Hi! On the one hand, I love your modern au, on the other hand, I am super curious about the ancient Egypt au... So real dilemma here!
Hey so I wrote some more ancient Egypt AU just for you! And me. And everyone.
Part one
Part two
“So what you’re telling me is that Aredhel actually settled down and had kids?”
“No, not kids. Kid, singular. And I wouldn’t say settled down as much as she was trapped in an enchanted forest by her abusive husband, but yeah, you get the picture.”
They walked together along the the riverbank, Maeglin somewhat stiffly on ill-fitting legs, Maglor pretending a panic attack was not poised and ready to strike. He had to act like this was normal. Like he was happy to see this new addition to his extended family, and not the brother he had spent literally centuries waiting to talk to.
This was fine. Maeglin was great to talk to, too. Probably.
“I never actually met a Fëanorian before. Mom liked you lot, though. She talked about her cousins all the time- how much she missed the hunts and the rides. Father hated you.”
As he spoke, Maeglin gesticulated to an obscene degree, testing his new fingers. He seemed so amused by his own stature, the way the digits moved. It was probably normal for a long-bodiless soul, but it still gave Maglor a creeping feeling inside. Like he was watching a swarm of maggots manipulate the body like a hand puppet.
Maeglin was not very much like his mother. She had always been straight to the point, purposeful, determined to a fault. She never wound in circles with her words- always dutifully direct. Maeglin wasn’t like that. Maglor wondered if he ever would stop talking.
“Of course, Father hated all the Noldor. The Fëanorians were the worst in his mind, naturally, but all of them were bad news. He never forgave us all for showing up and ruining Middle Earth. ‘Invaders and usurpers,’ he used to say, ‘Nothing more than a ragged clan of honorless thieves.” Maeglin paused, again looking thoughtfully at his own hands. “I suppose he was right in the end.”
“I suppose he was,” Maglor agreed with gold and silver light dancing in his mind’s eye.
After spending so long in solitary silence, Maglor was surprised to find himself feeling nothing but relief to have a few moments respite from another person’s voice. Maeglin was quiet. He hadn’t stopped talking since he awoke, but now, staring at his lifeless human fingers, he finally shut his mouth.
Maglor tried to remember what he’d heard about Gondolin’s fall, but that was so many lifetimes ago now. The details were somewhat fuzzy. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Maeglin had had something to do with it. Houseless spirits were rarely innocent.
“How far is it to the Encircling Mountains?” Maeglin asked after a long pause. Maglor almost laughed.
“Gone.”
“What?”
“That’s gone. All of it. The world was broken in the war and it’s broken again a few times since. There are no Encircling Mountains now.”
“Wait, no-“ Maeglin began, then made a weird rattling sound that might have been meant as a choke. “It can’t be gone. What do you mean, gone?”
“The labs broke and the sea swallowed it. Everything is gone. The only kingdoms left are those of Men.”
“You mean there are no elves left?”
Maglor shrugged.
“Just me.” He glanced at the shuffling cadaver at his side, and hastily added, “And you, too, now.”
The thought of his only company for the rest of eternity being Maeglin made him visibly wince.
“I don’t think I count,” Maeglin said softly, stretching his death-stiffened muscles. “No wonder you wanted to see your brother so bad. It must be awful here. Just Men to talk to? Horrible.” He pulled a grimace, trying to play it off casually despite the anguish in his eyes. “I don’t like Men.”
The way he said it gave Maglor chills.
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I very much hope you write more of that modern AU! I love it a lot. But someone’s death scene would be very nice as well - there’s a lot of potential for angst there
So I finally got around to finishing the next part of the modern AU!
Hope you all enjoy!
Part one
Part two
Part three
Part four
Daeron would probably still be pissed off if the salad wasn’t so damn good.
Seriously. It was so good it was making him question his entire understanding of Noldorin culture.
For a bunch of meat-eating metalsmiths obsessed with the artificial to produce a salad like this was almost unthinkable.
He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of saying that, though. His mouth was too full.
“This is delicious,” Maglor said next to him. The stubborn desire not to give his hosts the privilege of his visible gratitude immediately melted away and Daeron nodded enthusiastically in agreement.
“So good!”
Fëanor simply inclined his head with pride gleaming hot in his eyes. “The cooks are very good. We have this charming Avari on staff and she makes the most fascinating cuisine. You ever have Avari food, Daeron?”
Daeron nodded. He wasn’t sure ‘fascinating’ was a word he would use and if it was even acceptable to do so, but he could be polite for the sake of the salad.
“Sindarin and Avari food are very similar. Sometimes we do recipe swaps and things like that.”
Caranthir glowered at him from across the table. Before he could snap some microaggression in reply, though, his mother joined the conversation.
“You know, my partner is Teleri, so we eat a lot of traditional meals. I never thought I’d like fish, and I never would have even tried it if it weren’t for her. I think that trying food out of one’s cultural realm is a very unifying thing.”Fëanor pulled a face.
“Oh, that’s very cool!” Daeron said as he took another bite of salad. Maglor hadn’t been kidding when he said most of the family was gay. It was a welcome change, to be honest. “How long have you two been together?”
“We’ve dated about, oh, three and a half, four years now. She’s a lot of fun, you know. Very attentive. Loyal.” She didn’t look at Fëanor as she said it, but he still flinched as if scalded by the remark. Clearly he did not take well to even the slightest implication of character flaws.
For a moment, there was utter silence, except the sound of Celebrimbor’s soft babbles. Finally, Maedhros cleared his throat and tried to restart some form of cordial conversation.
“How are things in the lab, Dad?”
“Not good,” Fëanor said darkly. “I’m no closer to recreating the formula and campus officials still haven’t taken my complaints regarding Bauglir seriously. It’s unbelievable. The man steals my life work and murders my father and still everyone is too busy groveling in front of the other Valar to care. Disgraceful.”
Daeron nearly choked on his drink trying to process that entire sentence.
“We’ll get him,” Mae said in a voice that conveyed calmness very suspiciously. “Don’t worry, Dad. No matter what it takes.”
Daeron, having recovered from his brief coughing fit, managed to creak out a question.
“What is it you do, Mr. Curufinwë?”
“I’m a molecular geochemist.” He flicked something off his plate, rather improperly. “And sometimes a professor because I’ll lose funding if I don’t lecture.”
Daeron looked at Maglor for help, and Mags just shrugged.
“He makes rocks.”
“Stones, son. Precious stones mostly. Other types of geologic matter, too.”
“Yes,” Nerdanel added tiredly. “He does so love his stones.”
Someone stole his life work as a rock professor and then… murdered his dad. What?
When he remembered he should be politely paying attention, he tried to zone in, but the only things he could decipher were that Nerdanel and her ex-husband were now arguing and Maglor looked uncomfortable, so he just put his hand on his boyfriend’s thigh and continued trying to figure out how someone could murder a college rock professor’s dad and get away with it.
“Daeron!”
Slowly he blinked and turned his head to see one of the twins grinning eagerly at him. He had no idea which was which and, to be honest, he’d forgotten what they were even called in the first place.
“Yes?”
“We need your help, dude. What’s the capital of Ligma?”
The other twin smothered a laugh. Daeron stared blankly at the two of them, then glanced at Maglor, then back to them.
Are you serious?
He cleared his throat, speaking deliberately so he could think of his salad in between each word and remind himself this was all worth it. “I don’t know. What is the capital of-“
“Ligma balls!” the other twin bellowed, and both of them erupted into screeching laughter.
Daeron looked down at his plate and counted the chunks of strawberry until the quiet rage died down.
“You two are so immature,” Caranthir muttered. Celegorm gave his brothers a very un-sneaky thumbs up.
Six… Seven… Eight… Oh, I’ve bitten that one, looks like eight and a half…
“Why would I send you something for our anniversary if we’re divorced?” Nerdanel snapped, reminding Daeron that she was still deep in argument with her ex, who he was less fond of by the second.
“Because you miss me,” Fëanor said with such certainty it made Daeron’s stomach churn. Nerdanel laughed coldly.
“Fëanor, I spent about ten years missing you until I realized you didn’t miss me back.”
“I do miss you.”
“Sure. What do you miss more? Me, or your special rocks?”
There was a very long pause. No one else at the table made a sound until finally Fëanor creaked an indignant “You really can’t compare-“
“That’s what I thought.” Nerdanel took a hearty sip of her wine. “When you’re done being in love with a couple of lifeless rocks we can talk. Until then, I don’t want to hear it.”
Maglor looked like he was trying to melt out of his chair into a puddle on the floor. Next to him, Maedhros looked straight ahead with a glazed expression on his face, clearly not listening.
Curufin shifted Celebrimbor to his hip and began to speak in a lazily arrogant little drawl that mimicked his father’s with none of the elegance. “You know, Dad, my wife was just the same.”
Nerdanel made a horrible whine sort of sound. “Curufin, do not start about your wife, you know I’m still upset with you.”
“All I’m saying is that women are very jealous creatures. They have a hard time understanding the passion for one’s work and they tend to take it personally.”
Daeron blinked.
Lot to unpack there.
Nerdanel stood up, slapping her hands on the table. “I think I’m going to go.”
Daeron could not blame her.
“Son,” Fëanor said gravely as Nerdanel stood and made a brisk walk for the door. He fixed Curufin in a gaze like molten iron. “We have nothing but respect for women here. Apologize to your mother.”
“I was just agreeing with what you-“
“You did not have to do it in a way that suggested our companions, mothers, sisters, and wives are any lesser than we are. Apologize now.”
Curufin hesitated, shifted Celebrimbor to his other hip, then quietly and meekly said, “I’m sorry, Mother.”
“It was lovely to meet you, Daeron,” Nerdanel said without so much as a glance at her son.
Daeron nodded, still too stunned by the whole situation to speak.
Nerdanel left, utterly neglecting to reply to Curufin’s half-assed apology.
For a long time there was silence at the table until Celegorm cleared his throat and leaned over.
“So, Mae. I hear you’ve got a new special someone.”
Maedhros’s face flushed, and just like that the conversation bounced right back on track, as if the entire sexist outburst hadn’t happened and they weren’t missing a family member.
Daeron looked helplessly at Maglor, who just looked helplessly back.
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