I own nothing.
They've all been told to gather in their father's tent—no explanation as to why, of course, but Turukáno suggested that it was likely just to give Nolofinwë a progress report, and the other three were inclined to agree with him. Of course, if that is what Father's wanting, Arakáno can't help but think that he's going to be sorely disappointed. The only progress of any kind that they've been making is that the Host, however slowly, is moving forwards. In every other respect, they may as well be going backwards.
Let there be no mistake—Arakáno has no intention of turning around. He has every intention of getting to Endóre, avenging his grandfather, and punching his uncle and half-cousins in the face for stranding them out here, but none of turning around. That door is shut, and Arakáno has never been one for giving up halfway through. But they're all starving and freezing out here, and there's no getting around that.
The four of them sit huddled around the fire going in their father's tent. Arakáno and Findekáno sit on one side, and Turukáno and Irissë sit on the other. Arakáno shivers, holding his hands as close as he can to the flames without being burned.
"Do you remember when we would go camping in Valinor?" he asks through chattering teeth.
Turukáno and Irissë both glare at him, and Findekáno mutters, "Don't start."
However, once Arakáno has started, he has no intention of stopping. "It was so warm," he reminisces wistfully. "The sky was all silver, and there were fireflies everywhere. We didn't even need the fire, but we lit one anyways."
"Arakáno…" Irissë's voice is barely audible, but there's no mistaking the irritation in it.
He laughs sadly as he remembers more. "Findekáno, I remember. You decided you were going to tell ghost stories. I don't think any of us slept at all but you."
"Arakáno, be quiet," Turukáno snaps, and judging from Findekáno and Irissë's faces, they agree with the sentiment.
At that, all Arakáno can really do is fall silent, like they want. It's strange, but he can't really argue with his older siblings. Disagreeing, at times loudly and publicly, with their parents, Nolofinwë especially, that's remarkably easy, practically a matter of course. You could almost say that it's his duty as a youngest son to disagree with his father. Findekáno is the oldest, and thus it is his duty to stand with their father. Irissë is a daughter, and thus it is her duty to stay quiet (Though good luck enforcing that). Turukáno seems to have no interest in defying their father's will. So that leaves Arakáno.
It's different with his older siblings than it is with his parents. There's just something in Arakáno that doesn't want to argue with them, or defy their will. So when Findekáno tells him to fall silent, that he will do, though a bitter feeling erupts in his chest to have to swallow down his words.
There are many out here who on the Ice who are determined to forget the past, to forget Valinor. Arakáno doesn't know why they do it. If he had to guess, he would suspect it to be something like this, those who try to forget trying to numb themselves to the cold. If they know nothing but cold, then how can they miss the warmth?
But Arakáno will remember the warmth of Valinor, its green life. It gives him something to hope for, that Endóre won't be a land so foreign that it will be devoid of greenery and warmth. Those memories give him hope for the future.
Turukáno—Turgon
Nolofinwë—Fingolfin
Arakáno—Argon
Findekáno—Fingon
Irissë—Aredhel
Endóre—Middle-Earth (Quenya)