Once upon Amon Hen... by Rhapsody

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Story Notes:

Written for moetushie at the yet hope remains; a Lord of the Rings comment ficathon. Moetushie requested: First Age/Third Age - Maglor + any LOTR character - Maglor meets one of the Fellowship. This is the polished version.

Betad by Wenont, polished by me. All mistakes that remain are mine.


 

It was the worst timing he could have imagined; his peace disturbed by the padding of two rather large furred feet that hurried past, once he turned his face to the pathway nearby. Were those of a hobbit or so? He tried to remember through his still sleep-clouded mind. How on earth could they have evolved into something like that? Annoyed that  his rest had been disturbed, here at Amon Hen, the clamour of steel upon steel moved  Maglor to slowly unsheathe his sword, leaving him to wonder from whom or what this fellow was fleeing. His curiosity now peaked, he emerged from his shelter and saw how the hobbit tripped over the moss-covered stone stairs.


‘ ‘Tis a dead end,' he warned the young boy. Huge blue eyes  turned to him in apparent shock, his dark brown curls framed a frightened face. His hands pulled a green grey cloak close and Maglor's heart jumped when he noted the gilded leaf clasp at the hobbit's throat. He is under protection by one of his kin! 

‘I mean you no harm, but if you wish to flee, that is most certainly not the way to go.'

‘I won't. I shan't. I cannot, nay, I will not yield this to you!' The hobbit answered, his arm outstretched while one of his hands clutched around the end of a necklace. Oh, Maglor had seen this before. He had been through this before. Unwanted bile built up at the back of his throat as a power emanated from the young hobbit as an unseen cloak. Maglor's head suddenly spun once he sensed the malice that the halfling held.

‘Oh, trust me. I do not want it. Not even until the end of Arda do I wish to be enchanted by this evil you carry! No, no, no. I will not. Not anymore!' The elf staggered back, his once sure feet searched for his comfortable shelter. He had known in the past years darkness was upon them, he never believed that it could ever be banished so. 

To be so close... that voice came suddenly to him and crept into his mind. Those whispers. No more a thrall like that. He would not have it.

For a fleeing moment they stared at each other, both fleetingly undecided what to do next.

‘Where can I go then,' the Halfling whispered in fright, and Maglor knew that this hobbit's torment had not fully manifested. Oh by the stars, he thought, let him keep his life and not cast it aside if the lure will take him over!

‘Down you must go. To the river and beyond. Whatever is chasing you, I do not dare to think what you might do at this dead end.' Maglor answered earnestly, his hands slightly trembling as he fought the voice calling to him. 

The true high-king of the Noldor, the last one as your father would have... 

‘But he is there, I cannot go that way!' 

Frodo! Frodo! His companions' voices called from below.

‘You must or jump down these heights. You are too young to die now. Frodo, I will try to...' There was no time left to speak for loud thuds upon the stone stairs  announced the arrival of a man most likely... This was still their lands.

Frodo! Frodo!

‘How do you know my name?' How could the boy shut out such a logic thing? The clamour and cries, those orc grunts. Steel kissing steel, the trees called out their silent cries at this carnage that they had to witness.

...it is still the age of the elves. Men are too weak. You know this, Uldor's slayer... 

‘I must go.' Maglor pressed the palms of his hands against his head. ‘Be brave young one.' Pulling his tattered cloak around him, the elf sprang sideways into the thicket and hid his head as best as he could. By doing so, he barely missed a stone that could have knocked him out. He caught a glimpse of muddy boots running past, the tip of a sheath tapping the man's ankles as he hurried up the stairs. By the stars, please let everything be right again... I cannot handle more of this torment. Leave me be, leave me be...

 




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