Unnumbered Tears

Disclaimer: Don't own anything, but wish I did.

Thank you to Gwedhiel0117 for being my beta-reader.

…And, once again, the title's rubbish. I honestly couldn't think of anything better.

He sits alone by the sea, watching the waves as they slowly approach him on the beach. His hair is bound away, so it will not blow into his face. The sea is a darker shade of blue than the sky; the sun reflects off the water like a thousand diamonds.

The sea has so many moods. Only yesterday it was grey and wild, the waves crashing upon the shore as the wind battered the rocks. It is on days like this that he stands alone on cliffs, if he can find one, and watches the sea as it rages. On other days, the sea is calm – almost perfectly still, with only a few ripples on its surface and covered by a blanket of mist. Today, the sea seems serene, with blue waves rolling onto the beach.

Every so often, a boat or a ship will pass on the horizon. He watches, and prays silently that the occupants will reach the shore safely. It is something he has done every time he has witnessed a ship leave for the Undying Lands. Always he stood in the shadows, or at a distance, knowing that they could not see him.

…The beautiful white ship left the Havens, sailing away into the golden horizon. Maglor's attention had not been caught by the figures that remained behind, or by the two small figures that had accompanied the Elves and the white-clad Wizard on board. Instead, he kept his eyes upon the one he had raised, and loved as his own son, indifferent to the steady flow of tears that ran down his face…

…A tall Elf carefully assisted his companion onto the grey ship. The Dwarf muttered something in a low, gravelly voice, and the Elf responded with a high, clear laugh. The deep friendship between them was obvious to any onlooker…

…The dark-haired, bright-eyed twins stood respectfully aside as their grandfather stepped on board. They lingered on the shore for a few moments, talking quietly to each other. Then, side by side, they followed the silver-haired Sinda onto the ship …

Maglor closes his eyes and allows images of his family to waft through his mind. Picturing their faces, he begins to sing, allowing his love for what he has lost to flow through the song; the melody echoes over the waves. He does not know how long he remains sitting on the beach. Eventually, though, he becomes aware that there is someone else nearby, someone he did not even hear approach; he gets to his feet and starts to walk away. He needs to find a safe place to rest soon.

"Maglor."

He stops dead. It cannot be. He turns slowly, fearing that he will see nothing and yet terrified that the owner of the voice will be standing behind him.

His brother Maedhros stands a little way away from him, his red hair blowing in the wind.

This is not possible…

This is not the Maedhros Maglor last saw, agony and despair marring his face as his hand clutched the Silmaril. His eyes have no hint of desperate anger or determination. It is as though all the pain, bloodshed, hardships and suffering both inflicted and experienced have slowly been washed away. But this is also not the brother Maglor remembers from Valinor, before the Silmarils were created – the Maedhros who would lovingly tease his siblings, and who loved to go horse-riding with Fingon through the sun-kissed golden fields. There is wisdom in his face that Maglor has never seen before; for the first time, Maedhros' hair is not the only resemblance he has to their mother Nerdanel.

"…Maedhros?" The name escapes his lips before he realises it. Then the wanderer notices something that convinces him that what he sees is an apparition, that he is finally losing his sanity.

Maedhros has both hands.

Maglor turns and flees along the shore. Running footsteps pursue him, rapidly catching up; Maglor barely has time to register what this means when he is caught by two hands, hauled to a stop, and then wrapped in strong arms.

"…I am so sorry. Forgive me, my brother," Maedhros says, close to Maglor's right ear.

Maglor does not reply. This has to be a dream. This has to be. But no hallucination could hold him so securely.

Maedhros gently lets him go; this time, Maglor does not run. He turns and faces his brother.

"How…how did you get here?" he forces out. "I saw you leap into the chasm…" He remembers running up behind his brother, frantically screaming his name before Maedhros threw himself into the liquid fire below, grasping the Silmaril in his hand.

"Mandos released me; he released all of us – except Father. He said that Father's time is not yet come. If…if you wish…I am here to take you home."

At the sound of his brother's words, Maglor cannot stop tears from welling. Home? He knew that he bypassed the chance to repent and return to Valinor after the War of Wrath. Maedhros was determined to pursue the Oath to the end; Maglor accompanied him not out of desire for the Silmarils, or because of the Oath, but because he could not bear the thought of his brother enduring the consequences alone. And now he is being offered the chance of returning after countless years of wandering.

Valar, if this is a dream…Please, do not let me be mad!

Can he truly go home? Could he really see his brothers and his mother again?

He tries to take a step forward, to try and touch his brother again. He has been tormented by regrets and nightmares about the past throughout his lonely journeying – if he can be sure that Maedhros is real, that this is not a cruel trick his mind is playing …

He collapses against his brother's solid chest, and is at once enfolded in warm arms. The constant sea waves that have occupied his vision for so long are replaced by waves of long red hair. And the tears flow like rivers down his face. He cannot stop them from coming any more than he can stop the wracking sobs from erupting out of his throat. Maedhros holds him tighter and whispers softly in a voice that reminds Maglor of their father trying to soothe him after a particularly terrible nightmare. Maglor grips his brother's shoulders with what strength he has; he does not even try to struggle when Maedhros kneels upon the shore and rocks him in his arms as if he were a child. Long fingers gently stroke Maglor's cheeks in a vain attempt to wipe away his tears.

Eventually, the sobs cease and Maglor rests in his brother's embrace. Do not let this end just yet… After a while, he realises that he has not given an answer to Maedhros' offer of taking him home; but then, does he have to give a verbal reply after what has just happened?

The tide has slowly been coming in; he can hear the waves gradually nearing. The sound lulls him into closing his eyes. He does not protest or even react when his brother gathers him up and begins to carry him along the shore.

Maedhros' feet make no sound upon the stones; Maglor does not even realise he is being carried on board a ship until the faint sound of sails flapping in the wind reaches his ears. Then…

"You found him." The voice is quiet, yet filled with joy.

Maglor forces his eyes open. In the background, he sees Fingon and Finrod; their hair, black and gold, is blown unceasingly in the wind. Another Elf moves into his view: a tall male, with hair as dark as the shadows of twilight. He approaches, his grey eyes fixed on Maglor's face.

Still held in his brother's arms, Maglor reaches out one trembling hand; Elrond takes it, his face looking as though he is about to smile and weep at the same time. "Father," he says. "I have missed you. So many are waiting to greet you, and welcome you home."

The wind fills the sails, and the ship begins to sail away into the blue horizon.

Hope you liked it! Reviews are very welcome.

…Should I continue with this? Or just leave it the way it is? What do you think?