Exploring Westernesse [ Lord of the Rings x Silmarillion ]

A New Face

"Where are we to head now," Miril asked Fingon excitedly. The morning had dawned bright and early, so that now they sat together in the small dining area of the inn. The only one missing was Maglor.

Fingon shook his head with laughter. "Truly you and your husband and brother are eager."

Elladan rolled his eyes. "Would you not be?"

Maglor appeared then, bringing with him a letter. "A maia brought this to me before you three woke up. It's a summons to Mandos."

Miril grinned. "Then to Mandos we shall go!"

"It isn't too far from here," Fingon agreed immediately, reading the letter that Maglor handed him. "You haven't actually met Lord Mandos, correct?"

"No," Elrohir shook his head. "We only met Lady Vairë."

"Then let us be off," Fingon said with a smile and a nod. "It is rude to keep the Valar waiting. Especially Mandos."

And so the five travelers grabbed their bags and walked quickly to their horses. The trek to the road that went to Mandos took an hour, and the road itself another five. By the time they reached the great Halls of Awaiting, the sun had reached its peak and now waned in the sky. They entered by the same gate as before, leaving their horses with Wilwarinde the maia outside once more. Maglor flashed the letter of summons before the guard. He let them pass.

As they entered the Hall, Miril and the twins felt again the shock of the sheer grandeur of that place. The high columns went on seemingly endlessly. They were met at the opening of the hall by Míriel.

"Welcome back." She nodded with a smile. "The Lord and Lady await you in their hall."

"Are we all to go?" Maglor asked her carefully.

"Yes," she said with a grin. "It seems you have found favor with Mandos, or else Ilúvatar as determined for you to be here."

They pondered her words as all five followed her. Míriel led them further down the Hall of Tapestries than they had been before, until right before the gate to the Halls of Awaiting they turned right. The new hall was actually a domed area. The ceiling far above them was painted black with white shining gems like stars. Everything else, grey stone like the rest of the halls, was draped in dark blue tapestries depicting each Valar. At the far end of the dome from their entrance sat two thrones. Smaller and less grand than those thrones upon Taniquetil, these two were softly sculpted from grey marble. Each had a cushion of deep blue. Upon the right throne from where they stood sat Vairë, the Weaver. And to the left sat a man who sat tall and still with grey eyes and dark hair. His robes looked heavy, made of strong fabrics, and were black, grey, and dark blue.

"Lord Mandos, Lady Vairë, I bring before you Maglor, Fingon, Miril, Elladan, and Elrohir, of the house of Finwë." Miriel knelt on a single knee and the rest copied her action.

"You may stand, children," Vaire chuckled softly.

Míril, who had already decided she liked Vaire from their last visit, smiled back and rose with the others. And yet when her eyes fell upon Mandos, she felt awe-inspired fear. He looked at them quizzically before nodding.

"Welcome to my Halls, children of Finwë." He paused. "We have much to discuss. For I do not understand why, but Eru has shown me that it is time, yet again, to release from these Halls more and more elves."

"How so," Maglor ventured the question. "Why?"

"That is what I do not know," Mandos shook his head from where he sat. "I am unsure. And yet the direction is clear, and I will not stop the actions based on my own bias. But each time I release an elf, I must know that there are those who will vouch for them, especially from a family such as yours, Makalaurë."

"Mine," gasped Maglor. "Who?"

"It seems that Eru wishes me to release Maedhros Nelyafinwë. He has gone before the Allfather and been judged forgiven. But I must speak first to Míril Fëanoriel. For thanks to my wife, she has spoken with him." None missed the smug look on Vaire's face and the slightly annoyed one on Mandos' own. "What have you to say for his fate, Míril. You are the only Fëanorian to be judged worthy in their first life."

Fingon and Maglor both stood in absolute shock, rocked to their core by the knowledge that their greatest friend might be coming back to them. Both cousins stared at Míril pleadingly, and she tried desperately to ignore them.

"I grew up with a hatred of the Fëanorians," she began. "I loved learning of their valor, but always did I despise their actions. The Kinslayings are not easily forgivable." Míril did not miss the shameful look on Maglor's features. His entire body sagged. But she continued. "Maedhros participated in all three of those horrendous acts. And yet, when I spoke to him, he understood fully how evil his actions had been. He was repentant. He wanted nothing but to apologize to his mother. And I think his last act speaks volumes. He killed himself in despair."

"So you would have him released," Mandos asked her.

She paused. "Yes."

"I have judged him the same way you have, Míril Fëanoriel. And as I said, I will not stand in the way of the will of Eru." He and Vairë turned their attention to a small door to their right. Miriel appeared then, and behind her a redhead, taller than most.

"Nelyo!" Maglor cried out in sadness and joy, a strange mix of contrasts. He ran to his brother and grabbed him into an embrace. "How could you have left me like that."

Maedhros nearly broke down right there, but his eyes met Maglor's and he straightened up for his sake. "I fear that is a tale I do not wish to revisit right now."

"Understandably," Maglor agreed, drawing back, controlling himself again. "But by all that is good, it is wonderful to see you alive."

"Likewise, brother." Maedhros smiled at his brother, something all four other elves found somehow very relieving.

Fingon walked over then and both of them eyed each other. "You have a lot to explain, Russandol."

"It is merely good to see you alive, Finno," Maedhros said with a frown. "When you died..."

"Come, let us speak of happier things," Maglor intervened. For he knew that his brother would not be able to control himself once he spoke of Fingon's last stand and death, and what it had done to the Noldor in the aftermath.

"Agreed," Fingon smiled. "For though we do, indeed, have much to talk about, I am content for now to say welcome home."

They embraced. Míril cried, and Elrohir hugged her, tears in his own eyes. Both thought then of Tinneth, of perhaps meeting her again someday. They did not know if she had entered the void, or if as an elf she sat in the Halls of Mandos somewhere. Either way, they knew she would not be able to see them for many years. Elladan alone remained composed, and he placed hands on both his brother and his sister-by-union.

"We have a room prepared for you to talk and prepare for the outside world," Vaire said then. "Mīriel will show you there."

"Thank you, my lord and my lady," Maedhros bowed to the Valar quickly, falling to both knees in reverence.

"Rise, eldest of the line of Fëanor." Mandos commanded him softly. "Instead of homage, promise to do good with your life in this body."

Maedhros nodded, his face scrunched as he tried to keep tears from falling. His new body, whole again, lacked the scars of his torture in Thangorodrim and he had his right hand back. If that wasn't a gift from Eru he did not know what would be. "With all my heart, Lord."

"Then go now, son of Fëanor. Rest and relax with your companions." Mandos gestured for them to follow Míriel. "But do not forget to go before Manwë and Varda in the near future. They wish to speak with you."

With a nod, and flanked by his cousin and brother, all six elves followed Miriel into another side room. There they sat, surrounded by warm-colored tapestries and sitting upon comfortable pillows and blankets.