fantasyfreak

*points* Annatar would be SO good at a heist!

Luthien as the shiny and lovely, 'look over here not behind the curtain' focus, while Finrod, Annatar, Beren and Celebrimbor (who was NOT getting left with Frodo and the horses thanks) slip in wrapped in shadows is a FANTASTIC idea.

And your absolutely correct, Morgoth wouldn't know anything about how incarnates with maiar blood work! Who does? Luthien is about it, I doubt even her parents know what all she can do.

With Annatar and Finrod also there, and VERY FREAKING MOTIVATED, Morgoth is OUT. Anyone and everyone in hearing range of their triad of Song is OUT. Possibly farther, given Annatar is very familiar with Angband and is, again, very motivated.

Celebrimbor doesn't join the Singing, he's their reserve. The three most powerful Singers are throwing their everything at Morgoth, someone's got to stay at full strength just in case.

But it goes WELL. And Morgoth doesn't wake even as Beren climbs the throne and hauls the entire crown off of his head, and down into the waiting arms of Celebrimbor, who slings the whole thing over his head and arm like a kid with a hula hoop.

Then, since Angband is as silent as a grave around them, Annatar initiates a SIDE QUEST.

And he and Celebrimbor go for where they keep the blasting powder.

Annatar stops for a moment and gently, regretfully, slits a sleeping Carcharoth's throat. Carcharoth was a monster, yes, but he was a monster Sauron gladly created, and Annatar will not leave his death to someone else's hands as long as he's there.

All the orcs within hearing are very dead. I'm- not sure if all the thralls within hearing would be too? I like to think Annatar could show/guide Luthien and Finrod into some more precision with their Song than they might ordinarily have, and only the slaves that were fully twisted into servants of Morgoth (aka the kind of thralls that Morgoth would free himself as traps to be sprung by caring people) or those just too wounded in body and soul to make it out (imagining that there's quite a few of those bc Angband is TERRIBLE and sliding into sleep and into the freedom of death a thing many there would WANT).

Annatar and Tyelpe free the living and leave the dead.

And then they start rolling barrels of blasting powder to the throne room, some of the newly released thralls helping probably. I imagine helping to blow up the place you've been enslaved and tormented in is actually fairly therapeutic. (None of the former thralls go into the throne room tho. I think none of them are in a mindset for that).

Annatar carefully directs everyone on where to place the barrels. He built Angband, he knows what corners will yield the most structural damage.

Beyond just breaking things for the sake of breaking things, there's a REASON he's making sure to shatter the place after they leave.

Morgoth was toweringly, VICIOUSLY FURIOUS at the theft of the ONE Silmaril. Annatar remembers. And this time, they're taking all three.

They all need to buy the rest of Beleriand as much time as POSSIBLE before he comes after the Silmarils. Because he will.

They've killed a chunk of his available army. They've blackened his eyes. This will slow him down, but not stop him. Because it's MORGOTH.

They're pretty fast all told, even with the injured, they're well away from Angband by the time there's a remarkably impressive explosion and at least half of Angband crumbles in on itself and the dark clouds above the destroyed fortress start boiling and the ground trembles with the sheer force of Morgoths rage.

They pick up the pace a bit. (And wrap each of the Silmarils in cloth, no need to make any more of a target on their backs.)

While all this was happening, please imagine Frodo and Idrahil waiting awkwardly with the dozen and a half horses they scrounged up (Did they steal them from Sauron? Did Luthien and Annatar and Finrod summon them like Disney princesses? IDK).

Frodo is a bit miffed at being left behind, but he's practical. He knows he's too new in this body to help, and too awkward in his scavenged boots to be able to run (I am absolutely picturing him walking as awkwardly as a dog in snow booties. You KNOW the walk I'm talking about). He can't feel the GROUND, it's WEIRD.

And this is when Curufin and Celegorm catch up.

They have been several days behind Celebrimbor since the start (again, blurring the distances a bit. They're elves from Valinor, we'll assume they can boost their travel time with Song as long as it's just them and their horses and not a whole party?) but with the Quest Party taking time to craft a decent plan, scrounge up enough horses and all, they had time to close the distance some.

Anyway, they focus immediately on Idrahil, and are probably kind of nasty about demanding to know where the hell Celebrimbor is.

Celeg: and Huan!

Curufin: would you SHUT UP about the DAMN DOG?!?!

Because Celeg has, in true annoying sibling fashion, NOT shut up about how offended he is that Huan let himself be dognapped.

Frodo, having known both of these elves for a while, unthinkingly breaks in to the interrogation.

Frodo: I BEG your pardon. Is that how you were raised, to just walk into a clearing and start yelling? What would your mother say!

Curufin and Celegorm probably kind of- freeze? Because I don't think that kind of reproachful tone is one they've heard directed at them innnn, hmm, well, since they left Valinor actually?

And Frodo is in a body that was created out of Celebrimbor. And Annatar. And possibly also a bit of Finrod too tbh (because why not?). Point being, *slaps down money* whatcha wanna bet he sounds an awful lot like Feanor and/or Finwe vocally now? Same scolding tone and EVERYTHING.

So, Idrahil is FORGOTTEN, and both raggedy sons of Feanor turn to the elf they'd noted but otherwise dismissed.

And that is VERY much Finwe's nose. And those eyebrows and cheekbones. And the twisting disapproval on those lips is a CARBON COPY of Nerdanel's 'you have disappointed me' frown. The hair isn't recognizable, it's red but not Mahtanian red, but the HAIR CLIP IS.

*flash back to day one of Silmaril Heist planning*

Frodo: *shoving annoyingly long magma red curls out of his face for the umpteenth time* >:(

Celebrimbor: here, let me? *gestures*

Frodo: ... Alright.

Celebrimbor: *quickly travel braids Frodo's hair and clips it with one of his own hair clips*

XDDD

Anyway, instant assumptions are made. Frodo denies EVERYTHING. This, in the face of, well, his new face, doesn't work at all.

The awkward wait is suddenly SO much more awkward. RIP Idrahil, you do not deserve this awkward tableau.

Thank ERU that the ground rumbles a few hours later, and the next morning in the pre-dawn light several hundred freed thralls crest a hill lead by our intrepid heroes!

Celebrimbor is Singing strength and speed and endurance! He was the reserve, remember? And give the way the other three were able to share the burden of singing Morgoth to sleep, they're helping too, in shifts. And hopefully they've got another few days to get more distance between them and Angband before Morgoth can muster any party to go after them.

Celebrimbor: *relieved to see Frodo in the distance* *squinting* *mentally so he doesn't have to stop Singing* wait... is that my FATHER???

Annatar: *scowls at the unmistakable sight* oh WONDERFUL.

Finrod: *makes a face* well, you DID take Huan. You know how Celeg is about Huan. And how your father is about YOU. Did you even leave a note?

Huan: *rumbling doggy sneeze-scoff*

Celebrimbor: *incredulous osanwe* a NOTE?!?! Exactly what was I supposed to say? 'dear ada, gone to help Beren steal a Silmaril, I'll be fine, no need to chase after?'

Luthien: Are they really that bad?

The irony is not lost on the three time travelers, and Celebrimbor has to wrestle down the urge to break into slightly hysterical laughter and interrupt his Song before they reach the little camp.

So, nothing for it, everyone files into the little area between giant strewn boulders that Idrahil and Frodo have made into a camp. It gets VERY crowded very fast.

Idrahil is VERY relieved and immediately goes to Finrod to report.

He's a bit thrown by the large crowd of ragged Elves and Edain and even a few Dwarves, but he's gonna roll with it. (Picture the other nine of Finrod's followers in among the former thralls, each helping along someone who needed some support, maybe carrying a kid or a baby or two, because of course there were children in Angband *makes a face*)

Idrahil, hopefully: Did it go well, my lord?

Finrod: Oh Very! Celebrimbor has them!

He tips his head at the iron ring slung around Celebrimbor's head and arm. A large iron ring with three conspicuous cloth wrapped spires laying down his back.

Idrahil glances over to the elf lord slowly making his way through the milling crowd towards his father and uncle, Huan trotting behind him, and Annatar trailing after with a mildly aggrieved expression on his face.

Idrahil: Wait- ALL OF THEM?!?!?

Finrod beams like a child that stole an entire cookie jar.

_

Celebrimbor, for his part, hands over maintaining a hum of Song to a rested Luthien, rolls his shoulders back and heads for his father. Better get this over with. :/

Frodo is near by, sitting on a smaller oblong boulder. Annatar breaks off and drops down beside him, brushing shoulders.

Frodo: It went well then?

Annatar: Mmmm, better than we'd hoped. You?

Frodo: *makes a face* Curufin and Celegorm showed up the evening after you left. They're CERTAIN I'm related to them SOMEHOW. And now with you back it'll only be a little while before the make the same assumptions everyone ELSE is making in regards to you, Celebrimbor, and me. They keep asking me where I got my hair clip.

Annatar: *grumbling sigh* Oh they've definitly made assumptions about you and Celebrimbor already *grumbling stomach*

Frodo: Hah *small smile*

Frodo passes Annatar a square of waybread. He makes a face, less over the task of eating now, more for what are clearly weevil bore holes through out the little square. He nibbles on it.

Before them, Celebrimbor comes to a stop in front of Curufin, who immediately dives into furious questions, covering his terror at the thought of his child in Angband with his usual bluster and fury. It might have hurt Celebrimbor once, having accusations of treason of family flung in his face, but he knows his father better now, they'd talked enough in Aman.

Curufin: What were you THINKING, you KNOW what Morgoth is capable of-

Celebrimbor, interrupting: Ada. Ada, I am FINE. I am HERE. We are all- well perhaps not SAFE, but safER and whole.

He hesitates for a moment. Then-

Celebrimbor: We did it.

He spins the crown he's wearing across his chest around until the wrapped silmarils are arrayed on his collar bone, stomach, and hip, roughly.

There's a moment of blankness on Curufin's face, as the words hit. Celebrimbor can SEE the slow dawn of the meaning hit his father like the sun rising, a wild and vicious hope blooming to life.

Curufin: That's. Those are. Tyelpe, what did you DO?!?!

Celebrimbor: I'll explain. WE will explain. I promise. But we need to get as far away from Angband before we do, alright? We're too close.

Curufin probably thinks about arguing, but- Angband IS RIGHT THERE. They need to get the Silmarils (Eru beyond, silmarils silmarils SILMARILS ALL OF THEM) as far away as the can. As well as several hundred thin and injured people. So instead of demanding to lay hands on his father's creations Right This Second he-

Curufin: *nodding sharply* Right. An hours rest, and then to Himring?

Celebrimbor having expected an argument, blinks in surprise.

Celebrimbor: I- it's far... I thought perhaps Gondolin?

Curufin: *sniffs* Only if you know where Turgon build the damn place!

Celebrimbor: Ah well-

Curufin: ?!?!?!

lols, sorry Curufin today, and probably the next YEAR are gonna be a series of rolling shocks!

It took me a while to decide where they should go after they break Angband and go for cover, actually. Gondolin is technically closer, but it's a closed environment, and full of many MANY people who don't like Feanorians. Also, Annatar has yet to confront any of the fuckery that went down with Gondolin in The Harrowing (not unexpected, there's SO MANY regretful and terrible things he was responsible for and he's been alive for less than two weeks. I assume that you'll get to it!), and I don't want to make up things that won't fit!

So I decided to go with the next closest military outpost is Himring. It's not going to be easy to get there, but more than one of their group knows ways through the area.

Beren for instance, since they're gonna need to go through the edges of Dorthonion! Bet he knows all SORTS of goat trails through the mountains thereabouts.

Annatar's got knowledge of enemy encampments that will still be reasonably accurate, and they've got four strong Singers, maybe six depending on how much Curufin and Celegorm can be convinced to help (which will be a LOT, once they know the whole story. Also, SILMARILS! and FAMILY! They're speaking of Celebrimbor and Frodo of course, not Finrod. They're still dicks after all).

It's gonna be a hard, fast paced slog through dangerous territory with a LOT of walking wounded, but they'll manage.

Also, there's a kind of tacit agreement among everyone that the Silmarils should go to Maedhros first. Even Beren and Luthien don't disagree (they want some time to think, now that they have accomplished what Thingol demanded, and contemplate what Annatar said about the whole thing).

Okay, the next bit. Side bit. That's happening while Celebrimbor is speaking with his father.

Annatar and Frodo are not actually paying much attention to that, because THEIR attention is focused on watching the (to them) one sided conversation happening between Celegorm and Huan.

It starts like this;

Huan ambles over to Celegorm and plonks his butt down in front of Celegorm, eye to eye. Celegorm glowers.

Celegorm: Don't give me that look, traitor. I can't BELIEVE you ran off with Tyelpe! How could you let him within a MILE of that place! *stabs a finger towards Angband* And joining up with THEM! *stabs a finger at Beren and Luthien*

Huan: *unimpressed sneeze*

Celegorm: I can't BELIEVE you went hunting with OTHER PEOPLE. We're supposed to be a TEAM!

Huan: *shifts his eyebrows and boofs lowly*

Celegorm: *gasps* I CARED! I CARE! I can't believe- we were trying to keep Finrod from getting everyone KILLED not-

Huan: *rumbles deep in his chest and lays back his eats a little*

Celegorm: ... Okay, yeah, maybe some of it was spite. But that doesn't mean-

Huan: *another sneeze, a louder boof, a low whine*

Celegorm: Oh. I didn't know you felt like that. I- haven't been listening to you as much anymore, have I?

Huan: *ears shift forward, tale wags a little, kicking up a bit of dust*

Celegorm: *reaches out with both hands to cradle Huan's head and rub at his ear pockets* I'm sorry. I should have-

His voice drops too low for his peanut gallery of two to catch the rest.

Frodo: .... I possibly didn't give the historical relationship between them the correct context.

Annatar: *flicks a weevil out of his waybread cracker* Mmmhmm, it does seem much deeper than any of the historical texts said, doesn't it?

Frodo: It reminds me when Daisy Wicker from two lanes down walked out of her and Corriham's smial one day and moved back in with her mum and da. I swear Corriham said nearly the same thing when he went to beg her back.

Annatar: *snickers*

XD

They obviously make it through the mountains. Frodo gets better at moving in an Elven body. It's wearing away at the mental shelf though tbh, but they're still very much NOWHERE safe for a breakdown, so Frodo soldiers on. He does have experience soldiering on through treacherous mountains and enemy territory after all. It's all very nostalgic. In an awful sort of way. Yaaaay PTSD, ammirite?

Through the Magic of having 4 strong singers, and 15 very capable warriors, plus however many of the former thralls that are strong enough to fight, and Beren knowing some nice short cuts, they probably even make good time! (i am not even gonna GUESS how long it would take to get through those mountains tho. idk.)

Through their journey, Angband continues to storm and smoke and tremble.

Celegorm: *sarcasm* So, how long d'you think it'll be til Morgoth manages to send a dragon or two after us?

Annatar: Oh a 1000 years or so, I expect.

Everyone in earshot: *eyeing Annatar* ???????

Annatar: There was a REASON we piled a great deal of the blasting powder along the walls of the throne room, and the halls around it. It wasn't ALL to bury Morgoth. The incubation chambers, and the sleeping den of the dragons was directly below it. :3

Finrod: :D

Celebrimbor: *heart eyes*

Celegorm: *cackles*

Curufin: *very very grudgingly* Alright maybe you aren't the worst.

Annatar: The eggs were certainly destroyed. And if not all, then MOST of the dragons should've been killed or maimed enough they won't be able to follow. Morgoth and Sauron- *regretful disdainful twist of his lips* will have to likely start over completely if they want dragons again. And breeding giant, firebreathing, intelligent creatures up from base stock like lizards takes time even for a vala.

(I am ABSOLUTELY picturing Curufin and Celegorm and Finrod and Celebrimbor recognizing some of the freed thralls as they journey btw. Beren might too, if any of the captives drug from Dorthonion survived long enough. And surely there are people from Doriath too. Luthien wasn't expecting that.)

They cross into Maedhros's territory fairly soon.

Everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE took note of something stirring up Angband. All the lands of free peoples are flailing with NOT KNOWING WHATS GOING ON.

There's been SOME information out of Nargothrond. They (Fingon and Maedhros) know that Finrod left with Beren, and about Celegorm and Curufin's successful coup, and then Celebrimbor vanishing in the night with Huan, and Curufin and Celegorm tearing after them, but that's it.

And given *gestures at the Doom and Beleriand in general* all THAT, they've assumed the worst. Hard NOT to right?

So Maedhros has arrayed an army not too far in from the border that faces Angband.

Fingon sent all the extra people to Himring that he could, knowing that whatever is going on Himring would likely be hit first. Then he stewed bc he couldn't justify going himself.

They are prepared as much as they can for whatever horrors are crawling forth from Angband.

They've been getting bands of orcs here and there, but no explanations.

And then scouts finally bring Maedhros word that something strange has crossed the pass of Aglon into the foothills.

Maedhros the Ever Tired: Well, what is it?

Scout: We're not sure my Lord! There's powerful Song in it, surrounding it in mist and shadow, and we could not see past the effect. Only that it's large. It's here now *points to a spot on the map* We're keeping a distance as you ordered.

Maedhros: Right. *mutters* Of course we can't tell. Why would any of this be easy?

And on the move they go! Maedhros and Maglor take a contingent of a few hundred soldiers and head for the spot.

The scout spoke truly. Slowly rolling into the hills is a vast thick mist, with shadows flickering within. Whatever it is, it rolls to an abrupt halt when Maedhros and Maglor crest a hill above it, and writhes for a moment.

And then before either can draw breath to shout a warning and question the shadows fade, and the mist begins to burn away. Everyone readies weapons.

Maglor: Wait *squinting* Are those- people?

Maedhros: Is that-

Maglor: Of all the- *shouting* FINROD!!! IS THAT YOU?!?!?

Whatever they were expecting, it was NOT Finrod Felagund walking ahead of a VERY motley group with a nis Maedhros would guess was Luthien Tinuviel, and someone he has no idea of with a shock of the brightest red hair he's ever seen. And his nephew. He is SO relieved Celebrimbor is alive. (He's smart, he read between the lines in Orodreth's letter and could extrapolate Celebrimbor and Huan likely went).

There has been SUCH an under current of 'we have Morgoth's ENTIRE crown and we just dropped a MOUNTAIN on his HEAD and the pretty redhead killed all his favorite pets' throughout the entire group of intrepid (winging it) heroes and escaped thralls. Who also don't know Annatar was Sauron yet. Like Team Time Travel isn't hiding it precisely, they're just not mentioning it! And neither are Finrod's ten. It's too weird and they're too deep in enemy territory to deal with any freak outs, okay?

Even with resting and alternating Singers everyone is pretty hecking tired. Maedhros and Maglor are weak in the knees relieved to see them, but the feeling is mutual. If those two are up on the ridge, that means these are the foothills that surround Himring and they're all that much safer.

(Curufin and Celegorm are staying at the back of the line, because thats too many characters to juggle, also they are hiding. Not that they would admit that, but. Yeah. Maedhros is gonna be MA-AD and they're waiting to see if 'yay silmarils!' softens that ass-kicking they're gonna get)

Maedhros is a paranoid bastard though (fond) and of course he insists on riding down alone briefly, just to make sure this isn't some incredibly convoluted trap.

Which, yeah, not a surprise to any of the little vanguard. They know him after all, even if he doesn't know all of them! (I'm sure Luthien has heard enough not to be surprised).

Finrod takes a few steps ahead of the rest. He meets with Maedhros first, with Mae leaning down and speaking softly with him for a few tense moments (There are ARCHERS positioned in the hills above them. Annatar's itchy neck and full knowledge of Maedhros as a friend and ally and once enemy says so) before he abruptly sits up and makes to dismount, waving his handless arm in a circular motion that has Maglor whooping joyfully and sending his own horse clattering down the steep incline.

Finrod waves the others forward. Maedhros is busy grilling Finrod as they approach.

Maedhros: -appened, we got a letter out of Nargothrond. Orodreth was cagey but- my idiot brothers, is it true they-

Finrod: Oh YES. And it very nearly got me eaten, yes. *huff of sardonic laughter* I won't object to seeing you tear them to bits over that honestly, but later. We have other problems.

Maedhros: *mouth a thin pressed line* Orodreth danced around why you would walk to your doom with a handful of loyal retainers and an edain, but someone else slipped in a note with the missive. I-

Maglor: *thundering up, kicking up dust, and butting in* A SILMARIL INGOLDO?!?!! ARE YOU ENTIRELY INSANE! Even at your strongest! Even with the bloody PRINCESS of DORIATH- pardon me, my lady, no offense meant *dips his chin to Luthien*

Luthien: *bemused* None taken?

Maglor: *swinging down off his horse to drag Finrod into a bone crushing hug* THAT YOU GOT OUT WITH YOUR LIVES IS AN ERU GIVEN MIRACLE.

Annatar: *mutters to Celebrimbor* as good a guess as any. *Celebrimbor stifles a slightly hysterical giggle*

Maedhros: *grimly* Well it's plain to see you got in at least. Couldn't get to the silmarils so you took his slaves instead? I don't think your father will think the substitution of equal value, Princess Luthien.

Luthien: *looks over towards Annatar and Celebrimbor a question in the angle of her eyebrows and ears*

Celebrimbor: *grinning at his uncles brightly and drumming his fingertips along the wide band of iron he is STILL wearing across himself* About that.

And Maedhros KNOWS THAT BAND OF IRON.

Morgoth never took it off. Maedhros could draw it's likeness with his eyes closed, it's been seared into his memory (literally even, given the way the scent of his own flesh burning accompanied the memories just as much as the searing brightness of the silmarils does).

He just stares, eyes wide, hand that had been laying on his saddle in easy view suddenly gripping the leather so hard it's creaking. (maedhros.exe has stopped working please turn device off and on again and retry)

Maglor doesn't have his brothers familiarity with Morgoth's crown that Maedhros does. But he's from a family that prides itself on quick deductions.

Maglor: Thats-

Maglor Feanorion is at a complete loss for words. He's just staring at the three cloth wrapped bundles laying along Celebrimbor's torso.

Maedhros: *the slightest waiver in his voice* The. The note we received said One-

Finrod: *gently* Well, we were there, and he was VERY unconscious. In for one, in for three, cousin.

Celebrimbor: And then we got into the blasting powder and made sure there wouldn't be any kind of pursuit any time soon. But we all hurried all the same.

Luthien: *hmmming thoughtfully* This has Changed Things. *her words carry a bit of reverb* Rather a lot, i think. But here isn't the place for speaking about it I don't think?

Annatar: She's right. We need to keep moving. Himring?

Maedhros: *snapping out of the shock* What? Ah. Ye-es.

Maglor: *squinting* I'm sorry, but WHO are you? We know Finrod and Tyelpe, and Luthien can't be anyone but herself, but I don't recall any great Singers of elven kind with YOUR particular description.

Celebrimbor: *cutting in before Annatar can speak* This is Annatar. I know him. Finrod knows him. He means well and has out complete trust and confidence. *meets his uncles eyes directly* I'll even swear an Oath on it, if you'd like.

Maglor: *sharp piercing negative sound (the kind you make when your dog is lunging for a bit of not safe for pets food you dropped)* TYELPE I will wash your mouth out with soap-!

After a bit more talking to hash out logistics, the train starts moving again (Curufin was the one maintaining the strength that is keeping everyone on their feet this time. They can't afford to let it lapse now, bc once it does it's NOT going to be possible to get it going again without weeks of rest. I'm picturing something akin to a continuous round song? Like Row Your Boat only SO much more complicated and magical)

Frodo stayed out of sight. He's not quite got the same knack for it he once did, as a hobbit, but he's good enough that as long as he keeps his new signal flare hair up and covered, he just looks like another grubby travel worn body in the mass. He'll deal with seeing Maedhros and Maglor once they get to where they can stop.

(*shelf starts creaking ominously*)

You are ABSOLUTELY correct that Frodo is hanging onto NOT breaking down with his fingernails at this point.

He can't break down until they're safe he can't he can't he can't-

So of course, being FRODO and made of stuff that made Sauron hit a brick wall, he manages!

They get to Himring! Maedhros sent word on ahead, not about the silmarils of course, but about Finrod and a throng of escaped thralls he vouched for.

There's a lot of running around as Maedhros barks orders at various people and runners bolt off in various directions. The keep healers are there, and quick pavilions have been set up in the main hall, spare clothing is being doled out, and soap, and the people are being directed at tents with as much warm water as could be brought heated as to not be freezing, and food is being dished out on tables that had been pushed to the far side of the hall.

It's easy for Frodo to fade into the back of the clamoring group, dip around where Curufin and Celegorm are scanning the crowd- and into a doorway that Frodo thinks probably leads to- ah yes, stairs.

He's up on the battlements peering down at the milling crowd still in the courtyard a few moments later. Annatar will know where he is. This way he's out from under foot, the injured can be seen to without him being a distraction the minute someone sees him with Annatar and Celebrimbor there for comparison. He slides down the wall, ignoring the rough texture and hugs his knees.

And- well he's just kind of numb, and not just from the evening breeze starting to nip colder on his cheeks.

He examines his hands, the fingers longer and thinner than he's used to, but proportionally, well matched to the rest of him. He should be able to do calligraphy like he used to, right? (AN: WAIT, heck, would Frodo be missing his finger? would that be like Maedhros keeping the scars he did? I HAVE NO IDEA)

It will take some practice is all.

He'd wondered sometimes, especially after Annatar came back into life, what it might be like to be an elf. If it would feel very much different than being a hobbit.

It does and it doesn't. This body is his. He breathes and functions and LIVES in it, not seamlessly, but certainly with less trouble than Annatar had at first. Benefits from going from mortal flesh to mortal flesh he supposes. There is a difference, not one he thinks he can fully put into words yet, but it's not just in the odd length of him now, and how easy it is to over reach or step. It's something in his bones (and something in his soul).

The breeze pulls a curl of red out of his braids. He quickly tucks it out of sight behind an ear but it's too late, he's been reminded.

The hair. And the new face. And the assumptions people made, that- well, might not be accurate at all, but were also not inaccurate if what Annatar thought might've happened, had happened.

It wasn't even a terrible family to be a part of really, though he knew many who might fervently disagree. He liked the Feanorions. The rest of the Finweans too. And well, he's already been closer than blood to Annatar, in a way. But-

There are footsteps on stone. Frodo glances at the doorway beside him.

Finrod peers down at him, two deep wooden plates in his hands.

Frodo: Food?

Finrod: mmhmm, the keeps cooks had massive pots going already, from Maedhros sending word on ahead. I grabbed some before it was all doled out. Annatar mentioned where he thought you must be. Some kind of chicken stew I think, with dumplings?

He hands it down and falls into a graceful crosslegged seat across from Frodo

Frodo: *wane smile* It's easy, and you can feed several hundred surprise guests quickly and well.

He sniffs the stew. It smells good. Nearly identical to the kind Bilbo would make on cold winter days as far as he can tell, except there's no potatoes. Actually, he's somewhat sure potatoes don't exist quite yet? Or, not in Beleriand at least?

Oh.

He- he's not going to see Bilbo again is he? Or Sam, or Merry, or Pippin, or Aragorn... This, this is the First Age. He's sitting on a battlement in Himring, in sunken Beleriand, and he's an elf.

He takes a bite of the food, distract, distract- and oh boy, that was the wrong thing to do.

I dunno about YOU all, but I figure as much as food is a sense memory to humans, it's got to be extra so to hobbits. And to steal blatantly from Doctor Who here, Frodo has a new mouth.

He could ignore it when it was weevil-y way bread stolen from orc supply caches and unseasoned game caught on the move and cooked fast, but this is a chicken stew with dumplings, vegetables he knows, and spices that smell familiar even, and it tastes so different. It's not bad. It's good even! But it's different. And that's the last straw.

Yeah. THIS would be when it all hits.

Finrod was waiting. He was pretty sure it was gonna be SOON, and so was Annatar when he told him where Frodo was.

Finrod catches the plate before Frodo can drop it and sets it aside with his own.

Frodo: *crying* It- it's- i can't- It's stupid, it's just stew wh-y am i c-

Also, oh man. Even though I've been in my guilt about this for a while--it's so cool to go back and enjoy it with fresh eyes, this whole thing is so awesome, I love it so much.

Should Maedhros, famous victim of an ambush, be going out alone to meet the possible problem? Absolutely not. Is this totally in character? Absolutely. Also, Maedhros is having the Most Day of All Time.

Losing my mind laughing (again) (repeatedly in fact) at Celebrimbor being like "I will swear an oath", in front of THIS FAMILY, probably knowing FULL WELL that the answer will be a frantic NO.

But most importantly!!! Aaaaaaa Frodo my beloved

He gets hugs! He gets to cry about it! This is so hard and weird and scary!

YES, I am SO GLAD the way Frodo is NOT having a great or easy time came across! I’d hoped that would work! It can be hard, when your body changes and suddenly you’re not capable of the same stuff you were. I was trying to convey that kind of dysphoria.

Maedhros! Maedhros is HAVING A DAY. A good day! A MIRACULOUSLY GOOD DAY.

The kind of good day he can barely trust is REAL bc, lbr, he hasn’t really had a good day innnn. Um. Lets just say a long time. So this is the kind of day that has him covertly running mental checks just to make sure this is still reality. He keeps counting Maglor’s freckles and running his finger tips over his horse and her tack, and the tooling on his belt and faulds just to check that the things he’s seeing, and sensations he feels match up right.

He can at least throw himself into logistics a bit here, first in chivying all the escaped thralls our Intrepid (and exhausted) Heroes have been herding to safety in Himring.

Then he corrals Celegorm and Curufin. (This ended up mostly dialogue!)

Maedhros: *stares pointedly*

C&C: Err.

Maedhros: *calm and measured* I have heard what you’ve been up to in Nargothrond, brothers. Rest assured, I WILL be taking that out of your hides later. For now though *points at the crowd of people filling the hall behind them* Exactly WHAT happened to do THAT?

Curufin: Honestly we don’t KNOW, Nelyo!

Celegorm: When we caught up to them, Finrod, Beren, Luthien, Huan, Tyelpe and that Annatar ner were already gone off to Angband, leaving Finrod’s steward and Frodo to hold the camp.

Maedhros: *blinks* Frodo? Who? And what kind of a name is that? (Note: Frodo is WESTRON it’s gotta sound SO WEIRD to the elves tbh. He’s definitely gonna get slapped with a proper elven name at some point here. Elves gotta give people extra names after all especially in the first age)

C&C: *baffled kind of shrugs*

Curufin: *glowers* The boy is SOMEWHERE in the crowd. He’s remarkably cagey for a boy who can’t be more than 80, and I haven’t been able to corner Tyelpe about him yet, but he rather looks REMARKABLY like that Annatar. And Mother. And Grandfather. (Note: Frodo probably doesn’t look quite like a teenager really, but he’s so coltish in his new body, that’s coming across as youth to the elves that see him)

Maedhros blinks at that. Well. He never thought Tyelpe the sort, but, well, Curufin had been a bit smothering since they’d come to Beleriand. He’s thought Tyelpe was weathering it with more grace and patience than was usually found in their line, but maybe he’d just decided to go around his father? He wouldn’t be the first in the family for that. (Note: yesss Mae, make some logical conclusions with the info you have! Compare him to you and Finno a bit! You’re VERY wrong but it’s still a good guess!)

Celegorm: He’s got one of Tyelpe’s hairclips. One of the ones father made.

Maedhros: *eyebrows* Interesting. But, at this moment, irrelevant. We can sort that out later. What else can you tell me?

Celegorm: A few hours after we got there, the whole ground heaved like a shaken table cloth. Then some hours after that, Tyelpe and everyone came out of the night leading that lot *waves a hand a the hall* Tyelpe had the silmarils.

Curufin: There wasn’t really TIME to stop and ask questions. We regrouped and lit out for Himring. Luthien is TERRIFYING by the way. She provided the bulk of the power, her and that Annatar. We pitched in too but them, us, Finrod, and Tyelpe have been cycling songs of power for- *blinks* How long has it been since Angband shook, Nelyo?

Maedhros: thirteen days and nights.

Curufin: *sputters*

Celegorm: Huh. No wonder I want to sleep for a week. I haven’t done a march like that since I was with The Hunt. *waves* Anyway, we talked to a few of the thralls, and from what few who were in the throne room said, Luthien walked in all lovely and enchanting, and sang with three voices. It put Morgoth out like a fussy toddler. And then the wolves and the orcs, and even the balrogs, everything evil, dropped where they stood as well. The orcs were dead. No one checked the balrogs. Then Luthien’s man climbed the throne and took the crown and passed it down to Tyelpe. Then he and Annatar left and came back with BLASTING powder and lined the place while Morgoth slept.

Maedhros: *wheezing incredulous laugh*

Curufin: Annatar said the dragons were UNDER the throne room Nelyo. All the eggs, all the breeding stock.

Maedhros: *squints* *head tilt* wait. *slow blink* How would he KNOW that? I didn’t know that, and I know Angband as well as any former thrall.

C&C: *exchanged uneasy glances*

Curufin: We’re not sure. Finrod and Tyelpe trust him though. And, there’s Frodo. *vague hand wave* We heard some snatches of conversation, but nothing that makes much sense.

Maedhros: Right. Where’s Maglor? Nevermind, I saw him with Luthien, I’ll get them, and find Finrod. You round up Tyelpe and this Annatar fellow, and bring them up to my study. See if you can find the Frodo lad you mentioned.

Maedhros needs to corral all the important people ASAP and GET SOME ANSWERS.

He’s able to locate Maglor being charming at Luthien and Beren fairly quickly. Whereas Celegorm and Curufin look as if they’ve been on a hard march for days, Luthien, apart from the general grime of travel in the wilds, looks fresh as a daisy in may. Exactly how much power does she HAVE?? Never mind, one thing at a time. She and Beren graciously accept an invitation to a more private area. They’ve eaten and washed a bit, same as the throng of ex-thralls, but it’s VERY crowded. And They want to talk to Tyelpe, Finrod, Frodo, and Annatar too. They know more than Maedhros! But there wasn’t a LOT of time for other questions after establishing that there was some kind of time travel going on!

Tyelpe and Annatar aren’t hard to locate either. They knew this was coming. A quick wash up and food, and maybe a change of clothes, and it’s on to the Next Thing.

Note: oh. Huh. I didn’t think of it before, but I wonder what Annatar and Frodo are WEARING??? Some casual Valinorin clothes? I bet they were NOT dressed for getting dropped in the past! If it was just like, vibes based, maybe some clothes Annatar thinks of as ‘comfy’ rather than anything either of them might have been wearing before they were dropped into the past, since their bodies were created for this unlike Tyelpe or Finrod!

Annatar reluctantly taps on Frodo’s mind, and tells him Maedhros is collecting them.

Frodo, by this point, is not crying anymore, but is the kind of wrung out EXHAUSTED, that only days and days of rough travel and then a fierce crying jag will make you. Finrod almost offers to carry him, but Frodo just sets his mouth and gets up off the stone floor, doggedly putting one foot in front of the other and plodding along next to Finrod, who directs him around the crowd and into the keep proper.

Maedhros was somehow NOT expecting this Frodo child to look as much like family as Curufin and Celegorm insisted, but oh dear, if anything they understated it. He looks VERY much like the elf called Annatar. The hair, the skin, the eyes, but the other features. They were right, and Maedhros can see little echoes of his kin all over him.

He’s also swaying where he stands next to Finrod, with red eyes and tear tracks through the wilderness grime on his face. (Remember, Frodo skipped the wash up and clothes change area. Finrod too. I’m sure once they get through the first awkward conversation, someone will get them each a basin and some clean clothes!)

Maedhros makes eye contact with Finrod and jerks his chin at the soft couch set before the fireplace. Finrod takes the hint, and leads the young ner that is, in all likelihood Maedhros’s grand-nephew over and gently pushes him down on it.

Maedhros turns his attention to Tyelpe, and also Annatar. Tyelpe steps around Maedhros, and slings the crown off his torso and sets it down on Maedhros’s desk where it thuds down with a surprisingly light thump for a thing wrought of iron and misery.

Maedhros: So. Explain. Lady? This seems to have started with you?

Luthien shrugs gracefully, and sets herself down in Maedhros’s towering armchair before the fire and tells her part of the story. It is, thankfully, lacking the canon bits of C&C capturing her and being creepy assholes! Because Tyelpe stole Huan and met up with her before that could happen here!

When she’s finished with her part, with input from Beren, and Finrod, Maedhros turns and raises his eyebrows at his nephew.

Some very speaking looks are exchanged rapidly between Finrod and Tyelpe and Annatar and Frodo.

Finally Tyelpe just shrugs helplessly.

Tyelpe: Uncle, we have NO IDEA. One minute we’re in Fourth Age Tirion, the next I’m in Nargothrond and Finrod is in Sauron’s Tower, and Annatar and Frodo are there too. And Frodo is an elf.

Maedhros. Blinks. And replays that. Nope. Still makes absolutely NO sense.

Maglor: … I’m sorry, what?

Tyelpe: We’ve done this before. It all went SO much worse. Annatar wasn’t there before, though, or Frodo.

Finrod: Well. Annatar sort of was. Why are there two of you now, by the way? That’s. Kind of alarming.

Annatar: When I spoke to the One, and was changed, I was FUNDAMENTALLY changed. To hazard a guess, when this… Event happened, I was too different to integrate with my former self. He is maiar, I am elven. I came to my senses, he’s still following his shining plan.

Frodo: And me?

Annatar: We share something of our spirits on a deep level. And since hobbits have not woken yet, and will not for many many years yet, I imagine this was the only way for you to have a form here and now.

Frodo: *watery chuckle* Oh. Yes I suppose that makes sense.

Please imagine Maedhros and Maglor and C&C ping-ponging back and forth here, COMPLETELY CONFUSED by this conversation. But desperately trying to add up the bits they’re hearing into some kind of coherent narrative. Maedhros is squinting at Annatar with sudden DEEP suspicion.

Maglor: I’m sorry, can we back up a bit here? Fourth Age VALINOR????

Tyelpe: *sighs* *sits down next to Frodo* We all might as well sit down, this is going to take a while.

Maedhros having a RARE good day, a thing he has probably not experienced since Thangorodrim! He deserves this! He probably has no idea what to do with it however!

Going slightly insane over the fact that Frodo is getting read as Celebrimbor's kid partially because Celebrimbor put something FEANOR MADE in his hair. And that this makes PERFECT SENSE with their extremely close friendship but will cause INCORRECT CONCLUSIONS to be leapt to immediately. RIP to Frodo and Celebrimbor and Annatar who are going to be staring at people in perplexed bewilderment very very often for some time, because even if the inner circle knows the story it is a VERY COMPLICATED story and "Celebrimbor and Annatar had a kid" is a WAY SIMPLER ONE

It's so deeply funny to me that no one checked whether the Balrogs were dead. I wouldn't either. Congrats to everyone for having a modicum of good sense in a frankly nonsensical situation, great job

This is going to be the weirdest fucking conversation Maedhros has ever had. And he's had some very weird ones.