Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Middle-earth, although I will accept responsibility for Maeluiwen. (Grudgingly)
The Halls of Mandos are long, wide, and high, stretching on into eternity. None who enter here can remain unchanged; the very air reeks of awe.
There tends to be a bit of an echo, so keep your voice down. And when Nienna visits, expect the entire place to be ankle-deep in tears. Other than that, it's not too bad a place to spend eternity.
Today, however (and 'day' is a relative term, here in Mandos), there was a definite disturbance. Namely, the enraged screech of a Vala, echoing through the Halls and making the Elven residents cringe and cover their ears.
Any good resident of Mandos knows that you do not piss off Námo, unless you wish to be reincarnated with rabbit ears. Thus it was from behind elegantly fluted columns and various pieces of furniture that they watched the Lord of Mandos pace in front of the doors to Nienna's quarters, using more swear-words per sentence than Aragorn has names.
"Nienna! Open that [censored] door right now, or I'll [censored]. I'm going to rip that [censored] a new [censored]."
After a pause, the door opened and a half-naked Valier leaned out, pouting.
"Don't you want me to be happy? I've been crying for ten thousand years straight – I think I deserve a break. And it's not like I have anyone else…"
"Well, if you hadn't dumped Ulmo for that [censored] Melkor, perhaps you would have."
Nienna sniffled. "Ulmo's boring. All the rest of the Valar were either taken, or related to me, and Melkor has his good points! And now that Daddy's gone and locked him out in the Void, and it's not fair!"
Námo rolled his eyes and ripped the door of the hinges, storming into the rooms. Shortly afterwards, Maeluiwen came running out.
Maeluiwen had given the admin staff of Mandos some problems. Certainly it was clear she was not a dwarf, hobbit or orc. Neither did she appear to be of the race of Men, or or those of Elves. Her claims to being a Faerie (half), did not help matters. So when Nienna had wandered through and Maeluiwen had decided she needed 'comforting', they had shrugged and let them go off together, figuring it would be less paperwork.
Now, however, the Halls looked to in danger from more than just piles of paperwork. Námo had once accidentally created an interesting portal which had taken him to meet a nice fellow called Zeus, who had taught him how to throw lightening bolts. However, he'd never quite got the hang of aiming them, particularly when angry. Luckily for the local residents, the flash-flood of tears Nienna was wailing as her 'lady-friend' was chased through Mandos put out most of the fires.
"Oh, crud." said one, hanging onto a table-top as another wave crashed through. "She's headed for the Fëanorian sector."
Behind them, a swathe of destruction lay. The walls between the Dwarven and Elven areas had been demolished, and there was a minor war going on. Between that and the Hobbits running everywhere, (Dead Hobbits do not need to eat. However, nobody had explained this to their satisfaction, and so furniture, items of clothing, and people's ankles were at constant risk.) Mandos looked to be in real trouble. The Orcs were huddling in one corner, looking scared. This is never a good sign.
Maeluiwen rushed into the Fëanorian sector, bouncing merrily, only to find she appeared to be at a dead end.
"Psst…"
She looked up to see a tall Elf grinning at her. "Over here!" He indicated a portal.
"Uh, thanks… uh…"
"Don't mention it." He shoved her through, watching as the portal closed, and then went back to looking innocent.
Gods tend to be harder to fool than that, though.
"Fëanor?"
"Yes, Námo?"
"You wouldn't happen to have seen a female-shaped thing run in here a few minutes ago, would you?"
"Nope. Sorry."
Námo glared. "Not even if I mentioned she was carrying a Silmaril?"
"Why that… wait a minute. Oh, no. I'm not falling for that one again." With that, Fëanor sat down, sulking, and would not speak another word.
"Oh, [censored]." said Námo.
-----
Vairë put the finishing touches to her newest tapestry, stepped back, and smiled at it. Ah, nothing like weaving to calm a Lady down after a stressful day. The fact that she'd long since had flood-gates installed outside her quarters and made sure her doors were lightening, fire, dwarf and Elf-proof might have had something to do with it, as well.
And her husband should be turning up about…
"[censored]!".
Now.
"[censored], [censored]." he mumbled.
"Don't worry, dear." she said. "I had the admin staff burn the paperwork. Nobody needs to know she was here."
Námo looked up, tears glimmering at the corners of his eyes. "It's the principle of the thing, Vairë. Nobody leaves Mandos without my express permission."
"Now, now, it'll be all right. Is there anything I could do to help?"
"Convince Fëanor to put some clothes on? Quite frankly, I didn't need to see that. And you're the only one who seems to be able to deal with him."
"Fetch me some new thread – I'm out of flesh tones – and it's a deal." She kissed him lightly and then skipped out the door.
Námo looked at the new tapestry – depicting two goddess-like forms involved in what might have been wrestling, if it wasn't for the bananas – and shuddered. He needed a holiday. The Void was supposed to be lovely this time of year, and perhaps he could talk to Melkor about getting back together with his little sister. The weekly floods were getting tiring, and quite frankly, anything was preferable to having that thing back in Mandos again.
Idly, he wondered where she'd ended up. Oh well, it wasn't his problem anymore.
-----
And somewhere in Middle-Earth, a portal opened up with an flash of light, and Maeluiwen fell down to earth with a thump.
She's back…
A/N: I really, really, really shouldn't have done this. I'd like to apologise to the Valar, the residents of Mandos, and Fëanor.
Anyone who spots where I got the Faerie (half) joke from gets a cookie for being a fellow nerd.