Chapter Text
Aredhel waited by the door in anticipation. She'd already made up two rooms, but the one for Maeglin was big enough for him to share with Listanwar if they didn't want to be separated, and she had plenty of food and drink ready for them both.
They would be safe now. Once they were in her house, she could easily petition to be his new guardian, and of course Listanwar would stay with their only parent who was not a monster, and they could live in peace, wherever Maeglin and Listanwar would be happiest. Perhaps near to the Pastures of Yavanna, where Listanwar could enjoy the flowers.
We are almost there, came his familiar voice into her mind.
She rushed to close and curtain the windows so the house would not be too bright for him. Even with darkened glasses, his eyes would need rest after the journey.
But when a dark head appeared out of the trees, with it were two golden ones. Aredhel gripped the windowsill so hard it broke.
What were they doing here?
She must have miscalculated. She thought they would not care about a supposedly brief visit, that they would not be so possessive of a child that had likely been unintended. But even if they had not seen her true intentions, they must be more grasping than she had thought.
No matter. They could be sent away for long enough to be indefinitely delayed by Galdor and Ecthelion, who were ever so coincidentally in the area.
There was no time to fix the broken sill, so she left it. Perhaps one of her unwelcome guests could do it for her.
Aredhel forced a smile onto her face and opened the door to greet them.
"Welcome!" she called. "Come on in, I have food for you."
Listanwar cheered, and wiggled until Idril put them down so they could try to run towards Aredhel, holding Idril and Maeglin's hands and forcing them to keep up.
When the group reached the house, Aredhel knelt down to receive Listanwar's high-velocity hug, and kissed them all over their sweet face.
"Grandmama!" said Listanwar. "I missed you!"
"I missed you too, my dear grandchild," she said. "Have you grown already? You look bigger than when I saw you last."
"They've decided to have a growth spurt," said Maeglin fondly. "Tired of not being able to reach things, I think."
She picked Listanwar up to carry them inside, and gave Maeglin a kiss on the cheek. "It's good to see you, my nolpaincë. Come on in, out of the light, hm?"
Relief showed on his face when he came indoors, finally able to take off his sunglasses, and he sat down in the parlor. She turned and followed him, Listanwar in her arms, happy to ignore her more distasteful guests. Not that it stopped them from coming inside.
"While you're here, Lómion, you and I should go camping for a day or two," she suggested. "With Listanwar, so I can teach them about the plants that grow here."
"You'd better be careful they don't learn to climb trees all of a sudden," said Idril, as if totally unbothered about losing direct control of her prisoner even though she'd followed him here.
"Though they've gotten pretty good at climbing us," said Tuor with a soft smile. "We forbade them playing on the banister so they insist on clambering up everything else in sight, especially if it can provide cuddles."
"Mm, sounds like another elfling I once knew," Aredhel said playfully, and was delighted that both Maeglin and Idril protested at their respective childhoods being brought up. "Now, you should eat something. You've been traveling for a while, and I'm sure Listanwar, at least, is hungry."
Listanwar nodded at her, solemn and wide-eyed and clearly a ploy to be given sweets.
It was working. Aredhel uncovered the trays of fruit and cookies and poured a glass of juice for her grandchild, setting the little one in a small chair by the table.
It was just a matter of time. She could be patient.
At last Aredhel had managed to kick Idril and Tuor out of the house for the day, after nearly a week of trying, and Listanwar was playing in the yard while she and Maeglin sat on the porch. At last they could talk.
She enfolded Maeglin in her arms and kissed his head. "My dear son," she said softly. "How are you doing?"
"I am well," he said. "I -- there was a time when I couldn't have dreamed of my life being so good."
"I imagine Listanwar must have been a very happy surprise," she said, not wanting to force him to talk about anything too sensitive before he was ready.
A strange expression passed over his face. "Not -- no, they were not a surprise. That was on purpose, though -- no, I suppose it was on my part, too."
Aredhel's heart went cold. She had thought, she had hoped, that they were not cruel enough to force this upon him. What revenge could they want that required him to follow in her footsteps? But she mustn't argue too much with his unsure assertion that he had chosen Listanwar on purpose; he would feel safer to admit the truth to himself in time, as she had.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," she promises, "but I will listen if you do. Always."
"Not while Listanwar is awake," he said. "There's things they shouldn't have to know for a long time. They understand the important things, like that they need training for their magic, and that's all they need to comprehend right now. Hopefully ever, but I'll tell them eventually, I think."
She nodded, though she wasn't sure how the magic factored in. "All right. But I do want to ask why you hid their existence from me."
"It just didn't feel right not to tell you in person," he said. "And if I'd said, you would've come right over and gotten in trouble and it all would've been a mess. Please, Ammë, I didn't mean to hurt you by keeping it a secret. But I also can't have people knowing too much about Listanwar; I have lived in Valinor for years but I still can't trust."
"Can't trust what? What worries you so? Valinor is at least meant to be safe, and I'll make sure you and Listanwar are."
His mouth tightened. "Can't trust what people might do if they knew the whole truth about Listanwar. They're a sweet little cuckoo bird and they really do look exactly like their parents, but -- Valar, I'm still surprised Idril and Tuor took me back after what I did."
None of this quite made sense. "What do you mean, took you back?"
"I mean that apparently they didn't consider my treason and their killing me to be breaking off our courtship, and they made good on their promise to raise Listanwar as parents. Listanwar didn't even look like a half-elf when they were born."
"You were with them already?" she said, ignoring the second part for now.
"Of course! Why else would they have so readily volunteered to take me in? I thought at first that it was pity for a former love, or -- you know, to have me grovel and prove I'd suffered enough for what I'd done and confess the things they didn't know about. But they still love me," he said. "Even when I told them how faithless I was and how I chose Listanwar over any hope of reconciliation."
"I'm going to need you to explain that, too," she said, mildly comforted but still not entirely trusting of his spouses. "And I hope you realize how much confusion could've been avoided if you'd come to me in Mandos."
"How could I? I was in such a fragile state, and so ashamed. Listanwar was nothing but a bit of energy, nothing even near to a soul when I died."
"I'm going to fucking murder your husband for killing you when you were expecting," she said calmly.
Maeglin shook his head. "He didn't know! Listanwar--" He lowered his voice so the child wouldn't hear or be bothered. "Listanwar is ours in every way that matters now, but their creation was in Angband, and I couldn't tell anyone. I didn't have to keep them, in fact I was told I shouldn't, but I wanted them to have a chance at existing, so I came back with two lives."
Aredhel's heart broke. She'd been right about one thing. "I am so sorry, my dearest one."
"I'm fine now," said Maeglin, but clutched her tight. "Please, let's not talk about this anymore. I don't want anyone to know. Listanwar could get hurt."
She could easily imagine that. Listanwar must be a Maiarin child, if they could so easily change their shape to look like their other parents, and there were plenty of people who might want to use them as a pawn. Or, worse, people who might hurt them for being the offspring of an Úmaia.
"Your secret is safe with me," she said. "I suppose I don't need to kill Idril and Tuor for hurting you after all, but I will have to apologize to Turgon. Next time something happens, you need to just tell me."
"I can do that. Probably."
"Now that Listanwar is nearly two years old and nothing bad has happened, I expect the sentence to be revoked now," said Aredhel.
"A 'hello' wouldn't go amiss," said Finarfin. "And I'm pretty sure you plotting murder isn't exactly nothing bad happening, but that may be personal preference."
She rolled her eyes. "All right, hello uncle, why didn't you tell me the spell broke within a few months and save me a lot of worry?"
"Maybe because it was none of my business," he said. "I don't control the sentence, anyway, it was mandated by the Valar because people asked for it."
"Oh, these people?" she said, holding out a sheaf of papers. "They all agreed to revoke the sentence. You're the one with the official paperwork."
"How many people did you threaten? And if you broke into my files to find their names, why not just get rid of the paperwork?"
She gave an offended gasp. "I would never! Turgon brought me the names because I apologized to him. Something about positive reinforcement or whatever. And I want an official proclamation about how my son was unfairly maligned and can go wherever he wants now, and an announcement of their marriage and of baby Listanwar, the newest heir of the House of Finwë."
"If I do that, will you all stop bothering me?" he said, hoping in vain.
"No, one last thing," said Aredhel. "Eärendil gets the whole week off to come to Listanwar's begetting day party, or I make sure you never have peace again. You're invited, too, of course."
He sighed. "I'll be there."