internal thoughts be in italics
Epilogue 2
Ethuil, Dol Amroth, 142 F.A.
The last of the sails unfurled and the Rain Elei began to move quickly out of the harbor, leaving Middle-earth behind. That seemed to be the last straw and he felt Sídhiel collapse.
Gildor carried her to their cabin, his own pain buried beneath worry for his mate. Sídhiel had lost few that were dear to her and was unaccustomed to the intense ache. It was never easy, but few were as intimately familiar with the pain of loss as he was. The dim light of the cabin offered peace and solitude where he could finally release his sorrow. He laid her upon the bed and caressed her face. “Sídi, wake up, meleth. You cannot give into the grief. I need you...” His voice trailed off into a harsh whisper as the long denied tears finally came.
Movement from behind caught Gildor's eye and he turned; his eyes widened in astonishment. “What has happened? What is wrong with Sídhiel?” Maglor questioned as he stood there, his brow furrowed with concern, but behaving as though there should be no surprise that he was on the ship.
Furiously, Gildor swiped at his eyes and cheeks, wanting to conceal all evidence of his sorrow, especially from Maglor. “What do you care?” he hissed. “It is not as though you gave a damn for her well being before this moment!” His anger and hurt pulsed through him, and Gildor found he had no words that would not be damning, so instead of starting a row, he stood. Once he had regained his composure, he glanced at Sídhiel and noticed that she was looking up at them with wide eyes from a pale face. “Why do you not ask her yourself? There is nothing I wish to say to you.” He stormed to the door and slammed it behind him.
“Damn you!” Sídhiel was furious, but also ecstatic, and she marveled at the dichotomy of emotions Maglor evoked in her. Struggling to sit up, she glared at the dark-haired elf. He was immediately at her side on the bed aiding her, with a strong arm about her. She tried to move away from him, but he held fast. “Let go! I do not need your help.”
Maglor looked at her with a wistful smile on his face, his head cocked to one side as he looked at her growing abdomen. “May I?” His free hand was poised over her stomach, seemingly uncaring that she was trying to push him away. She nodded, wide blue eyes looked up at him, meeting flint grey. As his hand rested upon her abdomen, the baby chose that moment to move. The smile that lit his face caused a matching one to grace hers. “My iôn?” She nodded again and was surprised by the intensity of emotions as his eyes once again met hers. “I refused to believe. I could not let myself because it would have destroyed me.” Maglor's arm tightened about Sídhiel and she turned into him, tears coursing down her cheeks.
“I never stopped hoping that you would come.” Her words were stuttered through harsh sobs, and she felt tears not her own fall upon her arms. No more words were spoken for awhile as they clung to each other, hurts healing as their bond formed once again. When no more tears fell, Sídhiel felt soft lips press against hers and she easily opened up for her dark-haired lover. The kiss was tender and coaxing. She pulled back and frowned. “Why did you wait so long to come? Gildor had given up all hope.” Her tone became sharp as she acknowledged how badly her mate had been hurt by Maglor yet again. “He did not deserve to be treated that way. So, speak up... explain yourself!”
Maglor well knew that he had hurt both of them, but suspected that Gildor was the worse off of the pair. The long separation had made their reunion all the sweeter, filled with love and blissful memories, thus the parting had been even more painful. That he could have sent his blond lover away yet again… Maglor knew that what he did was practically unforgivable. Sídhiel seemed to forgive him, so he still had hope that Gildor could as well. “When you left, I was in a daze, unable to think of anything clearly. The desolation I felt was overwhelming.” When it seemed he would be interrupted, Maglor placed a finger over Sídhiel's lips to keep her silent. “Then, as I was regaining some semblance of rational thinking, the very forest and swamp around me seemed to go berserk. It was as though the plants themselves wanted rid of me.” Sídhiel smiled to herself. She suspected that Estë had a hand in the plants turning on Maglor, but she said nothing.
Crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at Maglor, Sídhiel seemed quite annoyed with him as she spoke. “So, you had to be forced to come. This was not something that you freely chose?” Inside her was a war on as she fought whether to chide him or pull him down to the bed. “So the plants turned on you. That was no cause for you to show up here. I am sure you have other places to hole up in.”
“Sídhiel. I came. Is that not enough?” He was trying to cajole her, but failed. She was still angered that he had sent them both away.
“Nay, it can never be enough.” She shook her head, but was unable to hold onto her anger. Sídhiel was overjoyed. Her son would know his father and her mates would be one, once again. Taking pity on Maglor, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I am pleased beyond measure that you are here, but I am not the one you did the most grievous harm to.” She tilted her head toward the door. “You owe Gildor much. I do not know how you will convince him to forgive you, or trust you again, but do what you must. Crawl to him, if necessary.”
Maglor was startled by the vehemence of Sídhiel’s words, but he knew she was right. He had hurt Gildor and it would take much to convince the blond of Maglor’s constancy now. Sighing, he shifted to move when Sídhiel held him back. “I love you, just as he does. Do not lose faith that you will win his heart again. Just be patient with him.”
Maglor nodded and kissed Sídhiel gently before standing. “I love you. I do not regret coming and I promise you I will earn his trust again, meleth.”
Sídhiel smiled brightly at her lover as he walked out the door. She laid her head down to rest, all the while her hand idly stroked her stomach.
Gildor slammed the door behind him and stormed across the ship. He needed to get away, but there was no where to run to on a ship. His face reflected his anger and pain; the normal light grey eyes were stormy dark and his lips were set in a thin, hard line. The crew were concerned for the Lady’s health, but none would dare approach him to ask after her. It was obvious they would all be best served if they avoided him at the moment.
Doron worried and wanted to know. As he made for their cabin, Faron’s hand on his arm stopped him. “Wait, meleth. Something has occurred and we should not interfere.”
Doron’s blue eyes moved from his lover’s face back to the door. “But, what if she is hurt?”
Faron clasped his lover around the waist and pulled him close, “Then our Lord would never have left her. I have no idea what could have created such a foul mood in him, but we should not interfere.” He repeated his words, trying to get through to his impetuous lover when the door to the cabin opened.
Silence reigned throughout the ship. It was not Sídhiel who stepped out, but instead, a tall, auburn-haired ellon, with flint grey eyes and a serious countenance, who strolled almost casually after Gildor. Many pairs of eyes stared after him, until Gildor turned to regard the other. Then all of the crew managed to seem busy, although, oddly enough, all had business on the top deck.
As Gildor said something to the other, Doron glanced up at Faron and then left his arms and went straight to Sídhiel’s cabin.
Startled by the knock, Sídhiel moved to stand, but then gave up and called out, “Come in already.” Her frustration at being unable to move easily and quickly was evident in her tone.
Doron was hesitant, but stepped into the dimly lit cabin. As his eyes adjusted, he looked to his Lady and smiled, if a bit awkwardly. He shut the door and then moved to the bedside where Sídhiel was still fighting to detangle her legs so she could at least sit up.
“Doron! Come in. Come in. Don’t mind my fussing. I simply hate being so ungainly.” She patted the bed next to her and laughed softly. “What brings you here?” As she saw his eyes glance to the door, she recalled. “Oh. Aye, I guess you would have questions.” Shrugging, she continued, “That is Maglor. The one we had been seeking. He was found in the swamp, but did not return with us.” She tried to sound nonchalant, but mostly failed. “I guess he decided that he wanted to come, after all.”
Sídhiel felt her mates’ anger and hurt, and as the tumult increased she knew that they needed an intermediary. Struggling for a moment to rise, she finally huffed out, “Would you please give me a hand? Stupid bed was obviously not made for pregnant ellith.”
Doron chuckled and then helped her to stand. “Thank you, Doron. I am needed out there… before things deteriorate.” She was still a bit unsteady, not having yet gained her sea legs, let alone dealt with her own rapidly changing form while still accustoming herself to the roll and sway of the ship.
“Are you certain you do not need an arm to lean upon?”
The blond haired elf had always been fond of the Lady, and now he was even more solicitous; he aided her out into the brilliant sunshine. Squinting, she looked forward and saw the dark haired elf standing stiffly while Gildor fumed at him. Sídhiel turned around, gazing at all the elves aboard the ship. All eyes were watching the scene her mates were creating. Sighing, she released Doron’s arm. “Go to Faron, and with Cannith’s help, please convince them all to return to their duties. They will hear the outcome as soon as there is one.”
Sídhiel strode up to the pair, trying her best to look dignified so she did not embarrass herself, but it was damnably hard when the deck would not stay where her feet thought it should be!
When Gildor stopped his rant in mid-sentence, Maglor turned and could not restrain the smile that lit his face. Sídhiel was beautiful. Her face glowed, even as she glared at them both. He turned to Gildor and smirked, “I suspect she is not happy with our rather public display.”
Gildor frowned at Maglor, not pleased at the dark elf’s flippant attitude, but his eyes gently caressed Sídhiel and his lips quirked upward of their own volition. She was most annoyed at them and was not making any attempt to conceal that fact.
When she reached the pair, she frowned and, crossing her arms over her chest, spoke with quiet determination. “I think you have both created enough entertainment for the crew today, so I suggest you take this inside. I would prefer that the entire ship not know our business before I do.” Sídhiel laced her arms in the others and turned back toward the cabin. “You two can either cooperate and walk back with me, or embarrass us completely by resisting.”
Maglor looked into her blue eyes and did not miss the dangerous glint. Sídhiel might be smiling, and had forgiven him, but she was not best pleased with him for Gildor’s sake. He knew better than to argue and hoped that Gildor would comply as well.
Gildor easily acquiesced. He did not desire any of this to be public and only his overwrought emotions had allowed it to go as far as it had. Though he did not smile, he looked into Sídhiel’s eyes and gained comfort from them as they returned to their cabin.
The door closed behind them, but the dimly lit cabin could not hide the raw pain and barely constrained fury radiating from Gildor. He quickly crossed to the bed and sat with Sídhiel for a moment, keeping his distance from Maglor, and allowing soft arms to surround him while whispered words of love and support were spoken. Finally, she nudged the blond away, forcing herself to relax and him to confront his silent lover. The constant motion and swaying of the ship caused Sídhiel’s stomach to lurch and she wanted nothing more than rest, but she feared that the brewing storm between her mates would make things worse so she could not close her eyes. She merely watched and listened, unwilling to interfere unless things got out of hand.
Gildor stood and turned to his wary and silent lover. Maglor had not moved since they entered the cabin. He was barely two steps from the door and stood watching, wanting to hold, touch, and reassure, but he knew better. Gildor had not given him leave to touch and it was obvious the blond was furious with him.
A jumble of words was rushing around in Gildor’s mind. There was too much to say and he did not know where to begin. Finally, he spoke, while holding himself tightly in check. “I have one thing only to say and then I will move out of this cabin.” He knew he was hurting Sídhiel, but Maglor’s presence did not allow Gildor to guard himself. Sitting up, Sídhiel stiffened and was about to intervene, but found it unnecessary. Maglor moved and was instantly forcing the blond to back up by his nearness.
“You would run and leave Sídhiel alone?” He was incredulous. This was not something that Gildor would do.
“She would not be alone. She would have you.” Slightly discomfited by the dark elf’s continuing press, Gildor finally splayed his hand against Maglor’s chest, halting his momentum. “I only do what you seem to want, but know this… if you hurt her, you will pay dearly.”
“Damn it! Gildor, I would not hurt her… or you! Please?” Maglor begged. “Can you not forgive me? At least acknowledge that I did come and am here?”
“I will not lie to you. I am glad you are here… for Sídhiel and the babe’s sake, but more than that, I cannot give you. I would know this… was it only for them? I alone was never enough?” Though the words were toneless, spoken without emotion and bereft of feeling, they hung in the air, weaving a dark trail around the others’ hearts.
Maglor howled in pained outrage. “Nay! Never.” He softened his reaction and moved swiftly to surround Gildor, strong arms holding tight. “I love you… always have, and always will, maethoren valthen. Please forgive a stubborn, foolish elf. I fear the Valar will take me once I set foot in Aman – I am the only one that has not paid the ultimate price. But I could no longer bear the pain of being assuredly alone for all eternity. Better to take the risk and be with you for a short time than never again.”
His dark-haired lover had always mastered his body and soul. Gildor was often helpless in the face of Maglor’s needs and desires, but this time he did not succumb. Being shoved away for the second time had been more than he could take, so the words did not thaw his icy heart or soothe his wounded pride. He was stiff in the strong arms and had to tense every muscle to keep from leaning into the one who still held such power over him. “Not this day, Maglor. Maybe someday, but I do not trust you or believe you, and I will not give you the ability to hurt me yet again.”
Maglor could not truly believe his ears. Gildor was shutting him out and refusing him? A pained gasp burst from the dark elf. His legs no longer held him upright and he slid slowly down the blond’s form until he was on his knees, clutching at Gildor’s legs. “Please? I beg of you, do not do this! I need you!”
That his dark-haired lover was on his knees, begging, nearly broke Gildor’s resolve. Maglor had never begged for anything. He was too proud, too strong to do so. Gildor knew his voice would not be steady, so he only shook his head, and stepped away. Feeling Sídhiel’s eyes upon him, he could not even look at her as he left the cabin.
The half-elf gasped, her heart crying out. She moved over as quickly as she could and wrapped herself around Maglor. She had to believe that this was just a temporary set back. There was no way she could live with her lovers being torn apart. No words would be enough, but she spoke anyway, “He will forgive you, meleth.” As shimmering dark eyes looked up at her, she felt the tears that he would not shed sliding down her face. “And, until he does, you have me…” Sídhiel took his hand and placed it on her stomach, “us.”
Maglor buried his face in auburn waves and wept silently.
The days and nights passed slowly, and still Gildor slept elsewhere. Sídhiel slept in Maglor’s arms, afraid to stray too far as Gildor’s rejection of him seemed to have broken something inside of the normally stoic elf. The pair spent quiet hours in the cabin, talking and reading. Sídhiel was using the opportunity to learn as much of the dark elf as he would reveal.
Even though Gildor was not avoiding her, it still deeply disturbed Sídhiel that he was not there during the night. As the time passed, she began to grow more frustrated with the situation. Finally, after weeks of waiting, the idleness and tension drove her beyond frustration. She left Maglor reading in their cabin and strode out into the overcast day. The clouds muted Anor’s bright light, but still she had to stop for a moment to allow her eyes to adjust. In that time, Doron had seen her and rushed over to Sídhiel.
“Please, my lady, may I have a minute of your time?” Doron smiled at Sídhiel, but his manner betrayed his nervousness.
Smiling at him, she nodded. “Of course. What is on your mind?”
The lieutenant moved close and haltingly asked in hushed tones, “Is it true? Are we truly denied the White Shores because… he,” he nodded his head back toward the cabin, “is aboard ship?”
This was nothing that Sídhiel had expected and she stared wide-eyed at Doron, completely at a loss for words. She had noticed the odd glances, but did not consider what stories elves sitting idle could conjure. After taking a deep breath to ensure she did not blurt out anything inappropriate, she calmly answered, “Nay. I can personally assure you that the Valar desire for Maglor to return with us, or else we would not have found him. Please tell your friends that.”
Doron felt the dismissal and nodded to the lady before walking away.
Sídhiel tried not to be angry with the crew and her blond mate, but it was most difficult. She resumed her original destination – the helm, where Gildor, Cannith and Faron were standing, though they appeared to be arguing. They had been aboard ship for over six weeks, and tensions were increasing. Gildor was sure they were sailing in circles. Cannith knew how to sail and was insulted at the implied slur to his skill, but he had no answer for the unchanging stars and the becalmed sea. Faron listened to both and tried to act as mediator and keep tempers from flaring, which was quite difficult at this point. They had not had a breeze in two days and the air was thick and humid, almost cloying. The whole ship felt on edge, all of them concerned that they were doomed to sail forever.
She knew that the Valar wanted Maglor to return to Valinor. Lord Irmo had as much as said so. Sídhiel did not for a moment believe that he was why the journey was taking so long, but she had a suspicion that the problem did lie with the dark-haired elf. She believed his separation from Gildor must be at the root of the issue.
The three ellyn paid her no mind, so engrossed were they in their argument. Having little patience left, Sídhiel cleared her throat and pulled on Gildor’s arm. “Excuse me! I have an urgent need to speak with my lord. I must take him from this discussion for a time.” Smiling at Cannith and Faron, who simply gaped at her, she turned away and tugged Gildor to follow. We are going to talk! I have waited long enough for the two of you, and I will wait no longer.
Gildor stopped before the door, but did not turn the handle. Sídhiel pressed up against his back, whispering against his neck, “Please? For me?”
Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and walked in. Sídhiel followed and closed it quietly behind them. Maglor was sitting on the bed, legs crossed, hands caressing the ancient harp in his lap. He did not open his eyes as the pair walked in, but simply began singing. His hands lightly strummed and plucked the strings, the melancholy song swirled around them, its tale of longing and of loving too much, constricted Sídhiel’s heart. She felt the desperate love that was ill-fated from the first, the pain of separation and then the long years of running. When Maglor began singing the chorus once again, the ode to his lost golden love, she turned and looked at Gildor. He stood, unmoving, tears streaming down his face.
Swiping at her own tears which would not cease, she pushed Gildor forward. They had to work it out here and now, and she prayed fervently that they could.
Gildor allowed Sídhiel to nudge him forward a few steps, but he stopped an arm’s span from the bed, not wanting to give Maglor any encouragement.
Maglor’s song continued with a new verse that neither had heard before and Sídhiel marveled at his skill. The lyrics soared, full of joy and such intense beauty that she was captivated, until the tone changed and the light dimmed and the song became dark and bleak. Maglor’s rich baritone wove a spell such that both elves were stunned when the song ended, its last note hung in the air, a single golden clarion that spoke of hope.
Silence reigned in the cabin and Sídhiel held her breath, waiting and hoping. The dark-haired elf gently set his harp upon the bed and looked up. She had never seen him so open and vulnerable. When he at last spoke, his voice was tentative and displayed none of his normal arrogance or confidence. “I have thought long and hard upon your words, Gildor. Please forgive me? My constancy is true and I would show you. I am yours, body and soul. Though you did not know it at the time, you owned me from the first and always have.”
Gracefully, Maglor, second son of Fëanor, slid from the bed to the floor and rested upon his knees before Gildor. He lifted his face to his golden-haired lover, “Please just tell me that I may hope? That one day you will look upon me with love in your eyes once again?” Tears began to slide silently down his cheeks, “Without you I am shattered and can never be whole. Please?”
Sídhiel stood, her fist stuffed in her mouth to keep her sobs from interrupting. This was between them, but the anguish pulsing through her bond with her mates was so intense she was near to gasping.
Gildor heard Sídhiel’s indrawn breaths, and the small sounds of her sorrow made his decision easy. Holding onto the grief and pain would accomplish nothing except continue to hurt those he loved and himself, if he was honest. Taking a deep breath to keep his own voice from cracking with emotion, Gildor slid to his knees and cupped Maglor’s face in his hand. “I love you and always have. I cannot take being parted from you any longer.” He leaned over and gently kissed the soft lips.
Sídhiel felt a lurch and cried out as she steadied herself against the wall. The ship was moving!
Laer, Valinor, 143 F.A.
Sídhiel stood on the steps staring through the trees for a glimpse of her mates. Suddenly she was wrapped in a warm embrace and she turned in Erestor’s arms. “Ada! You are up early.”
Erestor chuckled as he kissed her brow, “’Tis hard to sleep when one’s bed is overflowing with too many arms and legs. After Gíl-auron elbowed me in the stomach for the third time, I knew it was time for tea.”
Resting her head upon her father’s chest, Sídhiel’s eyes drifted to the path once again. She had been restless these past weeks without Gildor and Maglor, and now that they were returning, she was eager for a first glimpse. “Did you get that much needed tea? Or shall I go in and make you some?”
The early summer morning was mild, and the song of birds and happy laughter floating on the light breeze filled the dark-haired elf with contentment. Erestor’s family was safe and soon they would all be reunited. “Nay, there is no need. Logoneth would have my hide if you so much as set foot in the kitchen. She believes your sole duty is with ‘Aur.”
Laughing, Sídhiel replied, “Only when he can be pried away from Adar.” Shaking her head, “Those two…”
“… are much alike. Aye. But it is good, is it not, Sídi?”
Stepping away for a moment so that she could look Erestor in the eyes, “Better than good, Ada. I have never been happier! And soon, there will be nothing missing.” A soft jingling and voices lifted in song wafted to her ears and Sídhiel turned. There, at the end of the path were two riders, one blond and one dark. Quickly she raced down the trail, only to be swept up into strong arms and twirled around in the air.
As the sun drifted slowly down, its blazing light bathed the salon in vivid hues of reds, pinks, and purples. Sídhiel glanced at Anor through the wall of windows before leaning her head upon Gildor’s shoulder. She turned back and the scene before her lit her face. Glorfindel was on his knees, chasing Gíl-auron. The baby’s happy giggles were only surpassed by Glorfindel’s laughter when he caught the elfling and blew raspberries across his neck.
Sighing happily, Sídhiel lifted her head and looked at Maglor who held Gildor tightly in his embrace. Panic marred her happy mood when she saw that his eyes shone with unshed tears. What is it, meleth? There is something you have not told me… what is it? This... this was… you cannot stay? She could not conceal her fear.
Be not concerned. Maglor opened his ‘voice’ to both his mates. I am not going anywhere… not for a very long time. And, as for the Valar? My only onus is to play for them, nothing more. I am simply overwhelmed. I have a family... a son… a life.
Gildor turned and suddenly Sídhiel was in the middle of strong arms, looking up as the blond devoured Maglor’s lips in a searing, claiming kiss. Do not forget lovers, seron vell. They were together… forever.
The End
Translations:
ada, adar – daddy, father
Anor – the sun
elleth, ellith – female elf, elves
Ethuil – spring
Firith – late autumn
Iavas – early autumn
iôn – son
Laer – summer
maethoren valthen – my golden warrior
meleth – love
Melethron – lover
Rhîw – winter
seron vell – beloved