ShinyStarShip has Invited You to Join a Zoom Conference! by JazTheBard

Chapter 1

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On an unnamed beach at the end of the Third Age:

 

Several years had passed since the War of the Ring when Maglor heard his Pocket Palantír™ ring.

 

That was strange; he hadn't gotten any calls or messages on it, other than misdials from Steward of Gondor's stone, since Saruman had texted him a recruitment ad for Sauron's army a few years back. He had marked it as spam and blocked Saruman's number.

 

But this notification was different.

 

"shinystarship has Invited You to a Video Conference!" it cheerfully proclaimed in bolded text. Maglor tentatively pressed the Accept button.

 

And found himself looking at the faces of a great number of people, both living and dead.

 

"Sad_Beach_Cryptid has joined the call!" the device announced in a bar up above everyone's video frames.

 

There was Maedhros (username hottestelf), presumably in the Halls of Mandos, who looked to be sharing a palantír with Fingon, and Gil-Galad (AWildErenionAppears) in a similar-looking place. There were Glorfindel (blonde mcBlonde) and Celeborn (how do i change my username), Eärendil (who was apparently the one to invite Maglor, given that his username was shinystarship) and Olórin, of all people (gandalftheGAY). He saw Thranduil (Elvenking_elvenbling) too, and, the only person with a username even vaguely professional, Círdan (Círdan_the_Shipwright).

 

"Hewwo!" said Glorfindel cheerfully, as if video chatting with dead people was an everyday occurrence and he hadn't just decided to kill everyone else in one hit with his greeting.

 

Maglor had very little time to process any of this before Eärendil started talking.

 

"Hello everyone! Now, I'm sure you're wondering why I started this video call--"

 

Glorfindel interrupted, "Are we though?"

 

Círdan nodded. "I'd say it's pretty obvious given the timing and the people involved."

 

It was not obvious to Maglor.

 

Eärendil rolled his eyes. "If you would let me finish, thank you. Anyway, my wonderful son Elrond is sailing for Aman in just a few weeks, and he's had a tough time of it lately. As his various fathers and father figures, we have to present a united front to help him."

 

Most people on the call nodded, with varying degrees of reluctance at having to work with each other. Maglor was still reeling, both from seeing his dead family members and being acknowledged as Elrond's foster father by his birth father.

 

"Wait a second, I'm not his dad!" cried Thranduil.

 

Eärendil looked puzzled. "But you're a male or male-adjacent person, older than him, who has spent more than five minutes talking to him. Historically, that does tend to make you his dad."

 

"We're very close in age! He's more of a younger brother to me. If you want Elrond's dads, get my dad Oropher on the call."

 

"Okay," said Eärendil.

 

"You know, I think I'm more of an uncle figure, myself," said Olórin.

 

"KingOropher has joined the call!" said the text on screen.

 

"Oh thank Ulmo, someone else with a username that doesn't make me cringe to read it," muttered Círdan.

 

Oropher appeared in a video frame, seemingly in a forest, wearing sunglasses and holding a drink. He waved.

 

Thranduil was still talking. "...and sometimes Elrond babysits my son."

 

"Isn't Legolas already a few thousand years old?" asked Oropher. "Does my grandson really need to be babysat?"

 

Everyone in the call who had ever met or seen Legolas nodded emphatically. "Absolutely," said Maglor.

 

"How would you even know that?" said Glorfindel. "Honestly, I thought you were dead or something, but you've met Legolas?"

 

"Not 'met,' really. I was in Rohan at the same time he was. Also," he said, addressing Thranduil, "he's gotten married to a very nice dwarf, so don't be rude when he comes back with his husband in tow."

 

Celeborn spoke up. "Oh, he and Gimli got married? I'm sure they'll be very happy together. They were just getting over being enemies when I met them, but they make a lovely couple."

 

"I officiated the ceremony," said Olórin.

 

"Can we please get back on topic?" Círdan begged.

 

"Depends, what is the topic?" countered Oropher.

 

"Trying to help our collective son Elrond," said Eärendil. "Now I know that some of you are dead, but I'm very close to convincing Námo to let you out in time to meet Elrond's ship. If you still have healing to do, hurry up. Círdan is sailing with him, and I know Glorfindel and Celeborn are taking care of stuff in Middle-Earth for a while, right?"

 

Glorfindel said, "Yep! We're here to make sure his sons and Samwise Gamgee all actually sail."

 

Eärendil nodded. "Perfect, he won't want to lose them, too. Thranduil?"

 

"I have to rule my forest, we're still rebuilding. I'll send updates regularly, don't worry. If my people decide to sail, I'll go with them, but I can't leave them leaderless."

 

"They'll probably sail," said Maglor. "From what I've gathered, Legolas is well-loved, and he was struck by the sea-longing during the war. They might follow him there."

 

Everyone winced. Not all of them had experienced the sea-longing themselves, but they'd all seen its effect.

 

"How do you even know all of this, were you there?" said Oropher incredulously.

 

Maglor rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Everybody knows that Pelargir is full of extremely bad-tempered seagulls. I heard about it during the march on the Black Gate. Seagulls are terrifying."

 

"As well they should be!" called a voice from offscreen. A moment later, Elwing came into Eärendil's frame. "Hi boys!"

 

"Hi, Elwing," they all said on reflex.

 

"I'm very glad you're all helping my son, but this doesn't mean I'm not still mad at some of you." Maedhros and Maglor wore matching expressions of guilt. "And that includes you, Gil-Galad, so stop looking so smug! You let my boys fight?"

 

Gil-Galad's smile vanished. "Okay, well, in my defense, they did ask. And they were adults at the time."

 

"You did what?" cried Maedhros and Maglor simultaneously. Maedhros continued, "Erenion, I know we're supposed to be forgiving others while we're in here, but I'm sure Námo will understand if I punch you for putting my kids in danger, what the hell?"

 

"Sorry to interrupt, but why is Fingon here? He never even met Elrond," said Oropher, looking actually quite delighted at the mess. The other dads quieted their fight at the change of subject.

 

Fingon said, "Maedhros and I are married, so I'm his step-foster-dad."

 

Oropher raised his glass. "Cheers to that."

 

At some point, Círdan had gone out of frame. The rest of the call participants heard a faint, repeated thunk, as if someone were gently banging their head on something wooden.

 

Círdan reappeared. "What's the rest of the plan?" he asked.

 

Eärendil cleared his throat. "Oropher has already been reembodied, I'll add him to the mass text I'll be sending when we know Elrond's ETA. We're not letting him face Valinor alone; I'm working on a spreadsheet to make sure he had at least one of us with him at all times. Mithrandir, I know you're busy," he said, addressing Olórin, "especially with acclimating the hobbits and reporting to the Valar, so I'm leaving you off the rotation until you're more sure of your schedule. We've already talked about the dead people and those staying behind. Círdan and Mithrandir are sailing with him, so that just leaves Maglor. When are you planning to sail?"

 

Wait, what?

 

"Wait, what?" Maglor said.

 

"I said, when are you planning to sail? You could go with him, if you're not too far away from the Gray Havens and could make it in time. Is there room on the boat?"

 

Círdan said, "There should be, we're not bringing that many people. One of them's a hobbit, and hobbits are very small."

 

"No, no, no, sorry," said Maglor, trying to keep up. "But I was under the impression that I wasn't allowed to return. Did something change?"

 

Everyone turned their eyes to Olórin's video. After a moment of silence, Fingon spoke for them all: "What the hell, dude? You didn't tell him?"

 

"Okay, first of all, don't look at me like that, the Blue Wizards were supposed to do it. But they foisted it onto me because they wanted to go to Harad, and then I couldn't find him because he's a sneaky bastard, so I just sent him a prophetic dream about it," said Olórin.

 

Maglor vaguely remembered a dream that might have been the one he spoke of. "That dream was just the sea with a light glimmering far in the distance! There are a lot of meanings more likely than 'you're allowed to return,' which didn't fit the dream at all!"

 

Oropher made a noise of sympathy for Maglor. "Face it, Mithrandir, your symbolism is just wack."

 

"So can you make it on time for the boat?" asked Eärendil. He sounded very much like he wanted the answer to be yes, which Maglor didn't currently have the mental capacity to process.

 

"Uh, sure," he replied, eloquent as ever.

 

"Perfect, I'll send you the info when we're done here," said Círdan. "Also, you do know what a hobbit is, right? I don't have to get into that?"

 

"I actually passed through the Shire a few times, it's very nice," said Maglor as all the dads who hadn't met a hobbit asked for an explanation that Círdan refused to give.

 

"That's all settled, then!" said Eärendil, beaming. "Now remember, we're in this together to help our son, or brother or nephew as the case may be, because he needs us. Rehash old grievances on your own time, and for the love of Varda, don't do it in front of Elrond."

 

Everyone nodded.

 

Maedhros spoke up, "Luckily, he's not here yet. So Erenion, you have until I explain to Námo what you did. Start running."

 

Gil-Galad panicked and turned off his stone.

 

"AWildErenionAppears has left the call!"

 

"A wild Erenion disappears," said Glorfindel, to the groans of the other dads.

 

"Please, it's not funny anymore. You do this every time, stop," begged Thranduil.

 

"It's hilarious every time, actually," said Olórin.

 

Everyone started signing off.

 

"I'll see you folks soon," said Maglor. "I'll be on my way tomorrow."

 

He turned off the palantír.

 

Well! Roughly none of that was expected. It'd probably hit him all at once later, but for now he'd head northwards and look forward to a reunion with his son.

---

A Few Weeks Later:

 

Elrond sighed.

 

It hurt to be leaving Middle-Earth and his children behind, especially Arwen, even if he was soon to be reunited with Celebrían. Glorfindel and Celeborn assured him that his sons would sail, at least, even if they had to physically drag the boys to Aman.

 

Mithrandir, traveling with him and the hobbits, told him that a great many people in the Blessed Land awaited him eagerly. "Especially your parents," the wizard said.

 

Elrond raised an eyebrow. "Which ones?"

 

Mithrandir laughed. "More than you'd expect, I'm sure! I have it on excellent authority that Gil-Galad has been reembodied recently, and Oropher was reborn some time ago. They send you their love."

 

That was a bit of a shock, and not just the reembodiment. "I am sure Oropher said nothing of the kind," said Elrond, knowing his father figure's temperament better than that.

 

"Ah, you've caught me! He demanded news of his grandson and your help with some sort of Legolas-related secret project, but the love was there somewhere."

 

Elrond smiled. That sounded more like him.

 

Mithrandir continued, "Your birth parents, too, of course. From what I gathered, they were the driving force in getting Gil-Galad back in time to meet you at the harbor."

 

Truth be told, Elrond was nervous to meet Eärendil and Elwing again. He knew they watched over him, and Elros's line, as best they could, though unable to actually do anything. He had met them once briefly in Númenor, which was in-between enough for no one to be banned from it. And from the little notes delivered by birds during eclipses (when the Valar were too busy untangling Arien and Tilion to notice), he knew they loved him and wanted to see him again. But really meeting them, in a place they weren't all just visiting, was different.

 

Some people thought Elrond blamed them for his and Elros's abandonment, and the twins themselves were included in that number for a while. But when they had met in Númenor, the first words out of his parents' mouths were an apology. They had thought the twins already dead, they had explained, and didn't find out otherwise until after landing in Aman and being forbidden to go back.

 

They had spent more time with Elros, as he was the one they could actually visit, and also slower to forgive, but they both had in the end.

 

So Elrond didn't really have to be nervous, but he was anyway.

 

And a little sad, thinking of the reunions he would never have.

 

Maedhros was dead and almost certain to remain so; Elrond wouldn't see him waiting at the harbor for the ship. He'd never even managed to find Maglor, let alone convince him to sail, though Elrond knew he was alive somewhere. Mithrandir, his companion in searching, could tell that much. Maglor probably wasn't allowed to sail, anyway, but Elrond wished he could at least say farewell.

 

He voiced these thoughts to his traveling companion, who patted him on the shoulder in sympathy.

 

"You may yet be surprised," said Mithrandir. "Many unprecedented things have happened lately, and they continue to occur. Hobbits travel with us to Valinor, is it so far-fetched that you might see more of your fathers again?"

 

"I suppose not," said Elrond. They crested the last hill before the Gray Havens and saw the sea laid out before them.

 

Mithrandir pulled out his palantír. "Hold on a second, I need to text Círdan and let him know we're almost there." He did so.

 

Soon enough, the group of elves, hobbits, and one Maia made their way to the docks, where Círdan and Galadriel waited. Elrond gave Círdan a hug by way of greeting as the hobbits said their goodbyes.

 

Elrond said hello to Galadriel and the others on the ship, and goodbye to Glorfindel, Celeborn, and his sons.

 

As Celeborn and Galadriel hugged and spoke softly to each other, Círdan pulled Elrond away from the private moment. "There's someone else I think you'll be glad to see," he said, and refused to elaborate.

 

The small crowd on the ship parted, and Elrond saw the face of someone he had lost hope of ever reuniting with.

 

"Atto?" he said hesitantly, almost in a whisper.

 

Maglor broke into a smile. "Elrond. It is good to see you again." He opened his arms.

 

Elrond rushed into his embrace.

 

After a long period of crying, comfort, and convoluted explanations, Elrond dried his tears and pulled away from his long-lost foster dad. "Wait a second," he said, coming to a realization. "Mithrandir, you knew about this!"

 

The wizard in question didn't even have the decency to look ashamed. "I told you it might happen."

 

"Oh, for fuck's sake," said Elrond, "you need to learn how to tell people things! And atto, how did you know to meet me here today?"

 

"Your father Eärendil video called me. He has apparently been arranging a coalition of all your father figures; he's even gotten Maedhros reembodied."

 

"Fingon, too," said Mithrandir. "He claims that as your step-foster father, he belongs in the groupchat, and refuses to shut up in it."

 

"We have a shared calendar," added Maglor, “to keep people from infringing on others’ time with you.”

 

"Is there anything else I should know?!"

 

The groupchat members paused to see if they could think of anything.

 

Celeborn, who was back ashore after saying goodbye, called out, "Gil-Galad is currently in disgrace and got his moderator privileges revoked!"

 

"Ah, yes," said Mithrandir. "Maedhros punched him and Elwing is still mad that he let you and Elros go into battle. I've been taking screenshots of everything for later."

 

"Thank goodness I don't say incriminating things in the chat," muttered Maglor.

 

"Excuse me?" said a new voice. Everyone turned around to see Bilbo and Frodo looking curiously at the still-weepy elves.

 

Elrond stood from the bench where he had sat hugging his father and said, "Bilbo and Frodo Baggins, I would like to introduce you to my father, Maglor."

 

The hobbits both recognized the name. Bilbo blinked in surprise. And then, as one, they decided that questioning it would be rather rude, and anyway it wasn't any of their business who exactly Elrond went around calling his dad.

 

Círdan, who had left once the crying had started, reappeared. “Is everyone ready? It’s just about time to go.”

 

Everyone nodded.

 

Maglor stood up. “Anyone for a sea shanty?”