Forgotten

Disclaimer: “The Silmarillion” and all related characters, places, objects, etc. are property of the Tolkien Estate. I make no claim to them. This story was written for entertainment purposes only.

Elros lay awake, wrapped in his cloak on the cool sand. Maglor and Maedhros had chosen a cave on the beach as their shelter for the night. The crashing, rolling waves had lulled Elrond and the two adult Elves into a deep sleep. Elros, however, could not sleep, bathed in the pale silver glow of the moon. He stared up at the sky, picking out constellations and trying to count the pinprick lights. He was greatly startled when he saw a large, dark shape descend to the rocks not far off, white wings flapping behind it as it disappeared behind the boulders.

He sat up with a start. “Elrond!” he whispered loudly, shaking his twin’s shoulder.

Elrond moaned drowsily. “What is it?”

“Something is behind those rocks,” Elros said urgently, pointing.

Elrond sat up and squinted at them. Though he had Elven sight, he was still half-asleep.

“There is nothing, Elros. Go back to sleep,” he murmured after a moment, lying down again.

“There is!” Elros insisted. “I saw it! It had great wings and flew down behind those rocks.”

Elrond sighed. “Very well. We shall go see what it is.”

The Elflings tiptoed out of the cave, carefully stepping over Maedhros’ outstretched legs. He was guarding the entrance, his sword clasped in his left hand, his crimson hair strewn about the sand like ribbons. Twice, Elrond nearly tripped, but regained his balance in time. When they’d safely exited the mouth, they broke into a run, their bare feet kicking up silver sand behind them.

As they reached the boulders, they began to tiptoe again, terrified of the creature behind them. It could be anything, and they were only Elflings.

So they were very startled to see a young woman sitting in the sand, vast white wings spread out to either side. She wore a twilight blue gown, and her hair spilled down her back in a black river. The Elflings gasped.

“Who are you?” Elrond asked after a few moments of silent staring.

“So you know me not?” the woman asked, standing. Her pure white hands glistened in the moonlight as she reached for the boys.

With another gasp, they recoiled. The woman gave a small sound of anguish.

“Think. You have seen me before,” she said, an undercurrent of desperation in her voice.

Elros tilted his head to the side, gazing at her a moment. “I recognize you, though I do not remember meeting you before.”

“So I have been forgotten,” she whispered, dropping her hands.

“Wait!” Elrond said suddenly. “I know where I have seen you. You are in my dreams. You sing to me, and are laughing. But you never had wings in my dreams.”

“No, these wings are new,” she said softly.

“Why do you not laugh?” Elrond asked. “You have a beautiful laugh.”

The woman took his face in her hands. “My child, you have the flattering tongue of your father,” she said.

“You know Father?” asked Elros. “Then how have we not seen you before?”

“You may not know me, but I am your mother, Elwing,” the woman said.

“Our m-mother?” stammered Elrond. “But we knew nothing of you!”

“You mentioned your father,” Elwing said, looking down at them. “Who is he? For your true father sails onboard Vingilot, the ship of Valinor.”

“True father?” echoed Elros. “But Father is our only father!” he insisted.

“Who is he?”

“Maglor, son of Fëanor,” Elrond said.

Malgor, meanwhile, had stirred from sleep. He looked around the cave – and noticed that the twins were missing. He stood sharply, grabbing his sword. He carefully made his way around his brother and ventured onto the beach to search for them. Seeing the boulders, he ran toward them and darted around them.

“Elrond! Elros!” he called, sword in hand.

He found them in the arms of Elwing, daughter of Dior. Elros’ hand was tangled in her hair, and Elrond was leaning on her shoulder, both sheltered by the circle of her wings.

“Elbereth,” he breathed, lowering his blade.

“Do you come to steal them from me again, son of fire?” she asked, her blue eyes sharp in the night.

“I did not steal them from you before,” Maglor whispered.

“Aye, you only murdered my people like the Kinslayer you are,” she spat.

“I – I thought you were dead,” he said, trying to make her understand. “My brother would have killed them – “

“As he killed my father and mother?”

“I had no hand in that!”

“But your kin were the reason,” she said. “The reason my family perished, the reason my husband and I are confined to Valinor, the reason I cannot hold my sons the way a mother should hold her children.”

Maglor swallowed hard, trying to find something to say. He could not deny what she said. The bloodstains on his sword were proof.

“Father has cared well for us,” Elros said in Maglor’s defense.

“Has he?” Elwing asked, almost sarcastic.

“He has,” Elrond confirmed.

“At least he did one good thing in his blood soaked, cursed life,” she muttered.

“Lady, I do not do these things of my will. The oath was made in anger, and only by the power of Iluvatar can it be undone,” Maglor said gently, kneeling in front of her. “I do not wish to do these things, but my father sealed me to it when he died.” He bowed his head and whispered, “I will give you back your children.”

“Alas, that cannot be,” Elwing said sadly, tears in her eyes. Her heart was softened suddenly. “I must return to Valinor. Manwë gave me permission to come here this night, to see my children once more. I must leave at dawn.”

“I beg your forgiveness,” Maglor said, grasping the hem of her gown. “I wish nothing more than to stop this. I would gladly accept the darkness as payment for my deeds, but my brother wishes to continue our search, and I must follow, for he is my elder.”

“I cannot forgive what you have done to our people, but I can forgive you for what you’ve done to me. It will not undo any of the sins, but you have tried to repent by raising my sons. Knowing they are safe is heartening for me, and seeing that your hands, though they are blood-stained, have cared for them thus far, allows me to see the good in you. I forgive you.” The tears poured down her face freely, and her fingers clutched tighter at the Elflings.

Maglor wept as well. He dropped the blue material and took her hand, kissed it. “Thank you, Lady. Thank you.” He stood again and looked down at the mother and her children. “I shall leave you to see each other. The sun will rise soon.”

He took his sword and rounded the rocks, heading back to the cave.

Elrond looked up at Elwing, his breath stirring her dark tresses. “What were you talking about, Mother?” he asked.

Elwing told them everything, about the ruin of Doriath, about the destruction at the mouths of Sirion, of the Silmarils and the oath of Fëanor. The Elflings were shocked to find out what their foster father had done, but Elwing told them gently, for she wished not for them to hate Maglor.

By the time she finished, the sun had started to rise.

“Children, I must go. I must return to Valinor,” she said, finally relinquishing her hold on them.

“But we only just met you,” Elrond said, touching her cheek.

“I know, my loves, but I am bound by the word of the Valar, and I must obey,” she said, weeping.

The twins embraced her tightly, and she them, and as the sun peeked over the horizon, she kissed their heads. “I shall always love you, my children. Know that. Though I cannot be with you, I shall always love you.”

They said their goodbyes, and Elwing rose into the sky, her wings turning pink and blue and gold in the light of the rising sun and fading night. The twins held each other and watched. Maglor saw her from the cave and ran to meet the Elflings. They watched as she disappeared into the coming day, and finally, when she was gone, Maglor lead them back to the cave.

And this time, Elwing would not be forgotten.