Archive of Our Own

Bright, cold sun rays gleaned over the waving grass, turning the steppe into a flowing sea of silver. Maglor stood upon a small elevation, the only one in the million miles of empty grassland ahead of him. He liked the dry cold and the blinding white light, reflecting almost as if the land was covered in snow. It was Spring, finally, the last snow was almost gone and things would soon flourish. It was time to go, to continue West, until he finally found sea or the end of the world, or the road circling back to Aman. But there was no going back, not East, not West, not before, now or later. Only moving away from fate.

The winter had been cozily passed in his miniscule, felted tent, a gift from a chieftain he had met on the northern shores of the Sea of Rhûn. The prior winter, he stayed with the tribe, but the tension between longing for connection and yearning for silence always tore him apart. In the end, the need to keep moving won over their companionship.

As his eyes drifted through the horizon one last time, before loading the last package onto his horse, he thought he saw a hint of movement, something dark coming forward. Whatever it was, it was still too far away to identify or determine if it was heading his direction. Maglor decided to wait a little longer; as soon as he left his vantage point, he would not be able to see this thing and in the steppe it was always good to be on one’s guard. Many people harboured distrust of Westerners, Elves in particular, and there were plenty songs and tales about the evil cunning that led entire tribes to their demise in the war against the Dark God.

Maglor took out his bow to hunt for a rabbit or a hare. Since waiting was needed, he might as well make good use of the time and find dinner. When he returned to the top of the hill, the dark spot had moved closer. It was a small group of people, four or five. Not all were on horse, but they were moving fast and in his direction. Behind them, a dark, heavy cloud loomed solitary in the fierce blue sky. As Maglor watched, the brightness of the day seemed to be dimmed, even though that was the only cloud in sight.

“Curiosity always bests you,” he heard Maedhros say, in his mind. He chuckled, despite the pang of absence in his heart. Maedhros was perfectly right, of course. Before he gave it much thought, Maglor was already unpacking his tent. Another night in this place would not set him back on his journey.

As he finished setting camp again, he noticed that the group had stopped. The afternoons were quick, here in the North, and soon the sun would be setting. The cloud seemed to be spreading and thickening over them, and it now blocked the sun. It felt like night time, even though there was still an hour before sundown.

The group set a minimal camp as Maglor watched them. He wondered if they had also seen him; if he should ride down to them with one or two of his rabbit as an offering, or if he should make himself known when he lit a fire and visit them only in the morning. While this latter option would signal clearly that he meant no aggression, something impelled him take two rabbits and a hare and slowly ride down the hill and toward the group. As a precaution, he left his bulkier packs covered in grass and took only a thick, felted blanket to cover himself and his horse for the night.

By the time he drew near his new neighbors, it was quite dark, and Maglor wondered if the humans could see at all. They had not started a fire yet. There was absolute silence and Maglor could feel the tension in the air. Not a soul was in sight, but Maglor sensed a nervous energy around him.

In a slow, deliberate move, he picked the game from his saddle and rose it up in the air. “Hello!” he tried in Westron. No one answered. He was less fluent in other mannish languages, but he tried again in a couple of Eastern dialects.

Slowly, a form emerged from behind one of the two tents. It was a woman with unbound hair and the long shapeless gowns typical of the furthest East.

“Hello,” she said in a husky voice. She gestured and two boys came forth, holding bows ready to shoot. An elderly woman also came into sight.

“I bring food,” Maglor said.

The woman bowed her head but did not move to take the rabbits.

“Are you in trouble?” Maglor asked.

The old woman stepped forward, with an emphatic “No.”

“Should I light a fire?” Maglor offered.

“We have no wood,” the woman said with a heavy accent that Maglor did not recognize.

“Out here you wouldn’t have, no. Only grassland. I take it you are not from around here.”

“We come from very far,” the woman said.

“Well, I have some charcoal. We can cook the rabbits.”

Maglor set himself to preparing a small fire with the charcoal and dried peat he had in his saddle bag. The two boys set down their bows and started moving around him, bringing him whatever bits of dried grass from the previous autumn they could find.

“We already burned everything that we could from our belongings,” one of the boys said.

Maglor looked at him but made no questions.

As he worked, the group finished setting up their meager camp of two tents. At least they would have a minimally comfortable night, Maglor thought, as he observed how pale the boys were, and how they seemed a little emaciated. They spoke in low voices and quick sentences and it was hard for him to follow the heavy accent and the numerous unknown words of their dialect. He was intrigued by this small family and started to fear for their fate. They did not seem to have all the skills needed to be out in the wilderness, and it was very peculiar to find such a small group out on their own. The heavy cloud above them was as unsettling as unexplainable.

As soon as the stew was done, the family gathered around the faltering fire and started eating voraciously, only stopping now and then to thank him. They were sullen but not unamiable; reserved but not aloof. The only laughter Maglor heard was when the youngest boy burped very loudly and the older one tried to cover his mouth.

As they cleaned their mugs with grass, Maglor tried to start a conversation that went beyond a few scattered phrases.

“I am Maglor,” he said. “I come from the western shores.”

The old woman rose her eyes from her bowl. “You are an Elf, are you?”

“Ever seen one before?”

“No, but they say you are bad omen.”

Maglor smiled with a tinge of bitterness. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

The old woman shook her head. “Maybe you have something to fear from us,” she muttered. “I am Zhian. Here is Jiefan and Ai and Bai,” she said, pointing at the younger woman and the boys.

“Are you going West, then?” Maglor asked.

“Yes,” Zhian said. “We are hoping to reach Khand and then turn south and find the Harad lands.”

“It is mostly a desert…”

Zhian nodded solemnly. From the corner of his eye, Maglor noticed Jiefan shivering. It was a cold night, much colder than the previous nights, but the young woman was close to the fire and wore heavy layers of clothing. He drew his eyes away. Except from the initial welcoming, she had been very quiet. He had avoided looking at her in detail, lest they thought he meant to make some sort of advance. Two women traveling alone with two boys had probably ran into enough trouble to worry about his possibly intentions. However, he would have liked to examine her face better; there was something about her complexion or maybe the lip shape that reminded him of his wife.

Maglor thought about singing a little, as a way to resume some form of interaction with the family, but it started snowing. Ai and Bai looked at each other with slight alarm, but a stern look from Zhian sent them running to their tent. Zhian and Jiefan exchanged a knowing glance.

“You were very kind to us, Maglor,” Jiefan said, in her low, syrupy voice. “It had been a long time since we had such a good meal. We are not farmers or hunters and traveling in the wilderness has not been easy.”

Maglor bowed his head, accepting the expression of gratitude. He meant to ask them more about their trip, but Jiefan continued speaking. “It is very late and this snow seems to be getting heavier. The only hospitality we can offer is the bigger tent. You should go to sleep now.”

Maglor felt she was tense, almost impatient. He slowly rose to his feet, while looking into her dark, oblique eyes, searching for a hint of what might be preoccupying her. There were no answers.

“Thank you, Jiefan, but I will sleep with my horse. We will keep each other warm and if any wolves come by, Elerrocco will be the first to make the warning call. We’ll be on watch for a few hours.”

Jiefan exchanged a worried glance with Zhian, but the old woman nodded and both went into the larger tent.

Maglor sat by the embers for a little while, watching them die under the snow. Odd, everything was too odd. He rose and stretched his back. Jiefan’s eyes projected before him, as he moved through the dark, away from the tents, in search of some privacy to urinate. Everything had quickly turned white and a layer of snow was building thick enough to reach his ankles. However, as he looked further on, he could see the soft rolling of new grass gleaming under the moonlight. So, it was an island of snow in the middle of the spring steppe, he thought, as he turned around on himself and saw that on every direction the picture was the same.

Maglor thought of his cousin Artanis. Of the family, she had been the most interested in sorcery or, as she put it, understanding the mysteries of nature and of forces that remain hidden. He called for Elerrocco and jumped to his back. They trotted in widening circles around the camp, until Maglor reached fresh grass. It was not as cold there and even his mood seemed to be lighter now. Then he paced back, slowly, feeling a weight growing again in his spirit.

As he drew closer to the camp, he saw a figure – Jiefan, judging by the height and slenderness – moving away from the tents. He stopped Elerrocco and remained still, watching as Jiefan moved further away, and how the snow seemed to be enveloping her in a swirl where everything was movement. Her hair was now uncovered, the long strands lashing around her, and the wind threatened to lift her to the skies. Jiefan stopped walking against the storm around her and stood still for a moment. Then, she started to move her hands and her arms in graceful waves as the wind seemed to relent.

Maglor observed, mesmerized, as Jiefan moved now her whole body in a slow dance, at first delicate and soft, but slowly becoming something else as her movements became seductive, sometimes even suggestive. The snow seemed to dance with her; tendrils of white caressed her as she, oblivious to him, shed one layer after another of clothing to the ground. There was something about her thin-frame that intrigued him beyond the eerie spectacle of a young woman seducing a snow storm, but it was quite dark and the swirls of black hair and white snow did not grant him a full view of her body.

From above, from the very heart of the cloud, came a thicker swirl of snow, a white, greedy tentacle stretching towards Jiefan. For a second, Maglor was paralyzed, watching her terror as she pleaded with gestures, and then with cries. A gust of chilled wind prompted him from his torpor and he kicked Elerrocco. They flew to the center of the storm, reaching Jiefen just as the snow tentacle lifted her up from the ground.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and galloped through the storm, only slowing down to a trot when they reached the edge of the snow. As they dismounted, Jiefan started trembling uncontrollably. Maglor held her tightly, feeling her heart beating in a frenzy and… and a flat chest, and lower, an erect member.

“Jiefan,” he said, slowly drawing away, trying to look into her eyes. His eyes?

Jiefan turned her face away. “It is Jun.”

Maglor nodded and held the young man close to his body. “Are the others safe?”

“Yes,” Jun stammered, as now his chin was shaking violently.

“You are freezing. Let us go back to my old camp. It’s closer and I have warm things there.”

They rode in silence, making a wide curve around the snow circle. The moon was about to set as they reached Maglor’s camp. Jin shivered incessantly and could barely speak or move. Maglor unpacked a blanket and wrapped up Jun in it. He quickly found his stash of coal and made a fire and then put up his tent, skipping many steps as he just needed to create a shelter to help them pass the coldest part of the night.

He helped Jun inside the tent and curled himself around his shivering body. After a while, Jun was still too cold. Maglor undressed and slipped inside the cocoon made by the blanket. He held Jun close until he felt some warmth creeping into his skin. Only then he allowed himself to relax and fall into a light slumber.

They woke when the sun was high up. The tent had great isolation, but from the faint luminosity, Maglor could tell it was noon.

Outside, he heard the voices of Ai and Bai.

“We are here,” Maglor said, while starting to get dressed. By his side, Jun still slept.

“You saved her?” Ai asked, as soon as Maglor stepped out of the tent. He noticed that the boy still referred to Jun as if he were a woman.

“Yes. She’s asleep and I think she still needs more rest.”

The boys looked at each other worriedly. “We should leave here right away,” Bai said.

“Why?” Maglor asked.

He looked around and there were only miles and miles of clear blue sky above them. The wide circle of snow had melted, in its place only frost-burnt grass remained.

Bai lowered his eyes. “It will come back. It always does.”

“Shh, you idiot,” Ai chided.

“It is not here now,” Maglor said. “You boys have bows. How well do you hunt?”

Bai shook his head. “We were not raised as farmers or hunters. Our father was the magistrate of our village. We were going to be scholars and Jun-”

“Hush,” Ai stopped him.

Maglor thought it was best to change the subject. “Well, the bows are useful if you practice your aim for a long time, but you also need to learn how to set traps, which is quicker to learn and more fruitful. I can teach you a few things later on. Right now, we need clothes for Jiefan. Is your Zhian alone? Is she safe?”

The boys nodded. “For now we’re safe. It always comes late in the afternoon,” Bai said.

“Alright, then go back to your camp and bring Zhian here, as well as everything that you can carry. Can you handle a horse?”

Ai and Bai nodded energetically.

“Then take Elerrocco, but do not ride him – use him only for carrying your things.”

The boys left immediately, and Maglor remained looking at the landscape, wondering what was happening.

Hearing a fain moan, he went back into the tent. Jun was lying on his back with an arm covering his eyes. There were bruises on his torso and arms.

“Jun? Are you awake?” Maglor asked.

“Jiefan,” Jun said, sitting up fast as a lightning bolt and covering himself.

“Ai and Bai were here. They will bring you clothes.”

Jun nodded but did not offer the explanation that Maglor wanted.

“Thank you… for last night,” he said at last.

“You are welcome…” Maglor sat down. “What was that? What happened?”

“I do not want to tell you, lest you become as cursed as we are. Or maybe you already are, after last night.”

Maglor bitterly chuckled. “The curses you might carry do not worry me,” he said. “I already have my own.”

Jun hesitated but eventually started speaking. “In my country, there is a legend that beasts of fire live under mountains and sometimes fly in the skies, like gigantic birds of prey, breathing fire over everything in sight.”

Maglor nodded. “Dragons. There were a few in the West too.”

“And then there are other beasts, that are more than clever animals, and for that, much worse than the dragons. They have whips of fire and serve the Dark God.”

“Balrogs,” Maglor said. “They are not legend.”

Jun pressed his lips. “And there are also such beasts of the sea and of the snow, although they are rarer.

“A snow balrog?” Maglor asked.

“If you could call it that. We do not know a great deal about them… only that-”

“That?” Maglor prompted.

“When they are awakened, they prey on warmth.”

Maglor waited. “Human warmth, specifically, or any living thing?” he asked at last.

“Young girls. Any human, really, his preference are virgin girls.”

“Which you are not.”

Jun lowered his head. “I am not a young maiden, no.”

“Then?”

Jun inhaled and stared at the horizon for a while. Maglor looked in the same direction and saw that Ai and Bai were already back at their camp and were helping Zhian pack.

“I suppose that I must tell you my story. You are owed the truth after last night. But… you saw my shame. Were you not repulsed?”

Maglor searched Jun’s eyes, but could not really understand the question. “Why shame? You are the victim of a monster, as far as I can tell. And I am not one to judge harshly others. I have no right to do so.”

“I meant…” Jun looked down at his own body, eyes stopping at his crotch.

“It is a common reaction to fear…” Maglor said, realizing that Jun meant his erection. “And were it for any other cause, it would not be a motive for embarrassment.”

Jun nodded, lifting his eyes to Maglor. “You are kind.” He sat up straight. “Well, on to my story, then.”

“I was the oldest son of the village magistrate. Our villages are not small dwellings like those of the peoples here in the steppe. We were an important family. The oldest son in such families is to become a magistrate, to replace the father in due time. The second son is to become a military man. The other sons may become priests or soldiers too. I was the first son, but I was a disgrace to my family.”

“Why?”

“Because I was, many times, caught playing as a girl; because I was seen wearing my mother’s robes…”

Maglor thought of his cousins, Aredhel and Galadriel, so feminine and beautiful, and yet capable of matching any male, blow by blow. But they did not dress in male clothes, unless for riding or hunting. Even then, Aredhel liked to wear her white gowns.

“Do you wish you were a woman?” Maglor asked, trying to understand.

“I am not sure. It is confusing. I like my body. I was the fastest boy in school and I could do all the things that the other boys did. But even though only my family knew my secret, somehow the other boys knew I was not like them.”

Maglor nodded. “It must have been hard.”

“Sometimes it was. My mother… I felt that she did not love me, not really. My father loved me, but he did not what to make of me. He used to talk of making a man out of me by sending me to an army training camp and when I was fifteen, he did just that. I was a good archer and competent swordsman and for a while my family was pleased. But one day, a man kissed me. He had caught my eye for a while and I was thrilled. I should have known better. When I kissed him back instead of pouncing on him, he hit me. I had been found out.” Jun paused. “I was sent back home in disgrace, and this time, not even my father’s influence protected me from gossip.”

“My mother stopped talking to me, and I barely left the house. But, despite my disgrace, my brothers did not shun me and my father was not harsher or colder to me. But he seemed aged and so very tired. I could see him worrying for the whole family. A stain in the family like this would hinder the prospects of marriage for the daughters and the careers of the other sons.”

“All of this became secondary when two men came to our village one late Summer morning. They had round eyes like yours and skin so while that it was almost bluish. Our elders immediately recognized that they were powerful beings, but despite their aura they seem scared, at least to me, who could see that they too carried secrets.”

“They said they would only stay for the night, and indeed, they were gone the next morning. Despite being the time of the crops, when we woke up, everything was covered in white and all the crops were ruined by the frost.”

“My father was blamed. Everyone had welcomed the strangers with curiosity and the expectation of making some trade or gaining something, but now somehow the disaster was my father’s fault, as he had not expelled the foreigners from the village. There was heated discussion all day long, but at night everyone went back to their homes, and we all waited to see what would happen. You see, the snowfall had not been an isolated incident. Now above the village, a dark, brooding cloud hung in the sky.”

“That night a storm just like the one you saw last night fell upon us. All the windows and doors rattled, and our houses became gelid as they had not yet been insulated for winter. My father went outside, despite my mother’s protests and clamored at the leaden sky. After an hour or two, suddenly the storm stopped. We all went to sleep, but before dawn, the alarm bell sounded. We gathered in the main square while one of the peasants, a shepherd, cried and cursed, saying that his eldest daughter had disappeared after going out to check on the cattle. We searched for her the whole day long, but she was nowhere to be found. That night there was no storm and in the next day, the sky was clear.”

“We had peace for a week. My father had sent scouts to find the two blue men, as they became known, and the scouts had come back only with a parchment in their hands.”

“They refused to come with us, sir, they told my father, but sent you this message. My father was furious that they had not forced the men to return, but the men said they had felt completely unable to move until the men were far away, as if they had been drained of their will. The parchment said something like this: ‘we apologize for not properly thanking you for your hospitality. A great evil follows us, wanting for revenge and it will feed on anything on its way. We only stopped at your village because we are in search of a way to kill it and the legend said in your temple we would find a clue. We are very regretful if any harm came to your people. With any hope, it will soon be on our trail again and you will be free of it.’”

“The blue men were wrong. The next night, the monster struck again. The village was covered in a thick layer of snow, high as the tallest homes. However, no one left their homes and no one was taken. The terror repeated itself over and over, for many days until we could no longer tell when it was day or it was night. My father called the priests and demanded to know if there was any secret they were keeping about the beast. They spoke of an old legend, of a snow demon that lived dormant in the North and fed on warmth, but they had no answers. That night, my father left the house and raised his fist to the cloud. From inside the house, we watched in horror as the cloud lifted him up as easily as if he was a toy, and then dropped him from a height on the soft snow, as it emitted a low rumble, as if its thunder was spiteful laughter.”

“My father came inside, battered and cold, and told us what the demon cloud had said. The next morning, he gathered the villagers and told them that the monster wanted a sacrifice – another beautiful young girl - and after that, it would go away.”

“No maiden came forth to offer herself as sacrifice and no father offered his daughter. My father said that they should draw one. People cried and raised their fists, but in the end, against the council of the priests, they decided to try and trick the cloud, setting it a trap. Our stronger warriors and most cunning hunters would find a way to kill this beast. They failed. The cloud killed them all, including the girl who had been used as bait, and unleashed such a storm as we had never seen. After that, every night it destroyed a different house and killed all those inside.”

“My father said that he would offer my oldest sister in a gesture of appeasing. This was my limit. That same morning, I asked for Zhian’s help. She had raised me and loved me like a mother, but despite her fears, I convinced her to help me. She prepared the family’s noon meal with a strong soporific as I hid away to pluck my incipient beard and to dress in my sister’s clothes. Zhian and I waited for the dark in silence. When it came, I went outside and, in the main square, I danced like a woman as I had always wanted to. I knew that I was graceful and that my clothes were beautiful. I knew that despite being lower than a woman’s, my voice was just as soft and melodious. The village stopped to watch me and the cloud stopped too. The first winds abated and I slowly danced away from the village, feeling the tenebrous attention of the cloud following me.”

“After many hours of this, I was exhausted, but I kept dancing, now in the middle of the fields, the village so far away I could barely see it. The demon cloud must have felt the weariness in my gestures for it spoke to me.

‘What trick do you have for me, little one?’ it asked, teasing me with tendrils of snow.

‘Nothing. I have no knives or swords under my garments and no warrior followed in my rescue.’

‘What do you hope to achieve, then?’

‘Just that you may leave my people. Take me, please, and follow the blue men. You have no reason to hate us – we only wanted to defend our loved ones.’

‘You tried to kill a celestial being, you fools.’

‘We have paid a dear price, Lord Cloud.’

The cloud laughed. ‘Lord Cloud! That is a new one. I like your cheekiness.’”

“The snow swirls stopped their dance around me.”

“‘I will not have you today, little one. You amuse me. Go home and rest and tomorrow we will talk.’”

‘We can talk tomorrow, but I shall never return home, my lord,’ I said.

‘How so?’”

‘My life now is yours, not my family’s. I belong under the great sky, awaiting your command.’

‘Ah, it grovels and it flatters. You’re such an intriguing little thing. Very well, do as you wish. Do not try to fool me, for you have seen what I am capable of.’”

“As soon as the cloud vanished into thin air, I dropped to the ground cold and drained.”

“Zhian soon turned up and covered me with warm clothes. She fed me and let me sleep with my head on her lap, as when I was a child. When I woke, Ai and Bai were there too.”

“‘Go home, brothers’, I said. They said no and asked me what I was planning to do.”

“‘I don’t know. I want to fool it and draw it to the desert. There are places far away where there is no water and no people. What is a cloud if not water? And what is a demon if no one is around for it to torture?’”

“‘You will die before you get there,’ Ai said.”

“‘Maybe, but at least the cloud will be away from you, I hope.’”

“Bai started crying. Ai told him to shut up. ‘Our brother is a hero, see,’ Ai said. ‘No one had the cunning or the strength to do what he did, and yet everyone despises him. Go back and tell mother to honour her oldest son in our absence. I will go on to care for Jun for as long as I am needed.’”

“I told them all to go back home, but Bai and Zhian also refused. My father came to us on horseback but I also resisted his pleading.”

“This was four months ago. We have travelled as fast and as lightly as we can, but I fear we will never reach Harad. Not before the cloud loses its patience and takes me. As you saw, last night, it is no longer pleased with watching my dancing and listening to my stories and my songs. For a while, it did not come every night, and I could rest, but lately it seems to crave more of me.”

Maglor shook his head, trying to process everything he had heard. A snow balrog that play with humans for its amusement, much like a dragon would do. A lustful thing that seeks revenge on two strangers… Two strangers that Maglor himself had tried to find for a long time; Pallando and Alatar, he suspected.

“And now, with my interference?” he asked.

“I think it was jealous. It has never molested Ai or Bai. It was very angry when it discovered I was not a woman, but then it found it amusing, and I fear that if you were not there last night, it would have done more than to just finally kill me.”

“Have you ever tried to kill it?” Maglor asked.

Jun shook his head. “No. One time I took a dagger in my boot but it seemed to feel that something was different. So, I am trying to live enough to bring it to a hot, dry desert and see it shrink and die before my eyes. It is already smaller now that we are in this dry region than it was when I left home.”

Maglor covered his face with his hands. “You are insane. Insanely brave and clever. But you will never make it to Harad, not on foot, not with the malnourishment, and certainly not with the anger that the cloud must be feeling now after I ripped you from its arms last night.”

“So we are doomed…” Jun said. “At least it is not over my home anymore, but I wanted to kill it. I don’t want it to hurt another living being ever again.”

“Your brother was right – you are a hero. But you do not have to do this alone.”

“Do you have an idea?” Jun asked. The timid hope that seeped through his voice broke Maglor’s heart.

“No, but I will find one,” Maglor said.

-------

That night, the cloud loomed over them but did not strike. They stayed inside their tents, Jun in Maglor’s and Ai and Bai with Zhian in another. If the cloud attacked, at least the young ones might be spared. The cloud seemed to hum in an ominous rumble, unsettling Maglor to his core. He tried to think of happier times, to free himself of the gloom but all thoughts seemed to become grey as soon as they entered his mind, and no songs came to his lips.

On the next morning, however, the sky was clear.

Maglor tried to think. The last time he had heard of Pallando and Alatar, they were somewhere North of the Rhûn Sea, perhaps not far from where he was now. But was there any logic in trying to find them and make them fix whatever mistake they had made with the cloud demon? Maglor was doubtful. Wherever he had caught news of the passage of those two, it was always of the mayhem they left behind.

What solutions were there? To somehow negotiate with the cloud and release Jun? What could he have to offer as a bargain chip? And would that not just leave the cloud demon free to haunt other people? But how did one kill such an entity? It was said that his cousin Glorfindel had killed a balrog by the sword. Maglor knew he was a competent swordsman, but his great skill was with the bow. And with song, but no one had ever died by song. And he didn’t sing anymore, not since Maedhros had stepped into the fire chasm.

Fire! Could he make a fire large enough to dry a cloud? No, that was insane.

Two hours before sunset, the sky suddenly turned to ash. The cloud was back and the wind was picking up fast. Jun was pale. He held his brothers tightly and kissed the top of their heads. “I want you to go back home after this. Remember that I loved you.”

Maglor swallowed dry, still trying to think of something, as he saw Zhian painting Jun’s face and dressing him in a robe of flowery silk. A single tear ran down Jun’s face. “Thank you, mamma,” he said, holding Zhian close. He rose and started walking away from the camp. Maglor tried to follow him but Jun stopped him.

“No, you stay back. I can feel it that today… today will be… the last time. I need someone to take them back home safely. I will try to get it to take me as further away from you as possible.”

Maglor felt a knot in his throat. Jun looked tragically beautiful, dressed as Jiefan. He wished he could kiss him in that moment, but Jun was already walking away.

Maglor waited as he saw the cloud moving away with Jiefan, almost obediently, and then obscuring him from sight.

No! It could not end like this. What did he have? His sword, his song, his cunning…

He whistled for Elerrocco and jumped to his back as he galloped to his side. Within minutes, he was inside the cloud, blinded by whirls of snow. He rode on, trying to find Jiefan, but when he saw her, it was now Jun, completely naked, his skin tinged in a deathly blue.

“Noooo!” Maglor yawped as he charged blindly, sword in hand. He cut one of the tentacles holding Jun in the air, making it turn to a fall of ice shards. The cloud howled, but when he tried to cut another, his sword hit such hard ice that his arm was numb and his sword dropped to the ground.

He rode in circles, trying to regain the feeling in his hand and within moments, he was brandishing his bow and arrows, aiming for the heart of the cloud. The cloud thickened and took Jun from his sight.

“Listen!” Maglor called. “Listen! I have a bargain to make!”

“A bargain, little worm,” the cloud said with angry laughter. “What could you have to offer me, besides these useless stings?”

“A jewel! A jewel that moved worlds!”

The cloud laughed again. “Oh, yes, I heard all about those shiny things from my brothers but the things that moved them and the Dark Lord do not concern me.”

Maglor tried to stand firm as the wind pushed him and Elerocco from side to side.

“You are nothing but air,” he bellowed. “Air, air and violence and emptiness! That is why you need to drain the humans to keep alive.”

“I do it for the fun of it. This one was delightful, but it is no longer amusing. You, however, you have something inside you that burns so very hotly. I shall enjoy drinking you.”

Maglor growled. “No, I shall enjoy drinking you.”

What is a bard, if not a lyre with a will of its own? And what is a lyre but strings that make the air move with them? Maglor hadn’t sung in many years. He had performed a few tunes here and there, as a way to honour the many people who had hosted him, but he had not placed his soul in it, because his soul had been buried in regret and sorrow. And, for all the anger and desperation that he might feel now, the first word that left his mouth was the name of his wife, whom he was fated never to see again, and whom Jun resembled so closely. And from there on, his song rose, with the melancholy for his homeland, for his mother’s arms, the light of the Trees that would never shine in his brother’s copper hair again, the blood spelled, the betrayal, death, years for loss upon loss, the curse, the loneliness. His brothers, Amrod and Amras, gone so young, Celegorm, never wholly good, never wholly bad, but always scheming, Curufin, always their father’s pet and still the most jealous, and Caranthir, the funny one. His wedding day, the day his father burned the ships. He had no narrative line, he had nothing but this torrent of feeling pushing forth. There had been a time when, even in Beleriand, he had almost been happy, and that hope also poured forth. Was there enough song in his chest to breathe in a cloud? Maybe not. The cloud seemed thinner and quieter, but it was still immense and powerful. Maglor sang on, of Aredhel, and Artanis, whom had always been his favourites, and of Fingon, of whom he was jealous, because Maedhros loved him so. He loved him too, he had realized, when Findekáno had died. And Elros, who had gone to his island and to mortality, leaving him forever. And Elrond, who always fought with him, whenever he secretly visited, wanting to clean his name and reinstate him to the place he thought was deserved. His son. His complicated, clever son, almost as brilliant as his father.

His father. Maglor faltered for a second and the cloud gained strength. He understood that could not think of this song as a battle with the cloud, lest the very work he needed to do with became empty and meaningless. He closed his eyes and forced himself to go the place in his heart where his father lived, forever strong and full of life, raising his sons, flashing his temper at his brothers, forging his metals, trying to please the same father he loved and hated. How he loved to hear him telling stories at night. His first lyre was a tiny thing that his father had spent weeks perfecting to fit his small arms and hands. How he had loved that instrument and the man that had made it for him. His father, cold and warm, light and dark and all the colours in existence. Brave. Stupid. Loyal. Tender, when no one watched.

And his son. The one he had never met because it was nothing more than a little apple in his wife’s belly when he had left Aman. What kind of a person had he become? Maglor felt his chest burning terribly, but he sang on, until only a whisper left his lips and he had fallen off Elerocco’s back onto the ground.

When he woke, Jun was by his side, touching his face. The cloud was gone. Had he drank a whole cloud with his song?

“You killed it,” Jun said. “You killed it.”

Maglor tried to speak but his throat was completely dry. His heart beat in his chest and he realized that tears flowed hot and heavy on the side of his face.

“What did you sing to it?” Jun asked. “I had never heard that language, in all my studies.”

Maglor shook his head and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, it was dawn. Jun was curled around him, keeping him warm, and Elerocco grazed nearby.

Jun opened his eyes and nuzzled his neck. Then he moved back. “I think I love you.”

Maglor chuckled. “You don’t know me at all.”

“I feel like I do, after hearing you last night. I liked you as soon as I saw you. And I know you are not a man, despite all the care you take in covering your ears. No one, no common man has eyes with that light. We heard of such a people, even in the far East. You’re an elf.”

Maglor nodded. “I am.”

“And you are not evil at all, like they say you are.”

“I am complicated.”

“Like everyone else, then.”

Jun kissed Maglor softly, letting his lips gently awaken Maglor’s. Slowly, through the exhaustion, Maglor felt the stirrings of desire. He had better not take Jun’s offer, not here in the cold ground, not after such a trial, not when he knew he could never fully give himself, and there was the great risk of breaking another heart. And yet, Jun was persistent, and soon there were hands on cool flesh and clothes falling off their bodies. They loved each other until the first rosy gleam turned into patches of fierce orange and purple, and then into the faint yellows of the first hours of the morning. They got dressed in silence and rose up. Maglor let Jun ride Elerocco and walked by his side until they reached the camp. Ai, Bai and Zhian were waiting for them with an effusion of thanks to Maglor and the expressions of relief.

Maglor and Jun were walked into the tent where they slept for many hours. At night, they gathered for dinner. Ai had caught a hare that was barely enough for them, but Maglor celebrated it as the great feat it was for a boy who had never been trained in the arts of hunting.

After the boys and Zhian had gone to bed, Maglor and Jun stayed up talking.

“What are you going to do now? Return home?” Maglor asked.

“I don’t know. I must take Ai and Bai back. They belong there. But I never wish to go back. I feel free out here.”

“You can’t live alone your whole life,” Maglor said.

“Somehow I feel that it’s what you do.”

Maglor smiled. “I suppose you’re right. But it’s not what you need.”

“Is it what you need?”

“I don’t know,” Maglor said.

“I’ll stay with you for a little while, either until you return home, or if you head to the Harad. It is a dry place, but it has a few large cities close to the coast where people mind their business and let each one live as they will. I think Ai and Bai would like that too, even if for a little while.”

“My father must be very worried about them.”

“You can always send word back…”

“I will think about it,” Jun said. “And thank you, not only for saving my life, but for what came after. I had never…”

Maglor shook his head smiling. “It was lovely. But you know that I will not stay…”

“I know,” Jun said. “I know, but it is enough. More than enough. You will always be with me.”

Maglor reached out his hand to caress Jun’s cheek. “As will you be with me.”

Finis
February 2024