Chapter Text

Disclaimer:  I own nothing except my original characters. All other beings and places belong to the fabulous J. R. R. Tolkien.  Like Alice down the rabbit hole, I'm only a visitor enjoying his Wonderland.

A/N: This is an AU tale, a plot that begged most aggressively to be realized.  This story is just Part One in a two-part saga that ultimately finds us in the universe of LOTR.  I have borrowed Maedhros from the First Age to help me introduce my original characters.

- 0 -

The Shimmer -Part One

Maedhros' End

 
"But the jewel burned the hand of Maedhros in pain unbearable; and he perceived that it was as Eonwe had said, and that his right thereto had become void, and that the oath was vain.  And being in anguish and despair he cast himself into a gaping chasm filled with fire, and so ended; and the Silmaril that he bore was taken into the bosom of the Earth.
 

And it is told of Maglor that he could not endure the pain with which the Silmaril tormented him; and he cast it at last into the Sea, and thereafter he wandered ever upon the shores, singing in pain and regret beside the waves."   --The Silmarillion (Houghton Mifflin pp 253-254)

Chapter One – The Journey

The heat in the cave was unbearable. A scorched sulfurous air writhed around the two Elven warriors as they struggled, locked in their strange embrace. Sweat poured down Maedhros' grime streaked face as he tried unsuccessfully to free himself from the vice like grip on his arm. "Nay brother, do not stop me," he implored.  Maglor desperately held on tighter to his brother as he dragged him from the edge and the waiting death below.  "I will not let you kill yourself," he shouted over the roar of the fiery chasm.  Maedhros raised his hand and waved it before Maglor's face.  "Do you not feel the same burning," he hissed through clenched teeth; his pain filled eyes reflecting the guilt and madness raging within him.

Maglor paused as he looked down at the Silmaril clutched in the blackened fingers of Maedhros' ruined hand. He met his brother's gaze…pain recognized pain.

"I can not go on," Maedhros slowly said as his body began to tremble. He moved his head closer to his brother's and gently touched their foreheads together. Maglor was startled by the familiar gesture of affection and his grip loosened slightly.  It was all Maedhros needed. Summoning all his strength, he pulled his arm from Maglor's grasp and pushed his sibling backwards.  Rushing to the edge, he stopped and slowly turned to look at his brother one last time.  A silent message of mutual grief passed between them.  Before Maglor could speak, the first born of the House of Feanor stepped off the edge into the empty air.

"MAEDHROS…." Maglor screamed as his brother disappeared into the chasm. Collapsing to his knees, his fists struck the ground around him as hot tears streamed down his face.

                                                    - O - 

Darkness enveloped him as he fell to his doom, blessing him with its inevitability.  The tormenting madness deep within him forced a smile across his lips. It is over. The Oath was finished, his duty to it…done.  Relief coursed through him; soon he would begin to feel the fire of the abyss as its fingers of flames reached up to claim him. The horror that was his life would soon be over.  Finally…the Halls of Mandos would loom before him, and there he would find the peace he sought so desperately. 

But instead of the expected plunge into the waiting molten river, a hard dampness slammed violently into him knocking the air out of his lungs.  Maedhros' grey eyes sprang open with the impact, and he watched in terror as the Silmaril flew from his hand. A brilliant white light blazed far behind him obscuring everything else, his mind was reeling and quickly fell into a new blackness…he saw no more.

Time passed and he became conscious once more.  Slowly, Maedhros opened his eyes and tried to focus them. There was a great flickering light coming from somewhere illuminating most of his swirling surroundings. All he knew was he was laying on his back in some strange place.  The rock ceiling spinning high above him was a clue.  A cave?  Shutting his eyes again, he tried to still his swimming senses. He knew he needed to move; he had to get out into the fresh air and figure out where he was. As he turned, he felt a slight pain in his shoulder. Gingerly, he moved his shoulder again and found it was only bruised from the fall.  He moved his legs and arms to determine if they were whole. They were; however, he did not know how fortunate he should actually feel at the moment.

Stinging tears filled his eyes as he remembered where he was supposed to be…and why. He felt his chest tighten as he realized that this place did not feel like the Halls of Mandos. Nothing felt right…nothing.  Where am I…? …Am I dead?  Oh, please make it so, he prayed. Maedhros smiled sarcastically as he lowered his aching head knowing no one was listening. No one had listened to his prayers in a very long time. His soul still felt the cold emptiness of that revelation.

There also came a different awareness…as hard as it was to believe, his damaged hand had stopped throbbing.  Reluctantly, he stretched his left hand out in front of him. His eyes widened in astonishment as he found it was greatly changed.  A soft laugh of disbelief escaped his lips as he stared at it. Even in the flickering light, he could see the blackness was gone from his fingers; his hand no longer showed any of the severe burning as before. He quickly glanced at his right arm…no, the leather caplet still covered the stump of his wrist.  He turned his attention back to his hand and wiggled his fingers making sure it was true.  Had his madness imagined the intense burning? Now the only evidence that his hand had ever held the Silmaril was a small patch of blistered skin on the palm. The Silmaril!  The sudden realization that he wasn't holding the Silmaril tore through his still confused mind. The fear that it might be lost formed a cold knot in his stomach…where was it?  Panicked, his breathing became labored as he tried to recall the last time he held the jewel.

He remembered it flying from his hand and the hollow echo it made as it skidded across the earth and stone floor.  A quick glance around relieved his fears.  The coveted gem was in the same position where it had finally come to rest.  It lay glowing with a vibrating brightness that still beckoned to him.  Maedhros knew he had to get it safely back in his possession. He needed to feel it in his hand once more even if the burning returned. 

As he tried to push himself off the cave floor, a roaring wave of dizziness forced him to drop back into a prone position on the hard wetness. He lay there, his cheek against the cold stone and the welcome relief it provided him. He tried to concentrate on the small faceted globe of light sitting just a few feet away.  Maedhros watched it, hypnotized by its bright beauty. The light within the jewel pulsated and danced to some unheard music. Maedhros knew without moving closer, there would be no music to hear. Just the need to hold it again.

The cold sterile truth of The Oath made him remember the cost he paid in his efforts to possess it.  The loss of his father…his brothers… his people…his very reason.  Bitter tears escaped down his cheeks, but he made no attempt to wipe them away. The salty drops slid over his lips and down his chin, but his eyes never left the Silmaril.  After all he had suffered and made others suffer, he still wanted to cling to it.  This is madness indeed, his mind wailed bitterly to the icy gem.  He lay there unable to move as he felt the crushing guilt tear through his body.

The light in the room began to grow brighter, but there was something else that began to draw his attention…the sound of falling water. There was a definite smell of moisture in the air; he had not noticed before. Curiosity peaked his interest enough to make him try to raise his head a bit. Gradually, he brought himself up to his knees keeping his eyes on the Silmaril as a focal point.  When he was certain he could manage it, he rose gently to his feet. He spit back onto the cave floor the small amount of sour dirt he found in his mouth. He waited and when he was sure he could continue to stand, he slowly turned his head towards the sound and the still brilliant glow flickering behind him. The dazzling light made him raise his hand to shield his gaze.  As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, they widened and his body stiffened as all thoughts were replaced with disquieting awe.

A small waterfall cascaded down a rock wall into a large pool below.  A shimmering mist of glowing radiance seemed to hang just a few feet above the pool making him doubt his eyes. The mist wove itself in and out of multi-colored shafts of moving light. As the illusion of dancing shapes undulated in the brightness, Maedhros' eyes narrowed as he tried to fathom what he was looking at. The veil of light filled mist, with its vaporous edges thinning and finally disappearing into the air, was like nothing he had ever seen before.  He moved closer to the pool as he tried to concentrate on the motion within the shimmer.  There were quick moving snatches of color, but the movements were unclear. As unclear as trying to look at them through thick gauze. Apprehension replaced his wonder as the shapes slowed and became clearer. A kind of picture immerged from the vapor and showed itself to him.

Maedhros was puzzled as to what he was actually seeing. What magic is this? His brows drew together as he tried to reason out just what the image was. It was an ordinary market day in a large stone city of the Second Born. Carts and stalls were set up on a grassy square, where country folk were selling their produce and homemade goods to the city dwellers.  There were also makeshift pens filled with sheep, cows, and pigs waiting to be inspected before a price was discussed.  Young women walked amongst the crowd selling freshly baked treats from trays hanging around their necks. The activity although considerable was very ordinary in the life of a community.  Maedhros vaguely remembered places like this in quieter far off times.

There was no sound coming from the shimmering light, but the moving depiction before him was something he recognized.  What is this mist…this shimmer?  Why am I being shown this...to what purpose?  Maedhros brought his hand up and tried to touch the apparition. His slender fingers met with an invisible barrier protecting the mist from his touch. Though invisible, it felt as hard as any metal, but gave the impression of movement…of a kind of vibration.  What spell is at work here, he wondered.  His eyes searched the many human faces before him; he was unable to recognize any of the town folk.

The scene suddenly melted away and a new one appeared.  Maedhros began to feel the dull ache of foreboding. This ghostly vision he knew intimately, and it sickened him with its familiarity.  A different kind of city stood within the vapor. The star-filled sky bathed the white buildings on either side of a wide street in a clear blue radiance. The bodies of the dead lay everywhere, bathed in this same cold light. Maedhros steeled himself as his gaze scoured the street.  Dead eyes stared back at him from pale silent Elven faces. Some of them he had known all his life, others he would never know.  He felt his heart hammer against his chest as he relived the reason why they were dead.  He had been there. He and his brothers had killed the Elves for the mere fact that they would not give up their ships. These Elves had stood in their way, and The Oath forced them to strike back in savage response.  The guilt of these first kinslayings once again ravaged through him, as did all the deaths committed by the sons of Feanor. 

He tried to cover his eyes, physically trying to blot out the sight, but all he could do was quake under the burden of those memories. How many times had he seen these same faces in his sleep?  How many more times would he find them tormenting his dreams? Why was he being forced to endure yet again the consequences of his family's actions?  Of his own brutal conduct?  He forced himself to look at the mist again.

The street of death dissolved away and a party of living Elves carrying bows walked stealthily through a golden forest. Their appearance told Maedhros the Elves were Sindarin, both in manner and dress.  That they were a hunting party was obvious, but he knew none of the group. What is this devilry? The senseless randomness of what he saw only increased his anguish.  I will not stay here and watch this, he vowed.  Looking around the room, he tried to find an opening, some door through which he could escape from the haunting images. 

Instead, he found that the brightness from the shimmer made it difficult to see the rest of the room clearly. Varying shapes of rust colored rocks surrounded him.  Because of the ceaseless light, there were no shadows or details clear enough to aid him in his search.  He tried to concentrate harder hoping he might be able to see an opening. To his dismay, there were just the four walls, and no evidence of a door.  I had to come into the cave by some means, he tried to reason. 

A change in the intensity of the shimmer made him return his attention back to it reluctantly.  The party of Elves was gone, and a rocky slope covered in grey sharp-edged stones appeared under a slate colored sky.  Wisps of fog traveled close to the ground, swirling around a male figure aimlessly making his way over the unfriendly rock-strewn terrain.  The partially shrouded figure came closer and Maedhros' heart began to race.  The beginnings of joy made its way through him as he recognized the wanderer, as he would always know him.  He allowed himself to smile as he watched his brother.

"Maglor!" He cried. Thank the Valar, this torment may be over. He felt the relief wash over him.  Maglor continued to wander along the rocks without any indication that he had heard him.  Maedhros called again and again, hoping Maglor would hear. He called and called, his voice becoming more desperate.  Finally, almost hoarse from yelling, Maedhros stopped and watched the lone Elf. The continued look of despair on Maglor's face and his aimless walking was sad proof that he was deaf to Maedhros' calls.

Maedhros moved around the pool frantically trying to find something that could help him.  His eyes darted around the room looking for anything that would give him a clue how to breakout of his confinement.  He finally inspected the waterfall to make sure there wasn't a secret doorway hidden somewhere behind it.  The cold water that chilled his hand also chilled his heart. There was no escape.

As his shoulders slumped in defeat, a possibility slowly crept into his mind.  He stood there for a moment, head bowed, a scowl covering his face as he considered it.  Suddenly, he looked at the shimmer and smiled.  "Of course." 

As he ran his hand across the barrier again, he could feel the low hum coming from the invisible wall.  It was true; it wasn't a physical wall, but some kind of force.  If he could just breach it, Maedhros knew he would be able to jump through the mist and back to freedom. He could then find Maglor and they would face whatever the Valar had in store for them…together.

He looked at the Silmaril glowing on the cave floor. The pounding of his heart echoed in his ears, matching the pulsating light coming from the bright jewel. Closing his eyes, he turned and tried to still his thoughts.  Leave it here! He heard his own voice whisper deep inside him. Leave it to this stone prison where no one will ever find it…The Oath is finished! Maglor needs you!  He opened his eyes; determination now filled them as he glared at the shimmer.

Taking a few steps back, Maedhros rushed the wavering vapor.  Letting out a battle cry through curled lips, he braced himself and jumped with all his might at the waiting light. A deafening explosion of sound echoed throughout the room as his body was violently thrown back. He landed hard on the cave floor, his head bounced off the jagged rock surface.  Maedhros' pale eyes began to blur and the sound of far off thunder was the last thing he heard before slipping into unconsciousness.

- 0 -

Maedhros gradually became aware of his surroundings. The possibility that he might have escaped the strange cave room was the only reason he opened his eyes. Moving his head slightly to see if it was true only caused a stab of pain to shoot through his face.  He quickly brought his hand up and touched the side of his temple; it was wet and sticky. He looked at his fingers…blood. But as he lowered his hand, he focused on the shimmering mist once again.  He let out a low moan and closed his eyes. So it was true, he was still in his prison. He tried to fight the growing dizziness and the bile of his failure that left a bitter taste in his mouth.  After a few moments and with great difficulty, he stood up. Head aching, he staggered over to the pool.

He quietly stood before the shimmer wondering what to do next. As he stared at it, he did not know if it was his injury or if the various visions in the mist were now flying by. He could not register one before it disappeared and another replaced it, then another, and still another. Slowly, he tried again to touch the mist, but the barrier was still intact. Tears of frustration filled his eyes.  What is this place? Is this to be my judgement, his mind howled.

His heart broke as he realized that it might be true.  Would he ever be able to return to the outside world?  Was this to be his punishment? A chill ran through his body; he felt so lost.  Once again, he knew death was preferable to a life like this.  Sobs built up in his chest and he found it difficult keeping them from escaping. Summoning all his strength, Maedhros fought to control himself.  If he let himself succumb to despair, he knew he would collapse into the final agony of total madness.

Lowering his head, he looked into the pool at his feet.  He could not recognize the reflected face that stared up at him.  Was this truly what he looked like? Was this all that was left of the Noldorin lord he once was?  The face in the water was a living mask of guilt and deserved sorrow.  Dark shadowed eyes rimmed in red looked back at him. They were vacant in spite of the torment he knew hid behind them. The braided auburn hair he was once so proud of now hung in various stages of unbound chaos. The side of his face was bruised and covered in blood from the deep cut at his temple. Maedhros stood there for a moment and felt his body begin to sway as he became light-headed.

He lowered himself to his knee trying to calm the dizziness and the anarchy in his mind.  Ripping a section of his under tunic, he wet it in the pool and tried to attend to his cut.  He took in a breath and let it out slowly through tight lips as he began to dab at his wound.  The stinging pain from his attempts to clean the gash made him wince. Well, I now know one thing for certain…the dead do not bleed! The thought almost made him laugh at the absurdity of it.

So he was definitely alive. But why?  Rapidly, anger and overwhelming frustration consumed him. Raising his clinched fist at the shimmer, he screamed "WHAT DO YOU WANT OF ME?" His words echoed throughout the room, demanding an answer.

Suddenly from behind, Maedhros heard a startled intake of breath and a crash.  The warrior Elf drew a short dagger from his belt as he tried to rise to his feet and face his intruder. Only his warrior training kept him focused enough so he did not expose his weakened condition.  However, his face took on the same shocked expression as the young girl who now stood facing him by the opposite cave wall.

She was trembling and had dropped the lantern and scrolls she had been carrying.  Her mouth uttered something that sounded like a question.  Without taking his eyes off the girl, Maedhros lowered his dagger and sheathed it.  Again, he heard the girl say something to him.  He did not know what or how to reply; he could not understand a word she spoke. He stepped toward her, but the girl quickly turned and disappeared into the cave wall.

Maedhros followed, finding to his surprise the girl had not disappeared, but had rushed down a passageway.  The light from the shimmer had only obscured the opening, giving the illusion of unbroken rock.

"Avathan naegrach le. Im mellon le. Im aniro an pedi le," he called after her. The girl ran as fast as she could and did not look back.  Maedhros found it hard to follow.  His head was still swimming; he had to touch the sides of the rock walls to help steady himself. 

The passageway was not very wide, but it seemed to go on and on.  Finally, Maedhros paused just a few feet before the opening.  To his joy, he discovered there was bright daylight shining into the passage.  Freedom!  His heart sang.  Walking quickly into the sunshine, he could feel the wonderful life-giving light of the sun as it caressed his body. He raised his face to the sunlight, thankful to be out of the cave room. The weight of his captivity was suddenly lifted from his shoulders, and it felt wonderful. He breathed in his surroundings. There was a heavy scent of saltwater in the air…he was close to the sea. Close again to life, and that felt good as well. 

He remembered the strange girl and looked about.  He was standing on a high hill overlooking a rolling vista of green fields nestled between low valleys and large forests. The passage opening behind him was hidden from casual view by overgrown brush and by tall stones that stood sentinel around it.  The standing stones continued and were scattered along a path.  His eyes searched, but could not find the girl.  There was a large wooded area not far from where he stood and he decided she must have run into the trees to hide. He regretted frightening her away like that. 

He looked further, but he could not see any of the familiar mountains he knew nor were there any landmarks he recognized.  There was something else, there was something different, and he instinctively knew it as his eyes swept the land in front of him. "This is not Middle-earth," he said softly. Sadly, there was more…

A sickening awareness came over him that made him stumble to his knees. Because of his wound and his preoccupation with escaping, he had not been aware of it before.  But once outside in the cool clean air and the sunlight, it was glaringly obvious.  Sitting hunched over, he tried to steady his breathing and still his thoughts as he searched. The cold realization that he no longer heard the song of his people poured cold fear into his heart.  The voices of their Feas as they sang the Song of Iluvatar linking each to the other, were silent. 

Icy beads of perspiration dotted his forehead as he strained to hear even a whisper.  Time passed and there was only deafening silence. Maedhros stood up as an unbearable resignation filled him. His face crumbled into desolation as he looked out at the alien landscape once more and collapsed to his knees again.  So he had been judged…this was to be his punishment after all.

He was truly alone.

To be continued.

Translations:

Avathan naegrach le. Im mellon le. Im aniro an pedi le = I will not cause you pain. I am your friend. I desire to speak to you.

Chapter Text

Berkeley, California-

The morning began with the promise of a great day. The bright sun almost sang in the nearly cloudless sky.  The city of Berkeley, California was bathed in a clear golden light as a soft wind rode the air current in from the coast. It was a time for fun, for playing around, no matter what your age.  On a day like this, anything was possible.

The young woman dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt stopped pacing the empty hallway of her family home, a cordless phone glued to her ear.  Although she seemed to be listening, her attention was elsewhere.  A small beveled glass window at the top of the front door angled golden fingers of sunlight into the hall. The rays touched a small patch of the wooden floor near her booted feet.  Ailsa Kincade's hazel eyes glowed with childlike wonder as she raised her hand to play with the shaft of light; a childhood ritual, barely remembered, but never forgotten. There was always something about the "feel" of sunbeams that made her imagine she was holding something solid…something magical. A secret smile curled the corners of her mouth as her fingers danced within the gleaming light.

Suddenly, she remembered the phone at her ear. "I'm sorry, what did you say?  I didn't hear you." 

"Listen Ailsa, don't try to be clever." The male voice softly cautioned on the other end.  "I know you've got your heart set on riding today.  And we'll go, I promise.  I just can't ride all afternoon. You know how busy I am. There's a lot of prep work I still have to do for the dig."  Kyle's attempt at being reasonable couldn't hide the frustration that was coming through loud and clear. His voice always deepened when his emotions came into play. 

 
Ailsa ran her hand through her shoulder length auburn hair, a clear sign she was frustrated as well. Really...You'd think he was the first archaeologist who ever had to prepare for a field assignment.
 

"Fine.  I just thought you might enjoy a break."  Her eyes darkened as her displeasure slowly began to turn to annoyance.  "It's a beautiful morning and it's going to be a glorious afternoon.  It's so clear you can actually see the Golden Gate.  We can't waste a day like this." There was silence on the other end of the phone. "Besides, you've been working night and day getting ready for your trip and I haven't ridden in ages.  Come on, let's have some fun."  She hoped her argument would win him over. 

She heard a low sigh of resignation. "Okay, you win."  Wahoo!…her mind cheered as she bounced on the balls of her feet.  It's great to win!

"Besides, it'll give me a chance to help you make up your mind about the dig."  Kyle had suddenly yanked the win from her.

Not again, she thought.  "Dammit Kyle, can't you just let it drop.  I don't want to talk about it anymore." She was adamant and hoped he realized it. 

"But it would be a perfect place to work together," Kyle tried to reason once again.  "And who knows, maybe once you make up your mind about working with me, you just might want to make it a permanent job."

Oh great, she sighed. "Can we just enjoy the afternoon, and leave it at that?" Ailsa waited for another barrage from Kyle, but to her relief, it didn't come. Just a small pause while he thought about it.

"Can you be ready in an hour or so?"  He finally asked.

"It's all good. I've got a great bottle of Chardonnay cooling in the fridge. We can drink it at The Point if you want," she said triumphantly.  After all, she was doing this for his own good.

"God, you can be so stubborn at times.  All right, I'll let you drag me away this time.  But, I have to be back at my office by 4:30. Okay?"  Kyle tried to sound serious, but failed miserably.

"Yes, dear."  She smiled, bowing in mock submission. 

"And stop bowing like that."  She froze in mid bow. 

"How did you know I…" 

"I know YOU," he said and laughed.  "Now hang up."

"Bye."  She quickly replied, and placed the phone back in its holder.   Her hand lingered on the phone for a moment as her brows came together in a deep frown.  Kyle was special to her, and she would miss him when his team left for Turkey.  But would she miss him enough to drop everything and follow him? That's a laugh. What do I have to keep me here?  Ailsa stood quietly musing on that thought when Earl, her cat, began to waltz around her legs.

A smile tugged at her mouth as she bent down and lifted the orange tabby, tucking him into the crook of her arm.  His topaz eyes stared up, demanding her complete attention. She tickled the goatee of fur on his chin. "But we would miss him, wouldn't we Earl," she cooed.  As usual, Earl refused to answer.  Ailsa smiled at the stubborn cat and walked toward the kitchen, cradling him in her arms. 

As Kyle's departure date neared, the stress had begun to wear on her.  How many more times is he going ask me to go, she thought.  Better still, why aren't I jumping at the chance to be with him?  She realized she needed this ride as much as Kyle did.  A good ride, on a fast horse cleared away a lot of muddled thoughts. 

She walked into her mother's newly remodeled kitchen and saw her preparing something on the marble topped work island.  She said a quick "Hi" as she walked over to the island and pulled out one of the stools.  Her mother gave her a quick smile and turned her attention back to her work on the marble top. Ailsa sat down and attempted to place Earl on the counter. 

"No filthy cats near my canapés, please." Her mom firmly announced without looking up from her task. Ailsa knew she meant it too.  She gently put Earl on the kitchen floor.  With his usual dignified grace, he walked to the back door and plopped down in front of it with an arrogant "mew."  Ailsa eyes crinkled with amusement as she enjoyed Earl's "I don't care" attitude. An attitude she wished she could mimic better.

Patrice Errington Kincade was making "the" famous and expensive Kincade Salmon Mousse canapés. Her mother was famous for them and the imported smoked salmon made them shamefully expensive.  The canapés were only made for very special brunches or for very important visitors.  Her mother's face was set in deep concentration as she put small sprigs of cilantro garnish on each pink mound of mousse. Ailsa reached for the one closest to her, and received a lightning quick slap on her hand.  "Ow!" she cried as she quickly retracted her hand.

"Ailsa Margaret Kincade don't you dare touch that," her mother admonished with a raised eyebrow.  "You know we're expecting company."

Ailsa rubbed her hand.  "Jeez mom," she said in mock indignation.  "You'd think we were expecting royalty, the way you're acting."

"Well, I've been breaking my back trying to get this house in some kind of order.  Your father gives me less than 48 hours notice to welcome a representative of some unknown relative in England. You'd think there would be more notice.  We don't even know what time he'll arrive; just some vague reference to late-morning." Her mother was obviously not impressed with all the intrigue. "Why is he coming all this way to speak to your father anyway?" She shook her head. "It better be good news." 

"It's got to be something important don't you think?" Ailsa started to laugh. "Do you think we'll find out dad's a duke or something? Who knows, maybe he's next in line to inherit a great fortune."  The moment she said it, she regretted it.

"Let's hope so.  Lord knows, he'll never have one otherwise."  A cold resentment filled her mother's brown eyes as she looked past Ailsa towards the hallway leading to her husband's study.

Ailsa tried to change the subject.  "Well, let's hope he shows up soon. Kyle and I are going to Tilden Park and ride the Ridge Trail."  Her mother quickly turned her icy attention back to her daughter. 

"Do you mean to say you won't be here when our guest arrives?"  Her mother didn't wait for a reply.  "It's bad manners for you not to be here. I'm sure he'll want to meet the whole family."

Ailsa could feel the defiance rising.  "Well, unless he gets here soon, you'll just have to apologize for my lack of manners. You can let me know if something exciting happens." 

Her mother just rolled her eyes and released one of her dramatic sighs. "I just don't know what I'm going to do with you." Her mother didn't actually expect an answer. "This could be important to the family, and I think it's only right that you be here to at least greet our guest." 

"Really, mother, I could care less."

"That's your problem."  Ailsa's mother put her hands on her hips for emphasis.  Ailsa sat frozen in her seat as she steeled herself for the latest What are we going to do with Ailsa? speech.

"You care less and less about everything.  Your father and I have tried to be patient, but you just seem to be dragging your heels. We want to know when are you going to make up your mind and decide on something…anything?" Patrice raised her hands for effect.

"Don't bring dad into this," Ailsa cautioned. How she hated it when her mother tried to use her father like this! 

"Why not?"   Her mother seemed surprised.

"Because, it's not fair.  You're the one with all the big plans for me. I'm sorry if I'm not living up to the grand design you have for me. And I'm sorry I won't let you dictate to me what I should do." Ailsa's eyes narrowed as she spoke.  "Let's just say I'm sorry, period!"

"I just don't know what I'm going to do." Her mother leaned against the counter top shaking her head.  "So you decide that a teaching degree in history is what you want.  Fine, I say.  You feel a Masters degree will help you get a better position. Fine, okay!  But you haven't even selected the subject for your Masters' thesis yet, and now it looks like you're going to pass up this Ankara thing with Kyle for God knows what reason."

Ailsa felt her cheeks heating up. "Whatever," she said sarcastically as she waved her hand dismissively. A gesture she knew her mother hated.  "Why is it so damn important that I make up my mind this very minute?"

"It's important because you're passing up an excellent opportunity for both Kyle and you to distinguish yourselves in Turkey. Don't you want to be part of that?"

It was Ailsa's turn to roll her eyes. "I know the dig in Ankara is a great opportunity, mom.  But it's Kyle's opportunity, not mine.  I'd only be his assistant…his volunteer assistant, I might add. Besides," her voice dropped as she started to run her fingers along the edge of the marble top, "this trip has too many strings attached."  She waited, hoping her mother would finally understand.

She didn't, and continued her lecture as she began to rearrange the canapés on the silver tray lying between them.  "I just don't get it. He has more ambition in one finger than your father ever had." 

Oh, here it comes…Ailsa thought; she didn't have to wait long. 

"Your father has ended up a little known history professor in a minor department at Berkeley.  Oh, he'll occasionally publish a paper or some little book that nobody reads on some stupid theory that nobody can possibly accept." Her voice was thick with a resentment that Ailsa hadn't heard before.

"He's not even tenured for God's sake.  I just don't want you to be stuck like that."  Her mother paused to see if Ailsa was listening.  She was, but with anger written all over her face. Ailsa felt she had to defend her father the more her mother criticized him.  Lately, it was her mother's favorite pastime.

"Can't you leave dad alone?" Ailsa raised her voice. "Every time you want to make a point, you use him as your best argument for failure. God, I'm sick of it." She hated being in the middle of her parents' problems. "He loves teaching.  The rest of it doesn't interest him.  He just has different priorities, that's all."

"Ha," her mother snorted sarcastically.  "As far as I can see, his priorities don't include success. I don't want you to end up like him.  Not a girl with your background. You should aspire to greater things."

"Wait just a minute!  What background, mom?" She asked sarcastically.  "You're the one with the background.  You're the one with a great big fat silver spoon in her mouth."  Ailsa's eyes blazed defiantly as she spoke. "You're the one from the privileged lifestyle.  Papa Errington's money was pretty handy to get whatever you've wanted, right?"

"And you can see how much good that did me."

"I can truthfully say that it's abundantly clear how you feel, mom." Ailsa stood up.  Mother and daughter stood glaring at each other.  Ailsa took a deep breath, and tried to calm herself.  "I don't want to keep arguing about this.  I just need more time."

A kind of resignation crossed her mother's face.  "I only want what's best for you.  I don't want you to make my mistakes," her mother conceded. There was a strained silence between the women.  "So, are you going to be here to a least greet our guest?"  Mom was back to business.

Ailsa smiled wearily at her mother.  "Isn't that the question that started all this?"

"Well?"

Ailsa's anger began to calm as she realized that she wasn't going to win this particular argument.  She took a deep breath and released it slowly.  "Okay, I'll stick around for a while.  Maybe Kyle would like to meet the man who's going to change our lives." Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she turned and headed toward the hallway.  She always marveled at the way her family's little blossoms of anger bloomed, but then quickly faded.  Unfortunately, nothing ever seemed to get resolved. She was now more concerned that her father had heard their raised voices.

"Dad!" she called with a smile knowing her mother hated the "unladylike" way she tended to yell around the house.

"In here," her father called back through the open door of his study.

Ailsa entered her father's study with the same anticipation she always felt each time she walked into it…she was entering Dad's room.  Ewan Kincade's presence could be felt everywhere. From the opened tomes on the table near the window, to the overstuffed bookcases against the walls as well as the habitually cluttered desk he sat behind. The opened volumes and stacks of text on the desktop were gradually creating a higher and higher wall around him.  His laptop was positioned in front of him and he was quickly typing as he intently stared at the screen. 

Post-it notes of various colors and sizes were stuck everywhere…even the desk lamp couldn't escape a trimming of the small pastel squares hanging from the bottom of its shade.  The Weatherman multi tool he always carried on his belt lay open on some papers.  Ailsa always referred to it as her father's "weapon."  Heaven only knew what needed to be tightened, cut, clipped, or pried. 

Her father's study was also a room filled with pictures. Pictures of family camping trips, parties held at the house and elsewhere. Frozen slices of this and that from their lives casually arranged on the walls or propped up on bookshelves.  There were even one or two pieces of Ailsa's childhood art still floating around. One such painting was still taped to a framed diploma on the wall. As best as she could remember, it was supposed to be a picture of a blue giraffe standing under a green sun. Ailsa didn't understand why he still had the ugly thing.

Her father hadn't noticed her yet, and she smiled as she watched him click away on the keyboard.  The new wave of forensic history fascinated him and he was in the middle of writing a paper on it. He always kept up with the latest archaeological finds and the new theories that enhanced or changed the way we could look at historical events.  Unfortunately, although Ewan Kincade was a gifted academic, many of the new theories he embraced didn't always make him popular with his colleagues. 

Teaching, however, was his true passion. A passion that continued to breathe new life into the sometimes dry subject of dates and places for his students.  His popularity with the student body filled his classes with minds expecting to be questioned, to search, and discuss every possibility.  A semester in Professor Kincade's class gave you more than an ability to practice memorization, and his students loved him for it.

She watched the scowl on his face as he concentrated on his subject matter. Still tall and lean, he looked younger than his 52 years; even his auburn hair hadn't grayed much. People said that he resembled his mother.  Both Ailsa's Kincade grandparents were dead; some car accident that happened before her parents met.  But she had seen the photos and agreed, he did have his mother's kind grey eyes.  He looked up from the keyboard with them now and smiled at her.  "Has our guest arrived?" he asked expectantly.

Ailsa's smile widened with relief, he hadn't heard them in the kitchen. "No, he hasn't shown up yet."  She moved to the leather wingback chair facing the window.  She sat down, her left leg curled under her, and stared out into the street as she continued to hear the clicking behind her.

"You know, you shouldn't argue with your mother on such a golden morning." Her father's gentle voice admonished.  Ailsa closed her eyes. Oh no, he did hear us.  She stood up and slowly faced him.

"I'm sorry," she tried to apologize unconvincingly.  She decided the truth was better. "But she makes me so damn mad," Ailsa admitted.  "She's always bugging me about my thesis, or the dig… but especially about Kyle."  Ailsa chose to skip commenting on her mother's remarks about him.

"Well, she is your mother and it's her job to bug you." He looked at her from under raised eyebrows, but his shining eyes were filled with loving indulgence.

"Well, what she's doing is driving me crazy.  She's putting so much pressure on me to go to Turkey with him, I can't think.  And Kyle's no better; he's pressuring me too.  But not just about the trip.  He keeps hinting about marriage." She paused and turned towards the window. 

She heard her dad get up from his chair and walk over to her.  His arm reached around her shoulders drawing her close.  "Well…that shouldn't be too hard to figure out.  Do you love him?" 

Ailsa stiffened a little. "That seems like such a simple question doesn't it?" She looked up into her father's face.  "You'd think there would be a simple answer," she finally admitted.

Her father smiled back. "You know what's wrong?  You're just being pulled in too many directions."  He squeezed her shoulder.  "You're young. You take your time, and don't rush into anything. These are important decisions that shouldn't be made hastily."  Placing his curled fingers under her chin, he tilted her head so she looked him in the eye. "And they should only be made by you."

She laid her head on his shoulder.  She loved how he could always make her feel better. "Actually, I think my problem is I've always had it too easy," she finally confessed.

"Don't say that, you've worked very hard for everything you've achieved," her father countered.

"Look, I'm 23 years old and I still live at home.  My father's a professor at Berkeley.  And where do I go to school?  Berkeley.  I need a job for extra money. Poof! I'm a research assistant for one of my grandfather's old cronies. Mom's family is rich…riding lessons, fencing lessons, piano lessons…the list goes on and on.  Did I work for any of it?  No. I don't even know if I ever wanted any of it really. And then there's Kyle." Ailsa paused and took in a deep breath. She slowly released it, as she shook her head.

"He's a great guy, dad. And he's starting a career in Archaeology with all the enthusiasm of someone fulfilling a lifelong dream. And now he wants me to be part of that dream. If I choose to commit to him, I'll have an easy future in front of me. My problem is I just don't know if I want it that way."  As she spoke the words, she regretted saying them out loud.  She didn't like them; they left a stale taste in her mouth.

Her dad dropped his arm and turned Ailsa to face him. "Aren't you being a little hard on yourself?" 

"Not really," she admitted.  "I feel as if I'm lost. As much as I hate to admit it, mom's right in one sense. I am floating without much direction. I keep feeling like I'm waiting for something. Oh, whatever…" Frustration filled her voice.  "I don't know what to do. I can't make up my mind and I feel lousy, because I can't make everybody happy."

Her father looked hard into her eyes. "Any decisions that need to be made, need to be made by you alone. And the only person you need to make happy is yourself.  No one else.  You do that and you'll pass the happiness on to others. You'll see."  His face softened into a smile.

"Thanks.  I really needed to hear that right now." Ailsa hugged him. "You know, you're a pretty good dad," she said meaning every word.  "I think I'll keep you around for a while."  She quickly kissed his cheek and walked toward the study's open door. 

She could hear her father chuckle behind her as he sat back down at the desk.  "Come in anytime.  My office hours are very flexible.  And there's no charge for words of wisdom to family members."

Ailsa shook her head at his lame attempt at humor.  As she entered the hallway, she was startled as the doorbell began to ring.  "I'll get it," she yelled to no one in particular.  She opened the front door and quickly blocked her eyes with her hand as the bright sunshine nearly blinded her.  "Whoa," she said as she stepped onto the porch. 

- 0 –

 
As Maedhros stood silently outside the house, he wasn't surprised that it was a pleasant dwelling.  His research had correctly indicated that the heir was living a rather normal life in this world of continued learning.  In fact, it was a life as ordinary as all the others were who had come before. 
 
Once again, he would keep the promise he made so long ago. But somewhere deep inside, Maedhros always regretted this part.  During the countless times he had performed this changeless ritual, there was always a moment of hesitation just before he intruded into each one of those ordinary lives; changing their world…forever.  And now, Ewan Kincade was to be next.
 
Standing on the porch step of the heir's pleasant house, he waited patiently for the young woman to notice him.
 

- 0 -

Ailsa couldn't see much, but knew there was someone standing on the step below.

"Is this the home of Professor Ewan Kincade?"  A male voice asked.  She heard just a hint of an English accent running through the richness of the man's tone.

Ailsa tried to see the face of the silhouetted figure in front of her, but the sun only framed the figure in a blinding aura of light.  The figure slowly stepped up to the porch and the dazzling sunlight was blocked. Without thinking, Ailsa took a step back.

She figured the stranger was well over six feet tall, because she had to look up to see his face.

See his face?  She couldn't help but stare at the face of the stranger. His patrician features were very masculine, but with a delicate quality to them as well.  Flawless skin was gently pulled taut over the elegant ridge of his cheekbones. His high smooth forehead as well as his generous mouth came together in an extremely handsome face.  He's more than just handsome, she marveled, this guy's beautiful!  

Finally, she stopped herself from gawking at the man and cleared her throat.  "Yes, this is Professor Kincade's house." Thankfully she was able to reply without stammering. 

"I am Maedhros.  I believe the professor is expecting me."  He smiled, and Ailsa swore that he gave her a slight bow.  He was dressed in a midnight blue silk suit, but in a style she had never seen before.  The fitted coat was long and reached mid-thigh and had carved buttons of the same midnight blue color down the front.  The collar was mandarin in style, but not separately attached.  The whole suit coat seemed to be in one piece.  His long dark auburn hair was pulled back smoothly, covering his ears.  It seemed to be fastened at the nape of his neck with something, but she couldn't tell with what. She noticed his unusual silver grey eyes.  Although he smiled, it never reached his eyes.  She realized that she was looking at him too intently again and she suddenly felt embarrassed.

"I'm sorry.  I'm Ailsa, Professor Kincade's daughter."  Mr. Maedhros smiled again and actually seemed amused.  "Ailsa…" he said, "That is a very old and noble name."  She smiled back and offered her hand to shake.  She couldn't help noticing he stood with his right hand in his pocket.   He made no attempt to remove it, but reached gracefully with his left hand, and took her hand in his. 

As Ailsa touched the firm warm flesh of his hand, she felt a sudden rush pass through her body as a deep overwhelming sadness filled her heart.  She looked into the stranger's beautiful face and saw that he had felt something too.  But there was something entirely different in his eyes.  There was a strange look of recognition.

- 0 -

 
Maedhros felt it as he took Ailsa Kincade's hand.  A moment of connection that swept through him with the force of a crashing ocean wave.  As he gazed deeper into the young woman's bright hazel eyes, he remembered a similar pair filled with the same kind of light.  Elizabeth's eyes looked back at him once again, in almost the same questioning way as they had on that summer morning when she discovered him in the cave room so long ago. The memories he thought he had safely buried deep inside him came rushing back releasing the bitter sadness and grief that still made his heart ache.  How he missed those eyes...
 

- 0 -

The sensation was quickly over and Ailsa jerked her hand out of Maedhros' grasp. Maedhros took a deep breath as he tried to focus his thoughts again. Certainly the mere touch of their hands couldn't possibly trigger such a reaction. Concern filled his eyes as he waited to see if Ailsa was all right.

Ailsa blinked her eyes several times as if waking from a trance. What was that? For a moment, she had felt such a feeling of sorrow it almost made her cry.  It faded quickly though, leaving her just a little disoriented.  Even that feeling passed quickly enough, and she was able to compose herself.

Absently pointing to the open front door, she tried not to stumble over her words.  "My father's expecting you.  Please follow me."  She turned and walked into the house hoping her voice hadn't betrayed her confusion. She still felt a little…strange. After closing the front door, she motioned to the living room and entered with Mr. Maedhros behind her.  She offered him a seat.

"Excuse me while I tell my parents you're here," she said and stepped into the hallway. Although she felt herself again, she was relieved to put some distance between them. Her father was just coming out of his study.  Her mother was coming down the hallway at the same time.  "He's here," she whispered to them. Her father waited for her mother and they walked into the living room with Ailsa in tow.  Their guest rose as her parents entered the room.  "Mr. Maedhros, this is my father and mother, Ewan and Patrice Kincade." 

"May the light of The Eleni shine on our meeting.  It is an honor to meet you," he said and bowed, taking his right hand out of his pocket and placing it on his chest.  They all watched and realized that he would have placed his right hand on his chest if he had had a right hand.  At the end of the beautifully tailored sleeve was only a black leather caplet covering what was left of his wrist.  There was just a hint of discomfort in his eyes as he acknowledged their inquiring stares.  "I lost my hand in a mountain climbing accident," was all he said.

Ailsa waited as the slightly awkward handshaking ceremony was repeated with each parent.  There was, as far as she could tell, no repeat of what she had experienced.  Both parents tried to make Mr. Maedhros comfortable.  Ailsa's father spoke first. "My apologies for our bad manners just now." 

Mr. Maedhros raised his remaining hand in gentle protest.  "No need to apologize Professor Kincade.  Curiosity is only natural."

"Well, Mr. Maedhros…." Her father began.

"Please, Professor," their guest gently interrupted. Turning his attention to Ailsa and her mother, "I would prefer just to be called Maedhros."  Her parents smiled, and Ailsa could see that although her father was completely unaware of it, her mother had "noticed" Maedhros' beautiful face.

"And you must call us Patrice and Ewan." Ailsa was certain she was able to hear the purr in her mother's voice as she spoke. Ailsa's mother gestured for Maedhros to return to his chair.  He waited for Patrice to sit first…a formality she obviously approved of. 

"Did you have a good trip?" Patrice politely inquired. Without waiting for Maedhros' reply, she continued…."We don't travel much now, but when I was in my teens, my father would send me to Europe every summer.  I had so much fun traveling the Continent with…"

Oh great, Ailsa's mind cringed, Mom's in her "Lady of the Manor" mode.  Ailsa tuned her mother out, and glanced at Maedhros to see how glazed over his eyes must be by now. To her surprise, she found he was looking at her. There was a conspiratorial smile on his mouth that made her wonder.  She couldn't get over the feeling that he knew what she was thinking.  Did he know what she was thinking? Her eyes widened as he gave her a slight acknowledging nod, he turned his attention back to her mother. 

"I had a very pleasant journey." He said, smoothly interrupting her.  "I like flying.  It is a very soothing way to travel."

Patrice smiled back at him.  "Would you like some refreshments," she asked.  "Ailsa, go get the tea and canapés in the kitchen." 

Ailsa started to rise from her chair, but Maedhros put up his hand to stop her.  "Please do not go to any trouble."  Ailsa quietly sat down again.

"It's no trouble at all." Her mother tried to counter.

"I am afraid my visit must be short so I will not be able to enjoy any refreshments." 

Ailsa watched as her mother tried to cover the fact she felt rather put out. But her smile was just a little bit too wide.

"Maybe we should get down to your business," her father had finally entered the conversation.  Ailsa was glad. 

"Have you had an opportunity to discuss with your family the contents of the letter I sent you?"

Ewan smiled in a most guilty way. "No, I haven't.  I thought that I'd wait and give them all the information while you were here. You could then answer any questions they might have."  Ailsa's mother pursed her lips slightly, a clear indication that she wasn't pleased.

Maedhros leaned forward in his chair. "As I stated in my letter, Ewan, through your mother's side of the family, you are the next in line to inherit the estate of Egla Tir. Richard Matthews, the current guardian of the Egla Tir inheritance, is very ill and will not live much longer.  He is both unmarried and childless, so the inheritance passes on to you."  Maedhros paused so his statement could sink in. 

"What exactly is this Ega…Elg…Egla Tair?" Patrice tried to ask.

"Egla Tir," Maedhros offered.  Ailsa liked the way Egla Tir sounded when Maedhros spoke it.  There was a kind of Celtic ring to it.

"Ewan's family claim to the land of Egla Tir goes back many hundreds of years.  The estate is located in Cornwall at the end of the peninsula known as Land's End. There is a small country house on the estate where you will live.  And since this is a working estate and pays for itself, you and your family will not be bothered with the day to day running of it. You will be given a generous allowance from the profits to take care of your needs."  Maedhros turned to Ewan, "You will be the trustee of the legacy.  You will inherit it all upon the death of Richard Matthews." They all couldn't help noticing the sad tone in Maedhros' voice as he spoke of Richard Matthews' impending death.

"Does this mean my father is going to be a lord or something?"  Ailsa couldn't believe she had just asked that question.

 
Maedhros looked at her in a kind of tolerant amusement that made her feel like an idiot child.  "I am sorry Ailsa, there is no title that comes with this inheritance.  It is a trust that a chosen few have been lucky enough to protect."  Protect…Ailsa thought, that's a strange word.  Protect what, from what?
 

"I still don't understand, what is it that you want from me?"  Ewan's eyes were full of unasked questions.

"The only stipulation is once you have agreed to the inheritance, you can never give it back…you can never choose anyone else to take it over…and you can never share it with anyone outside of the family."  There was no emotion in Maedhros' face as he spoke.

Ailsa's mother now stared at the powerfully handsome man sitting in her living room with suspicion.  "Has anyone ever given it back or…anything?"

"No," Maedhros answered rather flatly.

Ailsa joined her mother in her suspicions. "Where do you fit in all this?"  Ailsa inquired.  "Are you the family lawyer in England?"

Maedhros smiled again.  "I am not a lawyer. I take care of the estate.  You could say, I will be taking care of all three of you." 

"That's if, my father chooses to accept this inheritance," Ailsa interjected.

Maedhros looked into Ailsa's questioning eyes and nodded. "If your father accepts this inheritance, I will protect your family."  There's that word "protect" again, Ailsa noted.

"That is," Maedhros continued, "financially, of course."

"Well," her father mused.  "Seems we have a decision to make."

"I am sorry Ewan, but I have one more thing to say.  Before you can make your decision, you and only you must accompany me to Cornwall.  As the legal heir, you must come to the estate yourself and learn what the inheritance entails.  If you do not do this, you can not inherit.  You will only be gone for a few days."

"Oh dear," her father mumbled.

"Oh dear, my foot," Patrice snapped.  "And just when is he supposed to accompany you to Cornwall?"  Her mother's face grew pink with anger.

"I have tickets for a flight tomorrow afternoon.  I presume your passport is in order."

"We have to decide about this trip…right now?" Ewan asked his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Unfortunately…yes. Richard Matthews' health is failing quickly and I do not wish to be away from the estate any longer than I have to."

As Patrice stood up, Maedhros also rose.  She wasn't as impressed with the gesture as she had been.  She just looked up at him and said, "You must excuse Ewan and me.  We need to talk about this."  She motioned with her head to her husband to follow and she was out the door.  Ewan got up and shrugged his shoulders.  Maedhros nodded his head slightly and sat again. 

Suddenly, Ailsa was aware that she was alone with this rather strange man.  She searched her brain for something clever to say, but the result of the past announcements had left her speechless.  The door to the study was closed, but raised voices could be heard. She could only guess what was being said.  How she wished she could be in there to referee.  She felt uncomfortable and gave Maedhros a shy smile as if to say, "Parents, whatcha' going to do?" 

- 0 -

Maedhros could sense Ailsa's discomfort.  He could hear the voices in the other room more clearly than she could.  Heated words were being exchanged, but not just about Professor Kincade's impending trip.  Somehow Ailsa knew this, and he could tell she wanted to be in there with her parents. 

He also knew that she was still wondering what had happened between them on the porch.  Maedhros wondered as well.  Although, this may have been a random episode, he would have to be on his guard and make sure that it did not happen again.  If she was to be part of Egla Tir, he would have to make sure she did not find out too much too soon.  He would have to try to find a way to reassure her.

- 0 -

 "I understand that all this must seem rather mysterious to you, but your father's family has done it this way for many years." Maedhros regarded Ailsa rather intently.  "It is a great responsibility and will change the lives of you all."

Ailsa felt the uncomfortable feeling returning.  It was just at that moment Earl decided to see what was happening.  Ailsa didn't notice the cat's entrance, but when he made a beeline for Maedhros, she tried to dissuade him.  "No, Earl. Get away," she scolded.  As usual, Earl ignored his mistress and leaped onto Maedhros lap. He placed his front paws on Maedhros chest and looked into the face of the new human in the house.

Ailsa rose to retrieve Earl, but Maedhros raised his hand to stop her.  "No, no.  Do not bother him. He is only curious."  Ailsa watched with fascination as Earl gazed into the man's clear grey eyes while standing motionless on his chest.  Maedhros, staring back, started to stroke the cat behind the ear.  Ailsa could swear she heard a low humming coming from deep inside Maedhros.  A little tune, something that she couldn't quite make out.  Earl's long tail gently swayed back and forth to the rhythm of it.  The cat seemed transfixed and started to purr loudly, drowning out any other sound.  She watched for several minutes, fascinated by the exchange between Earl and Maedhros.  Finally, Maedhros grabbed some of Earl's chin fur and tugged gently, "That will be enough for you.  I suggest you go play somewhere."

To Ailsa's astonishment, Earl simply jumped off Maedhros' lap and left the room.  Normally, it took several times for Earl to "obey" any command even from her, let alone a "suggestion" from a stranger.  She looked back at Maedhros with eyes filled with awe.  She swallowed. "How'd you do that," she asked.

"I have a way with animals." He replied. 

That's an understatement.  Ailsa wanted to ask Maedhros more questions, but she realized the conversation in the study had stopped.

Suddenly, the study door opened and her parents came out.  Her father came into the living room, but her mother turned abruptly and quickly went down the hallway towards the staircase leading to the upper bedrooms.

The three, looking in the direction of the hallway, heard her footsteps climbing the stairs rather quickly.  There was a loud slam as her mother closed the door to the bedroom.

Ewan looked at Maedhros almost sheepishly. "My wife has a headache and asks you to excuse her."  Ailsa knew better, her mother had obviously lost the argument.

Maedhros graciously played along. "Let us hope she will feel better soon."  He sat down and waited.

Ewan walked over to the empty fireplace and placed his arm on the mantle to help support him.  "My wife and I," he lied, "have decided that I should go to England with you. My passport is current and I can easily make arrangements for my classes." 

Maedhros seemed pleased. "I am glad that you have decided to come.  I will call for you tomorrow."

"I can take you to the airport." Ailsa offered.  She knew it would be easier to let them take a taxi, but she wanted to send her father off properly.  She instinctively knew her mother wouldn't offer to take them.

"Good," her father smiled at her gratefully.  Turning to Maedhros he announced. "That's settled."

Maedhros bowed again.  "I look forward to our journey," he said.

He looked at Ailsa. "And it has been a pleasure meeting you, Ailsa.  Until we meet again." 

Ailsa could only smile back and wonder.

- 0 -

Night surrounded the airplane as it made its way under the star filled sky.  The Atlantic Ocean remained hidden beneath thick clouds that lay over it like a vast down blanket. Ewan sat glancing out at the stars through the window next to Maedhros' first class seat. Countless thousands of tiny pinpoints of cold light dotted the blackness. More stars that could ever be seen from the ground by just the naked eye. Turning his attention back to the first class cabin, he tried to focus on the book that lay open on his lap. The light above his seat spotlighted the unread pages.  He had tried many times to read them, but to no avail. All thoughts of concentrating on anything were useless.

The only reason he was still awake was the shear excitement of this strange adventure.  Had it been just hours since he had consented to travel with a complete stranger to a far off destination in another country? And was he actually supposed to decide if he wanted to accept an unknown inheritance in an equally short period of time?  He must be insane to be even making this trip?  He knew there were others who would think him mad. Patrice had said as much. 

Ewan sighed as he thought of his wife.  How he wished she could understand the reasons he was making this trip.  There was a dissatisfaction that had been steadily growing between them in the last few years.  Things about each other that used to bring them together, now seemed to be pulling them apart.  He felt helpless because he couldn't figure out why and it was getting harder to ignore the problem.  Even Ailsa knew something was wrong.

Poor Ailsa, it wasn't fair she had to be in the middle of all the unpleasantness. And although she would deny it, he knew one of the reasons she still hesitated leaving home was her need to try to help the situation.  With Ailsa to focus on, they didn't have to focus so much on their growing problems.  Ewan quietly sighed again.  If this inheritance worked out, it could be a new beginning for them all.  He could only be hopeful.

Glancing down at his book again, he tried once more to tackle the latest theory regarding the Punic Wars. Minutes passed…it was no use. Tilting his head back he tried to relax.   Most of the other passengers were quietly asleep as the soft pitched purr of the jet engines hummed through the cabin. Even Maedhros sitting next to him in the shadows, had his eyes closed.  His chest rose and fell in slow even movements indicating slumber.

As Ewan watched the sleeping figure next to him, he found himself liking this rather odd fellow.  Maedhros had been the model of efficiency as he explained the arrangements that had been made and what their itinerary would be.  But there was something else lying beneath his façade of cool detachment.  Ewan couldn't help but sense that Maedhros was actually pleased he was accompanying him to Egla Tir. If he had to, Ewan would have to admit that he was pleased to be going as well.  It was an adventure after all. He slowly closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the soft mechanical hum around him.

- 0 -

Maedhros could feel Ewan's eyes on him as he pretended to sleep.  It was the only way he could escape from the man's continuous questions.  Poor Ewan…his nervousness radiated from him like waves of heat. Maedhros could not fault him though for his honest reaction to everything.  But he had too many questions that could not be answered right away. So Maedhros closed his eyes and feigned sleep.  Feigned because he knew he would not find rest any time soon. The excitement of finding the next heir did not obscure the fact that Richard Matthews was going to die soon. Powerless to prevent it, Maedhros would once again have to face the mortal reality of all the heirs of Egla Tir.     

Earlier, Maedhros had tried to take Ewan's mind off his inquiries by asking him about his family.  However, it was more than a ruse; Maedhros was very interested in the subject. His encounter with Ailsa Kincade had awoken memories long buried.  Memories that still brought him great pain and longing. She indeed had Elizabeth's eyes.  Not just the color…no…he had also recognized the same flash of intelligence and independence of spirit that had also belonged to Elizabeth.  Maedhros smiled as he remembered that spirit.

- 0 -

The cave had been used by the old religion.  An ancient goddess had laid claim to the pool and waterfall in times so long ago, folk could no longer remember.  Worshipers regularly left offerings and prayers around the pool in hopes of her blessings or counsel.  Sadly, the cave was eventually deserted when the new religion spread throughout the county and began to frown on such heathen practices.  Abandoned and forgotten, it eventually became a wonderful private sanctuary for a lonely young girl to come with her lantern and book scrolls to dream away her time. 

At ten years of age, Elizabeth was the last surviving child and heiress of the House of Bramford.  Surviving both her father and older brothers after they were slain in the last battles of what would be called "The War of the Roses."  She was the last child of her mother, Margaret, an heiress in her own right. Elizabeth lived with her mother in a place called Cornwall, in the reign of the English king called Edward, the fourth of that name. 

 
In the mystical cave, Elizabeth was able to envision the tales her mother had told her of faerie folk and such. Imagining tales of legendary knights and their ladies.  However, even her imagination could not have prepared her for the sight she beheld one bright summer's morning.
 
And what a sight he must have presented to the frightened girl.  His dirty face bloodied and bruised.  A man who was both strangely dressed and strangely spoken, shouting at a patch of brilliant light over the cave pool.  Much later, she would tell him how she had run from the cave, and had taken refuge in the nearby wood. Watching him from the safety of the trees, she saw him collapse on the ground as if struck by some unseen hand.  She wanted to go to him, because he was obviously injured and needed help. The strength of her compassion had overcome her fear and she left the trees, quietly walking over to the damaged warrior.
 
Maedhros' heart swelled with the memories. Remembering the comfort of those tiny hands as they offered what help they could.  She had bound his wounds as best she could and would not leave him until she was sure he would rest in the safety of the cave. She came back every day bringing him food and medicines to help him heal.  Always taking him out into the sunshine as if instinctively knowing it would aid in his recovery.
 
Maedhros remembered very little of those first visits.  The pain he was going through was more than just physical. A deep depression darkened his soul, clouding his mind with untold misery.  Much of the time, he sat staring off with unseeing eyes.  He tried to understand what had happened to him, but he could find no relief. Without instruction or insight, he could not fathom what he was supposed to do. The lack of any answers made him sink deeper into his own silent prison.  The only sound penetrating the thick black walls of his lost hope was the occasional faint song of a small bird.  As his mind fought the madness living inside his head, something made him hold on to that sound…trying desperately to salvage his reason.
 
Many days passed until one morning his senses began to awake once more, and he found himself being lead out into the sunshine.  He realized the song of the little bird penetrating his despair was very much like the voice of the young human girl leading him.  As she chattered away, he knew it was the sound of her voice that was taking his mind into the light as well.  Her words were still unknown to him, but something made him cling to each one of them as they soothed his tortured thoughts. 
 
It was she who made him realize he could not wallow in his self-pity.  If he was indeed being punished, why was this child allowed to continue to give him such comfort?  He decided he would have to seek answers through her; and with that, he came to rely on her visits more and more.  He began to speak again, but she was still unable to understand him.  Finally, one day, she brought teaching scrolls and began to slowly introduce him to her language.  With her compassion equal to his need and the establishment of understood words between them, there formed the beginnings of friendship…and the renewed promise of hope.
 

- 0 -

 
Maedhros shook his head.  NO!  No more walks amongst his memories tonight.  None of the memories could be trusted not to touch on old scars.  He finally silenced his thoughts, and glanced at Ewan.  The man was asleep, glasses perched on the end of his nose; his unread book was still open on his lap.  Maedhros stealthily took the book and retrieved Ewan's glasses from his nose, putting them both in the seat pouch in front of the sleeping man.  He reached up and turned off the overhead light. Still watching the sleeping figure in the dimness of the cabin, Maedhros sighed. What will Ewan Kincade do when he finally has all his answers?
 

- 0 -

- 0 -

FOUR DAYS LATER –

With Earl curled up on her lap, Ailsa sat in her favorite chair in her father's study. As she rubbed the cat behind each ear, she mused on the last several days. They could only be classified as surreal.  Had her father actually flown off with a mysterious man to Cornwall, England?  When she left Maedhros and her father at the airport, she wanted to force them to let her come along.  She couldn't help feeling that something wasn't right. Maedhros knew more than he led on. But Maedhros was firm, her father was the current heir and only he was to accompany him. 

Her father tried to reassure her, but she could tell he wasn't so sure himself.  None of it seemed real.  Even the call her father made to the house when he arrived in England seemed artificial.  He told her everything was fine, and they would be traveling to the estate the next day.  A very normal thing to say, but it still sounded off somehow. 

She had felt foolish after her father called from the estate enthusiastically describing the grounds, and the beautiful library in the house.  He sounded normal and very excited.  After lunch, he was going to meet Richard Matthews, and Maedhros was going to go over more of the details of the inheritance at that time.  That was two days ago; Ailsa hadn't heard from him since.  When she called the number he had given her; she was told that both Maedhros and her father were unavailable. She was becoming very concerned.

She couldn't talk to her mother about her concerns.  Her mother was acting as if nothing was wrong, except she was also acting as if her father didn't exist.  When Ailsa tried to say anything about the situation, all her mother would say was "That's your father's affair.  I'm not involved."  She even refused to talk to him when he called. 

The only person her mother seemed to want to talk to these days was Ailsa's grandfather in Santa Cruz.  Charles Jamison Errington, or "Papa" as Ailsa called him, was a millionaire many times over.  Obscene amounts of money were made developing land along the West Coast in the 60's and 70's, and Charles Errington received the king's share. Ailsa loved the old man very much and knew that there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for "his girls."  Now, Ailsa's mother talked, sobbed, and complained to him on the phone…in the study, with the door closed…for what seemed like hours on end.

Even Kyle was useless. When she told him about her concerns, he called her a "worrywart." Was she worrying over nothing? Ailsa could only hope he was right.

It was great to finally have the study to herself.  She felt closer to her father here amongst his stuff.  She'd give anything for the phone to ring.  Anything to hear that he was coming home.  She absently stroked Earl's fur as he purred on her lap. How she wished she had brothers and sisters.  This was too damn much for one daughter.

Suddenly, a taxi pulled up to the house.  She lurched from the chair and dashed to the window, ignoring Earl's protests as she dumped him to the floor.  She gave a sigh of relief as she saw her father get out of the cab, pay the driver, and walk towards the porch.  "Thank God," she said and hurried to the hallway reaching it just as the front door opened. 

Her father walked into the house and found Ailsa waiting for him in the middle of the hallway. He put down his small suitcase and raised his arms indicating he wanted a hug.  Ailsa happily complied.  He held her tightly in his arms, not saying a word.  He held her like that for a while, she squeezing him back.  Releasing him finally, she looked into his face to see if everything was all right.  But before she could ask what the hell he'd been up to, she noticed how tired he looked.  In fact he looked as if he hadn't slept for days. His face was drawn and his eyes looked distracted.  Ailsa frowned, he actually looked older. 

"Where's your mother," he asked.

"Up stairs in your bedroom," she replied.  Her father walked past her heading for the stairs.

"I'm so glad you're home," she called after him.  He stopped and looked at her. "I'm glad to be home."  He smiled, but his voice sounded flat, emotionless.

Just then, her mother came down the stairs, stopping halfway down.  "I see you're back," she said, her face emotionless as stone.  There was ice in her words and left no doubt in anyone's mind that she was still angry. 

Her father drew himself to his full height and stared back at his wife. "Will you and Ailsa please join me in the living room?  I have something to say."  He didn't wait for a reaction; he turned and walked into the living room.

Ailsa and her mother went into the living room and sat side by side on the dark brown leather sofa.  Ailsa's father stood before them. Ewan looked down at the invisible message written on the tops of his shoes.  This was a habit of his when he had something difficult to say.   No one spoke.  Suddenly, Ewan looked at his wife and daughter.

"When the time comes, we'll be moving to England.  I've accepted the Egla Tir inheritance."

The only sounds in the room were two sharp intakes of breath from the sofa.

To be continued.

Chapter Text

Maedhros stood on the cliff edge and watched the wind riding swiftly over the white-capped swells of the ocean.  He saw it take shape as it curled and twisted its way through the rock arches anchored in the seawater off Lands End. Gaining momentum, it climbed the wild sloping terrain above the water as it searched for the inland stream.  Excelling over the rim of the cliff, it buffeted the lone figure standing there as it wrapped itself around and tried to go through him.  Closing his eyes, Maedhros could hear the ancient songs the wind carried with it; tales of a thousand ships and the men who lived their lives on them. The taste of the sea was on his lips bringing with it the knowledge that the tantalizing secrets of its depths would remain just that…secret.

He basked in the sun's warm embrace, gazing out far beyond the curve of the horizon. Seagulls squawked at one another as they hovered above the surf.  Their shrill cries filled the air with their demands for a free meal. Though the sea was alive and the wind spoke volumes, Maedhros could not calm the tension in his heart.

Today, Ewan Kincade would be arriving to claim Egla Tir as his own. Although Ewan had accepted the inheritance without hesitation after visiting the estate, Maedhros could not stop feeling anxious.  It was the same anxiety Maedhros felt as he waited for the signed document to arrive from him after Richard Matthews' death. 

His dark brows drew together as he remembered the last time he was in the late heir's presence.  The stinging bitterness of his words still echoed in Maedhros' heart. "You're an abomination," the dying man had said to Maedhros' offer of comfort. "Leave me alone."  Maedhros did as he was bidden and left without a sound.  He did not return until the nurse came to tell him it was over.

Long ago, Maedhros' secrets had put a wall between them. The resentment Richard felt would never allow that wall to be breached by any attempt he made. Maedhros' impassive face could not mask the deep regret staring out from his intense silver eyes. He had misjudged Richard's ability to understand, and now, it was too late.

His eyes softened, remembering Ewan's excitement after being introduced to his inheritance. Maedhros rejoiced when he had seen the fire that lit up Ewan's eyes with his newly kindled fascination with Egla Tir and its history. Where Richard could only view Egla Tir as a burden, Ewan looked at it as a wondrous gift.  It filled Maedhros with renewed hope, of feeling less alone.  Ewan will be different, his mind insisted. I will just have to be more vigilant…more careful.

There were other considerations.  Maedhros could not suppress the feeling of unease as he thought of Ailsa. Lately, she had been on his mind quite a bit.  He could not forget the strange incidence when they first met. The connection still left him feeling a little alarmed. She is so very young. How could she have the wisdom to comprehend the world beyond her own? He turned the question over and over in his mind.  How will I be able to hide anything from her when the mere touch of our hands can bring on such memories? He knew the truth was dangerous, but too many lies could be disastrous.

 
 His desire to become closer to both father and daughter must not lead to careless mistakes.  Yes, caution would be his plan regarding both of them.  Maedhros straightened his shoulders and breathed in the clean sea air.  He was more firmly resigned to his decision as he turned into the sunlight and started walking back to the house. So, it begins again. 
 

- 0 -

Ailsa had expected their arrival in Cornwall to be acknowledged with at least a thunderous rainstorm, which would include the necessary lightning and howling winds.  Just the kind of weather the Bronte sisters made famous.  Bleak moors stretching out as far as the eye could see. An unyielding road snaking itself towards the "Great House."  A crumbling edifice silhouetted against a black forbidding sky. There, a strange housekeeper waited to welcome the new owners. And just for fun, maybe an insane relative locked up in one of the tower rooms.  Even these cliched thoughts didn't help Ailsa feel any better.  Besides, she was beginning to feel she was the only one who was insane and needed to be locked up.

The days after her father's return and his startling declaration could only be summed up as complete hell.  Ailsa wished there had been at least some yelling…lamps and crockery being broken… slamming doors at least.  No, it was worse, much worse.  There was a polite nothing.  Silence covered the house like a thick smothering blanket. 

And then, Richard Matthews passed away without a word.  Well, except for the Federal Express packet that arrived from Maedhros announcing Mr. Matthews's departure from this life.  She remembered how her father had pulled out the announcement, dropping the large Fed Exp envelope to the floor. Ailsa could see his hand tremble slightly as he stared blankly at the paper.  

She picked up the large envelope and removed a second document.  It was a curiously thick piece of paper and looked handwritten.  The elegant calligraphy covering the page was incredibly beautiful. Intricate scrolling framed the written words with delicate tree branches, full and green; gold-leaf glinted in the light.  It was exquisite.

The document declared that Ewan James Kincade, son of Bethany Helen Matthews Kincade, was next in line to inherit the estate of Egla Tir, Lands End, Cornwall, England.  Affixing his signature to the document made any children of his body the next heirs to Egla Tir.  Ailsa swallowed hard. Holy crap!  That's me. The thought was more than a little unsettling. There was more swirling artwork at the bottom, but she couldn't make out what it was.

The small tremor in her hand was barely noticeable as she handed the sheet to her father.  Without hesitation he signed it and made arrangements to send it back to Maedhros.  Now all he had to do is let her mother know.  Ailsa didn't envy him that task.  But to her surprise, he didn't hesitate.  He called his wife into the study and made sure he had closed the door so they wouldn't be disturbed. 

Ailsa sat on the staircase waiting to see what would happen.  She didn't have long to wait.  Shortly, the door slid open and her father motioned for her to join them.

Ailsa's feet felt like lead as she walked towards the open door.  She didn't know what to expect, it was all too quiet.  Once inside, she sat in her father's desk chair; her mother sat in the leather wingback.  Ailsa tried to read her mother's body language, but she sat stone faced and silent.

Ewan cleared his throat. "It's time for us to get ready for Cornwall," he began.  "There'll be a tremendous amount of packing for the move.  And since your mother has decided that she would rather stay here to oversee the packing, I was hoping you would come to Cornwall with me, Ailsa.  It'll give you a chance to get a look at your future inheritance."

Ailsa frowned; she didn't like this plan…not one bit!  She had decided to go with her parents when the announcement came, if only to help with the transition. This separation wasn't a good idea.

"But I can be the one to stay," she tried to reason.  "That way mom can see to the new house and figure out just how much furniture needs to be sent and what needs to go into storage here."  She looked at her mother for some hint of what she was thinking.  Patrice was busy removing a nonexistent piece of lint from the arm of the chair.  Finally, she sighed and returned Ailsa's stare.  "It's better that I stay.  I'll know what pieces to send.  Besides, it's not as if you have anything keeping you here."  She said and returned to the "linty" chair arm.

Oh, this is going well! Ailsa tried to check the anger threatening to erupt inside her.  "Fine." Ailsa pushed herself into a standing position; her frustration with them both finally rose to the surface.  "Then I'll go with dad."

"And I'll arrange for a leave of absence from the college." Her father called after her.

 "Whatever."  She spat at them as she walked angrily out of the study.

That was the precise moment Ailsa officially gave up trying to be the family peacemaker.  During the days that followed, her mother would talk to her about any other subject except what was actually happening.  Her father was just plain evasive and completely preoccupied. 

When he wasn't teaching his class, his full attention was deep into some new project. He brought home stacks of books and magazines from the college library.  He data-mined furiously on the Internet, spending hours scribbling like mad into various notebooks and pads of paper.  Ailsa had hoped that they would turn out to be information on English estates or anything that would help him run Egla Tir. 

Snatching Kyle away from his preparations, she convinced him to help her in a small conspiracy.  The next afternoon, while her father taught his class, Kyle helped her search the study.  As he sat at her father's desk and methodically scanned the computer memory for lists of visited websites, Ailsa checked the books and comments her father wrote on the various legal pads and notebooks scattered around the room. 

There were fragments of thoughts about Celtic and Norse myths. Lists of publications and book titles. Strange words, "The Eldar" and "Arda" were printed very neatly and underlined boldly on one bright yellow writing pad. There were also arrows drawn to strange little squiggles and what looked like some kind of shorthand of circles.

She found volume after volume on myths and legends through the ages.  There was even a book about the Aurora Borealis.  A science journal dating back several years had a post-it attached to an article entitled, "Planetary Alignment Effects on the Earth's Magnetic Poles."  What's he up to? 

She watched Kyle frown from time to time as he read the documents on her father's computer, but Ailsa couldn't decide if he was just concentrating or if he had found something important.  She anxiously hoped he'd find anything that would explain her father's behavior and his odd choice of reading material. 

"Hmmm," Kyle mused. 

"Did you find something?" Ailsa asked expectantly.

"I don't know," he admitted. "From the data I've looked at, I would say your father is doing research on Pre-Christian myths, legends, and…" There were a few more clicks on the keyboard. "…and fairytales?" Kyle looked at her as if he had just given her all the clues she needed.

"But what about the books and articles on magnetic fields, and what about this?" Ailsa held up a thin red volume with the title, Sunspots.  "What do sunspots have to do with myths, fairies, and elves?" She was beginning to feel frustrated. 

"Maybe your dad is just tired of all this inheritance stuff, and has decided to write a book," Kyle offered. "Well it's not as if you guys have inherited a fairy mound or something.  It's just a house that you can probably lease out. It could be he's just looking for something to do in Cornwall."  His mouth broke into a smile.  "You know, you could just ask him."

"Thanks, Kyle," she said sarcastically. "That helps a lot." 

"Besides…" She lowered her gaze and ran her fingers along the desktop. "I did.  All he said was he was following a stream of thought. End of subject."  Ailsa tried not to look at Kyle.  "I don't know.  I just can't stop feeling that something's not right." 

Kyle let out a sigh shaking his head. "Ailsa, you're making too much of this."  But it was no use. No amount of reassurance from him could explain her father's choice of reading material to her satisfaction.

The days seemed to fly by and before she was ready for it, the time came for them to leave.  The lack of  "good-byes" from her mother was obvious.  Thankfully, Kyle took them to the airport. He seemed to be the only one genuinely excited for them.  As Kyle bent his head to kiss her, it suddenly sunk in that she wouldn't be seeing him for awhile. 

"You know…" She stopped his descent. "I may miss you," she teased.  Kyle's soft lips gently covered hers.  As her arms held him closer, a pleasant warmth ran through her body.

 
Still holding her in his arms, Kyle smiled.  "When I leave for Turkey, I'll get a layover at Heathrow.  Who knows, you just might be bored enough by then to want to come along."  Before Ailsa could protest, Kyle turned, shook her father's hand in farewell and left them.  As she watched him walk down the concourse, she couldn't help feeling a little guilty. He asks so little of me. Kyle suddenly turned and waved.  Smiling, Ailsa waved back.  Damn, I miss him already.
 

The flight was long, but pleasant enough. The seating helped; Maedhros insisted they fly First Class.  The seating seemed rather extravagant, but as she looked around at the accommodations, she changed her mind.  She couldn't imagine Maedhros being satisfied with Coach for himself or the heirs of Egla Tir.

Her father, of course, spent his time reading one of the many books he brought with him.  Ailsa sat through most of the flight staring out the window just trying to make sense of, well…everything. She could have saved herself the trouble. Nothing was going to make sense for a while.

There was a car and driver waiting for them at the airport and she enjoyed much of the ride to the estate. The weather couldn't be better.  The cloudless sky was a bright azure, highlighting the wonderful warm early autumn day.  The countryside was a palette of rich greens with touches of the first reds and golds sprinkled amongst the trees. 

The excitement she felt was steadily growing as they came up to the edge of the estate and she got her first glimpse the massive gates.  As the car passed under the large stone arch, Ailsa saw the name Egla Tir in ironwork across the top.  There was an unusual design of round swirls below the letters.  It wasn't Celtic, but it emphasized the name rather nicely.

They traveled on a well-kept dirt road flanked on either side by a thick wall of trees.  Maedhros had said there was an old growth forest on the estate, but they traveled many minutes without seeing any end to it. Ailsa was impressed with just how big the forest really was.  Her father sat through the journey with a proud smile on his lips.  Ailsa was happy…she hadn't seen him smile like that in some time.

Finally, the trees began to thin and a great clearing of manicured grass emerged.  As they topped a slight hill, Ailsa saw Egla Tir.  "Holy sh…" Her father stopped her with a nudge of his elbow.  Her head snapped round to look at him.  "That's a little country house?" She asked incredulously. 

Where she pictured a typical English Cottage, stood a two story stone manor straight out of Jane Austen.  Tall windows covered most of the front of the house. Low hedges skirted around the corners and ivy quietly climbed the stone walls between the windows.   There were even decorative columns on either side of the door.

"Magnificent isn't it?" Ewan said proudly.  "Wait until you see the library."  Ailsa could only stare at him in disbelief.  What have we gotten ourselves into?

There was a round gravel driveway in front of the house that could easily hold a dozen cars. There were a few cars parked to the side discreetly hidden behind tall hedges. The car pulled up to the big white door and stopped. As if on cue, the door opened and Maedhros stepped onto the marble front steps followed by a robust older looking woman. Maedhros was dressed in a deep grey suit similar to the one he wore when they first met.  Once again, Ailsa was reminded what an extraordinarily good looking man he was.  Not that she could ever forget.  The woman with him didn't look at all as strange as she had fanaticized.

The driver came round and opened the car door.  Ewan jumped out of the back seat as the door opened.  As he greeted Maedhros, Ailsa sat very still and wondered if anyone would notice if she quietly slipped back to Berkeley.  She quickly shoved the idea out of her head, angry with herself. "What's wrong with me. It's just a house." She looked at the tall windows and the imposing stone work.  "Granted, a great white elephant of a house," she murmured.  Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she exited the car with as much grace as she could muster.

Maedhros and Ewan stood to the side, in hushed quick conversation.  The driver nodded as Ailsa thanked him, turning his attention to the trunk and their bags.  As she stood there for a moment breathing in the wonderful country air, she realized she could smell the ocean. 

"We're on the coast, Miss."  Ailsa looked in the direction of the comment. "Welcome to Egla Tir."  The friendly words had a soft Irish lilt to them.

Ailsa had forgotten the woman who had accompanied Maedhros. She stood smiling with her hands clasped quietly in front of her perfectly ironed blue dress. The women looked like she was in her early 60's. Her round face glowed with kindness and her bright blue eyes twinkled as she smiled her greeting.  She was obviously a happy individual. 

Maedhros and Ewan walked up to the two women.  Maedhros seemed genuinely glad to see her.  He offered his hand to her in greeting. "Ailsa, forgive me." He apologized. "There is no excuse for my poor manners."  For a moment Ailsa hesitated taking his hand, remembering what happened the last time they touched. She looked into Maedhros' beautiful face and saw such warmth in his grey eyes, she knew it would be okay.  She gently took his hand hoping she was right. 

Nothing happened. "Welcome to Egla Tir," Maedhros greeted her.

"Thank you. I…I'm glad to be here." She smiled, hoping she sounded sincere.  It was Maedhros who quickly let go of her hand.  Why did he still make her feel so ill at ease?

"I am sorry that Patrice has been detained."  Maedhros said to them.  "Let us hope she will be able to join us soon."

"That's our wish as well."  Was Ewan's short reply as he watched Ailsa's face.

"And now let me introduce you to the person who really runs Egla Tir."  He motioned to the woman.  "Ailsa, I would like you to meet Mrs. Whitehall.  She is our housekeeper and runs Egla Tir with the heart of a warrior."

"Oh go on with yourself." The woman scolded and took command.  "I'm glad to welcome you."  She turned to Ewan. "Professor Kincade, it's good to see you again. Now, since you've had such a long trip, why don't you go inside? I'll arrange to have your bags taken to your rooms and unpacked. And I think some tea is in order."  Ailsa already liked the woman.

Maedhros gestured towards the door.  "Shall we?"  Ewan quickly entered the house.  Ailsa paused for a moment; there was such a feeling of warm regard surrounding her as she crossed the threshold. It was like the house was welcoming her.  She wondered if her father felt it too.

Once inside, Ailsa eyes widen at the sheer size of the place. The entryway was done in pale marble, floor to ceiling.  The rest of the wide hall was framed in rich dark wood with an intricate knot design carved into the doorframes and on the tall paneled doors of each room.   Ailsa noticed they were varying types of Celtic knots. The wide doors to the six rooms stood closed.  Maedhros was saying something about the various doorways, but Ailsa barely heard him. 

At the end of the hall, an immense double staircase rose and split left and right leading to the open gallery surrounding the upper floor.  Forming most of the wall between the stairways was a large arched window.  Slender metal tree branches swirled across the Gothic window, holding the panes of clear glass in place.  Beautifully sculpted leaves of oxidized copper made the tree look alive. Ailsa could imagine the branches swaying in the wind they looked so real.  There was also the same kind of design from the front gate running along the bottom of the window frame.

This is Dad's new home!  Ailsa turned slowly trying to take it all in.  It was more than just a house, it felt alive.  Everywhere there was warmth and light, and the memories of all those who had lived here before. Like her father, they too had come to claim Egla Tir as their own. Now the house waited as they did the same. Yes, she felt it.  The house was welcoming them.   

"Ailsa!" Her father's hand was on her shoulder.  She looked at him wide eyed. "Hmm?" She murmured absently.

"I asked, would you like to see the library?"  He gestured toward the doors Maedhros was opening.  She stared at him with a bewildered look. Slowly, she woke from her trance. "Great, I'd love to. Sure."

Maedhros waited outside the huge doorway.  With both doors open, the doorway looked big enough to drive a SUV through it.  Once again Maedhros gave her that I know what you're thinking smile.  "It is rather large, is it not?"  He turned and walked into the library; Ewan quickly followed him.

Ailsa stood in the doorway of the library unable to move.  Now, she finally knew why her father went on and on about it.  Like most of the house she'd seen, the room was spacious. There were tall windows directly across from her. Other than that, every inch of wall space was covered with bookshelves towering to the ceiling.  Books in a variety of sizes and varied bindings lined the shelves.  There was a tall wooden moveable spiral staircase off to the side that was the only access to the books on the higher shelves. 

Five sofas from different decades were scattered about on an ornate Oriental rug.  Fringed shaded floor lamps stood in the corners.  There was a large wooden desk at one end of the room.  Ailsa smiled, unused to clutter-free desktops as she was; thanks to her father's desk in Berkeley. 

Overstuffed chairs were placed around the room, each an invitation to sit and read a while.  Throughout everything she'd seen in the manor so far, it was the three windows on the far wall that enchanted her the most.  Multiple panes of glass in tall narrow windows reaching all the way to the ceiling.  Beneath them spread three wide window seats.  Each seat cushion was covered in dark green velvet matching the material of the drapes, which were drawn back, letting in deep shafts of sunlight. 

Walking toward the windows, Ailsa closed her eyes as her whole body was bathed in brilliance.  Without even seeing the rest of the house, she knew this would be her favorite room.  Maedhros and Ewan had watched her walk around the room investigating it as a feline would, finding her place.  They glanced at each other and Ewan finally spoke.  "So, what do you think?" With her face lifted toward the light, eyes still closed, she smiled and stretched her arms out, palms up.  "I'm going to live in this room. Okay?"  Both men looked at each other and quietly chuckled.

The rest of the main floor tour didn't take long.  There was a morning room, a dining hall, a living room, a smaller study, an enormous kitchen, and of course, the grand staircase. Maedhros indicated each bedroom had its own sitting or dressing room, as well as its own bathroom. His was the only bedroom that had a balcony that overlooked the gardens. The gardens were in the back of the house, but were best seen later. Mrs. Whitehall's husband, Edgar, was in charge of them and the rest of the grounds.  

There were two housemaids, Colleen and Tammy, who saw to the cleaning and other light chores. The young blonde women smiled shyly as they said their "Hellos" and eagerly watched the new heirs as they followed Maedhros through the downstairs rooms.  The staff didn't live at Egla Tir, and left each evening after dinner.  Ailsa figured it was cheaper than housing everyone.

Maedhros took the lead as he guided them through the large rooms.  As they walked, Ailsa noticed for the first time the hair clip Maedhros used to gather his long dark red hair.  It too looked like some Celtic design.  It was about three inches square and was a depiction of two trees: one of polished silver, the other of bright gold. Both trees were surrounded on each side by elaborate knots of burnished silver. On any other man, this beautiful bit of vanity might look out of place, but on Maedhros it looked very masculine. 

Finding herself staring at the back of Maedhros head, she quickly returned her attention back to what was being said. Maedhros turned just then and looked at her. Ailsa could see the slightest glimmer in his silver eyes. He turned back to his description of the tapestries that hung before them.  Now, she couldn't help wondering what he was thinking.

After a light lunch, Maedhros and her father excused themselves and went into the library.  Mrs. Whitehall showed Ailsa to her bedroom. "Oohh." Was her first response as she walked into her rooms.

The walls were painted a sage green; most of the cherry-wood furniture was a simple design that suited her. The bed, however, was huge; the four tall wooden bedposts were carved with trailing vines and leaves.  The bedding was a deep heather green with tiny cream-colored crocheted edging around the shams. Her sitting room was in deeper greens with similar accents. Ailsa was so glad the rooms weren't overly feminine.  "This is lovely." She finally said as she walked around the room.

"Oh, I'm so glad, Miss.  Maedhros was very particular about how these rooms should be done." Mrs. White was drawing back the moss colored drapes as she spoke.

"Maedhros? Chose all of this?" Ailsa couldn't keep the surprise from her voice.

"Yes he did.  When I tried to suggest a few things, he told me he was confident this would please you best."

Ailsa was somewhat taken aback.  She walked into the bathroom and stood for a moment. She was pleased with the room. How would he know what I'd like? She wondered how many more hidden talents Maedhros kept under that enigmatic shell of his.  She quickly returned to the bedroom deciding not to make a big deal of it. 

"Thank you for putting my things away Mrs. Whitehall.  I always hate unpacking." Ailsa smiled at the older woman. Even her toiletries had been laid out on the counter in the bathroom.

"That's why we're here, Miss.  Now you make yourself at home. Maedhros and your father are in the library.  Dinner will be at 6:00. We all leave shortly after that."  Mrs. Whitehall gave Ailsa a little nod. "It's about time we had some youthful enthusiasm about the place." She chuckled and left her alone. 

 
Ailsa walked around the rooms again and tried to comprehend everything she had seen so far.  Walking over to her bed, she ran her hand over the silk bedspread.  She still couldn't picture Maedhros scrutinizing fabric swatches and paint chips; let alone knowing what would please her.
 

As she pulled back the white lace curtains at the windows, she realized her room was on the same side of the house as the library. The tops of the nearby oak trees seemed to be calling to her as their branches waved rhythmically with the soft breeze.  She decided she needed some air.  She found her favorite jeans and hiking boots. Changing into a long sleeve T-shirt, she grabbed her jean jacket and made her way downstairs.

 
As she came down the staircase, she couldn't help wishing she had grown up in this house.  She absently ran her fingers along the curling design at the bottom of the great window.  She marveled that the whole house had such a light, open-air feel to it.  She was still having difficulty, however, imagining that all of this now belonged to her father.  One thing I do know for sure, she told herself. Mom's going to love it once she finally gets here.
 

Her lips curled into a smile as she spied the shiny wood railings of the staircase. They practically screamed to be slid down.  But alas, she conceded, her sliding days were over.  Or were they?  A mischievous look narrowed her eyes as she quickly looked around. Raising her leg over the polished wood, she pushed off. She quickly jumped to the floor at the curled end of the railing. Pleased with herself, she straightened her jacket and hoped the composed look that now covered her face would fool any casual observers.

She walked through the hall, pausing outside the library.  The doors were closed, and she decided not to disturb the men inside.  She quickly opened the front door and walked out into the sunlight.  She marveled at the massive oak trees that seemed to create a framework around the edge of the house.  They grew close, but not so close as to block any of the glorious sunshine.  She stood for a moment letting the sun and wind caress her face. The wind still held the scent of the ocean. 

The acreage, because calling it the front lawn seemed inadequate, rolled on forever.  Although she'd love to have taken a look at the forest they had traveled through earlier, she decided to explore the back of the house and beyond for now.  She made her way along the side of the house.

Inside the library, Maedhros and Ewan were in deep discussion.  "Ewan, I think you are wrong." Maedhros insisted. "We should wait before telling Ailsa any more. She is very young and may not understand."  There was deep concern in his voice.

Ewan shook his head. "As her father, and I may be prejudiced, I can assure you she has the intelligence to understand a lot more than you give her credit for. She has an inquisitive mind that will want to know more soon enough. And let me warn you, she also has a temper that won't be too forgiving if she finds out she's been deceived." 

Maedhros stood, arms folded across his chest as he gazed out the library windows. "We will just have to make sure we are not put into such a position. I will not make the same mistakes as before. I am sorry, but I have to insist you follow my wishes on this." He stood quietly waiting for Ewan's reply.  Out of the corner of his eye, Maedhros noticed movement and watched as Ailsa walked into view.

"Good luck!"  Ewan answered smiling as he too noticed Ailsa. 

Maedhros turned, and raised one well-arched brow. "Indeed."

Ailsa rounded the corner of the house, and came up short.  For not the first time that day, her jaw dropped as she found herself confronted with another of Maedhros' understatements.   She stood with her hands on her hips as she surveyed the gardens. 

There was an area just behind the house that must be considered the official backyard. White cast-iron chairs and a round glass top table stood near stone steps. The steps began a long decent down the middle of what Ailsa could only describe as wide cascading terraces with rows and rows of every imaginable flower.  

She glanced up, and could see the balcony attached to what must be Maedhros' room.  She could just see the French doors leading inside his room. They were open and white sheers billowed out onto the balcony as a light draft played with them.  There was a half circle of marble railing curving around the balcony. Even from a distance, it was easy to see that the balustrade was carved to resemble tree bark. The house had so many touches like that, wedding nature to stone in a very pleasing affect.

She slowly walked down the garden steps, looking at the colorful displays to her left and right. Each grouping of plants more beautiful than the last.  As she recognized the different varieties, she wondered how they got some of the flowers to bloom so late in the season. At the bottom of the steps was another broad strip of grassy lawn leading into a wooded area.  Ailsa smiled as she looked into the trees.  She took a quick glance at the house to get her bearings and entered the forest.  She stopped several yards into the trees, and looked back the way she came.  She could still see where she had entered.  She decided it wouldn't do to get lost her first day there. 

As she walked, she enjoyed the solitude and the wonderful stillness the woods afforded.  Shafts of bright gold broke through the thick foliage spotlighting the carpet of pine needles and leaf debris.  She nearly danced around the tree trunks, gently touching the bark.  She loved the feel of the wrinkled wood.  The trees were very old; her hand almost disappeared into some of the deep crevices.  She craned her neck seeking the treetops, and laughed as she caught herself before falling backwards with her attempt.  She reveled in the complete bliss of just being there. 

The trees dwindled the further she walked and there was a familiar crashing sound that grew louder.  She could see more sunlight up ahead and hurried her pace.  The woods ended abruptly onto a stony ledge. Tufts of scruffy dune grass sprouted from cracks in the stone.  As she advanced into the clearing, a new wonder filled her eyes. There before her was the sea and the ocean beyond.  She squealed with delight as she realized that the estate had a secluded cliff overlooking the restless vista.

She moved onto the cliff, the wind whipped at her hair and body. She stepped a bit further. Great walls of craggy rocks rose up from narrow paths on either side of her. These paths would have to be explored another time.  She gingerly approached the edge of the cliff to see what the crashing sound was. Below, huge rust colored arches stood sentinel just off a crescent beach of white sand.  The surf pounded the rocks with a great crash of exploding seawater.  "Amazing." The word slowly slid from her lips.

"You should not get too close to the edge, Ailsa." 

Ailsa spun round, instantly face to face with Maedhros.  There was a touch of fear in his eyes.

"My God, Maedhros, you startled me." She suddenly felt she needed to defend herself.  "I'm okay. I was only looking."

With the slightest of smiles, Maedhros gently took Ailsa's arm, and began to draw her further back towards the trees. "Forgive me Ailsa, but you are too close."  He was adamant and would not let go of her arm until they were well away from the cliff edge.

Defiantly, Ailsa looked back and realized he was right. She quickly began to feel a little foolish.  "I'm the one who should be sorry," she apologized reluctantly.  "Whenever I get close to the ocean I can't help myself.  I just can't resist its call I guess."  Maedhros' face suddenly paled as she spoke.  He raised his hand to his brow, closing his eyes as if in pain.

Ailsa reached out and touched his upper arm.  "Are you all right?"  Maedhros stepped back, away from her hand and her question.

Suddenly it was there…beating against its restraints. The desire to sail back to its waiting shores. The need to return to Aman began to thunder through him.  By the Valar, why is this forcing itself to the surface now! NO! Torment me no more!  Maedhros took a deep breath and waited, praying the moment would pass. When he looked at Ailsa again, he was more himself. The girl's face was filled with fear and worry. "I am well, Ailsa.  I thought I was getting a…headache. But I was wrong. I am sorry if I caused you concern." 

Ailsa relaxed a bit.  "Is there anything I can do?"  The way his face paled and the way he acted made her think it was more than a headache coming on. For a moment, Maedhros had looked so ill.  Though, he seemed fine now.

"I think we should return to the house." Was all he said and started walking towards the trees.  Her only option was to follow.

Once in the woods, she caught up to him and tried to make conversation. "How did you know where I was?"

"I saw you from the library window as you made your way to the gardens."  He kept walking.  "I thought you might have some questions, so I decided to join you." 

Ailsa ignored the unspoken "and it's a good thing I did."  She immediately felt bad. Maedhros didn't seem to be a "I told you so" type of person.  She decided to change the subject.  "These are lovely woods."

"They remind me so much of my home," he said wistfully as he looked around. 

"Oh? Where's that?"

"Many miles from here." 

Ailsa waited a moment and finally asked, "You're not going tell me, are you?"

Maedhros looked away for a moment.  "No," he finally replied, forcing Ailsa to smile. 

"You really love playing the man of mystery, don't ya." Her voice was full of amusement.

Maedhros stopped abruptly. "All things in their proper time, Ailsa," he answered tilting his head slightly. "I find many Americans have this unexplained need to tell complete strangers their entire life's story within 15 minutes of meeting them.  I have always found that rather…frightening."  He gave her a quick nod and proceeded once again through the trees. Ailsa realized that Maedhros had just told her very nicely to mind her own business.  But rather than being insulted, she found herself amused again as she rushed to catch up to him.

As they climbed the stone stairs of the garden, Ailsa stopped at a large bush of red roses. Bending slightly, she brought one of the deep red blooms to her nose and breathed in its heady scent. "Hmmm, I don't know if it's the Cornwall soil or what, but I've never smelled roses like these."

"They are quite lovely.  I will have some brought to your room."  He offered.

"Oh no, don't do that." She asked as she put another bloom to her nose. "Better to let them stay where they are.  Cut flowers die so quickly."  She gently felt the velvety petals between her fingers.  "That way everyone can enjoy them." 

"It will be as you wish," he said in a low voice.  Ailsa was certain she detected a tone of pride as Maedhros spoke. Once again, it seemed he heard her thoughts. Clearing his throat, he continued towards the house.

Ailsa stood watching him walk away.  Just who the hell are you Maedhros?

- 0 -

Her language felt crude on his tongue, but he was determined to learn it as quickly as possible. As they took their walks into the countryside, Elizabeth would point to things and say their names; Maedhros repeating them back to her.  Sometimes he would tell her the Elvish name for something and she would attempt to repeat it.  Each would laugh at the other's attempts. 

 
Finally one day, Maedhros was able to ask her the question that burned in his mind. "Where am I?"  Her answer did nothing to calm the flame.  The words Cornwall and England held no meaning for him. Arda was nothing! Middle-earth was a memory to no one but himself.
 
Elizabeth must have observed the distress in his face.  One morning as they sat outside the passage, she told him that he would come to love this world more and miss his fairy kingdom less and less. Maedhros could not fathom why she thought he was from a "fairy kingdom." She told him that it was an honor to offer hospitality to an obvious King of the fairy world.  Maedhros tried not to laugh at her childish misconceptions. She was so eager to make him feel better.
 
She went on to tell him she knew who he was right away.  It was not only his strange garb and his ears that curled into a point. The glowing white jewel now safely stored in the leather pouch she gave him, and the shimmering visage that hung above the pool, were obviously made by his great magic. Who else but a fairy of nobility could travel to this world and have such treasures?
 
He found it hard to disappoint the little face that looked so triumphantly at him.  Her hazel eyes were alight with anticipation as she waited for him to confirm her conclusions. But there could be no lies between them.  Their friendship was too important to him.
 
"There are no such things as fairies, tithen min. I am not a king, not even a prince."  He said the words carefully so he would not stumble over them and lose their intent.  He said them for himself as well; fore there was no longer any nobility about him. "I have no magic. I am but an Elf.  I am nothing more."
 
(Tithen min = little one)
 

- 0 -

Dinner was served in the large dining hall that night.  Ailsa thought Mrs. Whitehall wanted their first dinner to be special.  She found out that all the meals would be served in the large dining hall with all the family china, linen, and cutlery present. That night, Maedhros joined them.  Conversation was light and Ailsa's trip to the cliff was barely mentioned.  Ailsa did notice that although her father still seemed preoccupied, he had relaxed a bit.  Now that they were finally there, maybe he would get back to being himself.

Right after dinner, Ewan excused himself. "I have some research to attend to in the library."  He got up and headed for the door.  Before he could reach it, Maedhros called.  "Ewan, I think Ailsa should see the rest of the library."  Her father stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned.  "The rest of the library?" he asked.  There was a confused look in his eyes.

Maedhros got up and placed his napkin on the table. "Yes, I think she'll enjoy seeing the Archives." 

The confusion in her father's eyes turned to relief.  "Of course." 

Ailsa had watched the exchange between Maedhros and her father with interest.  "Come on Ailsa, let me show you the rest of the library."  Ailsa gave Maedhros a hard look.  She was beginning to dislike the imperious way Maedhros sometimes acted, as if he was the owner of Egla Tir.  She pushed her chair back and stood up.  "Okay, dad, let's go."  She ignored Maedhros and followed her father.

As they entered the library once again, Ailsa felt the same charm she had experienced earlier. The drapes were now closed covering the windows for the night. Even in the artificial light of the various lamps, the library was a warm welcoming place. 

Ewan turned to his left and walked directly to the far end of the room. Reaching up, he pulled on a green leather book and it moved slightly.  A mechanical sound came from behind the bookcase and suddenly the first six shelves moved outward, opening as a door, exposing darkness within.

Ailsa moved cautiously toward the dark doorway. Her father reached just inside the opening and flicked on a hidden light switch, offering a better look.  There were stone steps leading down a few yards and she could see a cement floor continuing on.  She looked at her father, excitement filled her eyes.  "What's down there?"  Her father only smiled back.  From behind, she heard Maedhros voice, "It is the true legacy of Egla Tir."  Ewan threw him a questioning glance. With a slight shake of his head, Maedhros indicated "no."

"Let me go down first," Ewan offered and started his descent.  Although she was filled with curiosity, Ailsa carefully went down the stairs.  The steps were steep, and she was glad there was a handrail on the wall. 

Once at the bottom, she took a few steps through a short passage and stood in the doorway of what looked like a cellar. The room was large, the air felt warm and dry.  There was nothing damp about the place. Books of various sizes and rolled up scrolls filled the shelves on the wall in front of her.  There were stacks of shelves to her left with the same kind of books and scrolls on them.  To her right was a desk with a computer on top, ready to use.  Her father's voice followed her around the room.  "The air in the room is controlled to keep the documents and books safe from time and decay." 

With the excitement of someone who has stumbled onto a precious treasure, Ailsa walked to the far wall and opened one of the books.  Her eyes widened as she gently turned the pages.  It was a beautiful edition of the Book of Kells.  Each page was filled with Latin script and the amazing drawings and designs of Irish monks from centuries past.  The book was priceless, both monetarily and artistically.  Her father sat on a corner of the desk watching her, a pleased look on his face.  She put the book back and walked around the room checking random tomes, scanning various scrolls. 

"This is the legacy that your father has inherited."  Maedhros stood in the doorway and gave Ewan a slight bow.  Ewan nodded back to him. "These books and scrolls have been collected by the family for generations.  They contain histories, legends, myths, and stories of valor as well as tales of great evil.  By accepting the Egla Tir inheritance, your father has given his word that he will protect them."

 "I've taken on the task of cataloging and organizing all this," her father said as he gestured around the room. 

"Now I know why you've been so preoccupied lately." She looked around once more. "This is going to be quite a job," she admitted.  Ailsa clapped her hands together. "Well, I'm ready when you are. When do we start?"  She was excited at the thought of working with these wonderful volumes and the various documents. 

 
"Well, I won't be needing any help right away," Ewan slowly began. "I'll need to do some preliminary work before the actual cataloging can begin."  He smiled at her, but Ailsa could sense he wasn't telling her the whole truth.  Didn't he want her help?
 

Ailsa's feelings began to hurt.  "Okay.  I'll keep myself busy working on the library above. I'm sure it could use a little organizing as well."  Ailsa tried to sound light, but her voice was heavy with disappointment.  "I think that's a good idea," her father said, "It won't be long before it'll be time for you to join me down here."  Ailsa couldn't help noticing that her father spoke more to Maedhros than to her.  Maedhros only nodded his assent. 

No one said anything for a moment.  Ailsa decided she couldn't stand being down there another minute. "Well, I've had a big day.  I'm going to bed." She gave her father a quick kiss on the cheek.  She turned and walked silently past Maedhros and up the stairs to the main library.  Maedhros' "Good night, Ailsa" followed her up the steps.

She felt so foolish.  She only hoped her father hadn't seen how disappointed she was. When she got to her room, she didn't put on the lights, but sat on the window seat looking out at the night. The moon winked its bright eye as it peeked over the silhouette of the oak treetops. In a few days, it would light up the night world with its full silver glow.  Usually, Ailsa enjoyed such nights.  She sighed heavily; at least there was something to look forward to.

Back in the archive room Ewan fumed.  "I don't think we pulled that off very well, do you?"

Maedhros leaned against the desk.  "It would seem you were right after all."

"Did you see how disappointed she was? And did you see the look she gave you when she left? If you want her to dislike you, you're going about it the right way." Ewan was upset with the way things turned out. "Maedhros, I truly understand your concerns, but I can't and won't keep her in the dark much longer. I'm her father, and it's my decision!"

Maedhros eyes snapped to Ewan's face.  "And I am…" He stopped immediately; he knew better than to confront a father protecting his child. "…going to bed. Good night, Ewan."  He silently climbed the stairs leaving Ewan alone with his anger.

Later, as he stood on his balcony, Maedhros watched the waxing moon as it came out from behind high thin clouds and traveled across the night sky.  Although not in its full splendor, it still hung above him as a great blue-white beacon. Closing his eyes, he began to think of the coming full moon and his need of a better plan.

- 0 -

A few nights later, Ailsa again sat in her window seat and she let out a low sigh. It was very late, and the end of another day at Egla Tir. The moon filled the sky, its full-face bathing the grounds with the glow of false daylight.  She had tried to act as if nothing had happened, but it had been impossible.  She hadn't actually seen her father at all since their first night.  The doorway to the archive room remained closed whenever she was in the upper library. 

Ailsa had halfheartedly begun her cataloging. Her bruised feelings just wouldn't let her get into it.  Oh, there were some amazing editions of various histories and commentaries. She loved handling the leather bindings and reading snatches of original passages she had only previously read in textbooks.  Who knew, maybe this could be the place to kickstart her thesis? 

Ailsa's previous concern for her father had quickly turned to full-blown worry. He was even more preoccupied than before.  And now, he seemed to have put up a wall of secrecy as well.  Ailsa would have confronted Maedhros about it, but she hadn't seen him in as many days.  In desperation, she even thought about calling her mother, but decided that wouldn't be a good idea.  Kyle would be just as worthless.  She figured they would only tell her she was imagining things.

She sat a while trying to pull her thoughts together.  Something wasn't right.  Her gut told her that nothing was as it seemed.  She knew Maedhros was deliberately avoiding her.  And there was something important unspoken between she and her father.

Her attention was suddenly drawn to some movement below.  There was a figure moving across the lawn towards the garden.  It was Maedhros.  Why is he out so late?

Although his walk was a bit hurried, he wasn't sneaking around.  A little voice inside her whispered. Follow him.  Well, she thought, if she stayed well behind him, he'd never know she was there.

She quickly put on her jacket and left her room. Once outside, she hurried and caught up with Maedhros as he was just about to enter the woods.  He stopped for a moment and angled his head as if trying to make up his mind about something.  She stood at the top of the stone stairs ready to dive behind a bush if he looked in her direction.  He stood there for a moment more, then promptly walked into the trees.  Ailsa was down the stairs as quickly and quietly as she could. 

Thank God for the full moon, she thought as she rushed into the woods.  The path was easy to follow in the bright blue moonlight and she could see the back of Maedhros as he walked far ahead.  As she hurried to close the gap between them, she realized Maedhros had loosened his hair.  The night breeze made his long dark hair billow like a shadowy cape behind him.

She tried to follow as quietly as she could.  The rustling of the leaves in the mild wind and the gentle creaking of the tree limbs hopefully covered any loud missteps she might make. When Maedhros suddenly turned off the path, she knew he wasn't heading for the cliff. Where can he be going? Ailsa hesitated for a moment, but her curiosity and the bright moonshine spurred her on.  She could still see Maedhros walking up ahead, his tall figure bathed in the moon's glow.  Suddenly, he made another turn and was gone.   

She raced to the spot where she had last seen Maedhros before he disappeared.  She walked a bit more, searching for any sign of movement.  The breeze swirled around her body encouraging her forward.  She had decided to turn back when she began to hear the most incredible sound.  Someone was singing.

Never in all her life had she ever heard singing like this. The song filled the woods with its mysterious presence.  Her breath caught in her chest as she walked toward the haunting melody.  Ailsa knew she had to find the singer.  She tried not to rush, because she was afraid she'd startle him and he'd stop.  But she already knew whom she'd find.

Peering from the safety of the trees, she saw him walking, eyes closed, arms slightly stretched out at his sides.  The skin of his face glowed like the moonlight as he walked among the trees, going from light into the shadow.  His mouth forming words unknown to her. Strange, wonderful words…their sound rang in her heart.

As he walked deeper into the trees, she knew what she had to do.  Ailsa didn't care if she was lost. She had to follow his song, to find out where he was going.  She pursued him, quickly ducking behind a large trunk as Maedhros entered a circular clearing. 

In the middle of the clearing lay a pool of water and a long stone bench to one side.  The moon reflected its cold light into the mirrored surface of the water, and bathed the entire clearing in its unearthly illumination.  Maedhros sat on the bench looking at the pool and began another song.

This one was quite different.  Ailsa could feel the sadness in this one.  No, it wasn't just sadness, it was grief.  A pure grief so deep, it clutched at Ailsa's heart with its cold fingers making her want to sob into her hands.  As he sang, he turned his face towards the sky.  His long hair hung motionless down his torso.  His countenance so noble in bearing was so sad to see.  On and on he sang his song of torment.  It hurt to look at him, but look at him she did.  Something deep inside her made her need to comfort him, despite the pain she knew she'd feel if she even touched him. 

She heard the soft voice inside her whispering. Leave him now. She listened to him for a few moments more then slowly turned and began to walk back.  She glanced only once more in Maedhros' direction. He was still sitting there as he sang his song. 

Thank goodness, he hasn't seen me.  She looked up at the white moon. She recognized the same glow she'd seen coming from Maedhros face.  Suddenly she was very tired. She knew she had to get back to the house, and then a comforting sensation filled her whole being.  Somehow she knew she'd find her way back. 

As Ailsa walked quietly away, Maedhros ended his song and turned his tear filled eyes towards the path she had taken. Of all my children, what is it about this one…?  Something is in the air…I can feel it!  He slowly lowered his eyes and began to sing again.

To be continued.

Chapter Text

The two male figures sat behind the manor house in the velvet darkness, each deep in his own thoughts.

Ewan enjoyed the feeling of relief; pleased he no longer had to pretend.  Ailsa finally knew Maedhros' true identity and the rich history their family had in Egla Tir. True, she would need time to digest everything she'd learned tonight, but the rest would fall into place more easily now.

Maedhros' thoughts weren't so certain.  Sitting motionless as he stared out into the surrounding night, no one would suspect the deep emotional turmoil warring inside him. 

He had only wanted to let her feel some of the gentler memories he kept hidden. Something of what he and his family had been before the Oath. The noble beauty of the Blessed Realm, and the way of life that was now lost to him forever. A mere glance into that part of him that would strengthen their bond. This is what he had wanted to share with her. But once their minds connected, he was helpless to keep his thoughts under control. He could no more stop what had passed between them anymore than she could have.

Unable to move on the cliffs, he watched helplessly as Ailsa nearly collapsed under the weight of the truth. That he was able to harm her in any way filled him with dark self-reproach.  How could she not flee from him as soon as she could?  He despaired that he would never be able to look into her familiar eyes again without finding contempt reflected in them. Maedhros knew he would not be able to bear it…not this time.

Ewan had stopped him from following her into the house, but he needed to know she was truly unharmed, that she would in time forgive his weakness on the cliffs. He could no longer stand the waiting. "Ewan, I think we should find Ailsa. To make sure she is all right."  Although his voice sounded calm, he was far from it.

"Don't worry, Maedhros.  She's probably sitting quietly somewhere thinking about everything that's happened tonight."  Even in the darkness, Maedhros could easily see the smile on the face a father who thought he knew his child.

"I only thought she might need to talk to…us."  Maedhros started to rise.

Ewan held up his hand, "She'll find us if she needs to."  Reluctantly, Maedhros sat back down.

The minutes ticked by. Ewan sighed. "You know, it's been an amazing night.  Not just what we've been able to tell Ailsa, but the general feel of the entire evening. Earlier, I sensed that something was wrong. I found myself compelled to drop what I was doing and rush to the back of the house. I came out into the garden just in time to see Ailsa coming out of the trees at a dead run." In that same darkness, Ewan couldn't see Maedhros flinch slightly as he spoke. "It was actually quite a strange experience.  All I knew, was my daughter needed me and I had to find her."  Ewan shook his head in amazement.

Suddenly, Maedhros straightened in his chair. "You did make sure everything was replaced properly before you left the Archives?" Holding his breath, he waited for Ewan's answer.

"Of course I did," Ewan quickly replied. What an absurd idea. He paused for a moment.  "I'm sure I did."  But this time his voice suddenly lacked a convincing timbre to it.

Maedhros stood up. "Ewan…!" He quickly turned and walked towards the house; Ewan followed.

- O -

Ailsa felt around unsuccessfully, searching blindly for a light switch. As she stared down the dark passage, she knew she wasn't going to let that stop her from finding out where the dancing light was coming from. There was something else making its way down the passage, the very distinct sound of running water.

As she proceeded cautiously down the long corridor, she felt the coldness of the rock wall through her fingertips. She couldn't see much detail in the semi-gloom, which made her feel a little uneasy.  That and the affects of the large tumbler of Chardonnay she had consumed, now made her once steady resolve begin to slowly drain away with each advancing step. "Damn it, what's wrong with me," she finally chastised herself, but continued on. She took repeated peeks over her shoulder at the open doorway and the Archive room. Its familiar light helped to bolster her determination.

She could feel the cool moisture on her face and bare forearms as she moved closer to the opening.  The clear sound of running water grew louder. Hesitating just a moment before walking the last few steps, she took in a quick breath and tried to prepare herself for what would be waiting around the corner. 

Ailsa went through the arched doorway and immediately winced at the onslaught of light.  She brought her hand up to shield her eyes from the glare and turned her head aside to allow them to adjust to the brightness. Dropping her hand away, Ailsa cautiously raised her eyes. Still squinting against the dazzling light, she began to make out motion within the glare.  Her eyes widened in amazement after she began to see just what the movement was.

Sudden panic consumed her mind, and she instinctively backed away from the glistening light.  She kept on backing away until her body connected abruptly with the rock surface of the wall behind her, knocking the breath out of her. Her mind already pushed to the brink with the evening's revelations was now teetering on the very edge of rational thought.  The wall behind her felt slick with moisture, her hands desperately searched for a safe handhold for some kind of support.

At the back of a large cave room was a rock wall and the reason for the moisture and sound cascading down the center of it.  A small waterfall was coming out of the edge of the ceiling, falling into a very large pool of water below.  However, it was the strange mist suspended above it that had made her back away.  A curtain of shifting light glowed above the water in an iridescent mist in various shades of yellow, blue, green, and red. All this color within a pulsating brilliant white.  Like a small display of the Northern Lights it shimmered to and fro, pictures of movement and light within with no clear borders or boundaries.  The shimmering vision was the only source of illumination that filled the otherwise lightless room. 

Ailsa swallowed hard; her eyes never left the shimmering mist. It was already difficult for her to breathe, but she took a few deep breaths trying to steady herself. After a moment, she pushed her body away from the safety of the rock wall. She didn't know if it was the half bottle of wine or what, but as frightened as she felt, she found she couldn't run away. She discovered she didn't want to run away. Her sense of wonder had begun to overcome her fear. 

Captured by the unseen power of the lights, she felt as if unseen hands were drawing her into the room.  She shook her head trying to clear her mind. She hoped what she was seeing was a hallucination brought on by shock and…other things. Every reasonable cell of her brain kept screaming that it couldn't be real. Her heart told her it was something else. Her feet felt heavy as she forced them toward the apparition, all the while staring at the visions in the mist.

They were scenes in movement, with no logical sequence to them.  She had hardly time to register one image before it passed to the next. A wooded area of thick silver trees with crowns of yellow leaves stood swaying on a beautiful sunny day, but it would suddenly change as a phalanx of riders on horseback galloped through another, darker woodland.  Before she could focus on the details of the riders, the picture changed again, and an open field of thick grass appeared. A party of nine cloaked figures, some of whom seemed to be children, made their way across it.  Abruptly, the sea of grass turned into a sea of churning blue water with beautiful swan shaped vessels sailing quietly upon it.  Made of silver-grey wood with shining sails, the ships proudly journeyed to some unseen port.  Just as quickly, the scene changed and the ships were burning as they lay tied to their quay.  Ailsa knew she had seen these burning ships before.  They were the same ships that burned in the visions she shared with Maedhros on the cliffs. 

On and on the scenes wove in and out of each other.  There were gruesome battles, and attacks on and by various types of humans.  Ailsa glimpsed tall beautiful people walking through another wooded area, and watched in amazement as they glowed in the sunlight. Golden figures of unearthly grace, briefly there and then gone.

There were also frighteningly loathsome creatures straight out of the darkest foulness of hell. The misshapen creatures stood in the rain beating their curved swords against wooden shields. Their twisted mouths yelling something ugly in the night. Ailsa could hear her own breathing coming in rapid pulls with fright as well as in awe as she came nearer to the brightness.  She couldn't possibly be seeing what she was seeing, but there it was…just above the pool right in front of her.

She stopped her advance when the toe of her shoe came in contact with the low rock wall surrounding the pool.  She glanced down and saw her pale face reflected in the pool's surface.  Staring blankly at herself for a moment, she couldn't help thinking the poor soul looking back must be raving mad.  Then, the flickering light pulled her attention back to it.  The segments began to slow down.

Completely mesmerized, she watched as the view now moved up the wall of a stone fortress. It stopped and Ailsa felt as if she was actually standing on the top of the highest wall of a multi-tiered city built around the great crag of a mountain.  It was night once again; in the sky one or two stars blazed brightly in competition with the full moon. 

Standing near the edge of the wall was a lone figure of a man.  He stood bathed in the soft blue aura of moonlight as it reflected off the long pale blond hair falling down the back of his light colored tunic. Ailsa could see only a small portion of his face.  Part of his moonlit hair was pulled back and braided into a long tail that nearly reached his waist. There was a smaller section at his temple braided around and behind his ear. Ailsa smiled as she noticed like Maedhros, his ear was decidedly pointed. He's an Elf.  She smiled as she tried to see more.

He stood frozen in the moment; his angular jaw slightly clenched.  The night breeze gently played with the small braid, making it dance behind him. Ailsa imagined she could actually feel the breeze as she stood watching the isolated Elf. He exhaled deeply and his shoulders dropped slowly. His head lowered as it followed his gaze to something in his hands. He began to toy with what looked like a dagger.  He turned the dagger over and over. Once or twice he ran his long tapered fingers over the ivory handle tracing the beautifully carved horse's head of its hilt as if it were a precious object to him. Ailsa was so close to him now, she could make out the etched design of a rearing stallion on the blade. 

The Elf cradled the dagger and slowly tipped his head back, fixing his eyes on the brightest star in the night sky.  His jaw began to move slightly and Ailsa realized he was praying. She was aware of a strange and growing feeling coming from him; something about him made a heartbreaking ache grow in her chest.  He was so vulnerable there in the lonely night.  She knew that he was waiting for something…something he was dreading very much. 

Without thinking, her hand slowly rose to touch his arm.  Her fingertips had barely touched the mist when suddenly a hand gripped her wrist pulling it away sharply. "Daro, Ailsa! Avogaro!" Maedhros shouted at her. Startled, Ailsa let out a small yelp.

"Let go of me!" She demanded as she pulled her wrist free. The figure in the vision suddenly whirled around…he had heard them.  The dagger was now a weapon in his hand ready to be wielded at a moment's notice. Ailsa froze. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the Elf's exquisite face in the pale moonlight…a face of perfect masculine beauty. He stood as a warrior now, his intense dark eyes wide with anticipation, all vulnerability gone. His gaze darted about looking for the source of the intrusion. His well-shaped lips mouthed words she could barely hear. "Man na si?  Pedo!"

Finally, puzzlement furrowed his high smooth brow. He obviously couldn't see anyone. She heard a sharp intake of breath beside her and looked at Maedhros.  He had heard the words the Elf spoke, and he was clearly stunned by it.  "By the Valar," he murmured.

Though furious at Maedhros' interruption, Ailsa quickly turned her attention back to the shimmer, but the image was already slowly dissolving into a richly decorated candlelit bedroom.  At the foot of the bed stood a small knot of fair-haired men.  Behind them sad faces could be seen: choked and torn, some fought their tears while others allowed their misery to consume them.

Ailsa's attention was drawn to a golden haired young man standing by the headboard. He wore a leather tunic over his well-built frame; his long blond hair falling past his shoulders. In his hand he held a circlet of gold; a large bright diamond sparkled in the center of it. Although he stood silently, the set of his shoulders betrayed his sadness.  He had been crying, the trail of his tears reflected the candlelight off his smooth cheeks. 

In the center of the bed, a man's body lay motionless. Both his long hair and trimmed beard were white as snow, but his aged pale face still bore a handsome countenance.  A woman, silver streaks threading her long dark hair, lay sobbing across his still body.  The coverlet on the bed and the banners held by the grieving guards at the door depicted a white horse on a green field. Was this the death of some king? Was this what the Elf on the wall had been dreading? 

Ailsa had no time to think about these questions now as stone cold anger filled her entire being. She turned on Maedhros, her eyes seething.  Her father stood at the opening of the room, his face a mixture of curiosity and foreboding.  "Let me guess." She gestured adamantly around the room and pointed at the shimmer in front of the waterfall. "This is something else you haven't told me." Her voice rang coldly against the rock walls.

Maedhros stood absolutely still his eyes glued to the shimmer. The emotional wall around him, thicker than ever. Ailsa didn't care. "Well?" She demanded. "Who's got a tale for me now?" 

She looked past Maedhros and saw a small table and chair sitting in the corner of the room.  She brushed by him and angrily strode over the smooth rock floor to the chair and sat down. Folding her hands on the empty table top, she waited.  Ewan reached over and flicked a switch and a long string of light bulbs attached high on the rock walls came to life. Ailsa could clearly see the rest of the room now. 

It wasn't a particularly large room.  Rust colored rocks formed walls on three sides in front of her. There was the table and chair she sat at, and on the other side of the doorway the rock wall seemed to protrude into a waist high shelf.  A small wooden chest bound in iron was the only thing on it. 

A low wall of piled stones encircled the pool.  The light from the shimmering mist still shone with its bright intensity.  She sat back, looking at her father who stood apprehensively by the opening. Ewan waited for Maedhros to say something. Like a pillar of stone, Maedhros stood with his back to them, still watching the shimmering visions. 

"Maedhros! I'm not going to live forever, so could you please get on with it." Ailsa's patience was at an end. 

Maedhros' gaze seemed to have dropped to the pool surface. Without turning, he spoke. "I had hoped you would not have to know about this for a very long time." His voice was filled with remorse; each word came with difficulty.  He let out a low sigh as he wished with all his heart that he could be standing anywhere other than where he stood at that very moment.

He seemed in some kind of pain, but Ailsa wasn't going to let that deter her.  "I'm still waiting…" She shoved the words out coldly, unflinching. 

Maedhros turned and his eyes came up to study the face of the defiant young woman sitting at the table.  Her body tense with anger, eyes reflecting the hurt that his secrets had caused.  Now she was expecting him to reveal the last secret that would probably destroy any bond between them. His heart grieved at the thought.

"Honey, I don't care how angry you are, you have to understand. Maedhros has his reasons."  Ewan's voice was begging her to understand.

Ailsa didn't want to understand. "I don't care.  I'm pissed at both of you right now," she fumed. "I don't want any more surprises. Just how many more secrets do you have Maedhros?"  She asked pointedly.

"That's quite enough, young lady," Ewan commanded, his voice sharper and louder than it had been in years. "I'm not going to stand here and let you act like a petulant child. This isn't all about you or your hurt feelings you know.  This is something far bigger than either one of us. You'll speak to Maedhros with the respect he deserves." Ailsa eyes widened at her father's angry rebuke.  It had been a long time since her father last chastised her.  His words smarted and made her feel very much the errant child.

Maedhros put up his hand to stop Ewan from saying anymore.  He looked sadly at Ailsa for a moment.  "I only have one more secret, Ailsa."  His voice was laced with resignation, and barely above a whisper.  He walked over to the rock shelf and opened the chest.  He cautiously lifted a brown leather pouch by its drawstrings.  In a few long strides, he covered the distance between them. Watching her face, he gently set it down in front of her. Ailsa looked at it, then at Maedhros.  His face was still inscrutable.  "Go ahead and open it…carefully," he finally said. Deep sadness clouded his grey eyes.

Ailsa looked at her father who nodded.  "It's all right.  You need to see what's inside." Ewan could feel the excitement rising within him. He almost envied her.

Taking a step back from the table, Maedhros watched as Ailsa adjusted herself in the chair.  She picked up the pouch, and gingerly pulled at the edges to open it.  A bright glow lit up the features of her face as soon as she began to open it.  Before Maedhros or her father could stop her, she quickly turned the pouch upside down and let its contents fall into her waiting hand.  A small cry from Maedhros went unnoticed by Ailsa and Ewan. Both were intent on the contents lying in her hand.

A round faceted jewel no larger than a golfball lay in her palm.  Shining like a beacon, it pulsated with an inner radiant life. Warmth, like that of a living being emanated from deep within the stone, a beautiful wonderful warm glow.  Never in all her life had Ailsa seen anything to rival it. The warmth quickly increased in intensity, growing to an uncomfortable level. Then it began to burn like fire. She grimaced in pain.

"Daro!" Maedhros gasped and reached out towards her. Ailsa quickly put the stone on the pouch and placed it on the table before her. Maedhros took her hand in his and quickly looked at her palm.  It was pink, but there was no damage to the skin. Maedhros sighed with relief.  She pulled her hand from his grasp and inspected it herself.  "It felt almost like a chemical burn."  She said, amazed there wasn't any blistering. 

"The jewel is one of the Silmarilli made by my father. It can not be held by mortals or by those who are…impure." Maedhros' deep voice cracked as he spoke. 

Even as Ailsa rubbed her palm, her eyes were riveted to the shining jewel.  It's so beautiful.  I can't imagine why he keeps it hidden.  Suddenly, memories she had shared earlier with Maedhros flooded into her mind as she looked at the glowing gem lying on the table.  Her brows rose as the truth finally began to dawn on her.  This was it, this was the answer to all the pain and regret Maedhros suffered.  She knew it in her heart as she looked up at him. "This is what your oath was all about, isn't it?"

"Yes." He answered flatly with lowered eyes.

Thank God! Everything they had told her was true; the proof lay shining before her.  She rejoiced with the thought. But how could this jewel possibly drive anyone to madness? Ailsa frowned as she gazed deeper into the crystal.  "How could anything so beautiful cause so much suffering?"  She couldn't stop looking at it.

Maedhros motioned to Ewan who came over to the table and, using a handkerchief from his pocket, picked up the jewel. Ailsa numbly watched him place the jewel back into the pouch, pull the drawstrings closed, and place it back in the wooden chest on the shelf.  She felt confused, wondering if it was still the wine that was affecting her, or did she actually feel sad that the jewel was back in the pouch.  Her eyes were drawn to the shimmering mist once again. "So what does that mini Aurora Borealis have to do with anything?"

Maedhros had to reenact this scene hundreds of times in the many years he had dwelt in this world. Each of his children had come to this moment, and he would have to tell the same story over and over...to a point. The tale he told Ailsa in the garden tonight was that version. He had always known it was part of his punishment to relive the tale again and again with each generation. But the telling of even the abbreviated version weighed heavily on his soul. Until now, only Richard Matthews had been told the entire story, and Maedhros would bear the memories of Richard's reaction for centuries to come. 

He had told Ewan the same small part of the tale and was thankful that he had been satisfied with that. But how much did he dare tell Ailsa? Because of the link between them, he was certain that she would demand more.  Ailsa had shared too much of his mind to be satisfied with anything less. He mourned the fact it would have to be like this.

Maedhros rose to his full height and began.

"Our people lived in the lands of Aman. As I have said before, there are very few places in your world that rival its beauty and magic. The greatest creations of my world were the Two Trees of Valinor; one glowed with a silver light and the other of gold. The Two Trees, as my people called them, inspired great reverence and wonder, and their magical light illuminated all the cities in the Blessed Realm. 

My father, Feanor, was a great craftsman.  He had been trained by my mother's father, Mahtan, and the master of all crafts, Aulë, one of the Valar. With their instruction, he was able to make his greatest inventions and perfect his skills, including the art of fabricating gems and crystals.  He made three jewels that contained the light of the Two Trees. And like the Two Trees, they could never be duplicated.  My father called them "The Silmarilli."  Ailsa watched Maedhros' face as he spoke; there was both pride and doom in his shining eyes.

"Although everyone in Aman loved the jewels, my father gave his heart totally to them.  His increasing love for them made him grow arrogant and selfish. He would wear the jewels with great pride at festivals so all could see his greatest possessions, but would allow none to touch them." Maedhros stopped, the words tasted bitter on his tongue.

"The Valar are beings of pure spirit who were the guardians of my world. Their task was to fulfill the Vision of Ilúvatar and through their purity, they kept our world in balance. But not all the Valar were uncorrupted.  A great evil came into being at that time in the person of Melkor. Of all the Valar, he was consumed with dark envy and was jealous of anyone wielding the power of creation.  Melkor's black ambition was to dominate and control the will of others, and he wanted absolute power over Aman. He lusted most after the light of my father's Silmarilli." 

"Melkor seduced my father with lies, influencing him until my father unwittingly locked the jewels away, allowing no one to see them.  Nothing could induce my father to bring them out.  Even when the Two Trees were poisoned and began to die by Melkor's evil, he foolishly refused to give up the Silmarilli to restore them.  Melkor had schemed for this and stole the jewels, slaying my grandfather, Finwe, in the process.  As I said, his death was a source of great sorrow to all our people." 

Maedhros paused as he fought back a sob deep in his throat as he remembered his grandfather's death. "My father was beside himself with rage…and grief.  His father had been slain and his finest work had been stolen.  Even with the knowledge the Silmarilli had burned Melkor's hands black and would forevermore torment him, it did not sway him from his lust for revenge." 

"Melkor escaped to Middle-earth.  My father wanted to leave Aman…to pursue Melkor, avenge my grandfather's death, and retrieve the Silmarilli.  The Valar for whatever their reasons denied him permission to do this, but his pride and his need for revenge would not allow him to stay.  He brought my brothers and I together and we listened as he made his Oath.  He wished the Everlasting Darkness on himself if he should ever fail to pursue anyone who stole or kept a Silmaril from him. We brothers did not hesitate to stand at our father's side and eagerly…no, more than that...joyously swore the same Oath.  We all wanted to take our revenge on Melkor for all the evil he had done in Aman, and especially to our family." 

"What we did not know was that the rashness and the pride of this Oath would destroy our people.  The Oath bound us to a path that led to obsession and revenge at all cost."  Maedhros stopped, and stood shaking, sick with the memories.  He looked at Ailsa and Ewan's eyes as he spoke. He found no condemnation burning in them, only deep concern for him.  He knew he could go on.

"Through the long years, we fought anyone to regain possession of the Silmarilli.  It did not matter who they were or whose lives, theirs or ours, we had to forfeit in order to get them back. I can still hear the echoing cries of my dying kinsmen as we continued to give blind obedience to the Oath.  Oh, we tried to forsake it, to stay our hand, but in the end, it was always there calling us back to our duty.  Our family became cursed among our people and neither friend nor kin, nor our exile from Aman could influence us. The Oath had to be satisfied."

There seemed a blackness shrouding him as he spoke. A visible essence of the Oath that had surrounded his soul then. "During the years that followed, we lost one of the jewels forever, and my father and brothers died one by one until only my brother Maglor and I were left.  Maglor tried every argument he had to make me abandon the Oath. For him, it was over. There was no longer any reason to go on."

Maedhros eyes filled with tears as he thought of his beautiful brother and how he had begged him to relinquish their claim to the remaining Silmarilli.  To put aside the Oath and live normal lives once again.  He could no longer look at Ailsa and Ewan.  He began to pace up and back, but continued with this very last bit of his narrative.

"But even then…in the fullness of my stupid pride, I would not listen to him and forsake the Oath.  Instead, I persuaded Maglor to join me in one last attempt to regain the last of the jewels. So once again, we killed without caring.  We retrieved the jewels, but found to our horror, we had become too corrupt to ever hold them again." Maedhros stopped pacing and smiled sadly at the irony of it. He raised his hand and looked at it, eyes still glistening with unshed tears.

"The jewels burned away the skin of our hands, tormenting us with the knowledge that our pursuit of the Oath had made us unworthy to keep them.  My brother watched in dismay as I slipped into madness with the realization of what we had lost. My life became nothing.  I…I…could not bear to live with the shame.  My only thought was to end the madness and my life."

Ewan and Ailsa quickly looked at each other.  They couldn't believe this normally controlled gentle being standing before them could ever be driven to such despair. But then, they couldn't imagine Maedhros being capable of doing the acts he so readily confessed to. He was an Elf after all, and no ordinary man. The room fell silent, even the waterfall seemed to have quieted as they listened to the raw grief in Maedhros' voice.

"You cannot comprehend how horrendous my life had become. It is as if all the crushing evil I had wrought in the name of the Oath came crashing down on me with a weight that was unbearable. I was mad with grief. I did the only thing I thought right. Holding the Silmaril in my hand, I threw myself into a fiery chasm in an attempt to end my suffering and destroy the jewel forever."  Maedhros turned and faced the shimmer.  His voice was so choked with emotion; he had to clear his throat twice before continuing. 

"I closed my eyes and jumped from the edge into the blessed river of lava below and the nothingness I longed for."  Maedhros' body began to gently shake. Ailsa and Ewan didn't know if it was from crying or if he was laughing. "But the Valar had other plans for me."

"I felt my body land, but felt no burning pain from the liquid rock.  I opened my eyes and found myself lying on the floor of this cave.  I saw the Silmaril glowing on the floor where it had fallen from my hand.  The waterfall just as you see it falling into the pool below, and the Shimmer weaving its visions above in the mist." Maedhros shoulders sagged and his head fell forward. "It seemed that my punishment was to live.  Exiled from everyone and everything that I had ever known, forced to watch through the shimmer, scenes from my world and beyond. To live with the guilt and the torment of regret…forever."  His voice quietly trailed off.

Ailsa wiped away the tears that welled up in her eyes as she struggled to relax the catch in her throat.  She looked at her father; his eyes were fixed on Maedhros' back, his face unreadable. Maedhros stood waiting, the falling water down the rock face of the wall the only sound. She had wanted the whole story…hell, she had demanded it from him.  And now she had heard it all.

His tale showed Maedhros as a man of deep passions and pride.  One who was honor bound to fulfill an oath even if it meant the killing and destroying of his own kind.  Blindly obeying his honor past the point of reason.  But there had been another Maedhros who fought valiantly against the very power that drove him to commit these crimes against his own kin.  And in the end, it had been this wiser, gentler soul who had triumphed, but at such a terrible cost. How many centuries had he been made to live with that fact? She didn't know what he expected their reaction to be.  She only knew that he was waiting for them to speak.  How could she say anything when all she wanted to do was cry for him?

Ewan cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence. "And you don't have any idea how you got here?" He asked earnestly.  Ailsa felt her jaw drop in disbelief; she couldn't believe her father's question.

 
Maedhros turned, his brows knitted together in confusion as he looked at Ewan. "No, Ewan, I do not," he confessed.
 
"It seems to me that there should be a rational explanation how you could have traveled from one world to another."  Her father's hand came up and absently touched his jaw in contemplation as he tried to figure out the physics of Maedhros' journey.
 

"Jeez, dad, what are you talking about?"  Ailsa exclaimed.  "Maedhros has just opened his soul to us and all you can think of is how he got here?" 

Ewan looked surprised by her statement. "I only thought that when we add this story to the Archives, we should have all the details," he reasoned.  "This is far too important to leave unexplained." As he watched Ailsa roll her eyes, he realized his curiosity might be a bit ill timed.  He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry.  I guess I was just too wrapped up in the story." Ailsa smiled wanly back at him.

Her attention was drawn back to the figure standing near the Shimmer.  Now the connection she had felt with him didn't seem so strange. After all, it was blood calling to blood. She and her father were now part of this amazing person and his life.

Ailsa found herself feeling very protective of Maedhros as she watched him staring vacantly at the rock floor before him. He was slightly hunched over, his arms snugly tucked around his middle as he swayed slightly.  He looked like he was ready to collapse.

Getting up from the chair, she gestured to her father and then pointed toward Maedhros. "Dad, let's leave all that until later." Her father nodded in agreement. She quickly walked to Maedhros' side. "I think we all could use some air."  As she spoke, Ailsa gently touched his arm and then his cheek. His skin felt like ice. Feeling her touch, Maedhros' eyes rose to meet hers.  Those grey eyes of his that always just hinted at the emotion that hid behind them now stared back at her empty and desolate. They were almost childlike in their naked devastation.  She knew she had to do something for him.

Taking his hand in hers, she brought her face close to his. "Come with me, Maedhros. Okay?" She smiled and gently pulled him toward the opening. Ewan watched Ailsa take command of Maedhros, urging him through the doorway. He was proud of how quickly she understood what must be done for him. As they passed, she touched Ewan's shoulder. "Do you want to come up for some air too?" She asked squeezing it slightly.

"Actually, I was going to get all this into the computer before I turn in. You two go on," He said with raised brows.  He knew he wouldn't be much help at the moment. Ailsa knew this too as she smiled back at him.  She led Maedhros out of the cave room.

Still holding tight to Maedhros' hand, she maneuvered him down the passageway and up the stairs to the library. Once in the library, she released him.  Maedhros walked silently past her and paused for a moment at one of the window seats, then sat down.  His hand, white knuckled, clutched the edge of the pillow. Frowning, his eyes were fixed on the wood floor under his feet.

Ailsa's heart broke as she heard him expel a long ragged sigh.  The pain written across his face was almost too much to look at. She went to the window seat and sat next to him. Her hands shook slightly as she fought to keep the hot tears that filled her eyes from escaping down her face.  How could she comfort him? Did she even have the right to try?

Maedhros' ears were filled with the cries of the dying.  He watched as his sword sliced through pale Elven flesh again and again, hearing the last desperate breath of each of his vanquished prey.  They fell, first one then another; his armor was splattered with their precious blood.  His hand and sword were sticky with it. The thick stench of burning bodies and buildings filled the air. Death hung all around him like a cloak, and still he looked for more to wreak his vengeance on.  The hardness of his heart encouraged the cold killer he had become…they all had to pay…he had sworn it.

Ailsa waited hoping Maedhros would find some release from his anguished stupor.  Finally, she cleared her throat.  "Maedhros…?" 

Somewhere on the wind, he heard someone calling his name.  Maedhros stood in the middle of the carnage trying to listen. Deep inside him, he knew he needed to hear this voice; it held the promise of escape. Surrounded by the heat of the burning city and the smell of blood, he no longer wished to look at the bodies that littered the once bright streets of Menegroth. His breathing slowed as a rush of revulsion coursed through his body. It was always the same: first the bloodlust, then the aching regret.  He strained to hear the voice calling to him.

Ailsa tried to swallow the lump that lingered in her throat, and gently touched his arm. He slowly turned his head and looked at her with agony filled eyes.  "I'm so sorry," was all she could get out.  She was sorry for the burden of what he had to live with…she was sorry for not understanding and acting like a child tonight…she was sorry that life was so brutally unfair. 

Maedhros heard Ailsa's words, and saw the tears in her eyes. Despite what she now knew of his past, they did not judge him. Her eyes were filled only with worry and this touched his shattered heart.

She felt his arm go around her shoulders, hugging her closer to him. It was a gesture of both need and comfort.  Resting her head on his shoulder, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, hoping to impart whatever soothing calm and strength she could lend to his wounded soul.  He lay his cheek on the top of her head. "You have nothing to be sorry for, little one," he spoke softly as a father would comforting a child.

"No, you don't understand." She said, pushing gently away to an arm's length of comfort.  She studied his pale empty face. "I'm sorry that you've been made to suffer for your mistakes like this. I mean, you were misguided…sure.  But I just can't believe that somewhere out there in the cosmos, someone hasn't seen the good in you."  And there was good inside him, she remembered the deep shame that poured out of him on the cliffs.  Remorse like that doesn't come from an evil heart.

"You could've easily died jumping into that chasm, but you didn't. I mean, to save you and not forgive you?"  She blushed at her awkwardness. "I just think that…after all this time…you've suffered enough.  And, my God, to struggle with this burden…alone."  She paused, the realization suddenly hitting her hard. "You've been bearing all this completely on your own, haven't you?"  Maedhros didn't have to answer, she knew he had.

"It is no more than I deserve," he answered. Maedhros turned his head to the side unable to look at her.  He knew what she meant. Generation after generation lived in this house, but he was always alone.  Any chance of true companionship with his progeny was destroyed the moment his secret was revealed and they realized what he was. He was always the outsider, ever the stranger to even his own kin. 

She squeezed his arms, her throat threatening to close up on her again. "Maedhros, you're not alone anymore. Dad and I are here for you." She bit her lip slightly trying to control her voice. "It doesn't matter what happened before. The person who did those things no longer exists."  It was a declaration she needed him to hear. "You are worthy of forgiveness." One disobedient tear made its way down her cheek; she quickly wiped it away. 

Maedhros' face softened at the sound of Ailsa's words. They were like welcome rain to parched earth. Through all the long years, he had given up any hope of forgiveness.  He was convinced that there could never be any forgiveness for what he had done, and he would never know that word again.  But now as he looked into the earnest eyes of this girl, this child of his blood, sitting and trying with all her might to comfort him, he saw that forgiveness.  After all she knew about him, she still thought him worthy of it.  Knowing this, he felt the heavy burden he carried in his heart lightened just a little.  A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.  He placed his hand on his chest in a salute. "Thank you.  I can not tell you what your words mean to me."

Ailsa returned his smile. Wrapping her arms around him again, she hugged him for all she was worth.  He hugged her back fervently, and they sat there for some time. She knew she hadn't released him from his grief, but she took solace in the knowledge that he knew he was no longer alone. 

"Well," she sniffed, "I still think we both could use some air."  Maedhros' smile widened as he nodded in agreement.  They left the library together.  He helped her on with her jacket before going into the chill night air.  As they stepped into the dark, Ailsa knew this would be a very quiet walk.  At least there wouldn't be any more surprises.

- O -

Later in her room, Ailsa lay in her bed trying to fall asleep without much success.  No one was going to get much sleep tonight, she decided. She knew that Maedhros would be standing on his balcony staring off into the frosty night and her father, well, he would be busily working down in the Archive room.  Her own mind was a whirl of different images from the longest night she'd ever known. 

She was now part of a family history unlike anyone else's, and with her father, she was the inheritor of the greatest secret that ever was.  The future that was so uncertain for her just a few weeks ago, now beckoned with promise.  She felt the possibility of everything. 

To be continued.

Translations:

Daro, Ailsa! Avogaro! = Stop Ailsa! Do not do it!

Man na si?  Pedo! - Who is there? Speak!

Daro! = Stop!

Chapter Text

"Go now. Bring him out."  Although the words were softly spoken, each one sliced across her heart like the edge of a razor-sharp blade. Still she hesitated as she prayed for any sign of a miracle.  Knowing all the while that in the end, she would have to obey.
 
Sitting in one of the two chairs he built, Maedhros picked up the wooden figurine from the cloth lying across his lap and cradled it in his hand. Needing no additional light other than the Shimmer, he smiled as he inspected his handiwork. The seed oil he had just finished rubbing into the carved wood had helped to create the illusion of soft feathers. The tilt of the tiny bird's head and its raised wings were a single precious moment captured from the remnant of a bough that had fallen after a recent storm. It was his physical interpretation of the little voice that had brought him back from the brink of despair during the first bleak days of his arrival. The short years that followed had not dimmed the sound of that voice.
 
Although the small wooden bird looked as if it was ready to take flight, it perched quietly in the safety of Maedhros' fingers. It was to be a present for his savior…his other tithen aiwe. If only he had the proper tools and a forge, he would have shaped the bird out of silver. He would then add delicate knotting and swirls to make a fine ornament for her hair. But the forest was his only source of material so he had to be satisfied with that.
 
A smile crept slowly across his full lips. The anniversary of her birth was approaching. Unlike the Eldar, her people did not have the power to know the moment of begetting.  Instead, they celebrated the birth of a child on that date each year.
 
As he ran his thumb along the bird's tiny beak, he hoped Elizabeth would be pleased with it. He wanted her to have this token of his affection…of his gratitude for all the things she had done for him. She had loyally stood by him while he regained his strength, and helped his mind to heal.  Some how she continued to keep him secret from her people. He knew it had been hard at times to do this, but her courage and resourcefulness was remarkable in one so young.
 
Besides the extra food she brought from the Bramford kitchens, she also continued to bring scrolls and books from her family's library to help nourish his mind. She even brought him some of her brothers' clothing: allowing him the freedom to venture out more easily into the countryside on his quest for knowledge.  He endured his banishment with these small comforts, and her visits filling his solitary days.
 
He still did not know what his future held, but he knew it was not to be confined to the Shimmer and the rock walls of his cave.  So he set out to learn all he could of his new home.  At first, it saddened him to find that there was little difference between the worlds. The men here participated in the same kinds of wars he had fought. Their justifications for them were pitifully familiar.  They had their own misguided attachments to false oaths that drew them towards the same foolish ends. Maedhros had seen enough of this kind of warfare.  Battles that were the same empty gestures in which Elizabeth and he shared in the mutual loss of fathers and brothers.
 
Looking up from his labor, he watched the doorway as he listened to familiar footfalls in the passageway. Maedhros smiled, she was in a hurry.  He wondered what news she brought with her today? But his smile quickly faded as Elizabeth appeared in the doorway, out of breath, and obviously upset.  She tried to speak, but found it hard between deep pulls of air. 
 
Maedhros' apprehension increased as he searched her face.  Tears filled her eyes as she tried to speak.  When she finally did, Maedhros' concern turned ominous. She stretched her hand out to him. "You must come," her small voice said anxiously.
 
Quickly wrapping his gift in the cloth, Maedhros laid it gently on the ground near the pool.  He slid his sword into its scabbard, and then took Elizabeth's hand in his. As she hastily led him down the passage, the pounding of his heart echoed deep inside his chest. Something was very wrong.  His apprehension only increased when Elizabeth refused to answer his questions. He did not know what awaited them outside.  Only that he was prepared to face any threat in order to keep her safe.
 
Waves of panic rushed through him as Elizabeth suddenly let go of his hand and began to run ahead.  He called after her, but she ignored him.  She was out of the passage before Maedhros could stop her.  His breath caught in his throat, his mind reeling. She was running straight into danger.  He swiftly drew his sword.
 
Maedhros rushed out of the opening into the brilliant sunshine and stopped. Although his eyes quickly adjusted to the surrounding brightness, he did not move as he looked at the scene before him.
 
Elizabeth stood safely near one of the standing stones, Maedhros could see the wrinkled hands of the older woman holding her shoulders as they kept their charge from running to him.  The girl's frightened eyes were fixed on the small group of soldiers with swords drawn, clustered protectively around the elegantly dressed woman standing on the pathway.
 
Maedhros could see the family resemblance between Elizabeth and the woman who stood calmly scrutinizing him with her intense dark eyes.  Without her icy gaze leaving his face, Margaret Bramford raised her bejeweled hand and her soldiers quickly moved towards the stranger.
 
"NO!" Elizabeth screamed. She broke away from the woman's grasp and ran to Maedhros.
 
Maedhros had to make a quick decision; he threw his sword to the ground. He was determined not to fight the advancing men. 
 

- O -

After the discovery of the Shimmer, what remained of the night passed quickly into morning. When Ailsa finally awoke, she knew she had a fresh purpose.  Now that everything was out in the open, there were no more barriers left.  It now fell to Ewan and Ailsa to protect Maedhros' secrets and the days that followed became the true beginning of their stewardship of Egla Tir.

With Maedhros' help, they could now focus on both the Archives and the Shimmer taking all the various written accounts and make them into a chronological record. Maedhros' recollections were invaluable as they put together most of the history of what he called the "First Age." 

He was proud to tell them of their heritage, and was more than pleased with their interest. But still, Maedhros had grave concerns. The off chance that Ewan and Ailsa might see images of him as he participated in battles against other Elves was never far from his thoughts.  He prayed they would never see him or his brothers committing any of the kinslayings. To have to relive the slayings was torment enough, but to have to see their reaction to the carnage the family had caused was something he dreaded most deeply.  He knew their opinion of him would change irrevocably if they saw him in full murderous fury. How could it not? He would never be able to face either one of them again after that. For now, whatever its reason, the Shimmer mercifully continued to keep such things from their eyes.

Then there were the sounds and voices still emanating from the Shimmer to consider. The reason why or how the voices came through the barrier was still a mystery. Except for the incident with the lone Elf on the battlements, there was no contact with anyone else. The Elf's image, however, continued to wander unbidden through Ailsa's thoughts. She still remembered the unwanted sadness she felt from him. His moon-softened face was branded in her mind as he whirled around again to see who had spoken behind him. To her regret, neither the location nor the Elf had manifested themselves again. 

Ewan, however, reasoned that the barrier had somehow been weakest at that point. Hoping to find another such weakness, Maedhros tried making himself heard within the mist. He would call a greeting or question into the Shimmer and wait for a reply. Frustration filled his eyes as he patiently stood waiting for any kind of a response, but he received none. He attempted do this many times, but with the same result.  Finally, Maedhros gave up and returned to translating conversations for them.

Their questions naturally multiplied as he went through the various stories unfolding in the mist.  Ewan couldn't help being amused whenever Ailsa made Maedhros repeat an Elvish phrase or word. He could tell she was falling in love with the language. Ewan had even tried shouting into the Shimmer a line or two himself.

Maedhros was delighted that they had an ear for the Elvish tongue. So it was only natural when he began to teach it to them in earnest. He would take them on walks around the estate and tell them the name of things much as Elizabeth had done when he first learned English. Her gentle voice still echoed in his memory as she pronounced the words. During restless nights…when rest was elusive, he used Ewan's recorder to put together lessons for them.

He told them Egla Tir meant "Forsaken Watcher."  That the writing on the gate and at the bottom of the great window in the hall was a kind of family motto, Nai ve i Valar mer…"May It Be As the Valar Desire."  To Ewan and Ailsa, these rather sad phrases still sounded beautiful when Maedhros spoke them. 

Maedhros' students were more than eager and learned quickly. He taught them there were two forms of Elvish. Sindarin was used most often, and was filled with the wonderfully lyrical sounds that fascinated Ailsa so much. His people had adopted this form for everyday use, especially after their own language was forbidden to them.

Quenya from the Blessed Realm was much older.  This was the language of the Noldor, of their lore, song and poetry. Its usage was delegated to rituals, but never in public once Thingol, King of Doriath and Over-lord to the Sindar banned it.  When asked why, Maedhros reluctantly explained. "It was the language of …the Kinslayers. It had no place in Middle-earth." Ewan and Ailsa mourned the fact that the Oath had even cost Maedhros the use of his own language.

It also brought home the fact that although the Shimmer had become a learning tool for them; it had been created for a far different reason. Their excitement over its existence couldn't overshadow its true purpose. It was there to punish Maedhros, and it would continue to do so…forever. 

This was made abundantly clear as they stood beside him listening to the soft voices coming from the glowing mist. Maedhros' body would suddenly stiffen, as a recognized face would appear. They could only imagine what he endured as his own face softened into memory. It was hard to stand quietly by and hear the cheerless sigh of longing as it escaped his lips. To see his long slender fingers lovingly touch the unyielding surface. Sometimes it was too much for Ewan to even stay in the room. Ailsa, however, was determined to remain even though it broke her heart to witness him trying to will his hand through the Shimmer…to touch the beloved kinsman or friend on the other side.

When he felt her gaze, his hand would stealthily drop and he would begin talking about something else. Ailsa always made believe she hadn't noticed what he was doing, but she could see for just those few fleeting moments the unspoken desperation living deep in his eyes. She kept praying the work they were doing would somehow help him find some peace.  How necessary they were to that end, she just didn't know.

- O -

Living in an age where electronic communication was an everyday occurrence, it didn't take long before it was decided they would record the visions in the Shimmer on videotape.  They would then have a 24-hour record that could be rewound or slowed down to help decipher what was going on in the various scenes. Whole sequences could be pieced together then. However, much to their great disappointment, it was impossible.  As they replayed the first tape, it was obvious the camera had only recorded a constant blinding white light. They found it was the same with the second and third tapes as well.

After checking the video camera and finding it was functioning normally, Ailsa suggested trying a digital camera.  Regrettably, the results were the same.  It seemed modern technology was useless. The Shimmer wasn't going to allow its images to be recorded.  Resigned to doing their research the "old fashioned way," they began to work in shifts. The only pieces of modern equipment they were able to use were her father's small hand-held tape recorder and the computer. 

Occasionally during one of her shifts, Ailsa would pause as she wrote down some bit of information. It still felt so strange. Was she actually writing about another world?  All her training had prepared her to work with the past of this world.  Now, she was trying to make sense of a place known only to three people. It was going to be a big job, and as much as she would have loved to have Kyle take part in it, she knew that it was a Pandora's Box she just couldn't open. 

Besides, poor Kyle was busy fighting some unexpected red tape that was hindering his departure to Turkey. He was clueless as to when he would be able to leave. So as far as he was concerned, she was busy working on her Masters thesis with the help of the extensive library at Egla Tir.  Ailsa knew it was important he believed that tiny lie.

On the other hand, Ewan thanked God that he had all this work to occupy his mind. He hadn't talked to Patrice since she called days ago. He tried to focus on other things because he knew decisions would have to be made soon. He just couldn't bring himself to think about the inevitable outcome. Somehow 25 years had to count for something. Maybe time would let them both see things differently.  He hoped with all his heart that they would be seeing the same future.

In the meantime, he found working with Ailsa a comfort. Sharing Maedhros' secrets made them even closer. They were allies; explorers in a great journey of discovery and it gave him great joy. She was now a colleague, someone who understood his work and was more than willing to be part of it.  On Ailsa's part, she no longer wondered about her future. It would always be tied to Egla Tir…and, of course, Maedhros.

They worked hard together, but they had their moments of fun. Ailsa's only regret was that Maedhros still seemed to hesitate joining in.  As first, she thought he just misunderstood their sense of humor.  But later, she could actually see him purposely stepping back as he tried to raise that stupid wall of his. What could he be so afraid of?

Maedhros watched the interplay between Ewan and Ailsa with mixed pleasure. There was something very warm and enchanting about the way they enjoyed each other's company.  His mouth curled into an unconscious smile as he remembered the good natured joking he and his brothers shared before the Oath changed everything. His smile melted away and he quickly tried to bury his thoughts again.

He continued to watch as Ewan teased Ailsa about something or other.  Ailsa feigned being insulted and teased him back.  The two broke into silly laughter. Maedhros was touched by the simple happiness they shared. He could feel their happiness wash over him and try to take hold. It made him pause. What magic did they use to inch their way into his heart so quickly? Making him want to stop time as he tried to protect them from the destiny they would have to face. The one fate every heir of Egla Tir shared. How could he possibly bear losing them to the inevitable? He recoiled from such thoughts, the torment of these feelings only reinforced the certainty that he would not be able to endure it, and that he did not want to. 

- O -

As each scroll and tome was inspected, they found many of the stories Maedhros told them had a very familiar ring.  Ewan was most intrigued by the legends that resembled so many of the tales from our history.  Even some of the fairy tales they found took on a different meaning as they recognized elements from Maedhros' world. 

Ewan started to think there was definitely something connecting them.  He began to roam through various websites and aggressively researched the books at his disposal. He even dug up some old files of his and reviewed them.  Eventually, he began to formulate a theory that seemed to him at first…impossible. But over the years, he had come to appreciate that the impossible was never meant to be unknowable.

So late one afternoon, as he sat behind the desk in the Archives paging through his notes, an audience of two gathered to hear him out. Maedhros leaned against the edge of the desk patiently expecting some new discovery or other.  While Ailsa stood by the stairs her arms folded across her chest as she stared at her shoes wondering when she'd be able to return to the Shimmer.

Nervously looking at his various written comments and well executed graphs, Ewan tried to decide where to begin. He finally stopped shuffling his papers and looked up.  "Now, bear with me for a moment." He looked directly at Ailsa. "Try to suspend everything you've been taught about our history." Ailsa smiled indulgently, and gave him a slight nod.

"Maedhros told us that many of our legends and tales are similar to events in his world.  I originally thought that civilizations just shared basic tales because of the types of stories they were. A legend telling of ancient Vikings destroying a foul 'fireworm' becomes an English knight slaying a dragon, and then a German hero slaying the same type of creature in the dark forests of the Schwartzwald hundreds of years later. Since we've been watching the Shimmer, I've wondered if these similarities are really just coincidences. Or are these legends the true history of events much older than we know." 

Ailsa couldn't move her attention was focused on her father as he spoke. Ewan cleared his throat.

"For some time now, I've had a nagging question running through my mind. How could these accounts of Maedhros' people become part of our own legends and histories?  As far as we know, Maedhros has been the only person from Middle-earth to travel to our world." He paused as his eyes met theirs. "What if it's not a coincidence?"  Ailsa glanced over at Maedhros; his face had darkened into a scowl, but his eyes were riveted to Ewan's face.

"Then I started to really look at the pieces of the puzzle. Several years ago, I did some research into saga-based cultures and I discovered a legend they all shared. I did more checking and found this legend seems to thread its way through many other cultures as well. What came up again and again was the same basic story of an ancient civilization that covered our world ages before recorded history. It seemed that long before humans were truly civilized, a race of enlightened beings covered the Earth. This civilization had elements of great power, its people nurtured a vast knowledge of the natural world, and in many cases, there was magic involved. Their time came and then, for whatever reason, the people disappeared, fading into legend leaving only hints of their existence."

Ailsa shook her head slightly as she walked over to the desk and began to skim her father's notes. After a moment, she stared back at him in disbelief. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

A smile inched its way across Ewan's lips. "Why not? What if all those legends of previous civilizations are true?"  Ewan looked at Maedhros and his smile deepened. "It could be possible."  Ewan took a breath. "Go to any book store and you'll find shelves full of books about lost civilizations, lost continents, even lost periods of time. What if the historical timeline we've been told as fact, is actually wrong? Our history could have began thousands of millennia before we think it did?"

Ewan's face broke into a wider smile. "Maedhros told us that his people returned to Aman. What if the images in the Shimmer showing us those ships leaving Middle-earth are more than just a great migration?  Yes, the Elves left Middle-earth, but left it in the hands of another race? This lost civilization is not a myth, or legend? Just simply a time we have forgotten."

Ailsa eyes brightened as she tried to comprehend the possibilities, but as Maedhros listened, a nauseating ache began to grow deep in his stomach. He stared at the floor not wanting to believe what he was hearing. This can not be!  Maedhros shut his eyes as he tried to will himself to a quieter mind.

"Why must we believe we're dealing with two separate worlds? What if long before this place was called Earth, it was called Middle-earth?" Ewan's grey eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Maedhros, what if your banishment is not to another world, but just a journey of time?"

Weeks ago, Ailsa would have scoffed at such an idea, but lately her understanding of many things was different. How much more would their world become having such a long ago past to remember. Why not? She turned to Maedhros and excitedly took his arm. "That would mean…" Her words fell away as she saw his pale face. He opened his eyes and she could see deep sorrow flickering in their depths; his body seemed to tremble.

"Maedhros?" Ailsa began to feel anxious.

Maedhros stood up and removed his arm from her grasp. He walked to the stairs, stopped and gripped the railing. Ailsa could see he held the railing so tightly the knuckles of his hand had grown white. Taking several unsteady breaths, he tried to control himself.  Why do they not understand?  Are they so blind, they can not see what this really means? 

Ewan looked at Maedhros; his apprehension grew as he realized something was definitely wrong.  "Maedhros, doesn't it make sense?" He quickly glanced at Ailsa who looked as concerned as he was. Slowly, Maedhros turned, and stared openly at them. His face was like a mask.

"The only sense I have is the absolute certainty that the Valar are more cruel than I ever imagined." Each word he spoke echoed with black despair.  He turned, and slowly climbed the stairs.

Once Maedhros had disappeared above, Ewan blew out a long sigh. "Well, I don't understand.  I thought he would be pleased to know how much more all of this is.  I mean, people alive today could very well be the descendents of this Second Born he's told us about."  Ewan's brows drew together as he tried to fathom what he'd done to affect Maedhros so. "I feel as if…as if I've…offended or even hurt him in some way."

Ailsa's attention was drawn away from the empty stairwell as she heard the uncertainty in her father's voice.  As he stood behind the desk, she could see the guilt he was feeling in his very posture. "You didn't do anything wrong, dad. I think your theory has just surprised him that's all."  But she was beginning to piece together what it all really meant to Maedhros.  "Look, I'm going to go find him."

"Are you sure he'd appreciate your company at this precise moment?" Ewan couldn't deny the feeling their help might be useless right now.

"I don't want to be company." She corrected him. "I just can't let him be alone."

Ewan lifted his file of research remembering how pleased he was with himself a few minutes ago.  Shaking his head, he slammed the file back on the desktop in frustration, startling his daughter. He looked up at her.  "You needn't go to him, Ailsa," he said.

- O -

He knew where he had to go and quickly made his way past the back of the house, down the garden steps and into the woods. The sun moved slowly over the treetops on its way to the coming sunset. Thin shadows of tree branches crisscrossed over the path making a patchwork design on the fallen leaves. The unusual silence within the wood resonated with the self-reproach he felt. Fool! What a great fool! He cursed at himself.  Even in the sunlight, the surrounding air felt chilled. Coming out of the trees, he stopped abruptly on the rock ledge. Very near the edge of the cliff, Maedhros stood like a statue cut from the surrounding stone, his face towards the sea. Ewan's stomach lurched as he wondered how he was going to be able to face him?

The wind rushed past Maedhros' rigid body; his dark auburn hair roughly flew about his head in rebellious tendrils. Ewan took a few tentative steps towards him; still not certain this was the wisest thing to be doing. As he reached Maedhros' side, he could actually feel the misery emanating from the Elf.  Bringing the back of his hand up to his mouth, he coughed unconvincingly.  Although the wind beat against him, he tried to stand motionless as he waited for Maedhros to notice him.

Without turning, Maedhros' deep voice rose above the wind and pounding surf. "I know you are there, Ewan." His voice sounded steady, but Ewan knew better.

Maedhros stared dry-eyed at the seascape before him. The knowledge that the Blessed Realm actually lay silently beyond the horizon burned deep into his heart. Secreted away, it was hidden from his eyes in its cloak of mist and shadow. How many times over the long years had he stood in this very spot staring into the West dreaming of his world, remembering his home? Missing it with his whole being even as the pale gulls floating on the wind echoed the very call of its bright shores. The call that ran through his veins at times like flame. His silver grey eyes scanned in vain the bank of clouds lying just above the water. The waves below the cliff beat their rhythm onto the shore.  Murderer…Kinslayer…Banished… Forever!   

Ewan watched Maedhros as he struggled with this new revelation. He wished there were some way he could take it all back. Ailsa had told him how much Maedhros suffered as he bore the guilt of what he and the family had done. Only now did he realize the scope of Maedhros' punishment. Ewan hated being the cause of any more pain to this already overburdened soul.  Especially when he had received only respect and unconditional acceptance from him. Right now, the feeling of uselessness was what he hated most of all.

Finally, Ewan couldn't stand it any longer. "Maedhros, I'm really sorry for anything I said that upset you."  He tried to smile, but remorse held the expression in check.  "It's only a theory you know, and I've been proven wrong before." Ewan felt his cheeks flush with his admission. "Listen, I normally can't even get my own colleagues to agree with me."

Maedhros raised his hand. "I will not allow you to belittle yourself in an attempt to comfort me." He turned and looked into Ewan's guilt-filled eyes. His own eyes softened. "You should be proud of yourself, Ewan. You have found the truth for me at last."    

Ewan felt worse hearing Maedhros praise him. "Well, I could still be wrong." 

Silently, Maedhros turned his attention back to the sea. The sun had begun to broadly paint the sky with an apricot colored light.  The bank of clouds now shone with the many threads of pale pink and gold reflecting within its depths. Time stood still as the two figures continued their silent vigil. After a while, Maedhros let out a low sigh, and his shoulders fell slightly.

"I had resigned myself to my punishment long ago. Truly, it is more than just."  He seemed to speak more to himself than to Ewan, but every word dripped with such bitterness. "I found a kind of solace knowing that my world was safe.  The shimmer showed me how life continued, despite what my family had done.  But to find Middle-earth no longer exists...that it went on and now is…gone…forever." The last few words were hardly above a whisper.

His hand rose and gestured toward the horizon. "That Aman is out there now, but will always be beyond my reach." His fingers slowly curled into a fist as he lowered it to his side. "It is a blow I was unprepared for." He closed his eyes as he tried to control the cry of anguish that lingered in his chest.

"The Shimmer shows us nothing that is real, Ewan. Like the reflection on a pool, no more than the play of light on the surface of the water. There is nothing to go back to." The dead calm in his voice was a little frightening.

"We can't be sure of that, Maedhros."  Ewan felt awful, he realized Maedhros had harbored the tiniest sliver of hope that he would be able to return to his world one day.  Now he had ripped that hope from him with his stupid theory.

Maedhros heard the concern in Ewan's voice.  He steeled himself and forced himself to face the troubled man. He placed his hand on Ewan's shoulder. "It is as it should be, Ewan." Maedhros gently shook his head. "After all this time, I finally have the proof that forgiveness is not to be mine." There was a catch in his voice. "That I belong nowhere." His eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

As the words left Maedhros' lips, Ewan frantically wished he could stop them some how. "That's not true," he insisted. "You belong to Egla Tir. You belong to the land and its people." Reaching up, he put a reassuring hand on Maedhros' shoulder. "You belong with us…with your family. Ailsa and I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you."  His eyes grew more determined as he spoke. "We can help you find your peace, Maedhros. I promise."

Maedhros smiled as he felt Ewan's words rush to fill a hallow place deep inside him; a place that had been empty far too long. He could see within Ewan's offer of help that he actually cared what happened to him.  Maedhros saw it in the concern coming from this man who's hand rested so awkwardly on his shoulder. Not since his brothers had he felt this way. Ewan was offering him something that went beyond help. He offered him the comfort of family and the love that went with it. As he had welcomed Ailsa's affection, he now welcomed Ewan's with his whole heart.

Drawing Ewan closer, he gently brought their foreheads together. Maedhros looked into clear grey eyes that were very much like his own. "Thank you, toron nin."

Ewan was startled as Maedhros touched his forehead to his. He could feel the deep emotion in Maedhros' words. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat as he gently stepped back. "You're welcome." He said and looked clumsily at the ground for a moment. He then looked at Maedhros. "Well, I…I guess I should get back." A few more moments ticked by. He raised his hand and almost touched Maedhros arm again, but put it into his jacket pocket instead. Ewan's mouth twisted into a half-smile. "You'll see, everything will be all right." Without another word, he turned and walked back toward the trees.

Maedhros' smile deepened as he watched Ewan leave. Out of the madness of this new reality, he had found his family once again. No longer would he have to accept the role of silent watcher or be considered as something only to be tolerated. Over the years, many of the heirs regarded him as nothing more than an unpleasant secret…something to be avoided. One or two had offered friendship, but no more. Others felt it was their duty to remind him he was an unnatural participant in their lives. 

Many of the recent heirs had only looked upon him as a source of income.  He was there to provide them with a lifestyle that kept them away from Egla Tir and as far away from him as possible.  These years had left him questioning his motives as he continued to search for each new heir. Each generation proving again and again, they had no sense of who they were which only increased his loneliness. But Ewan and Ailsa were different; he thanked Eru for that.

Their regard for him was equal to the feelings he returned. Whatever the outcome…regardless of their future, his family would endure. I have felt the warmth of my family's love, and I will not be without it again.  Maedhros sat staring defiantly into the West.  Ewan was right, through his family he could find the promise of peace. He closed his eyes and prayed; he prayed hard that just this once, time might be his friend.

To Be Continued in Chapter 6 – Very Much A family Part 2

Chapter Text

Chapter 6 – Very Much A Family Part 2

- O -

The peasant farmers who worked the Bramford lands began to spread tales of the ghost who wondered in the nearby forests.  Sometimes, as they made their way to the fields, they would see him as he walked shrouded within the early morning fog. However, there seemed to be conflicting descriptions of this ghost. One time it was said that it was Richard Bramford, another time it was his younger brother Geoffrey.

Finally these stories made their way to their mistress, and they broke her heart anew. Why did others see the ghosts of her dead sons?  Why did they not come to their mother? But some of the stories also brought concern to the Mistress of Bramford Castle.  One or two of the sightings implied that sometimes the ghost was not alone.  During these times, the Lady Elizabeth had been seen walking with the ghost. 

Today, in the bright sunlight, Margaret recognized the tunic of her eldest son on the body of the stranger. Today, the "ghost" was Richard. She could also guess where he had gotten the clothes. Anger filled her mind; this was a man who had now put her daughter's honor and safety at risk. His attire would not save him or gift any mercy from her.

 
Maedhros knew it would have been too easy to fight his way through the small group of soldiers, and it would have accomplished nothing.  He could see the fear in their eyes as they surrounded him. Even in clothing familiar to them, Maedhros was still an imposing figure.  Any sudden move could prove fatal to them. Besides, he would find fighting difficult as Elizabeth now stood in front of him defiantly daring any of the men to try something.  He would not put her in harm's way.
 
The tension was steadily building, Maedhros told Elizabeth to go to her mother, but she declined as she was determined to stay.  Lady Margaret watched and listened to the exchange between her daughter and the stranger.  The intriguing part of their conversation was they were speaking in a language she had never heard before and did not know her daughter spoke. Many minutes passed and the strain only increased.  She finally put a stop to the stalemate, telling the soldiers to stand down. She too, was afraid Elizabeth might be injured if a fight ensued. Reluctantly, they put away their swords and took a few steps back from the duo, but they still rested their hands on the pommels of their weapons. 
 
Lady Margaret approached the stranger. She had originally thought her daughter had been fooled by one of the many beggars wandering the countryside into letting him hide in the goddess cave.  But she could see this was no beggar. This was a seasoned warrior fore he still included the group of soldiers in his gaze as he stood silently watching her advance.  There was also an unquestionable air of command about him and a nobility in his handsome face.  She, however, was definitely no fool, and although he was quite impressive, she did not want to trust him. He could still be a threat.
 
She glanced down at her daughter.  Although Elizabeth was ready to take on the Bramford soldiers to protect Maedhros, her resolve abandoned her as her mother applied a very stern, but familiar look in her direction.  Elizabeth quickly stepped out of her mother's way moving to Maedhros' side. 
 
Without her eyes leaving his face, Lady Margaret asked her daughter.  "Elizabeth! Tell me, does he speak English?" 
 
"Yes I do, my lady. Your daughter has taught me well."  Maedhros answered before the frightened girl could speak. 
 
His impertinent reply brought a smile to her lips. The heavy accent to the well-spoken words only increased her curiosity. "Then you can easily tell me who you are and what you are doing on my lands?"
 
Maedhros hesitated for a moment as he tried to figure out how much he should say.  Chafing slightly under Lady Margaret's powerful gaze, he decided the truth was his only recourse. "I am Maedhros, son of Feanor.  I am a Noldorin nobleman seeking refuge in your world and on your lands."  Maedhros brought his arm up to his chest, and gave her a slight bow. His face a mask of composed splendor.
 
"I see." Lady Margaret was skeptical. She knew she needed to quickly regain control of the situation.  "I am Lady Bramford, and I will be the one to decide whether you can take refuge on my lands or not." Her dark stare tried to see past the unflinching shining grey of Maedhros' eyes.
 
Elizabeth tugged at Maedhros' sleeve.  He bent slightly giving them the illusion of privacy.  Finding her voice, she whispered, "Maedhros, you must show my mother the Shimmer."  
 
Just then, as if on cue, a slight breeze took the opportunity to lift Maedhros' hair briefly. The others were too far away to see, but Lady Bramford was able to observe the mythical curve of his ear.  She blinked a few times as she tried to comprehend what she was seeing. It seemed what her daughter told her was true. "I think sir, we need to talk about some of the things my daughter has told me." 
 
With that, she indicated to the soldiers and her maidservant she wanted them to stay outside while Maedhros, Elizabeth, and she went into the passage.  When the captain of the soldiers expressed his concern, he got a quick rebuke.  "I will hear no argument.  Stay here!"  The soldier recognized the threat and quickly obeyed.  With one swift movement and before the other soldiers could react, Maedhros retrieved his sword from the ground.  He offered it, handle first, to the bewildered soldier as a gesture of his honorable intentions.  The startled soldier took the sword and watched as the three entered the opening. His eyes continued to watch the blackness within the opening for many minutes.  The other soldiers surrounded him as they began to admire the strange blade.
 

- O -

It became a custom for Maedhros and Ailsa to take walks together after dinner.  It seemed quite natural for them to share these walks in all kinds of weather. Ewan was always ready to take over for one of them down in the Archives or watching the Shimmer.  His obsession with the Shimmer had little to do with strolls or conversations.

Some evenings they would walk through the estate woodlands other evenings, they made their way again to the outdoor theater. Most times they would walk closer to home and the cliff on the estate.  It was hard for Maedhros during the walks near the cliffs. He could no longer bring himself to stare out to sea as easily as he once did. His reality had been turned upside-down, and he was dealing with the new truth of his situation as best he could.  Ewan and Ailsa's support was a healing balm. Once again he was allowed helping hands to bring him back into the light. For all his clever plans to keep them at arms length, they were now very much a part of him. He realized he had been foolish to think they would be otherwise.

So they walked and he took pleasure in her company as they talked about many things.  Maedhros told her of happier times during his youth and the various individuals that made up his world in Middle-earth.  She would tell him about Berkeley, about her friends and the rest of her mother's family.  She even told him about Kyle.  The term boyfriend, although not foreign to him, still seemed a strange custom. 

One evening as they sat on the stone seats of the outdoor theatre, he asked her, "Tell me Ailsa, is this Kyle the one for whom your heart sings?" 

Ailsa smiled as she tried listening to her heart, wishing she could truly hear something. She finally admitted awkwardly, "I honestly don't know." She smiled sheepishly. "What's it supposed to sound like?" 

Maedhros could feel her discomfort.  Ailsa saw that familiar "almost" smile of his creeping into the corners of his mouth.  She had seen this look so many times before as she wondered what he was thinking.  She still didn't know what it meant, but this time, there was a glint of happiness in his eyes.

- O -

After the mixture of shock and fear had subsided, she was able to stand before the glowing mist without wanting to run away.  It took only a few moments for Lady Margaret to understand completely what was happening within the vapor.  Strange unholy creatures were driving captives before them.  All the prisoners seemed to have ears like the being who stood quietly at her side. Elizabeth said he was a nobleman from an Elvish realm. Were those creatures the reason he was here? Maedhros was silent and did not offer any explanations.

 She could feel her courage rising. "Is it true you are an Elf, sir?"  She asked the question, but found it hard to concentrate as her own mother's stories raced through her mind.

"My lady, it is true I am an Elf.  I come from the world depicted in this Shimmer."

 
Lady Margaret's attention went back to the strange phenomenon over the pool.  The previous scene in the mist seemed to dissolve away and a new vision appeared.  An incredibly handsome adult male was patiently teaching a young boy how to use a bow.  The male was very tall and slender with long silver blond hair that fell almost to his waist. The boy with his golden mane of long bright hair seemed to be the right age for instruction.  Both adult and child were Elves if their ears and strange attire were to be believed.  The young Elf listened intently and watched with his bright blue eyes as his instructor taught by example. With a fluid movement of his arm, he nocked his arrow, pulled and released it.  The arrow hit the target dead center. When it was the boy's turn, the youngster drew his bow as he had seen the master archer do and let loose the arrow.  He was very pleased when his arrow found its mark close to the other arrow. 
 
Margaret smiled wistfully as she remembered her own sons and how excited they had been when they first took up the bow. How proud they were when they successfully scored a hit. Within a heartbeat, her face fell suddenly, and she quickly looked into the pool, unable to keep watching the scene. The deaths of her sons left a dark painful emptiness surrounding heart, but even their loss could not overshadow the death of their father. She could not help wondering at that moment what he would have thought of all this.
 
Elizabeth decided it was time to show her mother the Silmaril.  After cautioning her, she opened the pouch. The air between them exploded in shafts of brilliant light. After Lady Margaret's eyes became accustomed to the display shining from the pouch, she could see the round jewel at the bottom. Her eyes widened at the splendor she saw within it.  How could it be that so many colors danced so easily within it? Never in all her life had she ever witnessed such a magical thing.  Her eyes quickly moved back to the glowing mist above the pool. Well, it was the second most magical thing she had ever seen.  She began to feel a little unsteady. Maedhros came up from behind and gently led her to a chair. 
 
Sitting quietly, she tried to reason out what she was going to do. She could not get over the marvels she had just witnessed, but there was an air of remembrance about them.  When she was very young her mother told her stories of how their family had always been blessed by the goddess living in this cave. How men in the far distant past, did great deeds in the goddess' honor as they fought to keep the light in their world. Strange and wonderful beings would help them on these adventures.  Always fighting to keep the darkness at bay. The women of the family were the ones who kept these stories alive passing them from mother to daughter.  In her turn, she had taught these tales to Elizabeth.
 
Gazing into the mist and its moving light, all the tales suddenly rang more true than ever before. Her daughter had befriended a being who was most likely taking refuge from the things she had seen in the magic vapors.  The "Shimmer" he had called it…and the jewel he had called a Silmaril?  Never could she have imagined such treasures.  
 
Elizabeth had told her how Maedhros and his family had fought many battles as they tried to retrieve the great jewels from the murderous thief who stole them.  How by doing so, they had made their gods angry and he was banished to their world. She said he struggled to adjust to his new world, but his guilt over the battles for the jewels hung on him at times like a shroud.  "So it is true," she murmured. 
 
Whether or not he was a lord from some unknown fairy kingdom, she needed more time to figure out what Maedhros' arrival meant. The one thing she knew was that Maedhros had lived on her lands for several years without any ill will from him.  Other than the peasants' ghost stories, he had harmed no one.  Her daughter had been safe in his presence, and if he did indeed needed refuge from his world, then she as lady of this land would be less than kind to deny him sanctuary. Maybe the goddess had not abandoned the cave after all.
 
Maedhros had allowed Elizabeth's mother a moment to consider all she had seen and been told. Children in their innocence of the world could readily accept the mystical, adults needed more time. He looked at Elizabeth as they waited to hear her mother's mind. His only fear was that Lady Margaret would order him off her lands and he would never be able to see Elizabeth again.  The possibility made his heart feel suddenly encased in lead.
 
"I must return to my men," Lady Margaret announced.  She looked into her daughter's anxious eyes.  "Come Elizabeth, I have seen all I need to see."  Elizabeth hesitated as she waited for her mother to say more.  When she didn't, Elizabeth's eyes dropped to the floor.  In her young mind, Maedhros was doomed.
 
"Lord Maedhros, would you be kind enough to escort us back through the passage."  She smiled at the puzzled Maedhros.  
 
Taking her daughter's hand, Lady Margaret turned into the passage, Maedhros followed behind.  The sunlight filled opening beckoned to them.  Stopping a few feet from the exit, Lady Margaret turned and faced the Elf.  "I know not what your purpose is in our world.  Nor what fate your gods have in store for you. I will not be the one to refuse you sanctuary. For now, you may continue to make this cave your home." 
 
Elizabeth's face lit up as she heard her mother's words.  Maedhros was not doomed!
 
Maedhros tried to hide the relief that washed over him. He bowed, "Your generous mercy, my lady, is gratefully accepted." His silver eyes looked up into the face of his new protector.
 
"But hear me, lord.  Should I find your conduct in any way less than what I require, you will find yourself residing in a place quite different.  The dungeons of Bramford Castle are not a refuge men in the past have found to their liking."
 
Maedhros smiled as he bowed to the lady once more.  She was formidable enough to take on anyone.  He only hoped that one day he would be worthy enough for her to offer him her friendship.
 
Nearly an hour had passed before those outside the cave began the process of deciding when it would be prudent to check on their mistress.  Before it was necessary to choose someone, Lady Bramford came out of the opening with her daughter in tow.  The stranger stepped out from the darkness behind them
 
"Let us go to our horses, we will return to the castle." Lady Margaret commanded.
 
"But my lady, what about the stranger?"  The elder servant asked anxiously.
 
"Lord Maedhros will be allowed to remain on our lands."  Stone faced, she looked at her soldiers. "Unmolested."  The soldiers nodded to their lady.  She smiled down at her daughter.  "Come, it grows late. We must return home."
 

The soldier holding Maedhros' marvelous sword held it out to him grip first.  The strange lord smiled at him as he retrieved his weapon and returned it to its empty scabbard.  Standing solemnly on the hilltop, he watched the entire party move toward the woods and their waiting horses. His eyes settled on Elizabeth's figure, and for the first time he noticed that she was almost as tall as her mother.  She stopped, turned suddenly and waved her hand to him.  Maedhros' own arm came up and he returned the temporary gesture of good-bye.  The warmth of her joyous smile filled his Elven eyes and he felt a renewed affection for his little bird.

- O -

Ailsa readily took her turn with the Shimmer. It was so exciting to watch the visions now. A few days ago, the images had suddenly slowed down and lengthened in duration. The fact the segments were growing longer affected each one of the watchers differently.  Ailsa was just plain excited, Maedhros knew it was significant, but was unable to reason why so he was unable to feel happy about it. Ewan surmised that the slowing down could be a natural occurrence. Ailsa couldn't suppress a smile when her father used the word "Sunspots."  In fact, he had announced at dinner one night that he had calculated that the visions were now averaging 18.6 minutes per sequence.

All Ailsa knew was that since the visions had slowed down, it was much easier to get details of clothing and the action playing out in them.  Sometimes, however, Ailsa found herself slightly bored if a sequence seemed to have little going on. There was just so much one could write about an empty meadow.

It was at these times, she would find herself moving to the small chest on the rock shelf. Since the first night she watched the Silmaril as it lay on the table, she found herself wanting to look at it whenever she could. She reasoned that if she was careful, one quick look every now and then couldn't possibly hurt…could it? 

She loved to hold the opened pouch and look at the Silmaril as the magical light danced across her face. She never tired of its bright beauty. It made her so happy. There was a sadness though…she was mortal and couldn't hold it in her naked hand.  How she longed to feel the hardness of the jewel in her fingers. Although it burned when she touched it, she just knew it would feel cool to the touch in other hands. Sometimes she wondered why her father didn't find it as appealing as she did. When she tried to bring it up, he seemed only mildly interested. Couldn't he see how special it was?

It was during one of these "quick looks" that Maedhros and her father caught her.  They had come into the room before she was aware of them and stared at her disapprovingly. She tried to act nonchalantly about being discovered with the Silmaril, but she still put the pouch back in the chest. She didn't know why their disapproval made her feel so guilty, and she resented the fact that they made her feel that way.  "I was just looking," she said as she lifted her chin defiantly. 

They continued to look at her, but didn't speak. Ailsa decided that she had other things that needed attending to. "I have some things to do up in the library," she said.  No one said anything as she left the room.  What she didn't know was after he heard her on the stairs, Maedhros turned to her father with a deep frown on his face.  "I am concerned that Ailsa is becoming a little too attached to the Silmaril."  He told Ewan. "I have seen that look before on other faces."

Ewan also frowned for a moment. "I don't think we have anything to worry about, Maedhros.  Ailsa is level headed enough to realize the danger of becoming too possessive.  Besides, she'll be going back to Berkeley eventually, and she can't very well take it with her…can she?" He felt confident that his daughter was just fine. 

Maedhros couldn't be so sure, but something Ewan said left him feeling as if he had been struck across the face. Ailsa leaving?  It was something that he had not considered. He excused himself and left Ewan with the Shimmer. 

That afternoon as Ailsa and he walked through the woods behind the manor, Maedhros searched his mind for the words that would help him bring up the subjects of the Silmaril and Ailsa's leaving.  He watched Ailsa as she walked ahead of him touching the various tree trunks, and almost dancing around others. His eyes softened, she was such a silent child of the forest, unaware that her dancing and the touching of the trees were in response to their ancient song.  Maedhros and his people knew this song and he was glad the soul of one of his children was able to hear it as well. Ailsa turned and smiled at him, the simple beauty of her face reflected the warm glow of the sunlight. He found he could not continue to look at her, he feared their bond might reveal his apprehension.  She quickly turned and walked on. He felt a new sadness begin to grow within him. A thought began to echo in his mind. She can not go…not yet.

Ailsa knew something was on Maedhros' mind. He was much too preoccupied, even for him.  She had caught him watching her as they walked through the woods, but he averted his gaze when their eyes met.  Whatever it was, it was troubling him a great deal.  Well, she would find out what it was.  There weren't any secrets between them now and she wasn't about to allow any to start.

As always she followed him assuming they were on their way to the cliff. After a bit, however, they made a turn. At first she wondered what their new destination was, but as she looked around a familiar feeling consumed her.  Although the forest was filled with the golden light of the late afternoon sun, she couldn't help feeling she had come this way before.

It had been night then, and the glorious full moon enveloped the entire forest in its blue radiance.  She almost wished Maedhros would begin to sing as he had that night.  She would love to hear him in this light.  Just then he turned and looked at her.  She could see it in his face; she smiled at him as her eyes narrowed. You know I followed you that night!  With a slight smile on his lips, he turned again and resumed his pace. Ailsa knew where they were going.

Maedhros waited for Ailsa to enter the clearing.  She stood within the circling trees remembering the way the clearing looked that night. How different it seemed now. As if all the magic she had experienced then only waited for the full moon to rise again.

The cold blue light had made it a mystical place, where an enchanted singer sang out his grief bathed in the white light of the reflecting pool. The surrounding trees were in varied hues of darkest blue-black to silvery grey. The emotion of Maedhros' songs the only warmth within the circle.  With that thought, Ailsa stepped into the clearing.

The clearing had now transformed itself into a palette containing the many colors of Fall. The inviting warmth of reds, yellows, and oranges filled the space.  Even the pale bench and the large flat stones forming the lip of the pool seemed a warmer shade of that color as it contrasted against the still green grass. The reflecting pool was different also.  The cold still glass from that night now had ripples of liquid golden sunlight reflecting off its moving surface. She wanted to lay on the grass arms behind her head, her eyes tracking the various clouds as they sailed by in the ocean blue sky above.

Maedhros walked with her to the bench and sat down.  Ailsa let a few minutes pass before she looked at him and asked, "Okay, what's on your mind?"  He lowered his eyes, smiling to himself.  He was beginning to think she could read his mind after all.  He swallowed and looked into her inquiring eyes. "Are you leaving us?" He quietly asked.  Ailsa was surprised by his question. 

"I hadn't planned on going anywhere."  She replied.  She couldn't understand what he meant.

"Ewan mentioned that you would eventually want to move back to Berkeley and resume your studies.  I know that you have reached your majority and you are just beginning your life. You should enjoy everything that it has to offer." He paused feeling awkward as he searched her face. "I want you to have a full life, Ailsa, but one that would, I hope, include Egla Tir…from time to time."

Suddenly, she understood what he meant and she smiled back at him. "Do you actually think I could leave Egla Tir and forget about it…or you?"  She shook her head and slipped her arm through his, "Don't worry Maedhros, I have no immediate plans of leaving, so you're stuck with me." 

Feeling very pleased, he patted her arm with his hand.  "That is good to hear…for I am glad to be 'stuck' with you." His silver eyes crinkled as he smiled back at her. Relief rushed through him; he knew he had to speak to Ailsa about the Silmaril, but he decided to put it off for now.

- O -

Maedhros began to hope he was wrong about his concern for Ailsa and the Silmaril, but he knew better.  He knew better the moment he walked into the cave room the next day and found her holding it in a handkerchief-covered hand.  Her face aglow with the light as she watched it with an all consuming stare.  "Ailsa, what are you doing?" He asked loudly.  Ailsa looked up at him, the spell of the Silmaril temporarily broken.  "What?" She asked slowly.

He hesitated taking the Silmaril from her even with the handkerchief.  Still remembering the burning agony his bare hand had experienced so long ago, he could not take the chance that the thin cloth would not protect him.  "Ailsa, put the Silmaril back into the pouch," he ordered.

The cold command of his voice startled her. "I was just…" She began as she dropped the jewel into the leather pouch.

"I know what you just…" He said flatly and opened the chest.  Once the Silmaril was in the pouch, Ailsa seemed more herself.  "I wasn't doing anything wrong." She sounded like a child caught with a forbidden treat.  "I…I thought I should get a complete description down of the Silmaril for the archives."  Maedhros motioned toward the chest, and Ailsa obediently placed the pouch in it.  He slammed the lid shut, making Ailsa jump.  "Do you have any idea what you are doing?"  There was anger in his voice as he spoke.  "Do you?"

Ailsa was taken aback. She had never known Maedhros to be so angry before.  She didn't understand why he was angry with her.  She turned and walked to the table. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."  She picked up a scrap of paper and tried to read it.

"You know our family history and what the Silmaril means to us.  It is not just a pretty shiny jewel to us."  He was trying very hard to explain without letting his anger and fear take control.  She didn't see the danger she was in, and he had to make her see before something terrible happened. 

"I don't know what you're so upset about."  The angry edge to her voice reflected her resentment of his interference.  Why couldn't she touch the Silmaril, it was just as much hers as anyone's.  She whirled around and pointed at Maedhros. "You just don't want anyone else to touch it.  You want it all for yourself."  Maedhros face paled as he heard her words.  In an instant his face suddenly grew dark, angry grey eyes flashed at her.

"Do you hear yourself?" He shot the words out like steel arrows, every one hitting her heart. "Do you not know where this path leads? Have you heard nothing I have said?" He turned away from her, his hand clutching the wrist where its mate once belonged.  Grasping for his own composure, he let his head drop back, his dark red hair reflecting the lights of the Shimmer.

Closing his eyes to find a measure of calm, he blew out a long stream of air before speaking again.  This time his voice was deathly quiet, his face still tilted up to the rock ceiling above them. "And would you wish Everlasting Darkness on yourself if you did not keep it from me, no matter what the cost?"  He turned, his eyes no longer angry, but filled with urgent concern.

Suddenly, Ailsa realized what he meant. "Oh my God!" The horror of it made her shudder. Her eyes widened with fear as she glanced at the chest.  "Maedhros, what's happening to me?" She felt panicked, and her body began to tremble. "I only felt great joy when I held it."   Relief painted itself across his features at her response.  Maedhros reached out and took hold of her arm.  His eyes softened as he saw the terror in Ailsa's eyes. He wrapped his arms around her.

"All is well, tithen min." His hand softly stroked her hair. "It was never meant to be an object of evil. It wondrous glow fills everyone's heart differently. If you are aware, you can control your attraction to it."  His voice was a caress to her jumbled nerves helping Ailsa to calm down.  Maedhros released her.  "There. Now that you know, you can fight against your desire for it."  His face still showed concern; the fear was gone. 

The moments passed and she came to comprehend the cold reality of what Maedhros was saying.  "I had no idea," she said wistfully.

"Even your father has a weakness for the Silmaril.  He is aware of it and works to control it. Perhaps we should find a less conspicuous place to store the chest."  Maedhros suggested.

Ailsa brought her body up to her full height and squared her shoulders. "I don't think that will be necessary.  As you said, if I'm aware of the attraction, I can control it." She now wanted to prove to Maedhros she could be in the same room as the Silmaril and not touch it.  She walked over to the chest and placed her hand on the lid as if making sure it was tightly closed.  She looked at Maedhros and asked, "How does my father do it?  I've never seen him even open the chest."

Maedhros smiled and brought his fingers to his chin.  "Your father has the outward facade of a man preoccupied with…things.  But if you look deeper, you will find that he is a man who will always do what is right.  He felt the pull of the Silmaril and has kept away from it."

"Well, that's my level headed father for you."  She said with affection.

"That is amusing, Ailsa."  Maedhros said as he walked to the doorway.  "It is what he said of you."  Ailsa's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she followed him out. 

To be continued.

tithen aiwe = little bird

tithen min = little one

toron nin = my brother

Chapter Text

The passage of time means nothing to an immortal. The only perceptible mark of its passing is the changing seasons that surround them.  The gift life gives to other men is the comfort of these seasons as they flow one into another. Summer heat gives way to the chill of autumn. Leaves fall from their trees and are renewed as new buds in the spring. But there is no comfort in this rhythm to an immortal who is unforgiven.  To a heart burdened with the knowledge of its black deeds, the endless days are an unwanted gift. There is never enough time to ease the guilt that eats away at your soul as you journey down that long dark road of remorse. For those who are bound to their memories, time is a harsh penance.

As Maedhros watched Elizabeth, he knew time was not his friend.  Like the different phases that change the face of the moon, time was altering her.  One minute, much as an awkward colt, Elizabeth's arms and legs seemed to grow twice as fast as the rest of her body.  Then suddenly, she grew taller, and began to walk with the grace of green reeds swaying in the gentle breeze.  Each step drawing her closer to the woman she was destined to become. 

Elizabeth was growing up and her curiosity was maturing. She still enjoyed the tales he told of the warriors of his world.  But her eyes that once had been filled with childish wonder were slowly changing, becoming more questioning.  Although she regarded him as her own private secret, she began to probe why he had been sent to her world.

What could he tell her? He could tell her that he was there to learn about her world so he could return to his and tell others.  Would she believe that lie?  Or could he risk her disgust with the truth? What would her hazel eyes say as he told her about the Oath and what he and his family had done because of it? It sickened him to even think what her response might be.  Her regard was now more precious to him than even the Silmaril. 

No…time would never be his friend.

- 0 -

Ailsa was still in bed hours after she normally rose. Her sleep had been deep, filled with strange dreams weaving themselves in and out of her slumber. Dreams full of soft moonlight reflecting off mirrored surfaces, a beautiful song filtered through dark trees, and the wind carried her in its arms as she listened. She woke with the previous night still fresh in her mind.  She lay quietly wondering, hoping really, that it might have been one of her dreams after all.

A chill ran through her as she remembered the glow of the moon on his face, first walking through the trees, and then entering the clearing. When she closed her eyes, she could still feel the night air on her skin; she still heard Maedhros as he sang.  The entire ethereal splendor around him as he sat so still beside the pool, all the while singing those beautiful words with his rich incredible voice. No, she knew she had experienced those things with her eyes wide open.

Sitting up, she drew her knees up to her chest along with some of the bedcovers. Hugging the bundle she tried to reason it out. Her eyes stared absently at the bedspread as her fingers slowly made circles over the pile. Why was he in that clearing last night? How was he able to sing like that?  She would never forget the raw grief hanging from his youthful face. Regret echoed in every unknown word he sang.  It had hurt to even listen to them.  What could have possibly happened to him that he would grieve so? 

She had teased him about being a man of mystery. But that's exactly what he is…a mystery. As she laid her cheek on her knees, a scowl creased her brow as a deep sigh escaped her lips.  He was such an integral part of Egla Tir. The effortless way he handled the staff and the estate. The way her father always deferred to him, and the way Maedhros always seemed to expect it.  No mere servant had that kind of power. How could she possibly begin to make sense of such a man?

Mrs. Whitehall has to know something about him. Ailsa's face brightened. That's where she would start.  She got out of bed, quickly showered, and dressed. 

As she left her room, she found Colleen with her cleaning caddy in her hand coming out of Maedhros' bedroom. The housemaid was closing the door when she spied Ailsa.  "Good morning, Miss," she smiled.

"Good morning, Colleen."  Ailsa smiled back at the girl.  "I feel like such a slug sleeping in so late. Are my father and Maedhros around?"

"I think Maedhros said they were going to the library.  I just finished his room. I'll do yours next if that's all right?"

"That'll be fine. Go right ahead."  Ailsa looked past Colleen; Maedhros' door hadn't closed completely. She stepped aside giving Colleen access to her room.

Ailsa walked quickly toward Maedhros' door, ready to slip down the staircase if she needed to.  Pausing for just a moment, she looked down at the hall.  It was empty. With one more glance towards her doorway, she quickly entered Maedhros' room and leaned against the door as she closed it. She stood listening for any approaching footsteps.  Hearing none, Ailsa allowed herself to breathe again.  She knew she would have to be quick as her eyes darted around the room searching for anything that would help her.

The room was bigger than hers was, but sparsely furnished. The walls were paneled in unpolished oak. Strangely, some of the panels still bore hunks of bark, still fresh as on a living tree. Ailsa raised her eyes and discovered a border of real ivy vines trailing around the top of the walls. What an odd touch. 

A large bed with an ornately carved head and footboard was positioned lengthwise in front of the French doors leading to the balcony. Two large bookcases stood against one wall, a dark mahogany desk and chair sat between them. The shelves were filled with books and neat piles of National Geographic magazines. Ailsa quickly scanned the titles of the books: mostly biographies and some reference books. Maedhros must be a man who would rather glean information about the world around him than lose himself in popular fiction or fantasy novels.

Large windows on either side of the French doors allowed the sun to bathe the room in its golden light. Carved tree branches held the panes of glass in place in the frames of the closed doors. Shear white panels of silk hung down their front, and there were two huge pots of ivy on either side of the doorframes.  Ailsa followed the trail of ivy as it climbed around the doorframes and continued up the walls forming the border.

Ailsa's lips curled into a smile. Maedhros' bedroom reflected the same mixture of natural and elegant comfort that made up the entire house. She shook her head as she imagined Maedhros sleeping with the French doors open regardless of the weather like a child in a treehouse high above the ground. 

She quickly moved over to the desk, and sat in the chair. There were neither drawers nor any little nooks to poke in. An onyx Monte Blanc fountain pen with gold accents lay all alone on the immaculate green blotter. She picked the pen up and rolled it between her fingers.  The fat barrel was designed to fit a man's hand and she decided it suited Maedhros. She put it back on the blotter. A small brass carriage clock sat near the left corner of the desk.  As Ailsa looked at the beautiful timepiece, she found there was something odd about it.  She picked it up, and gave it a quizzical look. The face was mother of pearl, but lacked both an hour and minute hand. Why would Maedhros have a clock that was obviously broken sitting on his desk?  She positioned it back in its corner and looked at the green shaded banker's lamp on the right corner.  Ailsa pulled its small gold chain; it lit up.  Well that works.  There was nothing else on the desktop.

Sitting in the chair, she looked at the immaculate desktop.  Ailsa realized there was something missing from it and in the room in general. It was obvious once she looked around the bedroom again. There weren't any photos scattered around or on the walls. No pictures of vacations, family members, friends, the odd girlfriend, not even a pet.

There was only one thing on the far wall.  A long oddly shaped shield hung on the wall with a long sword and dagger mounted on it. The shield was metal and was shaped like a long leaf, tapering to a point at both ends. Nothing else was on the walls; just this mounted display.  Maedhros must have an interest in antique weaponry.   

As Ailsa approached the shield, she could sense a deep desire growing in her to hold the weapons in her hands. She easily dismissed it as harmless fancy, and couldn't help an admiring smile as she ran her fingertips along the finely embossed scabbard of the long sword. Such detailing made the sword more like a beautiful piece of art. Ailsa had some knowledge about ancient arms, however there was something unique about these weapons.

The fittings around the opening of the scabbards were made of polished brass and there were engraved brass tips at the ends.  The long grip of the sword was leather-covered wood. An inlay of gold oak leaves spiraled around the handle and into the flat piece that acted as the counterweight at the end.  Ailsa pulled the sword easily from its scabbard.  The weapon was about five feet long and must have been wielded by a very tall warrior. It had the elegant shape of an elongated S.  The handle was half its length in proportion to the sharp edged blade. She stood with both hands around the hilt and was amazed at the balanced lightness of it. She took a few amateur swipes, and smiled at the fluid curve of the weapon as it sliced gracefully through the air. She could actually feel the sword's reassuring power running up her arms, as if it was confirming…I will protect you.

Along the ridge of the blade was etched an amazing design of long tailed O's and scattered dots. An eight-sided star with eight accent spikes was engraved near the hilt. The end of the sword came to an intimidating tempered point.  Ailsa imagined that when used properly, this was a weapon that could do some serious damage.  She quickly sheathed it and pulled out the dagger.

It was about a foot long, but was just as deadly looking as the sword. This smaller weapon also felt very natural in her hand.  It had similar decorations around handle. The triangular blade was etched with the same type of design as the sword. A smaller version of the star was engraved at the base of the dagger. Ailsa ran her finger over the etched design of the blade. The steel felt warm and the light reflected off the polished metal like a mirror. She reluctantly returned the dagger to its leather scabbard. Both weapons were in excellent condition, and obviously special to their owner.

Time was running out; she had to finish and get out of there before she was discovered. Besides, a feeling of guilt was starting to grow in the pit of her stomach that kept nagging at her…she really shouldn't be there. 

Maedhros' dressing room was just that, a room to dress in.  Several suits of various dark shades were hanging neatly from a pole.  Closer examination found they were in the familiar style she had often seen him wear. There was a row of open shelves down one side of the wall with shirts, and other bits of clothing.  Two pair of polished boots, one black and the other deep brown, stood pitifully alone on the floor below the suits.  Ailsa shook her head; Maedhros was definitely no clotheshorse.

She walked over to the French doors and opened them. Stepping out onto the balcony, she stopped abruptly. "Wow!" She breathed out the word.  Maedhros' balcony did have the best view.  The forest behind the gardens stretched out before her and followed the coastline for some miles in either direction. The intense cobalt blue sky above her stretched out forever. There were only one or two wisps of clouds near the horizon to mar its perfection. The cliff and the sea were hidden behind the tall trees, but the wind brought with it the fresh salt scent of the breaking waves as it caressed her senses. What marvelous sunsets he must see from here.  She found herself standing at the edge of the balcony, her body pressed against the railing. Ailsa ran her hand along the balustrade.  She laughed; the stone was carved to resemble tree bark.

Ailsa closed her eyes and drank in the moment. The feeling of being part of the wind and the sea swept over her. Awareness of all the sounds of water and air, the far off call of birds, the rustling of the many trees around her.  These things nourished her in the solitude of the balcony.  But it wasn't her solitude. This was supposed to be his balcony, she was trespassing on his solitude. She quickly opened her eyes.  What am I doing?  This is crazy…I have no right to be here.  It was definitely time to leave.

She opened the bedroom door a crack and peered into the gallery.  No one was there.  Ailsa left the room quietly closing the door behind her.  As she descended the staircase, she breathed a sigh of frustration. Well, that was…useless. All she had discovered was Maedhros was very neat, he liked ancient weapons, he wasn't a clotheshorse, and he had expensive taste in writing implements.  And oh yes, he had a strange attachment to clocks that couldn't tell the time.  Good one, Ailsa.

There was only one thing left to do.  She still had Mrs. Whitehall as a possible source of information. There was also a growing need inside her for a big cup of coffee. As she walked into the kitchen, she found the housekeeper making blackberry jam. There were several jars already made on the counter. Tammy, the other housemaid, was helping.

"Can I get you some breakfast, Miss?" Mrs. Whitehall smiled wiping her hands on her apron as she noticed Ailsa. 

Ailsa nodded her "good mornings" to the women. "Don't bother Mrs. Whitehall.  I'm the one who overslept.  Toast and coffee will do me just fine."  The smell of the cooking jam made her mouth water. "However, I could be talked into some of that jam for my toast," she suggested, her eyes twinkling mischievously.  Mrs. Whitehall was eager to oblige. Ailsa found a large ceramic mug and poured herself some coffee.  She sipped the wonderful dark brew as she walked towards the kitchen table.

"You go into the dining hall and I'll bring you your toast."  Mrs. Whitehall smiled.

Ailsa refused to eat her simple breakfast alone in the large dining hall.  "No you won't. I can't let you go to all that trouble. I can easily sit right here at this little corner of the table." She plunked herself down in the chair.  "I promise not to get in your way."

The older woman shook her head smiling.  Tammy brought Ailsa a plate of thick slices of buttered toast and a small dish of jam. As she ate her jam-covered toast, Ailsa watched the housekeeper as she went about her business.  "How long have your worked for the estate, Mrs. Whitehall?" Ailsa asked nonchalantly between bites.

"Oh, the mister and I've worked here for nearly twenty years."

"How long has Maedhros been here?"  Ailsa hoped she sounded less inquisitive than she actually was.  She took a deep drink of her coffee.

"Oh, he was here before I came."  She said matter-of-factly.

Ailsa choked on her coffee.  "He was here twenty years ago?" She asked as she dabbed coffee droplets from her chin.  "He must have been a boy," she said incredulously.  Maedhros didn't look much older than thirty.

"No, he was very much an adult." Mrs. Whitehall turned her hand on her hip. "Unfortunately, some men don't show their age," she chuckled and winked at Ailsa.  "Some of the villagers even swear the people of Eglar Tir have had dealings with the fairy folk." 

"Humph," Ailsa's only comment as she finished the last morsel of toast. Now she could add the fact that Maedhros was a lot older than he looked.  She just couldn't leave it though.  "Does he have much family around here?  He's such a quiet guy; he never talks about himself.  I don't think we even know if there's a Mrs. Maedhros somewhere." 

Mrs. Whitehall looked sadly at Ailsa. "I know he can be rather stand-offish. And that will take some getting used to, Miss." She stepped closer to Ailsa. "He's a good employer and a fine man. But there's a great sadness in him. One time, he told me that he considered Egla Tir his only home. His eyes were filled with such a look of sorrow, I knew that he had some great grief in his life." Mrs. Whitehall sighed.

That would explain the reason why he didn't have any photos in his room. Too many memories. If what Mrs. Whitehall said was true, she couldn't help feeling sorry for Maedhros. She couldn't imagine being alone like that.

"And then there was that awkwardness between him and the last heir." Tammy quietly joined the conversation.

"With Richard Matthews?" Ailsa was surprised.  When he was in California, Maedhros had been eager to return to Egla Tir because Richard Matthews was doing so poorly.

"Now don't be going spreading gossip like that." Mrs. Whitehall chastised the housemaid. "We don't know for sure that they had hard feelings between them."

Tammy smiled wickedly at Mrs. Whitehall.  "All I know is that Mr. Matthews never had much time for Maedhros.  I don't remember them having too many friendly chats."

"That's quite enough from you.  Why don't you go find Colleen and give her a hand with the upstairs cleaning."  Mrs. Whitehall's face was a bit pink.  She was obviously upset. Tammy ignored the older woman's anger and slowly left the kitchen.

After Tammy was finally gone, Mrs. Whitehall looked at Ailsa.  "Don't be putting to much into servants' gossip, Miss.  Mr. Matthews wasn't a very happy person. And well…Maedhros is such a private man; he's a bit of a fertile field for speculation. You know."

"I guess so." Ailsa couldn't think of anything else to say.  It seemed that Maedhros was on more minds than just hers. She wasn't going to be able to get anymore information about him; at least nothing to help explain last night and why she still felt so disjointed about what she had experienced.

Maybe Richard Matthews found it too hard to have a friendship with a man so emotionally barricaded against the world.  Who knows, maybe she'd never get to know him better. She had plenty of time to try to crack that interminable façade of his. Maybe now, she'd do better to put her energies into something other than prying into Maedhros' life. "Thanks for breakfast, Mrs. Whitehall.  I'm going to the library to get some work done."  She got up wiping her mouth on her napkin.

"Oh dear, I almost forgot.  A delivery came this morning from your mother." 

Ailsa looked up at the housekeeper.  "Really?"  Ailsa was excited.  "Where is it?" 

"I had the furniture put into the morning room.  You can let one of the girls know where you want to put it.  And the rest of the crates are in the back storeroom waiting for you to go through them."  Mrs. Whitehall was very efficient.

"Does my father know the crates arrived?" she asked as she made her way to the back of the kitchen. 

"Well, he's busy this morning and didn't want to be disturbed. Oh, and there's a note about someone named Earl?" 

"My cat?"  Ailsa couldn't believe her mother would send Earl to Cornwall.  The English laws were very strict about foreign pets.  There was a six-month quarantine before they were allowed into the country.  That was the reason she had left Earl at home. Ailsa figured she'd be back in Berkeley long before he could be sprung from quarantine.  Now what was she going to do?

She read her mother's note confirming Earl's predicament. "Nice one, mom," she said under her breath.

"I'm going to go through the crates, Mrs. Whitehall," she said.  "Please let me know if my father comes up for air."  She left the older woman chuckling in the kitchen.

She spent the rest of the day sorting out the stuff her mother sent.  The furniture was easy, a piece here, a piece there.  She even found a place in the library for one of the end tables.  She wasn't surprised the door to the Archive room was closed.  She'd tell her father about the shipment later at dinner.

The books were also easy.  Most of them were her father's; the few that were hers she placed in her bedroom bookcase. There was a box filled with bags of her favorite coffee beans from Peet's Coffee. Way to go mom!  Ailsa shook her head when she found a car survival kit at the bottom of one of the smaller crates, which included flares, a flashlight, a space blanket, and there was even the all important keychain sized can of mace attached to one of Ailsa's backpacks. Everything for every occasion. 

She laughed out loud when she found the six cases of Napa Valley wine included in her mother's shipment.  Three cases of Chardonnay, and three Cabernet Sauvignon. Leave it to her mom to make sure they had the correct wine for their meals.  She had the bottles put into the small wine rack off of the kitchen.

She'd seen Maedhros only once during the day, and that was enough.  She had taken a load of books into the library and found him sitting cross-legged on one of the window seats, writing in a leather journal.  She watched him for moment.  He was using the fountain pen she had seen in his room.  She'd been right, it did suit him.  She couldn't help thinking he looked like a little boy sitting in the sun doing his homework.  She again remembered how differently he looked the previous night and a shiver shot down her spine.  He looked up from his writing at that moment and their eyes locked.  She could feel no sadness in those grey eyes now. Instead they seemed filled with curiosity.  No words passed between them.  She felt her face blush, and lowered her eyes. Ailsa placed the books on the desk.  She could still feel Maedhros' eyes on her as she quickly left the room. 

- 0 -

 
Maedhros watched Ailsa's face as they're eyes met.  He could feel the questions she longed to ask him.  And for a moment, he thought she might speak, but her discomfort in his presence only made her flee the room.  As he rolled the pen in his fingers, he knew some of her discomfort was due to her own secrets.  His eyes slowly traveled to the empty doorway.  There was a cheerless smile on his lips as he remembered Ewan's words.  "She won't be satisfied until she learns the truth." 
 
Maedhros drew in a deep breath and wondered if the truth was really ever satisfying.
 

- 0 -

Days passed without any of the excitement repeating itself from the night of the full moon.  Ailsa kept herself busy with odd jobs around the house.  She explored more of the grounds; she even took a few trips into the village.  Since she didn't want to terrorize the countryside with her American driving habits, Colleen graciously accepted her request to drive her to the village.  Mrs. Whitehall had been right about the villagers though; they seemed politely intrigued by the new resident of Egla Tir.

Any questions Ailsa had about Maedhros took a backseat to her increasing worry as her father's growing obsession with the Archives took over his life.  He spent long days and nights down there doing whatever it was he was doing. When she finally asked Maedhros, all he would say was that a particular scroll had fascinated Ewan.  Ailsa didn't know if she should believe him or not. 

The only times she saw her father was during meals, where he'd gulp his food down and rush off to continue his "research."  She couldn't even convince him to tour his own estate.  She was just about to call her mother with her concerns one morning, when she overheard her father already on the phone.

"I know Patrice…It may have been a stupid thing to do, but I've made my choice."

"Now you know you don't mean that…"

"Our life is here in Cornwall now…"

Ailsa sat on one of the stairs and listened.  She couldn't believe they had upgraded their fighting to the transcontinental level.  Her father held the phone to his ear for a long time without speaking.  Finally, he lowered his head and said, "If that's what you really want Patrice, what can I say?"

Ailsa went to her father and touched his arm.  He looked at her, disappointment filling his eyes.  "Listen, Ailsa is standing here.  Why don't you talk to her."  He handed her the phone and left the hall.  Ailsa watched him go into the library.  Her hand trembled as she put the phone to her ear.  "Mom?" 

"It's just like your father to leave me with the dirty work."  Patrice began sarcastically.

"What are you talking about…you mean closing the house?"  Ailsa didn't have a clue what her mother meant.

"I've decided not to come to Cornwall." She announced.

"You've got to be kidding."  Ailsa felt as if she had just been punched in the stomach. 

"Do you know what he did?"  Her mother raved on.  "He quit his job.  Quit!  He didn't take a leave of absence, he just up and quit without discussing it with me or anyone else."

"I don't care what he did," Ailsa shot back.  "Long distance is not the way to deal with something like this."

"I've had enough," her mother started to cry.  "I'm not putting up with any more of his crap."

"But how…when…can't you come here and talk it out?"  She tried desperately to think of a good argument.

"No!  I don't want anything to do with his damn inheritance."

"But mom…you're being so unreasonable," she argued. 

"No, he's being unreasonable.  I'm just trying to keep from losing everything I've worked so hard for here." Ailsa was speechless.

"I have to go Ailsa.  I'll send the rest of your father's things as soon as I can.  You take care of yourself and I'll be talking to you soon. I love you."  Click!  Her mother was gone. 

Ailsa stood for a minute with the phone in her hand.  What the hell just happened?  Slowly, she put the phone in the cradle. She needed to see her father.

She thought for sure she would have to go down to the Archive room, but instead she found him in the upper library.  He sat at one of the windows, his face full of dismay.  What surprised her most was Maedhros standing close by, attempting to comfort him with just his presence. 

Maedhros saw Ailsa in the doorway and gestured to her to come in.  She walked over to her father and knelt down beside him.  Maedhros lightly placed his hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed it.  Wordlessly, he left them alone.  She covered her father's hand with her own and waited for the words to come.

Ewan sat there numb to everything, but the sensation of Ailsa's welcome hand covering his.  He still couldn't believe what had just happened. What had made him think that Patrice wouldn't find out what he'd done?  All his hopes had hung on her coming to Cornwall and discovering the wonders of Egla Tir. What a fool he was.  She's not coming!  She wants nothing to do with Egla Tir…or me! The phrases repeated themselves over and over in his mind.

After a while, he began to talk. "I knew Egla Tir was going to be our future. I honestly had the full intention of getting just a leave of absence. But by the time I was finished talking, I had quit my job." A brief sad smile came to his lips. 

Ewan lowered his head further. "You know, it was inevitable."  Ailsa couldn't bring herself to look at her father's face as he spoke. His voice was filled with such quiet pain.  "We haven't been happy for a while now."  He stopped, as if saying the words out loud suddenly destroyed any chance of salvaging his world.

Ailsa brought her arms up and held him close. "It'll be okay, dad."  Unwanted tears blurred her vision.

Ewan sat very still.  "Sometimes love's not enough." His voice sounded so small…so defeated.

Ailsa let go of her father and sat next to him, the touch of their shoulders the only connection between them. She kept hoping that this one incident wouldn't be the last straw for either of her parents. Father and daughter sat there for quite a while. She looked at his tired face as his eyes hung over the floor. "Well, I'm going to hold out for the 'she'll change her mind' approach."  Ailsa set her jaw as she tried to sound convincing.

Ewan slowly turned and looked at his daughter. He genuinely smiled for the first time that afternoon. His hand came up and gently tweaked her nose. "If that makes you feel better, honey."  He then took her into his arms and hugged her.  Ailsa silently prayed her parents would be all right.

Ailsa didn't mind him going down to the Archive room to "do a little work" before dinner.  Stepping into the hall, she looked around to make sure no one was around and quickly walked toward the great stairs.  Her eyes stung with unshed tears.  Refusing to be caught crying, she sprinted up the main staircase and almost collided with Maedhros.  She stood motionless as his concerned eyes searched her face, and felt his comfort enfold her. Henion, tithen min. 

She swallowed hard trying to control her tears. "Thank you for what you did for my father."  She said, and quickly continued up the stairs.  Maedhros watched as Ailsa made her way to her room. She seemed so much younger, so alone as she tried to hide her tears. He felt helpless that he could do nothing to help either father or daughter.  He hated that they had to suffer over this.  Standing a moment more watching Ailsa's door slowly close, he knew what he had to do. 

To Be Continued Chapter 4 Part 2

Chapter Text

A few days later –
 
Ailsa sat alone at the large dining table, a cooling bowl of stew sat forlornly in front of her.  She had no idea where Maedhros was. And once again, her father had waved off the offer of a hot meal. Since his wife's call, Ewan had buried himself even deeper in the Archives. 
 
Poor Mrs. Whitehall had gone out of her way tonight preparing his favorite dish, a hearty beef stew.  To add to the enticement, she'd baked three small loaves of fresh white bread, and a blackberry cobbler was cooling on the sideboard.  Nothing had worked.  Ailsa stared hard at the glass of Cabernet on the table.  She took small comfort in the thought that her mother would cringe to know her favorite "Estate Grown Vintners Reserve" was being sipped with a lowly beef stew.
 
She sighed heavily, forehead cradled between thumb and forefinger.  Even though she was still angry at her mom, Ailsa still missed her. As time passed, she missed California and her friends too.  Heck, she missed her life!  She missed poor Earl, still stuck in "kitty quarantine."  She missed Kyle, though not nearly as much as perhaps she should.  Picking up her neglected spoon, she slowly swirled it through the now thoroughly congealed stew and let her thoughts linger on her lack of concern about Kyle's absence.
 
"Good evening, Ailsa."
 
The spoon suddenly took on a life of its own as she started at the sound.  It flopped out of the bowl and onto the damask tablecloth with a soft "flub," spattering brown bits of her meal across the place setting.  The glass of wine also joined the party.  Tapped by her elbow, it sloshed a good portion of its contents onto the cloth, spreading into a lovely red splotch.
 
Maedhros, standing in the doorway across from her, tilted his dark auburn head slightly to one side.  The tiniest hint of amusement softened his features.  "My apologies, I did not mean to alarm you…" He began, stepping nearer as if to help. 
 
"Oh, no, no, no…really, it's fine… Oh, crap… I just…I didn't hear you…" Ailsa nervously tried to dab up some of the wine with her napkin, which was no help whatsoever.  Giving up, she surveyed the mess she'd managed to make and made a small snort of disgust.  "Well, this is nice."  Blushing slightly she looked up at her now quite amused companion.  He had grabbed a second napkin and held it out hopefully.  "Would this…?  No, perhaps not." 
 
Ailsa decided to make light of it.  "I don't suppose you'd like to try some?" she said, waving her spoon with its lumpy contents in front of his face. "It's actually quite good, in the bowl, that is." Maedhros rewarded her with the tiniest of smiles.
 
"No thank you.  I believe I will trust your judgement on that.  However, I am about to take a walk along the cliffs.  There is a beautiful path that leads down to an open-air theatre.  I believe you have not seen it yet.  It is a fair distance, but you can see the entire coastline from there.  Would you care to join me?  It is going to be a lovely clear night."
 
Ailsa looked up at him, and considered his offer.  He didn't seem so imposing now, with that slight touch of lightness softening his face.  It took her only a heartbeat to decide.  "Sure, why not. Just let me clean this mess up, first…"
 
Maedhros dismissed the idea with a slight wave of his hand.  "Oh, I think Mrs. Whitehall will be able to take care of that.  She is quite protective of her duties, you know.  Shall we go?"  With that, he stepped back and with a tilt of his head, informed her that the decision was made and it was time to depart.  Ailsa walked round the table, and met his eyes briefly.  "I could tell her that you did it," she teased, not wanting to loose complete control of the situation. 
 
Again, an "almost" smile flitted across his lips.  "She would never believe it."
 
"No, I'm sure she wouldn't." Ailsa smiled back.
 
As they walked, Ailsa's mind was awhirl with the thoughts she had accumulated about Maedhros. She couldn't get over the impression that he was just an observer, never quite willing to fully participate in their lives. He was kind, but so deeply guarded…so reserved.  He seemed to know what she was thinking, but he never tried to talk to her about much of anything.  Their exchange in the dining room was the first real conversation they'd ever had, and it had been about beef stew and taking a walk.  Not exactly deep topics.  This invitation was the first time he'd ever offered anything of himself to her since their arrival.  True, he spent a great deal of time with her father, but even that didn't seem to be a friendship either. 
 
She knew he took these walks each evening just before sunset.  Clear or cloudy, each twilight he made the same journey.  Why?  Ailsa took heart, maybe this could be the beginning of her getting to know him better.
 
They walked for quite a while in silence.  Maedhros led her down steps carved into the cliff face. Ailsa smiled as their destination came into full view. The large open-air theatre was perched high on a gully over a great black headed crag. Long terraced granite seats faced several small stages and the entire vista of sea and sky. 
 
Ailsa slowly turned taking in the simple beauty of this strangely wonderful place.  The rich orange gold of the setting sun played with the lengthening shadows over the granite seats.  She walked to a stone wall overlooking the sheer drop into the sea and felt the touch of the wind as it played with her hair.  She stood staring out across the circular bend of the high cliffs to her left.   At their very tip, several dark fingers of rock jutted up from the sea floor causing the ocean to swirl and crash around them.  The sun was slowly lowering itself into the waiting ocean.  The sky was awash with blue and orange as the final rays of the sun painted the gathering clouds with its light. Ailsa stood mesmerized by the view.
 
Maedhros had gone a ways ahead of her, out to one of the circular points.  Wanting to share the beauty of the sunset, Ailsa looked around for him. She found him sitting in profile on one of the wide stone walls, his hair once again unbound, his knees drawn up to his chest.  As he stared moodily out to the darkening sea, the last light of the sun was casting a golden glow across the side of his face. 
 
Ailsa studied him in that bath of golden light.  For a moment he appeared not so careworn. She could see what he must have looked like before he worked so diligently to keep his true self hidden behind his thick impenetrable walls. 
 
She drew in her breath slowly. His handsome face was a smooth golden alabaster in the waning sunlight. Bright copper threads were woven within the deep red strands of his hair. He was so…striking? Feeling her stare, the object of her musings turned his head slightly to look at her. No emotion was betrayed on his fine patrician features. He merely sat regarding her, his arms still wrapped around his legs.  Ailsa took a few halting steps along the wall.  She felt the need to speak, although the distance between them would have required her to shout over the loud rumble of the surf below.
 
Under normal circumstances she would have let her eyes slide past him, embarrassed at being caught staring so openly. Instead, she held his gaze steadily. Everything around her dropped away from sight.  Even the sea seemed to be waiting for something; it's rhythmic pulse dulling to a steady drone.  She felt she was peering through a spyglass at some vision far away.  Only the face of Maedhros remained in focus.  His grey eyes appearing all but black in the last moments of the day as the sun began to slip behind the crisp line of the horizon. 
 
Again, she felt that sense of pain radiating from them.  Like a thunder crack, it came to her. A flash of wild grief ripped through her. This was not the pain of a victim.  No, it was far worse than that.  His eyes were filled with a soul wrenching inner darkness. Terrible guilt and sorrow overwhelmed the spirit of the man in front of her. He had committed some heinous act, something that he could never ask forgiveness for, even from himself.  How she knew this, there was no way for her to tell, but it rang inside her head like some great gong smashing into her senses and sending shudders through her body. 
 
Terrified, Ailsa tried to focus on something, anything else.  She found her eyes would not respond, no matter how hard she tried to peel them away.  Maedhros too stared back as if frozen.  His dark eyes grew even wider, awareness flashing across their surface like ripples on water.  He knew she could feel his shame.
 
Ailsa tensed, waiting for a blow. She was unable to move, unable to look away from the building waves of pain coming from him.  She expected anger, even violence at her unwitting intrusion.  Maedhros still did not move.  He seemed as powerless as she to break the bond that flowed between them.  The darkness of his eyes grew like a black cloud, consuming all else in her sight.  The sound of the sea began its pounding rhythm again, but now with a menacing tone, growing louder with each new assault.  Infinite waves of remorse continued to roll through her, each building upon the other as they pounded through her soul.  It possessed her. It became her guilt, her obsession. 
 
There was an oath. A noble gesture decaying into a loathsome burden.  A horrible path lay stretched out before her.  Unthinkable atrocities committed.  The pounding of the surf became unbearable, pressing into her ears in time with her heartbeat.  If she were able to move, she would have covered her ears, but even that small comfort was beyond her now.  This obsession had swelled out of control.  Just as the unrelenting waves that now crashed into her were out of her control. Dangerous waves, carrying with them the thoughts of a killer. Dark and blood red, throbbing with fury, they were grinding her into nothingness like a pebble caught in the pounding surf of a beach.
 
Alone in the onslaught she could see nothing but the surf and the burning sky. Burning! They had burned all the ships! She could see the blackened skeletons of once elegant sailing vessels…foundered and ablaze in the waves. A sharp wind whistled around and through her, screaming in her ears.  Screams that rose and fell, as they lost life, fading to sobs and then into nothing.  Screams of immortals dying. She knew each voice, each face as if it were her own family.  It was because of her. She had caused their voices to be stilled. So many, so fair, all to die for…nothing!  For an oath, a dark oath that caused this affliction…this madness.  Dear God, it was his madness!  She felt sobs climb through her chest.  She heard a scream and realized it was hers. "THEY DIED FOR NOTHING!"  
 
"Nay, Ailsa, nay."  A voice called softly, as a father would coax his frightened child out of a nightmare.
 
"Come back to this world, hini." 
 
The voice, soft and infinitely gentle reached through the darkness that consumed her. It was all she had to hold on to, and she clung to it with every shred of her sanity.
 
"Lasto beth nin," the voice becoming more intense.  It insisted on being obeyed.  Although she couldn't quite make sense of the words, she understood their meaning.
 
"Tere hi tier, avakhin nin." The darkness receded.  She could put a face to the voice. It was Maedhros, gentler than she had ever heard him, but still she was afraid to follow his commands.
 
"Ve unalye caul gar, nino yelde." His gentle grey eyes filled her vision as sight returned slowly to her.  She blinked, realizing her own eyes were filled with tears.  She took a shaky breath, wondering vaguely how long it had been since she took the last one. Still, she felt disconnected from the world around her and clung to his soft voice and those eyes that filled her dazed mind.
 
It was the sense of touch that returned to her next, tears wet on her cheeks, the cool night breeze drying them.  His right forearm under her shoulder, his left hand firmly holding her jaw, keeping her eyes aligned to his.  She staggered back from his touch, suddenly filled with fear as she remembered the dark waves and the screams in the wind.  How could she reconcile the images and emotions that had just slammed through her with this gentle being in front of her?  She stared wild-eyed at him, desperately trying to gather her scattered thoughts.  Finally her voice returned.  "Wha…My God…What? Why?" She couldn't begin to complete the sentence much less the overwhelming thoughts behind it.
 
Ailsa stood locked into Maedhros' gaze.  She knew he must have been speaking to her because his mouth was moving.  She just couldn't understand the words.  Quite unexpectedly, he took his hand and pushed his hair behind his ears.  Almost at once, his voice was clear and Ailsa eyes finally focused.  "I am not what I seem." She heard him say.  Ailsa watched what his hand was doing and her eyes widened in disbelief; instinctively she stepped back further as she looked at Maedhros' ears. Like some strange character in a fairytale, both of his ears came to a point. 
 
Shocked, Ailsa began to laugh.  "Oh no…no, no, no way." She backed away from him, hands extended in front of her, trying to make him keep his distance.  She felt tears filling her eyes.  She turned away, trying to control them.  Maedhros stepped toward her.  "Ailsa, I know this is distressing," he began.
 
Ailsa whirled around and pointed an accusatory finger at Maedhros.  "You can't…I mean you aren't…I don't believe it…no…no way."  She covered her mouth with her hand, hoping to keep herself from screaming.  There was only one way to escape the madness that threatened to consume her. She turned and fled.  Up the cliff stairs, and back the way they came.  She had to get back to the house…she had to see her father…she needed to talk to him.  Hell, what she really needed was to get them both out of there and back to Berkeley. She focused her thoughts on her father.  She had to find him; she desperately wanted him to tell her that she wasn't crazy.
 
Maedhros was rooted to where he stood as he watched Ailsa fly up the stairs, trying to get as far away from him as she could.  What had he done? His heart felt in shreds; she had seen and felt far too much. Their bond had caused her to know more than she was meant to.  Like a broken dam, everything had poured out nearly destroying the poor girl's mind.
 
He lowered his head.  Too much!  Turning toward the cliff stairs, he began to climb.
 
Ailsa didn't know how long she had been running.  She just knew that she had to get back to the house. Her feet flew over the grassy cliff top and down the rocky paths Maedhros and she had casually walked earlier. Her lungs burned with the exertion.  Adrenaline provided the strength to keep her going.  She was coming out of the woods and about to sprint up the garden steps, when she saw her father at the top of the stairs.  His familiar shape stood silhouetted in the light coming from the back of the manor house. She almost sobbed with joy. 
 
She ran to him and the comfort of his fatherly embrace.  "Ailsa, what's wrong? Are you all right?" Dry sobs made her body shudder.
 
"I was in the Archive room when I got the strangest feeling that something was wrong and rushed out here."  He said as he held her.  "What's wrong?"
 
Ailsa took big breaths and tried to talk. "I…Maedhros…at the cliffs…" She finally swallowed as she gained control of her breathing.  "Dad, there's something wrong with Maedhros."
 
Her father roughly grabbed her shoulders.  "What has happened? Is he hurt?"
 
"Ow!" She winced. Ailsa stared at him in disbelief.  Concern was one thing, but her father's face was filled with fear.
 
"No, he's not hurt." She snapped back.  "In fact, he's just fine.  Right down to his little pointy ears."  Ailsa's eyes smoldered as she glared at her father.
 
Ewan relaxed his grip on his daughter's shoulders after her sarcastic remark. Ailsa couldn't believe it.  He actually sighed with relief.  "Oh, I see." He finally said.
 
"You see?" She nearly shouted.
 
"He was afraid you might be frightened by the fact that he's…different."
 
"Different? DIFFERENT!  That guy's not human."
 
"You're right about that, Ailsa. Actually he's an Elf." Her father said matter-a-factly.
 
Ailsa stared at her father with her mouth slightly agape. She couldn't begin to understand what her father had just said.
 
"Wha...What?" Ailsa couldn't get her mind to work.
 
"Your father is correct, Ailsa" A familiar voice spoke from behind.
 
Ailsa whirled around to find Maedhros calmly climbing the garden steps. He reached the top, "I am of the race called the Eldar. I am an Elf. I've lived here for many years protecting my children, and their children's children of whom you are one."
 
Ailsa's knees began to buckle.  Her father quickly took her arm and directed her to a lawn chair.  He then sat next to her, his face filled with concern.  Maedhros sat down across from them.  Ailsa took a few deep breaths and stared at Maedhros. "At the risk of sounding disrespectful, what the hell are you talking about? I'm no Elf."
 
An ironic smile crept into the corners of Maedhros' mouth.  "True, you are not one of the First Born, but you are a descendent of our race. The blood that flows through your veins is both that of my world and yours. There are many generations between you and I."
 
Ewan leaned forward and placed his hand on her arm.  "Maedhros is our great-great-grandfather many times over."  Ailsa eyes snapped to Maedhros' face.
 
"I am older than I look."  He said in an embarrassed tone. "Elves…for lack of a better term…are immortal." Ailsa, shocked and pale faced, looked at Maedhros with a mixture of fear and fascination. Maedhros was upset to see her that way. "I regret you had to find out about this in such a manner."
 
Ailsa sat back, looking from one man to another.  Well, from one man to an Elf.  " So.  You're…an immortal Elf?"   She raised her hands in front of her. "Okay…I am SO not hearing this!   This has to be some kind of a joke, right?"  She turned to her father. "Isn't it?" Her eyes pleaded.
 
"It's no joke, sweetie." Her father paused.  "There's so much we have to tell you. I don't know where to begin." 
 
This is so insane. Ailsa tried to calm down; she needed to begin thinking clearly again.  "I know where you can begin…how?" Ailsa asked as she looked at Maedhros, defying him to make her believe what he was about to tell her.
 
"That is easier to ask, than it is to answer."  Maedhros hesitated a moment.  Ailsa sensed his reluctance to remember the past.
 
"Try." Ailsa pressed her lips together indicating her skepticism.
 
"We lived in a world that we called Arda in a land called Ennor or Middle-earth.  It is… was… a world of surpassing beauty and magic. There are few places on Earth, as you know it that can begin to match it for it's pure splendor and majesty. Arda existed in a place that is separated from your world.  In my world, our people, the Elves, were the oldest and wisest of the speaking races.  And, within our race, the Noldor, my family was considered to be among the greatest and highest.
 
I was the eldest of seven brothers. We were the sons of Feanor.  Our father was once considered the mightiest of the Noldor, a prince if you will.  His temperament was very fiery and proud, but he was rich in knowledge and skills that no others possessed.  His creations were a source of joy and wonder for all of our people. 
 
But there were evil forces at work, and my father began to jealously guard his creations.  Dark lies were spread, turning Elves against Elves.  In his arrogance, our father believed that everyone coveted his creations.  When dark forces arose and killed our beloved grandfather, Finwe, all of the precious things our father wrought were taken from us.  In his fury he swore a most terrible oath.  It was an oath to pursue and destroy for all eternity anyone who stole or kept our treasures from us.  Because of the love we felt for our father, my brothers and I felt it was our duty to join him in the swearing of this oath.  Had I but realized the cost of our loyalty…"
 
Maedhros stopped; there was no joy in the telling of this tale.  No matter how many times he offered this version, the anguish never diminished.  He saw again his brothers gathered around their father, standing proudly, before the gathering of the Noldor.  Fire burned in their hearts and eyes, and with their swords drawn they made the Oath together. 
 
Sadly, he shook his head. "We swore by the maker and all that is holy to us, that to break or fail this Oath would doom ourselves to the Everlasting Dark.  And yet now, I would gladly accept that fate, if it could have stopped the events that followed. We had all been deceived by evil words, and in our rage we followed our father's madness.   He…we were responsible for the doom of our own people.  In the name of the Oath, unimaginable feats of cruelty, betrayal and madness were committed.  Unable to break our word, my brothers and I were responsible for much of the destruction of our own realm and the deaths of our people.  Our family became despised by all."  Maedhros stopped and averted his eyes.
 
Ewan continued.  "His father and brothers were killed one by one until only Maedhros and his brother Maglor were left.  Remorse over everything they had done made them abandon the Oath and Maedhros was sent here as punishment never to see his world again.  Once here, he was resigned to living out his punishment forever.  In our world, Maedhros began a different life and began a family ." 
 
Ewan was unaware of Maedhros' silence. Ailsa watched Maedhros face as her father spoke.  Whatever he was feeling, he safely hid it behind a familiar wall. Maedhros' attention was once again focused on Ailsa. "Through the ages I realized that most of the myths and legends of your world were similar to events of my world. The names of the people and places were different, but the stories remained true. I began to collect them as memories of my world.  When I realized that these stories must be preserved in their original forms, I built Egla Tir as a refuge for the pieces of your world that reminded me of Middle-earth. My children have been the keepers of this legacy.  For centuries, I have watched over my family, keeping track of the different branches so when the time came, they could be made aware of their inheritance." 
 
She stared into the advancing night unable to fathom what she was being told. Ewan reached over and touched Ailsa's hand jolting her into the reality that she was actually hearing this story. "Generation after generation came and went in this area.  Maedhros' name slowly evolved into the Matthews family name.  This made your grandmother's branch of the family the next in line to receive the inheritance," Ewan said proudly. "That's where we come in, Ailsa. We're the next generations to safeguard not only our past, but Maedhros' as well."
 
The two men had finished and sat looking at the young woman sitting so quietly beside them.  Abruptly, Ailsa slapped her thighs, "Oooookaaay."  Without another word she stood up, pointed to the house and stalked off.  She opened the door to the back of the house, walked in and slammed it behind her leaving the two men staring at each other.  Maedhros began to rise from his seat, but her father held up his hand.  "Remember what we discussed before?  It's better to leave her alone right now. She'll have questions later. Trust me."  A nervous smile touched Maedhros lips as he sat down.  Too much.
 
Once in the house, Ailsa walked straight into the kitchen and then the pantry.  She came out with a large water tumbler and headed for the fridge on the opposite wall.  She removed a half-filled bottle of Chardonnay, leisurely walked over to the kitchen table and proceeded to fill the tumbler nearly to the top. Although the tumbler was big, it wasn't large enough to hold the entire contents of the bottle. Ailsa looked at the small amount remaining shrugged, and putting the bottle to her lips, drained it.
 
Taking her jacket off, she threw it on top of the table. She took the tumbler and walked purposefully through the house and into the library.  Without pausing, she strode to the secret door, and nearly ripped the green book from the shelf.  She stepped back quickly allowing the door to open, being careful not to spill any of her Chardonnay.  Reaching in, she flicked on the light and went down the steps.
 
Once in the Archive room, she made her way to the desk. Sitting in the chair, she kicked her feet up on top of the desk, and rested an elbow on top of a leather book.  She glared around the room still trying to wrap her brain around what she had just heard.  Putting the tumbler to her lips, she took a deep pull of wine.
 
Looking around once more, she began to gently shake her head.  "Holy shit!"
 
She took another drink. What am I going to do now?  Maedhros is obviously crazy and dad has had a breakdown of some kind.  And I'll be just as crazy if I believe one word of what I've been told.  What the hell am I going to do now?
 
Many minutes later, her tumbler was empty, but her mind was just as confused. The leather book she was leaning on had an embossed design on the cover and was pressing uncomfortably into the flesh of her elbow.  It was at that moment; she noticed the book for the first time.  Dropping her feet to the floor, she picked it up and recognized it.  This was the book Maedhros was writing in the other day in the library.
 
She opened it and began to flip through the pages. There in front of her were page after page of the same delicate designs she had seen on the front gate and hall window. They were the same markings she had seen on the sword and dagger in Maedhros room.  She shook her head as she realized they weren't designs.  "Of course, they're words," she said sarcastically. "It's a journal or something." One more thing that wasn't as it seemed. 
 
How can I possibly believe any of this?  Ailsa wanted to believe Maedhros and her father. She wanted to know what it was she had experienced at the open-air theatre. She wanted to be able to look both men in the face and say, "Yes, I believe you."  But then, it'd be too late. She'd be crazy too.
 
Glancing up, she looked around the room again, and noticed for the first time that something wasn't quite right. One of the bookshelves on the adjacent wall didn't line up properly with the others. Putting down Maedhros' journal, she walked over to it.  Upon closer inspection, it became obvious that more than just the shelf was askew.  The whole wall was out of position.
 
Behind the offending shelf, was an unusually wide dark gap from ceiling to floor.  Ailsa could feel a definite moist draft coming from it.  She looked up at the steps leading to the library and remembered the secret door that led down there.  She shrugged. "Why not?"  Testing her theory, she took the shelf with both hands and gave it a strong pull.  Not surprisingly, it opened like the bookcase in the upper library. 
 
Triumphantly, Ailsa looked into the semidarkness and could see a long stone passageway. There was an opening many yards down on the right and a flickering light was coming from it.  Ailsa stood looking at the open doorway trying to decide what to do next. A thought crossed her mind and her eyes narrowed determinedly as she pressed her lips together.
 
She walked over to the stairway leading to the library above and listened a moment for any sounds of footsteps. Hearing none, she quickly turned around, and faced the opening.  Feeling the reassuring affects of her Chardonnay courage, she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath to steady herself, and slowly advanced through the dark doorway towards the shimmering light.
 
To be continued.
 
Translations:
 
Henion, tithen min - I understand, little one.
Hini – child
Lasto beth nin - Listen to my words
Tere hi tier, avakhin nin - Do not follow me over this path.
Ve unalye caul gar, nino yelde - It is not your burden to bear my daughter.
 

Chapter Text

Ailsa tried not to grunt as she awkwardly made her way across the room while carrying the unusually large book. "What is this?" She asked straining in her quest to reach the desk before she dropped the heavy tome. Maedhros, sitting behind the desk reading a scroll, raised his head towards her voice, but his eyes settled on what she was holding. Dropping the scroll on the desktop, he immediately got up and easily took her burden in his arms. Maedhros stared down at the cover for a moment and then looked at Ailsa. "This is your family," he said, his eyes shining. He laid the book on the desk. 

Finding the sizeable unmarked volume while she was cataloging one of the larger units in the Archives, she thought it might be just a boring old Atlas. Now it was definitely more interesting and her curiosity was instantly engaged. She carefully ran her fingers along the edge of the thick dark brown leather cover and noticed it still had detectable spots of gold leaf on the decorative tooling.

Maedhros carefully opened it and stepped aside. Ailsa leaned forward and as her eyes rested on the book; she drew in a quick breath.  It was hard to escape the familiar smell of age and dust, the aroma of wooden walls and floors books acquired over time. As a child, she was introduced to this musty perfume by her father who shared the many books he brought home. She grew accustomed to the scent, even coming to like it. She always associated it with the excitement of finding precious nuggets of information that shed new light on a particular subject.  It continued to comfort her while doing research for her college papers in Berkeley and her job as a research assistant.

The first page of this book was an elaborately decorated sheet of vellum. Accents of various leaves in green and gold leaf adorned each corner. Illustrated in the center was a beautiful drawing of the manor house. Underneath the colorful depiction, "Egla Tir" was written in Elvish script. Ailsa's eyes widened with excitement as she turned the sheet. On the next two pages were the traditional genealogical trees of two Cornish families, one named Bramford and the other Denzell. The pages folded out to reveal larger documents. The Bramfords went all the way back to the time of William the Conquer; the Denzell line went back even further. Many of the names had little coats of arms next to them in colors she knew had once been very bright long ago. "As you probably know, it was the custom of landed families to document lineage as proof of property ownership and other things.  They were also very proud of their origins," Maedhros explained. Ailsa noted a slight hint of admiration in his tone. "Each family had their own records of ancestry.  Some time ago, I had them bound into this one volume."

Ailsa's fascination continued as she carefully refolded the documents and began to slowly turn the rest of the aged pages, traveling through time with each generation. Halfway through the book the two families merged at the top of one page with the entry of marriage between Sir Douglas Bramford to Lady Margaret Denzell. Listed below them were their three children, Richard, Geoffrey, and Elizabeth. A black ink line was drawn from Elizabeth's name towards the right side of the book.  "House of Feanor" was written along the edge of that sheet in Maedhros' bold hand. Ailsa quickly glanced at Maedhros who smiled hesitantly.  After a moment he sighed. "I thought it was only fitting to include the Elvish side of the family as well. You can see I began with my grandparents, Finwe and Miriel."  

Her Elvish ancestors filled about a third of the page, but she knew they had played as much a part in the story of her family as her Cornish ancestors. Maedhros' tree started with Finwe and Miriel and their son. Ailsa paused as she looked at his name…Feanor. So there he was…the one whose limitless arrogance and pride was the reason for all the misery and despair for so many. Ailsa sighed heavily, she couldn't bring herself to actually hate Feanor, but she couldn't bring herself to forgive him either.  His people were cursed and reviled; remembered throughout their history only as the "Kinslayers." This was bad enough, but what she couldn't forgive was how his eldest son suffered daily in a place far from home, deprived of everything all because of his Oath. Ailsa's eyes hardened as she thought of the injustice of it. She quickly remembered she wasn't alone as she felt Maedhros eyes on her.

Maedhros didn't have to read her mind to know what Ailsa was thinking as she stared at his father's name.  One only had to look at her face to know.  The stern look he found there spoke of many thoughts; none of them very kindly. Deep in his heart he wished it could be otherwise. "We thought we knew what we were doing, Ailsa." A frown covered his handsome face. "None of us had any idea it would turn out the way it did."

Ailsa was unable to move as she heard the earnest plea in his voice. "I know," she murmured with her eyes still focused on the book. Maedhros said no more.

Next to Feanor's name was written Nerdanel. Ailsa's face softened as she looked at the name of Maedhros' mother.  He said she had never supported the Oath or her husband's revolt against the Valar, choosing instead to stay in Aman. Ailsa wondered what would have happened if Nerdanel had gone with her family. What kind of a curbing influence might she had been to them all had she followed? Ailsa also wanted to know if after all the death and misery, if Nerdanel ever regretted her decision to stay behind. Sorrow for them all weighed heavily on Ailsa. Will there ever be any peace for him?

Below Feanor and Nerdanel's names, their seven sons were listed across the sheet. Maedhros stood silently as Ailsa quietly read their names out loud: Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod, and Amras. To hear their names spoken by another voice only made Maedhros feel the renewed burden of their loss. Ailsa could feel his loss; they were all meant to live together as a family…forever. Now, only Maedhros was left. Ailsa eyes slowly traveled to the open doorway leading to the Shimmer. They're gone because of that bright jewel in the cave room and its lost companions. She shook her head as she tried to comprehend the madness of it all.

Ailsa followed the thin ink line back to Elizabeth. Here was the haven Maedhros chose from the madness; the mortal woman he married. Her interest only increased as she wondered what Elizabeth had been like. Her face lit up as she read the two names written under Maedhros and Elizabeth:  Douglas Gurveleg and Edward Belegorn. She recognized the Elvish parts of their names: Gurveleg "Great Heart" and Belegorn "Mighty Tree." Of course, his sons would have Elvish names. Their father is after all a Noldorin lord.  It was weird to think of Maedhros as a father. But then she remembered how he always referred to the heirs of Egla Tir as his children. He's taken care of all of us like a father. Ailsa continued to turn the pages following the names of each succeeding generation up to the present. The last entries were her father and mother's names and just below them…her name. 

It felt strange to be the end product of all those who come before, both human and Elf-kind. Some of her ancestors had lived their lives never knowing they were part of such an amazing secret. Others had been part of Egla Tir, but she wondered if they ever really understood or even wanted to know much of their past. All these different people made up the various branches of her family.  Ailsa tried to feel kinship to them all, but she finally had to admit, it was Maedhros she felt closest to.

As she turned the pages back towards the beginning, she noticed something unusual. From Elizabeth through the late Richard Matthews, each name had a birth year, but there was no year of death for any of them. How odd. "Maedhros, why aren't there any…." The answer came to her before she could finish her question. She glanced up, the ancient Elf's attention was on the book, but she could see by his stiff body language, he knew what she was going to ask.

A moment or two passed. "I could never bring myself to record those dates."  Maedhros' voice sounded hollow as he moved away from the desk. It was so obvious; he never came to terms with any of the deaths. Ailsa wondered if it was just the fact that though they were all part of him, none were destined to live forever?  No, that wasn't it. As her eyes returned to Elizabeth's name, an idea struck her. We all carry her blood as well.  Each of these deaths was a reminder he was losing another part of her. Elizabeth wasn't just any woman; she was much much more…and Maedhros loved her for it.  "Tell me about her," she asked.

Maedhros slowly turned, "Elizabeth?" Her name rested on his breath like a prayer. Only in the quiet darkness of night did he allow his heart to whisper her name. Now he was being asked to remember it all. He hesitated, unwilling to recall even the most innocent memory knowing how it would draw his grief to the surface. But how could he deny one of their children the memories he had of the woman who still filled his heart with her song. It was only fitting Ailsa know her…but where to begin? Seeing Ailsa's child-like anticipation, he knew. He gave her the warmest smile and then turned resting his gaze on the passage opening.

"Elizabeth discovered me in the cave room when she was barely ten years old.  Just a little thing, with two great big eyes. I remember how they were filled with a mixture of wonder and fright that day." Maedhros moved his head slightly. "You have her eyes you know," he said over his shoulder.

Ailsa blushed as she felt the heavy emotion in his voice.  She suddenly sensed she was intruding. "Listen Maedhros, you don't have to do this."

Maedhros chuckled quietly, "No, I wish to tell you. I want you to know her as I did." He walked over to the desk and offered Ailsa the chair.  After she was seated, he continued.

"She came down the passage that summer's morning, fascinated by the strange light coming from the cave room, only to find a brilliant shining mist hanging in the air and a kneeling figure by the pool."  He shook his head as he recalled the thoughts swarming in his mind then…everything was chaos. But he was talking of Elizabeth now, not what he was feeling. "I was that kneeling figure. At first, she was frightened that I might be a spirit or some dark presence. I had no idea she was there and, in my frustration, I began yelling at the shimmer. My shouts of despair startled her and she gasped dropping her lantern. I swiftly turned to face the noise, dagger in hand.  She stood her ground, strong, and did not run."

Ailsa was fascinated as she watched Maedhros gesturing and moving about the room as he spoke. She had never seen him so animated. His words held such warmth, such loving remembrance.

"She said something, but I could not understand it. However, when I spoke to her, she fled seemingly into the wall.  I followed her out into the light and could not see where she had gone. Suddenly I realized I was no longer in Middle-earth and that my punishment was to be even worse. The song we Elves hear in our souls connecting each of us to the other was silenced.  The complete isolation quickly bore down on me hard and I fell to my knees.  I was to be totally alone in this alien world and I no longer cared what happened to me."

Ailsa sat mesmerized; every word painting the sad picture of his torment.  Her heart ached for him; how abandoned and frightened he must have been.

"Suddenly I felt a light touch on my shoulder. I slowly lifted my head to see the same young girl standing nervously in front of me, trying to offer me comfort." Maedhros smiled as he remembered. 

"She pointed to herself and said 'Elizabeth.' Little did I know how much that name would come to mean to me. Her courage and compassion helped bring me out of the darkness into which I had fallen. She was my protector and my friend and over the years our friendship grew."  A slight smile pulled at Maedhros' lips as he turned to face the passage opening again; unaware of the silence that now filled the Archives.

"But when…." Ailsa began to ask, but stopped. Maedhros knew what Ailsa hesitated asking. "She had just turned seventeen when I became aware my feelings had grown beyond friendship." His shining eyes darkened as he began to remember. The lights in the Archives began to dim and the soft glow of torches filled the room. Maedhros began to hear music and the sound of laughter…

- O -

 
Maedhros sat among the other guests in the great hall of Bramford castle.  A group of young women danced to a lively tune played by the musicians in the gallery overlooking the festivities. Each dancer wore garlands of flowers in her unbound hair and around her neck. Many of the guests were enjoying the way the torchlight danced off the shining fabric of the dancers' gowns as they swayed to the music. Others enjoyed how the dancers' long pale arms intertwined forming a perfect circle of youth and beauty. All attention save one was focused on the graceful performers.
 
No one thought the tall handsome lord was out of place at this gathering. The guests accepted Maedhros easily now. The reason for this swift acceptance was due to the woman who sat regally at the head table. Lady Margaret invented a story that sounded more truth than lie. Maedhros was a distant relative from a branch of her family in a far northern province. He sought sanctuary with his "cousin" when war threatened to break out on his father's lands. His father had disowned him when Maedhros decided to fight for the wrong side in the war between the Lancasters and the Yorks. Although he had his supporters, he could not bring himself to be the reason for his people to kill each other. Maedhros was astonished when he heard the story she spread. He wondered how she would had reacted if she knew she harbored a true kinslayer.
 
The end of the tale she devised for him was not much different from how he genuinely felt. He craved a simple life now and gladly lived quietly on her lands. This part was true and was what kept Maedhros involved in the various goings on of the estate. Without hesitation, Maedhros pledged his sword to defend the Bramford lands should it ever be needed. Thankfully, peace still reigned in this little part of Cornwall for now. The ghost stories gratefully stopped once everyone knew Maedhros was no wandering spirit. People were no longer frightened when they saw him walking in the woodlands. In fact, there was even the occasional shy wave and "Good morrow!" from one or two braver souls. Maedhros became a familiar presence.
 
He was delighted when a messenger arrived with Lady Margaret's invitation to the feast. He had been a guest at Bramford castle many times after her first visit, but tonight was special.  It was Elizabeth's seventeenth birthday, and he would be among those gathered to wish her well.
 
The food served earlier in the evening had been excellent as usual, and no goblet remained empty for long. However, Maedhros found his wine a bit sour tonight and did not drink much of it.  And although most eyes were happily on the dancers, Maedhros' eyes were engaged elsewhere. He watched the head table with keen interest. Elizabeth sat next to her mother, but her attention was fixed on a young man seated at another table across the hall. The young lord was obviously smittened with the attention he was receiving from such a lovely creature.  Maedhros frowned as he watched her smile shyly and tilt her head ever so slightly to look at her young guest from under her long dark lashes. Was she actually flirting with that…boy? Maedhros had never seen Elizabeth act like this before. Though his face continued to maintain a mask of composure, his eyes were keenly watching everything that passed between Elizabeth and the boy across the hall.
 

Lady Margaret allowed the tiniest of smiles to play on her lips. To anyone else, she seemed to be enjoying the evening's entertainment. Oh, she was entertained all right, but not by the group of young girls dancing in the center of her hall.  She was amused by the looks of the love-sick boy on one side of her hall and the expression of irritation on the face of the Elven lord sitting on the other. She smiled because Maedhros was beginning to realize something she had known for some time. In fact, she had hoped an opportunity would present itself and she was happy now because it finally had. Her enjoyment only increased as she wondered why, when it came to feelings, men in general were such blind fools.

 
Maedhros had had enough; he needed to leave the great hall. Getting up from his seat, he bowed to Lady Margaret and made his way through the crowd.  He desperately sought the night air in the vain hope it would clear his mind of the troubling thoughts that threatened to make a permanent home there tonight.  He found a quiet spot on one of the turrets and stood staring out into the night sky.  Normally, the promises of starlight would bring him much comfort. Tonight, no matter how he tried, the stars failed to promise anything but feelings of annoyance. Something was wrong. Why did he care if Elizabeth flirted with anyone? That she would consider that boy…at all.  She was of age…was it not natural that she would seek other…other attachments? His irritation only increased.  No, it did not feel natural to him at all.
 
Drawing in a long breath, he let it out slowly as he tried to calm his thoughts. He was deceiving himself; it was all too natural. As natural as the feelings he had to acknowledge within himself. His eyes were drawn to the tiny points of light above him. "Elizabeth," he said to them. His heart swelled with her name on his lips. Savior he had called her for bringing him back to life, but now she also awakened his heart to the glory of his true feelings. The same heart that felt as if it would burst as he realized how much she meant to him. Within another heartbeat, he felt it begin to break as he realized how she must never know how he felt.
 
Maedhros did not need to be reminded that love between an Elf and a mortal was a tragedy from the start.  He had known such pairings before, and he remembered how their love could not change the inevitable. But he also remembered how Luthien and Beren fought for their chance to be together, and when Tuor grew old, did not Idril risk the wrath of the Valar when she sailed with her beloved to Aman in an attempt to extend his life? For their allotted time, were they not all happy?
 
He could not allow himself to even consider the possibility. Could he deny Elizabeth the life she was meant to have? The life destined for her even before he was thrust into her world.  He lowered his head as his mind raged against the base cruelty of the word…truth. He shook his head, "No, I can not." Maedhros felt his chest tighten; whatever happened, he was going to lose her.
 
Unable to stop the conflicting waves of emotions surging through him, he looked into the night sky once more. He grieved knowing what he must do. Even before he left the turret, he had formulated his plan.  Halfway back to the great hall, he saw Lady Margaret coming toward him. Quickly composing himself, he stopped and bowed. "My lady," he said.
 
"You have been missed, Lord Maedhros."  Lady Margaret searched the Elf's face. Though he still retained his usual look of calm, his eyes betrayed him. "Is anything wrong?"
 
"No my lady, I just needed some air," he told her. This was no lie.
 
"Well, we better get back to the hall. The minstrels will be starting soon, and perhaps we can get a song from you tonight. I understand you have a very lovely voice."  She tried to smile as she suppressed her growing concern.
 
"My lady, I regret I must leave.  If the truth be known, I am not feeling well and I think it best I return home."
 

Lady Margaret's concern increased. "If you are ill, I will call my physician."  She had never known Maedhros to be unwell.

 
"I appreciate your generous offer, but it is an old complaint." Maedhros raised his right arm and gently cradled the leather caplet covering the stump of his wrist in his hand. "Sometimes it bothers me. However, I have things in my cave that will help me."
 
Margaret's mind was filled with apprehension.  "I am sure we have medicines here that will aid you. Besides, the dampness of your cave may do more harm than good to your arm." Her hand came up and lightly touched the sleeve of his jerkin. "Maedhros, I can not allow you to go out into the night like this."
 
Maedhros looked at the amazing woman in front of him and regretted lying to her. "You need not worry, my lady. I have excellent eyes for seeing in the dark."  He tried to smile convincingly. "All will be well."
 
Margaret Bramford knew a defeat when faced with it. "Well, if I can not make you change your mind, we better tell Elizabeth you are leaving."
 
Maedhros paled. "I do not want to disturb her fun.  If you will be so kind, just tell her I said farewell." He bowed again and began to walk away. 
 
Margaret knew something was definitely wrong. She quietly followed him, watching as he paused at the large doorway leading into the great hall.  Like a statue he stood, his eyes staring as if memorizing the scene before him. Then, in an unguarded moment, his face took on a look of such longing. She quickly followed his gaze as it came to rest on Elizabeth laughing as she stood among a group of people. Margaret drew closer, hearing him murmur in that strange language of his, "Namarie, tithen aiwe." He said no more and walked on. Her previous amusement had disappeared completely and a new feeling of disquiet came over her.  "What is in your mind, my friend," she wondered.
 

- O -

Maedhros finished the note to Lady Margaret and placed it on the chair with the one he had written to Elizabeth. It had taken him most of the night to finish them.  To Elizabeth he wrote he was restless and needed to explore his new world. Maybe by doing so, he would find the answers he still sought. The shimmer did not hold these answers and though he was sorry to leave in such a hurry, he was compelled to go quickly for he hated long good-byes. He thanked her for all she had done for him. Maedhros knew the letter did not say half the things he wanted to say. But he could not confess his feelings to her and then disappear.  Better that she think he was in pursuit of something akin to the truth.

The letter to Lady Margaret was equally as hard. He found it impossible to tell her how much her generosity of heart and quick acceptance meant to him. He wrote the same lies to her about seeking knowledge, but knew she would see through them. He also knew that if she wanted to protect her daughter, she would make Elizabeth believe them. 

 
After sheathing his sword, he bent down and picked up the pack containing his meager possessions. He stood before the Shimmer for the last time. A vista of magnificent mountains whirled by. The air was crisp and the sun in the clear sapphire sky reflected its golden brilliance off the pristine snow pack covering the mountain tops. Maedhros' sigh echoed in the cave room; it was as if the Shimmer was agreeing with his decision to leave.
 
"What are you doing?"  A small voice inquired from behind him. "Are you…leaving?"
 
Maedhros grimaced before he turned to face Elizabeth. He should have been long gone by now.  Why had he tarried? His heart ached as he looked at her standing in the doorway of the cave room. She wasn't a frightened little girl anymore; sparks of anger were shining in her hazel eyes as she looked around the nearly empty room.  Her lips pressed into a single line as her gaze settled on the pack slung on his shoulder. "You are leaving!" She accused.
 
Maedhros looked at the rock floor. "I thought it best to do so quietly."
 
"You thought that, did you?"  She walked up and stood before him, her very gaze demanding more answers. Though she was at her full height, she reached no higher than his heart. Maedhros forced himself to look directly into her face. "As I said, I thought it best." The words rang untrue, even to him.  Elizabeth said nothing, she only continued to look at him.  "I…I just…" Maedhros closed his eyes in frustration. Facing her like this, made it impossible for him to lie. He opened his eyes and put the pack on the ground. He placed his hand on her slender shoulder. "I have to leave Elizabeth.  For your own happiness, you must let me go."
 
Her anger quickly disappeared as tears began to fill her eyes. She gripped his forearms. "For my happiness? Why? What has happened to make you do this? Has my mother…"
 
"No. No. Your mother does not know I am leaving. The truth is, tithen aiwe, you have grown up and I can no longer be a part of your life." The words drove shards of ice into his chest.
 
"But why? I do not understand." She tried to control the sobs growing in her throat. "Why?" Distress creased her brow as she fought to remain calm.
 
"Listen to me. I must not keep you from the life you were destined to have." Maedhros own anguish was growing as he watched the disbelief grow on Elizabeth face.
 
"Maedhros, I have no life without you." She began to sob. "You are meant to be here…always."
 
Maedhros tried to smile. "I am meant to be only a story you tell your children and your grandchildren. That once, when you were very young, you knew an Elf lord who was sent to your world as a punishment." His hand brushed her smooth cheek. "But instead, he found a happiness that was more than he deserved."  Tears began to cloud his vision as his hand continued to caress the side of her face. The feel of her skin on his fingertips was like the softest velvet.  Maedhros smiled sadly. "And I…I will always remember the little bird who saved my life." He lowered his mouth and tenderly kissed her brow, then laid his forehead against hers. "I must go Elizabeth." His voice was barely audible.
 
Elizabeth stepped back. "No! You must not!" She pleaded as her small hands continued to cling to him, in an attempt to keep him there. "Why?"
 
"Please understand.  I can not stand by and watch as you…" Maedhros looked away; he could not say the words.
 
Elizabeth began to feel her anger rise again, her body steeled itself with it. "You are making no sense. I am not going to let you go until you tell me why you are really leaving." She set her jaw as she stared back at him. "I am not moving until I get the truth out of you." She was determined to accept nothing less.
 
Maedhros emotions boiled to the surface. "You want the truth," his voice grew louder. "I watched you flirting with that boy tonight.  I realized you are a grown woman and our time together has to end." He tried to stop shaking.
 
Maedhros read the surprise in her eyes. "That boy? That boy means nothing to me."  She shouted back. "What has this to do with your leaving?"
 
"I am not made of stone, Elizabeth. One day you will marry, and I will not watch you become another's wife." His breathing became shallow as he fought the pain of his breaking heart. "I could not bear it." His voice had softened; each word was filled with sorrow.
 
Elizabeth began to cry, though she still held him fast. "How could I ever marry another?" She said as tears streamed down her face. She swallowed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Summoning all her courage she looked up at Maedhros. "I am in love with you…you big fool of an Elf." 
 
Maedhros' eyes widened as he listened to her. "Do you know what you are saying melethen," he asked.
 
Elizabeth slowly nodded her head. "I think I have always been in love with you."  Her small voice was a silver bell ringing with each glorious word. Maedhros could hear his own heart begin to sing. Maedhros was suddenly happier than he could ever remember.
 
"And I would have been a great fool not to love you." With that declaration, Maedhros lowered his head and kissed her.  Far from being surprised, Elizabeth lifted her arms up and curled them around his neck. Maedhros wove his arms around her slender waist and drew her closer to him. It was a long sweet kiss, a kiss of great promise. They began to laugh as they broke the kiss. "What a pair of fools we are," he said and laid his cheek on top of her head as he continued to hold her in his arms.
 
Miracle of miracles, she loved him! Holding her like this, he knew that nothing was truer than that. Maedhros finally understood. This is what made those others willing to deify everything and everyone to be together. Such happiness could only be found…together.
 
Maedhros straightened slightly and taking Elizabeth's hand, placed it over his heart. He looked into her loving eyes and smiled. "I stand before you a banished lord of the Noldor. I come to you with nothing but my heart and an eternity of love to give you. Be my wife, tithen aiwe, and forever sing me your sweet song?" 
 
"Oh yes!" Elizabeth smiled broadly as she gladly stepped into his arms and kissed him again.
 
To Be Continued Chapter 7 Part 2 – A Distant Song

Chapter Text

Ailsa patiently watched Maedhros standing wordlessly as he faced the passage doorway. She assumed he was lost within a particular memory. She gave him a few moments more and then decided to prompt him. "What happened after her birthday," she asked.

Maedhros cleared his throat, "We found that our feelings went far beyond friendship and we married at the end of summer."  He abruptly stopped his narration there. Turning his head, he found Ailsa had moved from her seat and was sitting on the edge of the desk. There was an amused look on her face.

"Well, that was a short but lovely ending." She smiled as she realized Maedhros would keep the details to himself and that was fine with her. She heard the emotion in his voice as he talked about Elizabeth. Ailsa didn't need to know anymore. "I'm so glad you shared her with me. She sounds very special."

"And irreplaceable." Maedhros added as he walked over to the desk and looked down at the book.

"Indeed," Ailsa answered with one of his favorite words.

Suppressing a smile, Maedhros closed the book and lifted it effortlessly.  "Allow me to put this back and then we can have some tea." 

"That sounds like a plan. I'll check to see if dad is ready for a cup." She said and rushed down the passage.

As he placed the book back on the shelf, Maedhros listened to Ailsa's echoing footsteps in the passage. After a moment, he exhaled a long sigh. How familiar they sounded.

- O -

Down in the Archives after breakfast the next morning, Ailsa busied herself on the computer as Maedhros proofed some pages she had just printed out.  It was a description of the making of the Silmarilli.

Ailsa examined the three dimensional drawing of the Silmaril using the lasted graphic software she downloaded.  She had just added illumination to the jewel and the screen was filled with its pulsating light. Resting her hands on the keyboard, she scrutinized her work.  Although it only represented a mere copy of the beautiful original, it was still fascinating to watch. She couldn't help touching the screen with her fingertips. Seems the Silmarilli would always be attractive to everyone except one. "I've noticed you don't handle the Sil…" Ailsa began, but stopped when Maedhros turned abruptly and looked at her with a well arched eyebrow. "The Sil," he asked imperiously.

"Well, Silmaril is quite a mouthful. Besides, we Americans tend to like nicknames." She shrugged her shoulders as if she couldn't help herself.

"Indeed." He replied with a small smile and returned to his reading.

"But seriously, why don't you touch the Sil…even with a cloth or anything? It can't be because you're afraid of the family weakness. You have more control than anyone I've ever known." 

Without raising his eyes from the pages in his hand, he answered. "No, that is not it. I do not hold the Silmaril because it will burn my flesh faster than it would your hand even with protection.  The unforgiven suffer the burning more…because of our unworthiness."  He said flatly.

Ailsa thought for a moment. "When was the last time you actually held it?" 

Maedhros let out a heavy sigh. "I last touched the Silmaril with a piece of soft leather when I put it into the pouch Elizabeth gave me. Even then my fingers were blistered by it. I have only touched the strings of the pouch since." His voice was beginning to sound impatient.

"There you see?" She announced.

"See what?" Ailsa had his full attention now.

"Listen Maedhros, since dad figured out the truth about the relationship between our worlds, I've been thinking.  Maybe there's a reason you've been given this information…at this particular time." She watched Maedhros' face and recognized the disbelief in his eyes.  "Maybe this is a sign. Besides, what better way to find out how things stand with the Valar and you."

"I can not believe what you are saying," he said. "Yes, it is a sign. It is a sign that my punishment is far from being over and no amount of holding the Silmaril is going to change that. Ailsa, I do not want to talk about this anymore." 

She opened her mouth to continue, but Maedhros raised his hand, gesturing her to stop. He walked over to the stairwell and began to climb up to the library.  Ailsa, however, was determined to finish their conversation, she followed him.

"You just assume that's what it means."  She called after him. "How can you ever find peace if you continue to keep yourself in limbo?"

Maedhros reached the top and spun around to face her. "I only know that if I was to be given a sign….it would have come long ago."

"But what if you've ignored the signs?"  Ailsa tried to reason.

As he stood listening to Ailsa; he dared not even consider what Ailsa was saying. She is wrong! Without another word, he abruptly turned and left the library as Ailsa reached the top of the stairs. She could only stand in the doorway of the open bookcase watching him exit into the hall.

"What was all that about?" The question came from above.  Ailsa immediately looked up to find her father sitting on the top step of the moveable spiral staircase, an open book in his hands and a quizzical look on his face as he peered over his glasses.

"Elves can be so damn frustrating." Ailsa spoke loudly in the hope Maedhros would hear her in the hall. "And they're obstinate too."

Ewan chuckled. "Are you just finding that out?"

"He's suffered for so long, I just want to help him." The irritation in Ailsa's face began to slowly change into a wry smile. "If he'd only listen."

"To what, my sweet daughter?" Ewan began to carefully make his way down the steps.

Ailsa had walked over to the windows and stood with her face toward the sunlight. "To the possibility that he could finally find some peace. That he could start forgiving himself."

"Oh and are you the one to enlighten him as to how this is to occur?" Ewan asked as he took the final step onto the library floor. 

"Well, no. I mean…"  She bowed her head and looked at the cushions in front of her. "I just wanted him to entertain the idea that when you figured out the truth about Middle-earth, it was meant to happen. Now, he's refusing to even consider trying to touch the Silmaril."

Ewan began to stroke his chin. "Let me get this straight.  He's to handle the one thing that still tries to consume him and can easily burn his hand to a cinder. You want him to ignore these things just to prove you're right?" Although he spoke sarcastically, there was an underlining feel of chastisement in his words.

Ailsa slowly faced her father. "Well, when you put it that way…" There was a sheepish look on her face. "I really was just thinking of him."

"I know you mean well, sweetie. But you're never going to convince Maedhros about the Silmaril. There is no way he'll ever touch it."

"You're probably right." Ailsa reluctantly admitted. Their conversation was over; she folded her arms across her chest and returned her attention to the view outside the window.  Ewan shook his head and with book in hand, walked toward the open bookcase and down the stairs to the Archives. The library quickly fell silent except for the light tapping of Ailsa's foot on the hardwood floor. "Absolutely right."

- O -

Maedhros quietly joined Ailsa and Ewan for dinner that night.  Ailsa acted as if nothing had happened.  She talked with Ewan about a particularly interesting document he had found in the Archives that contained some wonderful information about surrounding land grants.  Maedhros concentrated on the half-eaten dinner before him. Through the thick haze of his thoughts, he became aware of Ailsa's asking him something.  "I am sorry Ailsa.  Did you say something?"

Ailsa smiled at him indulgently.  "I was saying that I hoped you felt up to a walk after dinner.  I was hoping that we'd continue walking even though the evenings are getting colder."

Maedhros smiled back. "Of course we will. I look forward to our walks." He was glad Ailsa had decided to forget their earlier conversation.

"Good, I'll meet you in the hall in fifteen minutes."  She quickly got up and left the room.

Ewan chuckled.  "Ah youth…" Maedhros couldn't help but smile at the irony of Ewan's statement.

True to her word, Maedhros found Ailsa walking into the hall from the library precisely fifteen minutes later.  She was ready for the colder weather wearing a warm jacket, a long woolen scarf, and leather gloves.  When she saw Maedhros, she stopped. "Don't you even want gloves or something?" She asked after seeing that he wore his usual suit and nothing resembling a coat or scarf.  She offered him her long neck scarf. 

He smiled at her offer.  "No thank you, Ailsa, I will be fine. Elves are not subject to the same laws of heat and cold as mortals. But I appreciate your concern."  He ushered her out the door into the chilly air.  Once outside, he asked, "Where should we walk tonight?"

"Let's go down the cliff to the beach." There was excitement in her eyes as she spoke.

As they walked, they made small talk.  They discussed the next section of work they would start working on, they talked about finding a stable for Ailsa to start riding again, and they even talked about taking little trips to various historical sights in the spring. Maedhros smiled while Ailsa chattered away, her hands tucked deep into the pockets of her warm jacket. But with all the talking, he still felt she had something else on her mind.  Maedhros couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew she would get around to it eventually…she always did.

From the cliff they could see the tide was out and how much bigger the beach seemed to be. Ailsa rushed down the path to the soft white sand. As she waited for Maedhros to join her, she noticed even the roar of the surf seemed muffled.  Farther out in the water, the great rock arches stood like giants stepping out of the sea on their way to the waiting shore. Great waves of sea water exploded around their "legs."

Ailsa and Maedhros stood silently watching the sun slowly slide behind the curve of the world. Gusts of wind came from inland and blew through their hair and whipped around their bodies. The wind suddenly shifted and began blowing off the water. It felt good against their faces.

Maedhros depended on these times with Ailsa. Sharing the sunset with her had become a ritual and something he looked forward to each evening. Any reservations about his feelings for Ewan and Ailsa were long gone. They filled him with a contentment that could very well be the beginning of the peace they talked about. He knew they were a family and though they may disagree from time to time like any family, their affection was unconditional.  He also knew they were dearer to him than his own life.

He breathed in the salty air and it calmed him even more.  He was happy and as he looked at Ailsa, knew she was happy too. With the changing of the tide, they decided it was time to climb back up to the cliff top.  Ailsa was always astonished how well Maedhros could see in the dim light.  She knew she could safely follow him as he made his way unerringly up the path.  Once at the top, they watched the stars blink in the sky.  Without city lights to obscure them, the night sky was cluttered with stars: far more stars than she had ever seen in the California night.  But even this couldn't keep her from what she needed to do.  She bit her lip trying to summon up her courage.  "Maedhros?"

"Yes." His head was tilted back looking at the various clusters of stars, his long hair trailing down his back. His eyes rested on one particularly star. Even in the great ocean of the sky, the Star of Earendil shone brighter than the rest.

"We didn't really finish our conversation this afternoon." There. She waited for his reaction.

"I did not think we had any more to say."  Maedhros said absently.

"I think you were missing an important point."  She tried to steady the tremble in her voice. This could go very wrong if she didn't say it just right.  She purposely moved slowly toward the entrance into the woods. Thankfully, Maedhros followed her.

 "How do you know for sure that you're not forgiven?" She asked knowing she was treading on dangerous ground. 

Maedhros stared at her, incredulous.  How could she make him go through this again? With infinitely controlled patience, he would say it one more time so they could put it behind them…forever.  "I am banished; I can no longer hold the Silmaril. I am doomed to watch visions of my world through the Shimmer."  There was a cold edge to his voice. He slowly breathed in and let out an audible sigh.  "There has been no indication of anyone, anywhere acknowledging my existence."

"I think that you're looking at this on too big a scale. You're probably expecting a great thundering biblical voice to make the skies open and bathe you in a golden light of some kind.  Many times, signs are very subtle. Messages can be whispered."  She turned and walked away from him.

"What do you mean?"  He asked impatiently as he watched her walk away, her hands still in her pockets.  Ailsa was obviously nervous and couldn't stand still.

Suddenly, Ailsa whirled around and shouted, "Hey Maedhros!  Catch!" and threw something with all her might at his face. His hand instinctively came up and caught the object Ailsa threw.  His eyes grew wide in horror as he recognized the Silmaril in his hand. Its brilliant pulsating light lit the cliff top. "Aaaaah!" He yelled and automatically dropped it on the ground. 

"Oh no!" Ailsa cried and ran over to him quickly grabbing his hand to access the damage. Bathed in the light of the Silmaril, two pairs of eyes locked.  Maedhros couldn't make sense of what he was seeing.  His palm was untouched, not even a little red.  He had felt no burning, but thought it was the shock of having the Silmaril in his hand once more.  He looked at his hand again…it was unharmed! 

Slowly a voice began to sing in his head. Pure and clear as the starlight above him, unearthly in its beauty. He knew it like his own voice.  It sang a harmony so old, it was almost at the edge of his memory.  Too painful to remember, he had simply made himself forget. His eyes began to glaze over as he strained to listen to the voice. Ailsa, oblivious to his distraction, still held his hand.  "Oh my God, Maedhros.  Do you know what this means?" She said excitedly.  She looked at his face and froze.  Maedhros stood there, his eyes half closed.  "Maedhros, can you hear me?" 

- O -

At that moment, on a deserted beach on the Isle of Man, a tall lean figure stood on top of the rock he had been sitting on. Brushing a wind swept strand of long dark hair from his face, he scanned the horizon straining to listen above the roar of the incoming tide. Bending down he seized the canvas bag of shells he gathered earlier and swung it around his head several times. With an ancient cry of joy, he threw it far out into the sea. As the bag sank below the waves, he slowly closed his bright grey eyes. The smallest hint of a smile appeared on his lips as he began to sing.

- O -

Ailsa began to feel panicked.  "Maedhros?" She grabbed his arm with both her hands and gently shook him. "Maedhros can you hear me?" She called.  Quickly stripping her gloves off, she took his face in her hands forcing him to look at her.  She hoped her touch would help bring him out of whatever stupor he was experiencing.  His eyes stared vacantly at her; his rapid breathing frightened her.  "Maedhros, forgive me. I didn't know…Maedhros?"

His eyes regained their focus, and his breathing began to slow down.  He awkwardly stepped back, out of her hands.  He looked startled, as if just realizing where he was.  "Are you all right?" Ailsa asked, watching his every move.

"I hear a harmony that was silenced to me long ago."

"What harmony…whose harmony," she asked.

Maedhros face reflected wondrous light. "I am almost afraid to say."

His eyes locked onto the Silmaril as it lay shining in the scruffy dune grass.  He bent down and began to pick it up. "NO!" Ailsa yelled as he closed his fingers around it.  He slowly straightened and opened his hand.  "There is no pain." He said as he stared at it with a blend of fear and awe.  He quickly closed his fingers around it again and looked at Ailsa.  "It does not burn," he laughed.

Ailsa's concern and fear fell away and was replaced with hope.  "Do you know what this means?" She asked.

"I do not." He truthfully answered.  He tilted his head back and locking his eyes on a particular bright star, started to murmur a prayer.  Ailsa watched as tears fell down the sides of his face. "By the will of the Valar, please, let this be the sign I have longed for." He quietly prayed as his voice faded to a hushed stillness.

Time seemed to stand still as Ailsa looked around expecting some event to take place.  After a long while, her expectation was replaced with disappointment.  She reluctantly had to admit that nothing was going to happen. 

Maedhros stood with his head now bowed, his arms crossed on his chest, the Silmaril still held tightly in his hand.  He seemed to be in deep reflection.  She gently touched his arm. "Maedhros." It was a confirmation more than a question.  He looked at her and slowly shook his head, his face a contradiction of expectation and doubt.  He opened his mouth to say something, but instead turned silently and walked quickly into the woods.

Ailsa stood there for a moment trying to figure out just what had happened.  She was happy he could hold the Silmaril again.  But did it mean he was forgiven, or had her folly added to his punishment? She didn't know if the night had suddenly gotten colder or if her feeling of failure was the reason for the chill around her heart.  "I am so stupid." She chided herself.  What did she think was going to happen?  She sighed as she stooped to pick up her gloves and quickly put them on.  She looked around one more time, and finally re-entered the woods. She was desolate as she walked through the woods.  How much more pain had she added to Maedhros' already full plate?

Her legs seemed heavy as she walked along trying to figure out how she was ever going to get him to forgive her foolishness. The air grew colder and she wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck.  Suddenly, she became aware of a faint sound stirring among the trees. Ailsa stopped and listened.  It echoed deep within the thick woods.  It was Maedhros…he was singing.  His extraordinary voice cut the cold night air with its simplicity. She could just make out some of the words as they floated on the night breeze.  He was singing a song to the Valar, something about hope and grief.  Ailsa groaned at the thought of Maedhros sitting alone in the clearing trying to sing some comfort for himself after her boneheaded attempt to help. The least she could do was leave him alone.  She walked into the garden with Maedhros' voice still echoing behind her.

- O -

For the next several days Ailsa hardly saw Maedhros.  When she did, it was only in passing.  She'd catch a glimpse of him on his balcony or leaving the library.  He didn't join them at mealtime nor did he join her for their evening walks.  In fact, he now walked alone at odd times of the day and night.  When she tried to talk to him, he was courteous, but distant.  He would quickly change the subject when she tried to talk about what happened that night and she finally realized that he was purposely pulling back from her.  The sudden gulf between them only fed her guilt.

She felt somehow it was her duty to set things right, make amends.  She was beginning her shift with the shimmer one night and walked in on him as he was replacing the Silmaril in the chest.  She knew this would be her best chance to talk to him.  "I hope I didn't startle you." She confessed.

"I heard you long before you entered the room, Ailsa." Maedhros didn't turn as he spoke.  He voice was very controlled, and the matter of fact quality of it made her feel empty.

"Listen, I'm sorry about the other night. I didn't mean to add to your suffering…I only wanted to help."  She couldn't keep the sadness from her voice.

Maedhros finally turned and met her gaze.  Ailsa searched for any sign that he didn't hate her for what she did.  His cool grey eyes, although they were looking at her, were far away…unreadable.  Finally, his face softened.  "You did help tithen min. I now have reason to hope."  His mouth held the suggestion of a smile. 

"Really?" Her whole body sighed with relief. "I thought you were mad at me…," she said. "You have every right to be….I mean, what a dumbass thing for me to do."  She felt better letting him know how badly she felt.

Maedhros took the two steps that separated them and raised his hand to her face. "Your actions may have been a little rash, but your intentions were honorable." He assured her.

"I just knew that I'd added to your suffering and that's why you've been keeping to yourself lately." 

His hand lowered to her shoulder and held it firmly, his face looked troubled.  "No…no, I have been dealing with this new sensation. Being able to hold the Silmaril once more and hearing what was once lost to me, has rekindled hope in my heart."  He looked away for a moment, as if trying to control some emotion. "My only fear is that it may be a false hope. And you can not help me with that." 

Ailsa reached up and covered his hand with her own. "Okay…" She smiled weakly.

Maedhros squeezed her shoulder and walked out of the room leaving Ailsa to her work.  As he walked down the passageway, his thoughts were a swirling storm in his head.  How could he explain to Ailsa what he could not explain to himself?  The Song of Ilúvatar that sang in every Elf's soul had been diminished to a whisper of a memory since he had been cast into this world.  With the touch of the Silmaril, it was now strong, but another song had joined it.  Mingling and weaving in and out of its melody, this new voice caressed his soul with its familiarity. Could it truly have been the lone voice of his brother Maglor's Fea?  Was Maglor alive?  Did Maglor know of his true fate?   

Question upon question, Maedhros' mind worked endlessly over these questions.  His frustration grew as they continually circled back to nothing: no information, no solutions, and no answers forthcoming, no matter how he analyzed it.  Even Ailsa's willingness to help could not afford him any answers.  How could he make her understand that when he held the Silmaril once more, he was filled with such hope that he dared not let go of it?  The sense of expectation that had filled his heart in those first moments had slowly faded into disappointment.  Nothing had happened in these many days since the night on the cliff. What if he had wasted all this time believing he could not touch it?  "Everything I have based my whole existence on could be wrong."  He anguished over the next question. "What do I do now?"

Ailsa knew that during the day, Maedhros roamed aimlessly around the house and grounds like a ghost.  Nights he spent staring, unblinking, into the Western horizon.  The cool night air would often carry the soft words of his songs to her room. Once and a while he would half-heartedly work with her or her father on one of the histories. Whatever he was trying to figure out, it was always at the forefront of all his thoughts.  It was clear that the staff had noticed his odd behavior. Mrs. Whitehall sought a word with Ailsa one afternoon while she was working in the library.

They set up a laptop computer in the library so Ailsa and Ewan wouldn't have to wait for each other to use the one computer in the Archives.  She had put a network connection on her laptop to access various websites that were needed for their research.  She also found it was easier to send emails than try to reach Kyle or her mother by phone. 

Mrs. Whitehall stood in the doorway lightly tapping on the big door of the library, trying to get Ailsa's attention.  Ailsa looked up from her typing and smiled.  "Hi."  She said, happy to see the housekeeper.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you Miss Ailsa, but I really need to speak with you." Mrs. Whitehall's face held little of the pleasant humor that was normally present.  There was real concern in her eyes. Ailsa noticed for the first time how intensely blue Mrs. Whitehall's eyes were.

"Sure…" Ailsa stood up and walked over to the overstuffed leather sofa and offered Mrs. Whitehall a seat.  "What is it?"  She asked as she deposited herself at one end of the sofa, tossing a throw pillow out of the way.

The older woman sat down, folded her hands on her lap, and let out a sigh.  She obviously was having difficulty putting something into words.  Finally, she looked at Ailsa and spoke. "I'm concerned about Maedhros. There seems to be something wrong with him…" She let the words trail off, hoping Ailsa would jump in with a confirmation of her fears.

"Yes?"  Ailsa tried to act as if this was something she didn't know.

"I know it's not part of my job, but I do worry about him.  He's not been himself for several days now.  He wanders the halls at the oddest times, moving about like a shadow. The mister says he walked off in the middle of a conversation today.  Sometimes I see him just standing on his balcony.  In the kitchen I can hear him singing and all up there. It's lovely, but… he's not eating either. Not a bite, not even my berry cobbler.  And not to be bragging, but you know how much he likes my cobbler!  He barely even takes his tea!"  She took a gulp of breath and continued, "And I know he's not sleeping either. Why do you know his bed has not been slept in at all these many days?"  Ailsa watched Mrs. Whitehall's face as she spoke, and wondered if Maedhros really knew how much people cared about him. 

"I know that he's had to deal with some personal problems lately." She decided she should try to reassure her.  "I'll have a talk with him.  He can't be neglecting his health and worrying people around him."

"Thank you Miss, I thought you'd be the right person to talk to."  Ailsa could see that the older woman was quite relieved.  "I mean your father is almost as bad.  Oh, he's a good eater when he finally comes to the table, but he works much too hard down there with those books.  What he really needs is some fresh air, if you ask me."  Shaking her head at the foolishness of males, Mrs. Whitehall got up, her mission accomplished.  At least the girl had some good sense.  "I'll leave you to your work now, Miss."  And she walked to the door.  Ailsa suddenly had an idea and called after her.  "Mrs. Whitehall?" 

"Yes?"

"Have your ever had Mexican food?" She asked.

"No, but I hear it is quite…lovely."  Mrs. Whitehall looked skeptical.

"I've got a great idea." She said as she got up and walked to the housekeeper.  "I can't compare to your cooking, but I make killer chicken Fajitas. I even make homemade tortillas. You won't have to do a thing. I'll even clean up. I'll tell Maedhros and my father that I'm making a special dinner and they have to attend."  She smiled, loving the conspiracy of it all.

Mrs. Whitehall's eyes lit up. "Something different to entice him.  That sounds like just the thing."

Ailsa began to think about all the things she would need.  "I'll have to enlist your help getting the ingredients I'll need."  She smiled to herself as she wondered if cilantro and jalapenos were readily available in the village.

"Count on me. Just give me a list and a couple of days."  The twinkle was back in her china-blue eyes.

"Great.  I'll make up the list and give it to you right away."  Ailsa returned to the desk and pulled out a pad of paper and hurriedly listed everything she would need.  She figured that since it was Tuesday, she could plan on the dinner for Friday. A perfect beginning for the weekend.  In the meantime, she would see if she could make sure the men in her family ate a little better between now and then.  And of course, she would have to get some Tequila…what was a Mexican dinner without Margaritas? 

She gave the list to Mrs. Whitehall and was glad when the housekeeper indicated that she could get everything on it.  Ailsa decided to let Maedhros and her father know about the dinner right away.  She found them in the Archives; both of them bent over a scroll in deep discussion.  They both looked up when they heard Ailsa bound down the stairs.  She cleared her throat and announced, "Don't make any plans for Friday night.  I'm inviting you to a homemade chicken Fajita dinner made by yours truly." She curtseyed slightly to both men. She then pointed directly at Maedhros and declared, "And you…you will learn to make the perfect Margarita."

"I will?" Maedhros asked as one eyebrow rose.

"Yes, you will."  Ailsa stated adamantly.

Her father nudged Maedhros' arm. "Go with it Maedhros." He said eyeing him intently. "It's easier than arguing."

Ailsa didn't wait for a reply.  She returned to the library and resumed her search on the web.  She did smile to herself occasionally throughout the afternoon.  A real family dinner party sounded great.

About mid-afternoon she heard her father call her excitedly from the Archives. "Ailsa, come down….hurry.  You've got to see this," he shouted up the stairwell.  She knew it wasn't anything they found in the Archives; it had to be the Shimmer.  She rushed down the stairs and through the passageway.  She found Maedhros standing on one side of the Shimmer. He watched it intently, arms folded across his chest, a hand on his chin. Her father was on the other side of the pool talking quickly into the recorder in his hand.  She walked to the pool, her eyes glued to the dark scene in the mist. 

It was night; the sounds of battle roared in the darkness. There was a great flash of lightening and suddenly a fortress built at the base a mountain appeared. Another flash and the gorge located below great snow-capped mountains filled with a black wave of twisted creatures armed with swords and spears rushing towards the fortress. Growling thunder rolled far above the battle, but even that great noise did little to silence the foul calls and screams of rage from the dark skinned creatures and their wild looking human companions as they moved ever forward with their attack. There were short gnarled things carrying long ladders and crude wooden catapults were being pushed along with the frenzied army. Rain began to fall in long heavy drops. Each flash of lightening illuminated some new horror.

Ailsa tried to look away. The deafening sounds of battle were frightening. What frightened her most was her ability to hear it all so very loud and clear from the Shimmer. Looking at her father, she asked.  "How long has this been going on?"

Ewan turned, his face was full of excitement. "Isn't this great?  It's the longest sequence yet. Seems to be some huge battle between men in the fortress and these things." He said absently pointing to the Shimmer.  "Maedhros says the smaller ones are called Orcs."

"The increased sound began with this sequence." She heard Maedhros clear voice over her shoulder.  He knew what she had meant.

Ewan drew their attention back to the Shimmer.  "Look, there he is again."  Ailsa turned to see what he was talking about. 

Through the lightening flashes, they could see the black forces swarming closer to the walls. There was a broad stairway climbing from the floor of the gorge to the top of the battlements and the gate leading into the fortress.  There was a man standing at the bottom of the stairs, a long sword in his hand urging soldiers up the stairway to the slowly closing gates. At the top of the stairs, an Elf knelt ready with his bow and nocked arrow. Ailsa tried to see through the rain and the flashes of lightening, but he seemed to be the only Elf participating in the battle. Another flash and the determined Elf's face was visible. Even in the pouring rain, his face battle smudged and wet, Ailsa recognized him. It was her Elf. 

She could tell by the way he aimed his bow, he was protecting the man at the bottom of the staircase. She began to worry as she realized his quiver was empty and he had only the one arrow.  The Elf called to the man, but his words were obscured by a blast of thunder.  Then she heard him yell, "Telo!"  The man must have been exhausted from the fighting because he turned and ran up the stairs only to stumble half way up.  The Orcs ran after him, trying to reach him before he got up.  One of the ugly things reached out to grab the man's leg only to fall back with the Elf's arrow in his throat.  The other Orcs just jumped over the dead body of their comrade, bent on getting to the man.  Before the Orcs could reach the top of the stairway, a giant boulder was dropped from the wall and smashed into them sending them back down to the floor of the gorge.  The man and Elf made it to the nearly closed gates and safety.

 "My God, this is good."  Ewan said admiringly.

Ailsa tried to remember to breathe again.  When she saw the creatures climbing up the steps after the man, she thought her heart would stop when she realized the Elf had only one arrow.  Had she seen other weapons on him, she couldn't remember.  Even with a sword or dagger, there were far too many of those foul things to be of any use. 

The vision abruptly faded and moved on to a rather peaceful scene of grain harvesting.  "No…" Ailsa said under her breath.  She needed to know what happened.  Which side won?  She was still mystified as to why she cared.  She noticed that her father was also disappointed when the scene changed. "Damn!" Ewan said and turned. "Just when it was getting exciting," He muttered as he left the room. Ailsa chuckled at her father's boyish response. Then there was Maedhros.  She glanced over at the silent Elf. 

His ears were still filled with the echoes of the battle they'd just witnessed.  A battle not unlike many he himself had fought.  It was not the exciting adventure it seemed to Ewan.  It was life and death at their most raw, most desperate, and he found no joy in witnessing it.

She watched him as his attention was still fixed on the Shimmer.  Evidently the harvesting of wheat was a special interest of his, or was he thinking of something else?  "Interesting stuff, eh?" She asked half jokingly.

"Yes, I find the fact that I can hear their conversations from here to be most interesting." His voice was laced with sarcasm.  Ailsa turned her attention back to the Shimmer and the harvesting. It was surprising to hear the gossipy conversations of the men and women in the sea of yellow wheat.  She could also hear the wind as it made the heavy heads of the wheat shafts sway back and forth.  Normally, this would be a pleasant thing to watch and hear, but considering where she was and what she was watching; it took on a strangeness that made her feel uncomfortable.  "Why is the Shimmer changing like this?" She finally asked. 

"It has never done this before.  Never." Maedhros said intensely, more to himself than to Ailsa.

"The really scary part of all this is the way the sound keeps getting louder. Why?"  She pondered.   

"It gives an impression that it is building up to something."  Maedhros gestured with his hand.

"Well, whatever it's up to, I wish it would get on with it."  Ailsa sighed. "This 'a little of this' and 'a little of that' is frankly becoming just a little boring."

Maedhros gave her a sidelong glance.  "I think you need to realize that something has been put into motion that could be affecting these visions."  His brows came together in a frown. "And it may not be a good thing."

"Or the glass could be half full?" Ailsa smiled trying to lighten the mood. "Really, Maedhros, it could be a wonderful thing that we can hear their voices in the visions now, it'll make our work so much easier.  We'll be able to find out the names of places and the identity of all the people we've been watching."

Sighing heavily, Maedhros closed his eyes and gently shook his head from side to side. He then raised his hand in submission.  "I surrender. I can not fight your reasoning today. My mind is too full of other things to even try." 

"Well then, since it's still light out, I'd like to ask you to join me for a very short walk." She asked, hoping he would consent. "And then we can sit down and have a nice dinner." That was the only way she would be sure he would eat something. She'd make sure her father was there as well. 

"Why not." Maedhros consented, resigned to his fate.

Ailsa was very proud of the way she had maneuvered the two males in her family into joining her for dinner that night.  Mrs. Whitehall made a hearty soup, including a wonderful fall salad with walnuts and apples mixed in with the various local greens and even some of her father's favorite whole-wheat rolls fresh from the oven.  There was also an apple pie for dessert.

After dinner, they sat in the dining hall with their coffee and tea talking about…nothing really.  Just little stories told by Ailsa and Ewan to embarrass each other in front of Maedhros. He even chuckled once or twice at some silly thing either Ailsa or her father had done.  It turned out to be a typical night at the dinner table of the world's most unusual family.

Finally, Ewan yawned behind his hand.  "Well, I'm going to make it an early night for once."  Wiping his mouth with his napkin, he stood up and pushed his chair back.  Putting his arm across his chest as he had seen Maedhros do as a salute, he bowed and wished them both, "Good night all. Ir abarad."

"Post vaer Ewan" Maedhros bowed his head in reply.

"'Night Dad," Ailsa smiled.

Ailsa finished her coffee and started to think of bed herself.  Maedhros was finishing his tea, but a moment later he instantly froze.  He dropped the cup on the saucer breaking them both and startling Ailsa.  He stood, his eyes frantically searching the room as if he was expecting to see someone. 

"Maedhros?  What is it?" She quickly asked.

"Can you not hear it?"  Maedhros replied.  "It fills the room."

Ailsa looked around the room straining to hear what had caused him to react so. Maedhros rushed out of the room. "Where are you going?" She called after him. Deciding to follow him, she grabbed her jacket and ran through the kitchen to the back of the house hoping to catch up with him. As she reached the garden, she caught only a glimpse of his back as he entered the woods. 

Half way down the stairs she suddenly heard singing and stopped. Such a voice! Not even Maedhros could come close to the utter holiness of it.  It was all magic and beauty, filling her very soul with its sound.  She had to find out who belonged to that voice. Sprinting down the rest of the stairs, she leaped over the last two steps, and ran into the woods.  Ailsa raced breathlessly through the trees praying she wouldn't trip with only the waning moon as her guide. Maedhros was too far ahead to be seen, but she knew he was on his way to the cliff.  There was no doubt; it was there she would also find the singer.

Finally breaking through the trees, she stood in the pale moonlight and glanced up and down the empty coastline. The singing abruptly stopped. There was only one other place the voice could have come from. She walked to the edge of the cliff and saw Maedhros rushing down the path to the beach.  On the beach, a boat had been pulled up on the dry sand and a tall man stood watching Maedhros' descent.

Maedhros couldn't run fast enough. When he first heard the singing in the dining room, he thought the madness had come back to him.  But then he realized the song did not resonate in his mind alone, but in his ears as well.  Ailsa apparently had not heard, but to him its sound was as clear as the purest notes of a silver flute, beckoning him to follow its call. 

He nearly soared from the cliff top when he saw the figure dragging the boat onto the beach.  He had not called out, still afraid he was wrong and that it was some tormenting waking dream he was forced to endure. The singing stopped and the singer stood expectantly as Maedhros made his way down the path.  Maedhros jumped the last few feet onto the beach and stood there for a moment.

He still looked the way Maedhros remembered him. Tall and slender, with eyes the identical shade of grey as his own.  Maedhros could not see much more as tears of joy obscured his vision. He felt his heart was going to burst, but found the breath to call out, "Maglor!"

"Maedhros!" Maglor called back as he ran to his brother.  

To be continued.

Translations:

Ir abarad = Until tomorrow.

Post vaer = Sleep well.

Tithen min = Little one.

Melethen = My love.

Tithen aiwe = Little bird.

Telo = Come!

Chapter Text

The brothers clung to each other as unhindered tears of joy trailed down their faces and glimmered in the moonlight.  Each of them tried to say all at once everything pouring from their hearts. This was the miracle that was never supposed to happen. Maedhros reached up and gently brought their foreheads together. Maglor held the back of Maedhros' head with his trembling fingers. "Elen sila lumenn omentielvo."  Maglor's face was luminous as his tear-smothered voice whispered the ancient Quenya greeting. Maedhros also found it hard to speak. This was his dear beautiful brother of blessed memory.  "Emelen linna ceni chen," he finally said, his emotions nearly choking him.

The salty drops continued to splash down Maglor's high cheeks as he hugged his brother tighter. "I watched you fling yourself into that fiery oblivion." He took a deep breath and swallowed. "I thought I had lost you forever." His hands gladly brought Maedhros closer. His eyes rose and he looked at the stars. "I have my brother again," he called out to them. 

Maedhros gazed into the West and silently thanked the Valar for their kindness. Suddenly there was a great quiver in his mind. A longing was rising…but this wasn't the longing he had felt so many times in the past. This was a call straight to his soul. He paused without letting go of Maglor; his brows drew together as he tried to concentrate on the sensation. It was no use; as quickly as it had been felt, it was gone. Maedhros swiftly dismissed it as part of the high emotions surrounding them; his heart was soaring too high. He pulled back and held Maglor at arms' length. "I too resigned myself to never knowing what happened to you." His lips widened into a broad smile. "Now…you are here." 

"Yes!"  Maglor beamed as his hands came up to Maedhros' shoulders and gently shook him. "Maedhros!" Words had become inadequate.

Maedhros began to wipe his cheek with his fingertips. "When I heard the Song of Iluvatar once more, I had no idea it would lead to this."  They both began to laugh, unable to believe what their hearts knew to be true. Maglor rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands as he tried to regain his composure. Finding the gesture futile, he placed his hands back on Maedhros shoulders. "How I have missed you." He bit his lower lip as his eyes began to blur again. Maedhros found it impossible to measure the delight Maglor's words made him feel. He could only draw Maglor into his arms again and hug him tightly.

Many minutes passed, and they were reluctant to let go of each other; afraid somehow it was going to turn out to be some cruel dream. Finally, Maedhros heaved a sigh and dabbed his eyes on his sleeve as laughter began to escape his lips once more. "We can not stay here. The tide will be coming in soon and there is much you need to know." He suddenly looked up. Ailsa's small figure stood motionless as she watched them from the high ledge above.  Maglor followed his brother's gaze to the figure on the sea cliff.  "Who is that, brother?"

"Come, I will introduce you," he said as he squeezed Maglor's arm. Maedhros turned and walked to the path while Maglor silently followed.

As Ailsa watched them climb the path, her mind was a flurry of barely contained curiosity.  Who was the stranger who seemed to know Maedhros enough to hug him on sight? When Maedhros first reached the beach, she was frustrated by her inability to hear over the wind and surf what they had called to each other. Their conversation went on for quite a while and they hugged each other many times. She frowned as she strained to see more. Who is this guy?

When Maedhros suddenly looked up, she was startled. More so when the stranger's attention slowly followed. They talked a bit more, and she couldn't decide whether to retreat back into the woods or wait to see what was going to happen.  She nearly bolted when they began to climb the path, but thought it would be stupid to leave since they already knew she was there.  So she decided she'd stay put even though her heart continued to race as she waited for them to reach her. 

Maedhros led the way, and as he got closer, Ailsa could see the look of joy on his tear stained face. Ailsa had never seen his face so relaxed; so happy.  She couldn't help wondering what had made him cry. The stranger too had trails of tears on his cheeks. "Maedhros, is something wrong?" She looked from Maedhros to the stranger and back again.

Maedhros smiled at the sound of concern in her question. "No Ailsa, there is nothing wrong on this happiest of nights."  The stranger stood quietly as Maedhros spoke. He was dressed in a light colored fisherman's sweater and his snug jeans were tucked into calf-high leather boots. His clothing seemed the only thing normal about him. Maedhros and he were about the same height with the same lean build and long hair. As he turned his face into the dim moonlight, it was hard to ignore the fact that Ailsa found herself focusing on his exquisite face. Like Maedhros, he was extraordinarily handsome, and there was something familiar about his eyes. He looked so much like the Elves in the Shimmer. She couldn't help smiling nervously as she felt his powerful stare.   

"Ailsa, I am glad you are here. The miracle we talked about has occurred. I have been given a great sign." Maedhros smiled broadly as he gestured with his arm. "Ailsa, allow me to introduce you to, my brother, Maglor…your uncle.  Maglor, this is Ailsa; the lasted member of the House of Feanor" Two surprised faces suddenly looked directly at Maedhros.

- O -

Lying in the blackness of her room waiting as night slowly moved toward morning was agony for Ailsa.  She looked at the clock on her nightstand, 3:34 a.m. Not many hours until the sun would finally make its appearance. Unfortunately, experiencing those hours as they slowly ticked away seemed endless. The crumpled covers of the bed hindered her as she tossed and turned trying to get back to sleep. She desperately wanted to get back to sleep, but any chance of that disappeared as she remembered the cliff top and meeting her uncle. 

Maedhros' startling introduction had at first so surprised her, Ailsa could do no more than smile tentatively and give Maglor a slight nod. Maglor seemed just as stunned at Maedhros' revelation. His face was like carved marble, but his intense grey eyes were alive and continued exploring her face. Ailsa couldn't help meeting his gaze with the same searching look. 

Then Maedhros did something odd. Before either one of them could begin to ask any questions, he began to usher them quickly back to the house.  Conversation was discouraged with his assurances that all of their questions would be answered "in the morning." 

Was Maedhros crazy? How was she supposed to wait until morning?  She couldn't imagine why he wanted to delay. Maybe it was the shock, but she obeyed and dutifully followed Maedhros' lead. After reaching the house, he abruptly bid Ailsa good night before she could even slip in one question.  Maglor looked confused and gave her a little bow, but kept his attention on Maedhros as he did.  It seemed he also found Maedhros' behavior a little strange.  Maedhros took Maglor's arm and directed him toward the library.  Frustrated and disappointed, Ailsa could only call a short "Night" after them before heading up the stairs to her bedroom. She thought about going to her father's room, but decided that she'd let him sleep.  He'd need all his rest when this new development was revealed to him in the morning. 

What little sleep Ailsa did manage to get was fitful and full of strange dreams. Dreams of strange landscapes, of Maedhros and Maglor, and some how, scenes from the Shimmer.  Of course he was there…that blond elf…standing, watching, and continuing his vigil as he waited on the high wall of that unnamed city.  She began to wake and he disappeared into the swirling mist of her dream world. A voice echoed in her head as her eyes slowly opened. "Aphado nin!" She sat bolt up and for a moment felt as if someone was in the room with her. Who said that? Ailsa looked around almost anticipating finding someone.  She was soon disappointed, she was alone.

Something wasn't right; she began to feel an odd tug of sorrow deep inside her. She couldn't remember any memories of anything distressing in her dreams, so where was this sadness coming from?  Frowning, she stared into the darkness hoping for the return of some kind of serenity that would allow her to fall back to sleep.  Regrettably, it wasn't going to happen. Instead, her mind began churning with the questions she had in her head since meeting Maglor. She felt happy for Maedhros, but her rational side was in full assault mode trying to make sense of this new development and just where Maglor fit in. Ailsa shook her head. The cold hard truth of the matter was where there had been one tormented Elvish soul living out his punishment in this time, now there were two under the same sentence. She punched the pillow in frustration.  "Damn!"  Too many unanswered questions and far too many possibilities. 

- O -

In the Archives, Maglor was asking his questions. "Who is this child of yours? I can sense Elvish blood in her, but you mentioned something about her being the latest member of our family?"

Maedhros raised his hand, "Peace, brother. There is much you must learn. Let me start with this." He walked over to the shelving and pulled.  Maglor stood quietly and observed the door swing open revealing a long dark passageway with a flickering light at its end. "That light…?"  Maedhros smiled at the quizzical look on Maglor's face.

Maedhros placed his hand on Maglor's shoulder. "It is the beginning of my story." With that, he walked into the passageway. Once again, Maglor followed his brother.

- O -

Maglor slowly moved toward the shimmering mist; his mind reeling. His eyes grew ever wider as he stared in disbelief at it. Incredible!  The voices coming from the glowing vapors were speaking Sindarin. By the Valar!  It had been too long since he had seen other Elves or heard Elvish spoken like that. Amazement coursed through him.

A band of five unknown Elves walked in the twilight along a woodland stream as they roughly encouraged a small pallid-looking being to keep up with them. The strange nearly naked creature moved mostly on all four of his spindly limbs and was held captive by a rope around his neck. The excess lead was held securely by one of the Elves and it was quite obvious the creature was not happy.  Awful cries and moans came from him as he spoke to some unseen companion. Maglor could scarcely hear him, but his steady chatter was about something that was "precious" to him. The group stopped by a tall tree and their prisoner was allowed to climb into the high branches. However, the end of the long rope was still held fast by his Elven keeper. The others stood patiently waiting, trying to ignore the continual grumbling from the tree top.

Suddenly from out of the surrounding thick undergrowth, Orc raiders descended on the party. Maglor, the warrior, instinctively reached for his sword, but stopped and felt foolish as he glanced down at his empty hand.  He could do no more than anxiously watch the outnumbered Elves fight the Orcs.  As the combat continued, the strange being hiding in the high foliage nimbly climbed down the tree and quickly made his escape along the stream.  His long thin fingers frantically clutched at the rocks on the bank as his large fish-like eyes searched wildly for a safer route.  Maglor's hand rose, ready to grasp the creature by the neck, but his fingertips hit the invisible barrier protecting the vapor instead. He looked at his hand and then his brother. "What curious magic is this," he asked.

Maedhros cleared his throat. "The Shimmer is not the only thing that I need to show you."  He walked over to the chest on the rock shelf and opened it. Maglor watched as a strangely familiar radiance suddenly exploded in front of Maedhros. What caused the light was obscured by Maedhros' body, but then, as suddenly as it appeared, the light was gone. Maedhros turned and faced Maglor. "This is something I never thought I would ever be able to do again," he said and held out his hand to Maglor. He slowly opened his fingers and the great white blaze of the Silmaril bathed Maglor's body as slow recognition registered on his ashen face. He suddenly felt as if the air had been stolen out of his lungs as his eyes settled on the Silmaril resting in Maedhros' palm.

Motionless, Maglor stared at the gem and the perfect skin of Maedhros' hand. "How…," he asked as he slowly stepped toward the pulsating light.

"Recent events have made me see that forgiveness can one day be ours." Maedhros smiled.  Before he could stop him, Maglor reached out and snatched the Silmaril from his hand. Spinning away from Maedhros, he held the jewel close to his chest waiting, praying that his brother was right.

"Maglor!" Maedhros' voice was filled with apprehension. He watched as Maglor's shoulders rapidly rose and fell; his concern only increased. Was Maglor in pain? Suddenly, Maglor raised his arm; he held the Silmaril by the undamaged tips of his fingers. As the light bathed them both, he shouted, "We are both forgiven!" His words echoed in the cave room. He turned again, the Silmaril resting safely in his hand and a look of joy on his face. "Praise Eru, we are worthy again, my brother." Laughter poured from his lips.

Maedhros looked at the Silmaril shining in Maglor's perfect hand. A wave of happiness flowed through him. "Ailsa kept telling me there could be forgiveness. I never dared hope." 

Maglor took Maedhros' hand in his and brought it to his chest. "Now you must tell me everything."

- O -

As dawn streaked pale fingers of light high across the sky, Ailsa was already awake and dressed.  As quietly as possible, she made her way down the staircase in the semi-darkness.  The hall was silent except for the little creaks and moans expected from a house as old as Egla Tir.  She walked into the kitchen, and without turning on the overhead lights, started to make coffee by just the small light above the sink.  She sat at the kitchen table waiting for the pot of the coffeemaker to fill. As she stared off into the dimly lit room, she tried to focus on the main questions she decided needed to be answered most. Had Maglor been living in this world all this time as well?  Was he to be the hope Maedhros had been waiting for?  How will his arrival affect life at Egla Tir? A nagging little question was added to the others; why didn't Maedhros want Maglor to talk to her last night?

Ailsa shook her head; everything felt mixed up. She was happy the brothers were together, but the sadness she felt from her dreams still sat heavily in the back of her mind. Resting her elbows on the wooden table top, she covered her face with her hands.  She let out a heavy sigh and gently shook her head again as she dragged her fingers through her hair in frustration. This was just too much for a mortal to have to deal with, especially without a very large cup of black coffee. 

- O -

Below, Maedhros was finishing his tale. "Ewan and Ailsa are the latest in the line of my children. They have been more than just the next to inherit Egla Tir. They have been the reason for so many of the things that have come to pass. Of the truths they have discovered. Perhaps the very reason you are here. They have been instrumental in giving me the chance to hope again. I know now we can live out our punishments here…together." Maglor knew everything at last.   Maedhros stood waiting, the Shimmer glowing behind him.

Maglor looked at the Silmaril in his hand and smiled. With his brother's keen eyes on him, he walked over to the rock shelf, placed the Silmaril back into the pouch, and returned it to the chest. He closed the lid and stood quietly for a moment. Finally, he looked at Maedhros and smiled again. "Yes Maedhros, we will be together, but not here." He closed the distance between them and took hold of Maedhros' arms. "Brother, we can go home," he announced.

Maedhros could only blink as he tried to understand what his brother was trying to say. Home? Deep inside his heart, disbelief waged war with the possibility. He could not let Maglor live with a foolish hope.  "Forgiven yes, enough so we can hold a Silmaril, but we will never be allowed to return. Not after what we have done." He spoke gravely. "Our deeds condemn us to this punishment…forever."

"Yes and our unworthiness was part of that punishment." Maglor tried to reason with him. "But now we both can hold the Silmaril without it destroying our flesh. If what your children have said is true, The Blessed Realm lays just beyond the horizon. We have finally been given a chance to return to our people. To our own kind." Maglor's face was shining as he spoke. "You have heard the Song of Iluvatar. When the song of your Fea came to me, I knew the time had come for us to return home. Brother, do you not see…can you not feel the call?  Our banishment is ended." Maglor stared intently at Maedhros.

"I do not know, Maglor. I want to believe it, but I…just…can not." Maedhros apologized. "I need to talk to Ewan and Ailsa."

The look of disappointment slowly stole across Maglor's face. Why is Maedhros acting so? He heard the slight catch in Maedhros' voice as he spoke Ewan and Ailsa's names. He had to admit his brother was far closer to his mortal family than he led on. He also knew he would have to make Maedhros acknowledge what he refused to understand. With that thought, Maglor's eyes grew dark. "Do what you have to do Maedhros, but do not let your attachments to this world keep you from seeing the truth."

Maedhros opened his mouth to protest, but hesitated.  He was unable to say what his brother wanted to hear from him. Maglor was right; he did have attachments to this world. Two very strong attachments. Maedhros walked over to the doorway and stopped. "I wish I could see the truth as you do…" Maedhros' voice trailed off.  Maglor could only shake his head as he returned his attention back to the Shimmer.

Walking down the passageway, Maedhros' mind was more confused than ever. Maglor was right, but he was also very wrong.  They were worthy once more to hold the Silmaril, but forgiven all the dark sins their duty to the Oath forced them to do? How could that be possible?

Forgiveness! Surely after all this time…the possibility of returning to his people.  The very thought of it made his heart shudder.  His soul ached with Maglor's words, but he still feared speaking openly about it. This was the reason he had stopped Maglor and Ailsa from asking any questions last night. He realized he had felt it as he greeted Maglor on the beach. The truth hid somewhere within the decision he would have to make. Maedhros just wasn't ready to make that decision. 

Entering the library, he could see morning was upon them. He also sensed movement in the house. Ailsa was awake. Ailsa.

- O -

Watching her from the kitchen doorway, Maedhros could see Ailsa wasn't herself this morning.  He could feel her battle against the overwhelming emotions consuming her thoughts. Why is she feeling such sorrow? Disquiet filled his heart. Yes, he had attachments to this world.

"When I felt movement in the house, I knew it had to be you."  His soft voice echoed within the silence of the kitchen.

Ailsa's head shot up at the sound of Maedhros' voice.  She was too tired to actually jump at the suddenness of it, but she was startled all the same.  "Jeez Maedhros, you shouldn't sneak up on a person like that."  Maedhros smiled as he imagined his normally silent walk as "sneaking up."  Ailsa casually rested her cheek on her hand as she looked at him.  He stood at the end of the table, his hair unbound, falling down his chest. Although still dressed in his clothes from the previous night, he looked as fresh as if he had gotten a full night's sleep.  Without her first cup of coffee, she couldn't help hating him for that. 

Maedhros grew concerned as he looked at her and noticed the dark circles under her normally bright eyes. Of course he knew the reason for their appearance.  "I see you did not get much sleep last night," he said almost apologetically.  The coffeemaker's soft beep filled the kitchen with its announcement it was finished.

"Well, I've had better nights."  She said, getting up and walking over to the counter and grabbing the handle of the pot.  "You want some of this?" She asked glancing over her shoulder before she poured the fragrant dark liquid into her waiting cup. Maedhros shook his head.  When she finished, she walked back to her seat at the head of the table.

Maedhros sat down beside her. "I know," he began, "you must have many questions for Maglor…and me."  His brows rose in unison as he spoke in that controlled manner of his, but there was a noticeable undercurrent of excitement in him as well. 

Ailsa sipped her coffee and tried very hard to wake up. She was grateful as she felt the welcome warmth of the coffee fill her body. "Many questions don't even cover it," she finally said.  "Maglor's sudden appearance is a huge surprise."  Maedhros smiled back at her, his hard fought reserve falling easily away. "There will be time for all your questions later this morning.  You can not imagine what it means to have my brother back."  There was great contentment shining in his eyes as he spoke.  Ailsa suddenly felt bad. She had been selfishly worrying what Maglor's appearance would mean to them and not thinking about how happy Maedhros must be to see his brother again.  She covered his hand with her own and gently squeezed it.  "It's great you two are together again. I know you've missed him."  Maedhros turned his hand over and cradled her hand in his. "I have no words in Elvish or English sufficient to express the joy I feel right now," he smiled.

"I'm happy for you both." Ailsa smiled back and then returned to her coffee, taking another drink. "Where is Uncle Maglor?" She asked dryly as she glanced at the doorway.

Maedhros couldn't help being amused. "Last night I told him everything that has happened to me.  I showed him the Archives, and of course, I showed him the Shimmer. He was amazed to say the least."  Maedhros paused.  "He is still down there watching it." 

Ailsa's eyes rose over the rim of her large coffee cup. "Well, it's better than cable I guess," she responded sarcastically.  She drained the last few drops from the cup and placed it on the table. Maedhros silently rose and took her cup in his hand. Ailsa watched him as he casually walked over to the coffeemaker and proceeded to pour her another serving.  It seemed a bit out of character for him to wait on her like this.  He must be in a really good mood, she reasoned. She smiled her thanks as he placed it once more in front of her.  She took another drink. "We just have to figure out what all this is going to mean." Ailsa said it more to the coffee than to her companion sitting mutely next to her; his attention somewhere other than the kitchen of Egla Tir.  Ailsa didn't know if he was purposely ignoring her or if he just didn't hear her.

 
Maglor's statements continued to echo in his head. Sitting there with Ailsa, Maedhros' only thoughts were of the promise he made to watch over his children. How could he continue to do that if he believed Maglor? How could he leave the two best reasons to stay?  To never know what turn their lives would take and more importantly, not being there for them. Once again, anguish followed on the heels of happiness.  He couldn't keep the wan smile from appearing on his lips. Suffering within this new dilemma, he knew his punishment was far from over.
 

"So when do we get to have the big family meeting?"  There was a slight edge to Ailsa's voice as she tried once again to get Maedhros' attention.  It wasn't just the lack of sleep that made her feel that way.  The sadness that she had felt earlier was changing; there was now a shadow of dread lurking in her mind that wouldn't go away.  She couldn't bring herself to feel the joy that Maedhros felt, and what concerned her more was she didn't know why.

Maedhros was very aware of Ailsa and the tone of her question.  "I thought after breakfast, we could all go to the library and talk."  With that, Maedhros got up and left Ailsa to her coffee and private thoughts.  He could sense her apprehension.  As always, it was difficult for her to hide her feelings from him.  He wondered if she was sensing the approach of something that was going to cause her great unhappiness. Maedhros knew that if he chose to believe Maglor, he would have to unwillingly shoulder the responsibility for that unhappiness.  But not now…now, they had to welcome back a member of the family.

- O -

The morning grew brighter as Mrs. Whitehall and the housemaids arrived at the manor. They all stood staring at Maglor while Maedhros made the introductions. Maglor had changed clothes and was even more handsome in one of Maedhros' suits of deep olive green.  He continued to wear his dark hair loose and even Ailsa found it hard not to stare at him. The two Elves standing together were quite a striking pair. "My brother has been living abroad for many years and this is his first visit back to England," Maedhros told them.  The story sounded rather lame to Ailsa and she tried not to roll her eyes as Maedhros told it. She decided to support him with a well placed smile anyway. 

There were the obvious surprised looks on the other faces, but Mrs. Whitehall took to Maglor with unconcealed delight.  A big smile covered her face as she began to make a great fuss over the new guest.  She offered her hand as she spoke rapidly to him. "Did you have a good trip? Do you like your room? You must be hungry, have you had anything to eat? Your brother should have told us that you were coming." She gave Maedhros a scolding look. "I sincerely hope he's given you one of the better rooms." 

Maglor was startled at first and a little uncomfortable not knowing how to react to Mrs. Whitehall's attentions.  He looked awkwardly to his brother for help.  Maedhros just smiled at him and it relaxed Maglor's uneasiness. After that, he fell easily into conversation with the housekeeper, charming her with every word. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Whitehall. Please do not worry; Maedhros has taken good care of me."  His eyes sparkled as he spoke. "My brother speaks very highly of you and appreciates the way you and the staff tend Egla Tir."  Maglor gave Mrs. Whitehall a slight bow.

Tammy and Colleen smiled shyly as they heard the extremely handsome brother of their employer refer to them as "the staff."  "Welcome to Egla Tir," they nervously said in unison.  Both girls blushed when he gifted them with a dazzling smile and thanked them.

Maedhros gave Mrs. Whitehall instructions for breakfast as the two walked toward the kitchen. Colleen and Tammy reluctantly followed them, giving Maglor one last glance before finally going through the doorway to the kitchen.

Ailsa chuckled when they were finally alone. "Seems you've made a few conquests. Mrs. Whitehall sure doesn't fuss over us like that." Her eyes moved to the doorway for a moment and then back to Maglor's face. "And I think our housemaids may never recover."  As Maglor listened, his attention focused on the young woman who carried the blood of his family in her veins.  The beginning of a smile tipped the corners of his mouth as he realized while he sought evidence of her place in the family, she was quietly assessing him for his. Ailsa lowered her gaze suddenly embarrassed at being under his scrutiny again. She felt uneasy until she recognized his curiosity only matched her own.

In the morning light, Ailsa could see the subtle differences between the brothers.  Where Maedhros' hair was dark auburn and normally gathered at his neck, Maglor wore his much longer dark brown hair loose about his shoulders and down his back. Ailsa also noticed Maglor rolled his R's slightly when he spoke. She wondered if he retained more of an Elvish accent than Maedhros had.  There was a definite brotherly resemblance, but Maglor's face had a more composed beauty to it. His grey eyes were also slightly different; they shone with a light that seemed to come from a powerful source deep within him.  There was very little that missed his notice.

"Mrs. Whitehall is a very kind person." Maglor finally answered while still searching Ailsa's eyes, as if trying to see the thoughts behind them. "I imagine she fusses over all of you. The housemaids are just," Maglor's smile reached his eyes, "…very young." 

At that moment, Ailsa couldn't help liking Maglor. She didn't know if Elves were able to charm anyone they chose to, or if it was just the singular trait of her particular Elvish relatives.  She was aware he was trying very hard to be open with her, but she still couldn't help feeling he was also trying hard to keep himself a bit detached as well. She couldn't help a sigh. Would she ever understand Elves?

Ewan came down the stairs as Maedhros joined Ailsa and Maglor again.  He had slept in, not knowing the surprise waiting for him downstairs.  He had the same curious look on his face as Ailsa had after meeting Maglor. His curiosity, however, was of a different sort. "How fantastic you two have found each other," Ewan beamed at the brothers.  He welcomed Maglor for the second time that morning, but quickly got down to business "I have so many questions to ask you.  It'll be wonderful to have another point of view to help us.  There's so much work to be done you know."  Ewan was very pleased; now he had two Elves to help with the histories.  He was most anxious to pick Maglor's brain for information and seemed oblivious to anything else. Maglor quickly smiled as he indulged the scholar.

The family breakfasted together and the conversation was light. Maedhros made sure that everyone knew they would go to the library later and they would find the answers to all their questions there.  Maglor was very polite and worked hard to be friendly, but there was still a wall of distance surrounding him. Ailsa couldn't get the crazy feeling out of her head he wanted some kind of protection. He also didn't have the same underlying excitement that Maedhros exhibited.  Ailsa figured he'd lived a very different life than Maedhros and it would take time for him to feel at ease with them all. He had a lot to get used to and they would all just have to be patient. 

Once in the safety of the library, they began to talk.  Ewan with his pad of paper and sharpened pencils sat with Ailsa on one of the leather sofas while Maedhros situated himself in a wingback chair facing the windows. Maglor sat on the window seat in front of his family. Because Maedhros had told him everything while they were down in the cave room, he had few questions. The one or two questions he did had been centered on the Shimmer.  Ewan and Ailsa were able to confirm what Maedhros had indicated earlier.  The visions were slowing down and the mysterious advent of sound was both welcome and troubling, but it was Ewan's theory that fascinated him the most. He found it easy to believe it was true. "I have always dreamed Aman was lying out there waiting for us. It is more than I could ever have hoped to finally know that it is true." Maglor's eyes darted to Maedhros' face. Maedhros didn't look at him; his eyes were fixed on the wooden floor before him.

Ailsa watched the body language between the brothers. Maedhros was definitely trying to ignore Maglor.  Maybe he doesn't want to hear about The Blessed Realm. "Well Maglor, where have you been living?" Ailsa asked. "How did you know to come here?"  Ailsa tilted her head slightly as she asked her questions. 

"Maedhros said you would be very direct." There was a pleased look in Maglor's eyes as his attention settled on her face. He could see touches of Maedhros in her features. The same touches he had seen in Ewan's face as well. The amusement slowly disappeared, however, as he stood up to address Ailsa's questions.  He faced the library windows.

Remembering the brutal events leading up to that day was hard for him and Maglor's thoughts could only dredge up troubled memories. All the disgrace he had felt through the years rose again as he remembered the last time he and Maedhros had been together.  The regret and guilt of the kinslayings ran deep, but the shame that added to his torture was his inability to help his brother when he needed him most. He failed Maedhros, and he still suffered the memory of it. Maglor could feel their eyes on his back. Taking a deep breath, he began.

"After Maedhros…" He bowed his head for a moment. "I was mad with grief and I fled that place of fire and death.  I cared not what happened to me or where I was going. I wandered still clutching my inheritance in what was left of my hand. I was the last of the Kinslayers and all I wanted to do was to end it...the killing…the pain…the dishonor. I stumbled through unrecognized forests and unknown terrain singing snatches of grief-filled songs to myself until finally, exhausted, I was standing at the edge of the sea.  Walking along the shore I tried to find the courage to make my end in the surging water. I had failed everyone in my life. I had nothing left."  Maglor turned to face them. A sardonic smile captured his lips. "Manwe, however, was not finished with me, you see. There was to be something more."  Deep pain filled his Elvish eyes.  It wasn't an easy thing to watch. 

Once before, Ewan and Ailsa sat and listened to a tortured soul as he suffered through the telling of the events that brought him to their world. Ailsa waited quietly, trying to support Maglor with her silence as she had Maedhros.  Ewan, who had been furiously taking notes, stopped and rested his pencil on the legal pad laying on his lap. Concern was written all over his face as he watched Maglor standing so rigidly with his hands clasped behind him staring at the empty space in front of him. With the same haunted look on his face that he had seen Maedhros wear far too many times.

When Maglor finally began again, his rich voice seemed far away. "I stared at the Silmaril in my useless hand. Its glow grew even brighter taunting me with the knowledge that hope was forever lost to me." Tears welled in his eyes. "With all my remaining strength, I cast the Silmaril as hard as I could out to sea. I prayed that there, under the inky depths of the waves, it would disappear forever.  Never to shine for anyone again.  This would be my last duty to the Oath." His brows drew together as he took a shaky breath. "But it did not sink beneath those waves. As it flew from my hand, I watched stunned when it simply vanished. A crack had opened in the air and swallowed it." Ewan began to write again.

Maglor paused, his eyes glazed over, seeing what others could not. "The space where it had vanished began to ripple. Suddenly a brilliant light surrounded me. I raised my hands trying to block the glare from my eyes. Panic rose as my body felt a great pull. Somehow I was being consumed by the light. Before I could cry out, everything around me grew black and I was immersed within a strange sensation of thick dark water."

"I thought it was the judgment of Mandos finally coming to take me to the Houses of the Dead.  As I floated motionless for some time, I can not say if I was holding my breath or if I had just forgot to breathe. But then I began to fall. My body felt a great impact and…water…I was in cold salty water. The awareness of a great shinning light made me open my eyes. It was daylight and I was in the ocean surf. The great pounding crash of the waves roared all around me. The beach was before me, and I fought the breaking waves as I tried to get to it. My efforts were fortified with my increasing need to be on dry land." 

"With what little strength I could summon, I crawled out of the surf and clawed my way across the wet sand. A small wave rushed passed me cleansing the clinging grains of sand from my hands.  I stopped and gazed at them in disbelief.  I brought the hand that had held the Silmaril up to my face, and slowly inspected it. I could not believe what I saw.  All traces of the burning were gone; the flesh was unmarked. My hand was healed. How was this magic achieved, I do not know.  I had no time to think on it; I was too close to dry land. Once back on my feet, I looked around. Despite the roaring sea behind me, the thought I was on the same beach quickly disappeared. I was not. In fact, the terrain looked quite different."

"A more frightening awareness took hold of me then."  Maglor stopped; he had difficulty talking about what happened next. "I could no longer hear the Feas of my people singing Iluvatar's song.  All were silent to me. Slowly, the realization I was alone hammered at my heart."

Maedhros grabbed the arm of his chair as he heard his own words echoing back at him. Maglor had not been spared the cruel silence.  He closed his eyes; he knew exactly how his brother felt.

"I was to remain alone. Though I searched for a long time, I knew I was no longer in Middle-earth. In this strange land called Scotland, I found only the descendants of the Second Born. Like Maedhros, I too knew that it was to be my punishment to dwell there…forever."  Maglor fell silent for a moment.  With effort, he tried to relax the rising tension in his throat. Maedhros opened his eyes and sat forward ready to help his brother if he needed it. Maglor finally found his control and continued.

"I lost count of the years that passed. I tried to live a solitary life, but I found I stumbled easily into friendships with the mortals of this world. For a time, I would enjoy their companionship, but even that small pleasure was to be denied me. You see it became increasingly difficult to watch my friends take their much too short road to sickness, decay, and finally death. Their passing brought deep grief to my heart."  Maglor paused again. "I still mourn them."

Ailsa heard the heartache in his words and looked at Maedhros for a moment.  This is what Maedhros has had to endure.  He's had to watch all the heirs slowly die.  Ailsa quickly looked at her father; Ewan was furiously writing on his tablet hanging on Maglor's words. Just as Maedhros is going to have to watch us do the same.  She softly bit her lip and lowered her gaze.

Maglor gave a deep sigh. "I was no longer willing to interfere in the lives of men, nor did I wish to feel the grief of their inevitable loss. So I began to wander again, staying away from their world as much as possible. Finally, I made my way to an isolated beach on the Isle of Man."  Maglor's mouth twisted into an ironic smile. "I existed there for many years, grateful for the little peace my solitude allowed me." A look of joy quickly covered his face. "Then the blessed day came when the Song of Iluvatar returned to me and I heard Maedhros' Fea once more. My brother was alive and in this world.  I immediately set sail in my boat knowing my course lay to the South, but not knowing where my journey would end.  Just confident I would find him."  There were tears in Maglor eyes again. Maedhros rose from his chair and stood beside his brother, his hand on his shoulder.  Maglor's hand slowly rose and covered Maedhros' and they exchanged a tender look.  The happy ending to Maglor's tale.

Ailsa watched the gesture of affection between Maedhros and Maglor.  Their devotion had seen them through the dark times of the Oath years when they had only themselves to rely on for loyalty and understanding.  Sharing the same purpose and now the same end. She could also feel the difference between them.  Where Maedhros chose to be part of this world…even starting a family, Maglor kept to himself isolated from a large part of civilization.  It helped explain that of the two brothers, Maglor still retained an otherworldly quality about him.  Very much like the Elves Ailsa had seen in the Shimmer. The brothers still felt being kept away from all they knew and loved was the judgment meted out against them.  They both suffered for their mistakes and now they could give each other solace in their punishment…maybe there were to be no other miracles for them.

Ewan sat watching Maedhros and Maglor, and smiled. It was hard not to be happy for them. He couldn't have imagined a better ending for their individual banishments. Their fascinating stories, however, only stimulated his speculation. Gently tapping his pencil against his lips, his mind began to analyze what he had heard. There was a logical explanation for what Maglor had experienced. He frowned as he began to write down various key words on his yellow pad. He underlined the word "Electromagnetic" and quickly scratched it out. "Power Centers" was next with several question marks written after it.  Shaking his head, he crossed this out too; his frustration only increased.  There still was no logical answer as to how the brothers actually traveled to this time.  Besides, where did Maglor's Silmaril go?  A sarcastic smile lifted a corner of Ewan's mouth as he wrote "Miracle?"  Would it take a miracle for him to find out?

 
To be continued Chapter 8, Part 2 - Forgiveness

Chapter Text

During the following days, the brothers were together in deep discussions. They spoke in Quenya most times, especially when they were arguing. Late one afternoon, Ailsa was just about to enter the library when she heard them, which made her stop. They spoke so quickly, she couldn't make out what was being said, but she recognized the tone of an argument when she heard it.  If only her father were in the library.  His Quenya was far superior to hers and he could have translated what was being said, but he was down in the cave room and out of earshot. Damn! She wanted to know what they were arguing about. Ailsa could only stand in the hall wondering. What if Maglor was feeling uncomfortable around so many mortals and wanted to return to the Isle of Man.  Maybe he was trying to pressure Maedhros into returning with him, and he was meeting with resistance. That would explain the reason for their heated discussion.  Their voices weren't raised, but their words were spoken with quick short bursts. Defeated, Ailsa decided to leave them and come back later, but she quietly closed the library doors before she left.

Inside the library the brothers barely noticed the doors closing. Maglor was frustrated and his anger was rising. "Why are you being so stubborn?"  Maedhros though older and supposedly wiser could not control his irritation. "What makes you so sure that we can sail your little boat to The Blessed Realm on the mere chance we will be allowed through the barrier mists?" Maedhros grew more animated as he spoke. "You may be strong enough to take the rejection. I am not!"

Maglor's anger cooled as he heard the dread in Maedhros' voice. "How will we ever know unless we try?  Maedhros, I am not blind. I know you have something else that makes you stay. Is it not better to leave with the memories of them as they are now? Forever unchanged and happy?"

"You just do not understand. I made a promise."

"Oh, I understand brother." His eyes narrowed. "I too know what it is like to make a promise.   I also know what it is like to lose family. I share the same memories of their deaths as you do. Neither one of us could keep our father and brothers from their fates. You should know by now your promise can not keep the inevitable from happening to your children." Maglor stared coldly at his brother. "What will you do when it is finally Ailsa's turn?"

Though he was bathed in the sunlight pouring through the library windows, Maedhros suddenly felt stone-cold. If Maglor had struck him in the face, he could not have felt any worse. "I have already made my decision." He lowered his eyes unwilling to let Maglor see what he tried to hide.

Maglor's eyes widened as he realized what Maedhros intended. "So you will allow your grief to kill you." He threw the accusation at him.

Maedhros turned and faced the windows. "You know nothing of the grief I have buried deep inside me," he said flatly.

Maglor gave up and walked away leaving Maedhros standing defiantly in front of the windows. He opened the library doors and firmly closed them behind him.  Slamming them shut wouldn't have been as loud as his controlled firm closure. It was heard all the way down in the Archives where Ewan stood at the bottom of the stairs, his hand on the railing and his mouth slightly agape. He had heard the ending of the brothers' argument. He also knew that Elves could will themselves to die of their grief. The anger and harsh statements were overwhelmed in Ewan's mind by the thought of Maedhros wanting to die because of the ultimate fate Ailsa and he would share.

Ewan climbed the stairs and slowly approached Maedhros. The Elf stood looking out the glass, his arms crossed against his chest.  Ewan cleared his throat and Maedhros looked over his shoulder at him. 

"You know the one bad thing about teaching someone your language…"  As he took off his glasses, Ewan sheepishly tried to smile. "Is that you run the risk of them being able to understand conversations not meant for them to hear."  Ewan blushed slightly as he spoke. 

Maedhros lowered his eyes and slowly turned his attention back to the window.  "Maglor and I are just disagreeing at the moment."  He said somberly, obviously choosing his words carefully.  "How much did you hear?"

"I was spared the beginning, but lucky me, I was there for the end," Ewan tried hard not to reveal his concern.

Maedhros lowered his head a bit.  "I am sorry you heard that part."  He voice was sad.  "I…," he tried to continue.

"Listen Maedhros, I don't know where you got this idea," Ewan interrupted, "but I can't…we can't be the reason you end your life that way." He stepped forward, "No, not because of us."

Maedhros turned to face Ewan. "Without Ailsa and you, I have nothing. The affection I feel for and from you both is something I have not experienced for a very long time." His hand came up and touched Ewan's arm. "I can not imagine living without it."

Ewan was finding it hard to understand Maedhros' reasoning. "What you're planning isn't right." There was urgency in his voice now. "The direction our lives take is just that…ours. Your destiny is different and you must continue to its conclusion."

Maedhros' face paled as he felt the truth in Ewan's words. "What makes you think I want to continue?"

"What about Maglor?  Your destiny is tied to his." Ewan face reflected his anguish. "You and he are the last of your kind to dwell in what was once Middle-earth. You have saved so much of its history. We now know how it has touched every culture through the ages. If you allow yourself to be destroyed, everything you've built will be for nothing. And all of it won't mean anything to Ailsa and me if we're the reason you do this."  Ewan felt like he was trying to talk someone off the ledge of a high building.  "Maedhros don't let your story end with us," he pleaded.

Tears filled Maedhros' eyes. Ewan hadn't heard all of the argument, but even he knew where his destiny lay.  He brought his hand up and held the side of Ewan's face.  Ewan tried to retain his pathetic attempt at a smile, but found he could only press his lips together after seeing the emotion in the ancient Elf's eyes. Maedhros stood there a moment and quickly drew Ewan closer into a hug. He abruptly let Ewan go and left the library. Once Maedhros was gone, Ewan pulled out his handkerchief, dabbing it at his eyes and his nose. I don't even know if I got through to him. With a shaky sigh he turned toward the stairs and began to slowly descend into the Archives.

- O -

Ailsa sat in the cast-iron chair on the back lawn facing the garden and woods.  She snuggled deeper into her jacket very glad she'd worn it. The sun hadn't made its way to the back of the manor house yet, so it was still rather chilly. Looking at her watch, she tried to figure out when it would be a good time to check on Maedhros and Maglor.  Suddenly from around the corner Maglor came walking in a most determined manner.  Ailsa opened her mouth to say something, but closed it immediately once she saw the look on his face.  As he walked past, Maglor turned his head slightly and gave her a quick nod.  His face was like stone, jaw set and his eyes were…just plain angry. She had never seen an Elf truly angry before. Well, irritated thanks to her unyielding pursuit to make Maedhros touch the Silmaril, but never actually angry. 

Maglor quickly walked into the woods. "Whoa," Ailsa said under her breath, "They must've had quite a little discussion." Just as she began to wonder where Maedhros was, he stepped around the corner of the manor and stopped. Maedhros' eyes quickly looked away. 

Maedhros needed to be by himself. The grief he fought so hard to dominate was slowly winning its battle against him.  The short conversation he had with Ewan triggered it, buried too long it now demanded to be heard. Maedhros knew he needed a quiet place where he could gain control of it again. As he made his way toward the garden, he hadn't expected to see Ailsa sitting at the glass table.  As she turned, he quickly averted his eyes remembering the last time he felt vulnerable like this and the bonding that occurred at the open-air theatre. He couldn't allow her to experience what he was feeling; he remembered how the kinslayings affected her. To Maedhros' mind his grief was too intense; he could not risk harming her with it.  Before Ailsa could say anything he was down the garden steps and into the trees.

Ailsa could feel the swirling grief pulsating from Maedhros. Her fingers instantly tightened into fists, her nails pressed into her flesh as she tried to control the tears welling up in her eyes. A simple glance from him brought this on and then he tore his eyes away. He was gone before she could utter a word. Something was terribly wrong and she was determined to find out what. She quickly got up and ran after him. Ailsa had only gone a few feet into the trees when she came up short and looked around.  The dappled sunlight touched the trees and angled its light to the forest floor. There was a thin haze in the quiet air. Ailsa wondered at the unearthly silence within the woods.  Neither bird nor creature made a sound. The wind was still and the normal creaking groan of the tree limbs were muted.

She continued to walk deeper within the protection of the trees; a strange feeling of heaviness filled the air. It surrounded her and she began to feel drowsy. She stopped and sat for a moment on a moss covered log. Sitting there, she began to hear the melodic echo of singing.  She immediately recognized Maedhros' voice as it flowed around her caressing her ears.  She strained to hear the words; he was singing about love. Ailsa couldn't help smiling, he was singing of Elizabeth.  Her eyelids felt heavy as she listened. As her eyes closed, she allowed the Elvish words to weave images in her mind. Her heart filled with happiness as she watched Maedhros stand next to a beautiful young woman with flowers in her long hair. He took her small hand in his, and the words wove themselves into a song of joining. Ailsa sighed as the couple turned toward the crowd witnessing their ceremony. Elizabeth glowed as she looked at her husband. Maedhros' eyes never left her face, but the song stayed with Ailsa. She felt their happiness and longed for more.

The melody changed slightly as did what Ailsa saw. A child was coming. A very pregnant and smiling Elizabeth watched as Maedhros lowered his ear to her stomach and listened. He sang of his contentment and his voice danced around Ailsa as he shared his happiness.

He whispered, "Ionnen" into her ear. Maedhros held his tiny son in his arms and sang to him. He would always love him, his arms would always protect him, and he would always be there for him. Ailsa couldn't stop the tears falling down her cheeks as the song cradled her too in its arms. She let his joy fill her, and it made her weep. The pleasure of Maedhros' song only increased, and Ailsa watched as Maedhros put his son's small hand on his mother's swollen stomach. Douglas was a beautiful little boy about four years old with his father's auburn hair and grey eyes. Ailsa knew they were awaiting Edward's arrival and her eyes crinkled as she smiled.  The golden words of the song were of dreams and anticipation. 

Suddenly, Maedhros' song turned dark, a cloud blotting out the sunlight. His voice deepened, all light and joy were gone from it. A thick wall of grief encircled her and began to tighten like a vice. Ailsa stood up and forced her eyes open, but the visions continued. Cold words of mourning battered at her now. Maedhros sat on a bed, a pale Elizabeth in his arms. The chorus of his song clutched at her breath. "Elizabeth is dead!"  The very sound of the words stabbed at her heart. She tried to concentrate, but her breathing only quickened as black threads of sorrow worked their way into her mind.  Maedhros song called to Elizabeth, begging her not to leave him. He pleaded over and over. His words became desperate; his song consumed the woods with his anguish. "NO!" Ailsa screamed and collapsed to her knees.  The words began to choke her. Maedhros wanted to die and so did she.

"No, no no!" She leaned against the dead tree and held it as she tried to rid her mind of his song. His song was killing her.  Between sobs she wailed, "My God, there wasn't enough time."  Ailsa felt his heart break, blood pounded in her head. She couldn't stop the pain. Unable to breathe she felt lightheaded and unable to see properly. The singing stopped as blackness stole her into its waiting grasp.

Ailsa heard her name.  It was quiet in the dark, the pain wasn't so bad and she liked that.  If only that voice would stop calling her name. Something was shaking her and it made her angry. "Ailsa, hear me," the voice insisted.  There's that damn voice again. She wanted to yell back, but her mouth wouldn't work.  Finally, she decided to open her eyes and see just who was bothering her. To her surprise, Maglor's concerned face was a breath away from hers.  It was his hands that held her shoulders, and he was still shaking her.  Tears were falling down her face faster than she could wipe them away. "Leave me alone." She finally said and began to cry uncontrollably.

Thank the Valar!  Maglor was afraid Ailsa had slipped too deeply into the darkness. "Telo si," Maglor said tenderly as he pulled her into his arms. Burying her face in his shoulder, Ailsa sobbed. "He lost her too soon," she wailed

"I too feel his grief." Maglor's face softened and he held Ailsa closer. Maedhros' song had touched him as well and his heart ached with it.  He held her close and let her cry her sorrow out.  Her bond with Maedhros was more intense than he had thought. So much so that when he first found her, he had worried she had come to harm. 

"I always thought they had at least a normal lifetime together." Her voice was muffled in his shoulder. "Their time together was so short," she cried harder for Maedhros and Elizabeth.

Maglor began to sing softly to her as he tried to sooth her tattered nerves.  He sang of hope and the power it gave the wounded spirit. His beautiful pure voice dispatched its magic into her mind and heart drawing her back from the edge of despair.  Her sobs quieted, but she still held on tightly to the fabric of his suit coat as she clung to the comfort of his song. Maglor held her close and continued to sing, rebuilding the strength that had been drained from her. When he was certain she was recovering he ended his song and gently stood her up. He looked closely, she was still a little pale, but her eyes were clear. "Are you feeling better," he asked.  Ailsa was still a little disoriented, but the throbbing pain was gone. "I think I'm okay. I think?"  Maglor let her go and smiled when she stood without swaying.  She held onto his arm when she took her first step. "I'll be fine," she looked up at Maglor, grateful he was there.

"I was very worried when I found you. Maedhros told me of your bond, but I had no idea it was so strong."  Maglor kept his eyes on Ailsa's face looking for any weakness.  Ailsa brought her hand up to her forehead and gently rubbed. Although the pain was gone, the gesture felt good. "I had no idea it was that strong either."  She suddenly stiffened. "Maedhros!  Is he all right?" 

Maglor brought his arm around Ailsa's shoulders and started to walk with her. "Do not worry about Maedhros." He paused as he tried to find the words that would explain what Maedhros was doing. "Elves use songs to express many things.  Our songs of grief are very powerful, but they comfort us."

"But his song made me want to die."

"Maedhros has been keeping his darkest grief buried deep. You see, he promised Elizabeth that he would always look after their sons.  Without that promise, his grief over her death would have killed him."

"You mean he would have actually…"

"Yes."

Ailsa stopped and looked at the ground unable to grasp the idea Elves could literally die of a broken heart. Modern songs always said that you could die of a broken heart, but no one ever really did.  Elves, it would seem, were more fragile than she imagined. Remembering what she had just gone through, she became very worried. "Maglor, we have to find Maedhros. We have to make sure he's all right." Ailsa started tugging his arm as she pulled him in a different direction.

The look of fear in her eyes made Maglor smile. "You are still not completely yourself. I think you should return to the manor house and rest. I can cover more ground on my own and I will be able to find him faster." 

"But…I.," Ailsa began to protest, but Maglor gently held her shoulders as he firmly pointed her towards the path to the gardens. 

"I will find him and bring him back with me. Do not worry." He told her confidently.

Ailsa couldn't argue with him. She still didn't feel quite normal yet and she realized that she would only hinder Maglor. "Okay, I'll go," she promised, and started to walk. Stopping a few feet down the path, she turned and found Maglor watching her with a "Why are you stopping?" look on his face.  He gestured to her to keep going and then swiftly disappeared into the trees.  She silently prayed Maedhros was all right.

- O -

Maglor stood within the shadows of the trees surrounding the clearing and watched Maedhros as he sat motionless on the stone bench…his head bent and eyes closed.  He hesitated disturbing his brother. Although he had told Ailsa that Maedhros would be unharmed, he wanted to be sure himself.  Maedhros' song of Elizabeth still tore at his own heart and Ailsa had slipped nearer to death then he would ever let her know.  The grief that touched them both came from Maedhros and the words of his song carried the power of his anguish. Maglor silently entered the clearing.

Maedhros' thoughts were finally settling down. The grief, so long hidden, returned to where he kept it. The song he sang had brought it to the surface and made him relive it again. But amongst his pain, the many moments of joy also rose from his memories. Where his grief made him want to die, these other memories demanded he live. All the memories were there, of his sons and their children, and their children; on and on down through the generations. Until one day he stared into Ailsa's face and saw Elizabeth's eyes staring back at him.  Ewan was right, death was not his destiny. He must choose another path. Somehow he would make himself worthy of that decision. Maedhros tilted his head back and welcomed the feel of the sun on his face. The love he felt for Ewan and Ailsa warmed his heart.

"I told Ailsa I would find you. She has the notion you might have come to harm."

The suddenness of Maglor's voice only made Maedhros smile. "As you can see, I am unharmed." Maedhros looked at his brother.  Maglor stood a few feet away, his hands behind his back, but his face wore a worried look. "How long have you been waiting there?"

"Not long." Maglor glanced at the ground. "Your song made me realize the grief you have had to carry," he looked at his brother, "Maedhros, I had no idea. I am sorry I did not understand."

Maedhros stood up and reached out to his brother. "Nor did I understand what you were trying to make me see."  Maedhros sighed and put his hand on Maglor's shoulder. "But I now see what we must do," he smiled. "It is time we went home."

To be continued.

Translations:

Elen sila lumenn omentielvo: A star shines on the hour of our meeting.

Emelen linna ceni chen: My heart sings to see you.

Aphado nin!: Follow me!

Ionnen: My son.

Telo si: Come here.

Chapter Text

Maglor was not alone. He had wandered further than he had originally planned and found the strange stone theatre on the edge of a massive crag overlooking the churning water of the sea beneath. He sat high above in one of the long granite rows watching the small group of men and women below as they went about their business. Various materials of cloth and wood were piled high before the three small stages facing the many tiered rows of seats. His curiosity peaked; he asked one of the passing workmen what was happening. He was hurriedly told they were trying to set up the different stages for a performance later that evening. Unfortunately, due to the late arrival of the set pieces, everything was behind schedule. Maglor's admiration increased as he watched them at their work. With time moving ever more quickly and the crew trying to focus on the tasks at hand, Maglor could not help wondering if some kind of magic was not at work as well. Doorways appeared seemingly from nothing, invisible walls were suddenly hanging with tapestries becoming a great hall of a lord or king. Another stage was outfitted with tied bundles of tall thin branches proclaiming the merest hint of trees.  Tiny lights were attached to the scrawny limbs in the hope of becoming an illuminated forest later.

Maglor had seen theatricals before and knew how much the imagination played in the telling of their stories.  His mouth curled into a smile as he felt the power of the fabric and the lights cast their spell over him.  He marveled how each small suggestion transformed the very air above the "grand hall" into rafters and roof. How the "great forest" with all the tiny stars hanging from the tree branches would later be winking a greeting to their brothers and sisters in the dark sky over head. There was a familiarity in this conjuring. There were thoughts of Middle-earth.

Maglor closed his eyes and remembered Beleriand. Not only the kingdoms, but the forests and rivers, the magnificent mountains, all the things that had made up his world so long ago. Maglor also recalled the noble lords of the Eldar and the gallant men of the Edain; each race with those who shone with their greatness while others were ultimately proven flawed.

Flawed like the Oath, and all those who swore to uphold it. He grimaced as the thin sharp threads of regret wound themselves tightly around his heart.  The sad knowledge of all that had been and was now gone forever filled him with a terrible ache.  He could do nothing but mourn its passing.  He felt tears gathering under his lids. This world did not hold the slightest glimpse of the magic that was once Middle-earth. Mankind's imagination could only guess with their tales of fairy folk and strange domains. His world and its people were gone and forgotten for all time. Only through the shadow visions played out in the Shimmer did it live again. That was not quite true. Maedhros had seen to it that their world lived on in the archives of Egla Tir.  In the records protected by his children, Maedhros had made sure the Eldar would never be forgotten and the tales of Middle-earth would survive. 

The protection of this legacy, however, was far less important to Maedhros than the protection of his heirs.  Maglor opened his eyes as his jaw tensed and he considered the recent scene played out earlier in the forest shortly after Maedhros and he left the clearing.

- O -

Ailsa was there!  The thought made Maedhros shudder as he quickened his pace through the trees. "You should have told me sooner," he called over his shoulder. He was upset; more at himself than at Maglor. Why did I not sense her in the woods? Deep inside, he knew why. My grief was too selfish to know anything else. If anything has happened…!

Following close behind, Maglor called out.  "Maedhros stop! If I had known you would react like this, I would not have told you."  He reached out and grabbed his brother's arm, turning his sibling toward him. Their eyes met and Maglor was unable to move as he tried to understand the fear he saw in Maedhros' eyes. "You must believe me, Maedhros. I found Ailsa before any harm was done to her." He prayed his words would somehow calm his brother. Through all they had shared together, battles lost or won, within all the pain and despair they had known, never had he ever seen anything like the panic he recognized consuming Maedhros now.

"I can only imagine what she has suffered because of me. I must see for myself."  Maedhros pulled his arm out of Maglor's grasp, and hurried off.  After watching him disappear into the forest, Maglor lowered his eyes and stared at the ground for a moment before finally walking off in another direction.

Coming upon the theatre had been a welcome surprise. For a short period he was able to sit alone with only the beautiful vista before him and the floating gulls crying high above. Then the wave of stagehands appeared to begin their work. Though he found it pleasant to watch them, he could not still his thoughts. His grey eyes traveled above the stages and out into the direction of the horizon. He let out a heavy sigh. Confusion was becoming the dominant emotion plaguing his mind of late.  After many minutes, he stood up and started to climb the stairs to the top of the cliff. Oh my brother, I never imagined leaving was going to be this hard.

- O -

With her chin tilted slightly toward the sun, Ailsa welcomed the warm sunlight on her face. She was finally feeling more like her old self. The cold air had gradually revived her as she walked through the woods. The closer she got to the manor house, the better she felt. She was still worried about Maedhros though, and knew she would persist on worrying until she saw him again. Whatever assistance Maglor might be able to give him, she needed to see for herself that Maedhros was okay.  Ailsa slowly remembered how it felt to share the love Maedhros still felt for Elizabeth and the long years he grieved her loss. She allowed the last bit of her sadness to run its course. She let out a long breath; thank God Maglor found her when he did. Who knew what would have happened to her if he hadn't. Bringing her jacket collar up around her throat, she blinked away the tears beginning to fill her eyes. Maglor was right; she needed to rest so she could regain her full strength. Otherwise, the first sight of Maedhros would only reduce her into uncontrolled sobs again.

Ailsa climbed the garden steps, and sat on the chair she had occupied before. She could easily rest out in the open air and she closed her eyes as she listened to the surrounding sounds of her world. She couldn't help chuckling as she wondered what was happening in that "other" world outside of Egla Tir. Had it only been months since she had stood in awe of the incredible stranger on the steps of her Berkeley home?  All of this was the real world to her now, the other was the fantasy.  The truth was that California, her mother, even Kyle were farther away than just miles.  She had found something special here, and it was all because of Maedhros.

She considered how much she cared for him…this ancient Elf from a far off time and place.  His strength and courage was to be admired, but his gentle dignity and regard would be things she would treasure all her life. Maedhros was family, and she would always protect his secrets. Now that she had found just how fragile his Elvish soul actually was, it only made his well-being even more important to her. She opened her eyes and began to watch the empty entrance into the woods.

Maedhros suddenly came out of the trees at a run, but stopped when he saw her.  Relief covered his face as Ailsa stood up.  He took the garden steps two at a time and quickly positioned himself so he could see her more closely. His hand came up and held the side of her cheek.  Ailsa eyes were scanning his face too. Although they both were still a little pale, they could see the other was no worse for wear.  Happy relief filled Maedhros, but he tried to remain solemn.  "Forgive me, Ailsa.  I had no idea you heard my song."

Ailsa shook her head. "When I felt all that pain…I was so worried about you." A sob caught in her throat and she began to tremble. Maedhros could see she was close to crying and drew her into his arms.  Ailsa willingly let him comfort her as her tears betrayed her once again. "I'm sorry you lost her so soon."

Maedhros began to blink away his own unwanted tears.  He took a deep breath in an attempt to quell them. "Do not mourn, Ailsa.  The memories of Elizabeth and our time together will sing in my heart forever. I would not give up one moment of them to ease the pain of her death."  Maedhros stepped back. "I am so thankful you were not harmed, tithen min," he said as he lowered his lips and tenderly kissed her brow. 

A tiny smile crept across Ailsa's mouth. There was so much affection in Maedhros' voice.  "I love you too, Maedhros." She said and hugged him even harder.  Maedhros felt his heart quake as he heard her words. He brought his arms up again and held her tightly.

It was some time before Ailsa finally let go. "Come on, let's go in," she suggested.  "I could sure use a cup of coffee about now." Maedhros smiled his approval as he quickly wiped an errant tear from his cheek.  He offered her his arm and Ailsa gratefully curled her arm around his. Without another word, they entered the manor house. 

Maglor stepped out from the cover of the trees as Maedhros and Ailsa disappeared into the house.  He had hurried back from the outdoor theatre only to witness what had just past between them; how much Maedhros cherished Ailsa. His breath came quickly as he tried to calm the melancholy gathering within him. His eagerness to return to the Blessed Realm had made him blind to so much. How could he take his brother away from his family?  It was getting harder to accept leaving as the only path for them.  He glanced at the manor house once more and turned back into the woods. Maglor was suddenly no longer sure of anything.

Later on, just before the evening meal, Maedhros found him in the cave room standing in front of the Shimmer.  A scene of a lonely grassy plain moved across the mist. "There you are brother." Maedhros smiled at him.

"I came here to think, but found I could not help watching the Shimmer." Maglor spoke without turning. Maedhros' brows drew together as he heard the flat tone in his brother's voice.

"Maglor?" Maedhros came around to look at Maglor's face. He could see Maglor's attention wasn't actually on the Shimmer; his eyes were staring at their reflections in the moving surface of the pool.

Maglor's head moved slightly.  "I need to say something to you." He paused and took in a slow breath. "I…finding you has been the one true joy I have felt since coming to this world.  There is nothing I would not do to keep you by my side." Maglor looked deep into his brother's eyes. "But I can not ask you to leave Ailsa and Ewan." The intensity of his gaze began to worry Maedhros.

"What do you mean?" Maedhros brows drew together as he tried to understand.

"Come Maedhros, I know how much they mean to you. The bond between Ailsa and you is very strong.  I also realize your leaving will be painful for all of you."  Maglor's eyes slid back to the pool; he could not look at his brother anymore.  "I can not be the reason for that pain." Maglor glanced up at Maedhros. "Let me try the mists alone, you need not leave now. If I make it through, then you can come…later." He put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "I will wait for you."

Maedhros was taken aback by Maglor's words.  He looked hard into Maglor's eyes and witnessed the conflicting emotions warring in them.  His brother's gentle heart made him put aside what he wanted and reinforced his determination to do what he thought right.  Maedhros sighed, there would be no more waiting for either of them.

He placed his hand on Maglor's arm. "Yes, I have great affection for Ewan and Ailsa.  They have brought me such happiness. Happiness I had thought was lost to me forever.  But hear me Maglor. I must let my children live their own lives. You and I, brother, we share the same destiny. As always, we will share the same journey. Nothing can change that now."  Maedhros turned and began to walk toward the opening.  "Are you sure," Maglor asked him earnestly. Maedhros stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Where you go, I must follow."  With that, he walked into the passage.

- O -

Early dawn found the brothers on the cliff of Egla Tir. They had come in the darkness to the craggy rocks to sit in the reassuring night. Remembering a time when the only light that had ever shone in their world came from the twilight of the star-filled sky. Then The Two Trees filled their eyes with a new and brighter light, only to be plunged into darkness once more after the treachery of Morgoth. In time, the gift of the sun and the moon were given to Middle-earth, but this simpler light was what they remembered most fondly and drew comfort from it.

The hours of darkness slowly faded away and one by one the stars disappeared as the light of the rising sun glowed behind them. Maedhros faced the West without regret. Sitting on a large rock several feet above the path he watched the thin pink tinted clouds above them reach out to the Blessed Realm and he began to sing. Maglor sitting a few rough boulders away began to take up the thread of Maedhros' melody with his own beautiful voice.  Both sets of shining Elvish eyes continued to gaze out to sea as they sang their song. Home was just beyond the horizon and their song answered its call.

Their dream of hope had become a reality. Ewan and Ailsa had given Maedhros this chance. Because of them, he had found Maglor again and their world now waited for them both. Instead of the remorse and longing they had felt all the long years, this new day found them singing to the far mists and beyond. The words of their song were simple and unadorned. The gift of forgiveness bestowed on them made it possible for the reconnection to their people. The happiness of their redemption wove itself within their lyrics. The joy of finding themselves worthy again rang sweet and clear in every note.

At the end of their song, Maedhros added something from deep inside his heart.  With Maglor's supporting refrain catching the wind as it rode out to sea, Maedhros' voice rose with a solitary prayer to the Valar. "Protect those I love."

Their song ended, the brothers stood together and silently made their way down the rocks to the path leading to the woods. It was time to return to the manor house. It was time to tell Ewan and Ailsa their plans.

- O -

Ailsa rose early to begin preparations for the dinner that night.  She had the marinade to mix for the chicken Fajitas and she needed to start making the tortillas.  The dinner had turned into a small party welcoming Maglor to Egla Tir and back to the family.  Ailsa hoped Mrs. Whitehall was in her normally good mood. The housekeeper had been disappointed at first when she found out the dinner wasn't going to be held in the dining hall. Once Ailsa explained that the large wooden table in the kitchen would be easier for her to serve and would give the whole dinner a warm family feeling, the housekeeper reluctantly agreed. 

She rushed down the stairs, but stopped abruptly in the kitchen doorway.  Mrs. Whitehall stood smiling by the wooden table watching Ailsa's surprised face. The crafty housekeeper had found a way to add a few touches of her own to the dinner. Ailsa's smile widened as she walked toward the table. A bright red tablecloth with matching napkins was neatly folded on one end of the table.  There were also beautiful pale green glass stemware, and Mrs. Whitehall had somehow managed to find festive stoneware with a pattern in various colors of bright blue, green, and orange with red swirls running around the boarder. 

"Mrs. Whitehall!" Ailsa exclaimed as she touched the glasses. "This is amazing. I can't believe it."  The housekeeper's reaction was to blush slightly.  "Well Miss, I figured I'd better stock up on some new crockery if there are going to be any more nights like tonight."  Ailsa gave the older woman a hug which only deepened the housekeeper's color and actually seemed to fluster her a bit.  "You're terrific," Ailsa smiled.  Mrs. Whitehall quickly cleared her throat in attempt to regain her composure and patted Ailsa's arm.  "Thank you. Now I think you need to go soak your chicken."   The two women chuckled and went about their business.

- O -

While Ailsa worked and joked with Mrs. Whitehall in the kitchen, down in the cave room Maedhros quietly stood beside Maglor as they watched Ewan's face.  The three had gone down to the cave room earlier to have a private talk.  Once there, they told Ewan their plans and now waited to hear his reaction.

Ewan had sat mutely at the small table while the brothers spoke. Their words whirled inside his head, and he could only look up at them in confused disbelief.  "I can't believe it."  Stunned, Ewan couldn't quite get his mind around it.  "I mean we've just begun to…," his voice cracked. "It's too soon." Ewan shook his head; he was finding it difficult to control his thoughts. "There's so much yet to accomplish," he said more to himself.  It wasn't just the work; one thought quickly became more dominant than all the rest.  Ewan couldn't conceive of an Egla Tir without Maedhros. No, it was just too impossible to even consider. He quickly searched each pair of grey eyes for any possibility he had misunderstood. 

Maedhros' heart ached to see how his announcement distressed Ewan. "I know it is very sudden, Ewan, but Maglor and I have to do this.  We will never know for sure unless we make the attempt," his voice almost pleaded. "Delay will not make it any easier."

Ewan took a deep breath and released it slowly. A great sadness continued to grow in his heart.  How was he supposed to look at this logically, when every emotion overshadowed his reason? Ewan smiled uneasily as he realized that he was trying to logically reason out his thoughts while two immortal Elves stood before him. His smile widened; logic didn't even enter into the equation.  He knew he would have to forget any arguments he had and just be happy for Maedhros and Maglor. Their suffering over the years was more than enough punishment for them.  Resigned to the inevitable, Ewan stood up with a smile on his lips. "Make the attempt?  Of course you must," he announced sincerely. "You've both been through enough.  Don't let my moment of selfishness stop you." He stepped around the table and took Maedhros' hand and shook it.  "I'm pleased for both of you."  Ewan honestly believed this, but he was still a little surprised when Maedhros put his arms around him and hugged him. 

Maglor watched Ewan's reaction.  At first, he wondered how Ewan would take their news.  As he shook Maedhros' hand announcing his support, Maglor felt great respect for his mortal kin. Here was a man who seemed deeply ensconced in his scholarly pursuits, and normally blind to everything outside his little world.  But Ewan had a good heart and a strong sense of right.  So strong in fact, that he was able to put aside his own feelings for the good of others.  Maglor offered his own hand, and shook Ewan's with genuine regard.  "I am pleased that you understand.  I only hope Ailsa will see it the same way." 

At the mention of Ailsa's name Maedhros and Ewan looked at each other with visible dread on both their faces. "Do you want me to tell her," Ewan finally asked.  Maedhros stood remembering the future he had once planned.  How much he anticipated the joy as he watched Ailsa's future unfold before him.  Now he had to let her know he wasn't going to be there. That he knew as much about her as he was ever going to know. Maedhros gently shook his head, how could he possibly find the words?  His shoulders fell as he realized this would ultimately have to be his burden.  "No, I will do it," he said sadly. "Somehow…I will tell her."

Maglor saw the anguish his brother was suffering and he did not envy him the task. "Do not tell her now.  She is working very hard on tonight's feast, and it would be a kindness to give her this night," Maglor offered. "Would it not be better to tell her in the morning?"  

"He has a point." Ewan quickly agreed. "Why ruin the last time we'll all be together." Maedhros' eyes snapped to Ewan's face.  Ewan suddenly felt foolish. "I mean… it just…" He fumbled his words.  Maedhros looked away. After a few moments, Maedhros slowly nodded and left the cave room. 

Maglor turned to Ewan.  "Shall we," he asked.  They quietly left the cave room and returned to the Archives. Maglor knew there were many questions Ewan had for him, and time would run out before they could all be answered.  Maglor would willingly give this time to him. It was his way of leaving something of his own legacy in the care of his brother's children and ultimately the future. No, the Eldar would not be forgotten. 

- O -

Mid-afternoon found Ailsa buttoning her jacket and wrapping her long scarf around her neck as she escaped through the backdoor of the house into the cold air.  She left the kitchen smelling of the sharpness of limes, and the aroma of cilantro and garlic from the marinated chicken.  Everything was ready for dinner, all the chopping, mixing, seasoning, and tortilla making was done.  What she wanted now was a quick walk in the fresh cool air.  She smiled as she walked remembering the unexpected helper who showed up.

Maedhros had come into the kitchen as she was deep into her preparations and immediately began to make a regular nuisance of himself. He asked all sorts of questions trying to satisfy his curiosity about every little detail of the process and watched every move she made.  She finally had to give him little tasks just to keep him out of her way.

Maedhros had led great armies, governed great numbers of people, fought in many battles, but that morning, he proved himself a very capable mixer with a wooden spoon.  She chuckled as she remembered how he had "allowed" her to put a white chef's apron on him to protect his clothes.  It was so strange to see him doing such menial jobs. Ailsa could tell by the way Mrs. Whitehall looked at him that this was a new side he was showing both of them. There was something else though; he seemed to have an unspoken need to be busy like that. Ailsa wondered about it for a while, but decided she was probably reading too much into his simple willingness to help with the preparations for the dinner honoring Maglor's return. 

He spent the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon "helping" her.  As they worked, they fell into easy conversation.  He even got her to tell him how she learned to make Fajitas at her grandfather's house.  How Maria, her grandfather's housekeeper, took pity on a bored teenager one afternoon and taught her to cook some Mexican dishes so she'd, as Maria promised, "be able to get a good husband one day."  "Papa" Errington was more practical, he had given his granddaughter lessons to assure she would always make the perfect Margarita.  Maedhros smiled as she explained the precise recipe, always a captive audience whenever she told any story. His pointed interest made her feel he actually enjoyed them.

As Ailsa finished the last of the tortillas, she caught Maedhros watching her again.  At first, she just smiled at what she thought was his unusual interest in tortillas, but she slowly came to realize as he sat at the table, he was watching her with an intense look in his eyes.  The rest of his face was impassive, but his eyes were locked on her.  A concerned frown brought her brows together.  Finally she asked, "Maedhros are you all right?" 

"Yes," he quickly answered lowering his eyes as he shifted slightly in his chair. "Daydreaming I guess." Ailsa couldn't tell if he was embarrassed or what, but the moment quickly passed and then he suddenly stood up. "I have almost forgotten.  I promised Ewan I would help him down in the Archives this afternoon.  I have to go."  With that announcement, he removed his apron and placed it neatly on the chair.  "Thank you for letting me…help.  I think tonight will be very special." He said with a slight bow and left.  Ailsa was a bit perplexed as she watched him leave the kitchen.  Finally, she gave a little shrug and resumed her preparations.

Everything was ready now and she had some time to herself before putting all the various ingredients together later.  Although the sun sparkled in the cloudless sky, and the slight breeze blowing through the garden felt good on her face, Ailsa shivered and began tucking her scarf into her jacket. Because of the heat in the kitchen, the gesture was more instinct than a true reaction to the cold.  She looked around for a moment, taking in the bright colored leaves hanging delicately on the tree branches and carpeting the lawn.  The crisp air had a moist, earthy tang to it.  The leaves weren't very thick on the ground yet, but she knew they would make that wonderful rustling sound she liked as she stepped through them.

She stood at the top of the garden steps and tried to decide if she should walk to the cliffs or if it would be better to venture to the clearing.  A sudden gust of colder air made her shiver again and she quickly decided to return to the house. In fact, Ailsa had to admit she felt an odd need to go back inside.  She quickly turned and began to walk around the sunny side of the manor house to the front door.  Once inside again, she removed her coat and walked straight to the library doors.  She opened them and stopped as soon as she heard the singing.

Coming from the darkness of the open bookcase, a beautifully sung tune filled the library. Ailsa quietly closed the library doors behind her and stood listening to the words. It was Maglor she heard, his haunting voice singing of family and home.  Ailsa, closing her eyes, let his song feed her contentment. His voice trailed away and she made her way down the steps to the Archives.  She paused at the bottom and looked at Maglor sitting at the desk in profile as he focused his attention on the small tape recorder in his hand.

He looked so much like Maedhros just then. A very masculine face, but with skin like polished alabaster.  She had seen ancient statues of male athletes that tried and failed to duplicate that same mixture of beauty and masculine power.  The statues merely suggested these qualities.  As she watched Maglor, she reckoned the ancient sculptors obviously used the wrong models.  Ailsa marveled at this strange, unearthly being sitting just a few feet away from her trying to figure out the buttons on her father's recorder.

Ailsa decided not to disturb him.  She turned and placed her foot on the first step. "Do not go Ailsa." Maglor called to her. "Please, join me."  

Caught in the act of retreating, she smiled sheepishly at Maglor.  "Okay," she quickly replied.   She walked over to the desk and sat on the edge holding out her hand.  Maglor sighed and gave her the tape recorder.  "I seem to have forgotten which button your father told me to push to start at the beginning." Maglor gentle smile reminded Ailsa of a little boy who was having trouble with a new toy.  She chuckled, "Don't feel bad Maglor.  I even get the buttons wrong on occasion." She began rewinding the tape and offered the recorder back to Maglor. 

"Maedhros has told me you have been working very hard on tonight's feast." He said good-naturedly as he took the device from her. 

"It just seems like a lot of work."  She smiled back. "It's actually just a lot of chopping and mixing. I've been cooped up in the kitchen for most of the day so I thought I'd take a break before I had to put everything together later."  Maglor looked at her for a moment then gave her a slight nod returning to the recorder.  He hit "play" and his song began again. After a while, he looked at Ailsa with a surprised look on his face. "Does my voice truly sound like that?" 

Ailsa laughed, "Close enough. That recorder is meant for dictation and notes." Maglor stopped the payback. "Maybe we can get some better equipment and show you how much closer to your true voice we can get," she offered.

"This will have to do for now." Maglor placed the recorder on the desk and he picked up a page covered in Elvish script.  "Your father wishes me to record some of our poetry as well" He began to silently read the writing. After a while, Ailsa felt a little awkward, as if she needed to say something.  "I'm glad you're helping, but don't let Dad monopolize all your time."  

Maglor smiled back at her. "I am honored to be able to help in your work.  It is time well spent."  With that, his attention returned to the poem.

A wry smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as Ailsa watched Maglor.  She focused on his hands as they held the paper…his ageless beautiful hands. The same long slender fingers and smooth backs that resembled Maedhros' hand.  

"Maglor? How did Maedhros lose his hand?"  The words came out before she realized she'd said them and immediately wished she could take them back. Solemnly, Maglor lowered the paper to the desk and began to stare at his hands. "You have not questioned Maedhros about this?" 

"No. I don't know why I haven't."  Ailsa glanced away; she knew that was a lie. She had wanted to ask Maedhros many times since finding out his secret, but something always stopped her.  Ultimately, she feared it might bring up too many painful memories to be added to the others Maedhros carried.  Judging by Maglor's reaction, she was beginning to regret she'd even asked him the question.

Maglor heard the discomfort in her voice. Ailsa still sat on the edge of the desk, but she did not look at him. It may not be his story to tell, but perhaps she should know it none the less.

"Maedhros has told you of Morgoth and the evil he had done. A terrible battle was fought between our armies with many dead on each side.  It was in this battle our father died.  Then Morgoth sent Maedhros a message that he was willing to acknowledge defeat.  He only awaited our terms and he even offered the surrender of a Silmaril.  We knew Morgoth was the lord of all liars and we did not believe him, but Maedhros had a plan." 

"He persuaded the rest of us to feign belief in Morgoth's lies and to meet his emissaries at the appointed place.  Our plan was to bring a large enough force and put an end to Morgoth's evil forever while still retrieving all the Silmarilli.  But each side had the same idea and brought bigger armies than agreed. During the fighting, Maedhros and his company were ambushed and all his men were slain.  By Morgoth's command, Maedhros was taken alive and brought to his stronghold.  We could not follow so we withdrew to fortify our own camp."  Maglor stopped as he remembered that fateful decision. The remaining brothers thought Maedhros lost to them, and to continue fighting was their only recourse. Maglor had reluctantly agreed with the others, but he still felt they had all betrayed Maedhros in his time of greatest need. His silence brought Ailsa's attention to his face.  She could see Maglor suffering as he sat trying to continue his tale, but she felt only anger rising as she tried to understand why they would leave Maedhros in the hands of such a monster.

"Morgoth held Maedhros hostage and sent us word that he would release him only if our people would forsake our war with him and leave.  Whatever we chose to do, we knew Morgoth would never release Maedhros."  Maglor's face darkened. "We were also held back by our Oath you see, and could not for any reason forsake our war against our enemy as long as he had the Silmarilli. Angered by our refusal, Morgoth took Maedhros, encased his right wrist in a thick band of steel and hung him from the face of a precipice on the mountain, Thangorodrim."  Ailsa winced at the thought of Maedhros in pain. 

"Morgoth then fouled the very air around Thangorodrim with poisonous gases and rank smoke that even hid the sun.  So when we did search, no one could find Maedhros."

"I would have tried harder," Ailsa whispered. "Nothing would have kept me from trying." Suddenly, she no longer wanted to know the rest of the story, but she was powerless to stop Maglor now.

"Someone felt as you do. Our cousin, Fingon, who was also Maedhros' closest friend, did not let our failure stop him. He set out alone using the darkness that Morgoth made to help him search unseen among all our enemies waiting on the mountain.  He searched for a very long time, but he could not find any sign of Maedhros anywhere. Finally, in spite of the danger of Orcs and other foul beasts discovering him, Fingon took out his harp and sang a song of Valinor known to all our people.  Through that dark land where only despair was known, his voice rang like a clear bell."

"Suddenly, far above him, Fingon heard his song faintly taken up by a familiar voice. You see, even in his pain, Maedhros found the strength to sing back to him.  Fingon quickly climbed up as far as he could only to find himself at the very foot of the precipice without a way to climb any further.  He began to weep when he saw how Maedhros hung so cruelly so far out of his reach.  Maedhros, now in great anguish and without any hope left, begged Fingon to kill him with one of his arrows.  Reluctantly, Fingon drew his bow and prayed that his arrow would end Maedhros' torment. To his surprise, Thorondor, one of the Great Eagles, appeared and stopped him before he could loose his arrow."

"This Lord of Eagles flew Fingon to the face of the rock where Maedhros was bound. But try as he might, he could not release Maedhros' wrist.  My brother again, begged Fingon to kill him…to release him from his suffering.  Fingon then made a fateful decision and cut off Maedhros' hand at the wrist to free him.  The eagle bore them both home. Maedhros did recover, but the shadow of what he suffered sits within his heart to this day."  Maglor stopped and quietly watched Ailsa. 

Ailsa listened to Maglor with her head bent, eyes staring at the floor. The idea of Maedhros' torture quickly filled her with thoughts of revenge.  How I'd love to get my hands on that bastard Morgoth, she fumed.  Just as quickly, she realized the foolishness of that thought.  What could she have done to such dark evil?   She became aware of Maglor watching her.

"Thank you for telling me, Maglor." She said softly. "When we first met him, Maedhros noticed how we looked at his covered wrist.  He told us he lost his hand in a mountain climbing accident. Obviously, he understated the events."  Pictures of Maedhros' agony still filled her mind. 

"We did not speak of his ordeal for a long time, but I knew he would recover.  And through much practice, he became an excellent swordsman with his other hand."  Maglor added slowly. It was now Ailsa's turn to be silent.  She closed her eyes, and tried to understand the solace Maglor's words were expected to give her.  Maedhros suffered unimaginable pain and she was supposed to be happy he was able to re-educate his left hand so he could continue to fight in that foul place called Middle-earth. She decided there was nothing that could induce her to ever want to live there.  Let alone pine away for it as Maedhros and Maglor did. She glanced over at Maglor and their eyes locked.  His expression softened, he knew what was going through her mind. "Ailsa, Middle-earth was a world of harsh reality, but it was so much more.  It was a place of great splendor and magic.  A world where we gladly lived the life Iluvatar gave us.  Yes, we battled evil and faced the despair from our oath, but we fought on, because ultimately, there is always hope."  Ailsa watched his eyes shine with longing as he spoke. "More importantly…it was the world where Maedhros and I belonged."  He fell silent, his face unreadable. 

Ailsa sighed, it was a beautiful thought, but she couldn't agree with him.  She stood up as Maglor continued to sit deep in thought.  "Whatever, Maglor," she shrugged. "You can keep your Middle Earth.  It still sounds like a horrible place to me." Walking over to the stairs, she wondered if Maglor's tale was what made her come back into the house.  Well, she had heard it and she quickly climbed the stairs and retrieved her coat from the front hall. Now she really needed some fresh air.

Once outside again, she looked at the expanse of lawn and began to walk. It didn't matter where she went; she just had to get away from the manor house. Her footsteps quickened as she tried to push down the anger inside her. Anger for the pain Maedhros suffered and anger because Maglor and he still missed Middle-earth. Ailsa broke into a run and kept running until finally her lungs began to burn.  She stopped and bent over slightly as she tried to catch her breath. "Dammit," she yelled between deep pulls of air. "They belong here!" 

To be continued Chapter 9, Part 2 – Maedhros' End.

Chapter Text

The smell of spices and cooking chicken filled the nostrils of the dinner guests as they entered the kitchen that evening.  The three males stood just inside the door smiling as they looked at the transformed kitchen.  Before Mrs. Whitehall left for the day, she had decorated the large kitchen table with the new linens and dishes.  She put small candles on the table and arranged some curled ribbons around the Lazy Susan centerpiece.  Ailsa was busy mixing the first batch of Margaritas in a blender as the men admired the results of Mrs. Whitehall's work.  Looking over her shoulder, she smiled. "Please come in.  Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. But first, let's have some of this."  She poured the pale green slush into four salt-rimmed glasses.

She handed each of them a glass and took one for herself.  Maedhros and Maglor looked suspiciously at the frozen concoction in their glasses, but willingly breathed in the inviting smell of limes from the mixture.  Ewan caught Ailsa's eye and smiled.  Ailsa raised her glass, "Let me make the first toast of tonight's celebration."  The others raised their glasses.  "To Maglor, son of Feanor, once lost…now happily back with his family. Welcome to Egla Tir, Maglor" She smiled and took a drink from her glass.

"Here, here." Ewan replied and then did the same.  Maedhros nodded, and drank.  Maglor seemed embarrassed at the attention he received but slowly brought his glass to his lips and took a sip.  Ewan seemed surprised as he tasted his drink.  Cool and refreshing, but there was a definite underlying kick to it.  The others had similar reactions.  Both Maedhros and Maglor's eyes widened as they drank.  Ewan cleared his throat and looked at Ailsa.  "Papa Errington," he asked.  Ailsa began to laugh.  "Who else?"  She smiled mischievously. 

"This is very refreshing." Maedhros offered, "I do not think I have had anything quite like it before."  He smiled and took another drink.  Maglor seemed a little confused as he inspected the rim of his glass.  "What is the significance of the salted rim?"  Ailsa licked some salt from her glass and smiled.  "It cuts the Tequila a little."

"Tequila is a potent liquor made from a Mexican cactus plant." Ewan quickly explained.  He shot Ailsa a wary look.  "Maybe you should be less generous with it in the next batch, Ailsa."  He took another drink.

Ailsa put her glass down and directed the men to the table.  As the guest of honor, she had Maglor sit at the head and placed her father and Maedhros on either side.  Her guests refused to sit until she joined them at the other end; a gesture she found rather sweet. She quickly took the warmed tortillas out of the oven and placed them on a flat basket she had lined with a large cloth towel. She then emptied the sizzling Fajita mixture into a chaffing dish and placed it into its stand on the table, making sure the sterno was lit to keep it warm.  There were small bowls of sour cream, homemade salsa, black beans, onions, chopped jalapenos and guacamole positioned on the Lazy Susan. The waiting guests looked at the finished dinner with hungry anticipation.  Everything was ready, and as she refilled their glasses, Ailsa found she enjoyed their eagerness.

There was a short instruction on how to assemble a proper Fajita.  Ailsa sat back and watched her pupils' progress with great amusement.  Maglor folded his tortilla with great determination.  Ailsa had made it seem so easy, but he had a problem keeping the chicken mixture from falling out the other end. Maedhros' attempt was better, but it still ended with the same result.  Ailsa tried not to laugh, but it was hard. Their Elvish dignity seemed to have forsaken them at that precise moment.  All the maneuvering was forgotten once they took their first bite.  Their eyes reflected complete approval of the wonderful tastes they were experiencing.  Such flavor, all the various spices, and even the slight crunch of the vegetables was a symphony of tastes to appreciate and enjoy. With their mouths full, the brothers nodded their approval.  Ewan only winked his satisfaction as he took another bite.  Ailsa was satisfied. 

Once everyone had been eating for a while, the stories began.  Simply things…stories of past feasts and parties.  Maedhros and Maglor began telling tales from their childhood; silly little things that made them all laugh.  Ewan told more "Ailsa" stories…and she blushed accordingly.  When Ailsa got up to clear the table, they refused to let her do it alone.  She smiled knowing Mrs. Whitehall would find a clean kitchen when she arrived the next morning. 

Another blender full of Margarita's was made, as were the promised instructions to Maedhros on how to do it.  They sat at the table enjoying just being with each other.  After Ewan told a particularly funny story of his college days, while the others were laughing, Ailsa looked at her father, then the brothers.  She felt her heart swell with the happiness and affection she felt for them.  Yes, even for Maglor.  He was a sweet loving brother to Maedhros, and she saw the regard he had for her father.  She also knew that it would take time, but he would come to call Egla Tir home.

Maglor raised his hand just then, quieting the laughter and turned to Ailsa as he raised his glass. "I think it is time that we toast our very capable hostess."  They all stood.  "To Ailsa…for her efforts in making this wonderful feast."   Maedhros and Ewan raised their glasses, "To Ailsa!"  They all took a deep drink.

Ailsa blushed.  Ewan sat down and patted her hand.  "You've done a wonderful job, sweetie."  This deepened the color on her cheeks.  She looked at Maedhros who smiled back.  "You should be proud of the results from all your hard work."  Now, she was completely embarrassed.  "Thank you all for your wonderful words of praise.  I wanted to welcome Maglor to Egla Tir and to let him know his family is here for him."  Ailsa rose and lifted her glass.  "To the House of Feanor." 

The others immediately rose and raised their glasses.  "To the House of Feanor," they said in unison.  Maglor and Maedhros eyes shone as they spoke.  Maglor then began to sing.  His beautiful voice filled the kitchen with its splendor. The Elvish words he sang only added to the magic of his voice. Maedhros, recognizing the tune, joined him.  For the first time, Ailsa was able to hear their two voices clearly without distance or interference to hinder her full appreciation.  Their voices, though different in timber, sang in one glorious harmony.  The words themselves were woven into a fabric of sounds that were felt rather than heard. Feelings of happiness and thoughts of joy echoed in her mind. Exquisite beyond imagining their song not only caressed her ears, but touched every part of her soul.  She found her breathing becoming rapid and she had to sit down before her knees gave way.  Ewan sat down as well with a look of wonder written all over his face as he listened.  The brothers stood facing each other as a soft glow seemed to surround them as they sang. 

Much too soon the song ended and there was silence in the kitchen.  Ailsa wanted to clap her approval, but found she couldn't move. The singers raised their glasses once more and made a silent toast.  A moment later, they remembered the others.  "Forgive us, Ewan…Ailsa."  Maedhros apologized.  "Maglor and I were singing a song of ancient days in Aman."

Maglor wore a soft smile as he watched Ailsa and her father.  If their faces were any indication, the song had touched them deeply.  Ewan was the first to find his voice.  "That was the most incredible thing I've ever heard."  Ailsa swallowed breaking the spell she was under.  "That was amazing," was all she could get out.  The brothers smiled and sat down, pleased that the others liked their song.

"Can all Elves sing like that?"  Ewan's face was filled with boyish wonder as he asked his question.

"Music is a large part of our being."  Maglor explained. 

"Well, we'll have to record as many of your songs as you can remember."  Ailsa announced.

"They'll be a welcome addition to the histories."  Ewan added quickly and then regretted saying it.  He looked at the brothers imploringly hoping Ailsa hadn't noticed.

Maedhros cleared his throat.  "We will talk about that later.  Let us have some more of your marvelous Margaritas and maybe a song or two more." His eyes began sparkling with impish delight.  Turning his attention directly at Ailsa, he pointed his finger. "And you tithen min, you will learn all the words."  Ailsa laughed as she got up and walked over to the blender.

A couple of batches of Margaritas and a few Elvish songs later, Ewan and Maglor were finishing the clean-up in the kitchen.  Maedhros walked Ailsa to the grand stairway.   They stopped and he laid his hand on her shoulder. "It has been a wonderful night, Ailsa.  Thank you again for making it so," he said a wisp of a smile on his lips.  Ailsa sighed and smiled back warmly.  "I just made the dinner; we all made it a wonderful night."

Maedhros gently squeezed her shoulder hesitant to let her go.  Ailsa brought her hand up and touched his forearm. "Goodnight Maedhros."  She turned and began to climb the stairs to her room. Maedhros watched her as she disappeared through the doorway bringing an end to the warm happiness he had felt all evening.  For a short time, he was able to forget what was going to happen. Now, he suddenly felt cold as he stood in the empty hall. He started to walk back to the kitchen as dread of the coming morning began to fill his heart.

- O -

Surprisingly, Ailsa woke up the next morning without a headache despite the previous night's consumption of Margaritas.  Too excited to sleep, she had snuggled under her covers listening to the wind and the night noises for a while.  The evening had gone really well.  The future looked bright for the House of Feanor now they were all together, and that promise lingered in the back of her mind as she finally drifting into a peaceful slumber.  She still had the same feeling of light heartedness when she woke in the early dawn.  No troubling dreams had plagued her sleep during the night, and she was looking forward to the new day. 

She decided a fresh pot of coffee sounded just right so she quickly showered and dressed. Mrs. Whitehall and the staff wouldn't arrive for a while, so the house was quiet except for the echo of her footsteps on the stairs as she made her way down to the hall.  The door to the library was ajar and she decided someone must have risen even earlier than she had and was down in the Archives.  She stopped short as she opened the door. Maedhros stood facing her silhouetted in front of the windows, the early morning light barely lighting the sky outside.  Even in this dim light, Ailsa could see as he was still wearing the clothes from the previous night.  He couldn't have been up all night? She wondered.

Although he stood very still, his arms at his sides, his eyes eagerly searched her face.  She couldn't help feeling he had been waiting for her.  "Good morning, Maedhros."  She tried to sound cheery. 

"Good morning, Ailsa." He replied, his voice low and controlled.  The cheerfulness drained from her as she heard the flat tone of his words.  Something was wrong.  "Haven't you been to bed yet," she asked.

"I could not rest, so I came here to think."  He turned his eyes away from her intense gaze. The concern he saw in her face made him feel a coward and his resolve began to splinter.  How could he tell her?  He had tried to find the right words all night, but still he could not find any that he knew would not stick in his throat the moment he tried to say them to her. 

"Maedhros…what's wrong?" Ailsa asked as she tried to control her growing apprehension.  Maedhros' shoulders sagged, his eyes returned to her face.  "I must talk to you." He couldn't keep the sadness from filling his voice as he spoke.   "Come…sit with me."  He sat on the window seat and indicated with his hand she should sit next to him.  

She was almost afraid to sit down.  What could he possibly have to say to her that filled his eyes with such misery and now her heart with such dread?  He took her hand, entwining their fingers.  She watched as he placed their hands on his chest.  They rose and fell with each breath he took.  She could feel his heart beating against the back of her hand, slow and steady, but his eyes were dark and filled with foreboding.  "Maedhros, what is it?  You're beginning to scare me."

Ailsa's words implored him to tell her what he found so hard to say.  Maedhros searched deep within himself for the courage to go on. He let out a ragged sigh and held her hand tighter.  "Tithen min, this is very hard for me to say…to you." 

 
Ailsa's eyes widened as she watched his lips form the words that sent waves of disbelief through her.  She could only stare, unable to comprehend the words he was saying.  Words she didn't want to hear.  No! Her mind protested. No! No! No!  She began to shake her head back and forth as if the mere act could dislodge the words from her ears. She heard her own voice echo in her head as it shouted.  He's leaving! Maedhros and Maglor are leaving! 
 

She felt her chest tighten, it became painful to breathe. She had to get as far away from this conversation as possible.  As she began to stand, hot tears filled her eyes as she heard herself repeating "No."  Maedhros still held her hand fast as he tried to make her understand.  "Ailsa, we have to try.  This is what we have longed for, what we have all hoped for so long."

"It's too soon. Why do you have to leave now?" She heard herself say the words, had she said them?  She pulled her hand from his and raised her arm in front of her as she tried to protect herself from what Maedhros was saying. Her mouth began to move, but was unable to say the "No!" that now stuck in her throat. 

Maedhros' face was a mask of anguish.  As he heard the pain in Ailsa's voice, he prayed for the strength to make her understand.  "We can not wait any longer…we have to go. You have convinced us that forgiveness can be ours.  If we do not try, we will never know if we are truly welcome in the Blessed Realm."

Ailsa cleared her throat, hoping it would help her speak.  "B…but why now?  We've had such a short time with you," she tried to reason with him.  "Try in a month…or a year even.  Dad and I still don't know everything we need to run Egla Tir. And the histories are far from being complete."  She desperately searched for the right words, the right phrase, anything to make him change his mind.  She tried hard, but it was impossible.  "Please," she begged finally.  Maedhros stared back at her unable to answer as her simple plea tore through him.  Ailsa turned away unable to look him in the face any longer.  Maedhros quickly took her hand again and stood as if by shear will, he could make her understand.  Ailsa watched him take her hand, but it did little to help her disbelief. How can this be happening? She kept asking herself. She paused and remembered the night before. Just last night… Suddenly she straightened and pulled her hand away hard; suspicion began replacing the tears in her eyes.

"Did you know you were leaving last night?" She asked coldly.

Maedhros saw the growing anger and hurt in her eyes, but knew he could not lie to her. "Yes, we did."

Ailsa felt each word as it struck her. "You mean to tell me…you sat there last night while my father and I made fools of ourselves." She slowly backed away as she spoke.  "All the time knowing that it was our last…"  She couldn't finish the sentence.

"Maglor and I told Ewan yesterday afternoon.  He understands we have to do this."  Ailsa's eyes opened wider as she realized she had been the only fool at the table last night.  "Well, that's just fine then!" She shot back at him, and ran out of the library into the hall and up the staircase.  She heard her father's voice call her name as she reached for the doorknob of her room.  She froze for a moment then whirled around.  Ewan stood at the top of the stairs on his side of the gallery, deep concern covering his face.  "Ailsa, I…"  He began. 

"Don't you dare 'Ailsa' me. How could you know and not say a word to me?"  Ailsa shot the accusation at him as she tried to blink back the angry tears spilling over onto her cheeks.  She quickly turned and entered her bedroom slamming the door behind her.  She didn't want an answer. 

Ewan winced at the sound of the slamming door and its echo in the hall. He stared down at his hand as it gripped the railing unable to think of what to do to help his daughter.  They had made a big mistake not letting her know sooner. He realized that now.  He began his decent wondering how he could possibly fix this mess. Just then Maedhros slowly came up the main stairs.  His body rigid, a stiff reflection of the pained look on his face.  He didn't acknowledge Ewan's presence as he passed him, but continued up the side stairs and into his own room closing the door quietly behind him.  Ewan sighed as he stood there, his legs suddenly feeling too heavy to move.  He sat down on the step. This was not going to be an easy day for any of them.

- O -

No one saw Ailsa for the rest of the morning. Ewan had gone to her room only to find it empty.  As he stood there, he tried to think where she could have gone.  He had to find her…she had to say her good-byes to the brothers.  He knew his daughter.  If she missed their departure because she was stubbornly nursing her hurt feelings somewhere, she'd regret it all her life.  She had to let Maedhros go…and she had to understand why. 

Maedhros stayed in his room, and Ewan didn't know where to even begin to look for Ailsa. It was Maglor who came to him in the library and offered to look for her.  "She could be anywhere," Ewan told him. 

"I will find her." He said confidently and left Ewan staring after him.

- O -

Ailsa walked for hours not caring where her steps lead her.  Her bedroom had begun to feel like a prison after she had cried out most her feelings of anger and betrayal…and yes, grief. Rinsing her face in cold water helped, but she knew she couldn't stay in her room all day.  Besides it wouldn't be long before someone would try to talk to her, and she didn't want to talk anymore.  Let them talk to each other, they're good at that. 

She finally stopped and looked around as the cold wind whipped around her body. She looked down and recognized the open-air theatre where she had first found out Maedhros' secret. The theatre was empty so she slowly went down to the far circular point where he had sat while the sun set.  A sharp pain seized her as she remembered how their bonding had changed everything.  He had let her see into his soul and experience a life beyond her own. He had touched her world and it was different because of him. Now, she had to face her world, but without Maedhros in it.  How could she ever go back to life the way it was? She lowered her head and let out a low groan.  So many conflicting feelings, all trying to make themselves heard.

Memories of their discussions about the Shimmer and the Silmarilli rose in her mind.  Wasn't this what they had hoped would happen?  What Maedhros deserved…to finally be able to go home? She gently kicked the wall with her foot, "I wish I'd never thrown that damn Silmaril at him," she whispered.  She closed her eyes and shook her head. No, I'm not going to cry again. Her anger only rose as she tried to forbid any more tears.  How could he decide to leave without telling me sooner? Gripping the top of the stone wall, she began to watch the rolling waves make their way to shore.  Why are they leaving today?

Maglor recognized Ailsa's small figure as he topped the cliff overlooking the theatre.  He could feel her ragged frustration as he watched the poor girl clutch at the stone wall before her. His first impulse was to rush down to her, but he waited. He would give her a moment. He wanted to make sure she would accept his help.  

Ailsa breathed in the cold sea air, and hoped it would some how fill the sudden emptiness she was feeling.  She lowered her head, and leaned on the wall trying to steady herself.  She missed Maedhros already and she didn't know how to stop the pain of it. 

Maglor came down the stone steps and stopped a few feet behind Ailsa. He had to brace himself as he felt the waves of sadness radiating from her. She is so young. They feel everything so deeply, he told himself. Tenderness softened his face as he recognized so much of his brother in this young one.  Memories of Maedhros' passionate nature filled his mind.  Of all his brothers, Maedhros was the one whose emotions were the most intense.  He understood now the deep affection that had developed so quickly between Maedhros and this girl.  They were as two sides of the same coin in many ways.  He had seen snatches of this during the short time he had been at Egla Tir.  Now he also felt regret that there wouldn't be any more time to get to know her better.  Right now, however, he needed to help her understand.

"Ailsa…" He said.   Her head shot up; Ailsa recognized Maglor's voice, but refused to turn.  "What the hell do you want?"  She shot back at him over her shoulder.

"I have come to help you."  He stated plainly.

Ailsa couldn't believe it.  Maglor actually thought she wanted his help.  She turned around quickly, glaring at him.  "I think you've done quite enough." She spat the words at him.  "Maedhros wouldn't be going if it weren't for you."  Her eyes narrowed as she spoke.  She needed to blame someone…anyone.

Maglor calmly looked at her; he made no move to leave.  Her mouth twisted into a sarcastic sneer.  "Why don't you just go to hell?"  Ailsa turned and tried to focus on the sea again hoping he'd get the hint and leave.  Instead he moved closer. 

"Maedhros and I are in hell."  Maglor replied.  His voice echoed in Ailsa's ears as the meaning of his words came thundering home.  She was drowning in a pool of conflicting emotions.  Remembering all the regrets she felt from Maedhros, the guilt that overshadowed his life, the despair that weighed so heavily on his soul...and now finally, there was a sliver of hope.  She knew Maglor was right. Damn him, he was right!

Childish anger gave way to a deep sadness trying to fight its way to the surface. How could she still feel so empty with all these feelings whirling around inside her? She just wanted it to stop. Her shoulders slowly fell as the rest of her body waited. She was startled as she felt Maglor strong hands take hold of her upper arms and guide her to one of stone seats.  He positioned himself next to her, one arm wrapped around her shoulders for support.  He said nothing, just waited and watched her.  For what seemed like a long time, Ailsa stared vacantly at the ground below her feet unable to raise her eyes. 

Taking his other hand, he placed it under Ailsa's chin and lifted it until their gaze met. His mouth softened into an unconscious smile as he saw how easily the regret shone in her eyes. "I am sorry that you are so distressed, Ailsa. Please do not feel anger towards Maedhros. It was at my suggestion that he did not tell you until this morning. I thought last night's feast would be a memory we could hold in our hearts always. And I was right."  Ailsa felt hot tears welling up in her eyes again; she pressed her lips together as she struggled to keep some kind of control.  "Maedhros and I would never purposely cause you pain. But we must go home," he continued. "It is time."

That was all Ailsa could take. Her face fell as tears cascaded down her cheeks. Maglor moved his arm around her shoulders bringing her closer. Her own arms came up and clung desperately to Maglor's slender middle as she buried her face into his chest. Even Maglor's Elvish ears could barely make out the muffled "I'm sorry" she sobbed into the material of his suit jacket.  He knew she was sorry.  She hadn't understood, letting her needs obscure the simple truth of the miracle that was going to come to pass. He gently drew her closer as she continued to cry. His heart also broke for her, because now…she did understand.

After a while, her sobs ceased, but still she held on to him.  He had become her anchor, as she tried to build her resolve.  Maglor wouldn't let go, not while she still needed his comfort.  Eventually, Ailsa let out a deep sigh and gently pulled away.  He held her hand in his as they sat side by side in the early afternoon sun.   Ailsa didn't know how long they sat there.  The feel of Maglor's hand in hers seemed to give her the strength she badly needed.  His silent comfort helped to make her come to terms with what had to happen.

As if reading her thoughts, Maglor stood up and gently helped Ailsa to her feet.  She still held on to his hand as they climbed the stones stairs to the cliff top. He continued this kindness as they walked wordlessly back to the manor house.  Not until they stood in front of the opened doorway of her bedroom did he release her hand.  Ailsa had relied on his strength during the walk home, and now as she stood facing his concerned eyes, she knew that she would have to stand on her own once more.

His grey eyes widen slightly as she reached up and hugged him.  "Thank you," she whispered.  Turning, she went into her room and closed the door quietly behind her.  Maglor nodded absently as he started down the stairs. 

- O -

Ewan and Maglor stood in the hallway waiting for Maedhros.  Ewan prayed Ailsa would make an attempt to come down and say good-bye to the brothers before they left.  Her last memory of Maedhros must not be the scene in the library.  He worried that she could still be nursing her anger and feelings of betrayal.  Maglor hadn't been any help when he returned.  All Maglor would say was he'd found her and she was up in her room, never indicating her state of mind. 

Maedhros had stayed in his room most of the day, not even coming down for luncheon.  Mrs. Whitehall felt something was up. No one had come to lunch, and her face was a mixture of curiosity and concern when Ewan told her no one would be there for dinner.  She didn't ask any questions, but she could feel something wasn't right. 

Maglor worked with Ewan in the Archives until, as if sensing it, he abruptly stood and informed Ewan, "It is time."  Ewan looked frantically around his desk to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything.  He quickly rummaged through the piles of notes he had made.  Finally, Maglor reached out and touched his arm.  "Ewan, it is time."  He said solemnly.  Ewan felt stupid, as if answering one more of his questions would delay what was going to happen.  It was time for him to face his own dread of the coming sunset.  Dropping his pen in the middle of the papers, he got up and followed Maglor up the stairs to the library.

Maglor went up to Maedhros and was back a few minutes later.  That was half an hour ago.  The only words that passed between them were Maglor's announcement, "Maedhros will be ready soon."  So they stood in the hallway waiting, Maglor standing with his arms at his sides wearing his Elvish composure like a cloak. As usual, Ewan watched the tops of shoes, but he couldn't help glancing up every now and then at Ailsa's bedroom door.  Hoping against hope it would open.  The only door that opened, however, was Maedhros'.  He stopped at the top of the stairway and gave Ailsa's door a quick glance. He straightened his shoulders and proceeded down the stairs.  As he stepped in front of the great window, he turned and looked at it one more time. He read the Elvish words carved so beautifully at the bottom, "May It Be as The Valar Wishes." He prayed that it was true.

Just then, Ailsa's door opened and she came out dressed in her jacket and scarf.  Maedhros turned and his face broke into a smile as he saw her standing at the top of the stairs.  Her eyes were a little red, and her mouth was trying hard to smile through pressed lips, but he was overjoyed to see her.   

Ailsa almost lost her resolve when she saw him.  He stood rod straight, his hair was unbound and he was wearing the same Midnight blue suit he'd worn when she first met him in Berkeley. She swallowed and tried to steel herself as she walked down to him.  Maedhros felt great sadness as he watched her.  His hand reached up and touched the side of her face.  "Tithen min…" he said.  Ailsa shook her head.  "If you start talking to me like that, I won't be able to do this," she pleaded.   Maedhros' eyes shone as he offered her his arm.  They joined Maglor and Ewan. Her father gave her a quick smile; he understood what it took for her to do this.  Maglor bowed slightly to her, his hand on his chest.  Ailsa quickly acknowledged him as she walked with Maedhros.  Silently the little band left the hall and made their way outside to the garden.

Ailsa tried hard not to look at Maedhros as they walked through the woods.  She bit her lip as she fought the urge to run away with him in tow.  Silly thoughts of tying him to a tree until she could make him change his mind kept popping up.  Finally, she had to come to terms with the inevitable; she just held his arm a little tighter.  Too soon the sound of the sea was heard through the trees.  Has this walk always been so short, she wondered.  Before she was ready, they stood on the cliff top.  All four gazed down at the beach below.  Maglor's boat was safely moored high on the sand near the path.  The tide was out and the sun had begun to slowly glide down to the edge of the sea.  The wind was coming off the shore so the sky was clear, except for some sparse clouds forming just above the horizon.

Maedhros took Ailsa's hand and guided her down to the beach with Maglor and Ewan close behind.  Ailsa looked back and saw her father make his way down the sandy path.  His face was set in a kind of stony acceptance.  Maglor's eyes smiled back at her, lending her some needed reassurance.  Her nerves though threadbare still held fast.  They reached the bottom of the path and Maedhros still held her hand as they walked onto the beach.  With the tide out, the waves waited for them many yards from shore.  Ailsa eyes were drawn to the horizon framed by the two giant arches of red rock standing in the deeper swells.  Standing as a gateway to the brilliant golden disc moving closer to the waiting length of misty clouds that lay just above the sea.

As they stood next to Maglor's boat, Maedhros reluctantly let go of her hand.  Maglor nimbly climbed into the boat and took a quick inventory to make sure everything was still in order.  It was then that Ailsa realized the brothers didn't have any luggage. "Aren't you taking anything with you," she asked.  Maedhros stood silently his back to her, but Maglor answered for them both. "We will have everything we need once we get to Aman" He tried to hide the joy in his words, but his heart had begun to sing with anticipation.  "Oh." Was all Ailsa could reply.

Maglor jumped out of the boat and stood before Ailsa.  He reached out and held her at arms length.  His eyes filled with pride as he watched her trying so hard to be brave.  "Ailsa, you have been a wonderful surprise," he smiled. "I take with me your easy acceptance of a stranger and your constant devotion to our cause.  "No vaidech galen a malthen."  He brought his forehead down and gently touched hers.  Ailsa smiled weakly at him. "Navaer Maglor. Thank you for everything."  Maglor nodded knowingly.

Maglor then turned to Ewan who extended his hand. Maglor quickly took it in his. "It has been a pleasure knowing you, Maglor."  Ewan's voice was a little shaky. "Galu."

Maglor smiled as he shook Ewan's hand, "I too am pleased that I was able to know you, Ewan.  I pray to the Valar to watch over your journey through this world. Navaer Ewan." 

Maedhros stood facing the sea. Ailsa move closer to him. "Maedhros?" She barely whispered.  Her voice suddenly sounded so small to him.  If she only knew how hard he was trying to summon the courage to face her for the last time.  She was trying so hard to be strong; her sadness was too deep not to be felt by him.  Maglor caught his eye and silently implored him to turn around. As he turned, the words of farewell stuck in his throat nearly choking him as he looked at her.  All he wanted was for her to realize how important she was to him.  Of all the generations of his children, she had been the one who had touched his heart the deepest. Now, he had to say good-bye to her.  "Tithen min…"  He began.  Ailsa's pressed her lips together even tighter knowing she wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. He took her hand in his and placed it above his heart. "How can I say what knowing you has meant to me."  Tears slid down his face. 

Ailsa drew in a quick breath.  "I don't want you to go!" She sobbed and threw her arms around his neck.  Maedhros' arms quickly came up and held her. "I know," he whispered close to her ear. "I love you so much my bright shining girl." He stepped back and taking her hand, turned it palm up.  He then slipped his hand into his pocket and brought out something and placed it in the middle of her hand. Ailsa blinked back tears as she tried to focus on Maedhros' hairclip.  "I made this for Elizabeth long ago.  I think she would want you to have it now." His voice shook as he closed her fingers around the gold and silver trees.

Ailsa looked up at Maedhros. "I will always treasure it."

"As I will always treasure you." He smiled and brushed the backs of his fingers along her tear-streaked cheek.  "Navaer tithen min."  Ailsa began to cry again and he held her in his arms one last time.

The wind changed direction, and the sound of the waves drew closer as the tide started to come in.  Ewan came up to Maedhros and cleared his throat. It was time for the brothers to leave.  Reluctantly, he and Ailsa parted.  Ewan put his arm around the sobbing Ailsa, and his eyes gazed at the magnificent Elf standing before them.  Maedhros looked at father and daughter and deftly wiped the tears from his face.  "I do not know what to say to you Ewan."  He voice was heavy with emotion.  Ewan swallowed, "Then my dear Maedhros, you needn't say anything."  Maedhros touched the side of Ewan's face.  "I know I leave Egla Tir in good hands. Navaer Ewan." He turned to join Maglor at the boat. 

Ailsa watched as they dragged the boat to the water.  She wondered if they should lend a hand, but the brothers' combined Elvish strength was all that was needed.  Once in the water they gracefully jumped into the boat and began to row out to sea.  "Let's go to the cliff and watch.  We'll have a better view up there."  Ewan said.  Ailsa broke away from her father and raced up the pathway. Once standing near the edge, she frantically searched the water for the small boat.  The sun had settled into the misty cloudbank nestled on the horizon.  Shafts of golden light shown through the clouds and onto the water below. The sky above was now a palette of various shades of pale pinks and golds.  It was a soft welcoming sky. The golden reflection of the setting sun on the water made it difficult to make anything out. 

Suddenly…there!  There it was, but she saw no movement of oars. They had raised the sail, and the brothers sat near the bow.  Ailsa couldn't believe it; no one was steering the boat.  The vessel seemed to be drifting, but in a straight path directly toward the horizon.  It grew smaller and smaller as it headed for the edge of her world.

Maedhros and Maglor watched, their hearts filling with unbelievable joy.  The mist was opening; they could see in the distance the white shores of Aman. They still could not believe it. The boat was being sailed by unseen but sure hands taking them safely through the mists. Maedhros then pulled out of his pocket the only thing he had taken with him from Egla Tir.  The little wooden bird still looked as if she was ready to take flight; time hadn't destroyed the soft carved feathers of her wings or the tilt of her head. His fingers closed gently around his tithen aiwe. Soon they would be home. Maedhros turned and looked back for a moment knowing Ailsa and Ewan would be watching from the cliff.  Farewell my precious ones.

Ewan had joined her on the cliff and they stood close together. Ailsa took hold of her father's arm hoping to steady herself.  She stared with a mixture of hope and dread as the boat made its way toward the opening mists. It continued to sail true, but just before the boat disappeared completely, Ailsa felt Maedhros turn and knew he saw them standing on the cliff and knew he was thinking of them.  The next moment, the boat was gone.

"They made it!" Ewan announced happily as he dabbed his eyes with his handkerchief.  Ailsa turned her tear stained face to him, she didn't know what to say. Ewan looked at her and sighed.  "We had to let him go, sweetie."  He tried to comfort them both with the thought. 

"I know," she said lowering her eyes. "What do we do now, Dad?" Ailsa lower lip began to tremble.

Ewan put his arm around Ailsa's shoulders and she looked at him.  "I guess we do the only thing we can do." He swallowed hard. "Miss him."  Ailsa buried her head in her father's shoulder.  Solemnly, father and daughter with their arms wrapped around each other, tearfully made their way into the woods of Egla Tir…and home.

The End

Author Note: Well, here we are. My first fanfic is now completed.  My heart-felt appreciation goes out to all the travelers who came with me on this journey.  I hope you have enjoyed the trip.   A big thank you to my friends, old and new, for your tender encouragements and patience.

With the greatest reluctance I now return Maedhros and Maglor back to the professor.  They belong to him, and were only loaned to me for a little while. To the brothers I can only say, "Guren ninnatha sui i lu tol cen a adchen." 

Translations –

No vaidech galen a malthen./May your ways be green and golden.

Navaer tithen min/Farewell little one

Tithen min/Little one

Galu/Good luck

Navaer/Farewell

Guren ninnatha sui i lu tol cen a adchen./My heart shall weep until it sees you again.