#life and death ~ mandos namo

[lendmyboyfriendahand]

The order in which elves are Returned from Mandos is not strictly based on punishment. Sure, those who caused particular trouble (the Feanorians) are detained until there's enough peace in Valinor that they won't immediately destabilize things. But after that it's based on how long they take to heal and repent.

Everyone is very surprised when Celegorm is the first of his brothers out. (He's a bit insulted - surely Maedhros would be more startling?)

First off, Celegorm is honestly not traumatized. Sure, he died in a battle after seeing his little brother killed. He speared Dior through the heart, and got his windpipe severed by Nimloth. Celegorm died gasping for air and choking on his own blood.

But he'd always expected to go like that. Not just since they reached Beleriand, or since they attacked Alqualonde for the ships, or since he saw his grandfather's body. He' s been certain he would die violently since the first hunt he went on with Orome. Celegorm hadn't been good enough yet to catch anything himself, but Orome had shot a lynx. It had screamed and staggered for a moment, trying to fight even with an arrow in it's eye, before it collapsed. Celegorm had looked at the lynx's coat spotted with blood, and wondered how much harder it would be for someone to get it out of his hair after his death. He was going to be a hunter, and kill his own food and live off the land, but the wild cat had been just the same. Celegorm would try for his whole life to outrun death's arrow, but he always knew his luck would end. He didn't want to die, and didn't want to lose, but he accepted it.

Secondly, Celegorm actually fairly willing to admit he was wrong. Not like, morally wrong, but he rarely considers things from a moral point of view anyway. The kinslaying at Alqualonde was apparently not necessary, as plenty of people with less wilderness experience than him successfully marched across the Helcaraxe to reach Middle Earth. He recognizes though that attacking Doriath didn't work, and that holding Luthien prisoner didn't work. He admits that possibly if he hadn't held Luthein prisoner, he wouldn't have needed to attack Doriath in the first place as someone could have figured out a diplomatic solution. He didn't think things through, and hurt people, some of whom he liked, and wants to avoid that happening again.

Lesson learned, right? Next time Celegorm sees one plan that looks impossible and one that involves killing people, he'll try the impossible one. Killing people just causes more problems in the long run, and impossible plans sometimes succeed.

So Celegorm regrets attacking Doriath and Alqualonde and kidnapping Luthien. If given the chance, he wouldn't do it again. He thinks it's totally justified for people to be angry at him for those things, just like he's angry at Morgoth for Finwe and Feanor's deaths.

Namo is grading on a bit of a curve, but he's willing to round that off to "repentant" in order to have one less Feanorian in his halls.

[stealthily--nobody]

Even Villains Deserve a Moment of Reprieve

Summary: Of all their brothers, Curufin and Celegorm alone have returned to life. Most don't take kindly to their return. Curufin is not sure where Finrod stands but he's willing to take on all of Finrod's anger so Celegorm doesn't have to.

Prompt: Contrasts

Also on AO3

In his youth, Curufin had held Tirion on a pedestal, because of course, he did. His grandfather was the king of Tirion and his father was the crown prince. Of course, he thought Tirion was the pinnacle of elven ingenuity. As he grew older, he began to feel the confines of the city. It was hard not to notice how he passed the same elves each day and exchanged the same platitudes day after day. When his father left Tirion, Curufin was grateful to follow him despite the shame that came with banishment. 

Still, Curufin had been grateful. The city was suffocating, each and every citizen commenting how much he looked like his father and in turn like his grandfather. There was sort of a reverence in their voices that always made him uneasy as if they were seeing his grandfather through his visage. Their words felt like it wasn’t really for him but for his predecessors. 

“Curufinwe,” He could hear over and over. At times he wasn’t sure if they meant to speak to him or his father. Worse still was the ‘Finwe’ always said to the back of his head in the ancient accent. Often, before he could say a word, his assailant would mention something that Curufin felt unadept to answer or speak to. If they wanted politics, they should seek out his grandfather or his eldest brother. If they wanted to discuss anything else, they should consult his father. 

Curufin was different. He was not as intelligent as his grandfather or father. He did not want the pressure of answering incorrectly and having to answer to his betters. He would rather they just ignore him! 

Things were only marginally better in Beleriand. His father and grandfather were dead and he and his brothers clutch tightly to the fraying string that was their authority on those shores. Even Maedhros had only a few deeply devoted followers and the rest of them were just as poorly staffed. There simply wasn’t anyone asking him questions in Beleriand.

In those days, few people asked anything of Curufin and he had only answer to Maedhros. 

Not that he did any better playing at leader in Beleriand than he did shrinking from leadership in Tirion. Time and his death revealed plainly how terrible the decisions he’d made were. How much of that was the Oath pushing him and how much was his own incompetence? Curufin could not say. It all blurred together in a sort of never-ending rage long before it had been cut away. 

A rage that dissipated quickly when Nimloth pierced him with a blade and he realized how foolish everything really was - how meaningless it was. 

Leaving only shame in its wake. 

The Halls of Mandos were certainly eye-opening. For one, Namo forced Curufin to scrutinize his actions throughout his time in Beleriand and separate them into good times and bad times. There were a lot more bad times than good. (Not that Curufin was buying into Namo’s subtle ‘You Should Have Stayed Here’ propaganda.)

Was he regretful of the hurt he caused people? Yes. 

Would he have changed anything? That- was a harder question to answer. Curufin didn’t believe in do-overs. Not like what Namo was asking. What was done was done and nothing Curufin could say would change it. Because at the end of the day, Curufin was aware of how tightly historical events were wound. Would changing something bad also change the good that happened? 

If Curufin never drove his son away, would Celebrimbor have reached the heights he did in Ost-in-Edhil? If Curufin had never driven his son away, would Celebrimbor have been tortured to death by Sauron? 

So no, Curufin would not have changed anything. He couldn’t afford to consider changing anything even as his heart shattered and his soul crumbled watching his son’s end. Even now, Celebrimbor lingered in the halls of Mandos, scared of everything around him. Curufin couldn’t even approach Celebrimbor without his son’s fea shaking so badly it fractured at the edges. 

So Curufin had left and thought for a very long time. There was only one solution he came upon and he set about accomplishing it with his favourite brother. Celegorm was only too gleeful to participate, especially in the part Curufin had relegated to his brother. 

In no time, Namos was practically begging them to leave his halls and walk into Aman once more. Curufin could only grin. There was no one better than he and Celegorm at stirring unrest and it worked brilliantly even amongst the dead. 

However, Tirion was not the place he remembered. Certainly, the buildings were the same and most of the people (those who had not crossed the sea either with his father or Fingolfin). The language was just as butchered as ever, but not illegible. 

Or perhaps it was wrong to say Tirion changed when the more correct answer was that he and his brothers had changed. 

No longer was he the naive prince who looked eerily like the king. Curufin looked nothing like Arafinwe, the golden king, who was praised by Tirion’s remaining residence as the saviour of the Finwe bloodline. However, his appearance was still noticed. Only no longer was it quite so favourably. 

There was no grandfather to be mistaken for. Only he and his father and no one had any nice things to say about either of them. His father was called the scourge of the Noldar and he was the villain of Luthien’s tragedy. 

Walking through Tirion was once again an exercise in restraint and not a particularly pleasant experience. Only, instead of people stopping him with kind words or messages for his father and grandfather, people would stare with hands over their mouths as they whispered to one another. They spoke as if Curufin had lost his ears in Beleriand and nothing they said was pleasant. 

Celegorm avoided the worst of it, having returned to the forests of his youth and his place at Orome’s side. Curufin wasn’t entirely sure how his brother had managed such a thing, but he was happy for Celegorm. His brother had been so miserable in Beleriand (they all had, really, but Celegorm most of all) and if nothing else came of their return, Curufin would consider it an afterlife well spent. 

But Curufin had no such luxury as to hide away in the forests. He had his own plans that were still in their infancy and an indeterminate amount of time to accomplish them. Worst of all, they required his presence in Tirion and in particular his correspondence with Arafinwe. 

A correspondence that resulted in a commanded visit to the palace. 

The palace itself was a strange place for Curufin. He remembered so many better days when he and his brothers would run and play in the sprawling courtyards as his father spoke with their grandfather. He remembered playing happily with his half-cousins before age and their fathers’ grudges split them apart. 

The gardens still existed with the same foot trails and managed flower beds. But Curufin felt ill at ease in the nostalgia of his childhood. He had become the antithesis of his childhood aspirations and it was a reminder that continued to hurt his still thriving ego. 

He hastened his pace with the intention of leaving quickly. His business with Arafinwe was concluded and he wanted nothing more to do with this forgotten childhood innocence. 

Unfortunately, before he could make his escape, a voice from both his childhood fondness and adult nightmares called out, “Curufinwe?” 

Odd. When was the last time that voice called him with that name? How long had it been since Finrod - Findarato - spoke the language of their shared childhood when Curufin was present? 

Curufin half-turned so he could catch a glimpse of his golden-haired cousin out of the corner of his eye. Findarato looked well. Just as glittery and ephemeral as he always had. Except, gone from his face was his usual smile, replaced by a look of concentration (or perhaps contained rage). 

Curufin internally sighed but greeted his cousin with the reverence expected for the crown prince, “Findarato.” 

“My father told me you were here,” Findarato spoke, his face looked haunted. Despite how healthy his face was, evident of much better and higher amounts of food than they’d ever had access to in Beleriand, there was a shadow in his eyes that Curufin was much too familiar with. It was that shadow that marked him as Finrod and not the brilliant Findarato that Curufin remembered from his youth. At least in this, they were the same: both too changed from who they were to be their childhood selves once more. 

“And so you thought the best course of action was to seek me out?” Curufin couldn’t help his tongue. He may not want to hurt anyone with his hands again, but he had never been kind with his words. Not even in the days of tree light. 

Something that might have been a smile tugged at the corner of Finrod’s mouth. He evidently also recalled when Curufin’s acidic personality was a part of his personality and not a mark against him. 

But Finrod refused to indulge Curufin with a smile. Instead, he nodded his head toward the garden sitting area where their parents used to watch over their hyperactive elflings. Curufin found himself following his cousin and sitting across from Finrod. 

It was the least he could do after everything. 

“I was surprised when you and Celegorm were returned to us,” Finrod commented as he stared at Curufin with that same unreadable expression. “I was certain Maedhros would return before I would hear even a whisper of your names.” 

“What? You think we deserve life less than our brothers?” Curufin kept his voice flat and suffocated his emotions. He would not let anyone find his weaknesses, not even Finrod - especially not Finrod. 

But Finrod only flipped the question on its head. “Do you believe that?” 

“What does it matter what I believe? We’re back. End of story.” And it was the end of the story. Curufin would not give anything else away. He would not reveal his weaknesses. He could not let anyone, even Finrod, realize that his two fracturing points were his brother and his son. He could let anyone know how to exploit him. 

“Apologies, but I doubt that,” Finrod leaned forward, his eyes searching for something that Curufin would never admit, “Why you and Celegorm? I never forgot what you said to me the last time we saw each other. I wondered if the solution was hiding in plain sight.” 

Curufin glowered. Of course, Finrod would bring up those words he said in desperation and anger. He could still recall the moment with perfect clarity. It had been early in the morning, so early that the city rested and only Finrod and his few loyal were awake as they prepared to leave the city for the very last time - as they prepared to walk to their doom. 

“You’re a fool. You’ve always been a fool,” Curufin had spat at his cousin. 

Finrod had looked up with a much-subdued smile, “It is nice to see you too, cousin. Are you here to see us off?” 

“I’m here to gloat!” Curufin had sneered, lifting his chin as Finrod wandered closer, towering over him. To his great disappointment, he was the shortest of all the cousins. “You have lost spectacularly.” 

“I fail to see your victory,” Finrod had shot back, “My nephew inherits my city and I would have left regardless.” 

But Curufin would not allow Finrod to say such things. “You think Orodreth has any power here? One word from me and he too would be gone. Without you, this city is mine.” 

“I would not be so confident,” Finrod countered, his voice firm. “You and your brother are not as beloved as you would like to believe.” 

“Really?” Curufin had snorted, his breath harsh and his eyebrow raised sardonically. “We must agree to disagree unless you would rather I show you.” 

But Curufin had spoken too brashly as Finrod only laughed and pushed Curufin lightly. “Unfortunately, cousin, I have prior engagements. But know that I will laugh when your actions come to haunt you.

This is farewell. I don’t suppose we’ll ever see each other again.” 

“Good riddance,” Curufin tried to sneer but failed just enough that Finrod’s eyes lightened. However, Curufin would not allow for some mushy parting as if they were lovers in the night. He had more pride than that and most importantly he was right. “You won’t be missed. I have other priorities than crying over your massacred corpse”

“What were those other priorities?” Finrod pressed. “Since my re-embodiment, I thought you referred to the Oath. But if you held the Oath so closely, you would not be returned. What is so important to you that even your father’s legacy and your Oath was lesser in importance?” 

Finrod was an airhead. This was the truth known by their family. Unfortunately, it was not always true. And at this particular moment, Finrod was displaying an odd amount of tact and situational understanding. 

Curufin sniffed and tried to hide his unease. “My priorities changed.” 

“But did they,” Finrod practically snapped in his haste to reply, “You forget that I know you, Curvo. I knew you before the Oath and during it. What if you never changed, but just got better at hiding things.” 

“And just what would I need to hide? I was a lord, respected and powerful,” Curufin threw his head back and laughed. He would continue to play the villain. He was good at playing the villain. “If I never changed then I must have been awful from the start.” 

Now Curufin was the one leaning forward with his eyes lit up and maniacal. “Did you ever think that maybe I was simply better at hiding it before the Oath? That the prince everyone adored in those days was the fake?”

“Then why have you returned?” Finrod refused to let Curufin cower him. “Why return to a place where everyone hates you? Why denounce the Oath so heavily that part of your fea was torn away? No, I think there is something more driving you.” 

“You are as arrogant as ever, Findarato,” Curufin humphed as he leaned back and crossed his arms. “You think this is about you? I haven’t thought of you since you left. Why should I have? You were so forgettable.” 

“No, I am not so arrogant to think I played any part in your decision to return,” Finrod returned even as his hands shook. He was not as composed as he was before. Did he genuinely think that Curufin’s return had anything to do with him? Curufin had greater loves than their flings and he would never admit to the tears shed when tales of his demise spread through Beleriand. “You are deflecting. What drives you, Curufin? Why are you and Celegorm back?” 

But Curufin was done with this. He owed Finrod a conversation, not his innermost secrets. “You think I would tell you? Why? What importance are you to me? How could you possibly compare to-” 

Curufin had said too much. He cut himself off and glared at Finrod. Unfortunately, his cousin was smart enough to extrapolate from his outburst. 

“It’s them, isn’t it?” Finrod’s eyes lit up. “Celegorm and Celeb-”

“Don’t say his name,” Curufin snapped. “You don’t get to name my son. Not after what happened.” Not after Finrod’s actions indirectly caused Celebrimbor’s tragedy. 

“Curvo,” Finrod’s voice was instantly quieted and a blanket of sorrow fell over their conversation. “I am so sorry. What happened to your son shouldn’t have happened to anyone.” 

“No,” Curufin agreed, jerking his head away to hide the moisture building in his eyes. If he had to have this conversation, he wasn’t about to let Finrod see him so vulnerable. “Even at our worst, we were never so cruel. What he did - I don’t know if it's possible to recover from such scarring.” 

“Only Este would know,” Finrod’s eyes widened as he no doubt started to realize what Curufin wasn’t saying. “Curvo, you would shatter yourself so for your son?” 

“I would do so much more,” Curufin said even as he refused to admit to Finrod’s words. He felt very wisp-like as if he had shed his hroa and returned to Mandos. 

Agreeing had been so easy. Celegorm had been fading. He needed to leave and Curufin was willing to try anything if there was even a chance of helping his son. Agreeing to Namos’ stipulations was easy. He would do much worse for them. He had done so much worse for them. Those two: Celebrimbor and Celegorm were his whole world. He became a villain for them and he would happily become a monster (a freak) for them. 

He couldn’t even remember if the procedure hurt, having the Oath cut away from him, amputated like Maedhros’s ensnared arm. Nor could he recall what the Oath had felt like. Everything that had been warped with the swearing of the Oath was gone and so too was part of his understanding of events and reasoning behind his actions. Only the feelings remained.

And yet, if he really did the things he was accused of, how could he be anything other than a villain? Once he’d figured that out, it was easy really to play the part and take the brunt of public perception, allowing his brother to return to his passion with the hunt.  

“I hated you then.” Curufin whipped his head up to stare at Finrod in shock. He hadn’t thought his cousin had the capacity for hatred, not shining darling Finrod. But Finrod continued, his lips curling into an unkind grin that was halfway to a snarl, “When I lay, dying before Sauron, I blamed you and your brother for everything going wrong.” 

“That’s good,” Curufin kept his voice from shaking. Just what was Finrod trying to say and why did those words hurt so much? He had resolved to play the villain. He was supposed to be hated. He remembered that moment so clearly when he chased Finrod away and smeared his victory in Finrod’s face. Of course, Finrod should have hated him. 

Finrod’s eyes searched his face and seemed to see something he liked as continued, “But after my death and rebirth, I’ve been thinking. You were acting odd in those last few moments. You and Celegorm both were more argumentative and furious than even when Maedhros was captured and we first arrived across the ice.” 

Curufin looked away. He had no idea what Finrod was talking about and he had no desire to hear Finrod try to find a reason for his actions. He was a villain. He would play his part. 

“Were you trying to goad me into staying?” Finrod asked, his voice frank but his eyes searching. He reached out a hand and gently pressed the tips of his fingers to Curufin’s. 

Curufin jerked back and glared. “Of course not.” He was no saviour. He hadn’t been kind even before Beleriand. 

Finrod didn’t force any more of a confession from Curufin. Instead, he flipped his outreached hand so that it was palm up and smiled, blisteringly bright. “I always thought you were too hard on yourself and much too argumentative.” 

“Only one of which has changed,” Curufin returned but in the silence that followed, Curufin found himself gingerly reaching out and resting his fingertips on Finrod’s. 

Finrod didn’t push for anything more than Curufin was willing to give but his smile somehow increased by another thousand watts. “I don’t think either has. And I am perfectly content with that.” 

Curufin wasn’t sure he agreed, but he curled his fingers into Finrod’s and let the tension ease from his shoulders. 

He would continue to be the villain. But even villains deserve a moment of reprieve.

[the-elusive-soleil]

Been thinking (as a thing to maybe write in the far future) of an AU where Fingon essentially Dernhelms his way back to Beleriand during the War of Wrath, and comes and finds Maedhros et al at Amon Ereb or wherever.

Context: since his death in the Nirnaeth, Fingon has been watching the tapestries in Mandos for news of how everyone is doing. So he knows how disastrous things are generally, and he also is aware of how Maedhros specifically is Not Doing Great after Fingon's death. In a battle that Maedhros organized. If Fingon were able, he'd tell Maedhros that it's fine and he doesn't blame him, but he just has to watch.

He watches through the Second and Third Kinslayings, grieving for what his cousin/best friend/person is going through and becoming, and then he finds out about Earendil and Elwing making it to Aman with the Silmaril and pleading for aid. Against all odds, it seems like they might actually get what they're asking for.

If he can get out, maybe he can find a way to tag along with whoever/whatever is going to Middle-earth. If he can get to Middle-earth, maybe he can track down Maedhros and...something. Not kill him, he's almost certain, not if there's anything of the person he knew still in there. Honestly, he doesn't have a detailed plan beyond "get back to Maedhros and hope that this helps somehow".

In a stunning display of dissembling, Fingon manages to convince Namo that he's fully healed and ready to return to life and definitely not going to do anything reckless once that happens. This works somehow, and Fingon finds himself back in Aman. His still-living and reembodied family members are delighted to see him, and also very clear that he is not going to join the Host of the Valar and jump back into a war.

And Fingon completely agrees! He's not joining the Host so much as hitching a ride with them, after all, and he has other priorities than getting tangled up in the war.

So he basically sneaks out and disguises himself as an ordinary Amanyar soldier, and is able to keep from being discovered until they complete the crossing and start marching through Beleriand. And then once he reckons they're as close to Amon Ereb as they're going to get, he grabs a horse and slips away and rides as hard as he can.

(It's been maybe a few months since he was last able to check the tapestries for news, and he's fairly sure that nothing more can have gone wrong in such short time, but then again...)

As luck would have it, as he's approaching, he runs into Maedhros, who's out on a patrol ride and doesn't have anyone with him (because there just isn't enough manpower left to send multiple people on a patrol when one of the people in question is him).

This might also be a bad thing, though, because it means that there's nobody else around to assure Maedhros that yes, they're all seeing the same thing he is. Which means Maedhros' first response is to ignore Fingon, thinking he's an illusion/hallucination.

Fingon loses his patience with this pretty quickly and reaches out and grabs Maedhros' arm to prove he's real and. Maedhros' eyes get very scary very fast.

Because.

Namo said that Noldor who died in Beleriand would receive little pity when it came to reembodiment, and everyone has pretty much interpreted that to mean that none of them will ever be reembodied. So Maedhros' first instinct is to assume that this isn't really Fingon come back.

And he spent time in Angband. He knows how orcs are made. He knows exactly what kind of twisted makings Sauron and Morgoth are capable of.

And they never got what was left of Fingon's body back, did they?

He wrenches his arm away, hissing, and goes for his sword. "You cannot fool me. I see you for what you are--I should have known such a torment would be devised eventually. Does your master truly value my pain above the havoc you could wreak in these lands? Or does he simply believe I am maddened and desperate enough to accept the deception that others would see through?"

Fingon has no clue what is going on.

He tries to get out some kind of explanation, but Maedhros raises his sword to his throat.

"Perhaps he thought I would not be able to kill something that looked like him," he muses. "A foolish assumption. I have killed him before, if not with my own hand; I can strike down an abominable copy, when I know that his fea at least is safe in Mandos, beyond all harm."

But for all that, Maedhros can't bring himself to do it right that second, because this thing, this shell, is looking at him with Finno's eyes and speaking with Finno's voice, and once he moves, there will be a bleeding body on the ground looking like Finno's to haunt his nightmares.

And that ends up giving Fingon time to talk Maedhros down, and convince him that it's really him and that he talked his way into reembodiment and came across the sea with the Host of the Valar so that he could find Maedhros, because he saw everything via the tapestries and knew he needed to.

Maedhros makes a small, broken noise,

drops his sword,

and stumbles forward, and Fingon just barely catches him in a tight hug before he falls.

...

And I have no idea yet where to go from there besides the obvious plot points of Fingon meeting his great-great-nephews and of a less murdery and fiery solution to the Silmaril Problem at the end of the war, because my plan is also basically "get Fingon back to Maedhros and hope that this makes things better somehow".

[starspray]

For the Unusual Fic Specific Asks: The Million Dollar question for “Full of Gorgeous Life”. You mention that Curufin heard stories of Eregion before arriving at Nerdanel’s and that’s why he’s upset. Could you expand on that a little? What did he hear? Is Celebrimbor back or still in the Halls?

Thanks for the ask!

It's Nerdanel in the drabble that's heard the stories, rather than Curufin--I don't imagine Curufin has spoken to anyone between the Halls and her house, except maybe a Maia or two in Lorien--but he has seen Eregion woven into Vaire's tapestries. Which is either worse or better than hearing vaguer stories and rumors, depending on your perspective. So he knows exactly what happened to Celebrimbor because he was there in Mandos to bear witness, and it's...rough. He's still dealing with some guilt over it and quite a bit of grief, though not of the kind that would impact his release from Mandos.

(My imagining of Mandos is that you deal with you while in there; interpersonal issues are not Namo's domain--that stuff you work out in life, not death, and are under the purview of Nienna. So whatever is between Curufin and Celebrimbor can't be resolved until they are both out of Mandos.)

These drabbles are set in the early-ish Third Age, so Celebrimbor is definitely still in the Halls. I don't imagine him coming back until very late in the Third Age, or even early Fourth--in this 'verse he's out by the time Frodo arrives in Valinor, but I'm not quite sure just how long he's been out, or whether he remained in Mandos until Sauron was defeated for good or not.

I'm actually in the early stages of planning a fic set between these drabbles and the one I wrote about Dior, and it's going to focus a lot on Curufin--whether it's from his POV or Nerdanel's again, I haven't yet decided, but there's definitely going to be discussion of Celebrimbor!

[novemberthecatadmirer]

Thoughts on Elves’ Perception of Death

CW: Discussion on the topic of how people view suicide.

I have been thinking about how elves may view death.

Like when mortals die they get yote to Only-God-Knows-Where, and Morgoth took benefit of this ambiguity and made people fear death. And I can see how fear of death can benefit his goal of making everyone fucking crazy and evil.

For elves they knew where they are going: They are going to Mandos-filled-with-top-tier-tapestries to have some personal reflections and nice rest and then eventually be thrown back to the world to try (suffer) again.

My personal head canon of Mandos: It was COZY. Great fiber art. Hang out with your dead relatives. Had equivalent of televisions livestreaming all the dramas of the living world. 

Yeah there were people that were desperate to get back to their life again to continue the good fight, but they were not able to because their souls were still injured by death, or they got stopped by overworked maiar (exasperated medical workers) because they were not completely healed and “stop being difficult we do not want to see you back within a hundred of years”. But there were definitely a few people who had to be basically kicked out (“you are healed enough, we have limited spaces, and the construction team for hall expansion are fucking tired.”) 

Miriel got away by “I want to help with your wife making tapestries.” 

Namo was offended that people call his hospital jail. Yeah most people did not want to stay in hospital, but can’t you see it is necessary?

So now here is the problem. When the choice is between death (and go to elf therapy center) and torture & enslavement (being forced to serve the evil and possibly still die and go to elf therapy center, only now you need much, much more therapy), what would be the more sensible choice?

I feel Tolkien possibly had awareness of this problem, so he had this idea that elves were not allowed to suicide. Unless they get raped. That’s interesting that he thought being raped is the absolutely worst thing that could be inflicted on a person, and I still do not have much clear opinion on that. In general I think there are many awful things a person can suffer, and for many of them you cannot figure out which is awful and which is awful but not that awful. Each of them fucks you up in different ways. Thus, I cannot find myself to accept this idea as canon.

Also, even this is true, elves cannot suicide, can’t they mercy kill each other when the situation was dare?

So either elves cannot suicide at all no matter how (which is kinda contrary to canon,) or they were free to murder themselves for whatever reasons.

I find myself accept the idea that Morgoth and some of his servants had the abilities to trap people’s souls and force them to live. Basically, you do not get to stay died in Angband when you are not allowed to die. The evil had some wicked healing power, when you die they just revive you in your broken body and fix you enough for you to continue to be tortured/used by them. There was no way to escape, even through death.

(Yes, I am the person who believed Morgoth and Sauron were much more evil and awful and creative and smart than people give them credit for. I think of Morgoth as atrocities of invasion wars, and Sauron as atrocities of authoritarian governments. Morgoth provided the core concept and Sauron provided the methods.)

So, do elves view death the same way our mortals view death?

Death had been viewed as an escape for some human, even we do not know if we have an afterlife or not. No matter justified or not (and I don’t think anyone of us can judge each other’s decisions), many who committed suicide wanted a way to stop the pain they are suffering, in body or in mind or in both. Many of them did not even believe their existence would go anywhere other than fading into the void nothingness, but did the act because they just wanted to stop existing.

And elves knew there is a place waiting for them. That knowledge... Probably can be strangely comforting.

Does that make fighting to death in battles less scary? Does that make killing yourself less terrifying? Does that make killing someone else less guilt wracking because you can be delusional enough to somehow convince yourself that it is... less permanent?

Also, what does it really mean when an elf choose death over something else? Do they view death as a way out of confinement, that they see freedom in death?

I think Eol probably somehow convinced himself that he could use death as a quick escape for him, his son, and possibly his wife as a way out of the wicked city (which was apparently awful and delusional) (And my personal headcanon is he rejected Call from Mandos and became a wandering houseless spirit and got to see how things turned to shit for his son and prayed someone could come to kill and release his son from all these Noldor shit and wished he succeed in killing his son but he could do nothing because he was a bodiless spirit)

I think Maedros chose to jump the fuck down into that blasted lava pit because he did not even want an afterlife. He just wanted to stop existing and he knew he could not because he was an elf, and even the mortal cannot stop existing they just got sent to somewhere else. He was also scared of being sent to everlasting darkness. So he jumped into this shiny bright fire pit, hoped it would burn him and take away everything of him including all the sin he committed.

My headcanon for the everlasting darkness: 

It does not exist.

No, you do not go wherever you imagine after death. You either go to Mandos then get sent back to life when you are elf, or go to Mandos then get sent to Eru-knows-where when you are mortal, we don’t know what happens if you are dwarf but there is a place for you, or you reject the call and wander as a spirit and SUFFER. But you do not go to a place made up by your melodramatic father in his rage for his awful poetic oath because it does not exist.

Feanorians swore to be casted to something that did not even exist.

They did drown in everlasting darkness, metaphorically. They went there not because of their oath, but because of the things they did.

[amethysttribble]

The One Who Condemns? Is it about Namo?

THANK YOU!

And yeah! Kinda! Sorta! It's the Reverse Bang project I had to abandon last year when I broke my arm, but it's still on my mind and my to-do list. It's less about Namo than it is about a town I've dreamed up that's outside of the Halls of Mandos and the people there that are charged with guiding the reborn back into life. And Curufin. It's a lot about Curufin, lol.

BUT the first little section is from Namo's POV, so have a taste of that! :

The matter settled, he called forth the little fea and set about integrating the spirit within the body it had crafted; dark-haired and male and plain. Steady hands, strong shoulders. All at once, the slim chest shuddered with life, the first breath of a reborn. 

The sight brought Namo pain.

With a gentle touch, he guided the Elf from the gloom of the Returning Hall and towards the grand doors, which were slowly opening. There was a sunlit, grassy plain beyond, and so, placed in a suitable hroa, it began to depart. Closer, closer… A foot stepped beyond the doorway. Now, the Elf was sundered from the protective arms of Mandos, abandoned unto the lands of Valinor, never to be quite so safe again. 

As he watched the little fea go, Namo began to weep, mourning his charge’s life as all other parents would a child’s death.

[anna-dreamer]

I just finished rewatching The Good Place. I have some (possibly poorly structured) thoughts on the afterlife.

I think the natural resentment i share with some human characters in the Legendarium for the phrasing “The Gift of Men” comes from the fact that humans are generally depicted from an outsider’s point of view. One might gleefully agree that finality of one’s existence is truly a gift, but not when it’s coming from a privileged immortal being who has likely lived in Paradise and ‘dares’ to imply we got the better deal. (Now, i do know that there was an intention to make what we know as Silmarillion into a Numenorian narrative but as this amazing article by @dawnfelagund proves this intention was never realized.)

When it comes to the way afterlife works in the Legendarium we are faced with a sad reality. Neither Elves nor Humans age given a pleasant lot. And dwarven afterlife is just vague as heck, not forgetting their rather sad origin as step-children (ewww, Eru!). Elves are fully of Arda, they can never leave, they are trapped in a cycle of life and rebirth, and life itself wears them greatly, as, it seems, they fade along with the world which every moment becomes darker and darker. Humans, on the other hand, lead a short life usually full of pain and hardship, and for all their toil and effort they get first crippling old age and then a final death which takes them away so their loved ones never see them again. 

So Elves can argue that final death is a pretty neat gift, a blessing even, while Humans might argue that eternal life in an abled body with as much time as you wish to spend with you loved ones in a damn good deal, dude! The sad thing is they can never shape their destinies the way both arguing parties would be happy with because of the nature of the world they’re in. They are ALL trapped. There is no way out. 

This is what i love about The Good Place. Let’s just imagine for a moment that we are not trapped. That our afterlife can be something else than a soulless machine that sorts you out depending on who you were on earth. Let’s imagine we can change that. (Can anybody write a crossover with Luthien hacking the system from the inside??? I will be down with Namo the TV show addict.) I have little faith in Mandos and even less faith in actual Valinor that feels like just another prison you enter after you’ve spend a lot of time in a place that was designed more likely to “fix" you, not to heal you proper. Valinor is isolated. Nothing happens there. No way in for those Humans you miss. No way out for those Elves who are sick of it. If you die, you just end up back there. If you go on living, you life loses all the flavour. All the commotion is back where the mortals are. 

(This is arguable but it seems that for us readers, who are humans themselves, it is important to see ourselves in stories. Any “alien species” is bound to be judged within our value system, otherwise relating to them would be hard? It is a huge topic for another discussion, and i am sure that people way smarter and way more educated then I am have already written a tone on this subject.)

If simplified, I want Feanor, having gone through the system, meet his seven sons an go, “My darlings! My little boys. I love you so much. I have a million things to talk to you about, but first, I an sorry.” And send them teddy bears and flowers for a millionth time.

Now excuse me, i’m gonna go cry in the corner. 

[edensrose]

*Seductively* Heyyy~~

I had a very sad thought. Like, a very very sad one. It's about Mairon (and minorly Thuringwethil). I'm sorry, but it's a very long one. If you don't want to read it, I'll understand! No hard feelings!

So, you know how Balrogs are basically Maiar who willingly joined Melkor? Mairon wasn't a Balrog. Which goes to say that he possibly swayed onto Melkor's side, and still can potentially leave him (Melkor), which makes it so tragic because he could have left Melkor during the end of the First Age like when a few Maiar/ servants of Melkor surrendered to the Valar... so why didn't Mairon leave or surrender?

And also the way Thuringwethil and Mairon were written in the Silmarillion, it just (personally) gives the aura that they were forced to do the things they did with absolutely no say. I know they both did horrible things (like torture or murder/ pillage etc) but doesn't it strike that they were forced to do something like that? Given that Mairon was a servant of Aulë, he surely would have spent some quality time with Yavanna as well, and it is said that Yavanna gave life, so don't you think that quality of Yavanna would rub off on Mairon too? For instance, Aulë made life (dwarves), and I'm pretty sure Mairon felt guilted by all the deaths he had brought about. He wouldn't be able to do anything about it, but I really feel like it would guilt him a lot, to the extent that he would find being alive more like a curse.

And Melkor might have known this. And I believe he tortured Mairon and Thuringwethil with this (I read a HC somewhere that Thuringwethil might have been a Maia of Este or Irmo), giving them both no choice but to follow his orders. And it is said that Mairon's Fëa grew dark, but being a Maia of Aulë who works in the forges day and night, who handles fire and electric currents, who handles light, wouldn't it be odd that Mairon liked the darkness? His Fëa must surely have been fiery to have to deal with being a Maia of Aulë, so where did this darkness come from? I believe Melkor enforced it upon him, since it was stated somewhere in Tolkien's books (I don't remember which one) that the Ainur value their Fëar, and would rather die (set it free) than let it be tainted (like when there was a draft-version when Melkor wanted to forcefully marry Arien and she set her Fëa free), so maybe Melkor was the reason why Mairon did everything he did.

What if Mairon had a feeling Melkor was doing something bad after being set free by Mandos, and when he went to discover it, Melkor grasped him, and darkened his soul?

And it was said that Melkor poured a part of his Fëa into the world before being booted into the Void in order to keep a sense of evil and command and his will, so what if he poured some in Mairon and Thuringwethil to keep them bound to him and his will?

What if Mairon had tried to reach out to Eönwë the whole First Age, but at the same time had to play a convincing role to Melkor, which led him to commit hundreds of atrocities? And what if Eönwë found out, which was why he requested Mairon to surrender?

And during the Second Age, what if Mairon had found a way to extract that darkness within himself and Thuringwethil, when he made the One Ring? I like to think that it wasn't Mairon's entire Fëa in it; possibly a mix of his and Thuringwethil's, and the only way to remove them both from the command/ bounding of Melkor was to destroy it. But maybe he didn't know how, or perhaps the darkness was also a part of Mairon which was why he was so hesitant to/ didn't want to destroy it?

What if the torture of Celebrimbor wasn't Mairon's wish, but Melkor overtook Mairon's Fëa? So it was Mairon's hands that harmed Celebrimbor, but Melkor's will did so.

And when the ring was destroyed, he and Thuringwethil were set free, and possibly went to Valinor undergoing lots of therapy by Namo or back to the Timeless Halls, being given intense psychotherapy by Eru?

(Also as I said earlier that HC of Thuringwethil being a Maia of Este or Irmo, wouldn't darkness be a bit too much for her too? So it wasn't her choice maybe? Or when taken by Melkor, he bound her to one form (the Vampire)?)

Idk, maybe this is a good take on Mairon and Thuringwethil? It came to my mind at like, 1am a few months ago at night, and now it just wouldn't go. And now I feel so bad for him and Thuri, and thankfully I found a fic on A03 based on this HC.

Also, this take on Melkor doing this to Mairon was due to me not shipping Angbang (I'm sorry, it just personally hits as being very abusive and toxic), and I believe he physically, emotionally and psychologically (spiritually too, maybe?) tormented Mairon.

Sorry for the very long take...

If you reached here, here are a few emojis to show my thanks for reading this because I can't physically do this: 🤗🫂😘😚😽

Angband mutuals and followers please do caution when reading

Hi dear, personally I don't really vibe with this since I headcanon Mairon to have his own evil outside of Melkor rather than Melkor having forcing him into everything, but I'm sure someone out here on tumblr will appreciate this so I'll just post this so others can see

Still a very angsty thought though!! I can see you put a lot of time and thought into this 💕

[an-eldritch-peredhel]

Afterlife therapy can't fix everything, golden cages, and unreturned all sound neat!

@thalion71, for the WIP ask game!

Afterlife therapy can't fix everything: The very rough title for an OC centric fic, focusing on Urusalirë with their family after she's reembodied from going off to fight and dying in the War of Wrath. Fun highlights include: backstory trauma because their family who's deaths she feels responsible for weren't in Mandos, Nerdanel with a little Trauma By Proxy because almost everyone she cares for has died horribly in Beleriand, Mahtan trying to keep his family together while ignoring the bitter and hurt parts of himself to help his partner, and of course my headcanons on Mandos and reembodiment.

He deliberately holds himself back from touching her- something she is pathetically grateful for but simultaneously infuriates her. They want to hold and be held by their friend and partner and husband and they couldn’t in death and now they can’t in life because they tried and they had, for hours they had held their partner and their daughter as closely and tightly as any of them could bear, but even the thought of someone touching their skin now pins their ears back and makes them want to cry.

Golden Cages: Magic puberty with parents who are fundamentally, cosmically incapable of understanding you and a sibling who is both a lifeline and a threat is a great time! It's basically me working through Luthien's relationships with her parents and with her childhood while forced into a place and form that she can't fit out of love. Also an excuse for lots of purple-prose magic description, which I'm always a fan of. I'm not terribly happy with the bones of it anymore, and it's hard to reconcile normal mental reactions with Eldritchly-Inhuman Maia instincts without leaning too hard one way or another and feeling wrong, but I still love some parts and the premise so it will probably end up reworked in the future.

When she finally stopped Singing (she didn’t run out of air) she had wings large enough to half-span the throne room, and skin that glinted like metal and iridized like the inside of a shell, and eyes brighter than the forest-frozen stars, and hair that spiraled like clouds (like her mother’s) and, and, and. She didn’t speak for a month, until it all (mostly) went away, leaving her stretched and straining at her body’s seams with the knowledge of her new potential. The forest's bird-song didn’t come back for another week.

Unreturned: An AU where Luthien is able to return to life as a mortal(ish) because of her nature, but Beren can't because of his. She agrees to go back and live her life for as long as she can bear (very reluctantly, in no small part because in this AU she's already pregnant), and resolves that since she doesn't have Beren to settle down with, she is going to fuck shit up and leave as terrifyingly awesome a legacy as she can. Beren is her impulse control. Would love to do more with this but it's 90% undefined break-it-less vibes in my head which with the Silm means so much planning to get pieces to fall into place without making things worse. I do know that the major canon divergence would only start after the Nirnaeth was lost. Also featuring Maedhros and Luthien becoming really weird, terrifying, and vaguely codependent besties (a relationship I care so much about with less than 0 basis), and Daeron trying to coparent Dior while keeping his sister even halfway sane (paralleling Maglor with Maedhros- and possibly Gil-Galad?)

Luthien begs. She pours her heart and soul out into her Song, all her rage and grief at the unjustice of the world. Namo, the great judge, grim and unrelenting and always, always just, he cries. He sits, silently listening to her, as tears drip down his stony face. He is not unmoved. But there are laws greater than he to be upheld, and mortals do not return from death. Elves do. And Maiar do not die.

[the-feanturi]

*sigh* where's my robe, I can't just wear this armour for a day!

[aragornsrockcollection]

Fic idea:

There is a hall of waiting for men in Mandos too, right? For them to wait for their loved ones before they go on together? (If I made that up it’s just the fic premise now, but isn’t this where Beren was chilling when Luthien came for him?)

Anyways Elros figures out while he’s waiting for his kids that he can use his Descendant of Luthien powers to pop over to the Elvish side and meet all the dead elvish relatives he wouldn’t get a chance to know until the breaking of the world otherwise.

He realizes most of them are either gonna be there forever cause they demonstrably Can’t Get Over Their Shit, or Valinor will end up a burning pile of rubble as they are released and forced to face their shit whilst alive.

This is a problem because Elros knows his brother craves family, and while they both accept he and his twin cannot be together forever in life or death, he expects these layabout relatives to get off their dead asses and start making up with each other, so when his brother ends up in Valinor, whenever that may be, he has a loving supportive family that isn’t dragging him in a hundred different directions.

Cue dead Elros playing life (death?) coach to a bunch of dead elves. Some of them are conscious enough it’s like having a normal conversation. Some of them are in soothing or disturbing dreamscapes, with various degrees of awareness of where they are, what they’ve done, and what has happened since they died.

Helpful sidekicks include:

- Soon to be released Glorfindel!

- Finwe, cause he’s sick of his family being idiots and sad his BFF Elwe isn’t talking to him.

- Elros’s extremely argumentative wife, who’s a little confused, but she got the spirit.

- Namo very deliberately Not Helping, because they are Breaking Rules, but who keeps giving them hints like “It would be a shame if you dragged this person’s soul by it’s metaphorical ear to talk to that person’s soul, which of course is interfering which is Bad, I hear.”

- A maia representative sent by Nienna (who thinks this is brilliant). It’s a Maia who really loves elves, and is really interested in how to get them to stop self sabotaging with their own stupidity, and yeah. It’s Gandalf.

Pervading questions:

What happened to Dior and the first set of Peredhel twins?

Where are the Feanorians? Did they really get sent to the void?

Why would anyone want to live forever dealing with this nonsense, is Elrond a martyr or just an idiot. It’s just Finwean family drama? forever?!?!Elros is very confident he made the right choice.

I’ll definitely write this outside my head >>

[dialux]

Another thing that I’ve just been assuming without actually confirming is that I always considered Mandos’ Halls to be created as Namo’s home- it’s only when the Valar battle Morgoth that he places a geas on it to imprison Morgoth in it, and it’s only when it’s clear that Miriel will die that Namo places another geas to hold elven souls and funnel them back into another life in Arda. This serves three points: first, it showcases that the Valar have incredible power to change the very fabric world; second, the argument of Arda being “prisons all the way down” carries less weight, because the prison is imposed upon the elves by a power they know isn’t all-powerful or all-knowing.

But most most importantly, this means that any elf that died during the Great Journey or at Cuivienen or in any time before Miriel’s death died, and will never return to life until the Dagor Dagorath, and there’s nothing the Valar can do about it.

And that highlights so much better the grief and terror of the elves that leave Cuivienen- they’re immigrants of their own, but this time they’re immigrants in the vein of the first humans fleeing the frost of the last ice age- terrified, lost, hoping desperately for something better.

[galadhremmin]

The Nirnaeth Arnoediad being named after Mandos’ curse -- ‘tears unnumbered ye shall shed’ -- reads like this is when the Noldor finally give up and realise they cannot defeat it. It is an acknowledgement of the vanity of the hope that caused them to fight, a final defeat by the Doom. Fingon had his moment of hubris; he assumed being shown mercy once meant there was reason for him to hope in general. He was sadly mistaken. The Doom always wins.

But the fact that he tried at all says a lot; it shows either misplaced confidence in the Valar making an exception for him again or being convinced by Maedhros’ Feanorian ‘fighting against Fate’ idea. Neither make him look particularly deserving of intervention to the Valar, I suppose. His father’s body, at least, was saved, if not his life. Fingon is trampled into the mire. 

But then Fingolfin was not fighting Morgoth with the hope to win, or any idea that he could; it’s a suicidal charge, full of rage but utterly devoid of hope. 

His nephews had just died, the Feanorians have been driven back and so, 

“Now news came to Hithlum that Dorthonion was lost and the sons of Finarfin overthrown, and that the sons of Feanor were driven from their lands. Then Fingolfin beheld (as it seemed to him) the utter ruin of the Noldor, and the defeat beyond redress of all their houses; and filled with wrath and despair he mounted upon Rochallor his great horse and rode forth alone, and none might restrain him.”

I suppose it is Fingolfin’s lack of hope, the loss of the attitude that drove him onwards over the Ice-- that is rewarded in death.

And then, of course, his body is brought to Turgon, not to Fingon. I’m very tempted to interpret this as a show of preference by the Valar; the Eagles might be independent creatures but they are certainly Manwe’s birds. It is to Turgon’s tolerated little Valinor imitation he is brought, a mountain city almost as isolated as Valinor itself had been, and founded through obedience to one of them.

Not to Fingon, who had only just lost his father and was trying to claim the High Kingship (none too succesfully, it seems; Finrod names Finarfin High King immediately after Fingolfin’s death, and the Nirnaeth is remembered as fought by the Union of Maedhros).

Anyway, this leads me to wonder; why wasn’t the body bought to Fingon? It could have strengthened his claim to High Kingship by imparting some sort gesture of approval by the Valar. Fingolfin himself had succesfully contested Feanor’s Kingship at least in part through claiming his being appointed rulership by the Valar in Tirion still held.

Instead Thorondor brings tidings to both Gondolin and Hithlum, but leaves the body on the mountain near Gondolin.

Turgon gets his warnings, which he ignores; for the Nirnaeth Fingon receives none at all. 

Perhaps it was his renewed ‘ancient friendship’ with Maedhros that had drawn him too close to the Feanorians, who after all were the most heavily affected by Namo’s Curse of all; “On the House of Feanor the wrath of the Valar lieth from the West unto the uttermost East, and upon all that will follow them it shall be laid also.”

Either way Fingon gets no warning, no rescue; not even his body is saved. No eagle comes for him this time, and they trod into the mire of his blood. 

[novemberthecatadmirer]

I just want to read Maeglin-in-Valinar slice-of-life fic

The thing is I’m not even sure how long he’ll stay in Mandos

—————

Different with Feanor and his sons, Maeglin’s choice was rather limited (Of course whether the Oath had power to push someone is still not clear)

The issue was his bad free choice was to break rules and wander around.

The action itself was not evil

It even had a good reason (to look for resources likely to strengthen the city’s defense)

Getting snatched up to Angband was the problem

Like, the only argument people can make is saying he should let himself be killed or kill himself but that is not something can be asked from anyone

The issue was, the choice was between death (good luck on that, especially if they had methods to prevent people from suiciding), being forever tortured until someone defeat Morgoth (too bad elves were immortal), and do what was asked

(It’s seldom appreciated enough how much Hurin sacrificed for Gondolin)

The issue was, he would not be able to choose with a sane mind. And people make horrible decisions when they are not entirely sane

The issue was, when a person viewed something more important than other things, they would choose to save the one thing and sacrifice the rest when they get pushed enough

It’s so easy to imagine how it can be done. Like, simply convince him Gondolin had no hope to win. Then he would try to bargain for what he thought he could preserve.

And Morgoth can be very convincing when he try to make you believe there was absolutely no hope

If Spell of Terror was real (or Morgoth created PTSD) Maeglin was already under the curse that fell on every Unnumbered Tears survivor.

Then he got a new one (Morgoth overdid the work when he wanted to overdo the work)

He could be convinced that the city would lose anyway. If he told anyone and tried to resist or help people run away there would only be more punishment coming. At least he’ll get to save Idril and part of the city is he stayed quiet.

But he also might hope the city would stand. He did not want to tell he betrayed the city; the cliff was right there. Maybe everything was still going to be okay even if he stayed silent.

—————

All of his bad decisions can be explained. Loss of hope. Loss of faith in there would be hope when there seemed to be no hope. Loss of mental strength due to getting tortured and already having ptsd.

Yet his action allowed evil to happen and he did evil himself. But it was not done under a sane mind and it’s very hard to decide how free his choices were.

If Namo judged people based on how evil they were (I actually do not headcanon Namo that way, I don’t think Mandos was a jail) it’s difficult to judge him

—————

I think the issue with how long he was going to stay depended on how much mental damage he got

Which was… Horrible

But it was also tricky because we really do not know how elves’ mind work

Or if Mandos was actually extremely cozy and you just want to find a nice corner with tapestries of forests from Years of the Lamps and SLEEP

Based on Maeglin’s record, he was the character who kept actively doing things. He went to Gondolin. He went to Unnumbered Tears. He built the seventh gate. He went to the mountains against the rule. He went to attack Idril and Earendil (good job Tuor!)

It makes sense if he became unsure of his own decisions post Mandos and avoid doing things.

I personally think it also makes sense he would be like “no I still need to DO things but I’ll discuss my decisions with other people next time”

My personal headcanon is he was not the kind of person to heal through living quiet life and doing nothing; he was the type that learned things through actions

I just think, of course he’ll be not okay even after Mandos but the thing is he would absolutely put up a rather good rather normal rather okay facade 24/7 (Habit and Noldor pride)

I mean he was adult. Young adult with unprocessed childhood shit (even in the case that his parents did love each other) and guilt over death of parents and improper crush and likely anxiety and later cases and cases of ptsd. Still an adult.

Adults are stupid because they are not going to behave like a child. Adults say they are okay when they are not. Adults are tired and try as much as they can anyway. Adults feel horrible and stay in bed whole day then the next day will force themselves to get up for grocery. Adults live even when they sometimes see no point. Of course adults break but they did not let everyone around to see. Adults try to make themselves appear functional and normal and try to get better and help themselves.

—————

I just really really want to see Maeglin-in-Valinor fic that focuses on him trying to live instead of apologizing to people…

The issue with apologies is sometimes people you wronged do not want to see you. They do not want to even hear about you because even the thoughts of you triggered their traumas

And that’s justified; people have the right to not forgive and they can move on without forgiving those who hurt them

Apologizing for your wrongdoings and getting forgiven help you to move on from your guilt but sometimes you will not get that and will have to live with that guilt

That’s one of the real punishments

Like, I just want to read Maeglin trying to have a life? And actually find out the world is large and wonderful even when he was super depressed? (Aman was HUGE)

Someone pls write a recover-from-horrible-young-adulthood-depression-and-do-your-hobby-and-forgive-your-parents fic

[animatorweirdo]

Imagine being the grimm reaper and befriending Glorfindel.

(Originally an imagine, but now a head canon. I hope you like it, and go check out imagine-all-the-elves. I send there ideas from time to time. Great stuff.)

Imagine by @imagine-all-the-elves​

Requested by @a-contemplation-upon-flowers​

Warnings; death, devouring souls, mentions of war, sins and angs. Glorfindel being the bright soul.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-Since the beginning, you have wandered middle earth, guiding the lost souls and claiming the souls of evil.

-You were an embodiment of hate and despair. You brought justice and devoured the souls if they were rotten to the core.

-The elves call you the punisher, the unforgiving hand of Mandos.

-They were more aware of your existence and thus feared and respected you; They stayed away from doing evil deeds the most.

-The humans call you the demon or the grim reaper. Their souls end up in your hands the most after living a life of sins.

-Creed, lust, wrath, pride. Humans were the worst. You have lost count of how many times you have devoured their souls.

-They always leave a foul taste in your mouth.

-Dwarves were also aware of your existence and sometimes paid tribute to make Aule happy because they believed if they disappointed their creator by living a bad life, Aule would hand their souls to you.

-Even the hobbits, who you adored the most, had a tradition made for you. They grow white and grey flowers at their doorstep to tell you they have been living well and to make you happy because they thought the white flowers could live even in your realm.

-Adoring tradition.

-The living have made many stories about you. The guide of the afterlife. The grim reaper. The punisher of the evil. The demon under the bed. The wandering man.

-So many names and stories, but your task has always remained the same.

-Punish the souls of the sinners and guide the lost ones back to Mandos.

-Your master lord Mandos himself envisioned the world to become corrupt, so he entrusted the task of purging the souls from the dark and devouring the evil souls if you had to.

-Unlike your fellow maiar compatriots who took care of lord Namo's duties within his halls, you wander around the world.

-You were immune to corruption of the dark because of your origin.

-You weren't originally a maiar. You were born from the despair and the hatred of the first elves Morgoth had wronged. Your master had sensed your existence and pain, so he took you in and blessed you to become a real being.

-For hundreds of years, you have continued this duty, and you will continue it until the end of time.

-You existed in the realm of death, which was unseen by the living. It was cold and colorless. Only the souls shone brighter.

-Dark was your gown, and you carried a scythe as a weapon and a tool.

-Your physical appearance didn't have meaning because you can appear as many things by the sinners. Things they feared, people they wronged, everything that gave them dread.

-When you didn't appear like that, you looked almost like the living. Your hair was grey like an old man's, and your skin was pale as snow, but your lower face appeared like a mouth of a skeleton.

-Anything under your nose was nothing but a skeleton, the skin was almost transparent, and the gown covered your body which was nothing but a mass of darkness.

-Your appearance was horrible to look as many would say, but you didn't care.

-You have seen many things through the ages. The wars for the jewels that caused the death of many innocent. The rise and fall of many kingdoms. The sinking of Beleriand. The rise and fall of Numenor and so many more. You have seen it all.

-You could say the first and the second age were the busiest time of your life. You almost thanked Eru that everything calmed down when the third age came.

-Years have passed, and nothing new would happen. You guide the lost souls toward Mandos. You feast and punish the souls of sinners. It was the same as always.

-But someone peculiar would interfere with your work from time to time.

-Glorfindel, the reborn warrior from the time of old. The elf with golden hair and presence like a sun.

-You met him once during the fall of Gondolin. Your master sent you there with your old friend, Gorgumoth and the other hounds, to retrieve and spare the elven souls from the darkness.

-Glorfindel valiantly fought a balrog but died after they both fell from the cliff. His soul released from his body, but so was the Balrog's which almost snatched him into darkness.

-You saved his soul by reaping the Balrog's soul from existence. It would never return even with the blessings from valars.

-Glorfindel looked at you with fear when you appeared before him, but you gently guided him toward Mandos, and that was that.

-You didn't think much of the encounter, but to your surprise, the elf returned years later, sent by the valars.

-Since he died once, he was able to see you.

-The living can see you if they experienced death, so it was weird for you to be seen by him. It never happened before, especially when he was curious and sometimes followed you around.

-You didn't encourage yourself to talk or interact with him because it was not part of your duties, but he didn't cause any trouble, so you left him be.

-He was talkative and wondered how your powers and duties worked. He respectfully never crossed the line with his curiosity, so you were never uncomfortable answering his questions.

-You gave simple answers, but whenever you spoke, he was even more eager to talk with you.

-You rarely spoke because you never had to speak with living before. It was weird for you.

-You didn't mind his presence because you found him somewhat enjoyable to have around.

-You two would sometimes exchange tales and stories.

-He would tell things from the living, and you listened.

-You didn't have much to tell, but you told him about peculiar souls you have met and punished.

-One interesting story you had to offer was that once every ten years, the valars gave you the power to deal with the living. You used that power to invade Angband and reclaim souls from Morgoth's grasp.

-Unlike other maiars and spirits, you were not born from the light, so Morgoth and his underlings were powerless against you whenever you came.

-You would kill and reap the maiars under his commands and release the innocent souls so they would saved from his corruption.

-It was one of the reasons why the creatures of the dark feared you the most.

-Glorfindel would laugh because his kin has called the times when Morgoth would be weakest, the years of bad luck, now he knew it was your doing.

-Conversation became a common thing between you two.

-But then he started interfering with your work.

-When you try to collect the souls of the animals who were about to pass away. He would be there to heal and rescue them from death.

-In some rare cases, he would help people out and change their fate.

-You didn't mind his interference because there was no rule the living coulnd't save others and alter their fate, so he was free to do it.

-You started to enjoy it because it felt like a game where who was the first to save or take the soul. You can't interfere because you have to wait until the soul has left the body, so it was on Glorfindel if he could interfere first.

-It was usually with animals, and you lost most of the time. Glorfindel would always smile and laugh, telling you he won. It was never in a vile way but joyfully.

-You sometimes chuckled, happy to lose to him. You did enjoy losing to him, and not just because it would mean less work for you.

-For the first time it felt like there was light in your realm.

-Glorfindel never interfered when it came to sinners, so he respectfully stayed out of it when it was time for them to go.

-You stay out of his sight when it's time to punish some souls, so he will be unable to see what you will do to the sinners, but in close distance, he can hear the screams of the soul you reaped.

-It would send shivers across his back, but he never thought less of it. Your duty was to punish the evil, so he never thought lowly of you.

-Your powers were great, and you had the right to be feared. Glorfindel didn't even think you looked horrid in the eyes of others.

-To him, you held some sort of beauty of nature and the afterlife. You were the spirit of Mandos after all.

-You don't always cross paths, but when you do. Glorfindel always treats you like an old friend.

-You do not feel much. You can't cry, hate, or have other emotions, but you enjoy the golden haired elf's company.

-No one knows Glorfindel can see or interact with you. He was to never speak about it.

-He sometimes interfered with your work, but sometimes he aided you with it.

-He wished to aid you when you had troubles finding certain sinners, so you gifted him a bell to summon you when he crossed paths with them.

-The Nazguls became troublesome when they came into existence. They were powerful and free from the shackles of life, but they knew to fear you and avoid Glorfindel.

-They try to avoid the golden-haired elf at any given chance especially when he rings the bell and you arrive to finish the job.

-The hollow screams would be filled with fear, and the living would know what scared them.

-It was strange to allow a living to help you, but it made your work less troublesome, and you enjoyed Glorfindel's presence.

[procrastinationonvacation]

Bear with me here, but I am firm in my belief that the tapestries in the Halls of Mandos function like movie screens, showing either important events or important people (often said important people are just going about their daily lives).

So all the dead members of the House of Finwe just sit around a tapestry with imaginary popcorn and watch the world. Some of it is tragic and moving of course, but so much of it is benine (they spend the majority of the second age trying to figure out who Gil-galads parents are).

But once things start happening in the third age (in which our movie-watchers have previously split their time alternatively encouraging Galadriel to deck Saruman in the face, and getting weirdly invested in Shire politics) they quickly develop a favourite hero. Said hero is Eowyn. She reminds them all of Aredhel, and by the time she joins the army they’re all in mass support of everything she does.

What I’m saying is that once Eowyn actually fights the Witch-King, she has the entire House of Finwe cheering her name, and when she wins they all riot so hard Namo kicks them out of the Halls. Naturally both Maedhros and Anaire (once someone tells her about it) lament the fact that they couldn’t marry Eowyn instead of their current husbands, and the rest of the family vehemently insist that Arwen chose the wrong mortal.

HCanon I absolutely ADORE THIS. However, if it doesn’t culminate in Gandalf being forced to go back to ME to “go get our girl” under pain of death until Eowyn is like “no I’m good” at which point Olorin has to haul ass *back* to Valinor, while a very upset Faramir is protesting that he’d like to see the undying lands, pretty please with a cherry on top. (I love Faramir very much and im sorry)

Also, just to be clear: they know Saruman is bad news pretty early and are angrily yeeting popcorn, almonds, and the occasional knife whenever he shows up on screen. At first Namo thinks its just them being Overly Aggressive, and honestly, the Feanorians aren’t quite sure why they hate him so much either. But at some point Saruman does turn evil and the valar do concede that when it comes to being oddly in tune with exactly who is “a traitorous piece of shit” the shiny murder family (minus Celebrimbor who is a kind and innocent soul) takes the cake.

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Further bonus: they demand occasional cuts to Maglor, which is then spliced in comedically, in a “Meanwhile Maglor” segment which could well be the same clip over and over. *insert that meme where the child wipes away a movie screen characters tear*

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When Frodo first shows up, he is almost crushed by the whole family demanding to meet the mayor. Frodo is really confused who “the mayor” is and if he is also “the potato man” until he finally exclaims “Why that’s SAM!” He is swiftly informed that no one ever calls him that, jeeze, but yes that’s “Sam.” Where is “Sam.”

They also go after Galadriel for giving Sam that tree and magic dirt because she really upset the balance of power there, but did she even consider that?? NOOOOO. She didnt.

There were all those rumors of Sam’s mayor ship being blessed. Was she aware of that?? Of the ridiculousness she’d brought into what was normally Good Ordered Politics!!! Galadriel’s like “fuck yeah I did think about that actually, and can you Really say Sam doesn’t deserve a little bit of awe from the people there”

The Feanorians realize that, being Galadriel, Galadriel is RIGHT. And since they have no sense of a middle ground, they get in contact with their sleeper agent Maglor (who’s obviously a sleeper agent and very much in contact with them, shut up). Who will now fulfill my life’s ambition of forming a cult as a (in)famous bard. The cult of Samwise the potato man. Sam would like to know what the Fuck is going on and he shows up to Valinor with Questions. (please ignore this paragraph, I just want a cult)

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Of course they’re also very pleased with Frodo, who is Small and a very precious little guy. Because we ALL love Frodo.

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Thanks so much for the ask, your head canons are hilarious and full of life as always. Have a great day :)

-Sam