How did I forget how heartbreaking and yet hilarious Kili is upon learning that he will one day, in the very very very far future, see Tauriel again? And that he considers eating a whole bowl of salad a nigh-impossible task?

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CLIMB EVERY MOUNTAIN, FORD EVERRRRY STREEAAAAAM, EAAAAT A BOWL OF SALAAAAD

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TILL! YOU! FIND! YOUR! DREEEEAAAAAAAAAAM

depressing quesiton – does every dwarf make it mahal’s hall? what happens to the ones that don’t?

idk, Nonnie. I’ve mentioned before that Mahal re-embodies his Dwarves in the Halls (there are a few answered asks regarding that, actually, if you check my ‘dwarves’ tag or ‘headcanony things’ tag). It’s a bit of a system, tbh, the way it has worked out. I’ll break it down, step by step, and see if that sparks any ideas…

Dwarf – Made by Mahal

Dwarf – Dies, is sent to Mandos’ Halls.

(canon bit: we know that the Dwarves believe that their halls of waiting, whilst still a part of Mandos’ domain, are set aside from other people’s halls. There they are looked after by Mahal until Dagor Dagorath, whoop)

Dwarf – in Halls, is re-made by Mahal in their eternal body (this guy takes a warranty seriously)

Previously, I have mused that perhaps those Dwarves who are truly awful souls, who are corrupted beyond help and are truly irredeemable, would not have been re-made by Mahal. Not sure where their fea goes. Perhaps Morgoth in Space has an Evil Dwarf Army, beyond the Door of Night?

(Psst write the Boromirlives!AU after you’re done with Sansukh, please?)

I have a tiny, tiny bunny for that AU, Nonnie – I will need to feed it a little before it’s big enough to release into the wild, but it’s nibbling away!

Fili and Kili totally do everything they can to have a badass bedroom in the Halls. Vili carved them a badass double bunk bed thing out of the stone (Frerin & Frar helped). Thrain made them really cool racks for stuff- and Thorin made weapons for some and Fris made musical instruments for others. Hrera made them (ugly, hard-won) knitwear. Zhori and Ori and Nori made them awesome blankets and linens (w/fighting patterns). All sorts of cool doodads that they made or traded for or were gifted.

OOOOH very cool ideas! Heh, I wrote a music/drabble thingy about Fris making a violin for Fili: perhaps she made him a stand, too!

(double bunk beds set into the walls always and without fail make me think of Red Dwarf. It is a curse I must bear.)

But dets, consider this: maglor limping over to the lonely mountain to recapture the silmaril/arkenstone, and getting there just after the botfa and meeting dis???

The ancient Elf looks at her with eyes like black holes, and his presence is a sucking void in the room. He is gaunt to the point of emaciation, and he does not speak. It appears that he has forgotten how.

Dis’ heart is a stone in her chest. She knows who he must be. She knows her history. She had the finest instructors her grandfather could find… until. Until.

Sometimes her life feels like one long litany of ‘until.’

“Take it.”

He looks at her with those terrible eyes, and she turns away. Away from him and from the twisted, blackened ruins that are his hands. “Take the cursed thing and be gone,” she manages, and her hands grip at the arms of her chair. “It has brought us nothing but misery.”

She does not hear him move, but suddenly there is a light touch upon her shoulder. She whips her head back to see him standing closer, his twiglike hand retreating.

His terrible eyes have sympathy in them. He licks his lips, and his mouth moves awkwardly, tongue and teeth relearning the proper ways to line up.

Finally he manages to produce a sound.

“Know the feeling,” he rasps in a dead voice.

Then he is gone, silent as a shadow, and Dis clutches at the arms of her chair even harder.

She is shaking.