Chapter Text
Maglor wondered as usual, into the woods, randomly picked a path. During winter, there was no need finding foods. He had stored enough not to starve, but not enough for fighting the winds along the coast. He needed somewhere warmer.
But illusion wasn’t something he’d prepared for. It was no surprising, however, considering all kinds of illusions appeared from time to time. The frequency had dropped, but not entirely. Only this time he didn’t expect to see the shadow of Elrond.
At first it was Maedhros and Feanor, then Caranthir or Amburussa, so now it was Elrond’s turn.
Maglor watched Elrond approached punctiliously. He didn’t ignore the surprising expression Elrond showed the moment he spotted Maglor, and this was new to him. But ghosts themselves were born to be tricky, so the thought just flashed for seconds and disappeared.
He held the dagger tightly, the only weapon he left. Elrond, the mirage, stepped forward and Maglor stabbed his arm without hesitation until they were only inches apart. He expected to see his dagger go through the diaphanous tunic directly, and Elrond turned himself into someone else, or if fortunately, just disappeared.
Instead, he saw blood.
Maglor’s instinct told him to run away, so did he do. There was a foreland not far away, which he was too familiar with, that without distinguishing directions he can arrive there. But Elrond, who he still cannot tell is simply imaginary or real, ran ahead of him before he threw himself into the sea.
“I don’t want to see someone else plunge into sea in front of me. Please, not again.”
He heard Elrond’s voice, though more mature than he remembered. Is this a sign that it was real, or could his mind fool him so well?
It seemed tons of blood flooded Elrond’s forearms, still not strapped. Maglor tried to reach out, astonished by how easily drops of blood soaked his fingertips. He can even felt its warmth.
It was real.
Maglor became even more panic before Elrond stepped forward and held him so tightly that air was squeezed out of his chest. He pushed back, staring at the wound, too dizzy to place the exact spot where he lacerated minutes ago. But Elrond had done that for him also. Deep wounds were soon dealt with bandages from no where, with Maglor’s lips trembling.
“I’m real, Maglor.”Elrond suddenly continued, without asking any questions. “Haven’t supposed it is me who used those bandages first. I prepared them for you.”