Gohen: Redemption

Beta: Ilye, Fimbrethiel

chapter twelve

It was late when Erestor entered the apartment. The silence was almost deafening as he tossed a large packet of papers onto a nearby table. He shed his coat and turned, gasping when he finally realized Maglor was seated on their worn sofa, watching him with intent, angry eyes.

"Maglor," he sighed, unbraiding his hair. "You shouldn't sit in the dark, still as death. It's not natural."

Maglor snorted. "And we're oh so natural," he quipped sardonically.

Erestor sighed, glancing around the vacant room. "Where is David?"

"Your pet is asleep in your bed," Maglor said, his tone warning Erestor that the elder vampire was not happy.

"Since when did it become my bed, Maglor? I do recall someone else occupying it other than myself." Erestor crossed his arms and glared down at Maglor. He was in no mood to play with Maglor's jealousy, and he just wanted a shower and some rest.

Maglor's lips were tight, his eyes burning with an inner fire. "It became yours when you brought the stray home and insisted on keeping it." Maglor stood up, now taller than Erestor, and continued to stare at him. "You know what happens when you become involved with a mortal, when your heart becomes involved."

"Don't you dare," Erestor hissed, narrowing his eyes.

Maglor raised an eyebrow. "Dare what, lover? Tell the truth? Fran died because you loved her!"

"She died because of the fire!" Erestor shot back.

"Had you not married her, Erestor, she would not have been there. Violet would not have been there!" Maglor loomed over Erestor, not sure what he was angry at any longer. "Fran died because of you, and Violet was taken because of me. Do not sentence David to the same type of fate."

Erestor measured Maglor carefully. "What did he say, Maglor?" When he received no response, he pressed forward. "What did David say that has you so upset?"

They stared at one another, Erestor silently demanding an answer and Maglor carefully weighing his options. When Erestor thought Maglor would simply refuse to respond, Maglor surprised him by cupping his face in a vicious grip and kissing him. The kiss was not loving or tender, but bruising and possessive. Maglor thrust his tongue between Erestor's parted lips and laid claim to the younger vampire's mouth as he had on only a handful of occasions.

When Maglor finally released him, pushing him away, Erestor stumbled back against the wall, panting. "What did he say, Maglor?" he asked again, his lips aching.

Maglor, his back to Erestor, spoke in a soft, defeated voice. "He said that you needed something, but that something was not me."

Erestor was silent for a few moments, confusion robbing him of speech. "Maglor. You always knew that I needed him, not you. I need him," Erestor said sadly. "And you have never needed me, melethen. I love you, and you love me, but we are not in love with one another. Our hearts are not ours to give."

"Would you give me your heart, Erestor, if it was free to give?" Maglor asked bitterly. "The one who stole your life from you? Could you love me as you loved him?"

Erestor shook his head. "That is not the point. I can't. And you don't want my love. You have a love--"

"Who is dead, Erestor!" Maglor cried, facing Erestor with tears shimmering in his eyes. "He is dead, and I have been without him or the warmth of his love since the world changed." Maglor's hands were clenched in fists as he spoke. "While you carry some hope that Glorfindel will somehow return to you, I am not blessed with such a hope."

"He could--"

He was cut off again. "No! His deeds were so terrible that he will never return from Mandos' halls." Maglor lifted his chin. "He is as damned as I am, and so my life will forever be as grey as it is now."

Erestor's throat tightened and his ears rang. Something in his heart told him not to ask, not to wonder at who this mysterious lover of Maglor's had been or what his fell deeds were, but his lips formed the words despite his mind's cries. "Who was it, Maglor?"

Eyes like a raging sea met Erestor's levelly, the pewter depths awash in misery. "My brother. Maedhros."

"Maedhros?"

Maglor nodded. "We became lovers in Aman, before crossing with our father to Middle-earth. He was my heart, my life, all that I held dear. I have never told any that we were lovers, but I do not see the need for such discretions now, do you?" he asked, almost sarcastically. "And, since we are doing away with all secrets concerning my loves, we should perhaps put one more to rest." Maglor approached Erestor as he would his prey, feral and dangerous. "What do you remember of your death, pen vorn?"

"Light. Brilliant light flooding Angband," Erestor said, his eyes riveted on Maglor's. "Soft words and grey eyes."

Maglor leaned closer. "Your hatred toward me is ill-directed. I was not the one to condemn you to your fate. My brother saw you lying bleeding and broken, sweet and innocent, and he bit you. He drank from you and then he fed you his own blood. You awoke in my rooms, one of us, and he was gone. I am not the source of your misery, Erestor. Your creator is dead and gone, forever damned to the cold of Mandos' halls." Maglor's face was so close to Erestor's now, and the elder vampire's eyes were narrowed in anger. "Be content in that knowledge," he hissed, instantly regretting the harshness of his tone. He was not angry with Erestor, of course, but the younger Noldo was at least an available target.

The words rang in Erestor's ears. "Why did you never tell me?"

"Ah, but that would have meant revealing too much to you," Maglor chuckled mirthlessly.

Erestor stared, still stunned at the revelation. What could he say? Worthless platitudes? Maglor would scoff at such sentimental nonsense. No, there was nothing that the younger vampire could do to bring any measure of consolation to the elder. So, Erestor did all he could do -- he changed the subject.

"About David," he began, clearing his throat. "There is something you should know about him. I found this picture in his wallet this morning. This is why I left for the day. It is a photo of him with his father. Tell me what you see." Erestor handed the picture to Maglor, who sat down heavily on the sofa.

Maglor sighed heavily, clearly in no mood for such foolish games. He accepted the picture and glanced half-heartedly at it. All at once, he stood bolt upright, and his sigh became a gasp. "Tell me this is a coincidence."

Erestor crossed his arms and shook his head. "I wish I could. But I spent the day in the library archives tracing the lines, all the way back into the special collection that only I have access to. It is no coincidence."

Maglor looked more closely at the picture. The resemblance was unmistakable. The ancient Noldo mentally stripped away the eyeglasses, the modern clothing, and the camcorder around the shoulder, and replaced them with a light helm, ring mail armor emblazoned with the White Tree of Gondor, and the sheath of Andúril, Flame of the West.

He was staring at King Elessar.

Erestor continued, "This is why his family could sense us. This is why it was so difficult for me to penetrate his mind. His is the line of the Númenoreans. Diluted almost beyond recognition, to be sure, but a trace of that noble blood still flows in his veins."

"And he doesn't know?" Maglor asked, but held up his hand. "Stupid question. Of course he doesn't know, or else he would have a far better idea of who we are."

"So, what do we do now?" Erestor asked, sitting on the arm of the sofa as Maglor fell into the deep cushions.

Maglor continued to stare at the image. "What do you think we should do?"

Erestor thought for a moment before saying, "Do we tell him the whole truth?"

"Do you think he would believe us?" Maglor still did not look up at Erestor for fear the younger vampire would see the smile tugging at his lips. How he loved to tease Erestor, and the lighter mood they were creating was a welcome respite from the earlier confessions he had made.

Erestor opened his mouth, and then closed it again with a sigh. "Are you playing questions with me?"

Maglor smirked. "Would you like me to?"

"Damn it, Maglor!" Erestor snapped, smacking the back of Maglor's head sharply.

"Statement! My point." Maglor smiled up at Erestor while rubbing the sore spot where Erestor had struck him.

Erestor glared down at his lover. "This is no time for games!"

Maglor laid a hand on Erestor thigh as he spoke, his smile never leaving his lips. His tone took on an almost hysterical quality. "My dear Erestor, there is no better time. You have just revealed to me that the mortal who sleeps in our bed is none other than the culmination of the long-forgotten line of Númenor, and that his father and uncle, who lay even a generation closer to that ancient power, are but a provocation away from seeking to destroy us utterly, and are perhaps the only living mortals with the ability to do so!" Maglor threw his hands up in the air with exaggerated glee. "Games may be all we have left!"

"We'll relocate," Erestor shot back.

Maglor sobered, countering with, "They will find us!"

"We'll have David speak to them for us," Erestor tried, desperate to find a solution to the problem.

Maglor shook his head. "They will not listen!"

Erestor stood up and angrily stared at Maglor. "Then what do you suggest, Maglor? Hunt them down?"

Maglor stilled, fixing his stony gaze on Erestor. "I fear, melethen, that they will come for us soon enough."