A/N: I continue to be thankful and delighted that you have come along with me on this journey. Your kind reviews give me the courage to go on and I appreciate each one very much. Many thanks to Stasey my Beta Geek for all the comma chopping and the suggested word or two. The wonderful Elvish continues to be a gift from Colleen the beauteous Canon Nazi. I want to send a great big thank you to Treehugger for her loan of the Master Archer, Tanglinna, for a shimmer vision.
Disclaimer: J. R. R. Tolkien is the master, I only borrow what is his adding the things that are mine.
Maedhros' End – By Ceana
Chapter Six – Very Much A Family
"Go now. Bring him out." Although the words were softly spoken, each one sliced across her heart like the edge of a razor-sharp blade. Still she hesitated as she prayed for any kind of a miracle. Knowing all the while that in the end, she would have to obey.
Sitting in one of the two chairs he built, Maedhros picked up the wooden figurine from the cloth lying across his lap and cradled it in his hand. Needing no additional light other than the Shimmer, he smiled as he inspected his handiwork. The seed oil he had just finished rubbing into the carved wood had helped to create the illusion of soft feathers. The tilt of the tiny bird's head and its raised wings were a single precious moment captured from the remnant of a bough that had fallen after a recent storm. It was his physical interpretation of the little voice that had brought him back from the brink of despair during the first bleak days of his arrival. The short years that followed had not dimmed the sound of that voice.
Although the small wooden bird looked as if it was ready to take flight, it perched quietly in the safety of Maedhros' fingers. It was to be a present for his savior…his other tithen aiwe. If only he had the proper tools and a forge, he would have shaped the bird out of silver. He would then add delicate knotting and swirls to make a fine ornament for her hair. But the forest was his only source of material so he had to be satisfied with that.
A smile crept slowly across his full lips. The anniversary of her birth was approaching. Unlike the Eldar, her people did not have the power to know the moment of begetting. Instead, they celebrated the birth of a child on that date each year.
As he ran his thumb along the bird's tiny beak, he hoped Elizabeth would be pleased with it. He wanted her to have this token of his affection…of his gratitude for all the things she had done for him. She had loyally stood by him while he regained his strength, and helped his mind to heal. Some how she continued to keep him secret from her people. He knew it had been hard at times to do this, but her courage and resourcefulness was remarkable in one so young.
Besides the extra food she brought from the Bramford kitchens, she also continued to bring scrolls and books from her family's library to help nourish his mind. She even brought him some of her brothers' clothing: allowing him the freedom to venture out more easily into the countryside on his quest for knowledge. He endured his banishment with these small comforts, and her visits filling his solitary days.
He still did not know what his future held, but he knew it was not to be confined to the Shimmer and the rock walls of his cave. So he set out to learn all he could of his new home. At first, it saddened him to find that there was little difference between the worlds. The men here participated in the same kinds of wars he had fought. Their justifications for them were pitifully familiar. They had their own misguided attachments to false oaths that drew them towards the same foolish ends. Maedhros had seen enough of this kind of warfare. Battles that were the same empty gestures in which Elizabeth and he shared in the mutual loss of fathers and brothers.
Looking up from his labor, he watched the doorway as he listened to familiar footfalls in the passageway. Maedhros smiled, she was in a hurry. He wondered what news she brought with her today? But his smile quickly faded as Elizabeth appeared in the doorway, out of breath, and obviously upset. She tried to speak, but found it hard between deep pulls of air.
Maedhros' apprehension increased as he searched her face. Tears filled her eyes as she tried to speak. When she finally did, Maedhros' concern turned ominous. She stretched her hand out to him. "You must come," her small voice said anxiously.
Quickly wrapping his gift in the cloth, Maedhros laid it gently on the ground near the pool. He slid his sword into its scabbard, and then took Elizabeth's hand in his. As she hastily led him down the passage, the pounding of his heart echoed deep inside his chest. Something was very wrong. His apprehension only increased when Elizabeth refused to answer his questions. He did not know what awaited them outside. Only that he was prepared to face any threat in order to keep her safe.
Waves of panic rushed through him as Elizabeth suddenly let go of his hand and began to run ahead. He called after her, but she ignored him. She was out of the passage before Maedhros could stop her. His breath caught in his throat, his mind reeling. She was running straight into danger. He swiftly drew his sword.
Maedhros rushed out of the opening into the brilliant sunshine and stopped. Although his eyes quickly adjusted to the surrounding brightness, he did not move as he looked at the scene before him.
Elizabeth stood safely near one of the standing stones, Maedhros could see the wrinkled hands of the older woman holding her shoulders as they kept their charge from running to him. The girl's frightened eyes were fixed on the small group of soldiers with swords drawn, clustered protectively around the elegantly dressed woman standing on the pathway.
Maedhros could see the family resemblance between Elizabeth and the woman who stood calmly scrutinizing him with her intense dark eyes. Without her icy gaze leaving his face, Margaret Bramford raised her bejeweled hand and her soldiers quickly moved towards the stranger.
"NO!" Elizabeth screamed. She broke away from the woman's grasp and ran to Maedhros.
Maedhros had to make a quick decision; he threw his sword to the ground. He was determined not to fight the advancing men.
= = = = = = =
After the discovery of the Shimmer, what remained of the night passed quickly into morning. When Ailsa finally awoke, she knew she had a fresh purpose. Now that everything was out in the open, there were no more barriers left. It now fell to Ewan and Ailsa to protect Maedhros' secrets and the days that followed became the true beginning of their stewardship of Egla Tir.
With Maedhros' help, they could now focus on both the Archives and the Shimmer taking all the various written accounts and make them into a chronological record. Maedhros' recollections were invaluable as they put together most of the history of what he called the "First Age."
He was proud to tell them of their heritage, and was more than pleased with their interest. But still, Maedhros had grave concerns. The off chance that Ewan and Ailsa might see images of him as he participated in battles against other Elves was never far from his thoughts. He prayed they would never see him or his brothers committing any of the kinslayings. To have to relive the slayings was torment enough, but to have to see their reaction to the carnage the family had caused was something he dreaded most deeply. He knew their opinion of him would change irrevocably if they saw him in full murderous fury. How could it not? He would never be able to face either one of them again after that. For now, whatever its reason, the Shimmer mercifully continued to keep such things from their eyes.
Then there were the sounds and voices still emanating from the Shimmer to consider. The reason why or how the voices came through the barrier was still a mystery. Except for the incident with the lone Elf on the battlements, there was no contact with anyone else. The Elf's image, however, continued to wander unbidden through Ailsa's thoughts. She still remembered the unwanted sadness she felt from him. His moon-softened face was branded in her mind as he whirled around again to see who had spoken behind him. To her regret, neither the location nor the Elf had manifested themselves again.
Ewan, however, reasoned that the barrier had somehow been weakest at that point. Hoping to find another such weakness, Maedhros tried making himself heard within the mist. He would call a greeting or question into the Shimmer and wait for a reply. Frustration filled his eyes as he patiently stood waiting for any kind of a response, but he received none. He attempted do this many times, but with the same result. Finally, Maedhros gave up and returned to translating conversations for them.
Their questions naturally multiplied as he went through the various stories unfolding in the mist. Ewan couldn't help being amused whenever Ailsa made Maedhros repeat an Elvish phrase or word. He could tell she was falling in love with the language. He had even tried shouting into the Shimmer a line or two himself.
Maedhros was delighted that they had an ear for the Elvish tongue. So it was only natural when he began to teach it to them in earnest. He would take them on walks around the estate and tell them the name of things much as Elizabeth had done when he first learned English. Her gentle voice still echoed in his memory as she pronounced the words. During restless nights…when rest was elusive, he used Ewan's recorder to put together lessons for them.
He told them Egla Tir meant "Forsaken Watcher." That the writing on the gate and at the bottom of the great window in the hall was a kind of family motto, Nai ve i Valar mer…"May It Be As the Valar Desire." To Ewan and Ailsa, these rather sad phrases still sounded beautiful when Maedhros spoke them.
Maedhros' students were more than eager and learned quickly. He taught them there were two forms of Elvish. Sindarin was used most often, and was filled with the wonderfully lyrical sounds that fascinated Ailsa so much. His people had adopted this form for everyday use, especially after their own language was forbidden to them.
Quenya from the Blessed Realm was much older. This was the language of the Noldor, of their lore, song and poetry. Its usage was delegated to rituals, but never in public once Thingol, King of Doriath and Over-lord to the Sindar banned it. When asked why, Maedhros reluctantly explained. "It was the language of …the Kinslayers. It had no place in Middle-earth." Ewan and Ailsa mourned the fact that the Oath had even cost Maedhros the use of his own language.
It also brought home the fact that although the Shimmer had become a learning tool for them; it had been created for a far different reason. Their excitement over its existence couldn't overshadow its true purpose. It was there to punish Maedhros, and it would continue to do so…forever.
This was made abundantly clear as they stood beside him listening to the soft voices coming from the glowing mist. Maedhros' body would suddenly stiffen, as a recognized face would appear. They could only imagine what he endured as his own face softened into memory. It was hard to stand quietly by and hear the cheerless sigh of longing as it escaped his lips. To see his long slender fingers lovingly touch the unyielding surface. Sometimes it was too much for Ewan to even stay in the room. Ailsa, however, was determined to remain even though it broke her heart to witness him trying to will his hand through the Shimmer…to touch the beloved kinsman or friend on the other side.
When he felt her gaze, his hand would stealthily drop and he would begin talking about something else. Ailsa always made believe she hadn't noticed what he was doing, but she could see for just those few fleeting moments the unspoken desperation living deep in his eyes. She kept praying the work they were doing would somehow help him find some peace. How necessary they were to that end, she just didn't know.
Living in an age where electronic communication was an everyday occurrence, it didn't take long before it was decided they would record the visions in the Shimmer on videotape. They would then have a 24-hour record that could be rewound or slowed down to help decipher what was going on in the various scenes. Whole sequences could be pieced together then. However, much to their great disappointment, it was impossible. As they replayed the first tape, it was obvious the camera had only recorded a constant blinding white light. They found it was the same with the second and third tapes as well.
After checking the video camera and finding it was functioning normally, Ailsa suggested trying a digital camera. Regrettably, the results were the same. It seemed modern technology was useless. The Shimmer wasn't going to allow its images to be recorded. Resigned to doing their research the "old fashioned way," they began to work in shifts. The only pieces of modern equipment they were able to use were her father's small hand-held tape recorder and the computer.
Occasionally during one of her shifts, Ailsa would pause as she wrote down some bit of information. It still felt so strange. Was she actually writing about another world? All her training had prepared her to work with the past of this world. Now, she was trying to make sense of a place known only to three people. It was going to be a big job, and as much as she would have loved to have Kyle take part in it, she knew that it was a Pandora's Box she just couldn't open.
Besides, poor Kyle was busy fighting some unexpected red tape that was hindering his departure to Turkey. He was clueless as to when he would be able to leave. So as far as he was concerned, she was busy working on her Masters thesis with the help of the extensive library at Egla Tir. Ailsa knew it was important he believed that tiny lie.
On the other hand, Ewan thanked God that he had all this work to occupy his mind. He hadn't talked to Patrice since she called days ago. He tried to focus on other things because he knew decisions would have to be made soon. He just couldn't bring himself to think about the inevitable outcome. Somehow 25 years had to count for something. Maybe time would let them both see things differently. He hoped with all his heart that they would be seeing the same future.
In the meantime, he found working with Ailsa a comfort. Sharing Maedhros' secrets made them even closer. They were allies; explorers in a great journey of discovery and it gave him great joy. She was now a colleague, someone who understood his work and was more than willing to be part of it. On Ailsa's part, she no longer wondered about her future. It would always be tied to Egla Tir…and, of course, Maedhros.
They worked hard together, but they had their moments of fun. Ailsa's only regret was that Maedhros still seemed to hesitate joining in. As first, she thought he just misunderstood their sense of humor. But later, she could actually see him purposely stepping back as he tried to raise that stupid wall of his. What could he be so afraid of?
Maedhros watched the interplay between Ewan and Ailsa with mixed pleasure. There was something very warm and enchanting about the way they enjoyed each other's company. His mouth curled into an unconscious smile as he remembered the good natured joking he and his brothers shared before the Oath changed everything. His smile melted away and he quickly tried to bury his thoughts again.
He continued to watch as Ewan teased Ailsa about something or other. Ailsa feigned being insulted and teased him back. The two broke into silly laughter. Maedhros was touched by the simple happiness they shared. He could feel their happiness wash over him and try to take hold. It made him pause. What magic did they use to inch their way into his heart so quickly? Making him want to stop time as he tried to protect them from the destiny they would have to face. The one fate every heir of Egla Tir shared. How could he possibly bear losing them to the inevitable? He recoiled from such thoughts, the torment of these feelings only reinforced the certainty that he would not be able to endure it, and that he did not want to.
As each scroll and tome was inspected, they found many of the stories Maedhros told them had a very familiar ring. Ewan was most intrigued by the legends that resembled so many of the tales from our history. Even some of the fairy tales they found took on a different meaning as they recognized elements from Maedhros' world.
Ewan started to think there was definitely something connecting them. He began to roam through various websites and aggressively researched the books at his disposal. He even dug up some old files of his and reviewed them. Eventually, he began to formulate a theory that seemed to him at first…impossible. But over the years, he had come to appreciate that the impossible was never meant to be unknowable.
So late one afternoon, as he sat behind the desk in the Archives paging through his notes, an audience of two gathered to hear him out. Maedhros leaned against the edge of the desk patiently expecting some new discovery or other. While Ailsa stood by the stairs her arms folded across her chest as she stared at her shoes wondering when she'd be able to return to the Shimmer.
Nervously looking at his various written comments and well executed graphs, Ewan tried to decide where to begin. He finally stopped shuffling his papers and looked up. "Now, bear with me for a moment." He looked directly at Ailsa. "Try to suspend everything you've been taught about our history." Ailsa smiled indulgently, and gave him a slight nod.
"Maedhros told us that many of our legends and tales are similar to events in his world. I originally thought that civilizations just shared basic tales because of the types of stories they were. A legend telling of ancient Vikings destroying a foul 'fireworm' becomes an English knight slaying a dragon, and then a German hero slaying the same type of creature in the dark forests of the Schwartzwald hundreds of years later. Since we've been watching the Shimmer, I've wondered if these similarities are really just coincidences. Or are these legends the true history of events much older than we know."
Ailsa couldn't move her attention was focused on her father as he spoke. Ewan cleared his throat.
"For some time now, I've had a nagging question running through my mind. How could these accounts of Maedhros' people become part of our own legends and histories? As far as we know, Maedhros has been the only person from Middle-earth to travel to our world." He paused as his eyes met theirs. "What if it's not a coincidence?" Ailsa glanced over at Maedhros; his face had darkened into a scowl, but his eyes were riveted to Ewan's face.
"Then I started to really look at the pieces of the puzzle. Several years ago, I did some research into saga-based cultures and I discovered a legend they all shared. I did more checking and found this legend seems to thread its way through many other cultures as well. What came up again and again was the same basic story of an ancient civilization that covered our world ages before recorded history. It seemed that long before humans were truly civilized, a race of enlightened beings covered the Earth. This civilization had elements of great power, its people nurtured a vast knowledge of the natural world, and in many cases, there was magic involved. Their time came and then, for whatever reason, the people disappeared, fading into legend leaving only hints of their existence."
Ailsa shook her head slightly as she walked over to the desk and began to skim her father's notes. After a moment, she stared back at him in disbelief. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
A smile inched its way across Ewan's lips. "Why not? What if all those legends of previous civilizations are true?" Ewan looked at Maedhros and his smile deepened. "It could be possible." Ewan took a breath. "Go to any book store and you'll find shelves full of books about lost civilizations, lost continents, even lost periods of time. What if the historical timeline we've been told as fact, is actually wrong? Our history could have began thousands of millennia beforewe think it did?"
Ewan's face broke into a wider smile. "Maedhros told us that his people returned to Aman. What if the images in the Shimmer showing us those ships leaving Middle-earth are more than just a great migration? Yes, the Elves left Middle-earth, but left it in the hands of another race? This lost civilization is not a myth, or legend? Just simply a time we have forgotten."
Ailsa eyes brightened as she tried to comprehend the possibilities, but as Maedhros listened, a nauseating ache began to grow deep in his stomach. He stared at the floor not wanting to believe what he was hearing. This can not be! Maedhros shut his eyes as he tried to will himself to a quieter mind.
"Why must we believe we're dealing with two separate worlds? What if long before this place was called Earth, it was called Middle-earth?" Ewan's grey eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Maedhros, what if your banishment is not to another world, but just a journey of time?"
Weeks ago, Ailsa would have scoffed at such an idea, but lately her understanding of many things was different. How much more would their world become having such a long ago past to remember. Why not? She turned to Maedhros and excitedly took his arm. "That would mean…" Her words fell away as she saw his pale face. He opened his eyes and she could see deep sorrow flickering in their depths; his body seemed to tremble.
"Maedhros?" Ailsa began to feel anxious.
Maedhros stood up and removed his arm from her grasp. He walked to the stairs, stopped and gripped the railing. Ailsa could see he held the railing so tightly the knuckles of his hand had grown white. Taking several unsteady breaths, he tried to control himself. Why do they not understand? Are they so blind, they can not see what this really means?
Ewan looked at Maedhros; his apprehension grew as he realized something was definitely wrong. "Maedhros, doesn't it make sense?" He quickly glanced at Ailsa who looked as concerned as he was. Slowly, Maedhros turned, and stared openly at them. His face was like a mask.
"The only sense I have is the absolute certainty that the Valar are more cruel than I ever imagined." Each word he spoke echoed with black despair. He turned, and slowly climbed the stairs.
Once Maedhros had disappeared above, Ewan blew out a long sigh. "Well, I don't understand. I thought he would be pleased to know how much more all of this is. I mean, people alive today could very well be the descendents of this Second Born he's told us about." Ewan's brows drew together as he tried to fathom what he'd done to affect Maedhros so. "I feel as if…as if I've…offended or even hurt him in some way."
Ailsa's attention was drawn away from the empty stairwell as she heard the uncertainty in her father's voice. As he stood behind the desk, she could see the guilt he was feeling in his very posture. "You didn't do anything wrong, dad. I think your theory has just surprised him that's all." But she was beginning to piece together what it all really meant to Maedhros. "Look, I'm going to go find him."
"Are you sure he'd appreciate your company at this precise moment?" Ewan couldn't deny the feeling their help might be useless right now.
"I don't want to be company." She corrected him. "I just can't let him be alone."
Ewan lifted his file of research remembering how pleased he was with himself a few minutes ago. Shaking his head, he slammed the file back on the desktop in frustration, startling his daughter. He looked up at her. "You needn't go to him, Ailsa," he said.
= = = = = = =
He knew where he had to go and quickly made his way past the back of the house, down the garden steps and into the woods. The sun moved slowly over the treetops on its way to the coming sunset. Thin shadows of tree branches crisscrossed over the path making a patchwork design on the fallen leaves. The unusual silence within the wood resonated with the self-reproach he felt. Fool! What a great fool! He cursed at himself.Even in the sunlight, the surrounding air felt chilled. Coming out of the trees, he stopped abruptly on the rock ledge. Very near the edge of the cliff, Maedhros stood like a statue cut from the surrounding stone, his face towards the sea. Ewan's stomach lurched as he wondered how he was going to be able to face him?
The wind rushed past Maedhros' rigid body; his dark auburn hair roughly flew about his head in rebellious tendrils. Ewan took a few tentative steps towards him; still not certain this was the wisest thing to be doing. As he reached Maedhros' side, he could actually feel the misery emanating from the Elf. Bringing the back of his hand up to his mouth, he coughed unconvincingly. Although the wind beat against him, he tried to stand motionless as he waited for Maedhros to notice him.
Without turning, Maedhros' deep voice rose above the wind and pounding surf. "I know you are there, Ewan." His voice sounded steady, but Ewan knew better.
Maedhros stared dry-eyed at the seascape before him. The knowledge that the Blessed Realm actually lay silently beyond the horizon burned deep into his heart. Secreted away, it was hidden from his eyes in its cloak of mist and shadow. How many times over the long years had he stood in this very spot staring into the West dreaming of his world, remembering his home? Missing it with his whole being even as the pale gulls floating on the wind echoed the very call of its bright shores. The call that ran through his veins at times like flame. His silver grey eyes scanned in vain the bank of clouds lying just above the water. The waves below the cliff beat their rhythm onto the shore. Murderer…Kinslayer…Banished… Forever!
Ewan watched Maedhros as he struggled with this new revelation. He wished there were some way he could take it all back. Ailsa had told him how much Maedhros suffered as he bore the guilt of what he and the family had done. Only now did he realize the scope of Maedhros' punishment. Ewan hated being the cause of any more pain to this already overburdened soul. Especially when he had received only respect and unconditional acceptance from him. Right now, the feeling of uselessness was what he hated most of all.
Finally, Ewan couldn't stand it any longer. "Maedhros, I'm really sorry for anything I said that upset you." He tried to smile, but his remorse held the expression in check. "It's only a theory you know, and I've been proven wrong before." Ewan felt his cheeks flush with his admission. "Listen, I normally can't even get my own colleagues to agree with me."
Maedhros raised his hand. "I will not allow you to belittle yourself in an attempt to comfort me." He turned and looked into Ewan's guilt-filled eyes. His own eyes softened. "You should be proud of yourself, Ewan. You have found the truth for me at last."
Ewan felt worse hearing Maedhros praise him. "Well, I could still be wrong."
Silently, Maedhros turned his attention back to the sea. The sun had begun to broadly paint the sky with an apricot colored light. The bank of clouds now shone with the many threads of pale pink and gold reflecting within its depths. Time stood still as the two figures continued their silent vigil. After a while, Maedhros let out a low sigh, and his shoulders fell slightly.
"I had resigned myself to my punishment long ago. Truly, it is more than just." He seemed to speak more to himself than to Ewan, but every word dripped with such bitterness. "I found a kind of solace knowing that my world was safe. The shimmer showed me how life continued, despite what my family had done. But to find Middle-earth no longer exists...that it went on and now is…gone…forever." His last few words were hardly above a whisper.
His hand rose and gestured toward the horizon. "That Aman is out there now, but will always be beyond my reach." His fingers slowly curled into a fist as he lowered it to his side. "It is a blow I was unprepared for." He closed his eyes as he tried to control the cry of anguish that lingered in his chest.
"The Shimmer shows us nothing that is real, Ewan. Like the reflection on a pool, no more than the play of light on the surface of the water. There is nothing to go back to." The dead calm in his voice was a little frightening.
"We can't be sure of that, Maedhros." Ewan felt awful, he realized Maedhros had harbored the tiniest sliver of hope that he would be able to return to his world one day. Now he had ripped that hope from him with his stupid theory.
Maedhros heard the concern in Ewan's voice. He steeled himself and forced himself to face the troubled man. He placed his hand on Ewan's shoulder. "It is as it should be, Ewan." Maedhros gently shook his head. "After all this time, I finally have the proof that forgiveness is not to be mine." There was a catch in his voice. "That I belong nowhere." His eyes brimmed with unshed tears.
As the words left Maedhros' lips, Ewan frantically wished he could stop them some how. "That's not true," he insisted. "You belong to Egla Tir. You belong to the land and its people." Reaching up, he put a reassuring hand on Maedhros' shoulder. "You belong with us…with your family. Ailsa and I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you." His eyes grew more determined as he spoke. "We can help you find your peace, Maedhros. I promise."
Maedhros smiled as he felt Ewan's words rush to fill a hallow place deep inside him; a place that had been empty far too long. He could see within Ewan's offer of help that he actually cared what happened to him. Maedhros saw it in the concern coming from this man who's hand rested so awkwardly on his shoulder. Not since his brothers had he felt this way. Ewan was offering him something that went beyond help. He offered him the comfort of family and the love that went with it. As he had welcomed Ailsa's affection, he now welcomed Ewan's with his whole heart.
Drawing Ewan closer, he gently brought their foreheads together. Maedhros looked into clear grey eyes that were very much like his own. "Thank you, toron nin."
Ewan was startled as Maedhros touched his forehead to his. He could feel the deep emotion in Maedhros' words. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat as he gently stepped back. "You're welcome." He said and looked clumsily at the ground for a moment. He then looked at Maedhros. "Well, I…I guess I should get back." A few more moments ticked by. He raised his hand and almost touched Maedhros arm again, but put it into his jacket pocket instead. Ewan's mouth twisted into a half-smile. "You'll see, everything will be all right." Without another word, he turned and walked back toward the trees.
Maedhros' smile deepened as he watched Ewan leave. Out of the madness of this new reality, he had found his family once again. No longer would he have to accept the role of silent watcher or be considered as something only to be tolerated. Over the years, many of the heirs regarded him as nothing more than an unpleasant secret…something to be avoided. One or two had offered friendship, but no more. Others felt it was their duty to remind him he was an unnatural participant in their lives.
Many of the recent heirs had only looked upon him as a source of income. He was there to provide them with a lifestyle that kept them away from Egla Tir and as far away from him as possible. These years had left him questioning his motives as he continued to search for each new heir. Each generation proving again and again, they had no sense of who they were which only increased his loneliness. But Ewan and Ailsa were different; he thanked Eru for that.
Their regard for him was equal to the feelings he returned. Whatever the outcome…regardless of their future, his family would endure. I have felt the warmth of my family's love, and I will not be without it again. Maedhros sat staring defiantly into the West. Ewan was right, through his family he could find the promise of peace. He closed his eyes and prayed; he prayed hard that just this once, time might be his friend.
= = = = = = =
The peasant farmers who worked the Bramford lands began to spread tales of the ghost who wondered in the nearby forests. Sometimes, as they made their way to the fields, they would see him as he walked shrouded within the early morning fog. However, there seemed to be conflicting descriptions of this ghost. One time it was said that it was Richard Bramford, another time it was his younger brother Geoffrey.
Finally these stories made their way to their mistress, and they broke her heart anew. Why did others see the ghosts of her dead sons? Why did they not come to their mother? But some of the stories also brought concern to the Mistress of Bramford Castle. One or two of the sightings implied that sometimes the ghost was not alone. During these times, the Lady Elizabeth had been seen walking with the ghost.
Today, in the bright sunlight, Margaret recognized the tunic of her eldest son on the body of the stranger. Today, the "ghost" was Richard. She could also guess where he had gotten the clothes. Anger filled her mind; this was a man who has now put her daughter's honor and safety at risk. His attire would not save him or gift any mercy from her.Maedhros knew it would have been too easy to fight his way through the small group of soldiers, and it would have accomplished nothing. He could see the fear in their eyes as they surrounded him. Even in clothing familiar to them, Maedhros was still an imposing figure. Any sudden move could prove fatal to them. Besides, he would find fighting difficult as Elizabeth now stood in front of him defiantly daring any of the men to try something. He would not put her in harm's way.
The tension was steadily building, Maedhros told Elizabeth to go to her mother, but she declined as she was determined to stay. Lady Margaret watched and listened to the exchange between her daughter and the stranger. The intriguing part of their conversation was they were speaking in a language she had never heard before and did not know her daughter spoke. Many minutes passed and the strain only increased. She finally put a stop to the stalemate, telling the soldiers to stand down. She too, was afraid Elizabeth might be injured if a fight ensued. Reluctantly, they put away their swords and took a few steps back from the duo, but they still rested their hands on the pommels of their weapons.
Lady Margaret approached the stranger. She had originally thought her daughter had been fooled by one of the many beggars wandering the countryside into letting him hide in the goddess cave. But she could see this was no beggar. This was a seasoned warrior fore he still included the group of soldiers in his gaze as he stood silently watching her advance. There was also an unquestionable air of command about him and a nobility in his handsome face. She, however, was definitely no fool, and although he was quite impressive, she did not want to trust him. He could still be a threat.
She glanced down at her daughter. Although Elizabeth was ready to take on the Bramford soldiers to protect Maedhros, her resolve abandoned her as her mother applied a very stern, but familiar look in her direction. Elizabeth quickly stepped out of her mother's way moving to Maedhros' side.
Without her eyes leaving his face, Lady Margaret asked her daughter. "Elizabeth! Tell me, does he speak English?"
"Yes I do, my lady. Your daughter has taught me well." Maedhros answered before the frightened girl could speak.
His impertinent reply brought a smile to her lips. The heavy accent to the well-spoken words only increased her curiosity. "Then you can easily tell me who you are and what you are doing on my lands?"
Maedhros hesitated for a moment as he tried to figure out how much he should say. Chafing slightly under Lady Margaret's powerful gaze, he decided the truth was his only recourse. "I am Maedhros, son of Feanor. I am a Noldorin nobleman seeking refuge in your world and on your lands." Maedhros brought his arm up to his chest, and gave her a slight bow. His face a mask of composed splendor.
"I see." Lady Margaret was skeptical. She knew she needed to quickly regain control of the situation. "I am Lady Bramford, and I will be the one to decide whether you can take refuge on my lands or not." Her dark stare tried to see past the unflinching shining grey of Maedhros' eyes.
Elizabeth tugged at Maedhros' sleeve. He bent slightly giving them the illusion of privacy. Finding her voice, she whispered, "Maedhros, you must show my mother the Shimmer."
Just then, as if on cue, a slight breeze took the opportunity to lift Maedhros' hair briefly. The others were too far away to see, but Lady Bramford was able to observe the mythical curve of his ear. She blinked a few times as she tried to comprehend what she was seeing. It seemed what her daughter told her was true. "I think sir, we need to talk about some of the things my daughter has told me."
With that, she indicated to the soldiers and her maidservant she wanted them to stay outside while Maedhros, Elizabeth, and she went into the passage. When the captain of the soldiers expressed his concern, he got a quick rebuke. "I will hear no argument. Stay here!" The soldier recognized the threat and quickly obeyed. With one swift movement and before the other soldiers could react, Maedhros retrieved his sword from the ground. He offered it, handle first, to the bewildered soldier as a gesture of his honorable intentions. The startled soldier took the sword and watched as the three entered the opening. His eyes continued to watch the blackness within the opening for many minutes. The other soldiers surrounded him as they began to admire the strange blade.
= = = = = = =
It became a custom for Maedhros and Ailsa to take walks together after dinner. It seemed quite natural for them to share these walks in all kinds of weather. Ewan was always ready to take over for one of them down in the Archives or watching the Shimmer. His obsession with the Shimmer had little to do with strolls or conversations.
Some evenings they would walk through the estate woodlands other evenings, they made their way again to the outdoor theater. Most times they would walk closer to home and the cliff on the estate. It was hard for Maedhros during the walks near the cliffs. He could no longer bring himself to stare out to sea as easily as he once did. His reality had been turned upside-down, and he was dealing with the new truth of his situation as best he could. Ewan and Ailsa's support was a healing balm. Once again he was allowed helping hands to bring him back into the light. For all his clever plans to keep them at arms length, they were now very much a part of him. He realized he had been foolish to think they would be otherwise.
So they walked and he took pleasure in her company as they talked about many things. Maedhros told her of happier times during his youth and the various individuals that made up his world in Middle-earth. She would tell him about Berkeley, about her friends and the rest of her mother's family. She even told him about Kyle. The term boyfriend, although not foreign to him, still seemed a strange custom.
One evening as they sat on the stone seats of the outdoor theatre, he asked her, "Tell me Ailsa, is this Kyle the one for whom your heart sings?"
Ailsa smiled as she tried listening to her heart, wishing she could truly hear something. She finally admitted awkwardly, "I honestly don't know." She smiled sheepishly. "What's it supposed to sound like?"
Maedhros could feel her discomfort. Ailsa saw that familiar "almost" smile of his creeping into the corners of his mouth. She had seen this look so many times before as she wondered what he was thinking. She still didn't know what it meant, but this time, there was a glint of happiness in his eyes.
= = = = = = =
After the mixture of shock and fear had subsided, she was able to stand before the glowing mist without wanting to run away. It took only a few moments for Lady Margaret to understand completely what was happening within the vapor. Strange unholy creatures were driving captives before them. All the prisoners seemed to have ears like the being who stood quietly at her side. Elizabeth said he was a nobleman from an Elvish realm. Were those creatures the reason he was here? Maedhros was silent and did not offer any explanations.
She could feel her courage rising. "Is it true you are an Elf, sir?" She asked the question, but found it hard to concentrate as her own mother's stories raced through her mind.
"My lady, it is true I am an Elf. I come from the world depicted in this Shimmer."
Lady Margaret's attention went back to the strange phenomenon over the pool. The previous scene in the mist seemed to dissolve away and a new vision appeared. An incredibly handsome adult male was patiently teaching a young boy how to use a bow. The male was very tall and slender with long silver blond hair that fell almost to his waist. The boy with his golden mane of long bright hair seemed to be the right age for instruction. Both adult and child were Elves if their ears and strange attire were to be believed. The young Elf listened intently and watched with his bright blue eyes as his instructor taught by example. With a fluid movement of his arm, he nocked his arrow, pulled and released it. The arrow hit the target dead center. When it was the boy's turn, the youngster drew his bow as he had seen the master archer do and let loose the arrow. He was very pleased when his arrow found its mark close to the other arrow.
Margaret smiled wistfully as she remembered her own sons and how excited they had been when they first took up the bow. How proud they were when they successfully scored a hit. Within a heartbeat, her face fell suddenly, and she quickly looked into the pool, unable to keep watching the scene. The deaths of her sons left a dark painful emptiness surrounding heart, but even their loss could not overshadow the death of their father. She could not help wondering at that moment what he would have thought of all this.
Elizabeth decided it was time to show her mother the Silmaril. After cautioning her, she opened the pouch. The air between them exploded in shafts of brilliant light. After Lady Margaret's eyes became accustomed to the display shining from the pouch, she could see the round jewel at the bottom. Her eyes widened at the splendor she saw within it. How could it be that so many colors danced so easily within it? Never in all her life had she ever witnessed such a magical thing. Her eyes quickly moved back to the glowing mist above the pool. Well, it was the second most magical thing she had ever seen. She began to feel a little unsteady. Maedhros came up from behind and gently led her to a chair.
Sitting quietly, she tried to reason out what she was going to do. She could not get over the marvels she had just witnessed, but there was an air of remembrance about them. When she was very young her mother told her stories of how their family had always been blessed by the goddess living in this cave. How men in the far distant past, did great deeds in the goddess' honor as they fought to keep the light in their world. Strange and wonderful beings would help them on these adventures. Always fighting to keep the darkness at bay. The women of the family were the ones who kept these stories alive passing them from mother to daughter. In her turn, she had taught these tales to Elizabeth.
Gazing into the mist and its moving light, all the tales suddenly rang more true than ever before. Her daughter had befriended a being who was most likely taking refuge from the things she had seen in the magic vapors. The "Shimmer" he had called it…and the jewel he had called a Silmaril? Never could she have imagined such treasures.
Elizabeth had told her how Maedhros and his family had fought many battles as they tried to retrieve the great jewels from the murderous thief who stole them. How by doing so, they had made their gods angry and he was banished to their world. She said he struggled to adjust to his new world, but his guilt over the battles for the jewels hung on him at times like a shroud. "So it is true," she murmured.
Whether or not he was a lord from some unknown fairy kingdom, she needed more time to figure out what Maedhros' arrival meant. The one thing she knew was that Maedhros had lived on her lands for several years without any ill will from him. Other than the peasants' ghost stories, he had harmed no one. Her daughter had been safe in his presence, and if he did indeed needed refuge from his world, then she as Lady of this land would be less than kind to deny him sanctuary. Maybe the goddess had not abandoned the cave after all.
Maedhros had allowed Elizabeth's mother a moment to consider all she had seen and been told. Children in their innocence of the world could readily accept the mystical, adults needed more time. He looked at Elizabeth as they waited to hear her mother's mind. His only fear was that Lady Margaret would order him off her lands and he would never be able to see Elizabeth again. The possibility made his heart feel suddenly encased in lead.
"I must return to my men," Lady Margaret announced. She looked into her daughter's anxious eyes. "Come Elizabeth, I have seen all I need to see." Elizabeth hesitated as she waited for her mother to say more. When she didn't, Elizabeth's eyes dropped to the floor. In her young mind, Maedhros was doomed.
"Lord Maedhros, would you be kind enough to escort us back through the passage." She smiled at the puzzled Maedhros.
Taking her daughter's hand, Lady Margaret turned into the passage, Maedhros followed behind. The sunlight filled opening beckoned to them. Stopping a few feet from the exit, Lady Margaret turned and faced the Elf. "I know not what your purpose is in our world. Nor what fate your gods have in store for you. I will not be the one to refuse you sanctuary. For now, you may continue to make this cave your home."
Elizabeth's face lit up as she heard her mother's words. Maedhros was not doomed!
Maedhros tried to hide the relief that washed over him. He bowed, "Your generous mercy, my lady, is gratefully accepted." His silver eyes looked up into the face of his new protector.
"But hear me, lord. Should I find your conduct in any way less than what I require, you will find yourself residing in a place quite different. The dungeons of Bramford Castle are not a refuge men in the past have found to their liking."
Maedhros smiled as he bowed to the lady once more. She was formidable enough to take on anyone. He only hoped that one day he would be worthy enough for her to offer him her friendship.
Nearly an hour had passed before those outside the cave began the process of deciding when it would be prudent to check on their mistress. Before it was necessary to choose someone, Lady Bramford came out of the opening with her daughter in tow. The stranger stepped out from the darkness behind them
"Let us go to our horses, we will return to the castle." Lady Margaret commanded.
"But my lady, what about the stranger?" The elder servant asked anxiously.
"Lord Maedhros will be allowed to remain on our lands." Stone faced, she looked at her soldiers. "Unmolested." The soldiers nodded to their lady. She smiled down at her daughter. "Come, it grows late. We must return home."
The soldier holding Maedhros' marvelous sword held it out to him grip first. The strange lord smiled at him as he retrieved his weapon and returned it to its empty scabbard. Standing solemnly on the hilltop, he watched the entire party move toward the woods and their waiting horses. His eyes settled on Elizabeth's figure, and for the first time he noticed that she was almost as tall as her mother. She stopped, turned suddenly and waved her hand to him. Maedhros' own arm came up and he returned the temporary gesture of good-bye. The warmth of her joyous smile filled his Elven eyes and he felt a renewed affection for his little bird.
= = = = = = =
Ailsa readily took her turn with the Shimmer. It was so exciting to watch the visions now. A few days ago, the images had suddenly slowed down and lengthened in duration. The fact the segments were growing longer affected each one of the watchers differently. Ailsa was just plain excited, Maedhros knew it was significant, but was unable to reason why so he was unable to feel happy about it. Ewan surmised that the slowing down could be a natural occurrence. Ailsa couldn't suppress a smile when her father used the word "Sunspots." In fact, he had announced at dinner one night that he had calculated that the visions were now averaging 18.6 minutes per sequence.
All Ailsa knew was that since the visions had slowed down, it was much easier to get details of clothing and the action playing out in them. Sometimes, however, Ailsa found herself slightly bored if a sequence seemed to have little going on. There was just so much one could write about an empty meadow.
It was at these times, she would find herself moving to the small chest on the rock shelf. Since the first night she watched the Silmaril as it lay on the table, she found herself wanting to look at it whenever she could. She reasoned that if she was careful, one quick look every now and then couldn't possibly hurt…could it?
She loved to hold the opened pouch and look at the Silmaril as the magical light danced across her face. She never tired of its bright beauty. It made her so happy. There was a sadness though…she was mortal and couldn't hold it in her naked hand. How she longed to feel the hardness of the jewel in her fingers. Although it burned when she touched it, she just knew it would feel cool to the touch in other hands. Sometimes she wondered why her father didn't find it as appealing as she did. When she tried to bring it up, he seemed only mildly interested. Couldn't he see how special it was?
It was during one of these "quick looks" that Maedhros and her father caught her. They had come into the room before she was aware of them and stared at her disapprovingly. She tried to act nonchalantly about being discovered with the Silmaril, but she still put the pouch back in the chest. She didn't know why their disapproval made her feel so guilty, and she resented the fact that they made her feel that way. "I was just looking," she said as she lifted her chin defiantly.
They continued to look at her, but didn't speak. Ailsa decided that she had other things that needed attending to. "I have some things to do up in the library," she said. No one said anything as she left the room. What she didn't know was after he heard her on the stairs, Maedhros turned to her father with a deep frown on his face. "I am concerned that Ailsa is becoming a little too attached to the Silmaril." He told Ewan. "I have seen that look before on other faces."
Ewan also frowned for a moment. "I don't think we have anything to worry about, Maedhros. Ailsa is level headed enough to realize the danger of becoming too possessive. Besides, she'll be going back to Berkeley eventually, and she can't very well take it with her…can she?" He felt confident that his daughter was just fine.
Maedhros couldn't be so sure, but something Ewan said left him feeling as if he had been struck across the face. Ailsa leaving? It was something that he had not considered. He excused himself and left Ewan with the Shimmer.
That afternoon as Ailsa and he walked through the woods behind the manor, Maedhros searched his mind for the words that would help him bring up the subjects of the Silmaril and Ailsa's leaving. He watched Ailsa as she walked ahead of him touching the various tree trunks, and almost dancing around others. His eyes softened, she was such a silent child of the forest, unaware that her dancing and the touching of the trees were in response to their ancient song. Maedhros and his people knew this song and he was glad the soul of one of his children was able to hear it as well. Ailsa turned and smiled at him, the simple beauty of her face reflected the warm glow of the sunlight. He found he could not continue to look at her, he feared their bond might reveal his apprehension. She quickly turned and walked on. He felt a new sadness begin to grow within him. A thought began to echo in his mind. She can not go…not yet.
Ailsa knew something was on Maedhros' mind. He was much too preoccupied, even for him. She had caught him watching her as they walked through the woods, but he averted his gaze when their eyes met. Whatever it was, it was troubling him a great deal. Well, she would find out what it was. There weren't any secrets between them now and she wasn't about to allow any to start.
As always she followed him assuming they were on their way to the cliff. After a bit, however, they made a turn. At first she wondered what their new destination was, but as she looked around a familiar feeling consumed her. Although the forest was filled with the golden light of the late afternoon sun, she couldn't help feeling she had come this way before.
It had been night then, and the glorious full moon enveloped the entire forest in its blue radiance. She almost wished Maedhros would begin to sing as he had that night. She would love to hear him in this light. Just then he turned and looked at her. She could see it in his face; she smiled at him as her eyes narrowed. You know I followed you that night! With a slight smile on his lips, he turned again and resumed his pace. Ailsa knew where they were going.
Maedhros waited for Ailsa to enter the clearing. She stood within the circling trees remembering the way the clearing looked that night. How different it seemed now. As if all the magic she had experienced then only waited for the full moon to rise again.
The cold blue light had made it a mystical place, where an enchanted singer sang out his grief bathed in the white light of the reflecting pool. The surrounding trees were in varied hues of darkest blue-black to silvery grey. The emotion of Maedhros' songs the only warmth within the circle. With that thought, Ailsa stepped into the clearing.
The clearing had now transformed itself into a palette containing the many colors of Fall. The inviting warmth of reds, yellows, and oranges filled the space. Even the pale bench and the large flat stones forming the lip of the pool seemed a warmer shade of that color as it contrasted against the still green grass. The reflecting pool was different also. The cold still glass from that night now had ripples of liquid golden sunlight reflecting off its moving surface. She wanted to lay on the grass arms behind her head, her eyes tracking the various clouds as they sailed by in the ocean blue sky above.
Maedhros walked with her to the bench and sat down. Ailsa let a few minutes pass before she looked at him and asked, "Okay, what's on your mind?" He lowered his eyes, smiling to himself. He was beginning to think she could read his mind after all. He swallowed and looked into her inquiring eyes. "Are you leaving us?" He quietly asked. Ailsa was surprised by his question.
"I hadn't planned on going anywhere." She replied. She couldn't understand what he meant.
"Ewan mentioned that you would eventually want to move back to Berkeley and resume your studies. I know that you have reached your majority and you are just beginning your life. You should enjoy everything that it has to offer." He paused feeling awkward as he searched her face. "I want you to have a full life, Ailsa, but one that would, I hope, include Egla Tir…from time to time."
Suddenly, she understood what he meant and she smiled back at him. "Do you actually think I could leave Egla Tir and forget about it…or you?" She shook her head and slipped her arm through his, "Don't worry Maedhros, I have no immediate plans of leaving, so you're stuck with me."
Feeling very pleased, he patted her arm with his hand. "That is good to hear…for I am glad to be 'stuck' with you." His silver eyes crinkled as he smiled back at her. Relief rushed through him; he knew he had to speak to Ailsa about the Silmaril, but he decided to put it off for now.
= = = = = = =
Maedhros began to hope he was wrong about his concern for Ailsa and the Silmaril, but he knew better. He knew better the moment he walked into the cave room the next day and found her holding it in a handkerchief-covered hand. Her face aglow with the light as she watched it with an all consuming stare. "Ailsa, what are you doing?" He asked loudly. Ailsa looked up at him, the spell of the Silmaril temporarily broken. "What?" She asked slowly.
He hesitated taking the Silmaril from her even with the handkerchief. Still remembering the burning agony his bare hand had experienced so long ago, he could not take the chance that the thin cloth would not protect him. "Ailsa, put the Silmaril back into the pouch." He ordered.
The cold command of his voice startled her. "I was just…" She began as she dropped the jewel into the leather pouch.
"I know what you just…" He said flatly and opened the chest. Once the Silmaril was in the pouch, Ailsa seemed more herself. "I wasn't doing anything wrong." She sounded like a child caught with a forbidden treat. "I…I thought I should get a complete description down of the Silmaril for the archives." Maedhros motioned toward the chest, and Ailsa obediently placed the pouch in it. He slammed the lid shut, making Ailsa jump. "Do you have any idea what you are doing?" There was anger in his voice as he spoke. "Do you?"
Ailsa was taken aback. She had never known Maedhros to be so angry before. She didn't understand why he was angry with her. She turned and walked to the table. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean." She picked up a scrap of paper and tried to read it.
"You know our family history and what the Silmaril means to us. It is not just a pretty shiny jewel to us." He was trying very hard to explain without letting his anger and fear take control. She didn't see the danger she was in, and he had to make her see before something terrible happened.
"I don't know what you're so upset about." The angry edge to her voice reflected her resentment of his interference. Why couldn't she touch the Silmaril, it was just as much hers as anyone's. She whirled around and pointed at Maedhros. "You just don't want anyone else to touch it. You want it all for yourself." Maedhros face paled as he heard her words. In an instant his face suddenly grew dark, angry grey eyes flashed at her.
"Do you hear yourself?" He shot the words out like steel arrows, every one hitting her heart. "Do you not know where this path leads? Have you heard nothing I have said?" He whirled away from her, his hand clutching the wrist where its mate once belonged. Grasping for his own composure, he let his head drop back, his dark red hair reflecting the lights of the Shimmer.
Closing his eyes to find a measure of calm, he blew out a long stream of air before speaking again. This time his voice was deathly quiet, his face still tilted up to the rock ceiling above them. "And would you wish Everlasting Darkness on yourself if you did not keep it from me, no matter what the cost?" He turned, his eyes no longer angry, but filled with urgent concern.
Suddenly, Ailsa realized what he meant. "Oh my God!" The horror of it made her shudder. Her eyes widened with fear as she glanced at the chest. "Maedhros, what's happening to me?" She felt panicked, and her body began to tremble. "I only felt great joy when I held it." Relief painted itself across his features at her response. Maedhros reached out and took hold of her arm. His eyes softened as he saw the terror in Ailsa's eyes. He wrapped his arms around her.
"All is well, tithen min." His hand softly stroked her hair. "It was never meant to be an object of evil. It wondrous glow fills everyone's heart differently. If you are aware, you can control your attraction to it." His voice was a caress to her jumbled nerves helping Ailsa to calm down. Maedhros released her. "There. Now that you know, you can fight against your desire for it." His face still showed concern; the fear was gone.
The moments passed and she came to comprehend the cold reality of what Maedhros was saying. "I had no idea," she said wistfully.
"Even your father has a weakness for the Silmaril. He is aware of it and works to control it. Perhaps we should find a less conspicuous place to store the chest." Maedhros suggested.
Ailsa brought her body up to her full height and squared her shoulders. "I don't think that will be necessary. As you said, if I'm aware of the attraction, I can control it." She now wanted to prove to Maedhros she could be in the same room as the Silmaril and not touch it. She walked over to the chest and placed her hand on the lid as if making sure it was tightly closed. She looked at Maedhros and asked, "How does my father do it? I've never seen him even open the chest."
Maedhros smiled and brought his fingers to his chin. "Your father has the outward facade of a man preoccupied with…things. But if you look deeper, you will find that he is a man who will always do what is right. He felt the pull of the Silmaril and has kept away from it."
"Well, that's my level headed father for you." She said with affection.
"That is amusing, Ailsa." Maedhros said as he walked to the doorway. "It is what he said of you." Ailsa's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she followed him out.
To be continued.
tithen aiwe = little bird
tithen min = little one
toron nin = my brother
