Modern AU Silm Fic Idea

Modern AU Silm fic idea

So you know how if something is frozen, it's kinda preserved? And you know the elves who died in the Helcaraxë were... well... frozen?

So imagine, if you will, in modern times of Middle Earth, when the dwarves are no longer prevalent (maybe they live in the Middle Earth equivalent of El Dorado?) and the hobbits have gone elsewhere to do who knows what (they become forest cryptids in the Ered Luin AKA, the Middle Earth Appalachia), and humans have created modern technology.

As in RADAR, SONAR, all that jazz. And humans, who we all know are very curious by nature, go exploring the ocean.

Human scientists explore the northern oceans, where the Helcaraxë is/has been, and they find bodies in the ice; nonhuman, but bipedal and human ENOUGH bodies. Sure, their ears are pointed, their teeth are strange, and they have a different bone structure, but the likeness is uncanny.

After a while of simply observing, the scientists get the go-ahead from their respective governments (Gondor, if it's still there, maybe Rohan; all of those civilizations have forgotten the might of the Eldar, though) and they manage to carve one of the bodies out of the ice.

After bringing the body back to land and in a laboratory, they discover some things.

1. The body is female.

2. She has different DNA and tissues than the average human.

3. She is still living.

(They find this out when someone is trying to get a tissue sample but almost gets strangled in the process.)

She speaks an archaic language, one that no linguist can decipher. However, when she tries to communicate via writing, she writes in an ancient script similar to the letters and words found in some of Gondor's ancient artifacts---swords of olden kings, the runes on a stone crypt with a king and two (supposed) children beside him.

All the while, the news coverage is all over, and some people are panicking. Who is this woman who was found ALIVE in the ice? Why are her ears naturally pointed? How old is she? More importantly, what is she saying?

We, the readers, will know that this woman is one of the Eldar, and who is the last elf left in Middle Earth? After the sons of Elrond have sailed, after Legolas and Gimli headed West, and after Celeborn finally saw the shores of Alqualondë? Who is left?

Maglor.

Maglor sees these shocking images of a golden haired woman, obviously of the Vanyar, and recognizes her. That is Elenwë, the wife of Turgon and mother of Idril.

That is Maglor's kin.

And Maglor, who now works the most boring 9-to-5 teaching job in all of Eä, longs desperately for any kind of relative, whether they hate him or not.

So Maglor goes to the scientists, the elf that had evaded all suspicion of him being anything other than human, and wants to see his cousin. Of course, they ignore him; that is, until he shows them his ears and sings a haunting verse of the Noldolantë.

They let him inside and Elenwë sees him, speaking ancient Quenya.

"Where is my daughter, Makalaurë?" She demands. "Where is my husband?"

Maglor knows where Turgon and Idril are; they are in the Undying Lands, far, far away.

Maglor tells her, and Elenwë screams. Maglor, who has had hundreds of centuries to process his grief, tries to comfort her, but is dragged away by security. The scientists question him, and Maglor, who has not spoken of his family history in centuries, finally tells the story of burning ships, shining jewels, kidnapped twins, and the war that was supposed to end all wars.

Maglor, who is technically a citizen of whatever country this is, willingly allows himself to stay in the laboratory. He goes to Elenwë again, and after much screaming and weeping, tells her the story of a hidden city and a tortured son of Aredhel and all that followed.

Elenwë is distraught. Obviously. After, she knows that she needs to sail back to Valinor, Doomed or not. She WILL find her daughter and husband again, even if it means she has to cross the sea to do it.

After a few years, Elenwë is released to Maglor's care. She speaks the common tongue well, knows her history and geography, and, well, they can't keep a sentient being in a laboratory forever, now can they (A few want to. Maglor threads his voice with Song and they never speak of that idea again)?

Maglor returns to his job teaching at a university (he teaches linguistics and music theory) and helps Elenwë learn her way around the modern world.

"Yes, that picture is moving," Maglor explains. "No, it is not a palantír."

"I'm not stupid, Makalaurë," Elenwë hisses. She still has a shred of animosity in her heart for all the harm Maglor and his brothers had caused her family.

"And we don't list our genealogies when meeting new people," Maglor told her when Elenwë introduced herself to a bank teller and told them her lineage.

"I could tell by the look on his face, Makalaurë," Elenwë replied bitterly.

Elenwë always had the heater on, and Maglor could not blame her; millenia stuck in ice would make a person long for warmth.

One day, Elenwë points to the drawing on Maglor's mantle and asks, "Who is that?"

The ellon had lines on his forehead, just like her dear Turukano; she always said they were from dealing with Findekáno's oddity.

Maglor was hesitant. "That Itarillë's grandson, your great-grandson."

Elenwë is delighted to hear that her daughter found love in Beleriand, but there was something that Maglor did not tell her.

So he told her, of course; Elenwë always knew if he was lying. He told her about the fire-haired twins' death, the burning camp of refugees, and her grandson's children left at the hands of two kinslayers.

"And love grew between them," Maglor told her. "They were Elrond and Elros, and... I see them as my sons."

Elenwë wanted to be angry. Scream at her cousin for causing so much grief for her daughter's family, but she couldn't. Makalaurë was oathbound to find that silmaril, but he still sought to do good.

"He sailed with Galadriel, Artanis as you know her, a few Ages ago," Maglor said. "He was as kind as summer."

After a while, Elenwë got her own job, an apartment nearby. She gets a degree and finds a stable job. She lives by the coast, like Maglor, and feels the sea tug on her heart every time she hears the rushing waves.

Then, Elenwë buys a boat.

Elenwë buts a boat and asks Maglor to go with her.

"It has been millenia, Makalaurë," she says. "Will you not go to Valinor? Will you leave your family thinking you are dead?"

Maglor refuses. He thinks that he cannot leave Middle Earth. "I am Doomed, Elenwë, but do not let my choices prevent you from going. See your husband, your daughter, your grandchildren and so on. Do not dwell on the past as I have, Elenwë."

"You hypocrite of hypocrites!" Elenwë cries. "You tell me to go and see my child when you will not go and see yours?"

Maglor goes with her.

He takes his favorite pillow, his silver harp made by his father, Maedhros's copper circlet, Elros's wooden toy horse, and leaves behind a copy of the Noldolantë.

Elenwë and Maglor sail.

They think that they will aimlessly wander the Sundering Seas, but they are wrong. Eru smiles at them, and they see the banks of Tol Eressëa. The dock is long gone, but homes dot the sandy shores, still littered with pearls and white gems.

Maglor and Elenwë sail, and they are welcomed.

Maglor is welcomed by six brothers, all released from Námo's halls. He is welcomed by a guilty father, who begs for his son's forgiveness on his knees. He is welcomed by a grieving mother, who had never thought she would see her son again.

He is welcomed by a son that was not his, and a daughter-in-law that looks suspiciously like Galadriel.

Elenwë is welcomed by a husband who has grieved for millenia, who is guilty for not saving her. She is welcomed by her daughter, now grown, and a human man she calls her husband. She is welcomed by a woman with bird-like features, who is her granddaughter-in-law. She is welcomed by her great-grandson, whose picture sat on Makalaurë's mantle for all the time she'd been in Middle Earth.

Maglor returns to his family. He is not exiled, or Doomed to the Everlasting Darkness. He is called home for tea and to play games with his brothers. He is not a ghost story to tell children on rainy nights. He is not a warning to those provoked to anger. He is an elf; an elf who wanted to go home.

Elenwë returns to her family. She is not a casualty listed among the fallen of Helcaraxë. She is not a wife who was not named. Elenwë lives.

Elenwë lives, and she was not forgotten.