Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Celebrimbor had done his best to defend Eregion once news of Sauron arriving with his army had come. He knew that he was unlikely to win against the Maia, but he did not intend to go down without a fight. As the Elf got some help to get his armor on, his eyes fell on a locked door which only he held the key to.

“I will be right back, just need a few moments alone,” he said to the servants, who hurried away to arm themselves now when their Lord was ready.

Celebrimbor sighed deeply as he opened the door and entered the room. Was it really only just yesterday he had been doing the monthly dusting and airing inside here all by his own? A full day and night since then, which felt more like a century or more.

Caressing a dwarven-styled dress of green silk where it was set up on a doll model, he could almost feel a very faded scent of incense in the fabric. A similar touch on various jewelry in silver and emeralds, laying on soft silk pillows in boxes on tables.

He picked up something from the last box, smaller than the others, which  contained a single long braid of thick, white-blond hair.

“Narvi...please, give me strength to survive this mes which I am about to pay for…” he whispered, kissing the braid with the imagination that it was his Dwarven wife's mustache-covered lips, before he gently braided it into his own hair. If Celebrimbor were to die today, he wanted to do it with something of his wife close to him as a small comfort.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In the halls of the Forefathers, Narvi could not shake off the nagging feeling that something was wrong. Terrible wrong. She could feel in the very stones which build up those Halls for the Dwarven race in the afterlife, something which pulled on her, calling to her. And it did not seem to help by working on this spiritual version of the Doors of Durin she had kept herself busy with lately. Oh, how she longed for the helpful hands of Celebrimbor at times, both at work and for other things only happening between a married couple!  

“Sis, do you want some fresh bread buns as a snack later when I have made them at the bakery?” her younger sister Loki called, as she was getting herself ready for another working day. No one really knew where food and similar items came from, but given how it played a such big part of their daily life while being in the living world, perhaps it was best to not ask.

“Those with chicken and herbs, I will waste energy on this monster alone.”

She only said so, because it took so much longer time to fix the Doors without a partner. Sure she could have asked a fellow Dwarven stonemason, but it would not feel the same. If she wanted help, it was from her Elven husband.

There it was again, the feeling of danger who only grew louder like the sound of when a cave-in was about to happen. This time, Narvi gave up any attempt of working further and set her hand on the Fëanorian star which served as the centerpiece of the flush stone doors.  

“Mellon. ”  

The silver Mithril under her hand shone up as a sign of the command to open. She was needed in the living world, and her Elven husband needed her right now.

Not many minutes after that Narvi had left for the living world, her mother Ala arrived there.

“....and I think we need your view on that robe I have made for...Narvi? Narvi, where are you?! Balder! Amad'dli Frigga! Narvi is missing!! ”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The whole city was burning around him, the remaining Elven soldiers doing their best to fight back yet they would all soon fall and join their comrades in the Halls of Mandos unless they were captured alive. Celebrimbor himself struggled to keep himself still on his feet, the cut against his dominant left arm had almost cost him the whole arm above the elbow. Even if he was used to use his right hand or even both hands thanks to being trained by Maedhros so long ago in the First Age, he knew that he was in serious disadvantage against the orcs of Mordor now.

“No! If they captures me, they will bring me to Sauron!”

He knew that Sauron would do anything to make him reveal where the Rings of Power was hidden, even torture him slowly and not allowing him to die before he told him that information. And a such fate was not how Celebrimbor planned to die.

“Catch the Elf Lord!!” a growling voice screamed behind him, a group of orcs tearing apart the stone wall he had been hiding behind.

Not good, if he stayed here, he was bound to be found before he could escape. He had no time to bind up the bleeding wound.

Narvi tried to hurry as fast as she could against Eregion. While it was far easier to just flow in the air, without the weight of a body of flesh and blood, she kept herself close to the ground out of habit from life. It alarmed her greatly to see the heavy pillars of smoke and the light of a huge fire in the distance.

“Celebrimbor…..please do not be there!” she silently pleaded as she kept running.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

But Celebrimbor had not managed to escape. Rather, he had been unlucky to be chased right into a trap, where several large orcs had caught him. Now being forced to kneel on the ground, his arms held painfully behind his back, Celebrimbor could do nothing as Sauron came up. Perhaps to mock the Elf, he wore the disguise of Annatar but his voice was the one Celebrimbor had heard when Sauron had finished crafting the One Ring, which rested on a finger:

“Tried to escape, Celebrimbor? Well, I expected that to happen, so I ordered some extra numbers of soldiers with the task of finding you alive. Now, I believe that there is a few secret I want to hear from your lips….”

In a act of defiance, Celebrimbor spit Sauron in the face.

“I would rather die than reveal where the Rings are!” he snarled, a death glare in his eyes worthy that of his paternal family.

“Ah ah, watch what you are saying. I have some ways to loosen that tongue of yours…..!?”

Suddenly a small, bright green light flashed between them, enough bright to temporary blind the Dark Lord for a short moment as it it went though Celebrimbor. But when Sauron focused on Celebrimbor again, the Elven body had gone limb and there was no breathing from his lips or even a heart beat.

“What?! What kind of…?!”

Yet the green light had not vanished far enough in the distance, so Sauron rearranged himself from a body into a spirit, to pick up the hunt on Celebrimbor's soul before it could enter the Halls of Mandos.  

Celebrimbor had no proper idea what had happened. One moment he had been held by the orcs, then suddenly feeling weightless. And someone was carrying him in a oddly familiar way….

“Narvi?! ” he gasped at seeing who it was. Yes, it was no one else than his Dwarrowdam wife, it was impossible to mistake that green-and-blue dress with the long white-blonde thick hair braid she always preferred to wear when working.

“Talk later, I need to focus on running right now!” she responded in that deep voice he had never thought that he might hear again outside his memories.

That was very true, since Sauron was chasing after them with a firm determination not to let them escape to safety.

Chapter Text

Inside the Halls of the Forefathers, Narvi's family was searching for her at all the places she could be found normally.    

“Surely she can not be that foolish, entering the living world as a spirit?! It is dangerous to do so!”       

Because there were a great many levels built so Dwarves with different professions could work without disturbing each other, they needed to be spread out.

“Hello, miss Loki, I thought that you had some time off right now…” a baker greeted, only to be confused as the younger Dwarrowdam rushed past his place at the table with kneaded bread doughs.  

“A certain sister of mine is not where I saw her last! Trying to find her, no time for talk!” Loki responded at turning around at the far dead end in the large bakery and running past him again.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Meanwhile Narvi was kept busy in trying to keep Celebrimbor away from Sauron who kept right on their rear.

“Just what is it with your family that draws unwanted attention from Dark Lords, really?! First your genius grandfather with those shiny gems of his, and then the generation of your father and his brothers trying so hard to defeat the Life-destroyer, and you getting involved with the Burning One?!”

Apparently, Celebrimbor was still a Fëanorian in heart despite disowning his family for their doomed Oath, given how offended his face looked.

“Those “shiny gems ” as my grandfather made, are the last remains of the two Trees of Valinor! They are priceless...whoa!” He was interrupted when Narvi jumped down in a small ravine to avoid a new attack from Sauron, who fully used his powers of fire in a attempt to stop them from getting away.

“This is not the right time for a quarrel, honey.”  

Placing her hand on the ground, Narvi showed that despite being a ghost, she still had the same connection to rocks and stone as in life so long ago. A gift unique to the Dwarves from Aulë. Like the tender hands of a mother, the rocks around them closed to form a barrier. As spirits they could escape without actually being trapped there and still hopefully fool Sauron. At the same time, she needed to avoid that Sauron followed after them to the Halls of the Forefathers, or she would land into even bigger trouble than what she would face at bringing Celebrimbor there.   

“Any plan outside trying to outrun him? No offensive to you, beloved, but I am in no shape to fight at the moment and you are no warrior...” Celebrimbor asked nervously, using his good arm to cover both their heads despite the rocks around, as he could feel how the air around them started to become warmer, as if a large fire was coming closer to their hiding place.    

“Yes, I am not foolish enough to rush around without backup plans. No, I am going to use that special danger system developed in the Halls, thanks to all the genius minds and craftsmen gathering there over the years. I think even your grandfather would be in awe of what we Dwarves have created there.”

Moving her hands to her left upper ear, Narvi touched a new piercing there which Celebrimbor did not recall from her living days, and turned its little decoration diamond 180 degrees which made it change into a red colour.

“Danger syst…?!”  

Suddenly, the heat from the fire became too much and she quickly picked up Celebrimbor, rushing away to avoid that they were hit. As she jumped behind another rock for cover, the fire went past them and all the way up to where the spiritual version of the Doors of Durin still was left open. In fact, some of the fire even went through the doors.   

“By the hammer of Mahal, that is gonna cause great alarm all over the Halls,” Narvi cursed in a mix of worry and frustration. Her worries only deepened when she saw that Sauron had summoned the spirits of some really nasty-looking, large orc warriors and trolls to help him capture Celebrimbor again. No, not just a few. A whole army, likely those who had been killed by the Elves in their desperate last stand.

“This is exactly that kind of situation when I wishes that my father and uncles was alive, if only for the sake of some help,” Celebrimbor admitted, knowing far too well that his wife's stone cutting tools to use in her craft as stonemason, gathered in her belt, was not ideal weapons now against enemies in full armor. And his own sword had been lost in the battle when he had been captured to be brought in front of Sauron, only a single dagger remained in his own belt.

“Quit talking and move unless you want to be burned!”

Without hesitation, Narvi pushed Celebrimbor out of the way of a new flame aimed at them both.   

~X~X~X~X~X~X

By now, words had spread about that Narvi had gone missing and friends of the Asar family helped them to search for her. Frigga even had gone to her old friend Freja, the paternal grandmother to Durin during his second life, to ask for a little help. Freja in turn had brought the request to Durin and his superior queen consort Eydís. As Durin and the other Fathers of the Dwarves was the Dwarves with the most important position in the sociality, it was only normal that they could be asked for help.  

“Lord Durin, there is a distress signal coming ín right now. Based on the number code, it is lady Narvi of the Asar family who went missing not even a hour ago from where her family saw her last,” someone reported from a seat at the long distance-messenger, the central one which was used for all levels in the Halls so everyone could hear a order.    

“I see. Eydís, gather some of your ladies and see if you can help finding the missing lady in quest…!?”

Durin never got to finish what he intended to ask his Queen consort, because in the next moment, the whole Halls shook like being hit of a earthquake, making everyone lose their balance and falling to the floor. Of course, the violent tremor caused the warning alarms to go off.

“That is the alarm for threats from the outside! Open up the map, we need to find where it could have entered our afterlife! And find where Narvi's distress signal came from!”

Her command was obeyed, and a map over the whole Halls was enlarged on the northern wall by some of the light technology which had been created there over the centuries.

“It came from somewhere close to the western direction, my Lords!”

However, Durin had a fair guess to why the alarm had started in the western part of the Halls.

“I have a bad feeling that this is related to what had been told by the newest arrivals from Khazad-dûm over the past months. Try and see if the number code for Narvi actually is outside the Halls, now!”

In return, they got a rather direct front image of Sauron chasing Narvi and Celebrimbor. Somehow, Durin was not surprised at all that the Dwarrowdam had been bold enough to leave the Halls to try and save the Elf Lord—their friendship was well known after all.

“Eydís, tell the soldiers to gather up in their battle positions in full armor and have the ram cavalry ready to lead the change. Since Celebrimbor gave me one of those Rings of Power not many years before I died in my latest life, I believe that Sauron will try and force him to tell exactly which Dwarves he gave the Rings to, most likely by torture or other painful ways! As a longtime Dwarf Friend, I refuse to have the silver-fisted Elf to suffer a such fate!”

Since Celebrimbor had been a well-known face for the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm even after that Narvi had died, no one questioned why Durin gave that order.

“You all heard the First Father, get yourself ready for battle and do not waste breath on protesting about Celebrimbor not being a Dwarf!” Eydís commanded, showing that while she was no warrior herself, she had trained herself to be a battle commander here in the Halls over the centuries while Durin was reborn in his next lives, studying how the following generations of Dwarves had developed the art of war. As no one wanted to get a tongue lashing from her for being lazy in a situation like this, everyone hurried to obey her orders.

“Tell the priests of Mahal to create their strongest prayer barrier they can do, that Maiarin traitor will not take a single step in here!”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Catching a sight of what her older sister and her Elven husband was facing, a plan started to form in Loki's mind.

“Give me the bridge for the merchant level! Request merchant Balder from the Asar family to be the receiver!” she ordered to a fellow Dwarf at the long distance-messenger station, knowing very well that her father was most likely to be found there.

Balder, who indeed was on that level in the Halls because that had been his craft in life, got a bit surprised when he was told that there was a call from his youngest daughter.  

“Adad! I have a possible idea to help Narvi and Celebrimbor escape, but I need permission from you and the chief merchants since you all would be really mad otherwise! ”

Making a face at first since she almost was shouting to be heard over the danger alarms around them both on the different levels, he asked in a more calm voice than what he actually felt on the inside:

“What is the plan, daughter of mine?”  

Somehow, he was not surprised at all when she revealed the idea.

“Shooting Sauron with the arrows from our smaller crossbows, with small bags filled with a extreme version of a “ Kiss from the East ”, aiming for his mouth. You know, like mixing the strongest spices we uses for that food dish from the Orocarni. ”

Balder knew which dish she was referring to. A really strong one in terms of seasoning, which only the most strong-willed Dwarves managed to eat without crying and feeling like their months was set on fire. Creating a really extreme version of it...   

“Loki, every Dwarf worth his axe knows that sometimes, food is going to be bland on long travels. And all spice merchants know that if we dare to use the spice for the food eaten on the journey between different markets, it is like eating up money we could have earned on selling it instead.”    

That was all the permission Loki needed for her idea, and he heard her footstep vanishing without even laying back the speaking horn.    

“You heard my lass, start gathering all the dry spices for a big order of “Kiss of the East ” and get them mixed so it can be added into small bags to be shot away! Add in our strongest chili powder for extra strength and heat!”

Chili was one of the most rarest spices, even for the East, and the secret of the pepper plants was guarded most carefully. Sauron would get a tasteful surprise when this was sent against him, and tears from the strong taste would be the last of his worries.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

One of the rare female warriors of the Dwarven race, named Brenna, was already getting herself dressed in armour, giving orders as she ran around to find her father. Her accent revealed that her origins was from Belegost in its glory days of the First Age.

“Adad, stop sitting there and get yourself in armour to lead the warriors who once was under your command!” she called to an older Dwarf sitting down at one of the long distance-messenger situations, used to call out orders and information across the Halls.  

“You took the Silmaril and threw yourself into a pit of lava to end your life? Maedhros, you really need to meet up with a few of our best therapists for your mental health after being a visitor of Morgoth!” Azaghâl muttered under his breath at what he heard in the head-phones, far from impressed over what his old friend had done. He was not fully sure how he got himself connected to the Halls of Mandos where the Elves had their afterlife, and even less how it had reached Maedhros of all people, but he refused to miss the chance of a quick talk when it was possible.    

“Adad!” Brenna shouted in annoyance over being ignored in a such important time as what was happening at the moment. To hear better what Maedhros attempted to say on the other end despite all the noise around him, Azaghâl raised the sound level a little bit.

“The noise over here? Just a signal for some minor battle training to keep us in shape. Elves from Ost-in-Edhil arriving in large number? That city your nephew is supposed to be ruling? No, no, no need for your father-named brother to worry about his silver-handed son, the lad is very finely protected by his wife at the moment since your brother has a daughter-in-law since a couple of centuries back.”   

“That is good to hear...hold on, Azaghâl, what did you just say about Celebrimbor? ”

Maedhros was interrupted by a shrill voice which could only belong to Curufin in one of the moments he proved himself to be really alike their father Fëanor:

“WHAT DAUGHTER-IN-LAW?! ”

Not wanting to waste time on explanations the Elves really should know themselves, Azaghâl cut off the messenger so he could join Brenna in arming himself for battle.      

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Frigga walked pretty calmly for a grandmother whose oldest granddaughter was in serious danger, avoiding and giving room for soldiers as they hurried past her in one of the corridors.  

“Excuse us, madam! We are in a bit of a hurry!” a younger soldier was kind enough to apologize as he led a few of his fellow warriors. Not that Frigga minded, this was a situation far from normal.

Finally she arrived at a large sewing chamber, where several Dwarves and even a few Dwarrowdams was busy with various stages of their craftsmanship of transforming fabric into clothing. Her daughter-in-law was one of the seamstresses.

“Ala, I believe if things goes well, a special guest of the family is likely going to need some new clothing because armour and only one set of clothes is not going to look impressive while recovering in the infirmary wings.”   

“Good thing that I can use my oldest daughter's height and add on roughly five feet of more fabrice for my unusual son-in-law. My pride as a seamstress would not allow me to have people talk about me neglecting to keep my son-in-law with proper clothes,” was all Ala commented in response, without even looking up from a burgundy-coloured everyday robe in plain cotton, which was noticeably longer than a normal robe for a Dwarf, even the rare ones who like Narvi was the tallest of their race.  

Only nodding in agreement, Frigga left the sewing chamber to search for her grandson, who most likely was with his fellow soldiers somewhere. Of all the three children born to her only son and his wife, the only grandson sadly had been cursed with the more unflattering traits of the Dwarf who once had caused so much trouble in her life by making her pregnant, and it was a beyond-lifelong task to make Odin stop taking after his detested grandfather. Really, it was a true blessing that both her granddaughters took after the rest of the family, or that Odin still just narrowly avoided to become the family member no one liked!

“As if he will be allowed to keep being rude about the husband of his oldest sister… she simply had a different taste in a spouse than what people is used to!” Frigga muttered for herself, planning to take out her own miniature crossbow. Just because the menfolk was the warriors and about to face Sauron, it did not meant that their women should stay behind. Narvi needed a little help in protecting her Elven husband, after all.               

Chapter Text

Getting your clothes on fire was annoying, even if she was quick to roll on the ground to pull the fire out before she got to many burns on her skin. And what was worse for Narvi, it ruined all the hard work and many hours Ala had spent making that work dress so her oldest daughter could feel pretty even when she worked as a stonemason in practical clothes!                                  

Celebrimbor could see on her face that Narvi was pissed. Not just because of how the fire had burned off some of her lovely hair and beard which he loved so dearly, but the fine clothes as well. He knew how much she had valured the work of her mother and had a fair guess who that had made the clothes she wore.

“That bastard would be given a huge fine for deliberate destruction of the work made by a well-known seamstress and trying to damage my public image if he was a Dwarf!”

Well, bastard was only one of many insults Sauron could be called, given his true nature. Things was not made better when the ghost army of orcs, wargs and trolls came closer to them, pressing the couple against a rock.

“One single to take care off, and you will be my guest for a little talk, Celebrimbor,” Sauron smiled, once again transforming into Annatar to mock him about how he had fallen for the sweet talks in the past.

“I would like to see anyone not be swayed by poisonous words, disguised as honeyed ones, in times of grief after losing a spouse, ” Celebrimbor growled back, looking very similar to his grandfather in that moment, though with a far more controlled fury over the betrayal from someone he had hoped to trust. Sauron snorted, clearly not thinking that the Elf was serious about his relationship with Narvi. Feelling the ground tremble in a different manner behind her, where her hand was on the rock so her stone sense was feeling any differences in the stone, Narvi grabbed hold of her husband's hair as if preventing him from doing anything stupid.  

“We are getting company, silver husband.”

In the next moment, the sound of a huge number of Dwarven war horns was heard blown from the mountain behind them, and then at least three times a dozen war chariots manned by four dwarves each and pulled by teams of six rams revealed themselves attacking the orc army in the rear from behind, followed by uncalculated Dwarves mounted on armored goats as the heavy cavalry. Following right after, heavy infantry was arriving and ready for battle.

“What?!”

Sauron was so taken by surprise over seeing the unexpected Dwarven army, that he failed to see Narvi taking the chance of using one of the oldest tricks in term of dirty fighting; throwing a fistful of dirt and sand into his eyes.

“Come on, Celebrimbor!”

He did not protest as Narvi dragged him along, the faster they got away from Sauron, the better.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back inside the Halls of the Forefathers, almost all the gathered soldiers had left to join the battle. Those who remained inside were civilians and common people.  

“Have the infirmary ready for wounded returners! We may not die in this battle, but recovery from serious injuries are still unpleasant to deal with, both back in life and here in death!”

Few of the present Dwarves doubted that, many of them had been soldiers in life or seen the result of war, so they knew what to do. At least this time, they did not need to fear about their loved ones dying in battle.

“Loki, hurry up! I am not waiting on you for much longer!!” Frigga called, already standing in one war chariot that had not been sent out yet. Her youngest granddaughter was heard somewhere between the other Dwarves as she had to press herself between them, loudly cursing over that dying so young as she had, had stunted her growth here in the Halls and thus made her look younger than her older siblings. The long time spent in the Halls had given Loki the intellect of a much, much older Dwarf, but it was sadly crammed into a still late-adolescent body with all the troubles of that age.

“I bloody HATE being this small!! ”

And naturally there was someone else searching for her as well.

“FRIGGA!! Wait, wait, wait just a moment before you and Loki leaves!”

Kóri, the sweet, hard-working librarian to husband she never had in life but had been blessed with here in the Halls after her death, came running towards the chariot, out of breath with his glasses almost off his nose and his small bag filled with books at his side as always.   

“Try and drive on the outside of the battle so you have some free space to move around in, Narvi would never risk to harm her Elf more than what is needed, especially with that kind of enemy that want him….”

“I waited for 200 years to bring the House of Frost down with the help of my own family, I know what I am doing, honey.”  

“I am here, grandma!” Loki called as she finally managed to get over to the chariot, carrying a large amount of small bags in her belt alongside a well-used rolling pin and even a a clever had been grabbed, before saying:

“The rest of the spice mix have been given to the soldiers who are defending the upper walls with catapults, to ensure that no orcs or trolls under Sauron comes one single step closer to the Halls!”  

Kóri did not even bother to ask what Loki had planned now, they needed to get out to get Narvi and Celebrimbor to safety. He was no warrior, but he knew the art of organization very well thanks to his chosen work and could help out those in control.

“See you soon, gramps!” Loki said as Frigga drove away with the chariot, and earned a minor scolding from her husband over that she almost crushed his foot under one of the large wheels.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

A new war horn sounded, and reinforcements led by Eydís and Freja went out from the Halls. Following slightly behind, several other Dwarrowdams in armor also went out. While they were rare, this was a situation where everyone agreed that they had to protect one of theír fellow females.

“Follow the Queens!! ”

Sauron naturally ignored that, and kept chasing Celebrimbor and Narvi in the outside of the battle. He wanted to catch the Fëanorian descendant before his army was all wiped out, a fate which became more and more clear the more Dwarves that came out.

“If it is one thing Aulë was good on, it was to create those unnatural pests that never belonged in the Song anyway!”

Celebrimbor knew that Sauron likely said so to antagonize Narvi, trying to make her become reckless, because the Dwarven race as a whole was rather sensitive to that kind of comments because they had not originally been created by Eru Ilúvatar like Elves and Men.

“And you are a eternal shame for our Maker, betraying him to follow the Great Enemy!!” Narvi shot back over her shoulder without letting go of Celebrimbor as they aimed to take cover in a cave they had spotted, referring to one of the many names Morgoth had been given by the Elves and Men in the First Age because saying his own name was viewed as bad luck for anyone who spoke it.

“How about a little roasting, then? In honor of my Master!”

Using a mace to hit Narvi, he had enough strength to forcefully making them let go of each other's hand.

“Narvi!”

Celebrimbor saw in horror as his wife fell over the edge of a cliff, a similar look of terror on her face. Not because she could die, but that it left him facing Sauron alone. A second hit with the mace, aimed at himself this time, sent Celebrimbor almost flying into the cave.

Having expected to fall down straight mong a pack of orcs really to try and kill her, Narvi instead had the unexpected luck of landing almost straight down on a couple of old friends from her life in Khazad-dûm, just as they rode past on two war goats of their own.    

“Ow! Had you been a orc you would have been slain at once by Hinata, Narvi!” a red haired Dwarrowdam complained on the ground while Narvi got off her, having knocked her out of the saddle. The two friends in question was no one else than Ragnhild, the wife of Durin back in his second life, and Hinata, the shared lover of them both from that life. Familiar faces, which Narvi had known so well for 150 years and seen again in the afterlife.

“Before you wonder what we are doing out here when none of us are warriors, simple answer; we wanted to help rather than remain inside the Halls and worry about our sons,” Hinata said, pointing towards the battle chaos where their respective sons from Durin had to be somewhere.

“Do me a big favor and lend me that goat to ride! I have to prevent that Maia-Traitor from taking Celebrimbor back to his body and make him suffer until that he reveals where those blasted Rings of Power are!” Narvi almost screamed, worrying that it could already be too late to save her husband.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As he landed hard against the cave floor and the back wall in high speed, Celebrimbor knew from the pain that several ribs had been broken and that his already injured left arm was now broken in two places. If he still had been in a body and not a spirit, it could have become a fatal hit that had killed him despite his good armor.  

“Time to stop playing around, Celebrimbor. We have a talk to do...when you are back in your body of flesh and blood.”

Much to Celebrimbor's growing abhorrence among all the fear, Sauron bent down slightly while holding his face in one hand, as if he intended to give him a kiss in a mocking show of affection.

“Keep your tainted hands off MY HUSBAND!! ”

Sauron turned around against the opening of the cave, where Narvi was seen in the saddle of a war goat, looking like she really wanted nothing else than mash his face in with the battle hammer she had picked up.

“As if any Elf ever would find anything fair about a creature that belongs to the stunted race, especially as no one can see which gender they belongs to. How Aulë could make a such mistake is beyond any common sense.”    

Remarkably, Narvi managed to stay calm, even if Celebrimbor knew that furious look in her eyes; Sauron was going to eat his poorly-chosen words rather quickly. He had known his wife for about 200 years after all, nearly all her natural life, only a fool would fail to pick up the various small signs of mood change on a Dwarf over that time.  

“The correct way to address a married Dam like me is MISTRESS Narvi!! GET HIM, GIRLS!!! ”

And as one at her call, a large group of Dwarrowdams jumped down from hidden places in the upper parts of the large cave as Narvi made her war goat run straight at Sauron, who had only a moment to realize the danger before he was thrown to the cave floor by the united weight of the Dwarrowdams, drowning under their attack and weapons.

“A fine taste of powerful ladies, there….” Celebrimbor smirked at the sight where Sauron had dropped him, wishing to laugh though his injuries hurt too much for that. Somehow, it was no surprise at all to see Narvi pull her out of the beating of Sauron and gently pulling him away from it.

“Narvi! Narvi, over here!” someone called from the outside of the cave, revealing to be Frigga and Loki in the war chariot the grandmother still drove like it was something she did every day.

“No Odin to whisper death threats at Celebrimbor for “being unsuitable” as my husband for being a Elf?” Narvi allowed herself to ask as she and Loki pulled up Celebrimbor in the chariot together.  

“Queen Eydís was “kind” enough to remind him of how he died; a badly-chosen comment about Dams and their duty of marriage that led to someone knocking him out with a heavy item against his skull. He never woke up from that bar fight, after all,” Frigga responded, making Narvi roll her eyes in annoyance in how that had happened, a rather shameful way of dying.

“Hurry! Drive away!”

It was in the last moment, as Sauron managed to get out of the cave, though at the cost of looking very bruised and less fair as he escaped, the other Dwarrowdams had gotten very good hits on him.   

~X~X~X~X~X~X   

Out in the battlefield, Azaghâl showed why he had been a such good warrior back in the First Age, when his daughter arrived in an war chariot she was driving.

“Adad! I think you would love to prevent Maedhros' nephew to fall into the claws of the person who once harmed your friend!”

Spotting Sauron chasing the chariot where three of the ladies from the Asar family was, and how the youngest daughter gave the Maia a firsthand lesson in how painful it was to be hit straight in the eye with a hairpin followed by a similar attack with a meat cleaver on his hands from Narvi just as he attempted to grab hold of Celebrimbor by coming really close to the chariot, was enough to make his choice. Hopefully Sauron had lost a finger or two from that, or at least got a heavy bleeding that just maybe could reveal itself on his body as well as result.

“Drive on, steel dancer!” he requested, using his old nickname for her, and she obeyed the request.

Frigga had taken up goat driving here in the afterlife, and had became pretty skilled on it over the long centuries since her passing. Her two granddaughters struggled a little with keeping the chariot even in sharp turns, or avoiding that Celebrimbor fell off the chariot when she needed to avoid hitting things.

“Hold your sister still!”  

Grabbing hold of her belt, Narvi saw Loki aim her small crossbow, trying to keep it steady against Sauron's face despite that the narrow floor area of a war chariot would make it harder for a good aim. Since the Maia had not wasted time in pulling out the hair pin from his ruined eye, he was not that good-looking at the moment. 

“Have a taste of the far off East!! Extra strong, all for you! ”

A small bolt went off as Loki pressed the trigger, a tiny bag tied to it. As Sauron had his mouth open in a snarl, the bolt went straight into his mouth. Based on his shocked reaction, he just realized that something was not really right, just before the full strength of the spice mix revealed itself. Collapsing down on his knees as it became even worse with his own fire powers, Sauron felt himself short of breath and trying hard to not start crying. Focused as he was on the spice mix, he failed to notice a incoming danger from behind:  

“Here is a belated greeting from Maedhros, you LEASING-MONGER!!”

Turning the war chariot around pretty sharply, Brenna used the  counterclockwise-rolling welded glaives on the large rear wheels to incapacitate Sauron, cutting off his left leg in a sea of blood. Because the sudden pain was so overwhelming, Sauron failed to avoid the next injury which came almost at the same time and Azaghâl knocked Sauron face down into the ground by using his favored Dwarven war axe in the back of the Maia's head.

“Turn back! Turn back to the Halls, all of you!” several voices ordered, it was Durin and his fellow Fathers of the Dwarves who drove around in their own war chariots and tried to gather up all the soldiers, wanting to avoid that something got wrong.

“Do not let victory go to your heads, lads! Come on!”

As the Dwarven soldiers obeyed the order and began to return, Sauron attempted to recreate his leg, then realized that this time, Celebrimbor was indeed slipping away further and farther out of his reach to catch, all thanks to the Dwarves. Finding where he had hidden the Rings of Power, seemed to become even more impossible than earlier thought.

“YOU WILL NOT ESCAPEEEEEEEEE!!! ”

But this last, desperate attempt to catch Celebrimbor was ruined, as the soldiers standing on the upper walls with catapults sent off the few final shots with the spice mix, aimed at him and almost drowned Sauron in a yellow-orange cloud as it hit him and the last soldiers hurried past a protective barrier, created by the priests, a safe distance from the opening in the Halls where they first had came out. And to add insult to injury, Narvi took the small crossbow from her sister as Frigga stopped the chariot so they faced Sauron and sent off a small arrow with the words:

“Sometimes rock wins over fire!! Born from stone, we can turn things into beauty while fire is destructive, like you!! ”

The arrow hit Sauron in the throat, making him fall fall back as the large doors of stone was sealed shut and vanishing from the living world, ensuring that he could not follow after.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

A silence laid over the Halls at first, when the doors had been shut, before various people started to bark out orders and direct people to different places for removing their armour and look for injuries.

“A good shot there, Narvi. That should teach him to not touch your husband again. And a very good idea with the spice, Loki,” Frigga praised with pride. However, a groan of pain caught their attention. In fact, when looking down, they discovered that Celebrimbor now was barely conscious, and that there was a alarming large puddle of blood from him on the chariot floor.

“Why did you not say anything earlier, your idiot?!” Narvi cried out in terror, seeing just how pale he was for someone in a spiritual state thanks to the blood loss. Thankfully, someone was quick enough to get a stretcher, so Celebrimbor could be carried to the healers in the infirmary. Narvi was taken there as well, to treat the burns she had gotten from the fire Sauron had tried to use on her.

As her hands, arms, upper body and legs was wrapped with bandage to protect the burns while they healed, her mood got sour again because of someone she did not want to meet or have to listen on, right now.

“Narvi! Narvi, have you any idea what you have done?!”

She rolled her eyes, of course it had to be Odin and his narrow-minded view on things.

“Exposing our afterlife to that traitor and risk getting your very soul eased out of existence, all for a bloody, faithless Elf?! Whatever bewitchment he put you under, I will have him remove so you can finally be nor...”

Odin did not get a chance to finish his ranting, mainly because all the present family members joined Narvi in shutting him up; Narvi proved that she still was able to break his nose despite her hand being bandaged, Loki used her rolling pin on a area sensitive for all males no matter what race they belonged to, while Kóri had sneaked up and handed his wife a book to knock out her insufferable grandson with from behind.

“That's it. The barracks for the city guards will be his all-time home until that he finally learns some humility and begs both you and Celebrimbor for your forgiveness on his knees,” Frigga muttered, dragging Odin out from the room by a foot, while Loki took the other foot to help her grandmother. Once the two Dams was away down the corridor to deliver Odin to the barracks with the rest of his personal belongings from the Asar household, Kóri said:

“That reminds me… Mahal wishes to talk with you, Narvi. It seems like he have just learnt what happened today. You know, Durin and the other Fathers have to tell him if there is anything unusual happening here in the Halls.”

“Rather a scolding from Mahal about me being reckless than having to hear people saying that it is impossible for Celebrimbor to be my husband by both Elven and Dwarf laws when it comes to marriage,” she responded, dressing herself in a newer dress Loki somehow had found time to bring for her and braiding her hair into her commonly seen braided bun again. The burnt parts of her hair and beard had carefully been trimmed away by the healer, and it would soon be back once it all had grown back after a few months. Her step-grandfather nodded in agreement, promising to keep Odin away if he tried to show his face around again, and her parents would soon come for checking on her as well, they simply had been needed somewhere else for the moment.   

Celebrimbor was still under the power of a careful dose of painkillers and sedatives when she quickly checked in the room where he had been placed, but at least now he had gotten his injured cared for and covered with a extra warm quilt so he would not be freezing due to his armour and clothing being taken away, a loincloth was good for modesty but not much for warming the whole body.

“I will be back soon. Loki promised to make some nice broth for you so you can recover your strength better,” she said with a kiss on his forehead. More time with him was to be later, now she had a meeting with her creator to deal with. Though Narvi did not fear that Aulë would be really mad on her for saving Celebrimbor, every Dwarf here in the Halls knew much saddened he was by sauron leaving his service to follow Morgoth and perhaps the Smith Vala secretly desired to hammer his former servant down for that betrayal.

Chapter Text

Normally Narvi felt honored whatever she was summoned to the one place in the Halls of the Forefathers where her Maker would await a summoned Dwarf, working at his own anvil.                     

“Just admit that you are angry on me for exposing our Afterlife, all because of the non-Dwarven husband who I did not want to fall into the hands of the Betrayer Maia,” she spoke out aloud, while she entered. 

“ And why should I be angry for evidence of such faithfulness between two spouses? You just said the reason by yourself, that you did not want him to fall into the hands of Mairon, ” the deep voice of Aulë responded, a fond smile on his face as he turned around to face one of his Stone Daughters.  

Narvi was still not convinced. For all of that she thankfully had never met Sauron when alive, only fleetingly here in the afterlife, it had hurt to hear him call the Dwarven race something which should not exist, that Aulë had done a mistake by creating them. And it was a indirect attack aimed on her as well, for how she always had remained in Celebrimbor's heart long after her death, with Sauron never getting the same influence in his disguise as Annatar. Her passing had left a void for Celebrimbor about someone who he could trust wholeheartedly, which Sauron had tried to take advantage of yet found himself blocked by the marriage bond which still tied Celebrimbor to Narvi though their souls. 

“ As if that betrayer have any right to try and steal my husband away from me in that way…! ”   

Aulë smiled for himself. The marriage bond between Narvi and Celebrimbor was indeed strong, and not only because of how their souls had been joined just like it normally happened in a Elven marriage, Dwarves were fiercely loyal to those they became spouses to, even in the rare cases where it was more than two Dwarves who married. Durin in his second life was a good example, he had not been blind for the unmistakable love between Ragnhild and Hinata which had formed as he tried to find his future Queen consort, or even forcing one of them to choose between him and the other Dwarrowdam. Instead he had wed them both, making Ragnhild his Queen and Hinata a legal concubine, even if that was a custom falling out of use after his second life because of a slightly changed view on polygamy marriages and a rather justified fear of possible sibling rivalry between children born from different mothers over the legacy from the shared father.   

“ I am glad that you chose to save him. For there is no doubt that he would have faced a slow, horrible death in the hands of Sauron. ”

Then Aulë placed a large palm on her head. For a moment, Narvi felt as if she was a having a vision of some kind, and it was horrible enough to make her collapse down on the stone floor as her anger towards Sauron was replaced with horror, trembling in abhorrence as she tried to not have her breakfast leave her body same way as it had entered.   

“Is that...what…?”

She could not bring herself to say the words, for it would feel too real then. It was like a scene from among her worst nightmares, from when she had gotten a unintended glimpse of his memories from the First Age, and the horrors he had witnessed. Celebrimbor had nearly hysterically apologized when he realized what had happened on those thankfully rare nights in their marriage, somehow acting as if he had done something unseemly despite that they had not known how the marriage bond would really work between them due to being of different races.   

“ What would have been his fate, had you not saved him. ”

This time she really had to try her best to not stress vomit in horror. Had she not answered his the unconscious desire to have her by her side again….

“ Yes. Even a single small action can change the flow of events. ”

He hated to see her horrified reaction on it, but Aulë had gotten the vision from Namo, an unspoken message of how things had changed thanks to Narvi, and wanted her to know of what could have been otherwise.

“I….I need...must see him…!” 

Still pale from the horror she had felt only moments ago, Narvi struggled to get back up on her feet. She had to be close to Celebrimbor, to see that he still was here in the Halls of the Forefathers and not snarched away by some foul trick from Sauron. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In the infirmary, Celebrimbor had now woken up from the heavy sleep caused by the painkillers and sedatives from earlier. He still felt awfully sore in the places where he had been injured by Sauron, but otherwise he insintictly could feel that he was in a much safer place. 

“Nice to see that you have woken up just in time to taste on the broth I promised sister to give you so you can regain your strength.” 

The dark skin and white blonde hair of the young Dwarrowdam at his side revealed a close kinship to Narvi, with only the black eyes as main difference. Had she been standing with her back to her Elven brother-in-law, it would not be the first time the Asar sisters had been mistaken for each other. 

“....thank you, Loki.” Celebrimbor said, allowing her to help him drink the broth from a mug. It was a strong taste, but warm. It was a little strange, Celebrimbor had to admit, to see her again. Especially with Loki dying at a such young age that Navi's maturity could very well have created a rift between them in the afterlife because Narvi had lived nearly 190 years without her beloved little sister at her side. 

Apparently his thoughts must have been visible on his face, for Loki said:

“I am not jealous on my sister for living to old age! When not our own healers or even master Elrond could do a operation to remove that blasted tumor in my brain without risking that I could very well die from the blood loss or any other complication that can happen when doing a operation on a such sensitive area, it simply was no other choice than to accept my fate! Besides, grandmother Frigga was the one to ease my pain when I grew more ill, remember?”

Oh, Celebrimbor could remember that very well. The news of Frigga giving her youngest grandchild a mercy killing by slipping a overdose of painkillers in their tea, and most likely also killing herself to not be burden for her widowed daughter-in-law or the two older grandchildren sired by her son.  

“Surely it must still have been... awkward when you learned about her marrying me, right?”

Again the sibling similarity was shown when Loki made a “are you kidding me?” face just like Narvi would do. 

“As if my sister's very unusual choice of husband is anything we could protest, when basically all of us already was here in the Halls when you two married. Besides, grandma's tarot cards at her birth did tell that Narvi was going to marry someone with royal blood, but there was no other hints about age, place in the succession or anything else!”  

Celebrimbor realized at once what Loki meant. After all, his grandfather Fëanor had been the Crown prince of the Noldor until the Darkening of Valinor, and then was the High King of the exiled Noldor for a very brief time before dying in battle.

“Celebrimbor!” 

It was Narvi's worried voice from the door, and she arrived in a hurry, breathing heavy as if she had been running. But she did not stop, instead she nearly sent Celebrimbor over the edge of the bed as she pushed herself close to him, holding him tightly.

“Mind his ribs, sis. You do not want to cause him more pain, right?” Loki grinned over her shoulder, sneaking out of the room to give the married couple some privacy. 

But Celebrimbor could tell that something was different, from the way Narvi held him close around his waist. As if Narvi first now had allowed herself to feel affected by Sauron's attempt to crush her self-confidence long enough to create an opening. 

“I am sorry for that he used some of those unpleasant words about the Stone Children that others has thrown towards them over the Ages…” 

“ Keep talking, but not about such unpleasant things. ”  

Ok, that was a bad sign of whatever she felt. So Celebrimbor kept talking about one subject Narvi always had both enjoyed and gotten a tiny dose of bemusement from.

“Elrond and Celebrian still have not married yet despite that it is nearly seven-hundred years since I last saw them when alive?! Surely it is high time for them to do that step, though I can imagine that with Sauron around, Elrond would rather not leave her a widow.”

Celebrimbor took a chance to drink some water from a easily-to-reach placed glass of water from the table next to the bed. 

“Most likely, especially given his own family history with marriages in times of war.” 

He did not need to mention the feud between his family and the royal family of Doriath, all over a Silmaril, Narvi had heard the tale before during the time they had been married in her mortal life. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Over the coming days, Celebrimbor focused on healing enough much so he could be given a tour in the Halls of the Forefathers. And what a wonder it was, to see how they had carefully separated the Halls to look like the various Dwarven realms in the living world, so everyone could chose where to live when arriving to the afterlife. 

But some families, like the Asar family, had homes in different parts of the Halls, a symbol of moving and starting a new life somewhere. 

“Well, how do you find this version of my childhood home?” Narvi asked with pride, as she showed him around in the spiritual parts of the Orocarni, where he for the first time in his life could feel how a desert could feel in the air. 

“It is lovely, filled with warmth and family love, and I finds it fully understandable that you sometimes suffered from homesickness under the winters. Now I regret even more that we never got a chance to travel south to the Orocarni while the times was still peaceful.”

“As if I would have gotten permission, even from the royal family, to travel with someone who was not a blood relative or through marriage. Recalling how we first met?” Narvi spoke, pressing herself against him as if supporting him if he got tired. But Celebrimbor had not failed to realize a unspoken meaning with the... very boldy-made eastern dress she was wearing today. It looked like one of the dresses she would wear in belly dancing, and there was little doubt about that it was also meant to seduce him. 

The way she clearly allowed him a look down on her bosom that was not hidden by the silk fabric and the very makeup she had worn at their secret wedding, told everything for Celebrimbor about what she desired for them to do once he had healed enough for a such pleasure in bed. Oh well, something for him to look forwards too, as well. The Elf Lord had greatly missed being ridden by his Dwarven wife, though that was not the biggest pleasure with her he missed since her death. 

That aside, it was also a joy to once again meet Dwarves who once had been allies or friends with his uncles back in the First Age. 

“Ye found yourself a nice lass to marry, lad! You make a striking couple, when with yourself currently injured!” 

Given that they were the first known Elven-Dwarf marriage, Celebrimbor knew that he and Narvi would face a lot of vastly different comments. Some Dwarves simply could not see what she saw in him because he was not of the same race, those who had dealt with Elves though trade or alliances in war viewed it as a good way to remind people of the First Age when Celebrimbor's paternal family had been allied with Belegost. 

Some of the Priests of Mahal flat out said that if it was the Will of their Maker to make the Elf Lord and the Dwarrowdam fall in love, then it simply was fated to happen. Once again the mention of the friendship between Maedhros and Azaghâl. 

“Well, Celebrimbor, there is no way of predicting what will happen to the Rings of Power which you created, but there is no doubt that your own intents with them were honest at the start.” 

At least Durin tried to cheer him up, even when Celebrimbor confessed that he feared what Sauron would do with the rings once he found them. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The following day, Narvi had decided to show him something very important. 

“And this is how I entered the living world from here!”

Celebrimbor had to stop his very threatening tears at the familiar sight of the Doors of Durin. So many memories linked to the real ones, like the night of their wedding and other wonderful things…

“Come down here, you overgrown tree of a master smith.” 

Obeying her order, Celebrimbor knelt on one knee so she could easy reach him. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, just as it so often had happened in life. As they broke apart for breath, he looked at the Doors again. 

“If you managed to enter the living world to save me, who knows where the Doors can lead to another time?” 

Narvi smirked at him.

“It would not hurt to check one time, and not make it a habit.”

He nodded. 

“ Mellon. ”

At the password, the stone doors began to open. At first look, it seemed to be the darkness of Khazad-dûm in the mining areas where no lamps was lit after work. Yet the faint wind somehow felt different. 

Then, a tall shape could be hinted in the distance, possessing a hair colour which Celebrimbor had grown up with among his own family. 

“ Maedhros?! ” 

Chapter Text

“Maedhros?!”         

The oldest child of Fëanor, as well the only daughter among his seven offspring, had honestly not imagined to suddenly hear the voice of her only nephew behind her. Turning around, she saw him standing there...with a Dwarrowdam of all people. 

“Telperinquar…?” 

She did not get to ask more, before two new voices was heard too. That of young Elflings: 

“Lady Maedhros!” 

“Great-grandfather Thingol plans one of those hunts of your family again now when lord Námo and lady Vairë are away on a meeting with the other Valar!” 

Two silver-haired, near identical Elflings had shown up. It was only by their clothing that Narvi could guess them to be boys. Of course, they got a similar reaction as Maedhros at spotting Narvi beside Celebrimbor. But she was quick to bend down slightly to place her remaining hand and stump over their mouths before they could say anything rude. 

“Yes, a member of the Dwarven race. No, not one of the Dwarves who killed your great-grandfather...right, nephew?”   

Celebrimbor made a quick nod at the last part, understanding how important it was to separate the Dwarves who had slain Thingol from others, since that event hardly improved how some Elves was going to view innocent Dwarves who had nothing to do with that at all. 

“No, mylady, I am born in the distant East long after that Beleriand fell for the waves,” Narvi said in near perfect Sindarin, realizing what Maedhros tried to tell the Elven twins. 

“Nephew, exactly what have you been doing during all those years?” Maedhros wondered with a dry smile, letting Eluréd and Elurín listen to what they said but somehow made the boys keep silent with a glare. 

Sadly, before Celebrimbor could answer with more details about things here in the Second Age, they heard the sound of what sounded like many people in a large group. 

“Aunt, are atar and my uncles close-by, or did you spit up in a attempt to break up the numbers of people from Doriath?” 

“Great-grandfather started it not long before we came now,” one of the boys responded. No matter what they did now, it would not be viewed with kind eyes if Eluréd and Elurín was found around Maedhros, despite that they sometimes occasionally looked for her. She had that effect of young children feeling safe with her, even after all those years and the scarring she had after the time in Angband. Part of it were the result of Maedhros being the oldest one of her generation, with a lot of younger brothers and cousins joining her as time passed. 

“Right. You lads go back to your parents, this might not be something for children to watch. Here, a little reward for you for warning about the danger. It might become something for your parents too.” 

Narvi removed both her large earrings and bracelets to hold out in her palm, which the twins happily accepted. 

“Dwarven jewelry are not cursed like that gemstone your grandparents brought to Doriath, so your Ada and Nana do not need to worry. Just ensure that your great-grandfather does not see any of you four wearing that jewelry that clearly are not made in a Elven style,” Maedhros smiled a wry smile as the young princes hurried away to find their parents and tell them about the unusual set of gifts they just had gotten. 

“Right. Tyelpë, you and your aunt go to try gathering the rest of your family here towards our door. I will...make sure that King Tightfist and his people can not follow after us.” 

Celebrimbor knew that Thingol was called so among the Dwarves for refusing to pay the craftsman for placing the Silmaril in the Dwarven-made necklace called Nauglamír, as well the look in his wife's green eyes, a unspoken promise of that it would be some serious form of chaos she planned. Oh well, if they needed to rescue his family members, it might be needed. 

“Just try to not draw too much attention, honey, or I think some people will have my hide if they find out that I dragged you in here,” he whispered in Khuzdul, to which Narvi merely nodded before vanishing back to the afterlife of the Dwarves. 

“ I learned basic Khuzdul back in the First Age, nephew. There is no use hiding it from me, despite that you clearly seem to have mastered it better than me due to being alive for longer. ” 

Of course Maedhros had heard his whisper and understood. Celebrimbor could only hope that she would not question why he had addressed Narvi in a manner that normally only happened between a married couple.

It did not take long for the Elves of Doriath to find Maedhros and Celebrimbor. He knew that he was enough familiar in appearance to his father and grandfather to be mistaken as one of them on a a distance, so now he tried to use that as a bait by trying his best to sound like Curufin in his voice: 

“Nelyo, what do we call a Sindarin princess best known for her beauty, dancing and singing to the point of charming males into questionable actions?”

“ Enchantress, ” Maedhros responded, knowing that any insult aimed at Luthien was bound to make the Elves of Doriath lose common sense, since in general, the legendary Princess was not exactly well loved by the people of Nargothrond and the Noldor following the House of Fëanor. 

“ Then it is high time for a cultural exchange: namely how dance can transform into a battle as well! ” Narvi's voice was heard loud and clearly, getting everyone attention. With how tall his aunt was, Celebrimbor managed to make Maedhros duck her head before she was hit by something coming over them from the large cliff just above. 

 ~X~X~X~X~X~X

For now, Celegorm had managed to climb up at the top of a very tall tree, the spiritual kin to be found here in the Halls, in order to escape the damned Doriath elves that had been chasing him. 

“It is bad when Thingol's own grandson tries to stop them and he gets treated like that…” the silver-haired hunter thought at seeing Dior being caught by some of the Elves and even threatening to beat him up despite that he once had been their King while still alive.  

Here in the Halls, the Fëanorians and the descendants of Thingol tended to avoid each other. Celegorm knew that Dior had mostly forgive him for their mutual killing with time, mainly after that the Half-elven had admitted that he secretly was ashamed of his famous parents, how he thought of them as selfish, basically rushing off on their legendary Quest without a clear planning ahead or possibly even realizing of how their actions would affect others.

“Given that Dior and his own family was the one who had to deal with the Second Kinslaying, I doubt that I would feel proud of such parents in the same situation...oi, are they beating him up?!” 

It was not good if the Doriath elves treated their own former king like that, for trying to give Celegorm enough time to hide himself. The third son of Fëanor was about to jump back down on the ground, when a shrill scream in anger was heard.

“Oh, here comes his wife.”

Of course Nimloth was not happy at seeing her husband about to be treated with such disrespect, especially by people who had been their subjects once.  

“ HANDS OFF MY HUSBAND, YOU ILL-BRED ORGES!! ”

Not for the first time, Celegorm got to witness what had killed Curufin in the Second Kinslaying: Nimloth showing herself to be deadly when she had a sling and anything of the right size to be tossed. She was no easy-scared palace flower, no, Nimloth was Silvan on her maternal side of the family tree and used to a outdoor life, which was why she matched her much younger husband so well in personality. 

“Thank you, dear…” Dior mumbled when she had chased away the attackers, slowly sitting up, feeling that he most likely would get a few bruises here and there on his spiritual body from this. 

“Thingol are so going to get himself knocked out with one of my tossed stones when we finds him! Chasing around after the Sons of Fëanor and their sire when the Master and Mistress of those Halls are not here to ensure that there is no uprising like this? Are he mad?!” 

Celegorm had to agree with her in private, where he overheard the couple from above. He only hoped that his siblings had gotten a chance to hide from their attackers somewhere else. 

“Nana! Ada! Where are you?” 

Ah, the twins must have left in search for his sister about what Thingol planned and now returned to their parents, Celegorm knew that the little twin princes of Doriath was drawn to Maedhros like many other Elflings had been long before them. 

 ~X~X~X~X~X~X

Further away, Fëanor had joined up with his sons Curufin and Caranthir. Even without swords, all three were proving the fact that anything could be used as some form of self-defense, if someone just used their brain for a few ideas. Like how some of their attackers currently was finding out the hard way: being grabbed and forcefully pushed back into others behind, or even used as living weapon by a very painful hold on a arm or leg, before being swung around as either Fëanor or his two sons used plain old gravity to send that Elf flying while also keeping others a small distance away. 

“Damn it all, just how many more are coming?!”  

For all of that they were spirits now, they still kept their Elven hearing, and from a distance, a strange sound was indeed heard. 

“What on…” Caranthir spoke in surprise and shock when he finally got to spot what caused the sound: A Dwarven war chariot pulled by four rams, a model different than what they had seen during the First Age. 

“Out of the way, rascals, I have a Elf-Lord to speak with!” 

The Elves of Doriath naturally did not associate Dwarves with anything pleasant, given how Thingol had been killed, and that war chariot was a fearsome thing to be overrun with because of its weight, which many orcs had gotten in ancient battles. Of course, as spirit it was very hard to be killed again, but suffering pain that trigger up memories from your moment of death was not pleasant either. 

Curufin groaned for himself at seeing who the driver was: Telchar, the Dwarven smith who had once made that knife Beren had taken to cut the Silmaril from the iron crown of Morgoth. Fëanor, who had never seen a Dwarf before thanks to dying long before his children even met the Stone Children of Aulë, stared in disbelief. 

“Well, Lord Curufin. Your lad asked for some help in gathering the family together from the Elves under King Tightfist. You also happen to own me one knife,” the Dwarrowdam spoke bluntly, wearing her working clothes for the forge yet also armed with a nice battle axe. 

“Wait, what are you talking about? How come, that you are able of…” 

But Curufin did not get to finish what he had been about to ask, how Telchar had been able to enter the Halls of Mandos when the Halls of the Forefathers was a different afterlife, for Caranthir pulled him and their father along up on the chariot.

“Questions later. If you would help us get away from those Elves and find our siblings, we can talk more.” 

Judging by the similar sounds in the distrace, there must be some other war chariots as well.

“Right. Your lad have gotten himself married, by the way. A fine lady, well matching him in character, knew each others for nearly a hundred years before they finally married in secret.” 

The shock nearly caused Curufin to fall off the chariot just as telchar made a sharp turn, had not a annoyed Caranthir grabbed hold of his tunic. But this was not the right time for that kind of questions. 

Chapter Text

Few things could surprise Maedhros at this point after all the events in the First Age before her death, so when a Dwarven war chariot driven by Brenna, the daughter of Azaghâl, arrived though the mysterious gate between the Halls of Mandos and that of the Dwarven afterlife, she did not waste breath with any stupid questions. Like how the chariot even had managed to pass through the gate despite it being a bit wider on the sides, some things were simply impossible to explain.    

“Just aim for Thingol over there and his people should shatter like autumn leaves for the winds,” she requested, picking up the spare battle axe at Brenna's feet. Its weight was different from the Elven swords she had used in life, but Maedhros were not in the mood for kinslaying anymore. Right now, all she wanted was to knock Thingol out for a while so some peace could return to the Halls. 

“That one with silver hair, noticeably taller than you? Sure.”

Brenna and Maedhros had never been fighting side by side at the battlefield like she once had done with Azaghâl, but that had a legal excuse in that as a rarely-born Dwarrowdam, and one of royal blood nonetheless, Brenna was too valuable for her people even outside marriage to risking her life in battle. But they had known each other still, as the Dwarven princess had been one of the regents for her brother until that he came of age, since the only son of Azaghâl had not yet reached his majority when becoming the new Lord of Belegost at the death of his father.   

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“Uncle! Uncle Celegorm, are you here?!” Celebrimbor called as Narvi drove their chariot on an upper level. His second uncle was the only one missing outside Amrod and Amras, who aunt Maedhros had seen not far away from her hiding spot.  

“Hold on if you do not want to fall off,” Narvi commented after a sharp turn that almost caused her Elven husband to slip off the chariot by the movement. He was only kept onboard thanks to holding on to an iron handle with his unbroken arm and Narvi having fastened his belt to one end of her long silk shawl and the other end of the shawl to another iron handle on the chariot. 

“I swear that, in time for the Final Battle, I am going to design a version of those chariots that suits Elves better in terms of height…!” 

Narvi smirked at the muttering.   

“You better make some training under the Masters who crafted the original design and built the first ones, first!” 

Suddenly she had to make a stop dead on the rams pulling the chariot, so she did not drive over a group of Elves that looked rather familiar, for all of that most of them were showing signs of having been in battle and killed. Because the stopp happened without warning, Celebrimbor nearly tripped over his Dwarven wife because of how movements worked and their height difference. 

“Ow, Narvi! Warn me next time since I was looking backwards!” Celebrimbor protested as he was shoved back up on his own two feet. And of course, that mention of her name caught some attention.

“Lord Celebrimbor! Lady Narvi?! How on Arda did you two...”  

Seeing that it was only Elves here in the Halls, with the Dwarven afterlife and the Path of Men kept separate, Narvi was not surprised that the soldiers of Ost-in-Edhil were shocked to see her. 

“Found him right as Sauron tried to take him prisoner. Now a guest in our afterlife due to being my husband, and in order to not be lonely as the sole Elf in the Halls of the Forefathers, we are looking for his family members that sadly are being chased around on orders of that King of Doriath who married a Maia.” 

It took maybe a moment or two before they realized which persons she meant. 

“Need a little barrier between them and yourselves, my Lady? Even if we are still hurt from the attack on Ost-in-Edhil, we can not be killed here,” one of the soldiers offered at seeing a group of Sindar Elves from Doriath come closer, since he was one with the least amount of injuries. Not many had known that Celebrimbor actually had married Narvi, but their relationship was so famous that few had not known her by name or the great watercolor painting of her that he had in his home until now.

“Just do not make your current injuries worse, please. And I will tell you more of the Halls of the Forefathers when we meet again!” Celebrimbor requested as Narvi made the goats start running once more. The soldiers promised, before the Sindar found out that they would not have an easy time to catch the grandson of Fëanor.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“Hi, sis!” one of the Ambarussa greeted as they both landed in a Dwarven chariot from where they had hidden themselves earlier. At her other side, Maedhros could not help but notice just how natural Celebrimbor seemed to be at the side of the Dwarrowdam from earlier, in a chariot not far away. Whatever their relationship was, their body language spoke of a very deep trust between them. She had to ask later, even if she already had a strong suspicion based on how she had heard her nephew address the Dam. Well, Celebrimbor had never been like most of the family from an early age, proving that best when he chose to disown his relatives after the whole fiasco at Nargothrond.  

Soon Celebrimbor and Narbi joined up, without having found Celegorm which was a bit alarming in itself. Sure, the Halls were vast in size and his uncle knew how to hide as a skilled hunter, but he had to be somewhere. 

“Aim for Thingol, get my family out of reach from his people and then leave! Sounds good?” Celebrimbor called to the other chariot drivers, pointing towards their target not far away.

Clearly Thingol realized that his famous height made him stand out, and it was not the most impressive scream of horror that left his mouth at realizing that yes, it was really Dwarves that was in the chariots. He had grown a deep fear of Dwarves since his death, so seeing them here in the Halls of Mandos was enough to cause a very possible panic attack which left him unable to give proper orders for those around him.   

“You started this by trying to attack my family again, Thingol, so now you are to face responsibility for that!” Maedhros shouted as Brenna took the lead, their chariot forcing the subjects of Thingol away from him. Not even his personal bodyguards, formed at their arrival to the Halls because of his terror of being defenseless near a possible enemy again, was spared as Thingol himself tried to escape in vain.  

And then Thingol found himself struck by a stone from somewhere above, making him fall facedown. Brenna did not drive over him, as she turned it around at the last moment before the wheels touched Thingol, but the size of the war chariot still made it dangerously close to happen and Maedhros did not doubt that it was mostly to scare the other Elf. 

“Damn it, Thingol, how many ideas can you create to shame your descendants about being related to you?!” 

It was Celegorm, from near the top of a different tree than before, where he could be seen not far from Dior and his family, and Nimloth just had proved true of her promise to use her sling and stones on the former King of Doriath. Understandable, this was one of those moments when it would be a bad idea to remind her that Thingol was the grandfather of her own husband. 

“ Get down from there, Tyelko!! ” 

Of course Maedhros knew that her father was not that pleased to see his second son in a situation that could turn dangerous again, with everything else that currently happened in the Halls. Without losing his balance despite the height of the spiritual tree, Maedhros watched her brother jump down like a cat from branch to branch before jumping on the carriage where Caranthir was. 

“We have found everyone, so we can leave.”  

If the Dwarves somehow entering the Halls were bound to trigger a reaction from the Maiar in the service of Námo, instead of not coming at once to break up this mess Thingol had attempted to create, then Maedhros was not in the mood of being caught up in it. The master of those Halls was strict but fair, which was why the first King of Doriath most often was prevented from acting like a fool. 

“We will be back soon, I am not planning to be gone forever!” Maedhros called out to Eluréd and Elurín as the chariots turned in a different direction, knowing that their parents generally did not forbid their twin sons from being around her due to the fact that she had actually tried to save the little princes from their death.  

“Be back soon, lady Maedhros!” they called, to which Thingol loudly protested: 

“No way that you will be around that female kinslayer...ow!” 

This time, it was Dior who threw a stone at his grandfather as an unspoken reminder that it actually was he and Nimloth who decided what their twin sons would be allowed to do and not do. 

And of course, the moment as the spiritual Doors of Durin was closed after the final chariot, did Námo return from the meeting together with his wife Vairë. As the Dwarves had needed to drive the chariots around on a few levels, searching pretty far before finding all the Fëanorians, the Halls was pretty much in chaos as there was not only people still from the First Age needing healing for one reason or another, but also newcomers from Ost-in-Edhil who clearly had not expected to see their Lord and his unofficial Dwarven consort suddenly show up like that. As a result, the Maiar serving Námo had no idea how to deal with the situation before their master and mistress arrived back from the meeting they had been on, with the rest of the Valar.

“What is this I hear about you trying to set up an ambush for the Fëanorians the moment I was away, Elu Thingol?” Námo asked in a strict tone, his aura revealing his displeasure over the chaos caused in the Halls currently despite that his face was not visible under his hood. Vairë also looked like she was not looking forward to the massive cleanup needed to make things calm again. 

Chapter Text

Once the gateway between the different afterlives had been closed, did Celebrimbor and Narvi give each other a look.    

“Given that it is my family we saved and our door that opened to the Halls of Mandos, I think it is best that we share the blame for whatever mess that is bound to show up with this....”  

Of course, it was hard to hide that the House of Fëanor had came here, as proved in the following moment and interrupted whatever Celebrimbor had intended to say: 

“What are those horrible rags that all of you are wearing?! Do they not offer any decent attire for the Elven souls who await healing and rebirth?!” 

Once the first shock of seeing Maedhros had passed, so did Kym, the Consort of Azaghâl, naturally notice something that was hard to miss. The Fëanorian family members were dressed in plain white robes because even the spiritual kind of clothes sometimes helped Elven souls to feel safe from the horrors they might have faced in Angband, but given how they had been chased around by the Elves of Doriath, said robes were now dirty and teared in various places. 

“Lady Kym, I leave my family in your skilled care while Narvi and I...tries to explain this to Mahal and the Seven Fathers because we started it,” Celebrimbor requested, as they left the war chariot in the care of Brenna. 

“With great pleasure, lad.” 

Maedhros, who had been in the care of Kym and the Dwarrowdams of Belegost in the past, knew that it was useless to protest. Besides, she had actually longed for such beauty treatment laterly in the Halls of Mandos as the Dwarves never made a fuss about her lost beauty after Angband or treated her as a feral animal about to attack. 

“Which one of the two black-haired ones are your sire, Lady Maedhros?” 

Right, Maglor was still alive and her nephew had just left, so she took a quick side-glare to ensure that she did not mix them up.

“Father is the one with more pale skin color and scars after burns on his arms.”

Since Fëanor had died before the rise of the sun, he was paler than his children and grandson nowadays, and the scars was a memory of how he had died thanks to his own inner fire. Also, Curufin had more scars from the battles the siblings had done over their life in exile. 

“Good. Come on, girls, time to make those guests looking nice!” 

Given that Fëanor was completely unfamiliar with the Dwarven race, Caranthir hurried to explain their intention in Quenya. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X 

Meanwhile, Celebrimbor and Narvi had gone straight to Aulë to explain the situation. 

“....and that is how it happened, my Lord.” 

The Vala had sensed that something unusual had happened before, but given that it was to save family members from bad treatment behind Námo's back, perhaps the couple did not need a heavy punishment for their actions. 

“I will talk with Námo about how to solve this once I believe that he has dealt with the chaos in his Halls. Can I trust you both to try and ensure that your family is given some form of occupation while they are here? I am sure that one of the reasons behind those attacks on your family for their historical deeds, may come from the fact that the Halls of Mandos does not offer much...chances to do whatever the Elves did when alive. Like some form of craft, for example.” 

Narvi saw how Celebrimor relaxed a little at those words, just like herself. 

“Yes, my Lord. I can already imagine that they will be very eager to explore the spiritual versions of the other Dwarven realms because they only managed to visit Belegost and Nogrod during the First Age, and learn about the Eastern cultures that they never go to travel to.” 

That response seemed to please the Vala, and then the Seven Fathers of the Dwarves arrived. 

“We heard that you got your Elvish in-laws here, lady Narvi of the House of Asar. Did you feel that your husband would feel lonely as the sole non-Dwarf here?” Durin the Deathless asked without anger in his voice.  

Dwarven culture had different manners of addressing depending on whatever it was to a fellow Dwarf or a non-Dwarf. By that they called her by her family name, it was simply because Narvi and Celebrimbor had kept their marriage a secret while she was still alive since none of them knew how people would react.   

“Partly that reason, yes, Honorable Fathers,” Narvi spoke as she made a deep, respectful curtsy to them because of who they were for the Dwarven race, “and Celebrimbor was worried that with me saving his soul from Sauron not long ago, there could become a grave misunderstanding for his family members in the Halls of Mandos that he would be lost to the Elven afterlife forever as a thrall to the Fallen Maia. Everyone who has lost a family member without knowing their final fate, would likely understand that horror.” 

Celebrimbor could see that the Seven Fathers understood the unspoken words Narvi hinted at, they had been forced to witness their respective clans face hard times in the living world without being able to help from the spirit world and many times seen their own descendants face mortal danger. 

“I will try my best to keep my family from causing trouble, my Lords. But as the youngest family member, that may be more difficult to do than say.”

Not that Celebrimbor thought that his grandfather, uncles, aunt and father would be without something to do. It was just that he was not sure how they had changed after being dead for so many years. 

“Well, surely they would be delighted to be in merry company at least, and not having to worry about being attacked.”

Celebrimbor laughed nervously, recalling a few memories from his childhood that may be good to mention before things got bad. 

“Just keep grandfather away from anything that can explore, the Silmarils were created after such a mess that we honestly have no idea what he originally planned. Give him things to invent and I think it will go well.”

That was all he could ask for, at the moment. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X 

When he and Narvi returned to the healing wings where his family was most likely to be found for treatment of their minor injuries from the Halls of Mandos, somehow it was not surprising to see them having borrowed a few of his finished clothing for now. But all of them had been bathed, cleaned up in other ways and looked better than before, with Fëanor even having his hair set up in complicated braids that revealed he was the head of the family in case someone confused him for Curufin because of how similar they still were despite the more obvious differences that existed between them nowadays. 

“Your mother-in-law promised to have some new clothes finished for us as soon as she and her co-workers can fix them. We had to almost drag your grandfather away from the sewing machines when he saw them,” Maedhros grinned at seeing her nephew arrive. She, the Ambarussa and Celegorm had realized that this was not the right time for such exploration before they were considered healed from their injuries, as much as their sire had shown all the old warning signs of what he intended to do. 

“I guess that uncle Moryo and father had to be pulled away as well since uncle inherited his skills with the needle and thread from great-grandmother and father because he felt like this is an invention he or grandfather could have made?” 

From the looks he got, that guess was correct. 

Chapter Text

Thankfully, it did not turn out to be too much trouble with the House of Fëanor in the Halls of the Forefathers. Just as Aulë  had said, they were in great need of being allowed to be productive, in whatever manner to not start feeling restless or anything such. Once the seven Elves had healed from the chase led by the Doriath Elves, they made sure to explore this other afterlife for the Dwarves. 

“Grandfather, are you planning to have a debate with the Dwarven scholars?” Celebrimbor asked when spotting Fëanor in the middle of writing down a lot of questions on a parchment, a for now improvised Quenya to Sindarin dictionary in the handwriting of Curufin laying beside his elbow. 

“I want to learn as much as I can while we stay here. Do you even realize how boring it got in the Halls of Mandos after some time there, without something to do? And when the whole thing with Thingol's daughter and his mortal son-in-law causing all that trouble as a attempt to prove that their romance was more important than the political stage around them happened….well, can we just keep it as that Dior Eluchil have grown very disillusioned with the actions of his parents after that fiasco nowadays called the Second Kinslaying?” 

Oh-huh, Celebrimbor sensed that it must have been really bad, because only one of the mortal descendants of Luthien had escaped the fall of Doriath, her sole granddaughter Elwing who had been only a toddler at that time. And since Dior and his family had been spotted trying to defend Celegorm from the Elves of Doriath when he and Narvi had come to save them. 

“Sounds like Narvi saving me from Sauron may have been her smartest move, then. Annatar being Sauron in disguise... I was actually suspicious of him from the very start, I must admit, for his claimed backstory did have a few blank spots, but I did not want people to start thinking that I had started to take after... you in the last years before the Darkening of Valinor.” 

From the way Fëanor shoulders tensed up and he did not look up from what he was writing, his grandson guessed that he was somewhat ashamed of his own actions from that time, now when knowing what sort of events the whispers of Morgoth in his ears had resulted in. 

“Ask for the librarian Kóri if you want someone who managed to learn a little Quenya from my aunt, he is Narvi's step-grandfather.” 

“Yes….”  Fëanor responded somewhat absent minded, before it properly sunk in what his grandson had said, “wait, he is not her actual grandfather?!” 

Smiling for himself over the reaction, Celebrimbor promised to tell the details later today. 

He joined Narvi and Ala, who now had finished some clothes for his aunt and they used the walk together to see where the rest of his family could be. Curufin was with the clockmakers, trying to figure out the mysteries to how the Dwarves used those to tell time. Amrod and Amras had been “borrowed” by Loki to help her with some bread-making because the bakers had gotten an extra order from one of the royal courts, perhaps one of the former Kings wanted to surprise his wife with a banquet of some kind. Celegorm watched a shadow theatre, seated behind some young Dwarves because he was much taller, even if he did not understand the language he could still watch the story. And Ala could confirm that Caranthir was in the buildings of the Sewing Guild where she had just left. 

On the other hand, Maedhros could be found with the Dwarrowdams in the area for ladies only. In the Eastern realms ruled by Men it would have been called a harem, yet the Dams were not gathered together for one single male Dwarf here, it was simply a place where they could enjoy their own company without any menfolk nearby. 

“Just how long did you go without a proper massage, at least?!” 

Kym had naturally noticed that Maedhros was in desperate need of a massage to loosen up the tensed muscles in her right shoulder, which was a result of the phantom pains she still suffered from the time she had hung from her right arm in that unnatural manner. Therefore, the sole daughter of Fëanor had first been treated to a steam bath, and now found herself getting a full body massage as well some of the beauty treatments she once had gotten as a guest in Belegost. Not to try making herself pretty again by Elven standards, just taking care of her body. 

“...before the War of Wraith, I think? We were in battles and most of the time, a bath was limited to a quick wash in the nearest river or the sea because we never knew when we needed the armour on again for a new attack. Owwwwww!!” 

It was not that the Dwarven massage hurt her, Maedhros simply had grown too used to her muscles being tense all the time that she never found time to relax her body outside whatever she could get a chance to sleep. 

“Lady Maedhros? Your clothing is done,” Narvi called, arriving with Ala carrying a large amount of basic everyday clothes that they hoped to be in her size. Celebrimbor was very useful as a model for the height differences, but his various family members had some differences in how their bodies were formed, though it was less noticeable than among the mortal races unless one knew how to look. 

“One moment, we need to finish her massage so she can relax for real now.” 

Once the massage was over, Maedhros felt the difference when she tested to make some movements with her upper body. 

“I really missed those massages in the War of Wraith! How wonderful to be able to move without any pain responding to said movement….” she said with honest bliss as she sank down in the warm bath whose pool was large enough for her to even reach out in her full height without trouble. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X 

In other ways, the family proved how they were the close relatives of Celebrimbor, in trying to be useful in their own way once fully recovered from their injuries. A few months after their arrival to the Halls of the Forefathers, Durin and the other six Fathers of the Dwarves thought it was high time for the seven Elves to be allowed to explore more outside the realm that had been formed after Khazad-dûm. 

Without doubt, they ended up sharing Celebrimbor's awe at first seeing the Orocarni Mountains and how different the four Dwarven clans in the East were in their culture from the ones in the West, for he and Narvi took them there to see what they had missed in life. 

“Damn, why did we have to be limited to Beleriand thanks to the war against Morgoth?! All the travels that we missed as a result!” Curufin moaned when it dawned on him what sort of things that they could have seen in the East, if they had all survived. The Dwarven clans in the Orocarni had all their distinctive clothing, culture, cuisine, social habits, music and arts as a perfect proof of that even if they were the same race, they had never blended into one single culture to make a stereotype from. 

“Moryo, wait a little with dashing off to the fabrics at the market until that we have money or something to trade with,” Maedhros requested kindly to her third brother who had to be held back by the twins, seeing from how his hands opened and closed that his fingers must be itching like mad for inspiration from all the embroideries they could see. Out of all the seven siblings, Caranthir had inherited their grandmother Miriel's passion for sewing and needlework, so his reaction was a sign that some of the intended healing in the Halls of Mandos had worked, but that something more was needed. 

“I am torn between wanting to travel around in the city and do some hunting under this blue sky.”

Naturally Celegorm would feel his inner hunter react in some way to the vast open space in front of them. 

“Uncle Tyelko, are you sure that you can be satisfied with this? I mean, it may not even be any big animals for you to hunt,” Celebrimbor asked, and in response his second-born uncle reminded him with a smile that he could still enjoy some animal tracks to follow. 

Naturally, it did not go all smoothly in adjusting to the living space meant for people with shorter height than themselves. It was not unheard of that one of Fëanor's five present sons tripped over something they had not noticed, often some form of furniture, it was pure luck that Fëanor was only kicked out of a heated debate with the Dwarven scholars once for his stubbornness about the subject they talked about and sometimes Maedhros would have a trigger of some kind from her captivity in Angband, memories that may be awakened by a lot of noises in the forges, for example. 

“I am even more grateful that you saved me before I was dragged to Mordor. I think that otherwise, I may have ended up in a similar state as my aunt when she was rescued by Fingon, if she had died back then from a joined death by the blood loss from him needing to cut her hand to free her and from how malnourished she was from starvation….she may have thought her rescue to be a final fever dream before death,” Celebrimbor admitted to Narvi when they had some time for themselves. 

“Do not give me nightmares about what could have been.”

Narvi shuddered in memory of what her Maker had shown her, of what the most likely outcome would have been for her husband if she had not answered his pleading for her help through the marriage bond between their souls. Instead she just hugged him, a movement that he knew the meaning of, so he could think of something more joyful. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

And of course, one evening as they were dinner guests with nearly everyone in Narvi's family at Azaghâl's place because he and Kym wanted to once again have Maedhros as their quest, came the question that the unusual couple should have expected to be dropped at some point: 

“There is one question that has been jumping around among those who have guessed the true bond between you two, master Celebrimbor, mistress Narvi, before you were saved from Sauron. In which way did you marry, the Dwarven way or the Elven one? ” Brenna suddenly asked out of the blue, to which more than one of the dinner guests spit out whatever they just had in their mouths from their wine glasses. 

“That is not something discussed at the table, sweetie,” Kym reminded calmly without looking up from her half-finished plate, while a shocked Azaghâl looked like he could not believe that his daughter had asked such a question.

“Is it because the weddings of the two known Elf and Mortal couples have been recorded even among our history of the other races, to happen in the culture of the Elven bride, with a lot of witnesses to the wedding ceremony?” Narvi wondered carefully, referring to that Luthien had been a Princess of the Sindarin Elves of Doriath and Idril of the Noldor Elves hiding themselves away in Gondolin. 

“More or less, yes. But we have always found it rude to openly ask because it is a part of your privacy as a married couple,” Kóri responded from his seat beside Frigga, setting his pince-nez back by pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Fine. It was a private celebration over finishing the Doors of Durin, alright? And it is not like Tyelpë tried anything that even resembled a possible courtship among the Elves before I was into my first century from birth!” Narvi protested before anyone else could say something. She had a point, the Elves could be betrothed from a young age but never married before their coming-of-age at one hundred years, though Fëanor and Nerdanel had married not long after his official debut as a legal adult. 

“ Atar dearest, was there not a little rumour about yourself and Ammë having a private night together and your official wedding ceremony had to be rushed forwards due to the possible chance of me being an uninvited extra guest at the wedding? ” Maedhros took the chance to tease her father in the same manner as her mother Nerdanel would do in the past, speaking in Quenya to not make the Dwarves hear the details. 

“Not that old court gossip again, Nelyo,” Fëanor mumbled, taking a sip of his drink to not be dragged into this talk about secret weddings and the sort. He had enough of the nobles in the royal court at Tirion thinking that neither Nerdanel or Curufin's healer wife Astarë, who had stayed behind with her mother-in-law at the Exile, was of enough good status for marrying into royalty. 

Sharing a nervous glare in the corner of their eyes over the sudden silence around the table, both Narvi and Celebrimbor had a feeling that they could guess what to happen next. 

“Do not even think about suggesting what I believe some of you are thinking,” Celebrimbor tried to threaten, though he knew already that it would most likely be in vain. Narvi refused to add something similar to what he just said, feeling that it honestly was no point in even trying. 

Chapter Text

Of course, the question of a formal wedding did not leave Celebrimbor and Narvi, when they got the chance to think more deeply about it. 

“Would it not be nice, darling? I mean, we are already married in the most basic Elven marriage tradition, by making love to each other, but while Elves could see the change in my eyes that I now had a spouse, it was no way of telling for your people.” 

“Do not be stupid, Khel,” Narvi commented as she took off her board ear jewelry, “they could tell enough hints from our body language and how we acted around each other after that we had finished the Doors of Durin. You choosing to stay in Khazad-dûm until after my death and burial before returning to Ost-in-Edhil, was also a very telling sign of you acting as a dutiful husband who did his best to take care of a beloved wife.” 

He laughed softly, feeling a little sheepish now when he realized that their actual relationship indeed must have been more obvious than they themselves realized at that time. 

“Blinded by love for each other and enjoying crafting new wonderful things together, huh?” 

Walking over to her, he began to help Narvi to remove all the silver jewelry from her hair and beard because some of the sets were small and could easily break if dropped carelessly to the floor, because that was jewelry intended to show elegance. The decorations were Dwarven-styled, but there were some hints of softer, Elven-styled themes here and there like some tiny emeralds forming a leaf pattern and the sort. 

“If we are going to get married, then which one of us will be the one to ask the other one for their hand in marriage?” Narvi dared to joke as her long hair fell out along her back, and Celebrimbor could see the unspoken challenge. 

“A private gift each when we get a chance to escape the eyes of everyone upon us, and no rings because I am still unhappy with what Sauron intends to use the Rings of Power for, and he managed to manipulate me into crafting those rings because I was still having a raw spiritual wound in my soul after grieving you.”

And with that, they struck a private agreement between them. 

A few days later, no one missed that Celebrimbor was wearing finely crafted, Dwarven-style silver teardrop earrings in his ears, or that Narvi had a previously-unseen silver choker necklace. 

“So, is it going to be a wedding after all, Amad Frigga? I mean, they are both wearing something different from before that no one has seen,” Balder asked his mother, and she gave him a tarot card with two hands under a set of rings as answer that yes, Narvi would soon stand as a bride. 

 ~X~X~X~X~X~X

Of course, the preparations themselves took some time to arrange, because both the bride's and the groom's families had wedding traditions that they wanted to show. 

“I can see why my nephew and his lovely wife choose to do things in private, only the two of them,” Maedhros commented as Fëanor and Frigga entered a new disagreement over something, and Brenna did agree with her about sometimes, the whole fuss of a wedding did not make sense. 

“If you think this is bad, Maedhros, think of how it is when the heir of a Dwarven realm gets married. That sort of planning can take a year or more, especially with a bride from another clan that does not live in the same realm as himself.” 

Ugh, Maedhros did recall the drama among her parents and siblings when Maglor and Curufin had gotten married to their wives, as well the other weddings of her cousins back in Valinor before the Darkening. It had been nice family events, and she had enjoyed being a guest witnessing those events, but the idea of being the female center half in the middle of all that? No, she had not wanted that at all.  

“What sort of food should we be serving for the guests?” Loki asked Celegorm over the disagreement in the background, having teamed up with him because his skill as a hunter worked well with her baking skills as a baker and how Balder was a merchant of expensive spices. 

“Maybe something more of your traditional wedding food? Elven dishes may be hard to recreate here without the receipts, right herbs, meats or those molds used for fine pastries and such fancy things.” 

Everyone ignored that Curufin and Odin got into a very restrained war of words again, because those two tended to clash almost on a daily basis. Odin did not like that Narvi was getting a Elven husband for real, and Curufin saw his son's future brother-in-law as one of those impossible-to-please-in-any-manner Dwarves that he had always been rather frustrated with whenever he met one such Dwarf. 

“Odin, stop causing trouble or you will be sent back to the barracks again!” 

Still, no one was surprised over Caranthir joining Ala and the other seamstresses who prepared the bride and groom's clothes for the ceremony itself. 

“Might as well help out. I have done some clothing for my nephew earlier, and should be able to figure out a nice design on his robes to match the dress Narvi will wear.” 

And of course, there were a lot of old friends of both Narvi and Celebrimbor who were happy that they would finally tie the knot officially. 

“All those gifts…for us?” he wondered at seeing a mountain of stuff that Narvi was trying to sort through. 

“What do you think?” Narvi said, poking her head out among the jewelry boxes and fabric rolls on the table, “ Apart from being an Elf and thus a different race from birth, you would match the ideal of a financially independent, hard-working bachelor with a good reputation in your chosen job career, and you having blood connections to royalty is a fine bonus! And you were on good terms with Durin himself, the first and oldest Father of the Dwarves as well, in both his second and third life! You would be a dream husband for anyone who could look past the whole thing with the Silmarils and that damn Oath of your grandfather! ” 

Oh, Celebrimbor himself had never really been thinking of those terms for him as a possible husband. The drama of his family tended to overshadow that side of his history. 

“Here! Try out those sets of jewelry to see how they look, a gift from my maternal family for you as my bridegroom! The style of the nomadic tribes of Elves that would be seen in the East!” Narvi commanded, tossing over some jewelry boxes to him. Opening one box to see a board collar necklace crafted in gold and lapis lazuli, Celebrimbor saw that it indeed was a very different style than the ones used by the Elves in the West. 

 ~X~X~X~X~X~X

Eventually, the big day came. 

“You look like a real princess in this, Narvi!” 

Following the traditions of the Blacklocks Clan, Narvi wore a caftan dress as part of her finest clothing for events like this. For brides with money, like how the Asar family was a wealthy merchant family, it was no problem with making personal touches on the wedding dress. And since Narvi had loved green as her favorite color, it was perfectly natural that the fabric was a dark green to match her eyes, inherited from Frigga. The embroidery was in both silver and gold thread, silver for the original Quenya name of Celebrimbor and gold to show that she was marrying a prince. 

“And yet she is not done yet. The jewelry is next,” Frigga reminded her youngest granddaughter with a smile, taking out a set of silver jewelry that Narvi recalled as the wedding style of the Orocarni clans.

“Grandmother, you and Amad really want to highlight my Eastern origins.”

“Of course, silly girl! You were born in the Orocarni, and still identified yourself as such even after moving to Khazad-dûm. It would be rather out of character after all those years, if you suddenly chose the wedding style of the Longbeards!” Ala responded, placing the silver coin jewelry on the head of her oldest daughter, and then added several jewelry flowers in silver and various gemstones in her hair where small braids had been done earlier. Then a necklace with emeralds and square-formed earrings were next. 

“A silver crown decorated with thin coins and rare pearls, with the eight-rayed star of your groom as the centerpiece.” 

Even Celebrimbor had gotten dressed up in a style that reminded him a lot about the more fancy yet still practical robes that his family had favored in Valinor. It was an ice-blue color with white on the sleeves, and some silver embroidery of Caranthir forming the star of their House on his back. 

“If you dress up like how the nobles tried to outclass each other with various impractical designs on the robes, the Dwarves will laugh at us!” Maedhros told him, while Amras and Amrod finished the braids in his hair as well. 

“Quit mentioning stuff that he is unlikely to remember because he never was at the royal court unless for a big family event that my father insisted on holding.”

Fëanor had worked hard on a design of a simple circlet of silver that he knew his grandson would favor, so even if it seemed plain without any gemstones or such decoration, it was well-made. 

“It is a little sad that Maglor is still alive, for he would have loved to play his harp on this important event.” 

“He is confirmed to have escaped Sauron and is in safe hands with Elrond in Lindon, so no need for worrying about him at least! Feel happy that he is alive with other Elves and not a captive in Mordor,” Celegorm reminded his siblings, then raising a hand to move a stray hair on the forehead of Celebrimbor back in place. 

Even the many Dwarven guests were enjoying the sight of the mithril cave that had been chosen for the wedding ceremony to be held and carefully decorated to match. 

“Of course they did choose the mithril cave when being asked where they would like to have the ceremony, because that was the metal they used on the original Doors of Durin.”

“And silver is a theme for them both! His name, and her favorite metal for jewelry because she is a pale blonde!” 

A Dwarven wedding was a time when both the central couple, their respective families and their wedding guests would dress up in bright colors, to show that this was a happy event. 

“A treasure chest of beautiful clothing and varied styles of jewelry, indeed!” Durin smiled, enjoying seeing the Dwarrows from the different Clans. That showed just how multicultural Narvi had been, both in heritage and friendships, during her time alive and how Celebrimbor had joined her. 

“Oh, here they come!” 

Seeing each other in the formal wedding clothing and how well they matched despite different colors, bride and bridegroom smiled at each other. 

“Ready for this important step in our lives, Narvi?” 

“We already did the most important part of this ceremony back when we were alive, this is just to please everyone who did not witness our first wedding vows at the Doors of Durin on that lovely high summer night with the full moon.”

They shared a short laugh in memory over the irony that the formal wedding ceremony would be held here in the Halls of the Forefathers, of all places. 

“Hey! Do not kiss yet before doing the wedding oaths, you two!” Durin called in a friendly manner when they made a tender headbutt between them to not ruin the handwork of making both look their best. 

“My silver-named groom.”

“My emerald-eyed bride.”

Taking the hand of each other, they entered the cave together. Rather than husband and wife, they had agreed on calling themselves a consort if people asked. It was a finer word for a spouse among the upper classes, especially fitting as Celebrimbor did hail from the Noldorin royal family, and Narvi would officially be a princess by marriage now when everyone would witness this second wedding ceremony of theirs.