[meme] The everyone survived AU

[goldenplaits]

Due to recent events in the movie world, it seemed like we needed one of these again...

THE ARDA AU MEME


{source}

All the AUs! With classics as the obligatory and all important

> EVERYONE LIVED AU. Maybe you're at Thorin's festive coronation or a drinking game between Boromir and Haldir after the end of the War, or Fëanor and Thingol finally talk to each other. Maybe Belladonna comes with her son on adventures, or Maedhros spends some very awkward hours at Elrond's wedding. U know the drill.
> but let's not forget the staple COFFEESHOP AU either
> or the no less important WHAT IF AU: What if the Silmarils were glowing bunnies? What if Bard hadn't managed to take down Smaug? What if Maeglin had not betrayed Gondolin, what if Galadriel had accepted the One Ring? What if Sam had a giant afro?
> and really any other AUs that you can think of.


As a note, since not everyone has seen BOFA yet and some people care about not being spoiled, please make a note in your top level comment/the subject line of a comment if you might bring up spoilers in threads or don't want to be spoiled, something like "bofa spoilers yes" or "bofa spoilers no".

Comments

Nerdanel

[sculptor_of_aman]

[Open to anything! Mother of seven daughters instead of sons? Only has one child? Has more than 7? Joins the rebellion? Keeps her kids at home? Bunny-Silmarils? Anything at all! Also available as a bitty, if you want!]

[lightcatcher]

[AU where Nerdanel visited them frequently in Formenos and they had another son that was born not too long before the Darkening.]

[It takes all his willpower to not clutch their youngest so tightly as to bring harm to him when he returns from the council - not to Formenos, but to Tirion, and he rarely has been so glad that Nerdanel uses every chance to take their sons to Tirion so they may see their friends and maternal grandparents at every option possible.

He has never been so out of sorts, as well, and the child in his arms (Nerdanel gave him to her husband before he left for the Valar's summoning, claiming that she had too much on her hand with the others to look after the baby, but nobody, including Fëanor, really thought that the reason was any other than the hope that it would soften her husband's temper a bit) is the only reason why his steps lead him back to the city. The boy will need food and shelter and care, and... and that is all that he can think of, while he cannot think of his feet or the way or anything else. He walks in a dream, almost, one dark and heavy and full of a darkness deeper than that surrounding them, his feet heavy and the little bundle against his chest seeming like the only thing of life and light in the entire world.

But his feet find their way to the house where Nerdanel and their other sons are staying, and he crosses the treshold and then just... stands there for a long moment, his light dimmed for the first time in his life.

His father is dead.]

[sculptor_of_aman]

[Nerdanel is quick to meet him there, seeing the shattered look in his eyes. For all that has passed between them, her love for her husband has never dimmed, and she greets him with an embrace, their eighth child carefully cradled between them.]

Fëanáro... I'm glad you made it. Darling, I... [But she has no words. Elven blood has never before been spilled. There is no precedent, no knowing how to comfort such a loss. She simply strokes his cheek in the familiar gesture he knows so well.]

...Can I get you anything?

[lightcatcher]

[He's not sure how to react, to her words or her gesture.

You have an infant in your arms, and it will need you pulsates dimly at the back of his mind, and the brush of his wife's fëa against his registers, but that is all - the thick fog that has wrapped around him more and more tightly since news of Finwë's death reached him is not lifting, and in the end he shakes his head, feeling too numb to want for anything.]

[sculptor_of_aman]

Come in and sit.

[She gently guides him to a sitting area. It's quiet, out of the way. They are unlikely to be disturbed. For a while, she just sits with him, mutually cuddling with the baby. If not for the heavy weight of shock and sorrow, it almost reminds her of when Maitimo was an infant, and how the then-tiny family would share sweet moments together like this.

After a while, she leans her head against him.]

...I'm so, so sorry, Fëanáro...

[lightcatcher]

I should not have followed their summons.

[It's the first that he speaks or significantly moves since he arrived at home, at least in a way that didn't prompt him to do.

I, not we - not because they might have gotten hurt as well, but because he can hardly think of anything right now, and when he does, his thoughts return to his father. Nerdanel and the baby's presence do much; they make him hold on to his surroundings at all. But there is only so much that can be done at the moment.]

[sculptor_of_aman]

No one could have predicted it, beloved. Such a horrible thing. I'm just glad you and the children are safe.

...we should do something in honor of his memory.

passive Fëanor is seriously weird to play and I have no icons

[lightcatcher]

Perhaps.

[And it speaks of his exhaustion that his brain doesn't jump at all the possibilities the moment this gets mentioned, but... doesn't do anything. The child in his arms start to cry and Fëanor, almost clumsily, he loosens his hold on the little boy and attempts to shove him into Nerdanel's arms - he doubts that he can take care of him at all right now. He couldn't while he was travelling to Tirion.]

I can imagine!

[sculptor_of_aman]

[Nerdanel is quick to take the child, cradling him to her breast, letting him nurse into contentment.]

...you need rest, my love. Rarely have I seen you so quiet. Sleep, perhaps, if reverie will not do. It worries me to see you so.

[lightcatcher]

[He simply nods, watching her and the child. Seeing them... He should do something, reach out, but he can't bring himself to do anything. Not even stand and move away. Now that he is here, in Nerdanel's presence, whatever kept him going has been drained (but so has the darkness upon his mind that made him consider following Finwë, or taking up the sword in his name, because... he doesn't have to move, not while she is there).

In the end, after maybe a minute or two, he slumps forward, his forehead touching her shoulder. Feeling connected, knowing that this connection is still there, grounds him just a little bit. Enough to remain.]

[sculptor_of_aman]

[She carefully leans over just a bit to kiss his raven hair.]

That's it. Stay with me. I love you so much.

[lightcatcher]

[He remains like this, and after a while falls into a deep, deep sleep, and doesn't wake for many days. And it doesn't take long for rumour to have it that he has departed - why, he is Miriel's son after all, at least Nerdanel has more than one child by now...]

[sculptor_of_aman]

[All the while, Nerdanel keeps a careful vigil. He sleeps deeply, but she knows he still has breath, his heart still beats. She does what she can to dispel the rumors, especially when her elder sons express their worry. She cares for the baby, letting him sleep with his father at every opportunity.

When Fëanor does wake, she is there, the baby cuddled up by his side.]

Fëanor? Beloved...?

[lightcatcher]

[He is deeply disoriented when he wakes, what his senses tell him of his surroundings so foreign to the darkness that his mind wandered while he slept (and it would have been so easy to not return; departure seemed easy and kinder, dispair and pain all dulled in death. And yet, despite his oldest bond having been severed so harshly and cruelly, he could not. His fëa is bound to others as well, and one of them he will not part with without a word from her regarding it. Because it has ever been that where his father was quiet and permissive, Nerdanel would challenge him; and it seems almost against nature to leave without granting her a word, if he will heed it or not). Weakness lies heavy in his bones, and sleep calls to him, get for now, he has not yet made up his mind to follow it, troubled as he might be.

For a long moment, he only lies there, grounded by her presence and the little life that lies at his side, one tiny hand cluthing a few strands of his hair. And the disorientation remains when he opens his eyes, though not to see - he knows that she is there even without that.]

There are things in Arda Marred which are beyond healing.

[sculptor_of_aman]

[She tenderly strokes his hair.]

I know, darling. Much can never be restored to what it once was. But we are still together. Still a family.

I'm glad you've come back. There was much worry over you. Especially from the boys.

[lightcatcher]

Seven of them are old enough to care for themselves; and the eight has them, and you.

[He doesn't move as the baby stirs next to him, the tiny hand pulling at his hair, fingers tangled in the dark strands.]

[sculptor_of_aman]

That does not mean they do not love their father. Would you leave their hearts as bereft as your own?

[lightcatcher]

[He falls quiet for a long time at this, and it almost seems as if he has fallen asleep again, his eyes locked umoving on the baby at his side, his body without motion.

But then he reaches out, over the child, and lays a hand on her arm, pulling her closer.]

[sculptor_of_aman]

[She nestles in beside him, and leans over to kiss him gently.]

I love you, Fëanáro.

[lightcatcher]

[He tilts his head to return the kiss, and though it is still very passive for him, everything about him strangely muted still, a tiny bit of his fire has returned into the touch. He makes sure that the child has enough space between them, but his hand does slide up her arm and down her side to rest at her waist. He's not going to break this connection of his own will. At least not now.]

[sculptor_of_aman]

[She senses that bit of fire, and it gives her hope. Maybe, just maybe, she can bring him back around, little by little. She lets the kiss linger for a long time.]

If everyone would be amenable... I do think we should all be together as a family. You. Me. All the boys. Together, supporting each other. What do you think?

[lightcatcher]

There are things to be done.

[There are - he will only have to reach for them and grasp them.]

[sculptor_of_aman]

There are, yes... Which ones would you have me do, my love?