#i've started writing it it but i'm a slowish writer

[echo-bleu]

those towers we built

Alright, so the (very AU) concept I've been toying with for a bit is this: the Valar, fundamentally misunderstanding the nature of elves and the concepts of consent and self-determination, after beating Morgoth and getting the Silmarils back, decide to just... erase the war.

Like, Ëonwë doesn't let Maedhros and Maglor go, instead fights them, they drop the Silmarils when they get burned and run (and still kill themselves/end up wandering). Everyone goes back to Aman, Yavanna restores the Trees, and the Valar, who don't understand the nature of trauma, decide that the best way to heal everyone is to just erase their memories of what happened. Námo agrees to release everyone who died (short of Finwë and Fëanor) and everyone's memories of everything from the Darkening forward is removed.

The Valar kind of suggest a version of events (Morgoth killed Finwë, Ungoliant ate the trees, there was a fight, but Morgoth was captured and Fëanor sacrificed the Silmarils and himself to remake the trees) and lets the Song run from there. The Noldor naturally take Maedhros as their king, and he has no reason to abdicate.

Eärendil, who doesn't have a star to sail with, is the only one whose memories weren't removed, and he's tasked with watching the seas, so no one can sail between Middle Earth and Valinor. In Middle Earth, everything is going as programmed, with Maglor and Galadriel among the only Exiles remaining. Their family thinks them dead in the Darkening and not ready to come back.

Of course, the issue with all that is that erasing memory doesn't erase trauma, and none of the re-embodied elves were actually ready to be re-embodied. Everyone's memories are kind of vague, but the suggestive power of the Valar is strong enough that they're not exactly questioning anything. They have the strangest triggers and nightmares. It's especially noticeable with the Exiles who were very young, or those actually born in Middle Earth, like Maeglin, who straight up doesn't remember his former life.

There's a general uneasiness that no-one can quite put a name to, and they ascribe it to Arda Marred. More people are re-embodied with no or confusing memories -- Gil-galad, Celebrimbor.

And then one day in Middle Earth, Elrond, watching his wife start to fade, prays loud enough that his father hears it. And Eärendil, fed up with the charade and deciding that he'll show up for his son the way he couldn't before, sails with his daughter-in-law to Aman.

Celebrían's memories and knowledge of the First Age are veiled on the way, but things have already started to unravel, and the mismatches are becoming glaringly evident. King Nelyafinwë Maitimo is no fool, and neither are his Consort Findekáno or his First Advisor Ingoldo. It might take them another five hundred years, but they'll get to the bottom of this mystery, and find the missing members of their family in the process.

Only the truth may prove to be much harder to bear than the lie they've been fed for six thousand years.