To let everyone know, I am going strictly by The Silmarillion, so Orodreth is Finarfin's second son and Ereinion/Gil-galad is Fingon's son.


On the begetting day I came of age, my family held a small party at our house in celebration. I had wanted to invite all our cousins, but Atar said no, saying it was just a small gathering. This was true, but it was also true that my father hated his half-brothers. Still, later that day, Írissë and I went riding into Tirion, and as we rested beside the great fountain in the center of the city, she gave me a fine dark cloak she had made which shimmered different colors beneath the sun. Better than that, she kissed my cheek after she gave it to me. She pinned it around my shoulders, and then we went walking around the city. The weight I usually dragged with me wherever I went disappeared and I felt like a cloud as I strolled through Tirion with Írissë, the cloak floating behind me, basking in her presence without a thought for all my wrongs.

The day took a sharp downward turn when I spotted two figures.

My brain registered them as those haughty, golden-haired Vanyar, when I realized they were approaching me. Írisse cried out a greeting and ran up to the smaller of the figures. I remained where I stood, uncertain. They looked vaguely familiar. One of them turned toward me, smiling hesitantly. "You are Morifinwë, are you not?" he asked, his voice like falling water.

I nodded, lowering my head unconsciously.

He strode up to me, smiling, and held out his hand. "I am Artaresto, son of Arafinwë. That's my brother, Angaráto. We are your cousins."

I stared at his perfect, white face framed by perfect golden hair, hair the color of Laurelin. I stared at his large, but well-formed hand, a ring set with a green gem on his middle finger. I looked back up at his face. His smile was losing its luster and appeared painted on. Behind him, I saw his brother standing with Írissë. He was about my age, perhaps a little younger, but with the same perfect face and hair as his brother.

"Hello," I said at last, ignoring his still out-stretched hand.

Artaresto lowered his arm and glanced at the others. While he still had his head turned, I spoke without thinking, "But we are only half-cousins."

He turned back, startled. "Well – yes, but that shouldn't matter."

The words spilled from my mouth. "I suppose not. But I wonder why Atar has restricted our interaction?"

Artaresto still looked startled, but I espied a violent motion behind him, and suddenly his brother, Angaráto, stood next to him. Írissë flew to my side, taking hold of my shoulder, hissing, "Carnistir, stop." I shook her off.

"Artaresto is trying to be friendly," said Angaráto, his perfect face a lovely ugly red. "I hope you were not implying anything by that statement."

"Oh no. I simply thought it strange that we are meeting only just now."

"Indeed," said Artaresto, a trifle less friendly. He nodded to Írissë, nodded to me, and said, "We must be on our way now."

He walked away, his brother following. Írissë sighed, in relief, I suppose, but I straightened and called after them, "Oh, now I remember! Atar doesn't like us associating with you because our family line is now tainted with other blood!" This wasn't exactly true; I didn't know the main reason behind Atar's disdain for the rest of our family.

But true or not, Angaráto whirled around, ran up to me and spat, "And your father is so self-centered, he can't look past his own pitiful history."

Rage filled me, though I had no great love for my father, and I slapped Angaráto across the cheek. He stumbled back, but I could see his sapphire eyes burning with fury. I smiled a little; nice to know that despite his stunning appearance, he could still act like me. He made to rush at me, but, to my surprise, Írissë leaped in front of him, arms outstretched. He collided with her, and together they sprawled onto the cobblestone street. I ran to help Írissë up, but she shoved me away, anger in her beautiful face, tears trembling in her eyes.

"Are you all right, Írissë?" Angaráto asked, sending flushed glares my way.

"I'm fine," she snapped.

"Angaráto, come," Artaresto called, glancing around nervously. Now I noticed the surrounding crowds, whispering among themselves. I felt my face turn deep scarlet, and I lowered my head, pulling my curls close together. Angaráto glared at me before following his brother.

Írissë turned on me, wrathful. "Carnistir! How could you? They are our cousins no matter what. Me and my brothers happen to be very good friends with them." She lowered her voice, which shook with tears. "I am also your half-cousin. Do you consider me a 'taint' to the family?"

Never before had Írissë yelled at me, but worse than that were the stinging words I had spoken without thinking, and had inadvertently hurt my beloved Írissë with. "No, Írissë. I did not mean you. I could never mean you." I felt tears behind my eyes, and I clenched my jaw against them. "I love you," I said through my teeth, but I don't think she heard me.

"I know you did not mean me," she whispered. "It still hurts, though. And you still meant them, and they are like my brothers."

She brought her hand up to her eyes, and I caught her other arm. "Írissë, wait!"

"Moryo, let go!" She pulled away from me and ran through the crowd, weeping.

I watched her go, inwardly cursing myself. The onlookers melted away, glancing my way and whispering as they went. I heard one of them say to his companion, "Wait till his father hears of this." I wished I was still young enough to be punished; I deserved it, for hurting Írissë if for nothing else. But now I had come of age, and I should have known better. I realized I had gotten it wrong; my cousins and their families were not the taint – I was.


Quenya/Sindarin Names:

Artaresto - Orodreth

Angaráto - Angrod

Last edited: 5/17/18