Road to Redemption

Redemption (23-24/50)
Author: Gwaelinn
Beta: BookofNicodemus
Pairings: Lindir/Maglor, others
Rating: NC-17-R 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.


A/N: In my world, Glorfindel and Maedhros did not meet in Aman. Glorfindel was not born in Aman…he got the ‘Light’ when he was remade there before he returned to Arda. I know this is really off, but I need it to make this story go the way I want.

Chapter 23

Glorfindel slipped silently into the library. He could not fathom why he was seeking out the Galadhrim. He certainly had no desire to share his failures with a stranger. Still, he needed to speak to him, and quickly. He slowly walked towards the silver head just visible over the back of an armchair.


Feeling someone approach, Orophin stood and turned, a smile crossing his face. The smile dimmed as he took in the dejected looking elf lord.

“Does the offer still stand?”

In response, the younger elf set his book aside and motioned to the doors that lead to a small courtyard. Glorfindel followed him out. Once it was clear they were alone, Orophin sat on a stone bench and looked at the warrior expectantly. Glorfindel ran a hand over his face and sighed.

“I have no idea where or how to start. I am not really sure why I sought you out.”

With a gentle smile the young elf replied, “Just imagine you are talking to yourself. I will not interrupt.”

“Well, it started a few days ago,” Glorfindel began as he took to pacing. “I got…well, I mean Namo…Oh Mordor! You will think I'm crazy. Never mind, I should not have distu…”

“My lord, you are troubled and that concerns me greatly. Never have I known anything to rattle you. Please, let me help.” For some unknown reason the golden lord could not deny the Silvan and furthermore, he found he did not want to.

“Namo came to see me.” He paused to see the younger elf’s reaction; there wasn't one, so he continued. “He told me that…” Should he mention Ecthelion? No, that had nothing to do with his problem. “…a warrior would be returned and that I was to help him get acclimated to his new life. He did not tell me who it was, only that I would know when the time was right. Well, I now know who it is and I am afraid that it can only mean that I am to be replaced.”

At that Orophin gasped, “Surely you are mistaken! Why would that happen?”

Glorfindel was a bit taken aback by the archer’s adamant behavior. The golden elf continued, “You already know that Maglor was returned.” It was more of a statement. “Namo has seen fit to return Maedhros as well.”

Orophin could not help the dumb-founded stare on his face. That was not what he expected to hear. “Continue,” he said softly.

Glorfindel sighed. “I am to help one of the greatest warriors, strategists, and leaders of all time become re-acquainted with this world. I can only assume that he was sent back to complete the task I failed at.”

Now the young elf was completely at a loss. Failed? Failed at what, how? These questions raced through his head. Everyone who met the golden warrior held him in the highest regard. Surely the old warrior did not think the fall of Gondolin was his fault.


******

Erestor stood in the shadow of the doorframe, watching the scene before him. He had not see his lord so happy in decades; it took years off the elf. He could not help that his eyes were drawn to the reclining elf. He had learned the history as an elfling; there were sketches and a few paintings of the legendary son of Feanor, but they paled in comparison to the actual being. Not wanting to interrupt the ‘family’ moment, he silently slipped out the door, unnoticed…well, nearly unnoticed. A pair of mahogany eyes followed the silent elf.

Maedhros lost himself in thought as his family fussed over him. He wondered about the elf. When he first woke and saw the young elf, he could not help but admire the blue-black hair and intelligent eyes. He knew the elf…Erestor, that is what Elrond had called him…held a position of some power. The healers certainly hustled when he was about, and Elrond had enlisted his help instead of one of the other healers.

“Elrond?” His voice sounded so odd to his ears.

The elf lord stopped the fluffing of Maedhros’ pillows. “What do you need? Are you hungry, perhaps a light meal?"

Maedhros raised an eyebrow. Lindir smirked as he realized where his lord learned that technique. The minstrel must have inadvertently made a sound because he soon found himself the center of attraction. He could not hold the chuckle back as three eyebrows quirked up.

“Forgive me my lord,” he stammered, “it’s just the, umm...” He pointed to his eyebrow. Maedhros’ rich laugh filled the room and lilted out the window, stopping Erestor in his tracks. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. Elrond’s advisor let out a little sigh.

Back in the room, Lindir thought it a good time to leave, especially once he noticed that Erestor had managed to sneak out. “If you will excuse me, I have a few things to take care of. It was a great pleasure meeting you, Maedhros.” The silver elf gave a little bow and headed for the door.

“Wait, I will come with you.” Maglor rose from the bedside chair. Lindir turned and met his love halfway across the room. Giving the older elf a chaste kiss on the lips he whispered, “Stay with your family. I will see you at dinner.” He kissed Maglor again, turned and left the room. Maglor stared after him with a silly look on his face.

“Quite a lover you have there, little brother.” Maglor attempted a glare, but given his face was a lovely shade of pink, there was no heat in the look. The three elves laughed and settled in for some quality catch-up time.

*******

“My Lord, I really do…”

Glorfindel continued as if the younger elf had not spoken. He paced with a distant look in his eyes. “I was returned to serve and protect Earendil house. I have not lived up to that honor. The Silver Lady was attacked and forced to sail. Her devastated sons hunt the countryside in search of every orc they can find. My Lord worries they will not return and now there is the growing threat of evil. All because I did not feel the need to escort Celebrian myself, as I should have.” By now Glorfindel’s voice was raised and there were tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

Orophin reached out and caught the warrior’s sleeve, pulling him to sit next to him on the bench.

“What happened to the Lady was no more your fault than it was mine!” Glorfindel pinned the young elf with a disbelieving glare. Orophin took a deep breath and continued. “I led the escort waiting for Lady Celebrian. When she did not arrive at the appointed time, I should have ventured beyond the borders to intercept her.”

“You had no way of knowing anything was wrong.”

“Exactly, and neither did you.” The two elves stared at one another. Glorfindel dropped his head into his hands in an attempt to stop the tears from falling. Uncertain of how to proceed, the silver-haired elf gently rested a hand on the strong back; his eyes stung with tears for the great elf beside him.

******

A knock on the door drew the three elves from their reminiscing. “Come,” Elrond called.

“Forgive the interruption, my lord. Your meals will be served here shortly. I will make the necessary excuses to Captain Haldir and his brother.”

“Thank you, Erestor.” The dark haired elf gave a small nod. “I would not have been able to get through everything that has happened without him. He is the one who truly rules this valley. I am just a figurehead.” Elrond continued.

Erestor blushed at his lord’s compliments. “That is untrue and you know it, my lord. I am only fulfilling my duty. Please excuse me.” Erestor nearly bolted from the room. He hated attention. As far as he was concerned, Elrond was being overly kind. He didn't do anything any other chief advisor wouldn't do.

Maedhros smiled at the retreating elf with a sort of melancholy look. “Are you alright?” Elrond asked concerned.

“Yes.” Maedhros answered then quickly thought, ‘Well, Elrond has good taste in elves.' The wounded elf closed his eyes and sighed. It was too much to expect that not only he would be returned, but that he would find love as well. He grudgingly admitted that Elrond and Erestor complimented each other wonderfully.

Chapter 24

As the novelty of being whole again wore off, Maedhros began to consider his situation. His wounds were healing at a remarkable rate, and he grew stronger every day. Eventually, he would have to leave the safety of the healing wing and face everyday life. Namo had laid some conditions upon him, conditions that affected his station in life. No more would he ride into battle, train new recruits, or hunt orc. He let out a melancholy sigh; what was he to do? He had no talent in music beyond that of the average elf. He never put much effort into the study of anything that was not directly related to battle. The ancient elf closed his eyes.

Erestor stood at the door, unseen. He had come to see if Maedhros needed anything. His brow furrowed as he watched the shadow cross the warrior’s face. Something was not right; Erestor debated his course of action. Squaring his shoulders and displaying his most pleasant smile, the dark-haired elf approached the bed.

“Forgive the intrusion, my lord,” he said with a slight bow. Maedhros looked up, startled out of his musings.

With a smile that made Erestor’s heart flutter, the auburn-haired elf motioned for the younger elf to approach. “I assure you, it is no interruption,” he said softly.

Erestor took a seat in the bedside chair, uncertain of what to do now. Looking up, the young Noldo found a pair of intense mahogany eyes studying him. He could not help the slight blush that crept over his face. Maedhros looked away with a sigh. The noise did not go unnoticed.

“I do not mean to pry, but is something troubling you...? Shall I send for Lord Elrond...?”

Quickly masking the melancholy in his eyes, Maedhros replied, “It is nothing; there is no need to bother Elrond. I have taken up far too much of his time.”

“I highly doubt that he sees it that way.” Maedhros thought the young elf speaking was the most beautiful creature to grace Arda. “If not Lord Elrond, perhaps Lord Glorfindel? He has gone through it all before.” Maedhros shook his head. What he really wanted was to get to know the dark advisor more; unfortunately, he had to keep reminding himself that this was his foster-son’s heart's desire. Silence settled over the two elves. Just when it began to become oppressive, there was a knock at the door.

“Come,” Maedhros called. The door opened to admit the golden lord mentioned just minutes before.

“I am sorry, I did not realize that you had company. I will return another time.” Glorfindel reached for the door.

Erestor spoke up, “It is all right, I was just leaving.” The raven-wing-haired elf brushed past Glorfindel. If Maedhros did not know any better he swore that Glorfindel was nervous.

Maedhros nodded to the chair that Erestor had vacated. Cautiously, the warrior took a seat. He had put off this meeting for as long as possible. Sooner or later, he would have to face this. The longer he put it off, the more butterflies swarmed in his stomach. Although Orophin insisted that he had nothing to worry about, the Elda lacked such confidence. He cleared his throat and thought about what to say. Maedhros took pity on him and spoke up first.

“When you returned, did you feel a euphoria followed by the weight of realization? I have been so happy to be here that for the last few days I have been able to avoid thinking about the future.”

Glorfindel nodded. “Namo asked me to help you with the adjustment. I fear I have been remiss.” The Gondolian lord bowed his head. With some reserve, he continued, “I will answer any questions you have. Feel free to send for me at anytime. The people of this valley are wonderful, however they cannot know what you and I feel. Once you are stronger, I will begin familiarizing you with Imladris, her defenses and warriors. It will be Elrond’s decision when he feels you will be ready to join patrols and eventually lead.” Glorfindel tried his best to lock out the hurt he felt. He spoke to a spot over Maedhros’ bed; he could not look the great prince in the eye. For this reason he missed the dejected slumping of his companion’s shoulders.

“That will not be necessary,” Maedhros said softly. “I will not need to be acclimated with the defensives and the warriors.” Glorfindel looked up at this. Was Maedhros really so arrogant as to think he could do it himself? Glorfindel let out an involuntary snort. The resting warrior took no notice and continued. “Namo has a few *rules* I had to agree to before he would let me return to Arda.” Glorfindel gave a silent request to continue. Now it was Maedhros’ turn to stare into space, lost in his narrative. “I must be on the side of good, however, I cannot wield a weapon that has a point or sharp edge save the small knife I had with me and a staff.” Here he gave a dark chuckle, “I cannot be a warrior…what am I to do? I was so happy to get a second chance that I never really thought about the implications!” Maedhros rested his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes. “What am I to do Lord Glorfindel? All I have ever known were the ways of a warrior. I do not have my brother’s gift of music. I feel so lost. What good am I to anyone if I cannot do what I am best at?”

Glorfindel had the grace to feel a bit guilty for not coming to the warrior sooner. Obviously, he was troubled and needed someone to guide him. Taking in all the Maedhros said to mind, he began to formulate a plan. Looking intently at the burgundy haired elf, he voiced his thoughts.

“I am sorry I did not seek you out sooner. With everyone fussing over you, I figured one more elf might push you over the edge.” Glorfindel felt no need to tell the ancient elf his initial unfounded fears. “Perhaps together we can figure out a plan that fits Námo’s conditions.”

Opening his eyes, Maedhros turned his head to the now smirking captain of the guard. “I am not sure I follow.”

“Well,” Glorfindel began with a twinkle in his eye, “Námo has a plan for you. You…*we* just have to put the pieces together. I am certain that the Valar do not wish to make life un-enjoyable.” Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, the golden-haired elf continued. “Was there anything else that you were told?”

Feeling his spirits lift, Maedhros smiled and replied, “I also cannot be part of a planning or participating in a battle. Oh, and in order to sail West, I must give and find unconditional love.” Here the former warrior looked to Glorfindel. “I would be in your debt if you could help me.”

“I will help you.” Glorfindel felt like himself for the first time in three days. He had a feeling that he and Maedhros would become close friends. It was nice to have someone else around, especially since everyone will be in awe at the handsome, re-born Son of Fëanor