Chapter Text
If there was one thing Maglor really did not like about his life back in Valinor, then it was the number of official functions he had to attend. His uncle Arafinwe took some strange pleasure in making Maglor suffer through them on a regular basis, he was sure.
That Sarwen usually accompanied him made them bearable but right this moment she was in deep discussion with Amarie and Elenwe, and it did not seem like they were done anytime soon.
It had not been long since his wife had moved back in with him into his mother’s house. Both women had agreed that he could not be possible left to his own devices, considering all the trouble he had managed to get in while in the east.
Maglor was both touched and annoyed by that.
Besides, Nerdanel had managed the Feanorean faction from the house, which meant that all the documents were stored there too. It made no sense to move them when it was far easier to move him.
Elrond had almost fallen out of his chair laughing so hard when Maglor had told him that during his last visit in the valley where the fortress of Formenos was mostly entirely gone by now, they had decided to keep some of the cellars, and the first new houses were almost finished.
Sipping his wine, Maglor looked around for a shadowy corner to hide in. He would not be needed until they all sat down for dinner.
Sarwen did not like it when he did that, but she was busy, therefore he could indulge himself for a bit. And he found a nice quiet corner, unfortunately it was already occupied.
“Hmm, I was wondering when I would meet you.” Maglor greeted the other elf. “I believe you prefer Lomion these days?”
The younger elf looked at him suspiciously, but nodded. “I do. Did mother send you?”
“No, frankly I have not yet seen her.” Maglor shrugged. And a good thing that was, she always tried to convince him to join her when she went to Orome for his hunts. He did not think that that was an idea, people might get the wrong ideas if they saw him with weapons. “Mind if I join you, cousin?”
Now it was Lomion’s turn to shrug. “Not like I can stop you.”
“Promised your mother to behave?” Maglor smiled. “I have to do the same every time I leave the house.”
Lomion snorted. “We are the disreputable ones, are we not?”
“Indeed.” Maglor took a seat on the bench next to Lomion’s. They sat like that for a while. It was not unpleasant but it was clear that Lomion did not think Maglor was there just to avoid others, but to keep an eye on him. Not unreasonable since his mother would do something like that should she think it necessary.
“I hear the work at Formenos are going well.” Lomion eventually spoke up.
“It is. Busy bees, Elrond and Celebrian are.” Maglor confirmed. “Have you been there?”
“Just once, when mother showed me the land after I came out of the Halls.” Lomion shrugged. “The fortress was rather impressive back then, if somewhat ruined. Kind of a shame to destroy it.”
“Yes, but there is thankfully no need for a fortress like that in Valinor.” Maglor pointed out. “And it carries rather unpleasant memories for some of us. Changing it to a village is a good idea. Elrond is full of those. You should go and have a look at it now. I think you would like it.”
“I very much doubt I would be welcomed there.” Lomion pointed out.
“Elrond does not hold grudges.” Maglor told him. “And you did not injure him.”
“No, just his father and grandparents and great-grandfather, and the entire city of Gondolin.” Lomion muttered.
“Did you now?” Maglor asked. “I always wondered why you never told anyone what really happened.”
Lomion stared at him, his face suddenly worryingly pale. “How do you know…?”
“That you never returned to Gondolin after you were taken to Angband? Sauron likes to brag.” Maglor stated. “And he really must have gotten much enjoyment out of the fact that he fooled Turgon himself, walking around Gondolin with no one the wiser.”
“I do not understand, how do you know that?” Lomion said weakly.
“Oh, did no one tell you?” Maglor grimaced. “I enjoyed his hospitality for a while near the end of the Second Age. He told me all kinds of things, mostly lies, of course, but the way he preened about Gondolin, well, it was rather obvious that he told the truth on that.”
“Who told you the truth on what?” Turgon suddenly asked coming around the pillar hiding them from sight.
“Are you spying on your sister’s behalf or are you simply that bored, cousin?” Maglor wanted to know. Damn it, how was it possible that Turgon had snuck up on them? His instincts were dulling, maybe he should take Aredhel up on her offer to take him to Orome’s hunt one of these days to sharpen them again.
“Answer the question, cousin.” Turgon bit out. Despite Elenwe’s rebirth halfway through the Second Age and his own return at the beginning of the Third, Turgon still had not forgiven Maglor and his family for abandoning them and forcing them onto the Grinding Ice. Not that they had actually done any forcing, they had all thought Nolofinwe and his people would just turn back home, like Arafinwe had wisely done.
“We were just reminiscing on our shared acquaintance of Sauron.” Maglor told him. “In a private conversation, I might add.”
Turgon glared at him. “You are still not answering my question.”
“He took my place.” Lomion whispered.
“What?” Turgon asked surprised.
“Sauron, he took my place, I am sorry, I told them where the city was, everything was hurting so much and he said he would make it stop if I only told him where Gondolin was.” Lomion said, tears streaming down his face. “I am sorry. Please, do not tell mother.”
“But…” Turgon looked confused. “You did not return? You did not try to kill Earendil?”
Lomion wordlessly shook his head.
“He goaded some orcs into killing him eventually.” Maglor added. “Sauron was rather annoyed by that, he still had plans for you, Lomion. And unfortunately, he learned a lot while being in Gondolin that he then later used as Annatar. As I said, he liked to gloat.”
“Why did you not tell us any of this?” Turgon wanted to know from his nephew.
Lomion shrugged, wiping away his tears. “Who would have believed me? Aside from mother, I mean.”
“I do not believe this.” Turgon muttered.
“See?” Lomion muttered.
“Maybe then you should talk to Namo.” Maglor suggested. “I am sure he can tell you for sure one way or another.”
“I asked him not to tell anyone.” Lomion said. “It was bad enough as it was. I do not need anyone’s pity!”
The last one he said with quite a bit of heat. Maglor was glad to hear. It meant that there was some fire left in the younger elf that nothing and no one had been able to extinguish. Lomion just needed to find a way to cultivate it back to a healthy level.
Dinner was a tense affair after that, at least for the three of them. Turgon glowered, Lomion sulked a bit and Maglor just wanted to go home.
“What is going on?” Sarwen wanted to know.
“Turgon is a stubborn ass, as usual.” Maglor replied.
Sarwen raised an eyebrow at him.
“I will tell you on the way home.” Maglor promised. “Family problems.”
“Very well.” Sarwen relented. “But if Aredhel comes after you, I will not protect you.”
“She will not, not do me bodily harm, at least.” Maglor assured her, though Aredhel was watching them all with narrowed eyes. Hopefully she would interrogate Turgon first.
After the incident with Celebrimbor he should have known that Lomion would not have talked about his ordeal with anyone, but he would have thought that he would at least have told his own mother. But apparently she was the last person he wanted to know. Well, Maglor wished him good luck with that now.
“They did torture him then.” Sarwen stated when Maglor had finished. “The books all say they threatened him with it only.”
“And how would they know?” Maglor asked. “None of them were there, none of them spoke with anyone who was there. Besides, they would have tortured him even if he had told them everything immediately, just for the fun of it.”
“Poor boy.” Sarwen whispered.
“You know, the Halls offer a lot less healing then I had expected.” Maglor stated after a few minutes of them walking quietly towards their home.
“What did you expect?” Sarwen wanted to know. “That they just one day step out and behave as if nothing ever happened?”
Maglor shook his head. “No, not that, but something more, something a lot more helpful at least. Telpe looked so terrible fragile when he learned about what Sauron had done with the rings, I thought he would shatter on the spot. Why did the Valar not prepare him for that? Are the Halls not full of Vaire’s tapestries, telling those inside what is happening in the world?”
“Remembering the time in the Halls is a confusing experience, I have been told.” Sarwen shrugged. “Maybe that is for the best, maybe not, but we can do nothing but trust the Valar that they know best.”
Maglor scoffed. “I am not so sure they do. They are not all-knowing, and they can be fooled, they proved that often enough…my apologies, I am not going into another rant, I promise.”
“Ah, I kind of missed them.” Sarwen told him. “They were at least always interesting.”