Chapter Three
Maedhros didn't look up when soft footsteps approached him. He knew they belonged to a Maia sent by Námo to speak with him. This same thing occurred whenever he was allowed to leave his cell and wander the Halls. No one outside his family was allowed out at such times, of course. No one needed the havoc that would cause.
The footsteps paused hesitantly, absently catching Maedhros's attention. All of the Maiar who had come previously had no qualms about breaking his reverie.
"Maedhros?" The uncertainty in the voice matched the footsteps, but that wasn't why Maedhros whipped his head around.
"Mairon!" he said in surprised delight. He went to give Mairon a hug, only to remember that as a fëa, he couldn't do so. But Mairon returned the embrace without any difficulty, and Maedhros again belatedly recalled that as a Maia, Mairon would not have a problem interacting with a fëa as though the or she was still housed. Maedhros was still the taller of the two, so he pushed back the Maia's hair, noting the new earrings, and tipped Mairon's face up.
"I knew the war had ended, but I didn't know what happened to you," Maedhros said. "I'm glad you are alright."
"Me too," Mairon said with a wry grin. Maedhros laughed.
"You're free now," the Elf said softly, watching the first unconstrained smiled he had ever seen Mairon give break across the Maia's face.
"I am," Mairon said with quiet joy. "I really am." Maedhros pulled him close again.
"Good," Maedhros said into the Maia's hair. He then pulled back to study Mairon again.
"So you're serving Námo now?" Maedhros asked rhetorically. Mairon nodded, blushing slightly.
"And that's...alright? It's working out well?" Maedhros asked somewhat awkwardly. Mairon laughed.
"I've never understood why you Eldar were so wary of Námo," the Maia said. "He's really very nice. And yes, it's working out well—at least between the two of us. I'm not really serving here yet."
"Why not?" Maedhros asked with a frown.
"Because too many people here know me," Mairon explained.
"I suppose that makes sense," Maedhros conceded. "Here, let's sit down." They sat on a bench by a small fountain that was located in the crossways of two large halls.
"So Námo set you on me, did he?" Maedhros asked. Mairon looked faintly uncomfortable.
"That's not how I would phrase it," he said. "He asked me to speak with you because we were friends once. He wants to help you, you know."
"I suppose," Maedhros sighed. "But do I deserve to be helped?"
"Do I?" Mairon countered with a wry smile. "There are plenty of people who would sooner forgive you than me." Maedhros looked down.
"I tried to tell people about who you really were," he said. "But no one would listen. They all said I had made up a sympathetic story for you to keep myself sane, or they thought you were lying to me. Many felt I never really escaped Thangorodrim."
"You didn't escape, Maedhros," Mairon began quietly, not quite looking at him. "I thought you had, and you escaped Morgoth, but I didn't see the chains you had already been bound with.
"The Oath..." Maedhros began, knowing exactly what the Maia was talking about, then stopped, not sure what to say about it; not sure how to make Mairon understand the emotions he had about it, emotions he wasn't even sure of.
"What has the Oath brought you?" Mairon asked bluntly.
"Pain. Destruction. Regret," Maedhros answered in a whisper. "But it was necessary..."
"Only because of your father," Mairon pointed out. "And that is why you fear to break it now. Because it still ties you to your family."
"It is not only that," Maedhros said. "It is all I have left...If I forsake it now, everything that has been done since the Darkening is worthless. All the pain, all the destruction, all the regret has no meaning." He shook his head. "I am sorry. I cannot." He stood, and Mairon suddenly found his hands very interesting. Maedhros looked at him, then ran his fingers down the side of the Maia's face.
"You should come visit me again, though," Maedhros said. "I'm curious as to your story." Mairon looked up and smiled.
"Of course I will," he said.
"Good," Maedhros replied, smiling as well as he left. At least he'd gotten the Elf to smile, Mairon thought moodily, staring at the small fountain they had been sitting by.
"I fear my cousin shall not renounce his oath, though 'tis noble of you to try to convince him to do so. Still, perhaps my pessimism is unfounded, and your labors shall bear fruit after all."
Mairon's head whipped around, the color leaving his face as he met the dispassionate stare of Finrod Felagund. He shifted, muscles tightening as he tried to decide if he should flee, and if so, whether he should return to his quarters, or to wherever Námo was at the moment.
"It's alright," the former king said quietly, seeing the sudden fear on the Maia's face. "When Beren and Lúthien passed through here the second time, they spoke to me about you." Mairon stilled, willing to hear the Elf out at the mention of his old friends, though he remained poised to flee, just in case.
"I have to admit I was rather shocked, and slightly skeptical about what they told me. But I like to consider myself fair, so I decided to wait until I learned more before I made up my mind about you. Then I heard the Valar had pardoned you." The Elf shrugged. "I suppose I'm more curious than anything."
Mairon relaxed slightly, though he remained wary. Finrod took that as an encouraging sign and came to sit on the other end of the bench. Slowly, he reached out and placed a hand on the Maia's shoulder. Mairon shrank back, but still didn't run. Still moving slowly, Finrod scooted closer and gently cupped Mairon's face in his hands. He pulled the Maia's face up to search Mairon's scared and hesitant eyes. Slowly, his expression grew compassionate.
"They were right," he said quietly. He kissed the Maia's forehead, then leaned his own against it, again searching the Mairon's now stunned gaze. "For what it is worth, I forgive you," Finrod said sincerely.
"How can you?" Mairon whispered in confusion. "I don't understand." Finrod thought for a moment.
"To begin with, my death is not entirely your fault," Finrod said. "If I had followed my Atar and returned to Valinor, I would have never died. For another thing, you weren't exactly free to do as you wished. And finally, what good would being angry with you do? None, so why should I waste energy on it?"
"I never thought of it like that," Mairon said introspectively.
"Not many do," Námo said, emerging out of a side hallway, catching the attention of both Elf and Maia. "And thus they linger here, unable to give up their hatred and anger."
"That is why you said the Noldor would linger long, though others would plead for them," Finrod realized. "For they will not do what is necessary to heal."
"Exactly," Námo replied. "Remember that, when you go."
"Where's Finrod going?" Mairon asked with a yawn. Námo laughed softly, and pulled the young Maia into his arms.
"He's going to be reborn," Námo said.
"I am?" Finrod asked in shock. Námo laughed again.
"Yes," he reassured the Elf. "Your forgiveness of Mairon was the last lesson you needed to learn here. You are ready to return to your kin—and your atar and ammë will be ecstatic over your return." A female Maia appeared, her dark hair pulled back behind her head.
"Hello, Istamírë," Finrod said, smiling. Mairon knew her as well; she served as Námo's chief Maia.
"Hello Finrod, Mairon," she replied, nodding to each in turn. "You called for me, my lord?" she continued, addressing Námo.
"I did," Námo replied. "Finrod is ready to leave us."
"That is wonderful news," Istamírë said warmly. "If you will follow me?" she asked Finrod. The Elf nodded, but turned to Mairon.
"Goodbye, Mairon," he said softly. "And thank you."
"Thank you," the Maia replied sincerely. "Your forgiveness truly does mean a lot to me." Finrod smiled, gently running his fingers through Mairon's dark hair before turning to follow Istamírë.
"Well done today, my little one," Námo told Mairon when the others had left. "Especially with Maedhros."
"But he didn't listen to me," Mairon protested sleepily.
"I doubted he would, at least not on the first try," Námo told him. "But that does not change the fact you did well."
"If you say so," Mairon conceded with another yawn, too tired and too well conditioned to argue.
"I do say so," Námo said with a soft smile. "And I also say you need a nap."
"No argument there," Mairon said indistinctly, curling into Námo's embrace and relaxing. Námo accommodated him easily and watched the little Maia slide into sleep, his own smile never fading.
And enter Maedhros! And Finrod! We'll be seeing more of both of them... As always, please review!