Work Text:
I:
They reunite in the Halls of Mandos. It is a remarkably quiet affair, given who her husband is. He embraces her, tears in both their eyes. Their hands do not part once as they walk.
Fëanor watches her, overcompensating every move he makes, like he is afraid that if he lets go or misspeaks, he will lose her again. It is true that she never approved of his isolation from his half-brothers, nor that their children grew up as separately from their cousins as they did. She has condemned his actions towards the Valar and the Teleri with every fiber of her being.
But she cannot deny that she has missed him, too. Her heart is glad to see him again, even if still she is wary. Fëanor is not a bad person, this she knows, but he has done many things she cannot forgive, and caused many deaths she will not forget.
But the heart is a fickle thing, and so she still held love for him. She did not hate that she did: after all, they had gone through many years at each other's sides, and she knew him like she knew herself.
"I have missed you," he says thickly, once they have reached a small garden. There is not another soul around as they look into each other's eyes. She kisses him then, and he slowly melts against her, old love blossoming anew between them.
Healing will take many years, but it is a trial she will gladly undertake.
II:
They each wander their own paths throughout the Halls. There are many others Fëanor must apologise to or see again. Nerdanel gladly lets him go, and hears news of him speaking again to his brothers, the three of them for once equals.
She smiles. The three of them have much to catch up on, and to repent for.
The smile fades when she remembers her own inaction. She had remained behind in Valinor, at the cost of her sons and the one she loved. She had been spared from the Doom of Mandos and had eventually faded from her grief and ever-growing desire to see her family again.
She had stayed with her parents when Fëanor had left, but she'd found herself a place to stay after a handful of years, no longer able to bear the pitying looks of those around her as news of the events in Beleriand slowly reached them.
Nerdanel pressed the back of her hand to her mouth as she remembered, feeling ill. She had only witnessed the horrors of her sons and spouse second-, oftentimes third-, hand. She did not wish to think of having been there beside them, watching the land stain red.
III:
Fëanor found her in the garden again, sitting watching the water. She was as beautiful as the day he had left her, and her tongue was no less sharp for their years apart. She had been the only one ever able to curb his temper. Not even Maedhros or Curufin had been able to calm him when he was enraged, though they had tried valiantly.
He approached her on silent feet, coming to rest a hand on her shoulder. She ever so slightly flinched, and so he let go and came to sit beside her, watching the water.
"I've come to apologise," he said, breaking the silence that previously only the gurgle of the water had inhabited.
"Our sons and kin died because of you," she said, watching only the current. "You may apologize, but though I love you, still I do not forgive you."
He fell silent, not knowing what to say. But there were no words that would heal this rift between them, only time, if even that.
He could wait. For his Nerdanel, he could stand to wait. He would not pressure her to forget, nor beg for her forgiveness. The choice was hers, and her alone.
Fëanor sat beside Nerdanel, and waited, watching the water.
IV:
Nerdanel sought her sons. Her seven boys had died too, long before she did, and now she felt strong enough to see them. She'd mourned while in Arda. Now she would find them.
Fëanor accompanied her as they walked, roaming the Halls and occasionally asking those around them if they had glimpsed any of the couple's sons.
Fingon directed them towards a room where he said Maedhros and often the others spent much of their time. A small, hopeful smile showed in the quirk of his lips. Nerdanel thanked him and walked with haste.
She knocked, then opened the door without further ado.
V:
Maedhros rose to his feet at once, embracing her tightly before stepping back, his copper hair clinging to her shoulders where it had spilled over. She cupped his face and smiled with her tears, tracing the scars across the bridge of his nose with her thumb.
Caranthir came next, then Ambarussa, and before Nerdanel's spinning head had truly caught up with events, all seven of her sons were holding her, and Fëanor had come up behind her, hugging the other eight.
Tears blurred her vision and her cheeks hurt from the smile she wore, and Nerdanel had never been more overjoyed.
She held fast to those she loved, and this time she did not let go.
VI:
Many, many years later, though they do not count them, it is Nerdanel who approaches her husband in the garden as he watches the water. Her feet against the stone make no sound.
Her hand brushes his shoulder, and he leans into her touch. She takes a seat beside him, the stone cool even through the light fabric of her garb.
"I am ready to forgive you," she says softly aloud, and feels the eyes of her husband upon her. "Do not ask me to forget, for I will not. But you have earned your forgiveness, my love. I too have healed, and I am ready to grant it." And he turns to her with tears and love in his eyes, and this time it is he who kisses her, gently but no less passionately for it.
She forgives, with tears in her own eyes.
And perhaps the passion carries them away for an hour or two, but that is not the concern of any other, whether they are among the living or the dead.
VII:
Neither of them were yet fully healed, this both Nerdanel and Fëanor knew. But they were at last reunited with each other and their sons, and so they were content.
One day, Arda might beckon them again, and they might choose to be revived. But for now, the road forward was a long one, and they were at last able to travel hand in hand once more.