Disclaimer: I own nothing of this world sadly. It all belongs to the genius that is Tolkien.
Argent.
A/N: I had always wondered what goes on in the Halls of Mandos. One of my conclusions is that the elves heal in their time there with some help from Mandos before they are reborn. This follows that logic.
In The Halls of Mandos.
Mandos slowly journeyed through his halls. Unnoticed and unseen by all but whom he desired to see him.
His heading for today was an almost deserted part of his halls. A cavern by which the fea of Feanor had taken residence in. He stepped inside slowly. Knowing Feanor had seen him, but as usual, Feanor looked ahead ignoring him. This time however, Mandos did not retreat to leave him to his thoughts. The time to attempt healing has come.
Mandos slipped his arms into the opposing sleeves.
"Feanor, eldest son of Finwe. Do you regret nothing?"
Again he was met by silence.
Mandos kept his cool visage. "Nienna weeps for the kin slaying of brethren and kin.…."
"I regret nothing." Came the harsh answer.
"She weeps for……"
Feanor interrupted him. "I regret nothing."
Mandos kept his stance as he continued. None knew how long Mandos stood by Feanor, repeating the woes and sorrows of the world that which his sister Nienna wept for, and for the souls whom he had claimed, who had died from the destruction wrought about by the Silmarills. He told of wars, of betrayals, of sins, of sunderings, of slayings, of despair. And yet Feanor's answer held true to every word.
"Nothing. I regret nothing."
Mandos continued, "She weeps for the kin slayings at the Mouths of Sirion, where Eärendil's people died, where Amrod and Amras, sixth and seventh twin sons of Feanor had perished." At this Mandos gave a pause. But Feanor held fast and said nothing.
Mandos continued, "Nienna weeps for the second kin slaying, in Doriath of the Thousand Caves, where kin slew kin and perished. Where king of Doriath passed to the halls of Mandos. Where Curufin, the Crafty, fifth son of Feanor perished. Where Caranthir, the Dark, fourth son of Feanor fell. And where Celegorm the Fair, Third son of Feanor also fell. To achieve not the oath of their father. To cast the young sons of Doriath to death in the forests."
Feanor's dark answer was, "There are still two. I regret it none."
Mandos gave nothing. He continued, "She weeps for the fate of the last of the sons of Feanor. Who attacked servant of Manwe, who retrieved the last two Silmarils."
A faint fey smile appeared on the face of Feanor.
"She weeps for the second son of Feanor, Maglor the mighty singer, who cast his father's Silmaril to the sea." Feanor's expression hardened with anger. "Who wanders ever in regret and grief and pain."
"He betrays his father. There is still one." Came the harsh come back as Mandos gave another pause.
Mandos calmly regarded him, "Nienna weeps for the eldest and first son of Feanor. Maedhros the Tall. Who's pain at seizing his father's Silmaril caused him pain beyond Arda, which caused him despair enough to render him into the madness and led him to cast himself into a fiery chasm and his end and the jewel's end."
Mandos paused, gathering the anger rising in the ageless face, "Do you regret? Son of Finwe?"
Feanor slowly stood to face Mandos. Anger collected into rage, at the reminder of the failure, at hearing his oath's failure, at hearing his precious silmarils were lost. "I regret Nothing." He hissed. "NOTHING!"
Mandos closed his eyes bowing his head slightly. "So be it." he simply said and turned away from Feanor disappearing from the elf's view. It was not time for this one's healing and rebirth yet.
Feanor stood where he was. Shaking with his rage. He took a step back closing his eyes and clenching his fists. "Nothing." He repeated in an empty whisper.
The End.