Disclaimer: I own nothing but the OC's and the plot, everything else belongs to Tolkien and those who currently own the rights to his work.

Epilogue – Maglor

They wonder how I came to be here, sitting on this ship, sailing with them into the West. They are all wondering…Elrond and Artanis, the Maia Olórin, the young edhil who do not know my name, even the little hobbits…

After all these years, it was the call of the sea that drew me back. I can no longer resist its power. I have dreaded this day for many ages, but it was not for fear of the Valar that I stayed away. I feared the others…the countless, nameless victims of my father's pride…and the blade I carried in his name.

Son of Fëanor… there was a time that epithet was one of honor.

How low our house has fallen!

Our house…I am the only one now, the only one for a terrible long count of years. There was my brother's son, too, for a time, but Eregion fell millennia ago. I heard the tale. I have ears, don't I? They have always served me well.

The old ones cast sidelong glances in my direction and I can see it in their eyes. They thought I abandoned the world, faded from my grief, but I could not. Mandos is filled with the fëar of elves cut down by my sword… and I was not ready to join them.

Elrond has yet to speak to me. Our eyes meet and I see in them many questions. There is much to say, but neither of us has found the courage to begin. He looks much older than when I last saw him. Small lines run from the corners of his eyes and lips. Those grey orbs speak loudly of pain and I find myself wishing to reach out to him. Would he accept comfort from me? I do not know.

Artanis… I thought she might faint when she first caught sight of me. I have heard many whispers of her through the ages…the Elf Witch of Lórien, the Lady of Light, Galadriel…my beautiful cousin. You were the only one with courage enough to defy my father. How I wished for your strength!

I still do.

I let pretty lies and blind loyalties bind my tongue, force my hand. I should have spoken, for the gift of speech and song was mine. A wasted gift, so it would seem. I held my tongue and learned well the price to be paid for silence. I led my people to their doom and in the end, only I remained, left to wander the world alone.

It was a fitting punishment, more than fitting.

After centuries filled with blood and tears unnumbered I had no honor left, no emotion, save for hate. I hated our enemies, and myself, and the jewels most of all. I cast the last into the sea. How many times had I dreamed of their destruction, praying they would crumble to dust so I would at last be set free?

I cast the Silmaril into the sea, but the fire that scorched me did not cease.

I feel it still, at this very moment, a terrible burning. I wandered to the ends of the Earth and back again, trying to escape the pain, but the Valar showed me no mercy.

I deserve none.

But I am here now. I am here and they will have to rewrite the books. They will have to change my ending. But who shall write the next chapter? I know not.

I know only that the elves I cut down will each in their turn be reborn. I will be forced to meet them again and again, seeking forgiveness for deeds that cannot be undone. I waited as long as I could, but time has finally caught up with me. The curse Namo laid upon the Noldor has come true. I can no longer resist the call, and so I will have to face them again, the elves of Alqualondë, of Doriath and of Sirion. They wait for me across the sea, and I tremble in terror at their judgment.

I do not know how I will be received when this ship reaches the White Shores, if shackles and punishment and the Great Darkness await me. I have only to wait and see, and I will not wait long. I hear a gull crying. It circles overhead. Land rises from the mist. I have returned to the land of my birth. May it forgive me!

FIN

Author's Note: 1.5 years of my life went into this work. If you made it this far, I guess that means you enjoyed it. If you took the time to read, please take one more minute to leave a review and let me know what you thought of the completed work. This story was originally inspired by an argument I had with a fellow reader who complained about all the LOTR fandom clichés. I argued that what she really hated was bad storytelling and that the clichés could work if they were well integrated into a story. This was my attempt to do just that. I believe I hit most of the big ones: orphans, half-elves, trickster twins, grumpy Erestor, haughty Haldir... and so on. I hope I did them justice.

This story is the first piece in my series Tales of the Elves. The loose threads of 'Peredhel' are tied up in my sequel 'Echoes of Shattered Glass'. Check out my author page for chronology.