47. Maedhros

He sighed. He remembered his name, but it did not feel right – as if something would be missing. He shook his head and looked around in hope to unravel the mystery, maybe with the help of another tapestry.

Instead, something else captured his attention. An elf passed him, noble and tall, with his hair red like fire. He didn't seem to notice Thorongil, though.

"Where are you? I'm coming for you! Do not be afraid!" he was calling. "I must find them…" he muttered to himself. "I need to find them…"

Feeling a strange sense of compassion, Thorongil stopped him. "Forgive me, my lord, but whom are you looking for?" he asked.

The elf looked at him. "I'm looking for two elflings. The servants of my brother have left them in the woods to starve. Please, have you seen them?"

Thorongil gulped, recognizing the elf he has seen in one of the tapestries, hanging by his right hand from the cliffs of Thangorodrim. "No, my lord Maedhors. I have not…" he replied, and sighed as he saw the look of anguish upon the noble face. It was the face of one used to lead, but also of one who has suffered much.

Thorongil thought, the fragments of history he has learnt as a child coming forth in his mind. He knew which two elflings Maedhros was looking for. If Elurín and Eluréd really died in the woods of Doriath, they should be here, in Mandos, as well… A sudden decision came to him. "I will help you looking for them, my lord!"

The elf looked genuinely surprised by that. "But I don't even know you…"

Thorongil shook his head, unsure what to tell to the eldest son of Fëanor. He had the feeling he doesn't know himself either, that he is missing something… "I am… just a sellsword, my lord," he said finally.

"A sellsword? But I cannot pay you… I don't know where my money is…"

Thorongil smiled. "That is all right. I gave up that career already anyways…" Yes, he did. Somehow he knew it was the truth.

Maedhros hesitated for a moment, and then smiled as well. "Then I accept your help. I don't know how long I have been looking already, but you are giving me hope again. Will you come with me?"

"Yes," Thorongil replied simply. "I'll come with you."

They wandered the halls aimlessly for some time. They passed several elves that Thorongil did not recognize. No Men, though. He was the only Man in these halls, and it was a disturbing thought. He did not know why he ended here, and so he rather focused on searching for the two elflings.

They came across some children after a time that evaded their perception. The elflings were playing hopscotch. Their faces were focused on the game, and did not perceive their surrounding - just like children anywhere. Even here, in Mandos… Thorongil felt sorrow at that sight. What happened to them that they had to die so young? Orcs? Raids? Maybe even… kinslaying? He glanced at the Elf beside him. It was even possible that they fell by his hand. A cold shiver run down Thorongil's spine at that thought. The elflings did not notice the intrusion. They were too intent on the game, lost in their own world. Maybe they even didn't know they are in Mandos.

Maedhros watched them for several moments, and then shook his head. No, Elurín and Eluréd were not among them…

They continued further and the mist in the halls thickened. The pageants on both sides of the corridor depicted a forest – deep, dark, endless until where the eye could see. The corridors formed a maze, the crossings and blind braches so numerous that he lost count of them after some time. Even the air had the damp, mossy smell of deep woods in it. If there wouldn't be stone tiles under their feet, Thorongil would not be so sure that they somehow didn't get into a real forest.

When he looked at Maedhros though, it seemed to his the Elf was in a real forest. His step was cautious, as if something dangerous could jump from between the dark trees in any moment.

"Elurín! Eluréd!" he called, but only echo returned to them.

"They are not here," Thorongil turned to him suddenly.

Maedhros scowled, and the brief anger passing his face would force many to step back.

Thorongil did not move. "They are not here," he said again. "We are not in Doriath."

"What do you mean?" Maedhros was still scowling. "It must be Doriath! I remember this place. Two of my brothers died here…"

"It was not here, Maedhros. We are in Mandos, and the spirits of those children were innocent. They would not be left wandering in a dark wood where they died. It is you who is tormented by the memory, not them. Come," he continued gently, "we will get away from here…"

Maedhros still remained standing where he was, and so Thorongil extended his hand to him. Hesitantly, the elven lord took it, and Thorongil led him back the way they came from, wondering how long it will take them to find the way through the maze. But when he turned, with surprise he found out that there is no maze – just a single short corridor with the tapestries of a forest on both sides. They passed it quickly and found themselves at the fountain with Valar again.

"We are in Mandos…" Maedhros whispered, as if it was only now that he realized what Thorongil was saying.

"Yes, we are…"

"But I need to find them…" the Elf murmured softly, sounding a little lost.

"Maybe there were already reborn," Thorongil suggested quietly.

Maedhros shook his head. "No, they can't. They…" his voice broke. "They have to forgive me…"

Thorongil said nothing, but laid his hand on the Elf's shoulder. "Then we will find them."

Maedhros just nodded shortly and followed Thorongil, whose stride was suddenly long and purposeful, but if he was really that confided or only acted so for his sake, Maedhros could not tell, nor did he care.

They walked for some time, passing the various tapestries, each telling an own tale. Thorongil glanced shortly at each of them, but did not stop. If there was any pattern to the scenes depicted, he could not tell it, and the one he was looking for eluded him. It could be hours that they walked the misty corridors. It could be days… He walked quickly past the tapestries, and his head spun from the speed the pictures were changing, for each that they passed seemed to pull him in – he was in a daze, but never slowed. Maedhros did not speak for all the time, following him almost blindly.

Finally Thorongil seemed to find what he was looking for. He smiled slightly, and with obvious relief stopped before a tapestry, waiting for a moment until his mind was able to focus on the picture.

Maedhros looked at it carefully as well. There were two little boys – like, and yet unlike those he was looking for. He voiced his doubts immediately: "These are not them."

Thorongil shook his head slightly. "Don't you recognize them?"

"No…" Meadhros breathed out.

"Look carefully."

He did. The tapestry seemed to move before his eyes…

"Elrond and Elros!" he exclaimed suddenly.

Thornogil nodded with a smile.

"But they are not Elurín and Eluréd…" Maedhros looked at him in confusion.

"No," Throngil confirmed. "But they have forgiven you. You could not find the little brothers of their mother in the forest even though you tried. You and your brothers were the reason why their mother flew away with the Silmaril. And yet they have forgiven you. It is not the forgiveness of Elurín and Eluréd you seek… They have never even seen you before they died, they did not know who you are. They are not here anymore. You need to let go of them…

Now Maedhros looked at him carefully, with a piercing look of one of the mightiest among the Eldar of old. "I know you…" he said suddenly. "You are a child of Eärendil and Elwing!"

Thorongil shook his head slightly in confusion. "I am a Mortal… that much I know."

"But you are from their line…Don't ask me how I know that, but I do."

"Yes…" Thorongil whispered suddenly. "I am a descendant of Elros, and a foster son of Elrond. I am not their child, but I am of their line…" He looked at Maedhros as if seeing him for the first time. "And I have another name. Not Thorongil, but… Aragorn! Yes, I am Aragorn!" he smiled. "Aragorn…" he repeated again. It sounded just right on his tongue. It was his name.

A slight smile played in the corners of Maedhros' lips. "Thank you for showing me this tapestry, Aragorn. But now… I need to think…"

Aragorn nodded. "I will leave you."

Maedhros nodded thankfully, his sight already lost in the tapestry. As Aragorn walked away, he could see the Elf touching it slightly with his fingertips, whispering something to himself.