Maitimo swung his sword, knocking Findekáno's blade away from his chest. He tried to concentrate on the swordplay, banishing all other thoughts from his mind. He did not want to think about when he had fought in deadly earnest against other Elves, The memories of friendly sparring in Valinor were only slightly more welcome. Findekáno's sword swung at his neck, and Maitimo's attempt at a parry was just a moment too slow. If they had been practicing as boys in Valinor, Findekáno would have teased him about it. As it was…
"You are getting better." Findekáno's voice was encouraging. "Another round?"
Maitimo gave him a look. "Don't patronize me, cousin. If you had been an Orc, I would be dead. My arm is still too slow—and weak; I fear another round is beyond me."
"Is it your arm or your mind?"
"I like to think that I am not weak-minded," Maitimo said dryly.
Findekáno smiled. "No, I mean it is obvious that you are distracted. What are you thinking about?"
Maitimo shrugged and started to walk back to his quarters, and Findekáno followed. They practiced fighting in a quiet clearing away from anyone who might wasn't to watch. As much as he loved his brothers, he did not want them, especially Curufinwë, to think him weak.
"Is it your fighting?" Findekáno was asking. "It has become much better."
"No,' said Maitimo. "Just bad memories."
"Tell me."
"I can trust you not to tell anyone, especially not my brothers, can I not?" Findekáno nodded, so Maitimo continued. "I was thinking about Alqualondë."
There was no need now to be more specific. The smile left Findekáno's face. "I am not afraid that you are going to kill me, if that is what troubles you."
"Kill you? We already doomed you to death when the ships were burned."
" 'We?' Maitimo, I do not blame you for what your father and your brothers did," Findekáno said gently. "And I lived."
"But what about the next time the Oath forces my hand? I could refuse to burn the ships because that was born of my father's madness, not the Oath, but I do not want there to be another Alqualondë."
"And the Oath was not the result of your father's madness?" Findekáno asked. "If it troubles you so much, cousin, then break it!"
"I cannot. We called the Everlasting Darkness down on ourselves if we broke the Oath; would you have me doomed to that fate?"
" The Valar may have mercy on you. Manwë did, when he sent the eagle."
Maitimo laughed bitterly. "Or he did not wish to have any more kinslaying. It is no matter, though; even the Valar could not undo an oath we swore to Ilúvatar."
The two were silent for a moment. Maitimo wondered again at Findekáno's faith in the Valar. We told them that we needed them not, and so they have forsaken us, he thought. We are alone.
"I remember the darkness before the sun and the moon rose," Findekáno said.
Maitimo shrugged. "As do I. What has that to do with the Oath?"
"I was trying to imagine what the Everlasting Darkness would be like—if it would be like the Helcaraxë, dark and cold beyond belief. But even in the Helcaraxë there were stars. I would not have you doomed to that, Maitimo."
My father doomed you to that, Maitimo thought. Out loud he said, "Then you understand I cannot break the Oath."
"Yes. No."
"My great counselor." Despite everything, Maitimo smiled. "Carnistir would accuse you of trying to corrupt my will."
"Carnistir has little love for me."
"No, but saving me has improved his opinion of you—as opposed to Curufinwë, who hates you for saving me."
"That is harsh of you, cousin. He is your brother; he loves you."
"Yes, and no doubt if I had been killed, he would have mourned for me. But I am alive, and he is free to think that we would be better off without a brother who gives away the kingship. Not to mention that if I had been killed, that would leave in his way to be my brothers' leader Macalaurë, who would not fight to be our leader; Carnistir, whose temper he can manipulate; and Tyelkormo, who has always followed him. The twins are young enough to follow anyone who will lead."
"Your brothers should not think of each other in such a way—as obstacles or things to be manipulated," Findekáno said, frowning.
"But Arda is marred, and nothing is exactly as it should be."
Findekáno stared at him. "Are you blaming a theological concept for your brothers' problems?"
"It is easier than blaming my brothers—or myself. I am their older brother; I helped raise them—and this is what we have come to."
"Maitimo, It is not your fault. You are not their father."
"I know. Curufinwë has made that very clear to me," Maitimo said bitterly. "And he will not forgive me for not being our father. Father raised us well—see how we must follow his will even after his death."
"Fëanaro would not have approved of you giving the kingship to my father," Findekáno pointed out.
Maitimo laughed suddenly, a harsh bark of laughter. "No, he would not. I know not what that makes me—a traitor to my own father?"
"What do you want me to say?" asked Findekáno, sounding frustrated.
So there is an end even to your patience with me, Maitimo mused. "I want you to tell me the truth."
"The truth, cousin? Is there only one?" asked Findekáno, raising his eyebrows. "Here is a truth: the Oath can lead you to evil, if you let it. Here is another: you could fight it."
"But even if I break the Oath, what then? 'To evil end shall all things turn that we begin well'; that is what Mandos said. Either way, we are doomed—and I do not want to suffer in Everlasting Darkness."
Findekáno started to speak, but then just shook his head. Maitimo could see the sadness in his eyes. "Then so be it."
