Disclaimer: I beg forgiveness from JRRT. Ithilwen does a much better job with Maedhros, but I need this for my story. Sorry for any unconscious manifestation of your influence. Slightly AU.
When he awoke, it seemed only as if a somber darkness had passed. Long years he had resided in Mando's Halls, yet the moment his eyes opened once more in a body to witness the lights in Eldamar, he could not remember what trespassed in the ages as his fea wondered listlessly, always in torment over the past, inside the gray walls of the solemn Valar.
He could not remember what he had said, and what he had heard after that burning light and the excruciating pain, but he knew he was forgiven and granted another chance, and that gladdened his heart.
Maedhros eyes remained partially closed for a while, accustoming himself to all the familiar yet strange, sensations. It had startled him; everything seemed so much paler, less vivid than what he dreamt; yet, his naked body enjoyed a dearly missed warmth as it basked beneath the new rays of Anor.
When at last he trusted his legs to stand, a strange sensation on his right side almost pained him. His hands brushed the faintly prickling grass, his hands! In wonder, Maedhros brought his hands up and carefully inspected each finger, gently touching his right hand with his right, not quite believing. He was whole again, and he thanked the Iluvatar and Valar once more in his heart. Quietly, he promised himself, as he dared no longer to vow, that he would neither blaspheme nor stain this grace, no one should have suffered under his hands at all.
He was home now, he was sure. Maedhros surveyed his surroundings and the scenes of happier days flitted before his eyes. This was the field where he and his brothers had tumbled, learning to run, dance, hunt, and later, to fight. The outskirt of Tirion, his old home, was nearby.
Treading on the familiar path, both new and old at the same time, dried twigs and leaves under his bare feet, gradually the rough road turned into smooth white pavements. Maedhros arrived outside the House of Feanor expecting to find it in ruins. The walls gleamed white as ever. He smiled as his mind replayed the childhood escapade of Celegorm, trying to climb over the walls and roam the woods despite the strict order from his parents. Celegorm..Curufin..Caranthir..Amrod..Amras..Maglor..his family.
The carved doors remained untouched by the ravages of time. The land of Valinor suffers not from the rage of nature like in Middle-Earth, Maedhros reminded himself, almost ruefully.
His hands paused before the door handle. Should he enter? Would it be locked? Has some wild beast taken up residence within the proudest Noldorin house, or is the house utterly deserted? Will his mother be within? No, she left to abide with Indis*. The bitter thoughts pained him. He would be at best, a stranger in his childhood home, and at the worst, a convicted criminal. Surely they did allow the renewal of his hroa only to torture him further?
Maedhros pushed the door open and entered the entrance hall, clean and untouched by soil. Once more he feasted his eyes upon the work of the greatest students of Mahtan, and remarked in wonder at the exquisite carvings on the walls as if he had seen it for the first time. Indeed, he had never fully appreciated the beauty his parents' created, being born amongst it, only the Silmarils, and even that, was over an oath, sworn in childish rage. His feet took him to his room, and found it was, everything in order as he had organized it before he left.
Finding a suit of clothes, Maedhros proceeded down the corridor, pausing in front of the end door, one beautifully carved with the mingling rays of the Two Trees. This was his parents' room, where he would go to escape nightmares when a child. His new hand ached, but his mind was afraid. There were too many thoughts, each tumbling over the other that he retreated, his soft boots silent as he walked out the house that only to evoke bittersweet reminiscences.
He entered the courtyard, and viewed the garden. Obviously, some kind souls had taken care of it. The trees and flowers were shapely, and grew accordingly. One hand absentedly plucked a fruit to satiate a gnawing hunder.Bolder now, and more used to the feeling of being fully alive, Maedhros circled the house and stopped dead in front of a window.
As all windows in Aman, it was open, the glass rested suspended above as gauze like curtains fluttered in and out of the room.
Inside, he nearly cried at the sight, lain Nerdanel asleep upon her husband's chest, her copper hair, mother to Maedhros' own, lying upon Feanor's dark locks. Her open eyes, clear blue stared at him.
"Mother?"Maedhros mouthed, the partially eaten fruit dropped from his hand. Then her eyelids fluttered, as if trying to determine reality, her waking dreams subsiding. Maedhros watched, a lump in his throat, unable to speak as he heard his mother whisper into his father's ear, "I think I see Maitimo."
*Nerdanel said she will dwell with Indis when Feanor left, or is it Finarfin's wife Earwen? That can't be right. My memory isn't that great, someone please tell me. See any strange mistakes, spelling, grammar, please tell me too.
AN: This will turn seriously humorous or humorous in a serious manner I hope, believe it or not. Would you like the situation with Feanor explained first, or would you like for me to get on with the story, and introduce Legolas and Gimli into the plot? Yes, I am serious.