Chapter 16 – Family Conversations
Family is a blessing when you need a shoulder to cry on, or a swift kick in the backside.
Valinor
Fourth Age
They sat together on the floor. Maglor, with his knees drawn to his chin, Mahtan beside him, rubbing his grandson's back in small, circular motions. They did not speak, merely sat together in silence. Maglor's tears were spent. He had no idea how many he shed, but by the look of his grandfather's shirt, quite a few. His breathing was yet uneven as he rested with his head on his knees. He did not look at his grandfather. He couldn't. The shame was too great, for although Fëanor sired him, and he bore Finwë's name, it was Mahtan who had played the role of father to Maglor. Instead of facing Mahtan he stared at the door, imagining the whispers and sneers he would endure when the palace residents learned of this scene.
Mahtan followed the direction of his grandson's eyes and read Maglor's thoughts as if he had uttered them aloud. "She will not tell anyone," he said.
Maglor was startled by the sound of Mahtan's voice, but he recovered quickly. "How do you know?" he asked. This was probably the very thing she had been waiting for. What better revenge for the way he treated her, than to reveal what she had seen?
"If she tells no one you mistreat her," Mahtan replied, "she will not speak of this."
Maglor started to speak. To defend himself – or not – but Mahtan raised a hand to silence him.
"She said nothing to me," he said. "She did not have to. Her eyes told me all I needed to know."
Maglor should have known. He could tell by the look on her face when he departed that she was going to cry. She never broke down in front of him, though. She was too proud to let him see her cry and too strong to be defeated by words alone. Pride and strength. As far as Maglor was concerned, they were two of her less endearing qualities.
"Fingolfin cursed me with her," he muttered angrily.
Mahtan laughed at the sour face Maglor made. "I think you have that backwards, Makalaurë."
The sound of his former name made him cringe. "Maglor," he stated firmly, and in a whisper, added, "please."
"As you wish," Mahtan said, and then he looked Maglor straight in the eye. "I think you owe the child an apology."
Maglor laughed humorlessly. "You have no idea."
"You would be surprised," was Mahtan's reply. "The king has been watching you both closely."
"Has he?" Maglor's ignorance was feigned and his grandfather saw right through it.
"You know he has," Mahtan's voice was sharp. He would not allow Maglor to play games. Not with him.
Maglor sighed. He was well aware of the watchful eyes upon them. Indeed, he had hoped Eruanna's behavior would alert his uncle to trouble, and the elleth would be removed from his service. It did not happen. He cursed Eruanna silently for being so fine an actor. "I had hoped to change his mind … or hers."
"You came close," Mahtan said. "The king and his grandson were debating how much longer they would permit this to go on."
Maglor could not contain his surprise at his grandfather's words. "They know?" he asked. He had thought his efforts were in vain.
"They know you, Maglor," Mahtan answered. "You gave in too easily. Fingolfin suspected you would make life hard for the child so she would quit of her own accord. So they kept watch – and the strain of her working with you was beginning to show. They would not have allowed your ill treatment of her to continue for much longer."
Many thoughts cluttered Maglor's mind as he listened to his grandfather speak. Part of him was angry he had been waited out by a child. There was a time when he had been the patient one. He had met his match in patience with Eruanna. It was yet another thing he disliked about her.
Maglor pushed thoughts of his scribe from his mind and concentrated on his grandfather. Mahtan seemed to know quite a lot about the goings on in Tirion for an ellon who lived in the country. He eyed Mahtan warily, suspicious of his intentions for the first time. Was he here at Fingolfin's request? Was that the only reason Mahtan had come to see him? "You have spoken with my uncle at length, it would seem, and yet Fingolfin made no mention of your visit earlier."
"I told him I wanted to surprise you," he said.
"Why was that?" Maglor asked.
Mahtan heard well the suspicion in his grandson's voice. He laid a firm hand on his shoulder before he answered, "So you would not have the chance to hide from me."
Maglor said nothing in response, for there was nothing to say. A long time ago, Mahtan knew Maglor very well – and it appeared that in some respects he still did. Of all the elves in Arda there were only two he truly dreaded to face. Mahtan was one of them. And as for the other …
Maglor glanced at the letter his grandfather had carried. It lay forgotten on the floor. Almost forgotten, that is.
Mahtan followed his grandson's gaze. He picked up the letter and tucked it into his pocket. "I think we should continue this somewhere more comfortable," he said.
"I am in my old rooms," Maglor offered.
Mahtan nodded before climbing to his feet. He held out his hand to his grandson and when Maglor took it, the older ellon pulled him up. Then Mahtan threw an arm around his grandson's shoulder and led him to the door. "I don't know about you," he said to Maglor, "but I could use a drink."
Eruanna did not return to Maglor's office for several hours. Before she entered, she listened at the door for any sign of movement from within. When she thought it safe, she opened the door, only to find that Maglor and his grandfather were gone. A wave of relief washed over her. She moved swiftly to her desk and began organizing the files Maglor told her to complete. She had no idea what mood he would be in come sunrise, and she wished to give him no excuse to rip her to shreds. She worked all night without rest, but in the early hours, just before dawn, Eruanna rested her head in the crook of her arm. She closed her eyes for only a moment – and fell fast asleep.
That was how Maglor found her, asleep at her desk, her head cradled in her arms. There were orderly stacks of paper all around her and three incomplete contracts beneath her head. He watched her sleep for a long time. It had been awhile since he had witnessed this strange sight. Elrond and Elros had slept thus, with their eyes shut. He remembered. He also remembered how much they slept, compared to elves. It had worried him in the beginning. He had thought them ill or on the verge of fading. It was some time before he realized it was merely their natural state, their natural state – and hers. Eruanna had worked late the previous evening and all night last and she had finally collapsed from exhaustion. He wanted to be angry with her for complying with his unreasonable demands, but the only anger he felt was for himself.
Why have I done this?
There was no answer he could come up with to justify his actions. All he could do now was attempt to make things right. He laid a hand on Eruanna's shoulder and shook her gently. "Eruanna, wake up."
Eruanna bolted upward at the sound of his voice and rubbed her eyes. "What?"
Maglor withdrew his hand and watched the cloud lift from the elleth's eyes. "You fell asleep at your desk," he told her.
She looked down at the desktop. "The city … I have three more," she gathered the scattered forms and began to organize them into a neat pile, but Maglor reached down and pulled them gently from her hands.
"Go to bed," he said.
"What?" she looked up at him, unsure of what he had just said.
"I will complete the contracts," he said. "You need to rest. I will see you tomorrow morning."
Eruanna gaped at Maglor as if he had sprouted another head. "You are certain?" she asked at last.
"Yes," he replied but said no more. He merely walked across the room and sat at his desk.
Eruanna climbed to her feet and with a nod left Maglor's study for her rooms. She was still groggy as she navigated the palace halls and her only thought was of how wonderful her feather pillow would feel beneath her head.
Less than an hour before dinner a knock at Maglor's door drew his attention. He did not have to ask who it was. Fingolfin's knock was distinctive. "Come in," he called a second after his uncle opened the door.
The king stepped inside followed by his brother. Maglor groaned. It was never a good sign when Fingolfin brought reinforcements.
"Good evening, nephew," Fingolfin said with a smile. "I hope you fare well on this fine day."
"I fare well," he replied flatly.
"I am pleased to hear it," Fingolfin replied.
Finarfin's keen eyes scanned the room. "Where is your assistant?" he asked.
Maglor sighed. He knew this visit wasn't about him. "I gave her the day off," he replied.
"That was kind of you," Fingolfin responded as he sat himself on the corner of Maglor's desk.
"No," Maglor replied, "it wasn't." He did not look up at Fingolfin when he said this for he knew his uncle's choice of seating was an intentional display of authority.
"What do you mean?" Finarfin asked, surprised that Maglor would choose to ignore the opportunity to show how kind he was to Eruanna.
Maglor dropped the quill he had been holding and leaned back in his chair to face Finarfin. "It was not kind," he said, "because I was the reason she needed the day. I had her work two days and nights without rest until she could not keep her eyes open."
"You do not sound proud of this achievement," Finarfin replied.
Maglor breathed a tired sigh. "Should I be?" he asked.
"Of course not," Fingolfin interrupted and Maglor looked up at him for the first time. "So then, why did you do it?"
Maglor had no answer, instead he replied, "You could have asked before assigning her to assist me."
"Would you have accepted her assistance?" Fingolfin asked.
"Not likely," Maglor said.
"Then it was better we did not ask you," Finarfin quipped before he took a seat in the chair opposite Maglor.
Maglor's brow shot up at his younger uncle. "In on this, were you?"
Finarfin smiled. "It was his idea," he said, pointing to his brother, "but I helped."
Finarfin's attempt at humor failed for Maglor was not amused.
Fingolfin studied Maglor in silence. He could see in his nephew's face that something had changed, and though he did not know the details, he attributed it to Mahtan's visit. If only the old ellon had come to Tirion sooner!
Maglor felt Fingolfin's eyes upon him. He braced himself for the next round of ribbing.
Fingolfin sighed. "You never were one to ask for help when you needed it," he said.
Maglor said nothing, for his uncle was right.
The king fixed Maglor with a stern gaze. The time for games was over. Maglor needed to accept it – now. "Eruanna is very dear to a son of my house. I trust you will treat her respectfully from this point on."
"Elrond," Maglor whispered. And then he asked a question that had gnawed at him for many months. "Did he protest her assignment?" he asked Fingolfin.
Finarfin chuckled. "No," he said. "He recommended her."
"Did he?" Maglor asked, surprised that Elrond would place such trust in him after all that had passed between them.
"Her father was not very happy about it," Fingolfin added, interrupting Maglor's thoughts.
"I imagine not," Maglor replied. He and Lord Erestor had never been formally introduced, but Maglor remembered him well. He had caught Erestor's hateful gaze more than once as he walked the palace halls and had not forgotten the ellon's words to him on the ship.
Fingolfin, too, thought on Erestor. His reaction to the thought of his daughter working with Maglor had been volatile. "He raised his voice to me," Fingolfin said. "He told me I should not expect anyone to forgive you."
Maglor laughed, humorlessly. "A wise ellon," he said.
"I do not agree with him," Fingolfin said firmly.
Maglor shook his head at the king and sneered. "Your judgment has not always been commendable."
Fingolfin closed his eyes and breathed a tired sigh. He was about to say something more when a knock at the door drew his attention.
Maglor could not imagine who might be calling on him now, for Mahtan was at the market and the only other elves who might do so were with him now.
"Come," Maglor called.
Eruanna opened the door. She had heard muffled voices when she drew near but could not make them out and was surprised to see both the king and Prince Finarfin in Maglor's company.
She bowed respectfully to both ellyn before speaking. "I am sorry if I interrupted you," she said. "I can wait outside if you wish."
Fingolfin rose from his seat, waving her concern away. "There is no need, Eruanna. We were just leaving." Finarfin followed his brother's lead and both ellyn bid their farewells to Maglor before heading for the door.
Eruanna smiled as they passed and she closed the door behind them. It was something of a surreal experience for Eruanna – closing a door for the sons of Finwë. It struck her sometimes, at odd moments, how strange and incredible it was to live in the same halls as elves of so high renown.
"They are quite impressive," she mused aloud, her hands still clutching the door handle. "They live up to their reputations … what I've heard of them."
"They are great ellyn," Maglor said dryly. "They always were, but my father's shadow eclipsed us all."
Eruanna looked at Maglor then. He seemed calmer now, more subdued than he had been in months. And so she dared to ask, "Did it anger them?"
Maglor considered her question a moment before saying, "I don't believe so. They loved my father, but Fëanor could not find it in his heart to forgive them."
"Forgive them for what?" she asked.
Maglor shrugged. "For being born." He looked at Eruanna then, as if he only just realized she had arrived. "I owe you an apology," he said, "more than one."
Eruanna agreed heartily, but she did not think saying so would be the best response. "I do not want an apology," she said, "if the king forces you to give it."
"He does not," Maglor replied. And slowly, he gave voice to his thoughts. "I have been unkind to you. It was wrong and I … I am sorry."
Eruanna nodded. "Then I accept your apology and we shall leave it at that."
Maglor's expression was one of disbelief. "Just like that?" he said. "I almost feel cheated."
Eruanna did not know what to make of Maglor's last comment. "What is your meaning?"
Maglor shook his head. "I expected you to berate me, at least. Have you not been waiting to tell me how cruel and unfair I have been?"
Eruanna huffed. "Why would I waste my energies telling you what you already know?"
Maglor laughed in response and the humor almost reached his eyes. "I see your point," he said. Then he eyed her curiously. "So, you will not be quitting anytime soon?"
"No," Eruanna replied firmly.
"No, I did not imagine so." Maglor paused a moment, before adding, "I do, however, recall giving you the day off. Why are you here?"
Eruanna merely shrugged. "I only wished to be sure there was nothing you needed."
That simple answer hurt Maglor more than angry words ever could. For as long as he remembered no one cared what he needed, or went out of their way to find out. And now this child, whom he had treated so terribly, stood there, concerned for his needs. It made him ill.
Maglor closed his eyes briefly, then opened them before he answered, "I need nothing … thank you."
Eruanna nodded and was about to open the door when temptation got the better of her. Before she was his assistant, Maglor had, on a few occasions, answered her questions. She wondered if he would do so now and decided to press her luck. "May I ask you something?"
Maglor laughed, and this time there was humor in his eyes. "I should have known. Maybe I had better continue being rude to you. I have lived free of your questioning for many months."
Eruanna smiled. "You can think of it as debt repayment, if you like."
Her clever suggestion amused him and he relented. "Very well," he replied. "What is your question?"
She glanced back at the door, thinking on the current and former kings. "I was only wondering … Finarfin was High King of the Noldor in Valinor for two ages before his brother was reborn. And with Fingolfin's past…" She paused. "He drew blood in the first kinslaying and fled to Middle-earth against the Valar's wishes. But Finarfin remained loyal to the Valar and ruled wisely for many years, and yet …" She shook her head in confusion. "I don't understand. Why did Finarfin hand the kingship over to his brother?"
Maglor rested his chin on his hands as he considered Eruanna's question. He knew the change in leadership had been a topic of much debate after Fingolfin was reborn. There were arguments made for and against why either brother should reign. But in the end, it was not the councils or the courts that decided the answer – it was the brothers, themselves. Why was Fingolfin king? Maglor knew the answer. For like Finarfin, Maglor, too, had been King of the Noldor for a time. And also like his uncle, Maglor had been more than happy to hand the crown over when the chance came.
Why was Fingolfin king? To Maglor, the answer was simple. "Not all who are made king wish to wear the crown."
