Later, Findekano looked back on these weeks as a breather between bouts of madness afflicting the world. It was busy and awkward, yes, but they were able to sort out everything between them. Arafinwe's calm demeanor and faith were a gift of the One, and Maitimo always seemed able to come up with a plan of action, or know how to do whatever was needed. It was good to have his cousin there, and not just because he was Findekano's best friend.
His friend had changed much in the years spent in the north. He was harsher and sadder than the cousin he had known before, and seemed somehow much, much older. Older than Indis even, as impossible as that was. He did not speak much of what he had experienced or what he had Seen, but it lay between them like a sleeping tiger.
Finally, Findekano decided he'd had enough. "Russandol," he said firmly.
His cousin looked up from the couch, where he sat staring moodily into the fire, and twirling a nearly empty wine glass in one hand. "What?" Maitimo asked.
"You've changed. What happened?" asked Findekano.
Maitimo raised his eyebrows. "Banishment, the Darkening, Finwe's death."
Findekano hesitated, then shook his head. "I think there's something else bothering you as well, not that those things aren't terrible enough. Your eyes are different. You're suddenly downright paranoid about guarding a city that has never been under attack, and you snap at people because they don't have skills that we've never needed before in our lives. And where did you learn to fight left-handed like that? I've never seen anyone so good, and you're right-handed! Even that's not all! You're watching, always wary as if you're expecting to be attacked at any time. You're wearing a sword right now, and there's a dagger in your boot. What did you See that you haven't told me?"
Maitimo put the glass down, and pushed his hair back from his face. "A lot," he said bluntly, meeting Findkano's eyes. "I don't know how much of it is going to happen, because events are already diverging from what I foresaw. It was bad, and this is only getting started."
"You can tell me," said Findekano. "Have you told anyone what you saw? Makalaure, maybe?"
Maitimo shook his head. "There wasn't time. I told Finwe that Melkor and Ungoliant were coming, and that the Treelight would die, but he didn't fully believe me, and his actions just got even more people killed. I-"
"I believe you. Everyone knows you foresaw that now, and that it came true. You can tell me the rest, no matter how terrible. You don't have to do this alone."
Maitimo buried his face in his hands, muffling his voice slightly. "You shouldn't trust me, Finno. Everything I do turns to dust in the end."
"Like what?" demanded Findekano. "So you failed to stop Finwe being a stubborn fool and getting himself killed. That's his fault, not yours. The same with your father's foolishness. I know how hard you tried to bridge the gap between our families, and if there's any failure it is as much mine as yours." Findekano scooted along the couch and put his arm around his cousin's shoulders. Nelyo was tense as a coiled spring.
"It's not that," Nelyo said. "It's what I'll do, what I'll become in the future."
"In this future that you've seen?"
"Yes."
"But you've already told me it is diverging from what you saw."
"You don't understand," snapped Nelyo. "It's not visions, it's memories! I've done more evil than you will ever understand, and I dragged you into some of it. And got you killed!"
Findekano's mind ground to a halt even as his mouth answered, "I was alive last time I looked."
Nelyo didn't laugh, speaking in a harsh, grating voice. "I am a mass murderer, and I don't deserve to live. The only reason I came back is that Eru wants me to fix my mistakes. I'm not someone you should trust, no matter how long we've been friends, or how much you care for me. I don't want to break you."
"I don't understand. That… what do you mean you came back and Eru wants you to fix your mistakes?"
"I don't entirely understand it either," Nelyo admitted. "After I died, Eru asked me if I regretted taking the Oath and my vile deeds in its pursuit. I told him I did. He told me that there was a place in the music, a DS al fine where a repeat was possible, and that I could go back and change things. Then I woke up in Formenos with a really bad headache and Makalaure fussing over me."
"How did dying cause you to meet Eru? Are you sure it wasn't Namo?"
"He fished me out of the void after I killed myself, and I found myself in the Timeless Halls. It didn't sound like Namo and he told me he was Eru."
"You killed yourself? You mean you died of grief or weariness?" That didn't sound like Maitimo at all.
"No, I jumped off a cliff."
Findekano just stared at his old friend.
Nelyo stared at the carpet, his face hidden by his hair. "Why?" Findekano whispered. "Why would you do that?"
"I'd wrecked everything, done so much wrong, and there was nothing, nothing I could do that would ever make it right again. Better that I end it before I killed anyone else. I…" Nelyo trailed off, his shoulders shaking.
Findekano didn't know what to say, so he just held his friend as he wept. Some minutes later, Nelyo added. "What I'm most scared of is that I'll end up doing it all over again."
"No," said Findekano, giving Nelyo's shoulder a shake. "You won't do it over again. Eru would not have sent you back if that was all that was going to happen. He would not. And now I know, I won't let you, and you are going to listen to me because you don't want to do it again."
Nelyo started laughing through his tears, then said, "Ai, Fingon, how is it that you are so good at shaking me out of thoughts of despair?"
"Because I know you too well." said Findekano, thinking Fingon?
"That you do indeed." Nelyo then told the strangest tale Findekano had ever heard. His cousin spoke of oaths and bloodstained revenge that horrified Findekano, of high courage and tragedy that left Findekano feeling a little inadequate when compared to the larger-than-life figure that was apparently his future, of heroism that thrilled him and villainy that shocked him, of defeat and a victory unlooked-for that came too late for most. Of dwarves and mortal men, elves and orcs, dragons and eagles, twisted former maiar and ents. Of realms founded, flourishing, lost to the enemy and regained only to be lost beneath the waves forever.
It was very late, the wine bottle was empty, and Nelyo was hoarse by the time the tale ended.
Then one of the watchmen skidded in, "My lords, there is an armed host of elves approaching the gates!"
"Here comes Feanaro," said Maitimo, standing and stretching. "We are out of time." They left together, to face the future that rushed towards them.