#racoons in valinor?

[avantegarda]

Another Fab 500 Fic

as per a Professional Business Agreement with @bunky-barnes, here we have Maedhros, Fingon, and Maglor being smol dumbasses together. Bless them.

(Mae is about the equivalent of a human 10 year old; Mags and Fin are the equivalent of 4-5)

--

There were few people in the world Maedhros loved more than his brother Maglor and cousin Fingon. As he would tell just about anyone, they were his best friends. The only trouble was that, seeing as they were both just ten years old, attempting to actually plan anything with them was like herding cats.

“All right, everyone. We are playing the Outer Lands game today,” Maedhros informed Fingon and Maglor, who were listening intently and attempting to whistle, respectively. “I’ll be Grandfather Finwë, Makalaurë can be King Olwë, and Findekano can be King Ingwë. And we can fight wild animals and orcs and things.”

“Why do you get to be Grandfather?” Fingon said, pouting.

Maedhros sighed, trying his best to remain patient. “Because I’m the oldest, of course. And you have to be King Ingwë because you’re part Vanyarin, and Makalure has to be Olwë because he likes singing.”

“I don’t want to be King Olwë, Nelyo,” Maglor piped up. “I want to be King Elwë.”

“Why would you want to be Elwë?” asked Maedhros, wrinkling his nose. “He got lost in the woods.”

“Exactly,” said Maglor seriously. He began drumming absentmindedly on his legs, singing “Lost in the woods, lost in the woods…”

“Oh, fine,” Maedhros said with a roll of his eyes. “You can be Elwë and get lost in the woods and then Finno and I will come find you and bring you back to Valinor. And then,” he added, “we will go inside and have bread and butter. All right?”

Both smaller boys nodded eagerly, and Maedhros smiled in satisfaction. “Good. Let’s get to it.”

--

The small copse of trees on the edge of the estate was hardly a forest by adult standards, but to the children it seemed very large and mysterious indeed, especially in the center where the canopy of leaves was so thick barely any light shone through. Maedhros and Fingon had had a grand time at first, waving sticks at squirrels and shouting the most fearsome battle cries they could invent. But as Laurelin’s light dimmed and there was still no sign of Maglor, Fingon’s enthusiasm for the game was clearly fading.

“Maitimo, it’s been hours, can’t we…”

“I’m not Maitimo right now, I’m Finwë,” Maedhros said irritably. “Remember? We’re not done with the game yet.”

“Finwë, then. It’s been hours and we still haven’t found him. Couldn’t we go back to the house and eat now?”

“No, we have to keep going. Because it’s the right thing to do, and poor Elwë will be eaten by wolves or orcs or something. Besides,” Maedhros added, “if we leave Makalaure in the woods Mother will be cross and won’t let us have anything to eat until we find him.”

“We’ll never find him,” Fingon grumbled, kicking at a root. “He’s so small he can hide anywhere. Why couldn’t you have been the one to hide? You’re easy to find anywhere.”

“Because I am busy being King Finwë, and...never mind,” said Maedhros. “We’ll find him soon. If he gets tired of waiting he will just start crying and then we’ll be able to hear him from a league away.”

Sure enough, nearly as soon as he had finished speaking, a piercing wail resounded from a nearby tree, loud enough to send several birds scattering. Maedhros and Fingon rushed towards the sound to find little Maglor perched halfway up a gnarled oak tree, cowering in fear from a shaggy gray creature about the size of a large cat. Maglor had clearly disturbed the beast’s home or something of that kind, as its teeth were bared and it looked ready to tear the small boy limb from limb.

“Oh no,” Maedhros whispered. “I’ve seen one of those before, they like to come into the garden and dig up the vegetables. They’re awful. Did you bring your slingshot? Maybe we can hit it with a rock and it will go away.”

Fingon shook his head sadly. “Mother took my slingshot away after I broke Father’s glass of wine with it. But maybe…” His eyes lit up. “Nelyo, give me your stick, yours is bigger. I have an idea.”

Without waiting for a reply, he grabbed Maedhros’ stick, shimmying up the tree as best he could one-handed and perching on the branch just next to Maglor’s. The animal turned to snarl at him, preparing to pounce, but barely had a chance to move before Fingon gave it a good whack on the nose with his stick.

“Go away, you horrid animal!” Fingon shouted. “Leave him alone!”

The beast hissed and retreated, scrambling up the tree trunk until it was out of sight. Grinning triumphantly, Fingon dropped back to the forest floor, reaching up to help Maglor to the ground.

“Finno, you’re brilliant!” Maedhros cried. “That was incredibly brave. Don’t you think our cousin was brave, Makalaurë?”

Maglor, who was still fairly shaken from his frightening experience, nodded, leaning against Maedhros’ side. “Uh-huh.”

“You’re much braver than old King Ingwë,” Maedhros went on. “You need your own hero name for our next game. How do you feel about Findekano the Valiant?”

Fingon tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “I like that, I think. Yes, I like it very much. But can we please, please have something to eat now?”

#silmarillion #maglor #maedhros #fingon #bunky barnes #fabulous 500 #my writing #tolkien #racoons in valinor? #racoons in valinor yes

[wulfiestired]

                                                                     @pricedfreedom It had been a few months since Thranduil had wandered from Greenwood. He was weary to leave for long or too often- it would be a disaster if any of his enchantments broke and none of the other mages knew about it. For now mortal eyes refuses to see the forest and they always felt a need to avoid the area. That land did not exist. Not even if they saw it in a photo nor video- it was all white static and Thranduil liked it that way.

That was no to say that humans forgot elves. Quite a few elves lived among them. There was, most famously, Maglor who had never settled with any elven kin. He had seen the elf only thrice since the way to Valinor had been cut and each encounter had been long enough to simply share news. There were other elves who pretended to be humans or lived life alone as well as they could in this world.

Thranduil had never seen the joy of being alone. He held his family too dearly (even if his son and husband were beyond reach.) Instead, he and many other elves found delight in bringing strange new artifacts of humans back and sharing tales of the outside world. There was always something. Humans had developed fast in the last couple of centuries and there was always some new strange device.

He just had to find the one that caught his eyes.

Hopefully no one would notice a racoon wandering to close to their pack or their home....

#pricedfreedom #rp #left it super open so steevie can be doing whatever #but hes going to get to deal with sticky fingers hehehe #also thran has two more kids in this verse #out of wedlock #i need to add that to his profile #just saying bc who knows if they'll get mentioned #Thranduil speaks