire. He threw it at Maglor. "Be ready to defend me."
The sword spun as it flew through the air, a whirl of flames.
Thranduil looked up and jumped at the same time the sword left Sauron's hand, before the Maia's words registered in Maglor's head.
The young Sinda snatched the sword and rotated in the air, his feet kicking off the stone column behind him. He shot forth, aiming the sword at Sauron's heart.
"Kano!" Sauron whipped out another sword, one black as tar.
Maglor jumped into the space between Sauron and Thranduil in a blur of movement.
CLANG!
Maglor blocked the flaming sword in Thranduil's hand, and with a swing, threw the Sinda off.
Thranduil turned in the air, then landed on the ground, the flaming sword now aimed at Maglor.
"Listen, Thranduil. Let's talk. We need not fight." Maglor lowered the black sword in his hand.
But, even as he did so, Thranduil lunged, closing the space between them in a blink of an eye. Maglor jumped back, out of the reach, just in time.
"Kano, wake up. Do not let the young whelp get the better of you."
CLANG!
The sound of metal on metal tore through the silence of the hall as Maglor blocked Thranduil's sword just in time as Thranduil charged again, seeking the area just below the minstrel's chin.
The black blade scraped the fiery surface of the bright sword in Thranduil's hand.
With one sweep, Maglor struck the sword aside. But Thranduil did not give him a moment to breathe as the lad blocked, then lunged again with lightning speed.
"Thranduil, please. Listen to me." Maglor stepped aside, then turned to face the Sinda.
"You have nothing I want to hear," Thranduil said, grinding his teeth, eyes flashing with deadly light. "As long as you stand between me and him, doing the work of the enemy, you are my enemy twice over."
"Then will you listen if I throw down my sword?" With that, Maglor let go of the black sword. It fell, making hardly any sound even as it hit the stone floor.
"Ha!" Thranduil sneered as he charged.
Maglor took in a breath and clenched his fists to steady himself, rooting his feet into the ground. He no longer wanted to run. And he wanted to believe that this young Sinda was not a killer, not like him.
But without faltering, the blade came.
Kano! You gave me your word!
Sauron's silent shout echoed in Maglor's head. Maglor jumped aside before Thranduil's blade could strike when an unseen force wrenched the flaming sword out of Thranduil's hand. It flew through the darkness like a falling star, illuminating the pitched darkness of the underbelly of the temple as it hurtled over the churning river and fell down the cliff.
Maglor turned back to Thranduil to find that the Sinda was chained back on the stone column as before.
"Pick up the sword, Kano." Sauron spoke aloud in Quenya.
There was power in those words and without another thought, Maglor picked up the black sword by his feet.
"The obedient dog of the Deceiver and its black master." Thranduil sneered aloud.
The words, like a poisoned dagger, ripped through Maglor's heart.
"It is not what you think. If you only want to see evil, evil is all you will see." Maglor wanted to let go of the sword, but his hand was no longer his to control.
"So says the Deceiver's lap dog. I say it as I see it."
Sauron glided over to Maglor's side. The Maia placed his arm around Maglor and leaned down and said into the Noldo's ear.
"You see how useless it is to speak with this young whelp? As you said, those who seek to see only evil in others will only see that. There is no room in their hearts for a change and no room in their minds for understanding. This is why you are needed, to bring progress, to bring mercy and understanding to these poor fools who wallow in their ignorance."
"Yes, yes." Thranduil agreed with vigorous nodding of his head. "We are so ignorant and you and your lap dog are so wise that you are willing to wipe out all who will oppose you. Go ahead. Killing me will never bring my people to their knees no matter how ignorant you think us."
"As I said, useless," Sauron said with a thin smile on his lips. "He will never stop. You saw how he would have killed you if you let him. That is how he is. He will never change, will never accept you, no matter how much you have repented and how much you have changed. Be free of him, Kano."
Be free. As sudden as a north wind, the words whispered in Maglor's head. And all he wanted was to be free, free of the hate, the judging stares, and the stabbing words.
No one will know if you get rid of this Sinda. He will just become another unknown face that fell with countless others; that's all.
Maglor gripped the black sword. Something powerful pumped through his arm into the sword as he tightened the grip.
The words were shadows, darkening Maglor's mind as night falls on a day blocking out the sunlight. The soaring sun lost its fiery warmth as it dwindled and faded, leaving a deep red tint as the walls closed about him.
Maglor breathed in and out, each breath slow and painful as if his life hung on each breath. He shook his head. The shadows danced, swirling and spreading, a dense gray fog settling into little crevices of his mind. It was dark, velvety and soothing, promising to block out all the painful, regretful and wretched memories Maglor held.
The hand holding the sword lifted as if it had a life of its own, separate from his own mind. The black blade sang, its note ringing through the muscles of his hand. Before the movement registered in his mind, the blade flew to Thranduil's bared chest, aiming at the Sinda's heart.
Bring me his heart, a voice whispered.
The blade in Maglor's hand moved. Its sharp point grazed Thranduil's pale skin. A drop of blood trailed down the Sinda's skin, a vivid red against the pale white flesh. Like a bloody teardrop. As if someone was crying.
Maglor faltered when he saw the blood. The weapon in his hand shook as the dark grief gripped him. The desire to cut open the Sinda's chest throbbed along his arm. But had he not promised he would not draw blood from another elf ever again? The black blade trembled in his hand as its sharp point grazed Thranduil's pale skin.
The shadow approached, surrounding him. Maglor looked about wildly, unsure of what was happening. Everything about him seemed lifeless and devoid of light. The desire to cut out the heart grew, the feeling overwhelming, shaking his very core.
Atar? Like a star in the midst of the night, a soft voice called to him like a light at the end of a deep, dark tunnel. From the far end of the darkness, Elrond reached in and grabbed Maglor with hands warm as summer wind and gentle as Vorimë's arms. Each caress was a reminder of Elrond's unwavering regard and affection.
Then came the image of Vorimë, standing on a tall tower of the castle at Himring. It was Himring as Maglor remembered it except that all around the once impenetrable fortress that his brother had built, instead of the wide plains, white waves of the sea lapped at its walls. She was facing the open sea and looking at him directly, her face full of joy when Maglor directed his gaze at her, something he had forbidden himself to do.
I am here. Waiting still, my love. Will you not come? Her eyes whispered. We are all still here, waiting.
Maglor breathed in as the images faded as he focused on the present and shut his mind from those who struggled to reach him.
"I will not kill him. I won't. I can't." Maglor lowered his sword. If he were to kill again, against the last oath he had made for himself, there would be no absolution, no mercy, no forgiveness. No hope. Even if others could, he never would be able to forgive himself.
"But he tried to kill us. He will never stop, Kano. He is a threat."
"No matter if he is a threat or not, I will not end a life that does not deserve to end. This Sinda may oppose me or you, but killing is not an answer. I will not kill him. And if you have truly changed, nor would you."
"Let go of an enemy whom you know will return to try his best to kill you again and again? As someone who used to command the elite Noldorin calvary, does that make sense?"
"We are not at war, Sauron. And Sindar were never our enemy. You were. In this time when even you could be considered a friend, what quarrel do I have with him and his people?"
"Maybe not with his people. But this one, he tried to kill you. And he will never stop trying to kill you or me. I know him."
"But I do not wish to kill."
"Do you think that will matter? You may not wish it, but it would not stop him from wanting to kill you," Sauron said and turned to Thranduil, speaking in the tongue of the Sindar. "This Noldo, the last remaining Feanorian, has no ill will towards you. Will you not relent and let him go? Accept that blood was spilled once. Sorry. Twice."
"Twice?" Thranduil laughed, his eyes flashing.
"Ah, three times." Sauron shrugged. "Let the bygones be bygones. If you do so, I, too, shall let you go."
"Let me make this clear to you, you scourge of Morgoth." Thranduil's voice trembled as he ground his teeth. "I, the last born of Doriath, the only remaining son of my father, shall never relent and shall never forget the wrongs that were committed," Thranduil said, his voice full of a sneer. "Whatever you wish to do with me, do it quickly. I tire of this game you two are staging. No words of yours I will trust, and anyone who listens to you is no friend of mine."
Sauron scowled, but he stood up to his full height and stepped back from Maglor.
"You see, Kano? Hopeless. He will never relent. And I will not let him take my life or yours. If Eru did not want us here, he would have struck both of us down already. We are meant to be here, Kano, to do our part to right the wrongs. And I won't just allow this young whelp to stop us from doing what good we could. You and I, we need to move on. He is our adversary in this endeavor and must be dealt with. I gave you the chance, and now I will take the matter into my own hands."
Sauron raised his hands. The chains holding Thranduil tightened, and the Sinda clenched his teeth as his face distorted, turning red.
"Wait! Please. Let's take a moment." Maglor turned to Sauron.
If it was the last thing he did in this world, Maglor wanted to save the lad. Something about this Sinda, he could not tell exactly what, struck Maglor deeply. This Sinda needed to live. And it was up to him to keep Thranduil alive. Maglor looked up, seeking Sauron's eyes. Sauron met Maglor's eyes. The Maia's golden eyes were unwavering. He meant to kill Thranduil. Maglor realized Sauron had decided and there was nothing else that can be done to persuade the Maia otherwise.
Maglor bent his head, closing his mind. Their connection made it easier to feel each other's emotions, but his mind was still his.
Gripping the black sword in his hand, Maglor fingered the metal. There was something familiar about the metal. The way it felt as it slid across his own flaming sword, Maglor knew the blade was made of the same metal as that of his sword, fully capable of cutting off the chains encircling Thranduil. But cutting off the chains alone would not stop Sauron.
Maglor glanced at the cliff. He had seen the rapid flow of the river as his sword illuminated the area as it fell. And along with it, he had heard the roar of the water as it fell into another body of water, probably into the Sea of Rhun.
The problem was Sauron, however. Even if he managed to cut off the chains and let Thranduil escape, Sauron would not allow it. Maglor looked down at his wrist where the gold band lay hidden under his sleeve. He had given Sauron too much control. Maglor regretted it now, but it was too late.
"If you are reluctant, it is all right, Kano." Sauron's soothing voice reached him. "It is to be expected. But sometimes, to achieve great things, we must make sacrifices. What is more important? Our own absolution or the good of the world? We cannot be selfish. Sometimes we must soil our hands to save the world."
What Sauron was saying was not untrue. Still, Maglor wanted to save the young elf. Even at the cost of losing it all. Even if it was for the selfish reason, for him, to be able to forgive himself. But to do so, he would have to incapacitate Sauron first. Maglor knew he could not kill the Maia, and he did not want to kill him, not when Sauron seemed genuinely repentant of his past wrongdoings. But for Thranduil's sake, he could injure Sauron just enough to make time for the Sinda to escape.
Maglor gripped the black sword. It was deadly enough to injure a Maia, just enough to give him time to cut the chains and throw Thranduil off the cliff. The Sinda was strong enough. The fast-moving current of the river would do the rest and protect Thranduil. If he remembered correctly, Sauron, just like the Orcs and other Morgoth's creatures, feared water. Water was Vala Ulmo's domain and even Morgoth lacked the power to control it.
Taking a long breath, Maglor calmed his frantic heart. What he planned required precision and speed.
Everything will work out, Maglor told himself. It must.
"Kano, remember the Doom of Mandos." As if he knew what Maglor was thinking, Sauron stepped away from Maglor, putting space between them. "Think too much, and sometimes things turn out quite differently than what you thought."
Maglor swallowed. His arm holding the sword tingled. The door to his mind that he had closed was opening, against his own will. The blood inside him was boiling again.
"I am doing this for your sake, Kano." Sauron's voice cooed. "Once this is over, you will feel better. I promise."
Maglor watched as his hand raised the sword. He grabbed the hand holding the sword with his other hand to prevent it from lifting the blade.
"What are you doing to me?"
"Do not fight me, Kano. It will be all right."
It came to him then. Perhaps there was a reason why Thranduil would not relent. Perhaps Sauron was doing to him what Morgoth had done to his father. Perhaps it wasn't just Thranduil who needed to escape. Maglor looked down at his wrist at the golden bracelet. Was it too late?