Note: This is complete silly, ridiculous crack on purpose. If you believe there should be No Fun Allowed in Tolkien's Legendarium you won't like this story.
This is a really stupid idea, Maglor told himself as he rested at the mouth of the cave and pulled out his flask. This is like your father levels of risky and stupid. Maglor took a swig, trying to push away the memory of Fëanor thinking he could take on a Balrog ambush.
Maglor was on a trek in the Himalayas... alone. He wasn't human, obviously, and not prone to the same dangers that made the climb so dangerous even for humans in peak physical condition. Even so, he was not completely impervious, and wore a pack filled with supplies like lembas, and a flask of the very last wine from an era long lost. He had been saving it for an occasion like this one - he had been traveling the world for eons and had seen the rise and fall of many civilizations, and the world had never been in such disrepair as it was now... so before fascism and climate change got even worse, Maglor was taking the opportunity to visit one of the very few corners of the planet he hadn't been before, do something he'd always put off for "someday".
He was starting to regret that decision, wishing he was back at home with his mates.
Maglor looked around - he knew he would have to make camp soon. It would probably be warmer in the cave. He got up and gingerly walked in, then a little less gingerly when he was sure his light Elven footfall wasn't enough to trigger whatever instability there might be. But before he could get too far, suddenly there was a giant shadow... and then a block of what had seemed like snow-covered rocks moved, becoming something huge, gleaming white... made of frost-covered white fur. It roared at him.
Maglor took a step back, then another, heart pounding. The monster was coming closer. Maglor didn't think he would get away fast enough, so instinctively, he drew upon the Song, his voice as a thousand voices, all the power of his persuasion behind it. "I mean you no harm."
The creature blinked, and then he said, "ME WAS SAYING HELLO. BUT YOU NOT SPEAK YETI."
Maglor shook his head.
"USUALLY WHEN ME SAYS HELLO, HUMAN RUN AWAY." The creature moved in a little closer and sniffed. "YOU NOT SMELL HUMAN."
"I'm an elf," Maglor said matter-of-factly.
"ME THOUGHT ELVES WERE JUST LEGEND."
"Yeah." Maglor snorted. "People think you're just a legend, too."
"HRMPH. MAYBE THAT WHY ME NEVER HAVE VISITORS." The Yeti gestured with his paw. "COME IN."
Maglor made himself at home - curiously, there were blankets and pillows, and even more curiously, the Yeti had the fixings for hot chocolate. Well, he is a magical creature, Maglor told himself, hand-waving the logistics. The Yeti gave him a cup of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream, and smiled. Maglor smiled back.
"Nice place you've got here," Maglor said, feeling like an idiot, but what did one say to a Yeti?
"ME TRY. OHHH, ME SHOULD LOOK DECENT FOR COMPANY. BE RIGHT BACK." The Yeti lumbered off, and came back a minute later wearing a knit hat, which made Maglor almost spit his cocoa, trying not to laugh at the adorably ridiculous sight.
"I appreciate the cocoa," Maglor said. "Do you mind if I make camp here? It will be night soon."
"ME NOT MIND. ME GLAD TO HAVE VISITOR." The Yeti frowned a little and gave a sad sigh. "ME LONELY."
"I can imagine." Maglor reached out to give him a sympathetic pat - remembering his own lonely wanderings through the world, only letting a handful of people past an arm's length to reveal his secrets enough to live with them and not face rejection or persecution, but the mortal lifespan was all too short. Here was a kindred spirit, and Maglor felt that fierce, tight ache of empathy. He looked into the Yeti's eyes. "Would you like a hug?"
"OHHHHH! ME WOULD LOVE HUG!"
So Maglor hugged the Yeti, and after a few minutes, he asked, "Would you like me to sing to you?"
"ME LIKE SONG. DO YOU KNOW TAYLOR SWIFT?"
Even a Yeti somehow knows about Taylor Swift. Maglor grinned to himself, reached into his pack to take out his lap harp, and while he had once vowed to never perform a Taylor Swift song, he did so now to entertain his host, singing "All Too Well".
A few songs later, the Yeti was asleep. Maglor walked around a bit to stretch - though the cold was not as dangerous for him as it was for mortals, it still made him a bit stiff at his venerable age - and he found a shelf of supplies with what looked to be a crystal ball. Curiosity got the better of him and he picked it up, and the crystal ball glowed in his hands, and suddenly revealed the Milky Way galaxy, then swirls of color. "It's a palantir," Maglor said in a hushed voice. Now he had solved the mystery of how the Yeti knew about pieces of human culture like Taylor Swift, and was able to transport in small goods like the hot chocolate and whipped cream.
The Yeti blinked awake. "I'm sorry," Maglor said, quickly putting the palantir back on the shelf. "My father made a set of these, a very long time ago. I didn't think I'd find one."
"BUDDHIST MONK ONCE LIVED WITH ME. HE HAD IT."
"That explains... a lot," Maglor said, nodding. "Sorry to wake you up. Want me to sing you back to sleep?"
"ME FINE," the Yeti said, followed by a snore.
Maglor, smiling to himself, found a blanket and wrapped it around his new friend. He looked into the fire, then back at the palantir, and mused that as much as he'd despaired that magic was fading evermore from the world, it still survived, here and there, and that thought gave him a shot of hope.