Title: The Leaving
Author: dragonheartslayer2004
Rating: Teen I suppose for the slight violence that's mentioned.
Warnings: None really other than sadness and depression. You've been warned.
Summary: Fëanor will not take no for an answer. Not even for his beloved wife.
Disclaimer: I do not own Silmarillion or any of its characters. It all belongs to its original creator, Tolkien. All I own is the plot, story, and any original characters that I insert into the story on a whim.
Authoress' Note: Felt like making a story centering on Nerdanel and Fëanor's parting. Quite sad really… and I cannot guarantee that is the best story I have made or if you guys will even like it. I wrote it at around 2:30 in the morning so yeah, I was a bit tired. But anyway, please read and review!
Misty eyes stared back at him from underneath a thin veil of eyelash, tears glistening like morning dew upon her cheeks as they streamed ever downward, eventually breaking away at her chin. He could not bear it. Couldn't stand to be there, looking at her, facing her, as the tears continued to fall. He turned, his taller form once casting a shadow upon her white clad form, and he took note that his shadow retreated with him. He looked out towards the horizon, hearing the crying of gulls, the waves crashing against stone, his wife crying. Fëanor wanted nothing more than to turn around and embrace her, keep her from shaking, but his swelling pride kept him rooted, facing the sea. "Nerdanel," he whispered. "I cannot."
"Why?" she whispered. He could still imagine that tears were running down her pale cheeks, her eyes rimmed with red and her lips quivering as she spoke. "Why must they go too? Have you enough with the others? Please spare them…leave Ambarussa, Fëanor. I beg you to spare the twins at least."
"No!" he cried, turning on her like an angry jackal, his grey eyes alight like fire, his gaze seeming to flicker like hot flames. He immediately regretted the action as Nerdanel took a tentative step back from him, her form quivering just as much as her lips before had and disgusted with himself, he turned away from her to look back towards the ocean. A sob escaped her throat, nearly rending his heart in two. "I am sorry, vessenya," he whispered as he turned to face her, reaching out a long limb to brush the tears from her eyes with the tips of his fingers. "I cannot do as you ask."
For a moment, he imagined that Nerdanel was torn between wanting to embrace him as well, wanting to wrap him in her pale arms and make him forget of the terrible oath he and his sons had sworn. Perhaps if she had, he would have stayed. Would have remained at her side but the image of his father, Finwë, flashed through his mind which made his heart burn ever hotter in anger at what the Black Enemy had done. He pulled away just as her fingers brushed against his skin, their tips soaked and smelling vaguely of sweet salt. He sighed, out of both frustration and denial. He did not want to hurt his wife, but he could not forsake the oath that he had made, for it burned within him like the very fire that had earned him his name. She whispered his name again, her soft voice carrying on the wind and over the crystalline sea. The aching burn in his chest only worsened at the sound of it and it took all of his power to not fall to her feet and weep for forgiveness but Fëanor's pride burned deeply within him, his back still to the woman that he had claimed all those years ago to love. And now it seemed that it was all crumbling apart right before his eyes as he noticed his sons near the beach, their solemn gray eyes looking out across the water while he noticed that the twins, Pityafinwë and Telufinwë, were looking straight at him. Judging him, he thought bitterly, as he turned, facing his wife and feeling the burn of tears flutter in the back of his eyelids.
"Nerdanel," he whispered, his voice nearly cracking as he did so. He had never felt so feeble in all his life and despite that it was for his wife, he felt a sickening hatred begin to build. Not at her of course, but at himself. At his weaknesses, at his faults which he hated more than anything else and he hated feeling weak. He wanted to remain strong for his family, for himself, for the memory of his father and for the enemy that they would soon face. But he found that his resilience was breaking under his wife's gaze as he turned, grey staring into grey. "I cannot leave them here. I must have all the help I need. Why can you not see that?" It was her turn to bite back, her words nearly overpowering him as more tears broke past the surface, rushing down her pale skin. "And why is it that you cannot leave them here! Please… let the twins at least remain, and if not, let me keep one. I feel within my heart that I shall never see any of my sons again if they embark on this reckless oath with you."
"Nerdanel," he whispered again, reaching out to touch a pale cheek only to have his hand brutally slapped away as her eyes suddenly turned hard, like the metal of his forge. "Do not touch me! You dare try to comfort me when you are taking away my happiness! You are leading them to their doom, Fëanor!" She literally was fuming, her face taking on a red tone, her cheeks filling with blush that was nothing short of anger intermingling with grief as she stared straight at him. He sighed. This was going nowhere and fast, he thought, as he looked back to see that his sons were still preparing, but that they had nearly completed all the tasks that he had set for them, catching the twins speaking to one another, their bright hair shining like flame in the glittering sunlight. A sudden anger sparked within him as it reminded him of Nerdanel, and of her useless refusal that he should take the youngest of his children to reclaim the Silmarils. He looked, his eyes turning like cooling metal as they darkened, his brows furrowing. "Vessenya," he said, his voice suddenly taking on commanding power as he looked down at his wife, pulling his hand back down to his side, his armor shining. "I will take them, regardless. They must go. They have sworn an oath! One that they cannot break."
Nerdanel's eyes hardened even further. "Is this what you want?" she said, actual venom sliding in her voice as she looked at him, her lips curving downward into a grimace. "To steal my happiness from me? To destroy all of what we had accomplished together?" It was Fëanor's turn to grow angry as he snapped back, his eyes turning just as hard as hers had ever been. "All I want is what is best for you!" he said, his voice turning into a near hiss of frustration. "But my sons have sworn an oath! Not only to me but before Illuvatar himself! We cannot fall back on the oath we have made! Why can you not understand this!" He began to notice that his voice was raising as was Nerdanel's and that their children, even the twins, turned in confusion towards them, their dark eyes taking it all in. He felt bile rise in his throat and had to fight to swallow It back down as more rage gathered within his chest. Why did she have to start this now? He could barely control his anger as he stared at her, his beautiful wife, the woman he had shared his happiness with for so long. "Best for me!" she snapped suddenly after they had stood in a long and awkward pause, her eyes still rushing forth with tears. "How is this the best for me! For our family! Please! I beg of you, just leave me the twins and if you cannot do this for me, for your wife, then at least leave the youngest. I fear that if you take him I will never see him again …"
She trailed off, her pink lips reddening, her face swollen and stained, stained with her very own tears as Fëanor sighed, his breath slow and long. What he said next made his heart nearly stop and he wished that he could wind back time, and take it all back, but at the time he felt bitterness towards her. "If you do not accept this Nerdanel, then you are no wife of mine." It seemed that everything around them, the world had stopped. He could hear his sons gasp, their voices sounding shocked and full of hurt as he stared at her, his eyes unmoving, unblinking. After what seemed to him to be an eternity, another tear streaked down her pale cheek as he heard his sons begin to whisper amongst themselves, their voices tinged with concern but he took note that none of them had made a move against him or to break the two apart. Time seemed to stand still again but was broken seconds later when Nerdanel spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. So low that he had to strain to hear it. "Very well. If that is to be the case, then you are no husband of mine. I release you…"
Fëanor's breath seemed to stop, as if his lungs had ceased to function as he watched his wife turn, her white dress blowing in the wind as a stray breeze swept past. He wanted to call out to her, wanted to tell her that he was sorry and that he had not meant what he said, but as far as anyone was concerned, the damage had been done. There was no turning back for either of them as she didn't even spare him a glance, her red hair glistening in the light. Much like the fire that was within his heart as his rage fizzled out and was replaced by deep sorrow. Sorrow so deep he thought his heart might break in two as he watched her ascend the steps leading from the docks and harbor, her form growing smaller with each passing second. He wanted to call out to her, to stop her and wrap her within his strong arms but he did absolutely nothing as he turned back around, ignoring the shocked and confused expressions of his sons, his eyes looking out to the sea. He was so focused upon the sea, upon the horizon, that he didn't even hear his youngest son begin to weep as a single tear escaped his defenses, trickling down his face and to his chin before falling to the cold earth below.