*****

Somehow he knew. The scout was explaining – a heavily armed elf was found injured near the camp, when we tried to bring him in for healing he resisted with violence, we have him restrained, what do you want to do, my Lord?

  There was no reason he should know, but somehow he did.

  ‘And his belongings?’

  ‘His pack, cloak and weapons are outside,’ said the scout.

  ‘Is that all? What was in the pack?’

  ‘Supplies, a change of clothes,’ the scout shrugged.

  ‘Nothing else?’

  ‘No, Sir.’ The young man was looking at him strangely, now. What else should there have been, after all.

  Maybe he was wrong then. They wouldn’t have missed the harp.

  ‘Thank you.’

  He walked out of the tent, and found the weapons. If he’d been expecting to see two short swords, the like of which hadn’t been forged since before the First Age – he was disappointed again. Such swords are very recognisable. There was no reason someone would carry them around if they’d fled everything else. Or, more likely – he’s long gone, and this is another elf. One who needs healing, and I have to determine whether it’s a risk to remove his restraints within our camp.

  And yet, when he walked into the tent, he was still expecting to see Maglor curled up on the sleeping mat. So much so, that when this was precisely what he saw, he had to look a long time to make sure it was real, and not in his head.

  Maglor sat up, met his eyes, and went still.

  Neither of them spoke for almost a minute.

  Finally, Elrond turned and closed the tent flap. Then he went to sit beside his foster father. If he’d hoped this would make the words come any easier – he was disappointed. But he wasn’t entirely sure what he was hoping.

  Maglor didn’t look shocked to see him, so probably the scouts who found him had mentioned his name. He wondered, with a bitter twist in his chest, whether that was the moment when Maglor fought to get away.

  ‘They told me you were injured,’ he said, finally.

  Something closed off in Maglor’s expression, and he gestured to his leg, silently. Elrond wanted to snatch the words back – that was the first thing you said, after so long? Not Father, I thought I’d never see you again...some clinical thing you’d say to anybody?

  He unwrapped the hasty field bandage, still groping for something to say that would miraculously convey all his feelings and all the right things at the same time. A paradox, in fact. He was distracted from this hunt by the sight of the wound.

  Fortunately clean water and bandages were close to hand. It was long and jagged, and he didn’t like the look of the swelling and redness around the knee – it was hot to the touch, which suggested infection. But it would probably heal.

  He was caught off guard when he glanced up and caught Maglor’s eye. It was the strange, distant expression he used to wear when he thought the twins were asleep. When he’d just look at them for a moment, then leave silently. It was exactly the same.

  Until Elrond, completely distracted, let the wet cloth trail over the wrong part of Maglor’s leg, and he winced in discomfort.

  ‘Sorry- I’m, I’m sorry-’

  ‘It’s fine. It’s alright.’

  Taking a deep breath, Elrond looked down again. He tried to think of it as any other wound.

  It was extremely hard. About as hard as when he’d had to set Elrohir’s broken arm.

  ‘They all said you were a skilled healer,’ said Maglor, softly, as he was nearly finished. It wasn’t said ironically.

  Long ago their roles had been reversed. Clear as if in a mirror, he could see Maglor carefully cleaning up the scraped knees of a young boy – now, shall we show off your battle scars, or shall we cover it up for a bit? Which do you think will look more impressive to Elros?

  Did Maglor even know about Elros...?

  Finally Elrond looked up. ‘You don’t have a harp,’ he said.

  Maglor shook his head, slowly. Apparently that hadn’t been what he was expecting. ‘No.’

  That, more than anything about Maglor’s appearance or dress, or the way he felt so much more distant, was troubling. That was the thing that he missed.

  ‘It’s not the same any more. Sometimes I get one, and play it for a bit. But it’s not the same,’ Maglor said, haltingly.

  How long was “a bit”, Elrond wondered. Five hundred years?

  ‘We patrol this area fairly regularly,’ Elrond said. ‘You haven’t been here before.’

  ‘No.’ He didn’t offer any more explanation.

  ‘I looked for you,’ Elrond told him. Maglor had to know this. I looked for you – I wanted to find you.

  Maglor nodded. ‘I know.’

  ‘You know?’ he said, caught off guard.

  It was Maglor’s turn to go silent and look away. If he knew – then he didn’t want to be found. He’d assumed this might be the case, if he was still in Middle Earth at all. Hearing it though...

  It had been a long time. It still made his throat and chest tighten. He took a shallow breath to speak, anyway. ‘You are free to go. I would advise you stay the night at least, for your leg. But you’re free.’

  Maglor nodded.

  ‘And I won’t look for you any more,’ he said. It was an effort to keep his voice level. ‘If you don’t wish to be found.’

  Maglor looked at him. Unexpectedly he reached out and gripped Elrond’s arm.

  ‘No. Not...exactly. It wouldn’t be...I should be long gone. I won’t drag my doom into this age of the world, I won’t let it touch anyone else.’ His fingers tightened on Elrond’s arm for a second. ‘But I’m not going back.’

  ‘So, what? You’re just going to keep wandering aimlessly, avoiding everyone who loves you?’

  He heard the last few words before he really thought them through. That was a good thing. He might not have said them otherwise.

  Maglor shook his head slowly. ‘There is no everyone who loves me.’

  ‘Maglor...’ Elrond clenched his fists in frustration.

  ‘This is why I didn’t want to be found. You wouldn’t have to wonder about me or look for me – you could have your life. You wouldn’t have to defend me or forgive me.’ Maglor let go of his arm. ‘You still don’t have to.’

  ‘And that’s what you wanted?’ Elrond asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No,’ said Elrond. ‘No it’s not.’

  Maglor closed his eyes. ‘No,’ he admitted softly.

  ‘What did you want?’

  He was silent for a long time, then finally he took a breath.

  ‘I wanted to see you. Just once. To make sure you knew I loved you.’

  Elrond put a hand on his shoulder. He squeezed, until Maglor opened his eyes.

  ‘Why do you think I was looking for you?’