The Harbor of Númenor. Waves crash against the stones of the pier, and the wind flutters flags bearing the symbols of the kingdom. On the dock, amidst the crowd of greeters, stands a tall man with dark hair and a bright, welcoming gaze. It is Elros, the King of Númenor. He has been waiting for this moment, and when a ship appears on the horizon, his face lights up with a smile.
Maglor and Maedhros step ashore. Both look worn out from years of wandering, but something akin to peace glimmers in their eyes. They barely manage to step off the gangplank before Elros rushes to meet them.
Elros: (laughing, hugging them both at once) Two of my fathers — together in one place! What more could I ask for?
Maedhros, caught off guard, looks slightly bewildered, but after a moment, his expression softens, and he hugs Elros back. Maglor watches his foster son with a smile, barely holding back tears.
Maedhros: (with a skeptical but warm tone) You’ve grown even taller. Careful not to outgrow us old men.
Elros: (laughs) Too late, uncle. You both lag behind.
Maglor: (smiling, tilting his head slightly) We always knew you’d go farther than us.
Elros steps back to look at them both with warm affection. The sunlight reflects in his eyes, but behind the joy, a quiet sadness is hidden — he knows such meetings are now rare and precious.
Elros: So many years have passed. How strange it is to see you here among men, when it seemed that world was far behind.
Maedhros: (quietly, with a touch of sorrow) Some worlds stay with us, no matter where we are.
Elros: (seriously but gently) Then we will create a new world here, together. Like before.
He gestures for them to follow him into the city, and they walk behind him. The warmth of the sun on their faces and the noise of Númenor’s streets momentarily make them forget old losses.
---
Later, in Elros’s residence
The brothers and Elros sit at a long table, talking. The table is cluttered with maps, books, and wine cups. Maedhros leans back in his chair, listening to Elros recount tales of his rule, while Maglor silently plucks the strings of a harp lent by local musicians.
Elros: (smirking) You know, Maglor, your songs are still sung here. Though some have been changed so much that you wouldn’t recognize them.
Maglor: (weakly smiling) That doesn’t surprise me anymore. The important thing is that they are sung.
Maedhros: (nodding, but his expression becomes thoughtful) And what do you hope to build here, Elros?
Elros: (with a mixture of confidence and sadness) A home. For those tired of war and suffering. A place where people can live as they never could in Middle-earth.
Maedhros: (bitterly, but softly) A home... I hope you succeed where we failed.
Elros places a hand on Maedhros’s shoulder, as if to show he is not alone. Maglor watches them, feeling the warmth of the moment. For the first time in a long while, it feels as if they have found something akin to peace — even if far from home.
Elros: (gently) I need you here. It’s not Aman or Middle-earth, but we can start anew.
Maglor and Maedhros exchange glances. A silent understanding passes between them: they have lost much, but not everything. And now they have a chance — not perfect, but a chance for a new beginning. In the silence, broken only by Maglor’s light melody, they agree without words.
---
At sunset, the brothers and Elros step out onto a balcony. The sea breeze brings fresh air, and on the horizon, beyond the golden waves, lies their new future.
Maedhros: (looking into the distance, almost hopefully) This place... could be home.
Maglor: (nodding, looking at Elros) And we will be with you for as long as we can.
Elros: (smiles, embracing them both) Then it’s settled.
