A Familiar Stranger

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Elrond nodded slightly. "I have it."

Still the elf remained grave, though a hint of relief flashed across his pale face. "Good." Then he was silent.

Elrond bit his lip, a habit he'd never before had in the elf's presence, and it unnerved him now. In truth, he had treasured the harp the elf had left in his keeping, but none had ever learned of it, not Celebrían, and especially not Galadriel. Until now, the harp had been hidden away in a closet in Rivendell.

"I will deliver it to you later," he added. "After the evening meal in the Hall of Fire."

"The Hall of Fire..." the elf stared at Elrond. "You named it after my father's hall... Why?"

Elrond shrugged slightly. "The name suited it."

The elf's gaze softened. It would have been imperceptible to others, but Elrond caught it.

After a moment, the elf spoke again. "It's been many years. You've... been well?"

"For the most part, yes." Elrond slowly approached and sat in a chair opposite. "Where have you been for so long?"

"Wandering. Grieving. Time slips by before we notice it." There was a pause. "Don't you resent me? At all?"

Elrond sat back in his chair slightly. "Why should I resent you?"

"Elros..." Sorrow flashed through the elf's eyes, but Elrond didn't miss it.

Elrond's eyes were misty. "What Elros chose was not your fault. You could not have stopped him no better than I. You've done what you could."

The elf shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had no idea how to word this. "Well... Elrond... there is something I've never told you." Once he began speaking, the words tumbled out. "I wanted to tell you earlier, and then the war came... and Elros was gone... and... and--"

"Maglor." Elrond's voice was gentle. "It was not your fault. Take your time. I am listening."

Maglor's slender musician's fingers twisted around each other in his lap. He took a deep breath and began. "When... everything happened, we did not expect that Elwing would have children. In fact, we hadn't been aware of her marriage. So we were very much surprised when you and your brother were found." He bit his lip, shifting in his seat again. "We didn't want anymore blood of our kin in our hands, least of all the blood of a pair of two-year-olds. So we took you with us. What we didn't know was that one of Elwing's ladies-in-waiting had escaped the city in the heat of the battle. What we also didn't know was that she took an infant with her. A little girl." Suddenly Maglor's black eyes met Elrond's. "The baby's name was Elravíen Peredhel."

Elrond's face looked as if it had been carved into marble. His hands were clenched together, so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"Your younger sister," Maglor added, as if Elrond had not yet figured that out.

The room was deadly silent. After a moment Elrond cleared his throat and asked in a rather husky voice,

"How... How do you know this?"

"I was traveling to see you after Celebrían sailed, when I ran into orcs in the Misty Mountains. I destroyed them and followed their trail back where they'd come from, for I knew they had been up to no good. I came to their campsite and there I found an elleth. She was the mirror image of Elwing." Maglor took a deep breath. "She died later that night. But before she passed on, she gave me a mission to complete for her. She told me her name, and then gave me a pendant. She wanted me to find her kin and deliver it." He held out his hand, palm up, to Elrond. A small sapphire encircled with tiny diamonds dangled from a delicate mithril chain.

Elrond took it carefully. He stood silently and walked to the window, hardly noticing the beauty of the early morning. His mind was whirling. He recognized the pendant as the one he'd seen his mother wear when he was young. And he had a little sister. Well, he did once. Elravíen. Daughter of the stars. He hadn't known what he had missed until it was gone. Forever. His fist tightened over the gem. What else had he missed? What else was there he should know? Once again, he wished Gil-Galad were here. A dear uncle who was also gone. Eventually, he turned back to Maglor, who sat with his head bowed in the chair. He looked so miserable and forlorn. But he was family who was still here. 

The Noldo-lord stepped away from the window, stopping beside the older elf. "I want to thank you, Maglor. For saving my brother and I, for caring for us, for teaching us, for raising us like your sons... for watching over Elravíen until her death... for everything."

Slowly, Maglor's face lifted and his deep black eyes met Elrond's, their depths glistening suspiciously. "I should be the one thanking you, El. We were the ones who killed your family and ruined everything you would have had, that you deserve to have." His voice was soft, but full of emotion. This time he did not conceal it. "I... want to thank you for forgiving us. My world, my home, my family and my heart were destroyed ages ago, but what we did... I only hope that we... that I... can...make it up to you." His voice cracked. "It is what my mother and Maedhros would have wanted."

Elrond quickly knelt beside his foster-father's chair and took the large hands gently between his. His voice was incomparably gentle and soothing, as if he spoke to a child or a frightened puppy. "No, no, Maglor, don't blame yourself for these things. It was your father's Oath that drove you onwards. We all have done things in our time that we have regretted, that when thinking back, we would give anything to have a second chance. But we cannot dwell in the past. The past merely teaches us not to make the same mistakes twice, helps us build a better future. And sometimes it takes a little longer to find our place in today's world, but that's alright. You are a good, honest, brave and caring person. You were my light, my protector, my savior, my refuge - that I kept running back to when I felt lost and lonely or needed advice. You are the one who shaped me into what I am. You taught me the meaning of courage, strength, and sacrifice. You taught me the power of love. You taught me what it meant to be a warrior, how important it was to be a good leader. I remember those times as if it were yesterday. I remember the day I grew discouraged by the enemy, you took me by my shoulder and you pointed to the gray skies, and you told me that sometimes it became cloudy, and sometimes storms darkened the land, and maybe you couldn't always see the light, but the sun would always return, it always rise again, no matter how dark tomorrow looked. I believed you. And you were right. The sun rose the next day, shining brighter than ever, pushing past the clouds, and we broke through enemy lines that day. You were my hero, Maglor. Don't take the blame for the mistakes of our entire people. Don't belittle yourself because someone else cannot accept you for what you really are. You have already suffered so much - too much. All I want is for you to be free, happy, at peace. Someday, we will all go home, and you will see your mother and Maedhros waiting in the light of the dawn for you. Everything will be put to rights at last and you will see that this world is not all bad." 

A bell sounded in the distance, disrupting their conversation.

Elrond smiled faintly, patting Maglor's hands. "The evening meal." He stood and his long robes fell about his feet. "Will you be joining us? It will be just family."

"Family." The older elf rose uncertainly. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want —"

"I am sure... Adar."

As they left the study, Maglor touched his foster-son's arm. "Thank you, El. You've changed, but for the good. I am able to comprehend why people flock to you for council. You truly are as wise and understanding as I'd heard."

Elrond smiled softly back. "Just remember, Adar, it was you who taught me what I know."

***

The End~

***

Notes~~~

Adar - elvish for father

Maglor - the second son of Feanor, who was forced to take the Oath of Feanor with his brothers. He adopted and raised Elros and Elrond after their parents were gone.

Elros - Elrond's older twin brother who became mortal and founded Numenor. He is Aragorn's ancestor.

Elwing - the mother of Elros and Elrond

Maedhros - the first son of Feanor, who leapt into a fiery chasm and fell to his death

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