The following morning Maglor managed to drag himself to breakfast. He was anxious about the boys' opinions of him, but decided he would draw more attention to himself if he sat in his room all day. When he found his way to the terrace in his new silk robes and braided hair that Legolas had done the previous night, the boys fell silent at the sight of him. Maglor took a deep breath and stood up straight, moving to sit next to Legolas. There were various breakfast pastries among glasses of juice on the table, and Legolas smiled to him.

"Good morning," Legolas nodded.

"Good morning," Maglor murmured, and Elladan and Elrohir smiled and bowed their heads to him.

"Did you sleep well?" Glorfindel asked him, and Maglor nodded.

"Yes, thank you." Glorfindel nodded and they all returned to their breakfast in silence, the sound of the distant waterfall soothing Maglor's mind. "Do you look forward to going to the undying lands?"

Elladan looked up and glanced at his brother. "Yes, very much so. Although my heart is saddened by leaving Imladris, I miss my mother and father very greatly."

"I agree. I wish nothing more than to see my father again," Elrohir said.

"I wish to see you father as well," Maglor smiled softly. "He was not happy with me the last time I saw him."

"When was that?" Elladan asked with a smirk.

"He did not tell you?" Maglor's voice was worried.

"No. He spoke of you and of your brother but did not tell us of the final time he saw you."

"He may not remember it very well," he said, mostly reassuring himself. "It was the final leg of the first age. I had left him with Earien in Sirion. I gave him a brooch of golden knots and he threw it at me as I left, yelling obscenities at me." He said with a sad smile.

"He wore that brooch all the time," Elladan grinned, "we were never permitted to touch it."

Maglor took it out of his pocket and turned it over in his hand, "it was my father's." Elladan's eyes widened, and the air darkened between them. Maglor looked up and diverted his eyes. "It was actually my grandfather's and he gave it to his oldest son, my father, and it was supposed to go to Maedhros but he kept misplacing it so I kept it, and gave it to my oldest son." He smiled brightly, causing Elladan and Elrohir to smile back. "I always hoped he would give it to his oldest, but I cannot pretend I am not happy that he kept it all this time."

"Did Elros get anything from you?" Elladan asked.

"Maedhros gave him our father's sword, I cannot say that I know its fate."

"Anduril," Elrohir gasped sharply. "Our father kept it from when it was Isildur's until he gave it to Aragorn, but before Isildur it was passed down from the first Numenorian King Tar Minyatur, Elros."

"Anduril is Feanor's sword?" Legolas choked.

"Yes, I believe it is," Glorfindel grinned. "Your boys turned your gifts into legendary heirlooms."

Maglor grinned, and it vanished abruptly. He hid his frown behind his glass as he raised it to his lips.

"What is it?" Legolas asked. Maglor shook his head. "Maglor," he pleaded.

"My first thought was to tell my brother when I got to Valinor," he said bitterly. "But he will not be there when I arrive."

"Amrod and Amras are," Voronwe said quietly, his dark hair blowing into his face from the gentle breeze that accompanied them.

Maglor grinned, "that is good news. There will be family for me." His face grew dark, and he looks around to the table fleetingly before meeting Voronwe's eyes. "Who else has left Mandos Halls, Voronwe?"

His mouth opened and closed like a fish, and his cerulean eyes grew nervous. "Maglor-"

"Voronwe," he growled, "who?"

"Well, uh, Fingon, and uh, Finarfin's children. Fingolfin."

"So my uncles will both be present?" he clarified.

"Yes, Fingolfin will be there."

Maglor nodded, his stomach knotting at the thought of seeing his uncles again after so many years. The looks of shame and disgust.

"We shall be with you," Legolas smiled.

Maglor nodded, his heart lightened by the comment, and finished his breakfast before returning to his room to pack. Before he knew it, it was time to go, and second thoughts plagued his mind. He had been at peace, why return and stir up trouble? Re-live all he had spent centuries dwelling on, the guilt that they would trigger- he was not looking forward to it. Amrod and Amras had been guilty, but not as guilty as he. Legolas soon knocked on his door and they made their way to the courtyard. Elladan and Elrohir lingered for a short time, saying goodbye to centuries of memories before silently joining the group.

They walked as far as Weathertop before they stopped for the night, quickly building a fire and putting dinner on the fire. Maglor was growing anxious, and Legolas knew it. He could feel it in every breath the elf took, and in turn Legolas wished to comfort him. But he felt too young, too inexperienced. He hadn't seen half of what Maglor had seen, had never experienced the pain Maglor had. Maglor had seen death and pain and suffering like no other elf really had, and experienced such guilt that it would have killed anyone else. Legolas' words were empty, and so he remained silent. Elladan kept watch following a silent supper, and Legolas managed to sleep through Maglor's agonizing aura of terror and pain. Soon he woke to the others already having breakfast. The sun shone bright and birds sang gleefully in the shadowed treetops of Chetwood before them. Something was wrong, a foul feeling in the air, and the others could sense it as well, and were eating silently. Legolas glanced toward Amon Lanc, and his senses sharpened, his ears pricking up. Something was happening over there, and the shadow that was cast over them was due to an unwelcoming presence approaching.

"Glorfindel," Legolas said softly. He looked over. "I believe we should start moving."

"Perhaps," he responded curiously, his attention on the hill, "or perhaps this danger shall follow."

Legolas looked back at the hill and dark forms were aiming for the treeline. They were the shapes of men and orcs, but why would the two run together as one? Legolas drew his bow and stood, and the others followed suit slowly, listening for their enemy. Legolas' ears strained for any sign, and he evened his breathing to allow patience into his senses as his father had taught him. Maglor had nothing but a small dagger seemingly given to him by Elrohir that morning, but Legolas cocked his head. Did they not trust him with a sword to protect himself?

Just then men and orcs burst into the clearing, the men dressed as orcs and screaming like them. Maglor pulled his dagger from its sheath and jammed it into the man's neck with one pristine movement. He pulled it from his neck and used it to stab another in the chest. Maglor then stepped over his falling body and snapped the neck of the next. Legolas flinched in surprise, the ease and grace of the elf's brutal murder shocking him. He had killed hundreds of elves, men. His own kin…

A shooting pain pulled Legolas brutally from his reverie, and he pulled the arrow from his shoulder and drew his sword, beheading the attacking orc that approached him. He continued to watch Maglor as he killed one after another with little effort, his muscles ripping through the bodies of any in his path. He didn't need a sword. Legolas stopped fighting to watch Maglor break the arm of the final attacker and slam his heel brusquely into his neck, knocking him to the ground. As the man choked Maglor slammed his heel several more times into the neck of the man until he lie still. Maglor turned toward his shocked comrades, the high of bloodlust in his bright blue eyes, now wide and dilated. It was as if Legolas had never seen him before. His muscles had returned at one point since they had found him, and his had more brawn than any of them present. Blood sprayed his sky blue tunic and face, and his raven hair was matted with it. He and a few of his brothers took down entire kingdoms, Legolas. Do you truly believe you could match him in combat? His father's words haunted him, and Maglor dropped his dagger, his hands shaking.

"I-" Maglor started, but Legolas' hand was still on the hilt of his sword, although he knew it would do him no good.

"I think we should start moving again," Glorfindel said, looking vaguely alarmed himself.

The company, in a fog, agreed, and gathered their belongings deep in their own thoughts. Legolas walked behind Maglor, and even Voronwe had seemed off. He realized none alive had seen the elf or his brothers truly fight before, and lived to tell of it. He had been one of the few survivors of the first age, and the only surviving Feanorian. Legolas now realized- there was a reason.

Thanks so much for reading! Sorry for the wait. Please review, this story has had quite a bit of support but very little reviews! I LOVE REVIEWS! So please, don't be shy! Thanks so much to those who have, your comments mean a lot! The references to Elrond's childhood is from my story Son of Stars.