The Day Transcending Night by StarSpray  

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Twenty Three

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The image of Celegorm on the ground at Sauron’s feet, Maglor was sure, would be burned into his mind forever. He saw it whenever he closed his eyes. The flash of Sauron’s sword, the way Celegorm hadn’t moved. The spill of his silver hair across the grass, the blood sinking into the dirt of the road. He was never going to forget how small and fragile his brother looked in that bed, swathed in bandages, pale as death, even as Elrond spoke of his recovery as though it was a sure thing and not the most desperate of hopes. 

Maglor had been given a small room just next to Celebrimbor’s, for the moment. After he spoke to Celebrimbor and Elurín, he retreated there, locked the door, shuttered the window, and allowed himself to crumple to the floor to fall apart. He wept until he ran out of tears, and then stayed huddled on the floor for a while, leaning against the wall, glad of the quiet and the dark and the smallness of the room. Outside was an entire army—more people than he’d walked among openly in centuries, and all of them knew that he was there, who he was. The thought alone was enough to send his heart racing and sweat prickling on his neck. 

And he hadn’t yet spoken to Elrond. It had been Daeron who asked the questions after Eluréd and Celegorm had been tended to. Maglor had hardly been able to look at Elrond—mostly because his attention had been on Celegorm, but also because he didn’t think he could. 

As he finally uncurled himself and went to dig through his pack for some clothes that wouldn’t be particularly clean but would at least not be covered in his brother’s blood, someone knocked on the door. His first instinct was to freeze and hope whoever it was just went away. Then he realized that was stupid, and he went to open the door.

It was Elrond. He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, and then threw his arms around Maglor, all before either of them could so much as take a breath. “Maglor—where have you been? I thought—I had started to believe you were dead—”

“I’m sorry,” Maglor whispered, eyes burning with fresh tears. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I thought—I thought a lot of things. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

“I looked for you.”

“I know—”

“You knew?” Elrond drew back, shock and hurt coloring his face. “Then you—”

“No, that’s not—I’m sorry, I know now. Your uncles told me. Before then I had no idea that you’d searched for me, you or Tyelpë. I’m sorry.” He was apologizing too much, and he knew it, but he couldn't seem to stop. Not when there was so much to apologize for. 

Elrond searched his face. Maglor couldn’t guess what he saw there. In Elrond’s face he just saw sadness. “You’ve been alone for far too long, Maglor,” he said finally. “Please do not leave like that again—please don’t drive yourself into another exile.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Maglor said. “Or at least—I go where my brother goes.” He regretted the words as they left his mouth, because that was the reason he had parted from Elrond and Elros in the first place: Maedhros would not go with them to join Gil-galad, and Maglor had refused to leave Maedhros. 

But Elrond did not seem surprised—he seemed almost pleased. “Then I’ll make sure he stays,” he said, “and then I’ll get to have you and my uncles with me all at once and for good.”

“It won’t be that simple, Elrond. You know it can’t be.”

“I’ll make it that simple,” Elrond said fiercely. “I am in command here—if I say you all stay, then you all stay. Celeborn can argue all he likes, but I do not answer to him.”

“What about Gil-galad?”

“He’s always known that I looked for you, that I wanted to bring you home. I don’t know what he’ll say of Lossenol—of Celegorm, I mean, but I do know he will at least listen to me.”

Maglor pulled Elrond back into his arms. “You’ve grown up. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there—I’m sorry for all of it.”

“I know,” Elrond said. “I forgave you a long time ago. So did Elros. And—I have a letter from him to you, back home in Lindon. When this is over, would you like to read it?”

“Yes,” Maglor whispered, missing Elros so sharply that he couldn’t breathe with it. “Yes, of course.”

Elrond had other things to be doing, and Maglor really did need to get some sleep, so they parted after another few minutes. Elrond seemed reluctant, as though he expected Maglor to escape out of the window and vanish into the wilderness if he was left alone for too long. And he probably wasn’t wrong to worry, Maglor thought a little sourly as he washed his face and bandaged his own minor wounds before collapsing into the bed. The desire to escape the notice of everyone was very strong. If sharing a small cottage with five other people for less than a year had been overwhelming—a whole valley full of soldiers, few of which had any reason to look favorably on him, was so much worse. He wouldn’t run away, because he had promised he wouldn’t disappear, and he would not leave Celegorm or Celebrimbor no matter what happened, but he didn’t know how he was going to withstand all the scrutiny that awaited him outside of that little room. 

He slept for only a few hours, and woke without feeling particularly rested. A quick look in Celebrimbor’s room showed him to be deeply asleep. Then he went in search of Celegorm and Eluréd, finding instead Daeron in a heated conversation in the hallway with someone Maglor did not know, but who he guessed was Celeborn, once Prince of Doriath—Galadriel’s husband. He was tall and silver-haired, with some features that brought Eluréd and Elurín to mind, and had apparently just learned the truth of who Daeron’s companion Lossenol was. “—can’t believe you allowed him anywhere near them!” he was saying. His voice was ragged, like he hadn’t slept, and his eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles under them. 

“Well, if I hadn’t,” Daeron snapped, “we wouldn’t be having this argument right now, because all four of us would be dead!”

Celeborn’s gaze flicked over Daeron’s shoulder, and his scowl deepened upon seeing Maglor. “And now you’ve taken up with another one,” he said. “For someone who claimed to love Lúthien, Daeron, you have made some very strange choices in your companions since you left Doriath.”

Daeron didn’t answer immediately, and with a start Maglor realized it was because he was angry. His hands had balled into fists at his sides, and he seemed to grow a little, though maybe it was only because he’d thrown his shoulders back and lifted his chin, and his shadow seemed to grow darker and gather around him ominously; when he finally found his voice he kept it low, and the sound of it made the hair on the back of Maglor’s neck stand up. “You are overwrought, my lord, and so I will forgive you that. But I will not forget it.”

“He killed her son, Daeron!”

“Dior has already taken his revenge, and wherever he is he does not need you to mete out any more. I’ve had enough of this. Are you not needed elsewhere?”

“This conversation is not over,” Celeborn snapped, but he accepted the dismissal and turned away, soon disappearing around a corner. Daeron stood very still for a moment before he breathed put slowly, hands relaxing. The shadows returned to normal. Huan, lying on the floor near the door, whined. 

“So the secret is out, then,” said Maglor. 

“No. I do not think he will tell anyone.” Daeron sighed and turned to him. No longer angry, he just seemed tired. “He hasn’t woken yet.”

“Have you slept at all?”

“A little. Are you going to sit with Lossë?”

“Yes. Tyelpë is asleep, and I think Elurín is with Eluréd…?”

“Yes. I’m honestly surprised we were able to get him away last night, but at least he got some sleep.” Daeron sighed again and rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m going to check on them and then—I don’t know. Find somewhere to rest a little myself, I suppose.”

“If they haven’t found you a bed you can take mine. It’s just by Tyelpë’s room.”

“I might just. Thank you.” Daeron turned away, and then turned back. “Have you spoken to Elrond?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, good.”

Huan followed Maglor into Celegorm’s room. He lay on the bed looking exactly as he had when Maglor had seen him earlier that morning. Small and pale and too still. Maglor sank into the chair beside it, and Huan came to sit on the floor, resting his big head on Maglor’s lap. Maglor stroked his fur, and scratched behind his ears, and sighed. Then he reached for Celegorm’s hand. “You need to wake up, Tyelko,” he said softly. “You don’t get to leave me like this. Not now.” Huan licked Maglor’s arm very gently. 

After a while, Celegorm stirred. His fingers flexed around Maglor’s, and he turned his head slightly, good eye fluttering open. “Cáno…?”

“I’m here, Tyelko.” Maglor leaned forward. Celegorm’s gaze was hazy, and he seemed only barely awake—but it was better than the terrible silent stillness.

Celegorm blinked slowly. “Where…” Then his eyes opened wide and he tried to get up, though he wasn’t strong enough to move at all—Maglor didn’t even need to try to stop him. “Eluréd—”

“He’s fine. I promise, he’s here and he’s safe—just in the next room. We’re in Elrond’s hidden valley.” Maglor gripped Celegorm’s hand, and with his other hand he pushed Huan down. He didn’t even know if Celegorm would remember this later, and he did not want to confuse him any further by revealing Huan, since it seemed unlikely that Celegorm remembered anything with much clarity from the river. For the same reason, he decided not to tell him yet that Daeron, Elurín, and Celebrimbor were also there—not unless he asked. “He’s hurt, but Elrond has seen to him and he’s resting. He’s going to be all right.”

“Oh,” Celegorm breathed, and relaxed, sinking into the pillows, eyes falling shut. Tears slipped free, and Maglor wiped them away. “He’s—all right?”

“He is, I promise.”

“He shouldn’t…should—” 

“He’s not alone,” Maglor said. “And as soon as one of you can get out of bed, you can see him. How much pain are you in? Should I fetch a healer?”

“No,” Celegorm whispered. “No, just—are you—”

“I’m fine. I’m not hurt. Do you want me to sing you back to sleep?”

“Please,” Celegorm whispered. 

“Before I do, Tyelkormo,” Maglor said, and waited for Celegorm to open his eyes, “I need you to promise me you won’t try to sacrifice yourself like that again.”

“Can’t,” Celegorm said, trying and failing to smile. “Sorry.”

“It was needless, Tyelko. We could have made the ford—all of us—even if you hadn’t turned back.”

“Could—couldn’t—take the chance. Swore an—an oath.”

“Yes, and I’m going to have words about that, too,” Maglor said, and sighed. He wouldn’t get any promise out of him then, and they could have a proper fight about it when Celegorm was stronger. “Close your eyes, Tyelko. I’ll sing the pain away.”

Celegorm sighed and obeyed. Then before Maglor could start singing, he murmured, “Had—strange dream…Huan was…”

“Just rest, Tyelko.” Maglor grabbed Huan by the scruff of the neck when he tried to rise, pulling him back from the bed. Huan could have easily stood up anyway, but he sank silently back to the floor, head in his paws, eyes mournful. It took very little to sing Celegorm to sleep—to a proper, deep sleep without dreams. When he finished Maglor slipped out of the chair to kneel on the floor by Huan. “When he’s just a little stronger,” he said, scratching Huan behind the ears with both hands. “When he can stay awake for more than just a few minutes. Then you can show yourself. He’ll just be confused, now—even more than the rest of us, you ridiculous creature. However did you cross the Sea again?” Huan just huffed at him and licked up his face, much less carefully this time than he had before. “Ugh, stop!”

He went to the window, then, looking out toward woodlands. When he opened it the sounds of an army camp came in, but there was no urgency in them, and he could hear laughter and singing; there was also birdsong and the music of flowing water. Maglor breathed deeply the fresh air, and left the window open a little when he went back to Celegorm’s side. Healers came and went at times; they were pleased when Maglor told them that Celegorm had woken briefly, and all their words were encouraging. If they disapproved of Huan’s presence, they said nothing. If they guessed, as Celeborn apparently had, what Huan’s presence meant, they gave no sign. 

Elrond reappeared some time after noon to check on Celegorm himself, and then to insist that Maglor come join him and Celebrimbor to eat something. “Daeron is with my uncles again, and I think Lossenol is safe enough under Huan’s supervision.” Huan woofed from his position sprawled out half-under the bed.

“I don’t want him to wake up and see Huan only to think he’s dreaming,” Maglor said, giving Huan a hard look. Huan woofed again and settled back down. 

“They’ll both be fine,” said Elrond.

Celebrimbor was outside in a patch of sunshine, where a few tables had been set out near a large vegetable garden. He still looked tired, but the persistent pain he’d been in for months—and which he was not as good at hiding as Maedhros had once been—seemed to have lessened. “Do you anticipate being here long?” Celebrimbor asked Elrond as they sat down. The meal was already laid out—simple fare, soup and bread, but hearty and fresh from the kitchen. 

“Yes,” said Elrond. “Or at least we feel it’s better to act as though we will be. As soon as we received your warnings Gil-galad sent to Númenor for aid, but we had not heard back from Tar-Telperiën by the time I left Lindon. And—well, you know better than I do what the rest of Eriador looks like now, but I do not think there is any chance of escape in any direction until Númenor does come.” 

“I know very little,” Celebrimbor said. “We stayed as close to the mountains as we could, coming north—it was very quiet there, and we saw very few orcs.”

“You did not happen to meet any Elves, did you?” Elrond asked, a little hesitantly. 

“We did! We met Lindir some days ago—not far from the Redhorn Pass. He told us where to find this valley, more or less. There was no one watching the road to the mountains when we passed by—I don’t know why. I would have set a guard, but…”

“Perhaps he thinks it doesn’t matter,” said Elrond, visibly relaxing. “But Lindir is both quick and clever—that is why I sent him. And he will now have good news to take to Galadriel and Amdír. If you saw him near the pass, he may already be in Lórinand as we speak.”

Maglor was inclined to think it really didn’t matter—Sauron had already overrun all of Eriador, and only Lindon in the west and this valley in the east remained. What did he care if a messenger or two escaped over the mountains? They would bring no news but despair to Lórinand or the Greenwood, and even word of Celebrimbor’s survival would do little to lighten it. He said nothing, and just picked up a piece of bread to dip into the soup. If Elrond remained hopeful then there probably really was hope, and Maglor did not need to give voice to his inability to share it. He could barely find it in himself to hope that they would remain safe and hidden while Celegorm and Eluréd recovered. He remained quiet as Celebrimbor asked more about the valley, clearly hoping to give Elrond something to talk about to fill the silence so neither of them would have to. 

Elrond was kind enough to oblige, but only for a little while. Then he turned the tables and asked, “But how in the world did you get out of Ost-in-Edhil, Celebrimbor? Celeborn made it sound as though you intended to make your last stand there.”

“So I did.” Celebrimbor shrugged, and then winced, rubbing at a spot on his shoulder. “Eluréd and Elurín apparently had different ideas. From the way Elurín described it to me, they decided to more or less reenact Beren and Lúthien’s retrieval of the Silmaril—only I was the Silmaril, and I don’t think Eluréd’s songs put anyone to sleep. Only distracted—him. I don’t remember any of it.”

“Daeron and—Lossenol—and I followed Eluréd and Elurín north when we realized where they had gone,” Maglor said after a moment. “We arrived outside of Ost-in-Edhil in time to hear Eluréd’s singing to distract Sauron, and then to meet them when they escaped the city with Tyelpë. Daeron and I then led Sauron on a merry chase north and west, to give Lossenol and the twins a chance to escape south again, and then we made our way back to their home beyond the Ered Nimrais.”

“Beyond the Ered Nimrais—how long had they been living there?”

“Only a few years, I think. They came back west when trouble started brewing in the east, from the sound of it, and hadn’t yet had a chance to venture back into Eriador before the Enemy came marching through the Gap. Tyel—Lossenol found me on the beach near the mouths of the Angren, just before Eluréd and Elurín went north. I thought for a little while I’d finally lost my mind entirely—and I had no idea that any of this was happening until they told me of it.”

“Strange chance,” Elrond said, glancing between the two of them. “But I am very glad of it.”

“We are too,” Maglor said, managing a small smile. 

“I’d be even gladder if you actually ate your lunch—both of you.”

As Celebrimbor made a face and Maglor made a show of putting a large spoonful of soup into his mouth, Daeron wandered outside, looking tired and faintly lost. “Daeron,” Elrond said, rising. “Will you join us?”

“I ate already,” said Daeron, but he came to sit at the small table with them, across from Elrond and between Maglor and Celebrimbor. “How is Lossë?”

“He woke briefly this morning,” said Maglor, “but I only assured him that Eluréd was well. He wasn’t awake enough for more.”

Daeron nodded, relaxing a little. “Eluréd has been asking about him. I’m glad to have that much to share. And—Elrond, have you spoken to Lord Celeborn since this morning?”

“No, I haven’t seen him at all yet today. Did something happen?”

“Well, he’s no fool, and very quickly put the pieces together of Huan and Maglor and Lossë—and, I suppose, my old reticence from long ago. I fear he’s…”

“Quite angry,” Maglor said, keeping his voice mild, when Daeron trailed off. Celebrimbor grimaced.

Elrond sighed. “Well, he hasn’t spoken to anyone else of it—he is wise enough to know that that kind of rumor would only lead to trouble. The secret cannot and should not be kept forever, but until Lossenol is on his feet and able to defend himself, I would rather everyone go on thinking that there is only one of Fëanor’s sons here in this valley.”

“Well,” Celebrimbor said after a moment, “our original plan was to make for Galadriel in Lórinand. I’m rather glad we’ve ended up here instead, in spite of everything.”

“Galadriel will not be pleased with this news,” Elrond agreed. “What exactly will Lindir tell her?”

“Only that I am alive, and that Daeron, Elurín and I were separated from Lossenol and Eluréd on our way north. What she might find in her mirror, if she looks, I can’t guess. Daeron made one of his own this winter, and it showed little.”

“I’m not very good at that sort of thing,” said Daeron. “Eluréd fared a little better. He was able to see this valley.”

“That’s more than I’ve ever been able to do,” said Elrond. “I hate that kind of seeing. It always gives me a terrible headache. But Galadriel has tried to seek for you in the past, Daeron, and was not often successful.”

“By design,” Daeron said, a little ruefully. “Though I will not try to hide from her here—there would be no point, anyway. I don’t blame Celeborn for being angry, exactly, but I do wish he had not put it together so quickly. I’m sorry for bringing such trouble to you, Elrond.”

“You need not apologize,” Elrond said, startled. “It’s not your fault!”

“It really is.”

“Daeron loves to apologize for things that the rest of us would like to thank him for,” Maglor said. 

“And all of you keep wanting to thank me for things you should be angry about instead,” Daeron said. “Lossë was the only one who actually got angry with me for it—and even he forgave me much more quickly than I ever expected.”

“I think swearing a binding oath helped a great deal,” Maglor said. Elrond choked on his drink. “Sorry.”

“If someone is oath-bound I would like to know sooner rather than later,” Elrond said when he recovered.

“No one is oath-bound,” Daeron said. “Mine lasted only a single night—it was meant to make a point, nothing more. Lossë swore an oath to get Eluréd back—but that has of course been fulfilled.”

“Good,” said Elrond. “Please none of you swear any other oaths.”

“I think Lossenol’s was also to make a point,” Celebrimbor said after a moment. “Or—that’s not quite right. But he swore it for Elurín.”

Maglor wasn’t sure it had had the effect Celegorm had wanted, if that was so. Or maybe it was only that Elurín had been half out of his mind with fear for his brother then, and he would appreciate it now. He glanced at Daeron, but found him looking away toward the garden, watching a few sparrows hopping around in the dirt looking for seeds. 

Someone came looking for Elrond before long, and he rose with a sigh. “I hope you’ll all try to get some more rest. If you need anything, only send for me—someone will be able to find me, wherever I am. I’ll look in on Eluréd and Lossenol in a little while.”

“Thank you, Elrond,” Daeron said quietly.

“You need not thank me either, Daeron. We’re all family, in a strange and sort of roundabout way.” Elrond smiled at all of them, and rested his hand on Maglor’s shoulder for a moment before leaving them. 

When he was gone Celebrimbor said, “Told you he’d be happy to see you.” Maglor made a face at him, and was relieved to see him smile, even if it was a tired sort of expression and didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“How are you feeling, Celebrimbor?” Daeron asked. 

“Better, I think. It’s going to take time. I know that. I just—he knows that I’m here, that I’m still alive. That puts everyone here in even more danger, and—I still don’t know what he is capable of.”

“And he does not yet know what we are capable of,” said Daeron after a moment. “Maglor and Elurín joined their voices together by the river, to great effect, but we have never done such a thing.” He looked at Maglor. “I think if we tried it—after we are rested, when we are at our full strength—we could do almost anything.”

In spite of everything, Maglor felt a thrill shoot up his spine. “I still need to rest my voice a little more, between that and what I was doing before,” he said, “but I too would like to find out what we can do. The element of surprise is lost, maybe, but we are not yet powerless.”