A/N: I do not own Middle Earth. This was originally posted to my Tumblr, sweetteanddragons.

Belladonna Took had just had quite the satisfactory adventure. She had at last seen the sea, just as she wished to, and so perhaps tomorrow she should return home.

Just at the moment, however, she had nothing better to do than lie in the sand and look up at the stars. Her favorite was the Evening Star; she had always loved the stories attached to it.

For a moment, it almost looked as if it were getting larger, but she shook off this fancy with a laugh.

Except it quickly became increasingly obvious that it was not just an illusion. The star was getting larger - and, presumably, closer.

Belladonna pushed herself up onto her elbows and her eyes grew wide. It was quite close now, so close that she rolled to one side and put her arms up over her face, as if that would do anything in the face of whatever was happening.

Sand sprayed up into her face. Belladonna tentatively cracked her eyes open.

There was a pretty little piece of jewelry in the sand beside her. A white gem blazed in the center of it.

She had no idea what kind it might be. Hobbits weren't much for such things, and the stories didn't mention it. They only spoke of a brave mariner set in the stars to honor his courage. An elf had started to tell her more once, but then Master Elrond had approached, and he had shut his mouth rather guiltily.

Still, it was a pretty sort of mathom, and if it really was a star, she probably shouldn't just leave it lying around. What she should do it with it, she wasn't quite sure; take it to Master Elrond, perhaps? He was at least more likely to know what to do about it than any hobbits of her acquaintance, and perhaps if he had no use for it she could keep it as a souvenir.

She picked it up cautiously - it was a star, after all, and might well be hot - but it didn't burn her at all. She slipped it into her pack and settled in to sleep for the night.

She did hope that brave mariner wasn't too worried about what had happened to his mathom.

She hadn't gone far the next morning when she ran into quite the most ragged elf she had ever seen. Perhaps he was on an adventure as well; she was all too familiar with what those could do to the wardrobe. She was hardly presentable herself.

"Good morning, Master Elf!" she cried cheerfully enough. None of Master Elrond's people had ever been at all unfriendly, and she saw no reason why this elf should be any different.

"Good morning," he returned. He tried to smile and failed rather badly. One hand clenched and unclenched at his sides.

"Are you alright?" she asked. She frowned. He was entirely too thin, even for an elf. "Would you like to join me for second breakfast?"

He laughed. It was strained, but genuine. She suspected she had surprised him. She had managed it with Master Elrond's people more than once. "I cannot dally. I seek news of what occurred last night."

"Oh! You mean the falling star?"

The elf stilled. "Yes. I - Did you - ?" There was something terrible in his eyes, and his voice broke on the words.

"It's alright," she assured him. She knew well how much the elves loved their stars. "I found it. I thought perhaps to take it to Master Elrond."

"Elrond," the elf repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

"But you must know Elrond! If even a hobbit knows of him, I cannot imagine how an elf does not."

"I knew him," the elf agreed. The brokenness in his voice was no better. His eyes snapped back to hers. "But you cannot have reached him yet. Where is it?" His voice was desperate, mad, and for the first time, Belladonna felt a little bit afraid.

She drew back a step. "I am not sure I should tell you. Your look is very strange."

He laughed. It was not the surprised laugh of earlier. It was far worse, and it ended in a sound like a sob. "Strange and worse than strange! My Oath compels me still, for all that I wish it would not, and I fear it shall drag me to one last fell deed, worse, perhaps, than any before. Already it torments me." Pain rippled over his face, and he clenched his hand again. "I cannot restrain it long - No. Long we held it then. I shall hold it - Ai! I must hold it now, I must, but do not take it to Elrond, I beg you. Do not - " Pain contorted the elf's face, and he fell to his knees.

If she was going to run, now was the time to do it, but Belladonna could not bear to leave him like that. She did not quite understand what was going on, but it was plain this stranger has sworn some sort of Oath about the pretty mathom in her pack, and all the pain was wrapped up in that.

The cure for his pain, then, seemed very simple, so she reached into her pack and held it out to him. "Is this what you're looking for?"

One clawed hand jerked toward the gem. The other made an aborted movement to the hilt of his sword. "No. No, I will not be a thief again, I will not - "

"But I found it, so it's mine, and I'm giving it to you," Belladonna said firmly, and she pressed the chain into his hand. The gem nestled into his palm.

He flinched back, and then stared down at the gem in wonder. "It doesn't burn," he whispered.

"I was surprised too," she admitted. "They say the stars are fire, so I expected it to be hotter."

"It burned last time," he said, still in a daze. "We stole them, and they burned us."

Magic, then. It seemed absurdly obvious. "Well, this one was a gift." She began rooting around in her pack. "I've some bread left. Shall we split that for second breakfast?"

He stared at her like she was just as much a wonder as that mathom of his. "You gave it up freely."

"You seemed to want it more than I did," she said with a shrug. She frowned as she considered the date. "And it might be my birthday in any case. It's only right to give a present on my birthday."

The elf laughed. He laughed so long that she was beginning to be concerned it had become hysterical, especially when tears started flowing freely down his cheeks. "It is done, it is done, it is finally done. I have done it, Father! I have fulfilled your oath at last!" A wild grin split his face. "Here, catch it." He tossed the gem to her, and she caught it, startled. "There's no compulsion to take it back. I could throw it away. I could give it away." Wonder spread across his face. "I won't have to go into the Everlasting Darkness."

Belladonna's mouth dropped open. "The what?"

The elf calmed himself slightly, though not by much. "My apologies. I suppose I owe you an explanation - I owe you everything, far, far more than an explanation, but I suppose that's a start. I am Maglor Feanorian."

Well, introductions were always a good place to start. "Belladonna Took, at your service."

He blinked.

His name started to tug at her a little, and she began to wonder if his name was the explanation. "You're in one of those elvish history songs, aren't you? One of the sad ones."

"Several," he said, almost apologetically.

"I never paid much attention to those," she confessed. "I'm dreadfully sorry."

"I shall endeavor to offer a better explanation then," he says and frowned up at the sky. "On the road, perhaps. I suppose there's nothing for it but to take this to Elrond and hope he has a better idea what to do with it. I do hope his father … "

"But you said it mustn't go to him!"

"Not with my Oath unfulfilled," he said gravely. "But now it can, and should, and must. He has the greatest right to it of any left, and it was his father who so shortly ago was carrying it through the sky."

"Oh," she said faintly. "How do you suppose it fell?"

Maglor's look grew grim. "His father is a mighty warrior, who once slew a great dragon. I cannot imagine what beast has emerged from the void to best him. Perhaps Morgoth has broken loose once again and the end of days is at hand. Well can I believe that Eärendil would cast away the Silmaril rather than let our black foe once more atain it."

"Oh," she said again, more faintly. Then her innate sense reasserted itself, and she said, "Or perhaps he has merely tripped, and the silly thing fell off."

"Silmaril," Maglor corrected automatically. He appeared rather taken aback, but something that was almost a smile was pulling at his lips. "And perhaps you are right at that! I suppose we shall know one way or another soon enough. To Elrond, then! Will you travel with me?"

"I suppose I had better, since you still owe me a story," she agreed, passing the glittering mathom back to him. "And to keep you from jumping to the worst possible conclusion. First we must eat, though, and then we can walk, and you can tell me all about that mathom of yours!"

"Very well," he conceded, and he took the bread she offers. "I must confess, though, I am unfamiliar with that word. What, precisely, is a mathom? A jewel?"

"Or any other thing that's pretty enough, but without much purpose," she agreed. "The sort of thing you put on your mantle to attract dust and regift a hundred times before it's regifted right back to you - are you quite alright?"

"Quite alright," Maglor coughed out, the second he was done choking on his piece of bread.