Strange Alliances
by Erestor
Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to The Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, or the Harry Potter series. This story was written for entertainment purposes only.
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
'And after Celegorm Curufin spoke, more softly but with no less power...'
- J.R.R. Tolkien, 'The Silmarillion'
It was an ordinary cigarette lighter, harmless in the hands of most Elves, since few of them could operate it, and none of those few had any evil purpose for it. In the hands of Fëanor, it was a powerful and dangerous weapon. (Though nearly everything is a powerful and dangerous weapon in the hands of Fëanor. He has that affect on things.)
Glorfindel could not help but admire the kinslayer for his ingenuity.
Legolas was not so admiring. He was 'freaking out', as Krystalynn might have put it, had she been watching the fascinating scene. Which means that he was trying to scramble out of a window and climb down a rock wall, all the while yelling, "No! Wait! Stop!"
Fëanor grinned. He looked as though he were genuinely having fun. Glorfindel was thankful that he had never seen Fëanor take part in a battle. It would have been far too traumatic an experience for him.
Fëanor had a large amount of Legolas's possessions collected in a pile in front of Imladris, and in plain view of everyone. He was setting one item on fire at a time, and adding it to the already swiftly burning blaze. Just in case Legolas was missing the point, Fëanor kept on telling him to go to Valinor. Legolas wasn't really paying attention.
Glorfindel had always rather liked Legolas. It was hard not to like him. He was a quiet, unoffending Elf, clever, kind... and very good at archery.
Legolas apparently remembered that he was very good at archery, because he stopped trying to climb down the rock wall, and instead disappeared back into his bedroom. He reemerged holding a single arrow (all that was left of his supply, since Fëanor had his bow and was saving it to burn last), jumped out the window (Glorfindel held his breath, hoping that the Elf prince wouldn't land on the arrow and perish horribly), and raced across the grass to where Fëanor was standing.
"I think Fëanor is going to die again," remarked Glorfindel.
"He does belong in my Halls," replied Mandos. "As do you."
Nienna was standing next to them, looking very guilty. "Maybe I should not have suggested this idea to Fëanor," she said.
"It's too late for regrets," said Lórien fatalistically. It was hard not to be fatalistic while watching Fëanor dodging Legolas, who was trying to stab him with an arrow in a most unorthodox method.
After a while, Fëanor got bored with dodging Legolas and attacked him with the cigarette lighter instead. Glorfindel and the Valar all winced.
"Fëanor and I may belong in your halls," said Glorfindel, "but what about Legolas?"
"That's true... if Legolas dies, what will happen to history?" asked Nienna.
Mandos shrugged, which meant that he didn't know, but didn't want to say so.
"I think we should intervene," said Glorfindel. "Legolas is going to get burnt."
"I do not think we should intervene. It's too dangerous," said Nienna. "I don't want to be impaled."
Lórien nodded his agreement, but Glorfindel looked appalled. "Valar!" he cried, flinging up his hands in disgust. "You are always staying back where it's safe! You never interfere!"
"Would you honestly like it if we started messing with your lives?" asked Mandos.
"We'd like it if you started saving our lives!" said Glorfindel, jabbing Mandos in the chest with a sharp finger. Mandos was startled. He had never been jabbed so irreverently before.
"Oh, all right, then," said Lórien ungraciously. A moment later, Fëanor and Legolas both fell limply to the ground. "Happy, Glorfindel?"
Glorfindel was not happy. He was horrified.
"They aren't dead, Glorfindel," said Nienna reassuringly. "He's just made them fall asleep. Lórien can do things like that."
Glorfindel gave Lórien a wary glance, and Lórien gave the Elf a creepy smile.
"Would you stilllike us to mess with your lives?" asked Mandos.
("You should see what Mandos can do," Nienna whispered to Glorfindel.)
"You – you just ended that," said Glorfindel incredulously.
"I thought that was what you wanted me to do," retorted Lórien.
"It barely took two seconds," said Glorfindel.
"Don't you understand? The result of our intervention is always an anticlimax," said Mandos. "And that's why we let you handle your problems yourselves."
"It's more interesting for everyone that way," said Nienna.
fter Glorfindel had wandered away, still looking dazed and confused, Nienna commented, "I suppose we do have our powers after all."
"Some of them," said Lórien proudly.
"Personally, I'm happy not to be crying all the time," said Nienna.
Lórien and Mandos nodded. They had always hated it when Nienna cried. She had won all her arguments that way.
"But Mandos does not know the future any more," said Lórien.
"I think," said Mandos slowly, "if I knew what was going to happen, that would be an anticlimax as well."
Nessa was playing ping-pong when she heard a timid knock on her door. She set down her paddle, hurried behind her desk, picked up a pen, and called, "Enter," in what she hoped was an officious manner.
The door opened slowly. A tiny fëa shuffled into the room. Of course, all the fëar were small. If they were as big as Valar, then there wouldn't be enough space for them in Mandos Halls.
"Hello," said Nessa.
"Good day, Lady Nessa," said the fëa.
"You don't look very happy," observed Nessa.
"I'm not," said the fëa softly. It came forward and stood in front of her desk. Unfortunately, its close proximity to the desk hid the fëa completely from view.
"Perhaps you should sit on top of my desk," suggested Nessa. The fëa complied, scrambling up a stack of papers. It straightened its ghostly robes and bowed politely. "So, why are you sad?" asked Nessa kindly.
The fëa sat down, cross-legged, and looked up at her mournfully. "My name is Curufin," he said. "I have been in the Halls of Mandos for a long time."
Nessa nodded. It had probably been only a few thousand years, but apparently thousands of years felt like a long time to the fëar.
"And I—" began the fëa. He got choked up and had to try again."I miss the—"
"You miss the what?" Nessa's tone was soft and maternal.
"The— the stars!" wailed the fëa, and burst into a flood of piteous tears.
Nessa's heart melted. She suddenly understood why Nienna had been crying all the time. Surrounded by such tragedy, how could she do otherwise?
"There, there," she said soothingly. "It will be all right. Tulkas will read you some knock-knock jokes, and you'll feel much better."
"No!" cried the fëa, staring up at her in horror. Then he wiped the tears from his eyes, shakily, and said, "No, please, knock-knock jokes make me sad too."
"Why?"
Curufin wrung his hands in embarrassment, and then whispered, "They remind me of my mother... and I haven't seen her in eight thousand years!" He burst into tears again.
Nessa blinked rapidly, feeling rather teary-eyed herself. She began to wonder if the fëa might drown itself accidentally. "I could get you out of the Halls of Mandos," she said, "give you a body again, and let you live a new life."
"R-really?"
Nessa patted his head reassuringly. "Yes, my dear. Would you like that?"
"Oh, I'd be ever so grateful!" cried the fëa, jumping to its feet. For a moment she thought it was going to hug her, but, given their respective sizes, this feat would have been near impossible. The fëa seemed to realize this, because it gave her a tremulous smile instead.
Nessa got out some paper. Mandos had provided a large file full of certificates for fëar who were to be given bodies again. "This form has to be signed by Manwë as well as myself," Nessa said, scribbling her name on the line reserved for the 'keeper of the Halls'.
"All right. Thank you," said the fëa. Then it sheepishly traced a circle on the desk with its foot. "I was wondering, good Lady Nessa, if you would provide certificates for my brothers as well. I could not be happy in Valinor without them."
"I suppose I could manage that," said Nessa. "How many brothers do you have?"
"About five or six," said the fëa.
"I see," said Nessa. "So... would that be five or six?"
"Six," said the fëa.
"What are their names?" asked Nessa, pulling out six more certificates.
"Amrod, Maglor, Caranthir, Maedhros, Celegorm and Amras," said Curufin rapidly.
The names sounded vaguely familiar. Nessa frowned. Curufin held his breath. "Nice names," she said at last, filling out the forms. "What are the names of your mother and father?"
"Nerdanel and— and—"
"And?"
"Oh trees, I've forgotten!" cried the fëa in dismay.
"Forgotten?"
"Yes," moaned the fëa. "Isn't it terrible? To forget the name of one's own father! I have been in the Halls of Mandos for so long that I can't remember!"
He did seem terribly distressed. Nessa was afraid he'd start crying again. "Don't worry," she said hastily. "I can mark down that you don't remember. I'm sure Manwë will understand."
The fëa nodded wordlessly. Nessa handed him the seven certificates. "There," she said. "I hope you go on to live a happy life."
"Thank you so much! Thank you!" The fëa did an adorable dance of joy, while Nessa beamed at it happily, feeling glad to have passed on a little cheer. Then the fëa jumped off the desk, scampered across the room, and hurried out the door.
Curufin emerged triumphantly, and found that his brothers were not waiting calmly outside the door for him as he had anticipated. Instead, they were standing in a circle, watching Celegorm and Dior, who were trying to strangle each other (a futile attempt, since, being dead, they couldn't actually kill each other again). Curufin caught Maedhros's eye, and the other fëa sidled over.
"Did you get them?" asked Maedhros.
"Don't you trust your little brother?" asked Curufin, grinning. "Here's yours."
"Thanks," said Maedhros, taking the paper. "How did you manage to avoid bringing up Father's name?"
"I said I'd forgotten it. Lady Nessa was very understanding," replied Curufin.
"And I was nearly missing Mandos!" exclaimed Maedhros. "We could not have done this if he had still been around."
"What happened to him anyway?"
"I don't know. Maybe he got fired." Maedhros shrugged. "I don't really care. Just as long as he's not constantly breathing down our necks."
"Ah, but for all we know, he might have a new job," said Curufin. "We're going to be running loose in Valinor, after all. Mandos might show up again."
"Perish the thought," said Maedhros.
Curufin glanced back at Celegorm and Dior. "Who's winning?"
"Dior, when last I looked."
"Then maybe we should retrieve Celegorm and get out of here," said Curufin.
Maedhros nodded, and started towards the two combatants.
"You know, we can't all try to leave the Halls at once," said Curufin, halting him. "Manwë would get suspicious."
"We could go in groups," said Maedhros. "Amrod, Amras and I could go together, you could go with Celegorm, and Maglor could go with Caranthir."
"Caranthir won't like that," said Curufin. "He thinks Maglor is pathetic. Always panicking about whether killing other Elves is 'right' or not. You know. That kind of stuff."
Maedhros nodded. "Did you know," he said softly, "that after the Kinslaying at Sirion, Maglor became a vegetarian?"
Curufin looked blank. "What's that?" he asked. "Someone who worships turnips?"
"No," said Maedhros. "It's someone who only eats vegetables."
Curufin stared. "You're joking," he said.
Maedhros shook his head. "I wouldn't joke about something like that," he said.
"I cannot believe I'm related to him," said Curufin. "Ironic, though."
"Ironic?"
"He won't eat animals, but animals apparently have no problem with eating him," said Curufin.
"Ungrateful little blighters," said Maedhros, grinning. "Come on. Let's save Celegorm."
TBC...