I follow the faint sound of a mournful singing voice for what seems like hours. The coast is long, the wind is harsh, and yet, I still cannot find the singer.
'Or does he know I search for him?'
Changing tactics, I stop and sit on the rocky shore, remembering my father's story. Maglor, Son of Feanor, smiled rarely then. But he was always kind to the children of his youngest brother's family. The best uncle anyone could ever have.
The crunch of stone beneath foot alerts me. Standing slowly, I turn to face the haggard, sorrowful, care-worn countenece before me. "Why do you look for me? What is your purpose here?" His voice was rough, both from his singing and from the harsh sea-air.
'And countless tears.'
"My only reason for coming here was to meet you, sir. My father told me you were kin."
Flashes of surprise and disbelief wash over my uncle's face. I can see him search his mind, going through the lineage, searching for the connection. I bring out father's leather bound book from my pack. The one filled with our family's history. The one that led me to my uncle. Maglor takes it, recognition in his eyes as he looks up from the cover to search my face.
'To find the family resemblance.'
"Your father was fair, from what I remember. But you carry the dark features of the family," he said.
"My mother was fair as well. I am an oddity to them, for my sister is fairer than both our parents."
"Now that you have found me, nephew, what more do you want?" So, he could see that I had another reason to come here to him. My father said he could read one like a book. Nothing could be hidden from him.
'Will he accept my offer?'
"Come with me, uncle. Leave this lonely shore."
He scrutinizes me closely. "Why?"
"Why not?" Two can play at this game. But his brows furrow and I know he won't accept that answer. "To reintroduce yourself to Middle-earth, uncle. To see the beauties I have. And..."
He stands silently, waiting for me to finish.
"And become part of our family once more."
He is silent, as he looks away, leaving me to wonder if he will come away. For countless ages, he has known nothing else but the sea-shore; nothing more than the pain of loss from his Oath unfulfilled and family who have come and gone. Unnumbered legends have been made of his deeds and his seeming survival. None knew for sure that he still lived. Except my father. He knew.
'Is he ready to leave? Will he come?'
"I fear I have no horse to bear me away. Nor do I have clothes other than what you see," he said slowly, showing me the ripped and tattered tunic and trews.
"Will you come?" I ask, not sure of his agreement.
"Aye. I will come." Words fail me, and I embrace him. I release him quickly, though, as he is stunned by the physical contact.
'I have family once more.'