Fic A Day - Day 8 - The Past Is Prologue
Aug. 8th, 2021 09:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grundyscribblingTitle: The Past Is Prologue
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Crossover: LotR
Disclaimer: All belongs to Whedon & Tolkien. No money is being made here, it's all in good fun.
Summary: Anariel settles in to see what Morgoth shows her of Maeglin
Word Count: 1680
Anariel was startled when midway through one of Maeglin’s childhood trips to the mountains to visit the dwarves, her brother-in-law joined her – meaning the grown elf she’d just met, not the adorable kid traipsing after his father here in dreamland. (On the one hand, it was rather sweet. On the other hand, rather disturbing, since it meant Morgoth had already had an eye on him while he was still a child.)
“How are you here?” she asked, looking from little Maeglin to grown Maeglin in confusion.
As far as she knew, he was supposed to be the one awake keeping watch. Tindomiel had turned in first, and then they’d held a whispered conference about the logistics of who else would sleep and when. Her brothers had grudgingly agreed to sleep early, and be woken up before the end of the night to give Maeglin a chance to get some rest.
There was also the minor detail that she hadn’t realized it was possible to have a viewing audience of more than one for the evening’s feature film.
Grown Maeglin looked just as puzzled as she felt. (Little Maeglin was splashing in a stream.)
“I was singing. I thought it might help?” he explained hesitantly. “You were not moving, but nor did you look at ease.”
“Just singing was enough to pull you in?” she asked, equal parts skepticism and concern.
If that was enough to let someone join her, things were going to be even more difficult than she’d thought.
“I may have also touched your shoulder?”
“Well, you’re here now,” she shrugged. “Might as well settle in. You’re still just a kid, so we’ve got a while.”
She tried not to wonder what it would look like to her brothers if they woke up. Not that she was worried about that - just as long as her sister stayed asleep, it was fine.
“It is as well,” Maeglin said, looking somewhat nervous – in fact, slightly sick. “For I have things I would say to you, without Tindomiel hearing.”
Anariel raised an eyebrow.
“Am I going to make a ribcage hat?” she asked evenly.
She’d agreed to no Scooby threats, but Maeglin had overheard that whispered conversation and demanded to be enlightened as to just what they meant by Scooby threats. Tindomiel had ended up issuing a few threats of her own after she saw her mate’s reaction to ribcage hats.
“No,” Maeglin replied miserably. “It is just…I would not hurt her, and I think she would be hurt by what I must say. You would find out either way, I am sure, but as you were honest with me, I would rather do the same.”
Anariel waved for him to get on with it.
“I fear I am at fault for what has happened to you,” he said slowly. “To explain, though, requires returning to the time of my birth. Ammë had a flash of foresight – she saw I would marry who she believed to be Galadriel’s daughter. But the first time I saw your portrait, I realized she was mistaken. It was a granddaughter, not a daughter Ammë saw.”
Anariel was totally confused now.
“I’m pretty unmistakable with the lack of height and all,” she pointed out. She didn’t even reach his shoulder.
She had over the years resigned herself to being distinctive for her shortness. Meeting the family promised to be all kinds of fun, given the average elf read her as child-sized.
“You were meant to be taller, I think,” Maeglin said quietly. “Tindomiel tells me your father says your stature is the result of what happened to you in California. You were taller in my dreams as well.”
“Don’t start blaming yourself for my height,” Anariel told him. “Morgoth’s a bastard.”
“But it is my fault,” Maeglin replied dejectedly. “You know I was captured and taken to Angband. You guessed what others preferred not to see.”
“About the torture?” Anariel sighed. “If you’re sticking around, we’ll both get to see that part.”
She was not looking forward to it. Besides her own experience of how Morgoth treated elvish guests, Uncle Finrod’s end had been unfun enough.
“Sauron saw you in my memories,” Maeglin said softly, his voice full of shame. “He saw you, knew you for who you were, and promised I would never have you. He took great delight in assuring me I had killed my own mate. From what Tinu has told me, I believe you being taken to California was him keeping his word.”
He looked all for the world as though he expected her to lash out at him, braced for the blow as best he could.
“And you didn’t want Tindomiel to hear any of this because you didn’t want her to think she was a consolation prize,” Anariel replied slowly, reasoning it out as she spoke. “Or to feel like she had taken something that was meant to be mine.”
Maeglin nodded.
“I… do not know how best to explain it. You were once a sign of hope to me, but you were never real in the way Tinu is. I regret that I failed you, but I will not fail her.”
Anariel almost gave in to a bizarre urge to laugh.
Foresight was no guarantee of anything. No matter what dreams he might have had, they were only ever that. You can’t fail someone who doesn’t exist. Her grandfather had been a little kid when all this happened.
She was probably meant to have found out all this in tonight’s feature film anyway, but it didn’t hit quite the same hearing directly from Maeglin. Maybe it was because she’s already seen enough First Age nastiness. Maybe it was because she already liked him even just from what little she’d seen of how he treated her sister.
But maybe it was also because she’d already seen Finduilas still beating herself up for things she thought were her fault two full Ages later – and Morgoth’s little parting gift meant she’d seen that some of those faults were solidly of his making. Wounds to the fëa could fester far worse than physical ones. Physical damage might kill, but the injuries to the spirit could persist long after death.
“Set your mind at ease, I don’t see where you are to blame.”
“But…”
“You’ve been honest with me, and I’m guessing this is something you haven’t told anyone else.”
He nodded, but uncertainly, unable to see where she might be going with this.
“You say you won’t fail my sister. I believe you. Now I want to tell you something I have not told anyone else, and then maybe you’ll believe me when I say I’m not upset.”
Maeglin looked at her, eyes wide and wary.
“My little sister, Tindomiel? She was made from me. The people in California who created her didn’t know who I was, they just knew the Slayer could protect the Key, and wanted to be sure she’d do that with her very life if it came to that. So they made me a sister. I don’t know if they took stuff from my fëa, or just my hroä. Actually, I don’t really get how it worked even if it was just the hroä, because we don’t look much alike. It’s more like they took my genes and shook them up until something slightly different tumbled out.”
She paused, abruptly realizing she might have just lost him completely with genetics. She didn’t know much about the current state of elven science on this side of the Sea, but she’d never really heard anyone mention it in Ennor.
“Anyway, however they did it, my sister didn’t come into the world the usual way. So for all I know, she got all the bits that made the person you were meant to be with. From where I’m standing, all’s right with the world. Well, I mean, aside from this whole Morgoth mental booby trap thing. But that’s definitely not your fault.”
Maeglin’s eyes had brightened a bit, but he hesitated.
“I would like to think it so, but you were still hurt by my foolishness, my failure. Morgoth looked for you even before your birth because he saw you in my mind.”
“Which was only because he went rooting around in there in the first place,” Anariel replied firmly, looking him straight in the eye. “If you want me to say it, fine, going outside the protection of Gondolin was a little foolish. Kick yourself for that if you really have to. Personally, I think you’ve been punished for it pretty harshly already. But everything that happened after? That’s all on Morgoth. He didn’t have to go after baby me, any more than he had to send you back as a puppet to try to kill my grandfather. That’s on him, not on you. All of it. And he’ll answer for it.”
“As far as you marrying Tindomiel? I’m not about to get mad that my sister has a mate that adores her so much he’s kept this massive secret for years because he isn’t going to let her get hurt by anything if he can help it. I meant what I said – and even if Tindomiel wasn’t who you were meant for originally, she’s who you’re meant for now. She may not look like who your mom saw, but she’s the one. Because as far as I can tell, neither you nor I ended up being the people in her foresight. Those two people never happened. We did.”
She saw him accept the truth of it. Maeglin had grown into the orphaned prince who fell into Morgoth’s clutches. She’d grown (or not grown, most elves would probably say) into the Slayer who was going to beat Morgoth once and for all.
“Now that we got that out of the way,” she added, “settle in. And feel free to fill in any parts the Big Butthole leaves out. He likes to skip as much nice stuff as possible. And I’m petty enough to enjoy thwarting him any way we can.”
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Crossover: LotR
Disclaimer: All belongs to Whedon & Tolkien. No money is being made here, it's all in good fun.
Summary: Anariel settles in to see what Morgoth shows her of Maeglin
Word Count: 1680
Anariel was startled when midway through one of Maeglin’s childhood trips to the mountains to visit the dwarves, her brother-in-law joined her – meaning the grown elf she’d just met, not the adorable kid traipsing after his father here in dreamland. (On the one hand, it was rather sweet. On the other hand, rather disturbing, since it meant Morgoth had already had an eye on him while he was still a child.)
“How are you here?” she asked, looking from little Maeglin to grown Maeglin in confusion.
As far as she knew, he was supposed to be the one awake keeping watch. Tindomiel had turned in first, and then they’d held a whispered conference about the logistics of who else would sleep and when. Her brothers had grudgingly agreed to sleep early, and be woken up before the end of the night to give Maeglin a chance to get some rest.
There was also the minor detail that she hadn’t realized it was possible to have a viewing audience of more than one for the evening’s feature film.
Grown Maeglin looked just as puzzled as she felt. (Little Maeglin was splashing in a stream.)
“I was singing. I thought it might help?” he explained hesitantly. “You were not moving, but nor did you look at ease.”
“Just singing was enough to pull you in?” she asked, equal parts skepticism and concern.
If that was enough to let someone join her, things were going to be even more difficult than she’d thought.
“I may have also touched your shoulder?”
“Well, you’re here now,” she shrugged. “Might as well settle in. You’re still just a kid, so we’ve got a while.”
She tried not to wonder what it would look like to her brothers if they woke up. Not that she was worried about that - just as long as her sister stayed asleep, it was fine.
“It is as well,” Maeglin said, looking somewhat nervous – in fact, slightly sick. “For I have things I would say to you, without Tindomiel hearing.”
Anariel raised an eyebrow.
“Am I going to make a ribcage hat?” she asked evenly.
She’d agreed to no Scooby threats, but Maeglin had overheard that whispered conversation and demanded to be enlightened as to just what they meant by Scooby threats. Tindomiel had ended up issuing a few threats of her own after she saw her mate’s reaction to ribcage hats.
“No,” Maeglin replied miserably. “It is just…I would not hurt her, and I think she would be hurt by what I must say. You would find out either way, I am sure, but as you were honest with me, I would rather do the same.”
Anariel waved for him to get on with it.
“I fear I am at fault for what has happened to you,” he said slowly. “To explain, though, requires returning to the time of my birth. Ammë had a flash of foresight – she saw I would marry who she believed to be Galadriel’s daughter. But the first time I saw your portrait, I realized she was mistaken. It was a granddaughter, not a daughter Ammë saw.”
Anariel was totally confused now.
“I’m pretty unmistakable with the lack of height and all,” she pointed out. She didn’t even reach his shoulder.
She had over the years resigned herself to being distinctive for her shortness. Meeting the family promised to be all kinds of fun, given the average elf read her as child-sized.
“You were meant to be taller, I think,” Maeglin said quietly. “Tindomiel tells me your father says your stature is the result of what happened to you in California. You were taller in my dreams as well.”
“Don’t start blaming yourself for my height,” Anariel told him. “Morgoth’s a bastard.”
“But it is my fault,” Maeglin replied dejectedly. “You know I was captured and taken to Angband. You guessed what others preferred not to see.”
“About the torture?” Anariel sighed. “If you’re sticking around, we’ll both get to see that part.”
She was not looking forward to it. Besides her own experience of how Morgoth treated elvish guests, Uncle Finrod’s end had been unfun enough.
“Sauron saw you in my memories,” Maeglin said softly, his voice full of shame. “He saw you, knew you for who you were, and promised I would never have you. He took great delight in assuring me I had killed my own mate. From what Tinu has told me, I believe you being taken to California was him keeping his word.”
He looked all for the world as though he expected her to lash out at him, braced for the blow as best he could.
“And you didn’t want Tindomiel to hear any of this because you didn’t want her to think she was a consolation prize,” Anariel replied slowly, reasoning it out as she spoke. “Or to feel like she had taken something that was meant to be mine.”
Maeglin nodded.
“I… do not know how best to explain it. You were once a sign of hope to me, but you were never real in the way Tinu is. I regret that I failed you, but I will not fail her.”
Anariel almost gave in to a bizarre urge to laugh.
Foresight was no guarantee of anything. No matter what dreams he might have had, they were only ever that. You can’t fail someone who doesn’t exist. Her grandfather had been a little kid when all this happened.
She was probably meant to have found out all this in tonight’s feature film anyway, but it didn’t hit quite the same hearing directly from Maeglin. Maybe it was because she’s already seen enough First Age nastiness. Maybe it was because she already liked him even just from what little she’d seen of how he treated her sister.
But maybe it was also because she’d already seen Finduilas still beating herself up for things she thought were her fault two full Ages later – and Morgoth’s little parting gift meant she’d seen that some of those faults were solidly of his making. Wounds to the fëa could fester far worse than physical ones. Physical damage might kill, but the injuries to the spirit could persist long after death.
“Set your mind at ease, I don’t see where you are to blame.”
“But…”
“You’ve been honest with me, and I’m guessing this is something you haven’t told anyone else.”
He nodded, but uncertainly, unable to see where she might be going with this.
“You say you won’t fail my sister. I believe you. Now I want to tell you something I have not told anyone else, and then maybe you’ll believe me when I say I’m not upset.”
Maeglin looked at her, eyes wide and wary.
“My little sister, Tindomiel? She was made from me. The people in California who created her didn’t know who I was, they just knew the Slayer could protect the Key, and wanted to be sure she’d do that with her very life if it came to that. So they made me a sister. I don’t know if they took stuff from my fëa, or just my hroä. Actually, I don’t really get how it worked even if it was just the hroä, because we don’t look much alike. It’s more like they took my genes and shook them up until something slightly different tumbled out.”
She paused, abruptly realizing she might have just lost him completely with genetics. She didn’t know much about the current state of elven science on this side of the Sea, but she’d never really heard anyone mention it in Ennor.
“Anyway, however they did it, my sister didn’t come into the world the usual way. So for all I know, she got all the bits that made the person you were meant to be with. From where I’m standing, all’s right with the world. Well, I mean, aside from this whole Morgoth mental booby trap thing. But that’s definitely not your fault.”
Maeglin’s eyes had brightened a bit, but he hesitated.
“I would like to think it so, but you were still hurt by my foolishness, my failure. Morgoth looked for you even before your birth because he saw you in my mind.”
“Which was only because he went rooting around in there in the first place,” Anariel replied firmly, looking him straight in the eye. “If you want me to say it, fine, going outside the protection of Gondolin was a little foolish. Kick yourself for that if you really have to. Personally, I think you’ve been punished for it pretty harshly already. But everything that happened after? That’s all on Morgoth. He didn’t have to go after baby me, any more than he had to send you back as a puppet to try to kill my grandfather. That’s on him, not on you. All of it. And he’ll answer for it.”
“As far as you marrying Tindomiel? I’m not about to get mad that my sister has a mate that adores her so much he’s kept this massive secret for years because he isn’t going to let her get hurt by anything if he can help it. I meant what I said – and even if Tindomiel wasn’t who you were meant for originally, she’s who you’re meant for now. She may not look like who your mom saw, but she’s the one. Because as far as I can tell, neither you nor I ended up being the people in her foresight. Those two people never happened. We did.”
She saw him accept the truth of it. Maeglin had grown into the orphaned prince who fell into Morgoth’s clutches. She’d grown (or not grown, most elves would probably say) into the Slayer who was going to beat Morgoth once and for all.
“Now that we got that out of the way,” she added, “settle in. And feel free to fill in any parts the Big Butthole leaves out. He likes to skip as much nice stuff as possible. And I’m petty enough to enjoy thwarting him any way we can.”
no subject
Date: 2021-08-09 03:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-08-14 02:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-08-09 04:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-08-14 02:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-08-10 03:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-08-14 02:13 am (UTC)*does a happy dance*
sw
Date: 2021-09-01 10:18 pm (UTC)Re: sw
Date: 2021-09-07 01:30 am (UTC)