6. Chapter 5
Maglor bolted upright, panting and drenched in sweat. What was happening to him, and why now? For over 6000 years he had sequestered himself from the Elven population (and most of the Edain). He could not remember the last time anyone showed him any kind of affection… actually, that was not true. He did remember. It was a hug, and sweet kiss on the cheek from a little Elrond before he returned to his people. Maglor touched his cheek and silent tears slipped down his cheeks…so long ago…
Standing abruptly and wiping his nose on his sleeve in a most un-elf like manner, the Noldo began to pace. Why the dream? How could Irmo be so cruel! It had felt so real. A hand caressing his body, lips kissing him with gentle passion. Feeling filled, protected, and loved. It had been an incredible dream; a painful one upon waking. 6000 years was a long time to go without intimate or even just affectionate contact. Not that he could not have bedded someone, there were plenty of Edain, male and female, who gladly offered him their bed when he came to the village for supplies. It was not in his nature, though, to have casual relations just to satisfy an itch. It never had been. Maedhros had always teased him about it. Maglor smiled at the memory of his brother, then sank to the floor and wept. Wept for all he had lost, and all he would never have.
Lindir set out early the morning after speaking with the Edain family. He was a little sorry to go; he liked them. With a filled water skin and fresh bread, cheese, and fruit, Lindir followed the coastline south. The man said that it would take about 3 days to reach the cove. Lindir decided to make the journey in two. He knew he was close and the anticipation overwhelmed him. He made good time to the next village. After careful inquiries, he found the home of the Callia's kin.
"Yes?" A woman asked through the door
"I have been sent here by your kin." Lindir replied
Opening the door a bit, the woman peered out and gasped. "You be one of them, ain't cha?"
"One of whom, my lady?" Lindir asked.
"Them fair folk. The kind that saved the little one."
"Yes. I was told your child could tell me where to find the one who saved her kin." Lindir noticed the indecision in the woman. After a long moment, she opened the door.
"Please," she welcomed him. "My husband is on the boat and shan't return till dusk. If he finds ya here, he'll be most unpleased."
Standing just in the threshold, Lindir spoke. "I do not mean to cause strife. Just point in the cove's direction and I shall be on my way."
The woman smiled. "No, wouldn't be proper ta send ya out without a bit of hospitality. Come, have a seat. I'll fetch my little one."
Lindir sat on a bench at the table and waited. Soon he heard footsteps. Looking up, the minstrel spied a pair of green eyes peeking around her mother's skirt.
"Go on, love. Tell 'im what happened."
"But mamma, papa said 'twas my 'magination."
"Jist tell 'im the story, child."
The small girl stood before Lindir, and cocked her head. "He be like you, but sad and dark. He pulled her from the sea and set her on the sand where my brother and me could find her. I saw him again when I wandered away from my brother while we were gathering crayfish." The girl looked sheepishly at her mother. "I done spied on 'im…he caught me though an' told me to go home then he turned about an' went back 'twards the cove. "
Taking the girl's hands in his, Lindir asked, "Were you not frightened of the stranger?"
"Naw," the girl replied, "he had kind eyes. I knew he be the singer the sailors hear. They say he's bad but I know better. He's jist," here she thought for a moment. "jist sad, and maybe a little scared."
"Thank you little one, you have helped me greatly. Only one more thing: can you tell me where the cove is? Where the 'singer' is?"
The girl looked to her mother. The woman pointed out the window. "'Tis about half a days walk in that direction. You be coming to a bluff, ya can see it from there."
Lindir stood, thanked the woman and continued his journey. True to her word, by late afternoon, Lindir had reached the bluff. There was no doubt that it was the correct bluff for he could hear a haunting song on the wind. Looking south he spotted a lone figure on the end of a rock jetty. Maglor!
Lindir nearly fell down the bluff in his haste. Reaching the bottom, the minstrel calmed himself. 'Easy Lindir,' he thought, 'do not spook him.' Lindir gathered his wits, took a deep breath and headed for the jetty.
The clouds obscured the sun and a chilled wind blew off the sea. Maglor wrapped his arms around his middle, more for comfort than to ward off the chill. Closing his eyes, Maglor lifted his voice in song. Lindir stopped for a moment when he recognized the melody. The Imladrian minstrel's heart ached at the mournful sound. So sad, yet so beautiful. Lindir could feel Maglor's guilt, pain and regret in every strain. The minstrel continued forward, stopping at the junction of the beach and the jetty. Maglor made no indication of knowing he was there. Leaving his pack and weapons behind, Lindir carefully climbed onto the jetty and slowly moved forward. The minstrel stopped some 10 feet from Maglor and waited.
Maglor finished his lament and hung his head. A fluttering sound caught his attention and he turned abruptly. What he saw stunned him. The two elves stared at one another, both in an odd sense of shock.
Lindir blinked in disbelief. Never had he seen so beautiful an elf. Many called Lord Erestor exotic, with his dark hair and eyes, but the advisor was nothing when compared to the vision before him. Maglor was tall, and willowy. His hair was so dark an ebony that Lindir thought it must rival the darkness of the Great Void. It held no red or blue sheen. It was pure, endless, black and it fell in soft waves to the small of Maglor's back. The ancient eyes were a stormy gray, fathomless. Lindir could lose himself forever in the piercing gaze, but the remorse and loneliness he saw there pained him. The young minstrel swallowed the lump in his throat, opened his mouth to speak, then shut it…what could he say? Before him stood the epitome of the Noldor, and the greatest bard ever.
Maglor paled, and the words he thought to speak fled him. Before him stood a ellon with hair the color of polished silver; it was near white in its brightness. Innocent periwinkle eyes locked with his. Young, scared, expectant eyes; Maglor had never seen such expressive eyes. Not even Elrond's showed so much. There was no doubt in his mind, before him stood a Teleri…the victim of his terrible crime. Maglor squared his shoulders and found his voice.
"I wondered when one of you would come to extract revenge," he said coolly.
Lindir just stared and tried to process the words he heard.
"I have no right to ask for mercy, so I shall not; however, please be quick…I have suffered these past 6000 years. Send me to Namo's judgment."
The young minstrel shook his head to clear away the cobwebs. "You think…you think I came to kill you?" He questioned in disbelief. "Why?"
"You are Teleri. I know you know who I am. I was there when your people," here his voice choked, and taking a deep breath he plowed on, "when your people were murdered at the hands of the Noldor."
Lindir's eyes went wide. He never thought how the presence of a Teleri would affect Maglor. Lindir never saw elves as Teleri, Noldor, Silvin or such. After all, he served in the court of a Noldor and trained with a Vanya. His best friends were Silvan elves from Lothlorien.
"You believe I am here for vengeance?" A look of utter disbelief crossed Lindir's face.
Maglor bowed his head again. "No, you are no kinslayer. I can see it in your eyes." Maglor looked up and focused on the entrancing eyes before him. "Still, you are here for a reason."
"I wish to learn from you."
Now it was Maglor's turn to be stunned. "Excuse me?" He asked, sure he had heard wrong.
Lindir took a tentative step forward. "I said I wish to learn from you. I am a minstrel, and I wish learn from the best."
Maglor walked briskly past the silver elf and replied, "Then your journey was for naught; you will return to your people and forget you ever found me."
Lindir quickly followed the retreating figure. "It is too late to travel now," he called. "I am afraid you are stuck with me until morning." He finished with a smile. Maglor stopped in his tracks and turned to his 'guest'.
"You would stay the night in the company of a Kinslayer?"
"No." Linder answered as he walked past the stunned elf. "I would stay the night in the company of a fellow elf." With that he picked up his things and headed toward the fire pit. Maglor just stared after him. The young one could not be serious!