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Time For Another Jailbreak!  by Calairiel Malromiel

~Orehtelë - Formerly Fëanor’s Rotelë Quendu (man-cave) of Formenos~


Fëanor was a happy elf! Puttering away in his forge, smithing away and inventing this or that. Mostly toys these days as his four wed sons had all been reunited with their estranged spouses and were busily making him grandbabies. His own wife had finally forgiven him and they had renewed their marriage-bond and she’d recently gifted him with silver-twin daughters. The Ambarussa were thrilled! So was Celegorm!


They were his only unwed sons and for some reason they were the most pleased with these little princesses. The twins because they were twins. And Celegorm because he wasn’t the only silver oddity. It hadn’t mattered to the child how many times he'd been assured he had the same hair color as Fëanor’s own ammë, he still felt like the child found under a rock. 


This was probably because that is what his brothers all said to him when they were annoyed with him - which was quite often. Now there were three of each! Three brunettes, three gingers and three silver haired blessings! Fëanor’s world was complete and for the first time in his life he felt content with his life.


And then as if to mock him, a chill had shivered down his spine and he looked up from his work as a ghastly shadow touched his fëa. “Oh no!” he whispered in dread and his son, Curvo looked over and saw his atar’s face and dropped what he was doing to rush over to him.


“Atta! What’s wrong?” he asked fearfully.


“Something bad is coming.”


And Curufin fearing the worst, simply took the tools from his father’s limp hands and led him over to a chair while he got his father a cool glass of water. Being up in the mountains, they had the best water in all of Aman!


Fëanor was just taking a nice deep pull when the door burst open with a crash and the tall shadowy figure let out a loud whoop, saying, “Ha! Found you!” and a grinning Fingolfin stepped into the smithy.


Fëanor choked on his water, sputtering and spraying it about wildly. Looking up unhappily to his son, he said, “Told you!”


~Fëanor's Dining Room~


Nerdanel was busily spooning food into the plates of the five-year old twins, a frown on her face as she digested what her brother-in-honor was saying. “So….you want Fëanáro to leave with you? Whatever for?”


Patiently, for he’d explained it twice already, Fingolfin said, “I wish to take Náro with me to the Enchanted Isles - which aren’t really enchanted anymore - so we can free my grandson and his wife.” 


“Nelya and Kana will wish to go too.” Fëanor said, absently picking at his dinner and Nerdanel turned to look at him in surprise and exclaimed, “You’re not thinking of going, are you?” and then, “It’s that silly stone again, isn’t it? Are we going to start that nonsense again?” she scolded and the twins just looked on wide-eyed, for this was a different side of their ammë.


But Fëanor looked up, surprised and said, “No, of course not. Though, I’ll have to figure out a way to strap it to the ship to keep it flying in the Ilmen.”


“I’d suggest either the crows nest or just tie it around the head of the swan figurehead.” Fingolfin offered.


“If we did that I’d want to chop down the mast. Then it’d just be a swan flying with a beacon.” and then tilting his head, he added, “I rather like that idea, actually.”


Smiling, Fingolfin said, “I do too.” and then, “Then all we need to figure out is how to keep it up there without its captain.”


“I’ve been thinking about that too. The way they sail it is impractical. I think they did that just to be assholes.”


Nerdanel hissed out, “Language!” giving her husband the evil eye which encouraged the twins to both start using the word like it was a precious discovery. Especially with the reaction they got from their ammë.


Chuckling, Fingolfin said, “I tend to agree. I don’t have your expertise in calculations, but it’s already set on a course by Varda herself. Wouldn’t there be a way to keep it in that course, but continuously?”


“That doesn’t make sense. It launches and berths every night.” Nerdanel said, frowning.


“Yes, and when the world was flat it made sense to rise and set every night. But the world is curved now. There may not be anything but endless sea on the other side of the world, but as long as the velocity is properly set it should keep to the same course during the same hours on the Endor side of the world every evening with no interruptions.” Fëanor said, thoughtfully.


Sighing, but satisfied her husband wasn’t scheming to get his silmarils back, Nerdanel said, “I really don’t like the idea of you tearing off to get into more mischief,” and here she gave Fingolfin the vessë glare of disapproval and doom before continuing, “But the thought of those poor people being imprisoned and cut off from their kin for no crime at all except being peredhil outweighs any qualms I might have regarding said mischief.”


“I think that means you can go!” Fingolfin grinned.


“It does, but you can’t take the boys. If anything I’d want you to pack up and leave first thing in the morning before they find out.” she said.


“That actually suits my plans nicely.” Fingolfin smirked, adding, “And I brought the grandkids.”


“What grandchildren?” Fëanor asked, frowning.


“Their grandchildren. Elladan and Elrohir. You remember them. I know they spent a few seasons here.”


“Yes. They were capable. Had some real talent, but they’re undisciplined. Rebellious.” Fëanor said in disapproval.


“I found them much the same way, but I don’t think it’s rebellion. I think it’s boredom. I learned to just let them go about it in their own way. The thing is, they both have magic and every time they’d come across a problem or a mistake they’d just take shortcuts and solve it with their...talents.” Fingolfin agreed, added, “I actually think they’d be happiest near the sea. Lots of Teleri blood in them.”


“Well, I don’t think it’ll be up to us to find their life paths for them. We gave them a chance to know what they don’t like and I suppose that is something.” Fëanor mused.


“They are young yet. I’m sure they’ll find their path.”


“But why did you bring them?” Nerdanel asked in disapproval.


“They are blood kin. I really feel we’ll need them. I just wish I knew where their atar is.” 


And when he saw his wife was still dubious, Fëanaro shrugged and said, “Just go with it. I’ve learned to trust his feelings.”


“Do you have the Sight?” she asked.


“No, I just get…..feelings. Intuition if you like.”


“Didn’t you get the feeling it was a bad idea to pick a fight with the strongest vala of them all? But I suppose if you’re going to go out in a blaze of glory you couldn’t have chosen better. They still write prose about you, you know.”


“Meh. I didn’t do it for glory. That was me losing my temper. I will concede I don’t think clearly when I’m in a rage. Of course, I really don’t recall being in such a rage before or after.”


“You were dead. How could you be in a rage in the Halls?”


“I was mightily pissed at our treatment in the Halls, if you’ll recall.”


“If that was you annoyed I really don’t know anything at all about you.” he said dryly.


~Tol Eressëa~


Bilbo, Frodo, Sam and Gimli had been greatly enjoying their time living on the Lonely Island in fellowship once more, joined often by those they’d known in Endor. Gandalf, as Olórin, The Lady Galadriel, Lord Elrond and his kin from time to time, and of course, their friend Legolas. They’d realized this realm had affected them in ways they hadn’t thought possible.


While Frodo had been relatively young when he’d sailed, both Bilbo and Sam had been quite aged. And when Gimli and Legolas had arrived it was clear Gimli was feeling his age, as well. But the longer they stayed the more invigorated and youthful they’d become to the point that after several years they’d all begun to look to be about the same age and in the prime of their lives.


But it had been when the ships approached that Legolas said he must go to meet them, for it was his father. They had all insisted on accompanying him and when they’d stayed back to give him a semblance of privacy, they’d seen for the first time a rather large gathering of people who looked a lot like the prince. And who seemed to treat him like…..was Legolas married? We’re those people his kin? His children? 


They’d looked to Gimli and the dwarf colored a bit and hemmed and hawed, coughed a bit and then walked off to stand alone, though he had a soft smile on his face as he watched his friend. Hmmm - There was a mystery here!


And then, surprisingly, the ships had not come to Tol Eressëa like all the others have done since, well, forever! Rather, a sloop was dispatched to pick up the prince and his….kin. And when it had gotten close, Legolas became excited and those who had followed their friend could see there were more on that ship who looked a good deal like the prince and they just couldn’t stand it another minute. Marching straight up to him and the Hobbits looked reproachfully at him like he’d taken their last tart. 


But the prince would not be shamed, and laughing merrily he introduced his wife and children to his friends and called his friend Gimli over and introduced him as well. And when those introductions were done he then introduced his brothers - Belegon, his elder brother and Reuel, his younger brother. The three were obviously brothers, but unlike their golden sibling, they both had pale red highlights in their golden hair which gave it a subtle rose-gold shimmer. Very rare for elves and surprising to the friends of Legolas, who thought their friend was unique among elves with his golden locks.


And his kin were very pleased to meet the dwarf and hobbits and asked if they were coming along? And seeing the confusion on their faces Belegon said, “Did you not know, brother? Adar has brought the last of the Hobbits and dwarves with him from Endor.”


Shaking his head and chuckling, Legolas said, “Of course he has. Well, what do you say, my friends? Are you coming?”


The Hobbits agreed at once, “Oh yes, if you please.” and “Of course! Won’t it be nice to see sensible folk again?”


“Aye, laddie, I would. Much as I value your company and friendship, I see that I’ve been taking you from your own kin. And I find I agree with our Hobbit friends. It would be nice to be among my own kind again. Not that I haven’t enjoyed our fellowship, of course.”


“Well, come along then!” and they all boarded the sloop which took them away from the Lonely Isle and out into the open sea, until the scattered islands once known as the Enchanted Isles came into sight. And oh my! There appeared to be hundreds of them! and after passing through several dozen, the waters opened up again and to their eyes there was one that looked every bit as large as Tol Eressëa. And surrounding this isle was a vast fleet of ships. Once they docked and disembarked, they walked but a short distance before Legolas cried out and ran to greet a group coming to meet them.


They could see his father, Thranduil was amongst the group, but the others they didn’t recognize. Those with them identified them as their mother, sister and grandparents. People Legolas hadn’t seen for a long time, as they had been preparing this place for their people. And now, it looked like they would be sharing it with dwarves and Hobbits and they couldn’t be more pleased. For it would be just like home!


Once they’d gotten settled, Bilbo, Frodo, Sam and Gimli had gone to meet with their respective peoples and were shocked by what they’d found. Hearing their stories - which eerily mirrored the other when it came to the encroachments of the mannish kingdoms - saddened them, but their people were joyous to see those who had been as legendary heroes to them.


The Hobbits were grieved to find that the Banks, Browns, Grubbs, Haywards, Noakes and Ropers had all died out. The Chubbs and Sackvilles were also gone, though there were still Chubbs-Baggins and Sackville-Baggins represented. There were no Gamgees, but plenty of Gardners and Fairbairns, which pleased Sam. And of course they were pleased to learn there were plenty of Tooks and Brandybucks!


Still, while there were still Baggins, Boffins, Bolgers and Bracegirdles. Cottons, Goodbodys and Greenhands. Hornblowers, Longbottoms and Maggots (thank goodness!). Oldbucks, Proudfoots and Puddifoots. Smallburrows, Twofoots and Underhills with a few Goodchilds, Mugworts, Gammidges and Proudnecks thrown in, Alas! They were, nonetheless, a greatly diminished people! And thin! Oh Goodness! They looked as though they hadn’t had a good meal in years!


And when they’d settled in to enjoy pipe and pint the conversation turned to how they’d come to be there. 


They were shocked to discover that centuries had passed and now there were none among the newcomers that were known to them. Not even remotely. Sam had at least hoped to see that his great grandchildren were grown  to adulthood. Even to old age. But no! Those years were already remote to these and the hard times they’d fallen on had actually interrupted their favorite pastime of keeping their genealogies. This had occurred when their lands had drawn increasingly steady traffic by men to the point that severe disruption in their living standards had occurred.


Worse still, they’d learned that after King Eldarion had passed on, the new king had disregarded the grant of land given them by King Elessar and had annexed the Shire as part of Arnor. As a result, the Hobbits had been turned out of their home so the fertile land could be used to grow additional crops for their growing population. The Hobbits had gone to the only place they could - the Undertowers within the Tower Hills of Westmarch. 


And it was here that King Thranduil had found them on his way to check on his fleet of ships to one day take his people to Aman and learned of their displacement. And finding they were about to be evicted once more as the men of Arnor had informed them this land was theirs and they needed to leave. The Elvenking had told them to gather their belongings and to follow him as he was taking them to Mithlond which was still the territory of the elves and the men wouldn’t dare bother them while they remained.


There they settled into the abandoned Elven city and found it wasn’t quite so abandoned, after all. For the king had manned it with both his own people and the last known dwarves of Middle Earth. He told them to take what lodgings they wished and told them he would be taking them with him, along with the dwarves, for this was now a world that had no place for people who were not men. 


This initially frightened the Hobbits, until they mingled with the dwarves, who also had no enthusiasm to board ship to sail out into the unknown. Both peoples had huddled together in their misery, but the city was also filled with Woodelves. These had assured both Hobbits and dwarves that they also had no desire to leave Middle Earth. So it appeared to those in Mithlond, that they were a city of the unwilling, but recognized their need to leave as they now lived in a world where they were no longer welcome.


When some asked why they couldn’t just remain where they were if the men wouldn’t bother them here? One of the Woodelves answered with a sad smile, saying, “They are leaving us this city for a time, but only to encourage us to leave. If we showed the least inclination to stay they would make war on us in an instant. And we no longer have the numbers to resist them.”


And so they had resigned themselves to leave the only home they’d ever had. All of them.




The Hobbits returned and ran into Gimli who was returning from his visit to his people. They shared their news and found their people had the same tale. This was disheartening to them as they’d all hoped with the end of the Ring War and Sauron defeated, the world could settle down and live in peace.


Legolas, seeing their concern, said, “Fear not, my dear friends. We will not allow your people to waste away from want or neglect. Adar has said that Lord Celeborn and Lord Elrond are already organizing food supplies to be delivered. And from what adar has told me, he thought to bring everything from the Halls with him. It should be no hardship to set your people up with cooking stations, supplies, clothing...everything that can at least give you a proper start.”


Proud as they were, the Hobbits knew they had to accept this act of charity from their friends. At least until they were able to stand on their own. Planting and bringing in their own crops would go a long way towards lifting their spirits. And distilling their own ale and mead would also lighten their spirits! Gimli hoped he wouldn’t have a hard time selling the idea of accepting the offer of supplies. Then again, they’d left their Dwarrows and sought shelter with elves. And had boarded ship to sail to Elvenhome. Maybe not such a hard-sell after all.


Frodo looked rather depressed and said, “I had no idea that the memories of men would fade so fast.”


“Indeed, Lady Arwen must never know about this!” Sam exclaimed.


“I don’t think there is any reason to feel she needs to be protected from that knowledge. The mere contemplation of such usually guarantees her learning of it.” Legolas said.


“What does that mean, my dear elf?” Bilbo asked, confused.


“He means if we try to keep it a secret it will grow wings and fly to her ear.” Gimli said.


“That is one way to look at it. But it’s also foolhardy to think she didn’t already know of this. Before Estel left us the people already thought of elves and dwarves as mythical beings. It didn’t matter to them that their queen was eldar.” Legolas said sadly.


“Aye! And if dwarves and elves were make-believe you can bet that Hobbits were as fanciful as dragons!” Gimli said.


“But how would they explain the resting place of Merry and Pippin?” Sam asked, perplexed by the short memories of men. Especially with evidence right in front of their eyes.


“Who is to say? Perhaps as children cut off before they reached their prime instead of well aged Hobbits.” Legolas said.


“Has work begun to build smials for them?” Bilbo asked.


“I believe so, though it looks as though some of the Valar are quietly assisting.” Legolas’ younger brother, Reuel, said.


“Aye and the Noldor brothers are sending in an army of stone and metal crafters.” Legolas added.


“How are elves better at delving than dwarves?” Gimli frowned.


“Well, they’ve been trained by Lord Aulë, himself.” Reuel said.


“Ah, yes. Mahal. Greatly had I looked forward to seeing his great halls and I was overjoyed to meet the great lord himself. But I have to admit that I was rather disappointed in his lack of curiosity regarding my folk. Am I wrong in thinking he just doesn’t care?”


“I think so. I think it’s probably more likely he gave up guardianship of your forebears to Ilúvatar long ago and wishes to honor his promise.” Legolas said.


And rolling his brilliant green eyes, Reuel, said, “But that is what I’m trying to tell you! Great mountainous islands are inching their way towards this island. I think those are for you. And there are also islands of rolling hills that would be perfect for the building of Smials especially if they connect to the western edge where the fertile plains are. You’d have a nice little valley with plenty of room to grow your crops and your population. And I think it has to be the Valar who are managing this, which also means they’ve accepted adar’s argument on the legality of your peoples being here.” he ended happily.


“Am I the only one who thinks these Valar are a strange folk?” Sam asked.


“No. but it’s generally thought to be impolite to say so.” Legolas smiled.


~Finrod’s Road~


The Finwions were traveling at a pretty brisk clip which didn’t leave a lot of room for verbal speech, even with elven hearing. So the brothers were speaking via Sanwe-latya. Contrary to popular belief, the brothers had communicated quite often through mind-speak - which actually had been a major part of their problem. If they’d been any other set of brothers it would have resulted in the usual sibling rivalry and the occasional brawl followed by sharing a flagon or three of their favorite tipple.


Alas, they were Finwions and their rivalries nearly resulted in the end of the world! But just with these two brothers. Findis and Lalwen hadn’t been particularly close, as she preferred the pursuits of her brothers much more than the girlie things her sister and ammë enjoyed. And Finarfin got along with everyone! But besides some friendly collaborations, many of their conversations would devolve into shouting matches. Which was quite impressive with mind-speak. Most people thought their relationship cold and distant. It was actually red hot and constant. They talked everyday - or more precisely - bickered! It was just that no one else heard it!


Thankfully, their time in the Halls and their second run as living ellyn had brought about new understanding with one another. Besides, they needed to talk about the ones who were following them. Not the sons of Elrond. Rather, the sons of Fëanor. Specifically, his three unwed sons. Apparently being at loose ends and not interested in the least with any aspect of smithing meant they felt entitled to follow after adventure. 


Currently, this had taken the form of following after their father and their crazy uncle. 


There had been a meeting. The conclusion of which was that anytime Uncle Ñolo came calling interesting things happened. Things they usually missed being a part of - except the original mass-escape from the Halls. Things had been agonizingly dull since then - but that wasn’t quite true according to their cousins Elladan and Elrohir. The stories! 


But best of all, they knew this Teleri Elvenking. Were, in fact, very close friends with one of his sons. And interesting things seemed to happen when those people were involved - usually ending in something exploding or catching fire. This bore investigating! Hence their current tracking endeavor. Which wasn’t hard since they were traveling on the road their cousin Finrod had built and were on their way to their Uncle Ara’s realm - which meant they were going on a voyage! Assuming, of course, their atar didn’t order them back home the instant he got tired of ignoring them.


Lucky for them, their Uncle Ñolo was busy talking his brother into letting them tag along. What could go wrong?


~Tol Kimbalaer~


“What do you mean? He was wed way back then? Why don’t I recall Thranduil getting married, then?” Celeborn frowned, upset to learn that his cousin had been wed since the First Age in Doriath.


Oropher waved his hand dismissively and said, “Pah! There was none. He just came home one day bonded and wed. He’d met her while he was playing about in the woods one day and she thought he was pretty and decided to take him. When I met his lady I could see right away he hadn’t stood a chance. He’d just come of age, you see, and was completely green behind the ears. But as unorthodox as she is, she’s been steadfast and a good match for him.”


“You make her sound...calculating.” Elrond frowned.


“No I don’t. I make her sound as she was - as she still is. Just as Ilúvatar handcrafted her. And you, yourself display all the characteristics of the smitten even though it is only high regard you hold her. Now imagine being fifty and the recipient of her regard!” and grinning, added, “Uh-ha! I see you now have understanding. But as I said, she has been steadfast and true. And she adores him.”


Smiling, Elrond said, “It’s nice to see them together again. She has the effect of turning him into a smitten elfling and she’s the only one who can do that to him. It makes him more real, if you get my meaning.”


“I do, but I’m just glad to have them all back under foot again. I’ve missed them.”


“So, you are king, once more?” Celeborn persisted. It hadn’t been the first time he’d asked since he and Elrond had come with their supply delivery and for some reason the thought of his cousin being king really bothered him. And Oropher, being Oropher, had been playing with him like a cat with a mouse for the last hour….because why not? 


But now he was bored with his toy and flatly said, “No! No kings! Nowë is the lord of this land and everyone is just fine with that. We’ll do as the Silvans do and have Village Elders. If we run into problems it’ll be Nowë’s problem.” Oropher said flatly.


“Don’t you mean Círdan?” Celeborn frowned.


“Of course not! I said Nowë and I meant Nowë! What rot is that anyway? Calling an elf by his occupation!” he snapped, and then looking around, said, “Say! Where’d Elrond go?”




Elrond had left because….actually, he wasn’t sure why he’d felt compelled to leave. But it was a compulsion and it was just easier to follow it than fight it. Because, really! What did he have to fear here? It was just as exquisite as the Gardens of Lórien, though he couldn’t identify the trees here. It was just so exotically beautiful here he almost felt a stir of envy, which he ruthlessly quashed! He had his family and his daughter back. He was content. He really was, dammit!


And as he was walking he suddenly saw her - the Lady Mirilla, whose name meant pearl of the sea or sea treasure. Thranduil’s wife. And she was every bit as exquisite as he recalled. Tall and well made as all the Unbegotten were, with her rose gold hair, rarest of elven hues and her peaches and cream complexion and those liquid aquamarine eyes that any ellon could drown in. 


Yes, she could have always had her pick of suitors and she’d chosen a golden prince who had gotten his eyes and hair from his Vanyar nan. And he just knew the former king had to be near, because if she was here, then so was he. And as he got closer he saw Thranduil’s kin gathered around and he also saw dwarves and hobbits and he quickened his pace.


“Well met, Elrond!” Thranduil smiled, “You remember my lady wife, do you not?”


Bowing, Elrond smiled, “Indeed I do. It is nice to see you again, Lady Mirilla.” and looking about, he smiled to see the rest of their kin, “It is good to see all of you again. The world was a darker place without you in it.”


And the wife of Thranduil glided up to Elrond and gave him a warm peck on the cheek, “What a kind thing to say. But you were always a kind lad. I was happy to hear of the return of your own precious light. This world is brighter with the presence of your Evenstar.”


“Yes, my lady. She resides in the Gardens of Lórien which gives me a reason to leave Tirion.” he smiled.


“I’m surprised you are all still within the city. None of you strike me as city dwellers.” Thranduil smiled.


“I think no one has made the move because they were all waiting for us to be together. Now that we are, they don’t seem to have made any plans for the future. Which did surprise me. I thought for sure my mother-in-honor would have made grand plans for when her lord joined her. Instead, nothing happened and we all stagnated until the Fëanturi schemed to boot my daughter and Finarfin’s son out of Mandos. And that’s about the time I lost my sons to the glamour of Fingolfin. Who knew?”


“We’ve met him. He is nothing like I imagined him. And the sons of Fëanor insist it is his influence that greatly changed their father.” Thranduil grinned, “They still can’t quite believe the change they’ve seen, though they were with him as it happened within the Halls. He is apparently still quite driven, but a lot more fun and engaging.”


“Yes, indeed! Fingolfin somehow wrangled a promise out of him within the Halls that he would loosen up and try to have some fun. When I traveled with them he still seemed a bit on the serious side, but was trying to make an effort - especially when Fingolfin would give him the evil eye.” Bilbo smiled.


“You must be wondering why you felt compelled to join us, are you not?” Lady Mirilla smiled.


“Yes my lady.” Elrond said.


“I think it's time you should meet some of your family. Family that share your desire to free those who have been sundered from you.”


And suddenly a pair of ellyn stepped out and they had silver hair and silver eyes - and they were identical twins! And Elrond felt tears spring to his eyes because he could feel the kinship to them. And with a watery smile he said, “Uncles!” and his voice was choked off with a sob. The two, Eluréd and Elurín by name, took pity on him and moved to embrace him, for they knew he had been left bereft many times in his life.


“Yes, nephew. We are here and we know of your supplications to the Valar.” Eluréd said.


“Indeed, yes. But, you know? It seems to us that things only get going when their hands are forced.” Elurín speculated.


“So we wish to help you force some hands!” Eluréd grinned.


“How? How can we force their hands?” Elrond asked.


“Well, I might have an idea or two.” a new voice said. And turning, Elrond was shocked to see Fëanor step out from behind a large rock, along with several of his sons and Elrond’s own sons, as well. And…. Fingolfin. Ai! 


“This doesn’t involve stealing a silmaril, does it?” Elrond asked, agitated.


“One day I’m going to get all three and throw them in their faces….” Fëanor seethed, some of his old fire resurfacing.


“Maybe leave out the throwing part, eh brother?” Fingolfin grinned, adding, “Though I approve of the sentiment.”


Elrond looked helplessly at Thranduil and said, “You’ve just gotten here and you’ve stirred up more hornets than an orc stampede.”


“Pffft! This is nothing! You should have been here in the Second Age! That was some real stirring! And it still has folks talking!” Fingolfin said proudly.




Fëanor was displeased. Muttering to his brother, he said, “They are all twins and they all talk to the birds. Why do they do that? It’s irritating.” fuming over what he perceived as frivolity by the sons of Dior, Elrond and Elrond, himself.


“Well, they are also all descended from a maia that taught the birds their language. So, not so strange if you think about it. The ones I can’t figure out are the Sinda. They talk to everything! Birds, rodents, animals, flowers, trees, water and even the bugs! And there is no maiar blood there. I am mystified.” Fingolfin said.


“They whistle up the wind, too. The only thing I haven’t seen them talking to are the boulders and dirt.” Fëanor grumbled.


“They can hear the rocks sing. Only people I’ve ever noticed besides dwarves who could do that! When we were in Eregion the lad, Legolas, could hear the rocks mourning their loss. I couldn’t even hear that.” Gimli said and it was clear it had annoyed him an elf could hear something he, a dwarf, could not.


“They are certainly the kind of elves that are handy to have around! Why they can sing the fruit into ripeness and if we run out of mushrooms they can ask the ground for more. They say mushrooms are really quite large organisms that reach their tendrils out for miles and miles. You just need to know where to ask and they will provide, for it spreads their spores out even further and adds to their growth. Just imagine! Miles and miles of mushrooms.” Thain Mirabelle Took sighed happily.


“I see no point in talking to trees. Why do they waste their time? What does a tree have to say that is in the least interesting?” Fëanor groused.


“Trees have a lot to say. They are the closest thing to the eldar in terms of life span besides the Onyalie. Besides, I imagine it came in handy when they had foes trying to creep up on them.” Fingolfin pointed out.


“That’s true enough! They seem to have candy floss for brains, but you can’t deny the usefulness of trees that can tell you to run because something nasty is tracking you.” Gimli smirked.


“Well, come along. We have to get this show on the road and we have much to discuss.” turning to Mirabelle Took, the current Took Chieftain or Thain, since her husband Isengrim XIV had taken ill and passed thirty years before, and said, “Please excuse us, Mistress Took. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”


“I wish you a fine day, sir and the pleasure was all mine, I’m sure.” Mirabelle smiled, happily, bobbing a small curtsey. 


~Oropher's Home~


“So, if I might ask, what mechanism do you plan on affixing to the ship to keep it on course at the proper time every evening?” Círdan asked. His presence had been requested as he was the premier sea-vessel expert. Celeborn, Oropher and Elrond were also there, though only Elrond would play a part. Thranduil was out playing with his family and the Hobbits.


“None! As you know, the world is bent now. A sphere. All I had to work out was where to place it to lock its speed so the velocity is enough to defeat the downward pull of gravity. The ship has its own kinetic energy when it's launched every evening, so we just need to make sure its path is one in which to maintain its kinetic energy without degrading.” Fëanor said, ignoring the grunt of pain from his brother, who he’d just kicked under the table when he noticed Fingolfin had fallen into reverie. No sleeping on his watch!


Continuing, he explained, “A satellite maintains its orbit by balancing two factors - its velocity and the gravitational pull that Arda has on it. And most of the work was already set into motion when Varda set the ship on its course within the Ilmen. I just intend to use the electromagnetic radiation of the silmaril to shield the ship to keep it buoyantly sailing on the edge of the geomagnetic field of the Ilmen forever. No one needs to sail it.”


“So you plan to affix the silmaril to the ship?” Círdan asked.


“Yes. The prow is carved into the likeness of a swan. The swan can bear the necklace on its brow with the silmaril attached to it.”


“Great! Now how do we scale the tower of pearl and how do we get to the ship?” Fingolfin asked, alert once more.


Frowning, Círdan said, “The ship will be easy - as long as you are within the turret of the tower when it berths. Then you’ll have about twelve hours to complete your task before it launches.”


 “My only question is where are Idril and Tuor?” asked Fingolfin. He had purposely not informed his son, Turgon, what his plans were. No use raising the lads hopes only to have them dashed. Better to present him with a surprise!


“It is said they sleep within the tower and Elwing resides in the turret of the same tower.” Círdan said.


“How are we to awaken them? Actually, more to the point, how can we be sure we won’t join them in a nap once we step foot on the island?” Fingolfin asked.


“We’ll worry about that after we get them out. They may awaken as soon as they are removed. My only fear is it might be shielded to prevent entry.” Fëanor said.


“Lord Elrond, where is your maiar? Olórin. I think we could use his counsel considering he’s a maia of Irmo and Estë and it sounds like they are the ones responsible for that bit of enchantment.” Oropher asked, then added, “Perhaps Aiwendil, too. If it’s not a sleeping enchantment it could also be a plant or flower that causes the sleep. He’s one of Yavanna’s and might know of an antidote.”


“Well….I think we’ve got that covered. Plus a little backup just in case. I’d really prefer not to involve the ainur at all in this venture. While having their assistance almost assures we’ll be successful, I just feel uneasy having them around.” Fëanor said.


“You may feel uneasy, but I’d prefer to have them take the brunt of the Valar’s anger should our endeavor be thought to be imprudent.” Fingolfin said.


“Impudent, you mean…” Olórin said as he entered and found himself a seat, ignoring the stares directed at him.


“Does that mean you’re coming? Because imprudent or impudent, I don't care how it is looked upon as long we can get my parents out of there.” Elrond said.


“I agree. I recall the edict at the time and it said nothing of imprisoning them up there! At the time the only thing said was they couldn’t go back to Endor. Honestly, I think seeing Eärendil kill Ancalagon the Black rather shocked them and that is why they were imprisoned. Fear.” Olórin said as he smoked on his pipe. Fingolfin and Fëanor looked personally offended, while Círdan, Celeborn, Elrond and Oropher just looked stoically resigned.


“You know, the tendency of the Valar to imprison things they neither understand nor feel they can control is rather appalling.” Fingolfin said with a sniff and narrowing his eyes dangerously as Olórin lightly dismissed his notion as nonsense.


“Rubbish! Don’t be silly, my lad. They do nothing of the sort.” the former istari chuckled, adding, “Nonetheless, Aiwendil and I will be joining your little excursion….just in case.”


“Just in case, what?” Fëanor asked.


“Oh, you know….the usual.” he said blowing ring in the shape of a swan-ship that oddly had a glowing light on its brow.




Three days later they set sail, Círdan and a small crew of his most trusted Falathrim piloting the sloop. Aboard were Fingolfin and Fëanor, Elrond and his sons, along with Eluréd and Elurín. The sons of Fëanor had elected to stay on the island with the Woodelves to help with their settlement and also to eventually help with the Dwarven and Hobbit settlements - as soon as the islands reached their berthing and the ainu of Ulmo and Aulë properly anchored them. They thought of it as their own small penance for the trouble they’d caused in the First Age. 


There had been one tense moment when Celegorm had tried to apologize for killing their parents and being the cause of their own deaths as the twins - grown now - had just looked him up and down, along with the Ambarussa, saying nothing and making them sweat a bit, before telling them that if they were really sorry, they should help out with the resettlement projects. 


Thinking it a small price, the three had eagerly agreed and the Eluyungwi grinned and said, “Well, that was easy!” and “Pleasure doing business with you Noldo!” and left the three thinking they had both been played and gotten off easy!


Rounding out the passengers were the maiar, Olórin and Aiwendil…..just in case.

Of Eärendil and Elwing


Manwë gave judgement, and he said: 'In this matter the power of doom is given to me. The peril that he ventured for love of the Two Kindreds shall not fall upon Eärendil, nor shall it fall upon Elwing his wife, who entered into peril for love of him; but they shall not walk again ever among Elves or Men in the Outer Lands. And this is my decree concerning them: to Eärendil and to Elwing, and to their sons, shall be given leave each to choose freely to which kindred their fates shall be joined, and under which kindred they shall be judged.' Quenta Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien


Eärendil and Elwing had been prisoners of the Tower of Pearl for over Two Ages. Eärendil for twelve hours a day and she for nearly the entire time save when she’d be granted the ability to change into a sea bird and able to fly free to go and meet her husband as he broke through the Ilmen to berth Vingilótë at dawn. 


Had they known that this would be their fate they both would have chosen the Gift of Man. For a short span in captivity would have at least had the hope of release through death. 


When they’d first come, hope shining in their breasts that they’d been allowed to find the Blessed Realm, Eärendil had gone to face the wrath of the Valar to beseech them for deliverance from the monster that was Morgoth. 


Elwing had gone to Alqualondë to tell those who were her kin of the plight of their people - those teleri who had not made the voyage and had stayed with Elwë. And for those who were known as the Greenelves. Kin of the Teleri as well, who had finally made the trek over the Hithaeglir and the Ered Luin only to be met with ruin from the forces of Morgoth. Her arguments swayed them for the sake of their kin when many would have argued against her, thinking she came to beg their aid for the Noldor.


When Eärendil rejoined her to await the decision of the Valar they had been informed they and their sons would be given the choice of choosing to be counted as eldar or edain. Thinking of her grandmother and the pain her choice had caused her family, Elwind chose to be counted as eldar and her husband chose the same for her sake.


Then Eärendil had gone with them to war and they had given him charge of the silmaril and had enchanted his ship so that it could fly. Eärendil had performed valiantly, even killing the greatest weapon of the dark vala. And when they’d returned in victory Manwë proclaimed his final judgement on them. That they’d be placed within a tower, the turret of which would be where the air of Arda touched the ilmen - the place where the stars of Varda were placed - and from there Eärendil would sail his ship every night to become the star, Gil-Estel. The Star of Hope.


At first they didn’t understand what this actually meant. They understood that they would not be allowed to go back to Beleriand - which was no more. They understood they wouldn’t be able to see friends and family again, but they assumed that the outer lands had meant Beleriand. They hadn’t thought the outer lands also meant Aman, Tol Eressëa and Alqualondë. All these were evidently meant as the outer lands. They were to be cut off from every living soul they ever knew with no hope of ever seeing their family. Neither parents nor their sons.


They settled into their new life still with some hope. They had each other and Eärendil actually enjoyed sailing through the Ilmen. Elwing cared for the sea birds that came to their tower. She learned their language and even was granted the shapeshifting ability given her by Ulmo. And she’d fly up to meet her husband and they were content for a time. 


They were safe and there was no war here and for a while that was enough. In fact the first couple of millennia had passed and it was still enough. But when the novelty wore off, then time began to weigh upon them and they’d slowly become disheartened. Was this it? Was this their lot in life - forever? And then in a fit of boredom, Elwing had flown down to the base of their tower. It was smooth and of pearl that shimmered in the light of Anar, Ithil and even the stars. 


All around the base of the tower were thorny brambles and various flowering plants that she soon learned all produced a fragrance that brought on weariness. And if one wasn’t careful - sleep. She did her best to make quick trips in her seabird form. It took a while but she eventually found a single window and hovered on the breeze as long as she dared. But it was long enough.


That evening she told her husband what she’d seen. And then she’d shown him what she’d seen - his parents had been below them at the base of this monumentally tall tower the entire time. Sleeping! How could they? It was just too cruel. It was then that they’d given up all hope.


~Aboard the Kalaventë~


Fëanor hated ships and he hated the sea - and it hated him right back. The voyage of the Kalaventë was uneventful. They didn’t have far to go and they didn’t run up against rough waters, fogs or reefs that would hinder them. But his seasickness, even on calm waters, was miserable and all he wanted was to die. Being dead was infinitely better than how he felt right now. Barring his eminent death, he was seriously thinking of how he could poison his brother so he’d feel just as bad as he did. That this was Ñolo’s fault wasn’t even up for debate.


But then Ñolo was beside him and pressed something into his mouth and through his haze he heard his brother telling him to chew it. Ginger! He hated ginger and tried to spit it out, but Fingolfin not only forced him to swallow it, but gave him even more before making him drink some miruvórë. And strangely, it helped! His stomach stopped roiling, his head stopped its spinning and his vision cleared. And then he hugged his bestest brother in the whole world, gasping, “thank you!” over and over again. In that moment the sun rose and set on his brother.


Fingolfin hugged him back and said, “I remembered the last time we were aboard ship and I’m sorry I didn’t get it to you sooner. But I was told it’s not a preventative. I had to wait until you succumbed.”


Now that he felt better, Fëanor leaned against the rail and pouted, saying, “You could have at least told me.”


Grinning, Fingolfin said, “Yeah, I could have. Except I know how much you hate ginger and you would have resisted me. You not knowing it was coming was the easiest way to get it into you.”


Now feeling perfectly fit and hale, Fëanor said, “It’s irritating to know that the only way you felt you could help me was to treat me as a child. But I do thank you, Ñolo.” then sighing, added, “But did it have to be ginger?”


“According to Círdan’s Falathrim and Círdan, himself - yes. And I did ask.”



"They are talking to birds again!” Fëanor frowned.




“What do you mean, good?”


“I mean, precisely, that! If they’re chatting with birds they might pick up news of this tower we seek?”


“But I thought the shipwright knew its location.”


“It tends to move, apparently.”


Fëanor dropped his head in his hand, saying, “There is something wrong with these creatures!”


Knowing what creatures he was referring to, Fingolfin dismissed it by saying, “You know, Náro, you seem to have backslidden a bit since our last meeting.”


Peeking through his fingers, Fëanor glared at his brother and said, “I pray thee, do tell.” and felt some small satisfaction when he saw his brother flinch. Then felt ashamed for the petty feeling. Egad! He was slipping!


Fingolfin, though, took this as a good teaching moment, “Ew! No one talks like that anymore, Náro. That is so ten millennia ago! People will begin to think you’re a stuffy old coot!” and when his brother’s beautiful and youthful face lifted to look incredulously at him, he sent images of several ancient men at him to show him what an old man looked like and his brother recoiled in horror.


Then Fingolfin threw his arm around his brother’s shoulders and said, “Now look at those ellyn. They are kin. Three generations right in that little group. And in the veins of the youngest runs every royal bloodline of both elves and men. And a maia who taught birds to sing. Looking at them chatting with birds brings me joy, Náro and it should to you too. Forget atar’s court and all the rules that went with it. We are free of it. We should be as the children of Enel.”


“We are the children of Tata. Are you ashamed of that?”


“No, I’m not. But I notice Tata doesn’t reside with us. And besides Elwë’s people, no Teleri are even living on the mainland of Aman. They prefer the outskirts. Even that Sinda Elvenking is content to build a new realm with mortals rather than step foot in Aman and I find I rather envy that.” and smiling at his brother, added, “We are elves, Náro, and all the other races think us silly and frivolous. No, don’t look at me like that. I have no idea why they’d think that considering they saw us mostly in war and strife. Yet they saw something in us they found lighthearted and I think we should embrace it. They do.” he said, indicating the scions of Lúthien.


“I’ve just been trying so hard to be... good. I’m afraid of turning back into that thing I’d become.”


“That was grief. You’re allowed to feel grief, Náro. You’re just not allowed to destroy the world because of it.” Fingolfin smirked, adding, “Stop trying so hard. Just be that child who made water bombs. That child who helped me and Lally get revenge on Findis. Be that person. I liked that little ellon!”


Chuckling, Fëanor said, “It was amazing how nice her hair grew back. I have a feeling if she knew that would solve her problem, she would have shaved her own head long before she decided to be petty and ruined you, Lally and Ara’s hair.”


“It certainly ended the feud between us. She was much nicer after that.”


“Yes, but she went a little….weird, too.”


“She was always weird. But yes, she placed herself into a self-imposed penance after that. I think she is a person of extremes. She’s actually quite a bit like you. Neither of you have neutral emotions. Then there’s Ara, who exists mostly on neutral emotions. I’ve never met someone so easy going.”


“And yet, I could feel his grief radiating off him when atar was killed. He may not express his emotions very often, but he does have them.”


Chuckling, Fingolfin said, “I know it, brother. He and Lally were my best friends growing up. And it took several yeni to lose his temper, but once he did it was rather spectacular, wasn’t it?” and Fëanor burst into merry laughter, “Indeed!”


Then there was a call of, “Land Ho!” and everyone looked up confused, because there was little bits of land - everywhere! But then looking out on the horizon more carefully they could espy the gleaming tower of pearl that was so unnaturally tall its peak was lost to sight.


“It’s going to take forever to climb to the top of that thing.” Fingolfin frowned.


“Fear not! That is what we are here for.” the maia Aiwendil said.


“Yes! Just in case…” Olórin smiled.


Fingolfin and Fëanor exchanged a wary glance and Fëanor said, “What do you suppose happened to them out in Endor that turned them into... that?”


“Who cares? They’re both quirky and strange in their own way and yes! I believe it was solely due to their time on Endor. But, you know, it makes them more interesting.” Fingolfin shrugged.


Chuckling suddenly, Fëanor said, “That Elvenking, what was his name? Thranduil! Now his reaction to them was interesting! He treated the one from Yavanna as a beloved friend and the one from Manwë as one of long sufferance, peppered with moments that strongly indicated he wished to hit him over the head with a club.”


“With the way he smokes that disgusting weed is that so surprising?” Fingolfin sniffed.


“You know, that bothers me more than when the mortals do it. It’s like he does something to the aroma that causes it to be more offensive - on purpose!” a scandalized Fëanor, agreed.


But the two ceased their observations as the ship carefully approached the enchanted island. The closer they came, the more a tingling was felt by all aboard, not unlike ants crawling all over the skin. Very unpleasant and very effective as a deterrent to approaching the island. Then the two maia lifted their arms and the tingling stopped, but Olórin said, “Don’t become too comfortable. We’ve only been able to shield this ship. Once we step ashore it will return ten-fold!”


“Can you not shield us?” Fëanor asked.


“That remains to be seen. The first thing I think should happen is Aiwendil and I will do a reconnaissance to see what dangers lie in wait.”


“With all due respect, my lord. But we think the first thing you should do is clear out the foliage. It is all designed to cause sleep.” Elrond said.


“And how do you know that?” Aiwendil asked.


“The birds said so. We weren’t just chatting with them for the fun of it - though it is fun!” Elladan said.


Chuckling, Fingolfin nudged his brother as if to say, Told you so!


And then a very large white sea bird appeared to be diving towards their ship and before anyone could react an ellith appeared on the deck of the ship looking about uncertainly. Then, “Prayeth bid me this be no mirage.” she said in archaic Sindarin speech.


“Sister!” the silver twins cried and went to greet their long lost sister in joy, but she shrank away from them in fear. “Nay! Tis not true! I know not the cause of thy deception, but tis cruel! Mine own beloved brothers art long since lost.” she cried out in anguish.


Then they approached slowly, and stopped not too close in case she might fly off in fright. Then Eluréd said, “Aye, sister. That is true. We were left out in the woods by the fiends that followed the Fëanorionnath. And we did, indeed, die of the cold. But we were re-embodied when this ellon arose in rebellion within the Halls and we were all released.” he said, indicating Fingolfin who looked sorrowful at their tale and what he saw before him. 


Fëanor, on the other hand, looked destroyed. He had heard the tale whispered about within the Halls about these two who were mere babes that had been dragged out of their home - after witnessing their parents cruelly slain before their eyes - and left out alone in the winter forest to freeze and starve.


“Truly? Thou art truly here and this be not some cruel vision?” she asked with large tears welling in her eyes.


“Yes, truly, beloved sister. We are here as you can see and grown now. If this were a deception, wouldn’t we appear to your eyes as the children you last saw?” Elurín assured her. And then as she reached out a hand to them, they closed the distance and embraced their long lost sister as she burst into tears able to feel the familial bond of kinship.


“Oh, tis true! Thou art truly real.” she sobbed in joy now. Then she saw a single ellon slowly approaching her, fear and longing on his face and she caught her breath. “Can it be….?” And Eluréd held out his arm, encouraging Elrond to come forward, “This is Elrond, sister. Your son.”


And with a cry of anguish, Elwing practically collapsed in her son’s arms as he held her close before she collected herself and took his face in her hands and smiled radiantly into his face and said, “Oh! Thou dost have the visage of thy adar.” and looking about she spied the twins who Elrond gestured to come forward and said, “These are my sons, naneth, Elladan and Elrohir. Boys, come meet your daernaneth.” and they smilingly greeted her, gallantly kissing her cheeks and their easy manner did much to calm the skittish ellith.


And then she looked about and asked what Elrond feared most, “But where is thy brother, Elros?” and Elrond’s face became sad and he said, “He chose the destiny of men and has long since passed beyond the circles of the world.”


“He...he chose as my daernaneth did?” her voice broke and she swooned into a faint. Elrond caught her in his arms and said, “Well, that went better than I thought.” he said dryly.


“I’d hate to see what you actually imagined would happen, then!” Elurín exclaimed.




After recovering from her swoon and sipping some restorative tea, Elwing had listened patiently to all her kin had to say regarding the happenings since her sundering, before saying, “I mustn't tarry overlong err your adar become agitated at my long absence. Our time hath been uneasy, indeed, since learning of his parents’ imprisonment.”


“That is why we are here, my lady.” Círdan said. Their reunion had been joyous as he had been out to sea when the final attack came and he’d come back to the smoldering ruins. “We are here to liberate you all from this accursed place.”


“Oh nay! Thou must not! For the ship must sail err they will discover our rebellion. I greatly fear their wrath should they discover our release from bondage.”


Absolutely hating her describe her life as one of bondage and imprisonment, Elrond said, “I care not for their wrath! By what right did they have for treating you so poorly.”


And not used to seeing their serene father so passionate, his sons just sat silently wide-eyed, though their grandmother noted their expression and knew this was an uncharacteristic outburst from her son. But he’d always been more solemn than his more adventurous brother. And thinking only of him, she said, “Nay, my son. I beseech thee to take greater care of thy words. For I fear what calamity may befall thee in retaliation for thy insolence.”


Hearing the lady speak of her fear, the brows of both maia - who both actually missed the expressiveness of their bushy old man brows - lowered in displeasure. They exchanged a glance and Olórin said, “Fear not, my lady. We are here to release you all from this place and reunite you with your kin. And Lord Fëanor has calculated how to keep the ship sailing so the silmaril will remain in the heavens and your lord released from his bondage.”


Elwing had looked up in fear at hearing Fëanor’s name and seeing the one she supposed was Fëanor who was leaning against the wall, a small deprecating smile playing on his face and hand lifted from his crossed arms in a little wave, she said, “Thou seemest quite tame from the beast I imagined thee to be.” and lifting her brow she turned her gaze to Fingolfin asking, “And art thou kin to this one?” 


“I am!” Fingolfin said proudly, adding, “And he’s not such an orc once you get to know him. Why he once climbed a tall oak in our atar’s garden to fetch down a kite Ara and I caught in it and suffered many bee stings for his effort.”


Fëanor’s reaction was odd as he pushed himself from the wall and hissed, “You gave me your word you’d never tell anyone about that!”


“Why would you be upset with your brother sharing a story of your kindness, Fëanáro?” Aiwendil asked, confused.


“Oh, that’s not what he’s upset about.” Fingolfin said with a grin.


Fëanor slumped back against the wall with a hmph, refolding his arms and said, “Who wants the world to know you’re idiot enough to bother a beehive and suffer the brunt of their ire?!”


“Methinks thou wast an odd elfling.” Elwing said, bluntly. Eluréd and Elurín exchanged a glance and Eluréd said, “We’re going to have to reteach you all how to speak. You can’t go into public like this.”


Elurín nodded vigorously, adding, “Aye! Nobody will understand a word you’re saying!”


“More time hast passed than I bethought, hasn't it?” she answered sadly.


"Ummm, we'll talk about that later." her brother said, not sure how to tell her ten thousand years had passed.




Their plan was simple - sort of! Elwing would fly back and inform her husband they were below and to prepare for their arrival by clearing anything he wanted off the ship. They would first clear out the plants and brambles around the tower and would bring Idril and Tuor aboard. They’d worry about waking them later.


Then the maiar would bring Fëanor and Círdan up to the turret to board the ship and prepare it for launching. They planned this for the following evening, but warned that it might take longer if the first part took longer than they thought. 


This is when an exasperated Fingolfin intervened and said, “We can do two things at once, you know. Take my brother and Círdan up and follow Elwing when she returns. Begin the process of retrofitting the ship and by all means even sail on it this evening to test your calculations. You can make adjustments if you see there might be difficulties. The rest of us will clear out the plants after Aiwendil kills them.” and when he saw the nature maia’s scandalized face, said, “Don’t look at me like that! We need to do this! Look, we’ll plant a bunch of daisies to replace them if it means so much to you. Deal?”


Looking still uncomfortable with the willful destruction of living olvar - he’d thought to simply move them out of the way - Elladan snorted impatiently and said, “Oh come now, Aiwendil! You know King Thranduil would destroy whole swaths of growth to halt fires or to take the habitat away from the spiders. And you know how much he loves growing things.”


“Aye and we’ve seen his son, Legolas, do the same. His naneth is of the unbegotten and it really looked as though it caused him pain to do so, but he did it at need. Can you not do the same?” Elrohir added.


“Maybe you can promise them you’ll take their seedlings and replant them somewhere else? Surely that would please them.” Elladan suggested.


“Oh very well. I know what you say must be done, it just...feels wrong.” the maia said begrudgingly.


But Elwing caught something that interested her more than killing a bunch of misbegotten plants. “Wait! Thranduil lives? And Mirilla? Oh that be wondrous news! They'd hadst their first issue at the Havens of Sirion. But...his name wast not Legolas. I’m sure of it.”


“That’s right. Belegon is their first born. He fell at Dagorath along with Oropher. Legolas is their third child - they have four. Belegon, Lastaraen, Legolas and Reuel. And yes, Belegon and Oropher are back with us.” Elrond smiled.


“And that’s not all, sister. Our parents are back and living with our great grandparents in the Amani heartland. In a forest they call Fairinor.” Eluréd said.


“It’s near to where my daughter now lives - and that’s a very long story for another time, I think.” Elrond said.


“Oh aye! I might not but heareth all of it!” she exclaimed, adding, “But bid me who didst thee wed?”


“Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel’s daughter, Celebrian.” Elrond said, and then, “Another long story.”


"Truly I earnestly wisheth for the time we may sitteth and shareth tidings." she sighed.




Adar/ada - Father/dad (Sindarin)
Atar/atta - Father/dad (Quenya)
Naneth/nana/nan - Mother/mom (Sindarin)
Amil/ammë - Mother/mom (Quenya)
Daernaneth - Grandmother (Sindarin)
Unbegotten - 1st elves/Not born - created
Miruvórë - Aman restorative
Olvar - All Plant life
Ilman - Outer Atmosphere/Where stars are/ Space

~Launching Rescue Operation~


To prepare to disembark, the maiar cast a shield upon everyone on board so they could walk unaffected upon the island. They did this to all, even those few who wouldn’t technically be stepping foot on the island, rather they would be transported right to the turret. Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir would be going to retrieve Idril and Tuor and as blood kin the maiar were hoping blood would call to blood and they felt they would be the only ones able to accomplish this.


Elwing changed to her seabird form and shot up into the air and Olórin took Círdan and Fëanor and followed her to the tower peak. Aiwendil then disembarked and began ruthlessly clearing out the olvar from around the tower. Those remaining on the ship were quite impressed with his power and they were reminded that these might be lesser than the Valar, but they were Beings of immense power, nonetheless.


Then Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir walked up to the tower and linking hands, began to sing and all around them stopped what they were doing - enchanted. It was a song of longing, hope and family. It was a song they’d made for their lost Arwen and the hope of reunion when the world was remade. Made before they'd gotten her back. None of those listening could understand the depths of grief of those whose family members had chosen to sunder their fates from those of their kin forever.


And then luckily - miraculously - two faces appeared at the lone window at the base of the tower. It was Tuor and Idril, of course. And looking at them Aiwendil exclaimed, “The man has been changed! He has the life of the eldar!” and then, as though to himself, he muttered, “But why put them to sleep?”


But the Eärendilionnath didn’t care and making their way to the window, Elrond asked, “Is there a door?”


And at the confused look on their faces, Fingolfin stepped up and repeated the question in archaic Quenya, knowing this is what his people spoke when they first arrived in Beleriand ten thousand years ago. Their response was negative. They didn’t see a door and the window looked to be the only egress, so Aiwendil went and brought them to the outside where they both became agitated and he knew the field around the island was affecting them.


“I need to get them aboard the ship as I can’t shield them alone.” he said.


“Then do so! Our work is done here and we’ll take the yawl back to the ship!” Fingolfin exclaimed.


~Pearl Tower Suite~


When Elwing returned she found her husband distraught with her long absence, fearing some ill had befallen her. And when Olórin appeared with Círdan and Fëanor he was shocked and fearful. While his fear could be ascribed to the presence of the maia, the fact that his presence terrified the peredhel so much angered both ellyn greatly and it could be said that Olórin, himself, was angered by his reaction. These people shouldn’t fear his kind so much! And he could feel the mortal terror radiating off the Mariner.


Holding his wife close, Eärendil said, “Please, forgive us! I pray thee spare thy wrath though I know not how we erred.”


And before Olórin could say a word, Círdan said, “Peace, friend. We are here to liberate you both. Even now your grandchildren are rescuing your parents.” 


“Prithee, I understand not.” Eärendil said.


“Beloved, they be here to deliver us from this accursed place.” Elwing said.


“Nay, they cannot. Our bondage was the price to be paid for the deliverance of our people from the black foe.” Eärendil dismissed.


“Forget all that!” Olórin scowled. He really did miss his old man form. It was much more effective in displaying his displeasure and he briefly wondered if there was a way to get it back. He’d actually tried, but as it was an affectation given him by the Valar it’d been stripped away from him when he’d returned - and he had tried! He could affect his appearance in just about any way he chose - except as an elderly atani male! “We are here to kit your ship out so that it will fly by itself.” and when the confused expression didn’t leave the Mariner’s face, added. “Without you! And when we are sure it will keep its course we will remove you.”


“I would prefer to remove them now - after the test run, of course. And I see no reason why Elwing can’t be removed to the ship right now.” Círdan said.


“That is a fine idea. In fact, your parents have already been removed there…..and they are awake! Oh! That is jolly news!” Olórin exclaimed happily having been alerted by a message sent via Aiwendil.


“Prithee, I beseech thee. Might I not behold them with mine own eyes?” Eärendil begged.


Fëanor then stated flatly, “No! Think of it as an incentive. If we can get your ship on the correct trajectory tonight then you can see them in the morning.” and then looking at the stunned faces, added, “I want this done and to be off this Eru forsaken rock as soon as possible. I’m glad your parents have been liberated and the sooner we get this done the sooner we can reunite everybody and leave!”


“Fine. I will take Elwing down right now and return to help in any way I can.” Olórin said and held out his hand to Elwing, who exchanged a last tear-filled, but hopeful, glance with her husband and then disappeared with the maia.


“Right! Let us begin our work, shall we?” Fëanor said, adding, “Please take us to your ship, if you please. I need to see it and I need to know of its trajectory every night, how you launch it, steer it - if at all - and then we must affix the silmaril to the ship itself. If all goes well we will make the test run tonight and just abide as observers.” 


And Círdan grinned and said, “If nothing else, I’m going to enjoy sailing in the Ilman.”


And at this statement, Eärendil grinned and said, “Aye! Tis a wonder, my friend. Twill be goodly to have others share this wonder that must be experienced and may not be described.”


And then in growing horror, it occurred to Fëanor that he should have asked his brother for more of that awful ginger. What if he got airsick? Ilmen sick?




Tuor and Idril were rejoiced to see their daughter-in-honor, Elwing as she had been an orphan child in the Havens when they’d arrived. It was when they were twenty that Eärendil’s parents had sailed west ostensibly to beg for the aid of the Valar. They were never heard from again. 


Considering that Eärendil and Elwing were accepted as emissaries because they were both eldar and edain, it was odd that a married couple that were literally an eldar and an edain were deemed unacceptable. And there was little the couple could say about their experience other than they’d been driven ashore on this island that had some edible plants and water - at least enough for the two of them. And when they’d settled in to sleep aboard their ship they knew no more. Not until they heard the song calling to them.


“It seemeth to me but a short while ago when I beheld thee and knew thee to be held in the same prison as ourselves.” Elwing said tearfully.


“Be at peace, daughter. We knew it not. Twer but last eve ere we went to our rest and have just awoken.” Idril said gently.


“Though I’ll admit to a feeling of strangeness.” Tuor admitted and rubbing his face he noted his beard came away with each pass of his hand. And he was alarmed.


“That is because the life of the eldar is now granted to you. I’m afraid you are edain, no longer.” Fingolfin said, realizing this may not be the blessing to the man that most would think it was. For it meant a sundering from his kin. His people. And Fingolfin hoped having his wife, son and his son’s family with him would be enough to settle him in his new life.


“If I might be so bold, I’d like to make a suggestion.” Elrond began, “I’m afraid you’ve been gone for quite a while now and your speech is a bit….sundered from what is common today. If you will allow us, my sons and I can...fix that.”


“Prithee, lead the way.” Elwing smiled.


~Boarding Vingilótë~


When they followed Eärendil up through a hitherto hidden staircase and climbed aboard Vingilótë, Círdan had greeted it like an old friend, for it was he who had built the ship. It was the most beautiful ship he’d ever crafted and he’d felt inspired the moment he began designing of it. Constructed with white timbers of Birchwood, it had oars of gold, sails the color of silver and the most elegantly rendered swan-shaped prow ever carved.


Fëanor, on the other hand, got on board and held on as though they were out to sea and he had to steady himself. He really did hate ships. Oddly enough, he was fine on the skiffs that sailed on rivers and lakes. The river that had its source from the mountains of his realm was swift - wild - and yet he never suffered one uneasy moment. But there was something about the salty tang of the ocean that nauseated him. He didn’t understand how his brother, Ara, could stand it. 


And the couple times he’d been aboard ship with Fingolfin proved it was only he who suffered from this malady. But he couldn’t worry about that right now as Eärendil was directing what he wanted removed from the ship. Looking around, Fëanor decided a lot more could be removed than what the Mariner was directing them to. With a quick word to Olórin, he outlined his wishes to practically gut the ship. 


And much to his chagrin, Olórin grinned and said, “See now! This is why we came - just in case!” and with a low whistle Aiwendil appeared and the two conferred for a moment and then they both looked at Eärendil who suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “Don’t worry lad. Aiwendil was just explaining how your son and grandsons help to bring the speech of your wife and parents...up to date. And we’d like to do the same for you.” and the two converged on the panic-stricken Mariner and rewired him.


It only took a few moments while Fëanor and Círdan looked on appalled. And then the two went about their work and began just disappearing things. Helm, mast - they kept the sails, rope and booms - and pretty much gutted the ship leaving only the basic frame and bulkhead. 


Both Eärendil and Círdan looked heartbroken until the maiar explained that all the lumber and accoutrements were in the hold of Círdan’s ship and the two could rebuild their precious baby once they returned to Tol Kimbalaer. The maiar had also left some benches inside what was the hold of the ship and it was there that the maiar fastened the sails on each side using the booms as a frame, giving the white-timbered ship the appearance of having silver wings.


“There! These will act as sails to catch the solar winds that blow through the Ilmen.” Olórin said in satisfaction.


“How does wind blow through a place with no air?” Fëanor frowned, though he knew there was more to it than that. Obviously the Mariner could breathe as he sailed each evening.


“No, he’s right. Both Anar and Ithil are radiant lights and that produces energy and it’s that energy that fills the sails. I don’t pretend to know if that is what sets the ship on its course, for it launches and berths every night without any effort on my part.” the Mariner said and while he hadn’t noticed anything different, everybody else was relieved to hear him speaking in a modern dialect. But there was just one more thing that needed to be done.


“Lord Eärendil,” Fëanor began, and then thinking better of it, “Nephew - do you have the silmaril? It is time to affix it to the ship. It must be fastened in a way that it’ll never be separated from it again.” 


“Yes, uncle, I have it. Where do you wish it? Most of my ship is gone now.”


“Well, my brother and I thought it might look nice on the brow of the swan. What do you think?”


“Ha! I like that! Who came up with that idea?” Olórin asked with a grin.


“Ñolo did.” Fëanor smiled, “And I really like that idea. What do you think, nephew?”


Smiling for the first time since the whirlwind of their entrance into his world, Eärendil said, “It is a fine idea. And luckily, it’s about the only thing that’s been left untouched by your….activities.”


Then the time came that they'd been waiting for - the time the ship would launch. Well, almost all of them were looking forward to this moment. Fëanor was frankly terrified, fully expecting a miserable experience. 


As soon as Anar’s light breached the horizon and slowly disappeared, then the docking clamps that held the vessel released and the ship slowly began moving forward. Once it had cleared its docking, Eärendil warned everybody to hold on tightly and in a moment they were glad of the warning, for it shot into the aether with a blinding speed. Speed it needed to penetrate the Ilmen Wall and into that place where the stars were.


When they passed through the Wall they felt it ripple through every fiber of their being - Fëa and Hröar alike - and when the ship settled into its path it felt to those aboard as though they passed into another reality. Olórin and Aiwendil were delighted, for they could hear the Song of Creation clearly here. Indeed, they all could. A faint and hauntingly beautiful melody that wove around them, through them and embracing them as they, too, were part of the Song.


Fëanor and Círdan were enchanted and exchanged an astonished look and then met the knowing look of Eärendil who smiled gently in understanding. And Círdan looked pained for a moment and asked, “You’re going to miss this, aren’t you?”


“Yes. And no. Mostly no.” he smiled, “I’ve been doing this for a very long time and I miss living. I’ve been existing for a very long time and except for this, it’s been unbearable. Elwing and I have been near the edge of despair for what feels like forever and we weren’t even given the ability to fade and die. We’ve just been forced to...continue. And I’d really like to meet my son.”


“Don’t forget your parents and grandsons.” Círdan grinned, “I don’t know your parents very well. But I’ve known your son since he and Elros were just lads. And you’ll adore Elladan and Elrohir.”


“You may find yourself on a journey into the heart of Aman. Elwing’s parents are there and we have her brothers aboard ship and I’m sure your reunion will be a joyous one. If you can get them to stop talking to the birds, that is.” Fëanor said, and then, “Tell me. How is it that you cross the heavens and end up back at your tower when the star doesn’t return across the sky?” Fëanor was relaxed now, especially since no seasickness was afflicting him and a matter of curiosity just struck him.


“I don’t know. I just know I travel across the heavens and at the end of twelve hours the Tower is there to catch the ship in its docking clamps.” and shrugging, added, “I just figured it was by the machinations of the Valar. It’s the only thing that makes sense. For how else could such a thing occur?”


“If this goes as I hope it does, then at the end of the twelve hours nothing will happen and the ship will continue on its way. Then our just in case friends will take us to Círdan’s ship.” and turning to the maiar asked, “Have you been able to tell if the trajectory or position needs to be adjusted?”


“We have been discussing this very thing and it appears that your calculations were correct and the ship is happy with its new course.” Olórin said.


“And its Harmony has been added to the overall Music. Almost like the Music was waiting for just this moment. Can you not hear the difference in the Song?” Aiwendil smiled.


And indeed, the Harmony that swirled around them seemed to have added another dimension to its overall composition and this could only mean that the ship had been accepted into the Song and had always been meant to be placed here at this time and place to join its melody to the Great Music.


~Aboard the Kalaventë~


Those aboard the ship hadn’t expected to see their comrades until the next evening or even the morning after that for they knew they planned on completing the full circuit of the globe. But as it happened they all appeared around noon the next day and Eärendil was almost overcome by the joy of being upon the deck of a ship that bobbed upon the waves of the sea again. And he breathed deeply of the sea tang in the air which brought tears to his eyes. Fëanor, of course, was simply appalled! That anyone could love this foul air was quite beyond him and he frankly couldn’t wait until he was back in the cool, crisp, fresh air of his mountain realm!

Elwing ran to greet her husband with tear-filled eyes and the two held each other as though they hadn’t just shared ten thousand years of solitude together. They both felt reborn! And when Tuor and Idril went to embrace their son he clung to them and wept for joy, even more so when he beheld his now beardless father, the life of the eldar now within him. And he rejoiced in a parting he would now never have to face.


And then Elrond - a child when he’d left - was before him and he knew him. His son! And father and son embraced and Eärendil wept anew at this most heartfelt reunion and Elrond wept as well, swept away in bittersweet emotions. Partly in joy and partly in grief that his brother wasn’t here to share in this moment. There would be other introductions - Elwing's brothers and the sons of Elrond, but none were so sweet as this one moment between father and son.


Fëanor bore witness to to these reunion and was deeply touched. Especially witnessing a long lost son reuniting with his parents and a father with his son and he decided his queasy stomach was a paltry price to pay for this joy he had a part in facilitating - small though he counted that part. The maia, Olórin then stood beside him, being privy to his thoughts and said, “Humility becomes you, Son of Finwë. But know this - None of this could have been accomplished without you. We are all in your debt.”


“No! Please! Don’t say that!” Fëanor begged, “I know how important this is. I’m not blind and I can see how many people this sundering has affected and I’m truly happy to have played my part. But that’s all it was - a part! I couldn’t have done this alone. Truly, I wouldn’t even have known of this if Ñolo hadn’t shown up on my doorstep and practically dragged me out the door. If anyone deserves credit, it's my brother.”


Raising a brow, Olórin nodded his head, partially conceded the point, “You’re not wrong. Though I would argue that he knew who he had to drag along to get matters moving.” he smirked, adding, “Curious thing about your brother, don’t you think? Has he always displayed such uncanny perception?”


“Maybe? Probably? It would certainly explain why I felt so threatened by him when we were young. And lest we forget - he’s the only person in all of history who faced Morgoth alone - shaming him into meeting him alone in single combat.” then grinning added, “I would give anything to know what exactly he said to Old Bauglir to get him to slink out when he clearly didn’t want to!”


“Well, I can tell you it was quite…..creative!” the maia smirked, his eyes dancing. And then he offered his hand and Fëanor eagerly accepted. His eyes widened in astonishment at what he beheld and heard! Olórin only showed him what he asked for and the vision - and audio - ended as soon as Morgoth appeared. By the time the maia finished, Fëanor’s mouth was hanging open in shock. 


His shoulders shaking in silent laughter, the maia lifted his hand to gently close the ellon’s mouth. Fëanor’s shocked whisper of Sweet Eru! snapped him out of his own head at the sound of his voice and looked at the maia with wide eyes. “Thank you! That was….quite a surprise. Or it would have been had I witnessed and heard that back then. All Mandos showed me was pieces of the actual battle. Ñolo was quite impressive. I was frankly shocked at how many times he had the strength to block those blows when he wasn’t dodging them. Do you….how long did that battle actually take before...the end?”


“A little over three days. Seventy eight hours, to be precise.” the maia said. He wanted Fëanor to know how impressive Fingolfin's fight had been. Nobody had thought an ellon could last longer than a few moments and Olórin knew even certain members of the Valar had been quite impressed, as well. And not in a good way. Which also explained why Fingolfin hadn't been released until he forced the issue. Olórin was positive it was Mandos himself who had maneuvered events to have his own hand forced, so to speak.


“He kept that up for three days straight…..I find myself very glad he never decided to pound me into the ground. For I’m thinking it would have taken him but a few blows to undo me. He is a generous brother, indeed.”


“He has - and always will - love you.” Olórin said gently.


“I’m glad. I will have to find some way to make it up to him, for I find I love him too.” he said, and then, “That is not to say that I don’t find him a bit on the crazy side.”


“And yet, crazy seems to work well for him, does it not?” the former wizard grinned causing Fëanor to chuckle lightheartedly in response. “Indeed!”


Then Círdan and his Falathrim weighed anchor and set sail towards Tol Kimbalaer and when they were far enough away that the island and its tower while still plainly seen, they were now far enough away that they could all breathe a sigh of relief when they knew the field around the island no longer affected them. And it was then that a great CRACK was heard and the tower began to crumble in on itself and a great cloud of dust and debris arose to great heights. And as it came down the island also began to sink into the sea until it was no more and only a dissipating cloud of dust remained where it once stood. 


“Ha! I told you the Valar act only when their hands are forced.” Elurín grinned and swung an arm around Elrond.


“Yes, you did. You both did.” he said including Eluréd, who joined them. Then he sighed and said, “Really, though. Is it too much to ask that they do something without hand forcing?”


“Apparently.” the twins both chimed.



Several hours and two ginger roots later, the Finwion Brothers were bickering - again.


“You know I’m still angry that you broke your word to me. Not even about what it was about. But you broke your word, Ñolo.” Fëanor insisted, annoyed his brother didn’t think this a weighty matter.


“Oh get over it, Náro. And I call Rokkomuk. That was in a previous life. This is a new life and none of the old rules, promises or sins can follow us into this new life.” a thoroughly unrepentant Fingolfin said. And grinning, he added, “So I am unblemished.”


“You are irredeemably irrepressible, Ñolo.” Fëanor harrumphed.


“Náro! I think that is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Fingolfin said, truly touched and walked away whistling happily. And Fëanor was sure his brother was touched - in the head!


Tuor then joined him, saying speculatively, “You know, he is not at all as I pictured him. Nor how King Turgon spoke of him.” 


“I'd say he's going through a second childhood, except he was probably always like this and I just never knew him well enough to know this side of him.” Fëanor agreed with the unspoken statement of his brother’s quirkiness, “I’m afraid I denied him my love when we were children thinking to punish him for existing. But I think I only hurt myself. And now that we’ve been given a second chance, he does have my love and…..he treats me as a brother and I find it strange.”


“How so?” Tuor asked. As an only child and one who spent many years of his youth in slavery, he had no experience in brothers, sisters or family in general.


“Because of my pigheadedness, I isolated myself and I’m not used to having a brother. He on the other hand - is. He’s always had Ara and I’ve seen how my sons treat one another. I’m just not used to being treated as one, myself. But my hope is I become accustomed to it, for he is fun and lighthearted and I wish to know that feeling. If he is to teach me anything it’s my greatest hope that that’s what I’ll learn from him.”


“Well….in that case you seem to have chosen the perfect brother to learn from.” Tuor grinned and slapped him on the back and went back to rejoin his wife and kin. And Fëanor found he liked being treated with camaraderie - just like a normal person.




They were within sight of Tol Kimbalaer as evening fell and suddenly Elrohir pointed up and exclaimed, “Look! It’s there! Gil-Estel rises just as it always does!”


And those aboard cheered, slapping Eärendil, Círdan and Fëanor on their backs in congratulations, while Fëanor desperately tried to deflect credit to the maiar who hastened their work. The two shared a glance of amusement and Olórin spoke up, saying, “Accept their thanks, Finwion. You deserve it!” Aiwendil nodded vigorously in agreement and both smiled as the ellon relaxed and smilingly joined in the exultation that the Star of Hope was on the perfect trajectory and making its circuit across the heavens just as it had for the last ten thousand years.

And Fingolfin went to join the maiar and said, "Don't worry about him. I'll fix him." 

"I believe you will! And I also believe you'll find you now have a willing pupil." Olórin grinned.




Fëa - Soul
Hröar - Body
Olvar - Plants & Trees
Eldar - Elves
Edain - Mankind
Rokkomuk - Horseshit

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