Road to Redemption
folder
+Third Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
24
Views:
2,303
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+Third Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
24
Views:
2,303
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
All characters and locations are the sole property of Professor Tolkien and his estate. I do not own LOTR and this is written only for pleasure and not for profit, no money is made
Chapter 21-
Road to Redemption (21-22/50)
Author: Gwaelinn
Beta: BookofNicodemus
Pairings: Lindir/Maglor
Rating: R (NC-17 overall)
Warnings: images of violence, Slash (m/m),
Time line: AU (not really connected to the actual timeline of the books)
Disclaimer: All characters and locations are the sole property of Professor Tolkien’s Estate. This is written only for pleasure and not for profit.
Author notes: The little plot bunny popped up while listening to Loreena McKennit’s The Old Ways. Somehow, the song just screamed ‘Maglor’.
**Additional Author’s note: I know that according to canon, Maedhros, Maglor, and the twins were the ones who attacked Elwing’s town. However, I need to take some liberties. In my universe, the twins were killed in the attack on Doriath. Celegorm, Curufin, Caranthir, Maedhros and Maglor survived. The plan to attack the haven at Sirion was Curufin’s. Maglor and Maedhros were reluctant followers. In my little world, Celegrom, Curufin and Caranthir perished during the last attempt to take the gems…leaving Maglor and Maedhros with the stones. I’m also going with the idea that Elrond/Elros were about 6 at the time of the sack. I’ve also made them about 16 when they were left behind the waterfall to be found.
Chapter 21
*Thwack*
*Thwack- thwack*
Arrow after arrow hit its mark. Glorfindel was not sure exactly why he was so upset. He and Ecthelion had been lovers, but they were not bound; and looking back at things now, the warrior doubted that they would have become so. Ecthelion was bold and outgoing; far more than Glorfindel had been. His pitch hair and deep sapphire eyes turned many heads and he had had numerous lovers before the golden warrior. Glorfindel’s father died before he reached his majority. Once Glorfindel turned fifty, the leadership of the house fell on his shoulders. Glorfindel always admired Ecthelion, the dark-haired warrior a good 300 years his elder. He soon went to Ecthelion for advice and friendship. In time his body demanded its pleasure, and Ecthelion was more than willing to enlighten the beautiful warrior. So the years passed and the two were always together. This was due largely to Glorfindel’s infatuation with the other.
Ecthelion was the life of the party. He was never at a loss for words…actually, he rarely shut-up. He wooed both ellyth and ellon. It was every parent's dream for their son or daughter to become the great warrior’s mate. There was never a dull moment with Ecthelion around; not much privacy either. There were times when Glorfindel did not want to be in the limelight. There were times when he just wanted to sit and play chess, or talk by the fire. However, that was not the life for Ecthelion. The Lord of the Fountain was a great warrior, an excellent leader of his house and all around fun elf, but not keen on the mental stuff. Glorfindel did not think his lover would have been able to set up a chessboard, and as far as intellectual stimulation, well... Ecthelion left that for his advisors to handle.
*Thwap, thwack*
The warrior glared at the target. He wondered if this ‘new’ love began before the fall or just in the halls.
*Thwap*
Glorfindel became angry at himself for being so naive about it all. Well, he could not dwell on the matter as Namo had instructed him to look after a newly returned elf. He wondered who it was, and when they would arrive.
“You know, while a bull’s eye is good, splitting half you arrows is not.”
Glorfindel looked up and gave Haldir a half-smile.
“And just how have I come to merit the honor of your witty presence this morning?”
Haldir and his brothers leaned against some trees. “I was wondering if you knew anything about the elf Elrohir found. He looked in bad condition.” As arrogant as Haldir could be, there was genuine concern in his voice.
“No. Elrond had a guard placed at the door and someone is to be with him at all times.”
“Seems a little much, do you not think?” Rumil questioned. Orophin reached over and cuffed the back of his head. “Ow! That hurt.” The middle brother just shook his head and Haldir tried to ignore both of them.
“I was going to stop by when I was done…”
“Killing those dangerous arrows?” Rumil piped in. This time Haldir hit him. “Ow!!”
Glorfindel chuckled, “I needed this little interruption.” He picked up his quiver, and Orophin headed to the target to retrieve any arrows that might have survived. Quiver and bow in hand, the golden warrior headed back to the main house with the three brothers. Once in the main courtyard, Glorfindel bid the brothers goodbye and headed to the healing wing. Haldir joined the patrol that was nearly ready to leave. Rumil headed for the kitchens hoping to sweet-talk his way to some sweets. Orophin watched Glorfindel go. Something was off with the warrior, of that he was certain.
******
Maedhros felt heavy, and his body felt hot. He quickly realized that he was back in the physical world. After much concentration, he was able to get his eyes to open. He had no idea where Namo had deposited him. Carefully turning his head a bit, he was grateful to see an elf at his bedside…especially so beautiful an elf. So, he was in an elven community, which was a good start. Now if he could just get this mouth to work.
Erestor glanced up at his charge. It had been two days and the elf had yet to wake. A small squeak came out when he saw a pair of mahogany colored eyes staring back at him.
“You are awake!” The advisor stated. “It has been two days.” Erestor stood and called the healer. “Fetch Lord Elrond. Our guest is awake.” Returning to the bedside, he poured a glass of water. “Here, can you sip this?” Erestor sat on the side of the bed and carefully helped Maedhros to lift his head. The returned warrior closed his eyes at the sensation. It has been so very long. “Are you in much pain? Lord Elrond will be here soon and will be able to give you a draught.” The injured elf lay back with a small smile gracing his fair features. Lord Elrond, it could only be his little one.
Elrond glided into the room. Looking at the mahogany eyes, he could not help the gasp that escaped. “It is you,” he said softly as he advanced. “I never thought…” Elrond was interrupted by a small sob as tears began to wet his eyes. He knelt next to the bed and lifted his hand to stroke the soft tresses. “How?” was all he could manage.
“Shhh…my darkling. It is a long story that can wait.” Maedhros chocked out as he lifted a hand to stroke the Noldo’s cheek. The movement caused some unexpected pain and he winced. That was all it took to return Elrond to healer mode.
“Aye, how thoughtless. Here, drink this. It will numb the pain a bit while I change your bandages. Erestor, I will need your help to roll Maedhros over.” Elrond did not realize what he said, but a certain golden warrior at the door did.
Glorfindel turned and sank on to the bench in the hall. It was a lucky thing it was right outside the doorway or the warrior would have ended up on the floor. Glorfindel dropped his head into his hands and let out a troubled sigh. “Of all people,” he muttered. He felt his life was about make a drastic change.
Chapter 22
“My lord?” Glorfindel looked up slightly. “Are you well? Has something happened to the elf?”
Glorfindel shook his head and sighed, “No.” He dropped his head back into his hands, elbows resting on his knees
Orophin waited for more but it never came. Steeling himself for an encounter, he sat next to the golden one. “Yet something troubles you greatly. Is there any way I can help?”
Glorfindel looked sideways at the young elf from his and gave a halfhearted smile. “Thank you, penneth, but no. I’m afraid it’s a bit,” he paused hunting for the right words. “Well, sort of personal is all.”
The silver haired elf leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath. It seemed so unlike Glorfindel to be in such a mood, and with resolve, Orophin offered a small bit of advise that had worked for him in the past. “I do not mean to pry, my lord, but it often helps to talk to a stranger who has no biases. It is similar to talking to your self actually, there is just someone else to offer comfort or advice.”
Sitting up and looking thoughtfully at the Silvan, Glorfindel could not stop the smile that crept over his face. “You speak as if you know this to be true.”
“Aye, I lost a close friend some 50 years back; Legolas of Greenwood was in Lorien for diplomatic reasons. At the time I did not know who he was when he offered to listen. I finally let it all out and came to grips with the situation. I was, mind you, mortified when I finally learned *who* he was, but a friendship developed non the less.”
“How old are you, penneth?” Glorfindel eyed the younger elf.
A sweet blush crept over Orophin’s face. “Three hundred twenty-four. I know I have lived little but, if you should want to talk, I will be on the archery field for a while, and then in the library.” The slim elf stood to leave. “All is well with the elf?” He nodded toward the room.
Glorfindel nodded, “Yes.” As Orophin walked away, the golden warrior stared after him, amazed at the wisdom in one so young.
******
Erestor stood motionless. Had he heard correctly? Looking up from the bedside, expectantly, Elrond prodded, “Erestor?” The advisor quickly moved to the far side of the bed and helped the injured elf roll onto his side. He began to talk soothing nonsense when a grimace of pain distorted the strong features. Slowly Elrond tended to the burned skin. His hands trembled as he worked; his mind awhirl with questions. Once his patient was re-bandaged and lying as comfortable as could be expected, he sat on the side of the bed and stared lovingly at one of the most important elves in his life.
Erestor cleared his throat, “Um, my lord, should I perhaps fetch Lindir?”
Looking up the elf lord smiled softly with understanding. “Yes, please. Bring both back.”
Giving a little bow, Elrond's chief advisor left the room.
Elrond just stared and stroked Maedhros’ thick hair. “I do not understand and nor do I really care,” he began, “I am just happy to see you again. I thought you were lost to me forever.” The elf lord’s voice was barely a whisper.
The reborn elf did his best to smile. “I have missed you so. I wanted to return for you, but the jewel drove me mad with regret. You deserved better than a broken elf for a father. I hoped Maglor returned for you. I know now that he did not. I am so sorry we left you alone.” Silent tears rolled down his cheeks giving new meaning to the adage, ‘rubbing salt into a wound.’
Elrond lifted a teacup and helped the older elf to drink its contents. “This will ease the pain and help with the healing of the skin.”
“I now understand Namo’s words to me. I can live with these scars, as long as I have you.”
“The scars will heal in no time.” Elrond stopped, not knowing how to broach the subject, he wavered before continuing. “I am not the only one you have. Someone else has come, who will be equally happy to see you.”
“I know. Varie let me see what I have missed. I am proud of you, pen dithin. So very proud.”
A knock at the door interrupted them and Elrond rose to the door. “Give me a moment,” he said as he slipped out.
*********
After seeing Erestor rush by him, Glorfindel got up and headed back to his rooms to think. He had never met any of Feanor’s sons, but he had learned a lot about them.
Simiril aside, Maedhros was renown for his military tactics and skill in battle, and was a natural-born leader. Maedhros the Tall, Maedhros the One Handed; the names said it all. Glorfindel sighed as he reached the door to his chambers. He did not enter though - he was far to distressed. Maedhros was millennia older than he and had far more experience in battle and defense than Glorfindel did. In addition, he was considered a father to his lord. The golden warrior’s shoulders slumped. This was not good. He thought Namo wanted him to be the protector of Elrond and his family. Had he somehow failed? Of course he did. Had Celebrian not been attacked and forced to sail? He failed, and that explained everything. Ecthelion certainly would not want a lover who failed at so important a task, and Elrond obviously needed a new protector. The only question now, was what was Glorfindel to do? He was supposed to help Maedhros adjust, but…
Glorfindel found his legs taking him to, of all places, the library.
********
Elrond met Lindir and Maglor in the hall. Neither elf could read his expression nor imagine what he wanted. Taking a deep sigh, Elrond indicated for them to sit. Both complied with great concern on their faces. “I do not really know what to say,” Elrond floundered, something highly unusual for the great Lord.
Giving an encouraging smile, Maglor said, “Just speak what must be said. Obviously, something is off. How can we help?”
“Is this about the injured elf?” Lindir asked. Elrond nodded slowly but gave no other answer. “Has he…?” Lindir really did not want to finish for if Elrond could not save the elf, it would devastate him. Ever since Celebrian, Arda’s finest healer had doubted himself.
“Ahh, no. He lives. It is just, I... I know who he is and I do not know how to tell you.” Neither of the other elves knew for certain whom he was addressing so Maglor made the decision for the others. Standing, he took Lindir by the hand and went to the door. Looking back at Elrond, who also stood, he quietly opened the door and let Lindir enter first.
Lindir certainly did not know the elf resting on the bed, but he heard his lover gasp behind him. The elf on the bed opened his eyes at that moment. Lindir was struck by the unusual color… a rich shade of mahogany, a dark cinnamon.
Letting go of Lindir’s hand, Maglor advanced slowly, as if approaching a frightened animal. Elrond stood at the door and watched, tears flowing freely.
“Brother?” Maglor whispered. The elf on the bed just smiled lovingly. Maglor’s eyes went wide and he lunged for the bed. Lindir stood in the middle of the room looking from one elf to the other, then behind him to Elrond. The young minstrel was extremely confused.
“Maedhros! It is you! I do not understand. How? Oh, I have missed you so. Please tell me I am not dreaming.” By this point, Maedhros found his arms filled with a trembling elf. He chuckled. Maglor might have been second oldest, but he had a young spirit. Maedhros was glad that had not changed. Lindir stalked closer and sat in the bedside chair as Elrond came to stand at the foot of the bed.
“You are not dreaming,” the Imladran Lord said. “He has returned to us.” Maglor looked up with glistening eyes. This was second-best day of his life. He looked around the room and realized he had his whole family with him. He was no longer alone and he never would be again. Burying his head in his big brother's shoulder, he said exactly what he felt. “I love you.”
Author: Gwaelinn
Beta: BookofNicodemus
Pairings: Lindir/Maglor
Rating: R (NC-17 overall)
Warnings: images of violence, Slash (m/m),
Time line: AU (not really connected to the actual timeline of the books)
Disclaimer: All characters and locations are the sole property of Professor Tolkien’s Estate. This is written only for pleasure and not for profit.
Author notes: The little plot bunny popped up while listening to Loreena McKennit’s The Old Ways. Somehow, the song just screamed ‘Maglor’.
**Additional Author’s note: I know that according to canon, Maedhros, Maglor, and the twins were the ones who attacked Elwing’s town. However, I need to take some liberties. In my universe, the twins were killed in the attack on Doriath. Celegorm, Curufin, Caranthir, Maedhros and Maglor survived. The plan to attack the haven at Sirion was Curufin’s. Maglor and Maedhros were reluctant followers. In my little world, Celegrom, Curufin and Caranthir perished during the last attempt to take the gems…leaving Maglor and Maedhros with the stones. I’m also going with the idea that Elrond/Elros were about 6 at the time of the sack. I’ve also made them about 16 when they were left behind the waterfall to be found.
Chapter 21
*Thwack*
*Thwack- thwack*
Arrow after arrow hit its mark. Glorfindel was not sure exactly why he was so upset. He and Ecthelion had been lovers, but they were not bound; and looking back at things now, the warrior doubted that they would have become so. Ecthelion was bold and outgoing; far more than Glorfindel had been. His pitch hair and deep sapphire eyes turned many heads and he had had numerous lovers before the golden warrior. Glorfindel’s father died before he reached his majority. Once Glorfindel turned fifty, the leadership of the house fell on his shoulders. Glorfindel always admired Ecthelion, the dark-haired warrior a good 300 years his elder. He soon went to Ecthelion for advice and friendship. In time his body demanded its pleasure, and Ecthelion was more than willing to enlighten the beautiful warrior. So the years passed and the two were always together. This was due largely to Glorfindel’s infatuation with the other.
Ecthelion was the life of the party. He was never at a loss for words…actually, he rarely shut-up. He wooed both ellyth and ellon. It was every parent's dream for their son or daughter to become the great warrior’s mate. There was never a dull moment with Ecthelion around; not much privacy either. There were times when Glorfindel did not want to be in the limelight. There were times when he just wanted to sit and play chess, or talk by the fire. However, that was not the life for Ecthelion. The Lord of the Fountain was a great warrior, an excellent leader of his house and all around fun elf, but not keen on the mental stuff. Glorfindel did not think his lover would have been able to set up a chessboard, and as far as intellectual stimulation, well... Ecthelion left that for his advisors to handle.
*Thwap, thwack*
The warrior glared at the target. He wondered if this ‘new’ love began before the fall or just in the halls.
*Thwap*
Glorfindel became angry at himself for being so naive about it all. Well, he could not dwell on the matter as Namo had instructed him to look after a newly returned elf. He wondered who it was, and when they would arrive.
“You know, while a bull’s eye is good, splitting half you arrows is not.”
Glorfindel looked up and gave Haldir a half-smile.
“And just how have I come to merit the honor of your witty presence this morning?”
Haldir and his brothers leaned against some trees. “I was wondering if you knew anything about the elf Elrohir found. He looked in bad condition.” As arrogant as Haldir could be, there was genuine concern in his voice.
“No. Elrond had a guard placed at the door and someone is to be with him at all times.”
“Seems a little much, do you not think?” Rumil questioned. Orophin reached over and cuffed the back of his head. “Ow! That hurt.” The middle brother just shook his head and Haldir tried to ignore both of them.
“I was going to stop by when I was done…”
“Killing those dangerous arrows?” Rumil piped in. This time Haldir hit him. “Ow!!”
Glorfindel chuckled, “I needed this little interruption.” He picked up his quiver, and Orophin headed to the target to retrieve any arrows that might have survived. Quiver and bow in hand, the golden warrior headed back to the main house with the three brothers. Once in the main courtyard, Glorfindel bid the brothers goodbye and headed to the healing wing. Haldir joined the patrol that was nearly ready to leave. Rumil headed for the kitchens hoping to sweet-talk his way to some sweets. Orophin watched Glorfindel go. Something was off with the warrior, of that he was certain.
******
Maedhros felt heavy, and his body felt hot. He quickly realized that he was back in the physical world. After much concentration, he was able to get his eyes to open. He had no idea where Namo had deposited him. Carefully turning his head a bit, he was grateful to see an elf at his bedside…especially so beautiful an elf. So, he was in an elven community, which was a good start. Now if he could just get this mouth to work.
Erestor glanced up at his charge. It had been two days and the elf had yet to wake. A small squeak came out when he saw a pair of mahogany colored eyes staring back at him.
“You are awake!” The advisor stated. “It has been two days.” Erestor stood and called the healer. “Fetch Lord Elrond. Our guest is awake.” Returning to the bedside, he poured a glass of water. “Here, can you sip this?” Erestor sat on the side of the bed and carefully helped Maedhros to lift his head. The returned warrior closed his eyes at the sensation. It has been so very long. “Are you in much pain? Lord Elrond will be here soon and will be able to give you a draught.” The injured elf lay back with a small smile gracing his fair features. Lord Elrond, it could only be his little one.
Elrond glided into the room. Looking at the mahogany eyes, he could not help the gasp that escaped. “It is you,” he said softly as he advanced. “I never thought…” Elrond was interrupted by a small sob as tears began to wet his eyes. He knelt next to the bed and lifted his hand to stroke the soft tresses. “How?” was all he could manage.
“Shhh…my darkling. It is a long story that can wait.” Maedhros chocked out as he lifted a hand to stroke the Noldo’s cheek. The movement caused some unexpected pain and he winced. That was all it took to return Elrond to healer mode.
“Aye, how thoughtless. Here, drink this. It will numb the pain a bit while I change your bandages. Erestor, I will need your help to roll Maedhros over.” Elrond did not realize what he said, but a certain golden warrior at the door did.
Glorfindel turned and sank on to the bench in the hall. It was a lucky thing it was right outside the doorway or the warrior would have ended up on the floor. Glorfindel dropped his head into his hands and let out a troubled sigh. “Of all people,” he muttered. He felt his life was about make a drastic change.
Chapter 22
“My lord?” Glorfindel looked up slightly. “Are you well? Has something happened to the elf?”
Glorfindel shook his head and sighed, “No.” He dropped his head back into his hands, elbows resting on his knees
Orophin waited for more but it never came. Steeling himself for an encounter, he sat next to the golden one. “Yet something troubles you greatly. Is there any way I can help?”
Glorfindel looked sideways at the young elf from his and gave a halfhearted smile. “Thank you, penneth, but no. I’m afraid it’s a bit,” he paused hunting for the right words. “Well, sort of personal is all.”
The silver haired elf leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath. It seemed so unlike Glorfindel to be in such a mood, and with resolve, Orophin offered a small bit of advise that had worked for him in the past. “I do not mean to pry, my lord, but it often helps to talk to a stranger who has no biases. It is similar to talking to your self actually, there is just someone else to offer comfort or advice.”
Sitting up and looking thoughtfully at the Silvan, Glorfindel could not stop the smile that crept over his face. “You speak as if you know this to be true.”
“Aye, I lost a close friend some 50 years back; Legolas of Greenwood was in Lorien for diplomatic reasons. At the time I did not know who he was when he offered to listen. I finally let it all out and came to grips with the situation. I was, mind you, mortified when I finally learned *who* he was, but a friendship developed non the less.”
“How old are you, penneth?” Glorfindel eyed the younger elf.
A sweet blush crept over Orophin’s face. “Three hundred twenty-four. I know I have lived little but, if you should want to talk, I will be on the archery field for a while, and then in the library.” The slim elf stood to leave. “All is well with the elf?” He nodded toward the room.
Glorfindel nodded, “Yes.” As Orophin walked away, the golden warrior stared after him, amazed at the wisdom in one so young.
******
Erestor stood motionless. Had he heard correctly? Looking up from the bedside, expectantly, Elrond prodded, “Erestor?” The advisor quickly moved to the far side of the bed and helped the injured elf roll onto his side. He began to talk soothing nonsense when a grimace of pain distorted the strong features. Slowly Elrond tended to the burned skin. His hands trembled as he worked; his mind awhirl with questions. Once his patient was re-bandaged and lying as comfortable as could be expected, he sat on the side of the bed and stared lovingly at one of the most important elves in his life.
Erestor cleared his throat, “Um, my lord, should I perhaps fetch Lindir?”
Looking up the elf lord smiled softly with understanding. “Yes, please. Bring both back.”
Giving a little bow, Elrond's chief advisor left the room.
Elrond just stared and stroked Maedhros’ thick hair. “I do not understand and nor do I really care,” he began, “I am just happy to see you again. I thought you were lost to me forever.” The elf lord’s voice was barely a whisper.
The reborn elf did his best to smile. “I have missed you so. I wanted to return for you, but the jewel drove me mad with regret. You deserved better than a broken elf for a father. I hoped Maglor returned for you. I know now that he did not. I am so sorry we left you alone.” Silent tears rolled down his cheeks giving new meaning to the adage, ‘rubbing salt into a wound.’
Elrond lifted a teacup and helped the older elf to drink its contents. “This will ease the pain and help with the healing of the skin.”
“I now understand Namo’s words to me. I can live with these scars, as long as I have you.”
“The scars will heal in no time.” Elrond stopped, not knowing how to broach the subject, he wavered before continuing. “I am not the only one you have. Someone else has come, who will be equally happy to see you.”
“I know. Varie let me see what I have missed. I am proud of you, pen dithin. So very proud.”
A knock at the door interrupted them and Elrond rose to the door. “Give me a moment,” he said as he slipped out.
*********
After seeing Erestor rush by him, Glorfindel got up and headed back to his rooms to think. He had never met any of Feanor’s sons, but he had learned a lot about them.
Simiril aside, Maedhros was renown for his military tactics and skill in battle, and was a natural-born leader. Maedhros the Tall, Maedhros the One Handed; the names said it all. Glorfindel sighed as he reached the door to his chambers. He did not enter though - he was far to distressed. Maedhros was millennia older than he and had far more experience in battle and defense than Glorfindel did. In addition, he was considered a father to his lord. The golden warrior’s shoulders slumped. This was not good. He thought Namo wanted him to be the protector of Elrond and his family. Had he somehow failed? Of course he did. Had Celebrian not been attacked and forced to sail? He failed, and that explained everything. Ecthelion certainly would not want a lover who failed at so important a task, and Elrond obviously needed a new protector. The only question now, was what was Glorfindel to do? He was supposed to help Maedhros adjust, but…
Glorfindel found his legs taking him to, of all places, the library.
********
Elrond met Lindir and Maglor in the hall. Neither elf could read his expression nor imagine what he wanted. Taking a deep sigh, Elrond indicated for them to sit. Both complied with great concern on their faces. “I do not really know what to say,” Elrond floundered, something highly unusual for the great Lord.
Giving an encouraging smile, Maglor said, “Just speak what must be said. Obviously, something is off. How can we help?”
“Is this about the injured elf?” Lindir asked. Elrond nodded slowly but gave no other answer. “Has he…?” Lindir really did not want to finish for if Elrond could not save the elf, it would devastate him. Ever since Celebrian, Arda’s finest healer had doubted himself.
“Ahh, no. He lives. It is just, I... I know who he is and I do not know how to tell you.” Neither of the other elves knew for certain whom he was addressing so Maglor made the decision for the others. Standing, he took Lindir by the hand and went to the door. Looking back at Elrond, who also stood, he quietly opened the door and let Lindir enter first.
Lindir certainly did not know the elf resting on the bed, but he heard his lover gasp behind him. The elf on the bed opened his eyes at that moment. Lindir was struck by the unusual color… a rich shade of mahogany, a dark cinnamon.
Letting go of Lindir’s hand, Maglor advanced slowly, as if approaching a frightened animal. Elrond stood at the door and watched, tears flowing freely.
“Brother?” Maglor whispered. The elf on the bed just smiled lovingly. Maglor’s eyes went wide and he lunged for the bed. Lindir stood in the middle of the room looking from one elf to the other, then behind him to Elrond. The young minstrel was extremely confused.
“Maedhros! It is you! I do not understand. How? Oh, I have missed you so. Please tell me I am not dreaming.” By this point, Maedhros found his arms filled with a trembling elf. He chuckled. Maglor might have been second oldest, but he had a young spirit. Maedhros was glad that had not changed. Lindir stalked closer and sat in the bedside chair as Elrond came to stand at the foot of the bed.
“You are not dreaming,” the Imladran Lord said. “He has returned to us.” Maglor looked up with glistening eyes. This was second-best day of his life. He looked around the room and realized he had his whole family with him. He was no longer alone and he never would be again. Burying his head in his big brother's shoulder, he said exactly what he felt. “I love you.”