Chapter 24 – Tales to Tell

Take a seat by the fire and listen to the old ones speak. If you are patient, you will catch a glimpse of the truth in their stories of days long past, for they speak of how things were, not how things were written.


Valinor
Fourth Age

Elrond greeted his guests with his wife at his side. It was the first time that they had played host together in more than five centuries. Welcome to the House of Elrond. It was a new house, yes, not the same as the first but similar in many respects. The same architects drew up the plans and laid down the stones, the artwork was the very same, as were the tapestries and the books. The voices which echoed in the hall were known to him for the most part. Only now and then did he struggle to place a face or voice with a name. It struck him as odd when he realized he had not felt truly at home in Valinor until this night. His eyes swept across the crowd. They rested briefly on his sons. Eruanna was on Elladan's arm. Elrohir trailed behind them. There was a shadow upon his younger son's heart that would not lift. Elrond had tried to reach out, to discover what troubled him, but had been politely turned aside. Elrohir was not ready to speak of it, whatever it was, and he would not ask Elladan to betray his brother's trust.

Elrond, however, was no fool. He noted with curiosity how the relationship between Eruanna and his sons had changed, though there were few others who would notice the difference. Elladan escorted her tonight but Elrond could not recall a single time in the past when he had done so. Elladan had always been Arwen's dinner partner and Elrohir, Eruanna's. But it was not merely a matter of place settings. Elrohir did not dance with her either – not this night or any other. And since his arrival, Elrond had caught a flash of some dark emotion in his son's eyes when his gaze fell upon her. Elrond did not like to speculate about the thoughts and feelings of others. He cared little for wild guessing – but he was no fool.

A light tug on the hem of his sleeve drew his attention back to his wife. Celebrían smiled up at him. "Where did you drift off to, darling?"

He chuckled softly. "Nowhere I wish to dwell tonight."

She took his arm in hers and gave it a firm squeeze. "Good. I want you here with me tonight."

Her warm smile and sparkling eyes washed away the worry that had begun to form in his heart. "Only for tonight?" He lifted a hand to brush a strand of silver hair behind her ear. "I had hoped we would be together forever."

"May your wish be granted," a new voice answered from the doorway.

Elrond's eyes shifted from his wife's face to their guest. The words of welcome he was prepared to speak caught in his throat. He stood an arm's length from another silver-haired elleth, one he had seen only once in the last two ages. "Nan…" he caught himself before the word was fully formed. He did not know quite why, but calling her 'mother' felt like a betrayal with Elwing seated across the hall. "Anira," he began again and took her hand in his. He had meant to maintain proper etiquette and kiss her hand, but he could not stop himself from pulling her into his arms and hugging her tightly. "Anira." He repeated her name again softly, his eyes glistening with unexpected tears.

Celebrían's eyes sparkled likewise. She had kept this particular guest a secret and the outpouring of emotion at their reunion was proof enough her decision had been right. "Lady Anira and I thought to surprise you. She had not much time to speak with you at the Ringbearer's Feast and has agreed to stay with us awhile."

Elrond released the lady a moment later and turned again to his wife. He took her hand in his and placed a kiss on her palm. "Thank you," he said before returning his attention to Anira. A wave of guilt washed over him suddenly, a guilt that had been absent before now. "I am sorry I did not make time to visit you sooner, I should have…"

But she waved away his apology and took his arm instead. "Let us have none of that nonsense, child. You have had more important matters to deal with since your arrival than calling on your old nursemaid. You're in Valinor, now. We have all the time in the world to get reacquainted."


Eruanna had chosen to retain her residence at the palace, but Erestor issued her rooms in the House of Elrond as well. She would have need of them tonight, no doubt. The celebration was bound to last through the night and into the early morning. The guest list included those who had lived in Imladris, as well as family and friends from all corners of Valinor. An hour into the festivities she had lost count of how many edhil she'd met. Erestor took it upon himself to introduce her to those who had passed away or sailed before she joined Elrond's house.

It was shortly after midnight when Eruanna caught sight of Elrond while she and Elladan were talking with friends. It took her a moment to realize that the elleth he sat with was not his wife, but another silver-haired lady. Eruanna recognized her face immediately when the elleth turned briefly in her direction.

"Valar," she gasped.

Elladan followed the direction of her gaze. "What is it?" He spied his father speaking to an elleth he did not know. "Do you know her?"

"No … I … not exactly…"

"Know who?" Elrohir had appeared beside the pair with a drink for his brother.

Elladan took the glass and gestured in their father's direction so that now all three of them watched Elrond and his guest. They sat closer together than a pair of strangers would and as they laughed the elleth reached out and took their father's hand. Neither Elrohir nor Elladan could recall a single soul – other than their mother – whose manner was so at ease in their father's company.

Elladan prodded Eruanna's side with an elbow. "Well, don't keep us in suspense."

Eruanna's attention shifted from Elrond to his sons. They looked at her expectantly. "Her name is Anira. She is Lord Círdan's daughter."

"Really?" Elrohir's surprise was evident in his voice and his gaze returned immediately to the lady's face. He could see the resemblance now, of course, and he was not completely unaware that the former Lord of Mithlond had children. "I heard he had children in Valinor, but I was not aware our father knew them."

"Nor was I," Elladan added, still watching the pair laughing together across the hall. "I have not seen father laugh so freely in a long while. I wonder what they are speaking of."

"Shall we find out?" Elrohir asked but did not wait for an answer before heading off to join their father. Elladan and Eruanna followed on his heels. By the time they reached Elrond's table Celebrían had returned to her husband's side. It was she who greeted her sons and Eruanna.

"Good evening mother, father." Elrohir nodded his head to his parents and Anira before leaning down to place a kiss on his mother's cheek. As he rose his attention turned to Anira. "I do not believe we have been introduced."

Elrond smiled. "No. I don't believe you have. This is Lady Anira, daughter of Círdan and my mother's cousin. She helped raise my brother and I while our father was at sea. Anira, these are my sons, Elladan and Elrohir. And this is Eruanna, a child of my house."

If Eruanna or the twins had found this introduction surprising they hid it well. It was, after all, a rare occasion indeed when Elrond spoke of his brother or his childhood with others. It was a tender subject, one about which Elladan and Elrohir had learned long ago not to ask. But things were different now. They were in Valinor, among elves who were ancient long before their father was born. And the sons of Elrond had been delighted to learn a few secrets about their loved ones since their arrival. Aware of the opportunity at hand, Elladan wasted no time.

"You must have some interesting tales of our father, then."

Anira's brown eyes sparkled with laughter. "Many, I should think."

"Several I'd rather you not share," Elrond said only partly in jest. The lady, however, waved away his concern.

"Shall I tell them of the time Elros convinced you to taste a mud pie?"

Elrohir grinned widely at his brother in remembrance of a similar incident from their youth. Amusement shone from his eyes for the first time all night. "Please do," he said, and took a seat beside Anira. Elladan and Eruanna joined him. Elrond sighed, resigning himself to the embarrassment that would follow. He sat through three more tales of childhood mishaps before excusing himself. He and Celebrían needed to see to their other guests and Anira would be staying with them for awhile. His sons, however, spent much of the evening with Anira listening to tales of their father's past. Eruanna sat with them, committing the stories to memory. And like all stories of the past, now and again Eruanna caught a detail that didn't quite fit into the annals of history.


Eruanna spent the remainder of the week visiting with her father and the other members of Elrond's house before returning to the palace. She arrived at the office she shared with Maglor early the following morning, knowing full well there would be a pile of contracts waiting for her. It was mid-morning before Maglor appeared and she greeted him with a smile and a nod. He asked after her health and that of hers and Elrond's families. She answered, but assiduously avoided any mention of Anira. It was far too early in the day to broach that subject. Afterwards, they returned to their usual companionable silence which lasted through most of the day. The sun was setting before half of Eruanna's work was done, and she exhaled deeply at the sight of her next day's work already piled high.

"I think that's enough for today. Here." He handed her one of the two glasses of wine he'd poured. It was a newer custom between them – sharing a drink while they tidied up for the day. It was a small thing, really, but it meant so much. They would speak of mundane things. Sometimes Eruanna would tell of her plans for the evening or her days off. Maglor rarely offered up such information, and sometimes she wondered how often she was the first and last person he spoke with each day. It made the question she wished to ask him now a bit more difficult – and that was saying something, given all the admittedly intrusive questions she'd asked him before. But this time what she wanted to know was more personal to her as well, given it dealt with Elrond, an ellon who had taken her in and made her family. Was she ready to ask him about Sirion? And if she did, would he tell her the truth? She was almost certain he had not lied to her before, or at least, he had given her what he remembered of the past. But would he speak of this? There was only one way to find out.

"I met Lady Anira the other night – at Elrond's house."

The mood in the room changed immediately. Maglor – who had been about to place a ledger on a shelf – froze, holding the book in mid-air. He exhaled deeply before finishing his task.

He did not look at her when he uttered, "Did you?"

"Yes." Eruanna leaned against her desk, bracing herself before she could continue. "She has many stories to tell of Elrond and his brother. Some from when they were small children …" She picked up an old quill and turned it in her hands nervously. "And some from when they were not so young. She spoke of one mishap during an archery lesson when they were twenty."

Maglor's voice had turned several degrees colder when he responded. "Your point?"

Eruanna studied Maglor for a moment. He still had not turned away from the archive shelf. She did not need to see his face to see the tension in his shoulders or hear the anger rising in his voice. She had never really been afraid of Maglor, not before. His fits of anger, though emotionally hurtful, were merely that. She had never feared for her physical safety. But something … something in the way he stood there told her there was a slight chance she might need to run for the door. She walked slowly across the room, putting herself between Maglor and the exit. It might be a foolish action, but part of her wasn't so sure, and if she had learned anything from Glorfindel it was to trust her instincts.

"They were with you then, were they not? Elrond was six when you sacked Sirion and sixty-five when he was freed – if that much of the histories are true."

Maglor nodded once. "They are."

"Then she was with you as well."

Maglor said nothing to this but he did turn around and return to his desk. He threw back his drink and poured himself another. He moved to the window and looked out over the garden watching the sun go down. Eruanna moved closer, one small step at a time, until she stood opposite his desk.

"When I was a child, Elrond would sometimes share stories with me of his youth. He wanted me to know I was not alone and that he understood me. But I always sensed that much of his tale remained hidden, the same as all else in history."

History. Sometimes Eruanna wondered why the Eldar bothered recording it at all when it preserved only select pieces of the truth. Eruanna could not begin to count the number of songs and stories written about Lúthien and her capture by two of Maglor's younger brothers, and yet of Anira… "There is little written about the years Elrond and his brother were held captive – and nothing at all about Anira. Why is that?"

"How should I know?" Maglor snapped, rounding on her now. "It was not I who wrote your histories. Perhaps you should ask Elrond. If these tales cannot be found in his library it is because he failed to record them."

Eruanna had been prepared for his anger but not for where he would place the blame. On a child? "Or maybe Elrond was too young to remember, or to fully understand what had happened to them."

"Or perhaps he wished to forget," Maglor offered.

"Maybe," Eruanna conceded. But somehow she doubted it. There were some details, after all, that had found their way into books – perhaps more telling than those left out. "It is written that you cared for them, that you loved them – Elrond and his brother. I do not believe Elrond would have allowed that to be recorded into history, were it not true. And if he truly wished to forget, I doubt he would have shared that secret with anyone."

Maglor knew of Elrond's account of him as recorded by the lore masters. How could he not? They were the only kind words recorded of him in all of Middle-earth's history. They should be a comfort to him, shouldn't they? To know that one living person remembered he was not a complete monster. But somehow Elrond's testimony had the opposite effect. Because he knew he didn't deserve Elrond's kind words – true or otherwise. He might have loved Elrond and Elros, but he hurt them just the same. All the kind words in the world could not change that. "They were the closest I ever came to having children. We destroyed their world when we sacked Sirion. I tried to put the pieces back together again."

"And Anira?"

Maglor lifted a hand to his temple in a poor attempt to hold back the pain forming in his head. "She was with Elwing and her sons when we found them."

Eruanna waited a long time for Maglor to tell her more, but as the silence lengthened, curiosity got the better of her. "And?" she whispered.

Maglor's gaze fell upon Eruanna and he studied her silently for a long time. It was a strange moment for him, for he had never fully acknowledged Eruanna's questioning before now. He had joked about it, yes, but had never stopped to consider what she would do with the pieces of his past that he unveiled to her. Why this tale should make him see her more clearly was a mystery. Perhaps it was not the tale itself, but merely the time and place or the color of the sky as the sun was setting. Whatever the cause, he saw her now. Not a child, nor as innocent or foolish as he once guessed. A keen mind, stout heart and generous soul lived within her and if he continued to speak, it was because he wanted to tell her, wanted to share the truth of his past with her. It would be a conscious decision. He could not pretend otherwise. Not anymore.

He walked over to her desk where she'd left her glass half-empty. He refilled it and held it out to her. She approached him slowly and took the glass from his outstretched hand. He regarded her thoughtfully. "Do you really want to know what comes after 'and'?"

She did. And she didn't. But somehow neither felt like an appropriate answer. "Do you want to tell me?"

"No," he said. And the corners of his mouth twitched before forming into a troubled smile. "And yes. I have told you everything else. Why not this?"

"You don't have to."

Maglor shook his head and a bark of humorless laughter escaped him. "Of course I don't." He knew that. He knew it all too well. And yet for some reason he felt compelled to answer whenever Eruanna asked something of him. "What do you think of me?" The question was out of his mouth before he thought better of it.

"Pardon?" Eruanna asked, confused.

Maglor heard the uncertainty in her voice and asked again – more clearly the second time. "Do you think me a monster? A fool?"

"I …" Eruanna hesitated a moment before deciding on an honest answer. "I think you are both – and more."

Maglor laughed. "What else am I then?"

The words poured out of Eruanna's mouth. "Loyal … spiteful … caring … bitter … brave-hearted – and a coward, too."

"Truly," he nodded. "But why do you care? Why ask what happened at Sirion? The tale has already been recorded. What difference would my version of events make?"

"No difference to the historians, most likely," she conceded. "But to some – yourself, and those who were there – it might make all the difference."

Maglor looked away again, out the window, across the garden and beyond upon the fair city. "Do you share my secrets with the whole world?"

"No, I don't." Only once had Eruanna asked a friend about Lady Anira and she had not told Marilla why, but somehow the clever elleth had put two and two together. Eruanna hardly thought that counted. But aside from their one discussion, she had not shared any secret of Maglor's life with another.

"Why not?" He was genuinely curious to know why she kept her silence.

"Because – they are not my stories to tell."

She had said this so simply that Maglor had no doubt she believed it to be true. And perhaps he had known this from the very beginning, from the first time they ever met. Was this the reason why he felt at ease while talking to her – while sharing his secrets? Because she understood that it was his tale to tell. All she would do is listen, and that was exactly what he needed – someone to listen to the story of his life without passing judgment upon him. This was what he had needed for the last seven thousand years – a soul like Eruanna. Someone to listen. And by the grace of the Valar, she was there.

"Have a seat, and I will tell you what happened in Sirion."