Road to Redemption

Road to Redemption (3-4/50)
Author: Gwaelinn
Beta: BookofNicodemus
Type: FPS
Pairings: Lindir and…
Rating: (G) NC-17-R overall
Warnings: (none now) Slash (m/m)
Summary: Everyone deserves a chance for redemption
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’.
Feedback is greatly appreciated!
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Lindir began to head southwest toward the coast as the scroll said. It had already been 3 weeks and he was glad when he encountered Gildor. The gypsy elves welcomed the young minstrel. On his first night, Gildor sat beside him at a small fire.


“How is it that Elrond let his head minstrel lose?” He said with a smile


“I asked.” Lindir answered matter-of-factly.


“Perhaps the question really is why the minstrel left.”


“I wanted to study music from other realms and people.”


Gildor gave a knowing smile. He had lived a very long time and knew when someone was hiding something. Still, it was not his place to pry. The two sat in silence before Lindir took a deep sigh.


“I know that you have lived long and seen much,” he began. Gildor gave the young one a sidelong glance and nodded his head. “There is something that I have seen that I do not recognize. Would you look at it?”


“Of course, pen neth. What is it?”


Lindir went to his pack and retrieved his journal. The silver-haired elf opened the journal and handed it to the elven lord. Gildor’s eyes went wide and his face paled.


“Wh… where did you see this,” he asked in a shaky voice. By now, Lindir was worried. He really did not want to show anyone the scroll but the blonde’s reaction scared him.


“You know the seal?” He asked instead.


“Aye, I know it. I marched under it, so to speak.” Gildor stared into the fire, lost in a distant memory. He continued, “It was the first age. Arda was in turmoil and Eärendil braved the sea to seek help from the West. The great horns blew and an army was assembled. We all had our family standards. And we came as a great host, though ours was not the greatest. Before us was the host that marched under that standard.” He pointed to the picture before going on. “Before us were the Valar, under Manwë’s standard…”


“Are you saying that this is Manwë’s insignia? Manwë, the King of the Valar?” Lindir interrupted in disbelief.


“That I am, penneth. It was what the Dark Ones saw first, and it struck such fear in them. Humph…struck fear in us as well. Where did you see this? You are too young to have seen the banner yourself. I thought none recorded it in the histories.”


Lindir stared at his wringing hands in his lap. “No, my lord. I…um…” He did not know what to do. He was shaking like a leaf and had paled. Gildor knew that it was more than finding the symbol in some ancient book. Lindir took a calming breath. “It was a seal on a scroll that I found in my pack.”


“A seal on a scroll? Who gave you this scroll?” A concerned Gildor asked.


“No-one, my lord. I just found it there, after I had left Imladris. I thought it was a note of good-will snuck into my bag by a friend, but I knew no one with that mark.”


“You say you just found it packed in your belongings? It was sealed?”


“Yes my lord.”


“No one would dare use the symbol of a Vala. Lindir, this scroll…it had to have come from Manwe himself. He placed it in you pack as only he could enter undetected. Thou…I have never heard of this happening. Lindir, this is a serious matter, and I fear it. Would you share with me what it says?”


Lindir could see the anxiety in the other’s eyes. He did not understand what was happening and he would feel better if he were not entirely alone with his knowledge. “It was a rhyme of sorts.” He started. “Would you…would you like to…um…see it.”


“Aye Lindir, I would.”


Lindir rose and returned moment later with his pack. Sitting back down, he removed the scroll and handed it to Gildor. He sighed, knowing Gildor was going to have questions.


With reverence, the Vanya unrolled the scroll and read it contents. “It is certainly a rhyme, a clue. It seems there is something or someone the Vala wants you to find. Why he did not send it by traditional methods…”


“Traditional methods?” Lindir choked.


Gildor chuckled. “There are times when that Valar communicate with those in our realm. They send visions and dreams, or a messenger. In all my years, I have never heard of a Vala stashing a note to be found at some later time.”


“What if I had not found it? What if the message was not for me but for another and I opened it!” Lindir began to panic as the realization of what happened hit him. Manwë, King of the Valar and Arda, had visited him!


Gildor put his hand on the minstrel’s shoulder. “Calm down, meldir. If it were not meant for you, you would not have found it. You have been blessed…it seems that Valar have an interest in what you wish to do. They are guiding you. It is forbidden for them to directly interfere in the happenings on Arda, however, they can tilt the scales, so to say.”


“Why would the Valar care about my wanting to learn more? Elves do it all the time.”


“Yes, but you are looking for a specific teacher, are you not?” It was not a question. Gildor knew the truth, but said nothing about it. If Manwë felt the idea was a good one then who was he to argue?


Lindir looked like an elfling caught out after bedtime. “I…”


Gildor held up his hand. “This is not my concern. It is between you and the Valar, it seems. Just know that none will learn of this or of your quest from me.”
Lindir visibly relaxed. “Hannon le, my lord. If you will excuse me, I am very tired. If I may, I would like to continue to travel with you for a time. There is much I can learn from your people and you are traveling in the same direction as I.”
Gildor looked up at the now standing elf. “You are welcome to stay with us as long as you wish.” Lindir tuned to leave. “Lindir…” The minstrel stopped and turned to the gypsy. “…If ever you need to talk, I am here.”
“Hannon le Lord Gildor. Good night.”
“Good night, penneth.” Gildor closed his eyes, ‘I hope the Valar know what they are doing.’ He chuckled as he opened his eyes. ‘Of course they know what they are doing.’
*****
Chapter 4
Lindir remained with the traveling elves for three weeks. Gildor’s people headed directly south; Lindir turned more west. He felt that once he reached the coast, he would follow it until he found the right cove. Gildor gave food and water as well as new clothes to the departing bard.


Lindir traveled quickly now. Hithlain (Mist) made good time to the coast. Eight weeks into his travels, the minstrel reached it. It was just past midday, the sky bright and clear. Lindir stood in awe at the splendor before him. He set his things on a dune, released Hithlain of her harness, letting her wander freely. The elf made his way to the surf. Never had he seen the sea like this. He had been to the Havens, but there the ocean's grandeur was kept beyond the harbor’s entrance. Now, there was no harbor…only the vast sea. He made camp along the shore and spent much of the night just gazing across the foaming surf. Lindir wondered what the sea-longing felt like. They said once an elf heard the ocean’s song they forever longed for their elven homeland. Lindir did not feel that way; he did not feel any strong desire fill him. The minstrel was glad of that.


Lindir followed the coastline for another two weeks before he found a small fishing village. Pulling his cloak close and hiding within the cowl, he asked a fisherman if he knew of any bards or minstrels that wandered the area. Several Edain in the vicinity looked up at his question. Finally, a man well-along in years spoke up.


“M'self, I never seen any, nor heard any; but me sister married and moved south. She's wrote many times and spoke of some strange music she be hearing. Her husband says it be jist the wind and sea. M'sister swears it be a voice she hears. It frightens her, for it be a hauntin' sound.”


At this time another man came forward. “They say it is a spirit that laments. I heard some children saw a being on the outcrop. They be young and prone to mischief so most believe them pretending.”


This sparked something inside the quiet elf. “Where are these children? I would like to hear about this mysterious creature.” The group of men laughed.


“Why would ‘ya want ta do that?” The old man who spoke first asked.


“I am a story teller. I thought they might be able to inspire me to create a new tale.” Lindir smiled. ‘Now that is thinking on your feet.’ He thought to himself.


“A story teller, you say. It is too late to travel now. Stay. My wife makes a wonderful fish stew and my children would love to hear some tales.” A young man said.


“Let the man be! I doubt that he wants to spend his evening spinning tales.”


“Actually, it would be an honor. I will gladly trade tales for a warm meal.” Leading his horse, Lindir followed that man.


The house was small but homely. A fair woman and three small children greeted them. Once the minstrel entered the house, he realized that the cloak and hood would have to be removed. He was grateful that he wore his hair loose; at least his ears did not show.


There was a brief silence as the family looked at their guest. If they were stunned, the adults hid it well. The children though stared openly. “He pretty, mama.”


“Galion!” The woman was mortified.


“An’ he gots silver hair an eyes like your flowers.”


The embarrassed woman sent an apologetic look to Lindir. “Beggin' your pardon sir, they are young and excitable. Please, I apologize.”


Lindir looked at her kindly and bowed. “They're a joy, m’lady. Truth be told, that is the way most, including my own people, react. I know they mean nothing by it.”


“Well, I’m sure you are hungry. Come; supper is ready.” Lindir followed her to a table where she quickly set another place. “It is not much, sir…” She began when the minstrel interrupted.


“I am honored you would share your meal with a stranger.”


“Strangers are always welcome in our home if they be good souls.” The man continued, “Thia, he is a story teller. Said he’d share a tale or two with the children.”


Loud cheers erupted from the children until a cough and stern look quieted them. “That is unnecessary sir, you must be tired.”


Lindir looked at the woman. He decided that he liked these people. They were not like the Edain traders that often came through Imladris. Unlike the selfish, greedy and often smelly traders, this family shone with warmth and compassion, and even the children look to have been washed recently. Yes, he liked them. Finally he spoke up, “It is my pleasure ma’am. I am a minstrel by trade. It is the least I can do for this fine dinner.” The woman blushed and her husband smiled with pride.


Later that evening the children gathered around the hearth as Lindir pulled out his flute. He sat on the floor amidst the giggling children. “What shall I do? Tell a tale or sing one?”


A unanimous ‘song’ came quickly in response. Laughing, Lindir began to sing. Feeling comfortable, he unconsciously tucked a hair behind his ear. A gasp was heard just before a small finger touched the exposed ear.


“You be like him. Mama, he like the one I told about. See, I told the truth.” An excited little girl said.


“Callia that is a enough!” Her mother said.


“But mama…”


“Enough. You now better that to touch another without them giving permission. My lord, we did not know you were one of the fair folk. We have never seen any.”


“I have too seen one!” the frustrated child said.


Before the mother could speak, Lindir replied, “I am no lord, only a minstrel. I apologize for not saying I was an elf; I am new to these lands and know not how people feel about my kind.”
“Some are wary,” the man answered, “but most are good folk. As my wife said, rarely do your people venture to this area.”


“You daughter said that she had met one.” Lindir’s heart pounded. Could it be this easy?


“It is only a child’s imagination. The little one was visiting her aunt some weeks ago. She wandered away while they picnicked at the sea. She went into the water, fell and was pulled under. My sister found her lying on the beach. She kept saying that the sea spirit saved her, an elf. My sister took it for the ramblings of a child, but…”


“But what?” Lindir asked.


“Well, Callia is not one to make things up. Seeing you now, I am not so sure she imagined it.”


Lindir scooted over to the little girl and smiled. “Would you tell me about it?” The girl looked to her mother who sighed and nodded.


“He did not look like you except for the ears. He was not as pretty either. His hair an’ eyes were dark.” Lindir chuckled. “I don’t ‘member it all, but I was under water an’ scared. I felt an arm around me pulling me up. When I looked at him I saw his ears. They were just like yours.” Lindir’s eyes were riveted on the little girl. “ ‘An that’s all I ‘member.”


“Thank you little one.” Lindir stroked her cheek making her giggle.


“Did one of yours save our little girl?” The man asked.


Lindir moved to sit on a low stool. “If an elf was near, he would save the child. We hear more than you. It would be possible for her cries to be heard over the waves. I do think it was an elf that saved her.”


The little girl’s eyes lit up. “I just ‘membered something. His hand was strange. It did not look right. But maybe I just thought that ‘cause I drank lost of icky salty water.” Every one laughed at her choice of words. Once good nights were said, the mother took the children to the loft. The man sat back. “You know this elf?”


“No.” Lindir shook his head. “However, I search for an elf that fits the description the little one gave. May I be so bold as to ask where you sister’s village is?”


The man nodded, “Yes. It is late. In the morning, I will tell you the way. Please Sir, do not tell of what my daughter said. There are those who are not so kind. That is why I did not speak up earlier.” The man rose. “There are more blankets in the chest. I’m sorry we haven’t got anything better for you.”


Lindir smiled as he moved to the couch and unfolded a blanket. “You are most generous. You have given me a full stomach and a soft place to rest. I thank you.” With that, the man climbed the stairs. Lindir turned down the lantern wick to extinguish it and settled himself down. He stared at the flames as the fire crackled. Had he truly found Maglor’s location?
TBC
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