Míril was quiet as she walked with Vairë through the Hall of Tapestries. Her mind raced with questions. The truths Nienna had placed in her mind, the truths of pity and love, now caused her to realize that good and bad were not cut and dry as she’d previously believed. Kinslayers did evil deeds, but in their hearts, now many thousands of years later, they felt repentance. Maedhros did at least, she instantly had picked up on that.
“My lady, when will he be released?” Míril asked Vairë as they walked next to the wall. “He is sorry for his deeds.”
Vairë sighed. “I do not know, my child. And though he is sorry, and many like Maglor beg for his release… it does not erase the wrongs he committed.”
“But Maglor was a kinslayer,” Míril pointed out. “He took the selfsame oath.”
Vairë nodded. “Truly you speak. But there were many who saw his rejection of the oath proof of his repentance, and dying to make sure the Silmaril returned here gained him many friends among the powerful.”
Míril nodded. She supposed that made sense. Still she did not like it, and this surprised herself. Nienna had worked wonders in her heart. She knew no hate any more. Not even for Halion.
Through the Hall of Weaving they went, past the many weavers of Vairë busy at their stations. She caught sight of Maglor, busy staring out a window on the left wall. Elladan and Elrohir were seated on the floor, listening as Míriel told them stories of her weavings. Fingon was leaning against the wall, watching his friend intently as the other elf stared out the window. Vairë smiled at her as they entered.
“Perhaps you would like to show them the tapestries, Míriel?” Vairë gestured to the half elves. “After all, they are in them.”
“A wonderful idea.” Míriel smiled at them warmly. “Come, let us walk.”
Fingon, Elladan, and Elrohir immediately followed her, but Míril paused a moment. She turned to Vairë and spoke. “May I speak to Maglor, my lady?”
Vairë agreed and followed Míriel and the twins out, leaving Maglor and Míril alone in the small room. Míril went up to him as he looked out the window, placing her hand on his arm.
“How is he?” Maglor asked, choking up.
Míril sighed. “His heart aches. He wished me to tell Nerdanel that he is sorry, for everything.”
The elf wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He turned away from her. He gave a short, humorless laugh as he tried to get control of himself.
Míril wanted to comfort him, but did not know how. She stood silent, allowing him a moment to recover.
“You know, you were named after my grandmother.” Maglor turned to her after another moment. “I spoke to your birth parents.”
“Gilrin and Orelon?” Míril was taken aback. “They are here?”
Maglor nodded. “They wish to see you. To meet you again at last. However we all thought it best that you settle in first.”
Míril's face contorted. She wasn't sure how she felt. On the one hand, she was ecstatic. At last she could meet the parents she had vague memories of. On the other hand, they weren't her parents. Halbarad was the only one she’d ever known for more than three years of her life.
“Miril, are you alright?” Maglor waved a hand in front of her face. “Come on. The others are getting farther ahead every minute.”
She was snapped from her stupor and together they hurried to catch up with the small group. They reached the twins, Vairë, and Míriel just in time, inside the Hall of Stories. Míriel took them to a small door in the Hall of Stories right wall. Overtop it was the Tengwar script for “House of Finwë.”
“Come inside.” Vairë gestured for them to follow as she opened the door for them.
“This is my personal workspace,” Míriel revealed. “My task is to chronicle all the doings of the House of Finwë.” She pointed to the left wall. “This one is the Years of the Trees to the First Age.”
They looked at the beautiful tapestries on this wall. Fingon’s final stand, Fingolfin’s duel with Morgoth, the ruling of Finarfin, the rescue of Maedhros were all contained there. The War of Wrath and all the deeds done therein by Maglor and Maedhros, the founding of Gondolin, the death of Aredhel, the marriage of Celeborn to Galadriel. But even farther back, there was the creation of the Silmarils by Fëanor, the gift of Huan to Celegorm, Maglor’s songs of power, Curufin’s creations.
Míriel allowed them to marvel at the wall before taking them across to the far right. “This is for the Second Age.”
At the forefront was the creation of the Rings of Power by Celebrimbor, son of Curufin. Then came others: the sack of Eregion, along with London’s Creation by Gil-Galad, son of Orodreth. Elros’ founding of Numenor, and Elrond’s service to Gil-Galad. The Wandering of Maglor, Galadriel’s founding of Lothlorien, and crowning of Tar-Ancalimë, first ruling Queen of Numenor of the line of Elros. The Establishment of Rivendell by Elrond comes to pass. Then the births of Elendil, Isildur, and Anárion. Everything culminated in the second giant piece: the War of the Last Alliance, with the deaths of Gil-Galad and Elendil.
At last she took them to the far wall, cut in which was a door. But around the small door were many tapestries. “The Third Age,” she told them.
There were once more many: The wedding of Elrond and Celebrían, the births of Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen. The capture and rescue and leaving of Celebrían from Middle Earth. The Hunt for the servants of Sauron begins, conducted by the Twins. The birth of Aragorn, and the death of Arathorn. Aragorn as Thorongil. The exploits of all the Dunédain chiefs. The adoption of the remaining 'Exiled’ descendants of Fëanor by Halbarad, and the death of Eldir. The childhood of Míril in Rivendell, the meeting of her and Elrohir. Her training as a ranger. Aragorn’s friendship with Elrond and his sons. The betrothal of Arwen and Aragorn. Many tapestries devoted to the War of the Ring. The marriages of Míril and Elrohir, and Arwen and Aragorn, including Arwen’s choice of mortality, and Míril’s choice of immortality. Finally, the Reclamation of the Silmaril and the journey to Harad by Elladan, Elrohir, Maglor, and Miril, including the death of Maglor and the sending West of the jewel.
“This is incredible,” Míril breathed in the air as though it was precious. “Look at this work!”
Elladan and Elrohir heartily agreed, walking around and eying each tapestry carefully.
“There is one more,” Vairë revealed with a smile. “Come.”
They went through the small door in the wall for the Third Age. A whole new room of tapestries was forming, though tapestries only adorned about a quarter of one wall.
“This is the Fourth Age.” Míriel smiled proudly.
First was the births of Eldarion and Aderthon. Aderthon’s birth was surrounded with every famous heraldic device he was related to: Fëanor, Fingolfin, Finarfin, Ingwë, Finwë, Olwë, Thingol, Haleth, Bëor, and Hador. Under his name was the translation: Reuniter. Eldarion’s was almost as impressive, with images of Luthien and Beren and Aragorn and Arwen surrounding him.
Next were the births of the daughters: Amdirien, Estelwen, and Sídhil for Aragorn, and Círeth, Fëalas, and Tinneth for Elrohir. The wildness of Tinneth was featured in a few small tapestries. The peace making with Harad by Míril and her husband, diplomats in the early Fourth Age. Then, finally, the Second Fellowship and their journey North. This included the betrayal of Tinneth, her betrothal to Halion, and her training of the Angmarins. Other, more heroic panels there were too. Tapestries of Eldarion and Aderthon’s leadership skills, the hunting prowess of the twin sisters, and finally, the battle. Each man or woman had a panel, but the death of Tinneth by Aderthon’s hand was at the forefront, alongside the death of Estelwen, daughter of Aragorn. The final tapestry was the sailing of Elladan, Elrohir, and Míril to the Undying Lands, and the return of Aragorn to Minas Tirith.
Maglor smiled. “I came often to see these,” he said. “Míriel, you do amazing work.”
“As do I,” Fingon added quickly. “It allows me to remember.”
“Thank you.” She bowed her head with a small smile.
Vairë brought them back to the Hall of Stories soon after this, explaining that Isilmo was waiting for them outside the Halls.
“It seems as though you're presence is being requested in Ilmarin.” She smiled. “It had been a pleasure.” She bowed to them.
“Thank you, my lady!” Míril bowed deeply to the Vala. “May I return?”
Vairë smiled and placed a hand on her cheek, raising her head. “My child, I insist it.”
Maglor and Fingon decided to journey with them to Ilmarin. They said something about going to the Theatre.
“Theater?” Elrohir looked skeptically. “Why?”
Fingon looked at him like he was crazy. “My dear Elrohir, if you must ask the question, you have clearly never been to a good play.”
And so together they left to find Isilmo out on the plains. Elladan, Elrohir, and Fingon were debating plays while Maglor merely walked beside Míril, both lost in thought. It had been a crazy day, and now that night had come, she wondered just how much crazier it would get.