squirrelwrangler:

The start of the Second Age, in Valinor. The Band of the Red Hand and other survivors and reborn elves from the War of the Jewels now face eternity of peace in Valinor. The transition is smoother for some.

In other words, here’s the start of Bân’s second life:

…

Bân is at a loss for what to do with himself in his second life in Valinor, once the novelty of rebirth has worn off. Well, not entirely so – he knows whom he wishes for as company, and he knows which experiences he shall stringently endeavor to avoid repeating. That particular is easy enough with Morgoth banished to the Timeless Void. But an occupation to fill his time? That Bân lacks.

He was a soldier in Beleriand, a good one. He had been proud of the duties that he fulfilled and the people and lands he protected. His skills with a long blade are still only matched by a rare few – and of that small group, one of which he trained. His knowledge is that of war, and in war and combat Bân is wise. It is his skills outside of the purview of soldier that he lacks.

Bân has no expertise in a peacetime craft, and that should shame him. Even a daubbler’s introduction to hobbies that could form a trade or occupy his time he lacks. He had crafted his interests around those skills necessary for killing orcs and protecting lives via violence, even his simpler hobbies of physical movements were practice to keep muscles and joints limber. The daily exercise routines are useful for other aspects of Bân’s life – his lover certainly appreciates the end results. But Valinor has little need of more men to man the Pelóri Mountains. Bân could join the Vanyar athletes and train for their physical competitions and festivals. But such an endeavor feels hollow to him, and Bân knows he would soon bore of it. Other Returned Noldor face the same problems as Bân- whether to forgo all the martial skills that they had learned or try and preserve them by gentling and controlling the actions of war by transforming them into performance art. The riders already have, placing the mounted katas to music and renaming the battle maneuvers as dance. Bân watched a performance on invitation with the princes. It was moving and beautiful. He could not do it.

The others have options. Some like Aglar, Edrahil, and the princes have their old lives with their families and estates to return to, even if they are finding the old lives no longer exactly fit, like a garment shrunk in the washing or having been re-tailored to fit a new style. Edrahil, oddly enough, is the one most uncomfortable, but the former steward of Nargothrond has an escape plan lined up. Edrahil is nothing if not sensibly prepared, and he has all of eternity to learn how to sail – even if it will only be a placid houseboat and a lover willing to teach him. Edrahil and Maiwë plan to impose on his family’s generous hospitality only until the hull of their new houseboat is caulked. Sooner if Edrahil’s patience expires. And the betting has already begun on how soon Prince Finrod will flee his father’s court to spend a lengthy vacation on Edrahil’s floating house. That is probably why Amarië is assisting to decorate and outfit it, knowing in advance that she will call on Edrahil and Maiwë’s hospitality.

Tacholdir has his writings and Heledir has a collaboration with Princess Findis on something much the same, if more frivolous in subject matter. Bân is no author, unless letters to Aereth count, and he has no need of a pen when his beloved lives with him. 

Arodreth has merrily assigned himself as personal steward and gardener for Lady Alphen. She will either throw him out of her house on his ear or finally shove him into her bed. Or perhaps both. Old Mother Swan and Old Father Bull are as constant as tides, even if nowadays it is King Arafinwë to whom Lady Alphen advises, and Arodreth has banished both armor and – rumors says- the very concept of shirts. If the old warrior wishes to putter around a rose garden and organize the running of household tasks without tunic and only the most form-fitting of hose, Bân will not gainsay him. Anyways, he doubts the veracity of that rumor, no matter what Consael swears. Arodreth is handsome for an elf, even if his re-embodiment has not removed the signs of a wear of a long life full of strain and experience from his features, and he was never one for stylish or form-fitting clothes. And the current trend in Tirion is for men to wear very snugly fitting-abbreviated garments, as simplified and loose fitting gowns are trendy for women. Prince Finrod, Faron, and the half-brothers re the closest to popinjays among their cadre, and Tacholdir the only other one  to closely monitor current trends. Tacholdir recently dragged a stunned and overwhelmed Faron along to the best tailor in Tirion as a wardrobe consultant after he received his commission for his first published manuscript, then modeled the resulting new wardrobe for everyone. Therefore Bân knows what people are wearing in Tirion, even if he does not currently reside there. Back in Beleriand – before death – Arodreth rarely wore the finery befitting his station, and in this Bân is alike, content to daily wear the loose-fitting and comfortable gambesons that he wore as armor under-padding. Now Bân has no armor, yet he cannot drum up enthusiasm for new clothes.

That his baggy mortal-style trousers are apparently also in-fashion, at least among the daring youths of Valmar and Tirion, according to Consael, does mildly horrify Bân. In his youth, back when the Trees lived, the hip trend was secret swords and emblazoned shields, so this fancy for aping mortal appearance is at least more benign.

Still, the germ of the story, the implication that Arodreth is actively attempting to seduce Lady Alphen, is believable. Heledir is perhaps the only one of Bân’s cohort that has not initiated a courtship or is already betrothed or married. The Valar know this dance between Arodreth and Alphen has been long enough.