Thank you for the patience, friends, apologies for the delay in the epilogue! Please proceed with caution - extreme non-canon and unorthodox approach to the story ending. I am ready to answer all your questions about my decisions, the rest I leave to your imagination.

P.S. The poems in the story are real epitaphs. First one by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, last one (the battle song) - by Robert Louis Stevenson.

Thank you!

"But still that soul is human,

With human ways, and so

I love my love in spirit,

As I loved him long ago...

So with hands together

And fingers twining tight,

The two dead lovers drifted

In the golden morning light..."

Maeglin gently followed the fading letters on the tombstone of his parents with his fingertips and smiled. The breeze from the green depths of Nan Elmoth brought the ambrosial scent of niphredil. Even after marrying Glorfindel and Echtelion and moving to Gondolin his thoughtful sisters never failed to place fresh flowers on the grave. Bitter-sweet memories of childrens' laughter echoing among the emerald arches of the forest and his mother's song, the loving watchful eyes of his father, always standing protective and proud nearby sunk his heart in the mist of melancholy. Maeglin sighed and surrendered to the feeling, savouring it and thanking Eru for giving him the chance to experience such happiness in the past.

A delicate hand brushed away the long strands red-browinsh hair from his shoulders.

- Atal stine dim'ara... whispered Aredhel. Maeglin smiled to his beloved and rose to his feet. It was time.

The council of Elrond was waiting.

The Black Legion of Nan Elmoth in its galvorn armours stood tall and proud next to their Gondolin brethren. When Morannon, the Black Gate opened and started spilling the vile hordes of Mordor it was a fierce dark spot among the golden sea of elven warriors. Maeglin was a respected warlord, leading by example, and was always the eye of the storm. The orcs were swept away by the black merciless force of nature and frantically fled as they spotted the galvorn blades of the feared Black Legion and heard the clear elven voices of Nan Elmoth's warriors, singin their battle song while slashing through Sauron's swarms:

"Under the wide and starry sky

Dig the grave and let me lie.

Glad did I live and gladly die,

And I laid me down with a will.

This be the verse you grave for me:

Here he lies where he longed to be;

Home is the sailor, home from the sea

And the hunter from the hill."

The minstrels of King Elessar were singing ballads about the bravery of the Black Legion of Nan Elmoth and its leader. But far away from the festivites, celebrating the victory over the evil of Sauron and beginning of a new age, the wind played gentle with the leaves of the magical forest, whispering an undying tale about the love between a mortal and an elf.