A/N/: A flash of inspiration hit me when I saw a lovely depiction of Finduilas and Túrin on deviantArt, and somehow formed this. I'm not quite sure if this is how I see Finduilas' character, but I'm going with it for now.

Any feedback welcome, please enjoy.

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"I worry greatly for you, my child."

I turned from the view of the roaring, thundering river to look at my father. He stood in the doorway, half in shadow. He wore the comfortable, simple attire he always had when spending a day inside, engaged in comfortable pursuits such as reading and painting. Away from the eyes of the people, away from the responsibilities he bore. His hair, unbound and flowing down his back, caught the light and shone, more silver than gold, as he moved forward toward me.

I turned back to the window. "Why, adar? Have I displeased you in some way?"

He came to stand next to me, and gently took my hands in his. "You have not been eating, child," he said quietly, "and I know you have not been sleeping. You wander the halls, listless and lonely. Your friends have not seen you in weeks." He paused. "What is it that has made you so?" he asked, his voice quieter.

My shoulders stiffened slightly. He spoke the truth, but I did not want to discuss this truth with anyone, and certainly not him. He who was able to love the Mormegil so freely, as I was not. "It is nothing but a feeling of shadow, adar," I muttered, still studiously avoiding his gaze. "The world darkens. I feel it in the air, in the water I drink, the food that I eat. Thus, I do not take of the air, and I do not drink and eat as much as one might think I ought."

He frowned. "Finduilas, daughter, it is more than that. I see a shadow in you, dear child. Please, confide your sorrows in me."

My hands tightened, the knuckles becoming white. "Why do you press me, adar?" I snapped at him. "I have told you my sorrow. You read too much into what you think you see."

The corners of his mouth turned down sorrowfully. "You push me away, dear one," he whispered. "I swear, I am only trying to ease your pain, whatever it is."

"You will ease my pain by leaving," I snapped.

He sighed heavily and bowed his head in defeat. "As you wish it, daughter of mine." He walked away, his footsteps light on the marble floor. He paused at the door. "If you do…well, you know where you will find me." And he left.

I stared down at the churning river for what seemed like an age as it boiled and writhed through the passage. Above its fury I barely heard the clatter of hooves as a group of horsemen came back over the bridge, returning from some long sojourn in the wilderness. He rode at the forefront of the party, on a dancing silver charger; his dwarven helm slung over his saddlebags, his black sword sheathed, his midnight locks dancing over his shoulders in the twisting breeze from the river.

My heart twisted painfully in my chest. Soon he will come to me again. My heart aches, yearns to tell him, but he will not respond in kind, and I know it. Yet I still continue in this foolishness. If I could but turn from him, turn to someone more fitting, even turn back to Gwindor…

The guards at the gate hailed him joyously, even as he raised one gloved hand in friendly greeting. I pulled myself away from the window, wandering listlessly over to lie on the soft covers of my bed. Nothing will change, my heart told me gloomily, I cannot now turn from this path, and at the end there lies some darkness I cannot yet perceive…