One day as we lingered at our house, Ammë took Telvo aside for several hours, causing Pityo more than a little distress. "We are always called together," he said.

"Yes, but you are still two different elves, despite your desire to meld into a singular entity," I told him dryly.

"Carnistir!" Maitimo, not as absorbed in his book as he appeared, reprimanded me.

Later, Atar summoned us all into the great hall of our house. "Sit according to age," he told us, though he seemed preoccupied as always.

Mystified by the formality, we did as told. Curvo was not present, and none of us knew of his whereabouts. After a little while, Ammë appeared with Telvo, who grinned at us, but his face was flushed. Ammë addressed us. "I have decided give Telufinwë Ambarussa a new name."

Pityo, sitting next to me, slumped a little in his chair. Though mother-names were always given later than father-names, I wondered why Ammë had tarried so long to give him a separate name. For some reason, I glanced at Atar; his face was rigid, his burning gray eyes distant. I sighed, then turned back to my mother and brother.

Ammë faced Telvo and said in a clear, dignified voice, "Telufinwë Ambarussa Fëanorion. I now give you this name of foresight." She closed her eyes and took a shaking, shallow breath. Then she opened them, blinking, as if tears were in her eyes. On my other side, Tyelko shifted in his seat. I brought my hands together and found them slick with sweat. I wiped them on my trousers. At last, Ammë spoke again, her voice not quite as strong as before. "Umbarto."

I blinked. The Fated? Telvo looked thrilled, but I felt uneasy. I glanced at Atar again; he no longer looked so distant, and he frowned. As Telvo and Ammë embraced, he stepped forward, his mouth twisted in displeasure. I steeled myself.

"Nerdanel," he said, his voice softer than I'd heard it in a long time, "what kind of a name is that?"

I stifled my scornful laugh. Maka leaned out of his chair and gave me a warning look.

Ammë squared Atar's gaze, her chin up. "It is the name I gave him, Curufinwë. Must we argue over my choice again?"

They both glanced at us, lined up in our chairs, tense and uncomfortable, and I wondered if Atar and Ammë always argued over names. If they did, it was after the naming ceremonies.

"This is different. Do you like being called 'The Fated,' Telvo?"

Telvo shrugged.

I wished I had been asked if I liked being called "Dark" or "Red-Faced."

"It is my name of foresight. He is fated," Ammë insisted.

"Call him 'Ambarto,' instead," said Atar, as if he hadn't heard her.

Ambarto, Upwards-Exalted. To stroke his vanity, I thought.

Ammë said nothing. Atar appeared satisfied, and turned back to the rest of us. "You may go now." We filed out. As I left, I wondered what I was supposed to call my youngest brother now. Ambarussa? Umbarto? Ambarto? I decided to stick to Telvo.

The next day, I visited Amarië. We had maintained contact since the Feast. I could not tell if she was genuinely interested in me, but I enjoyed her company, soaking in her beautiful radiance, and trying not to faint when she held my hand or played with my hair. I did not know anything about her, though I asked her many things, for her answers never reached my ears. Perhaps I did not care about that. I cared only that she stayed with me and touched me, and that was enough.

Today we went to see my cousin Findaráto. I wanted him to meet Amarië. Then perhaps we could all go riding in the meadow.

"I think you will like him," I told Amarië as we rode down the streets to my uncle Arafinwë's house. "He is one of the few people who understand me."

Amarië cocked her head up at me, her eyes locking with mine, and a tingle of pleasure coursed down my spine. "You are still a great mystery to me, Prince Morifinwë."

I had told her countless times to drop the "prince," but she could not bring herself to do it. Some strange, secret part of me took great delight in hearing her say it, so at last, I did not correct her anymore. "Why is that?"

"You evade my questions and give me strange answers."

I looked away. I kept myself from her, out of reluctance and fear. Reluctance, since I did not really want to know her. (Fear – fear of what, I couldn't say. Perhaps it had something to do with Írrisë.) "Mayhap that will change someday." I did not know when.

We came to my uncle's house, and I asked for my cousin. We waited in the drawing room. Amarië leaned against me and plaited my hair into many tiny, frizzy braids. I was half-asleep, listening to the sound her breathing, basking in her warm proximity, shivering with pleasure when her fingers grazed my neck.

"Prince Findaráto," a servant announced.

Amarië untangled her fingers from my hair and we stood as my cousin entered. He smiled when he saw me, but then he froze as his gaze passed over Amarië, and his smile took on a quality I could not name but did not like. I felt Amarië stiffen next to me. I decided to ignore this. "Hello, Cousin," I greeted him. "This is Amarië. Amarië, this is my cousin, Prince Findaráto."

Findaráto bowed, and Amarië curtseyed. "Well met, Lady Amarië."

"Likewise," Amarië murmured, her eyes downcast.

I felt uncomfortable, and said, rather loudly, "I thought we could go riding in the meadow, us three."

Findaráto's usual sunny grin returned. "Ah, yes! That would be excellent."

But that proved fruitless. We rode in utter silence, and Findaráto and Amarië kept exchanging sidelong glances at each other, which I found irritating. Findaráto accompanied me when I saw Amarië home, and when the door closed, I turned on him, but tried keeping my words civil. "What do you think of her, Cousin? I met her at the Feast of Kementári." I dropped my voice. "I really like her."

I could not read Findaráto's face, which flickered a bit, but otherwise remained passive as he gazed upon the door she had retreated behind. "She is . . . she is quite . . . . lovely."

I frowned.

He inhaled and turned toward me, as if wakening from a dream, and smiled. "I congratulate you, Carnistir."

I did not smile. "Thank you."

"Were you . . . considering wedding her?"

"Yes." (Was I? Now I was.)

His smile remained, but I still could not read his face. "Oh. Well, congratulations."

I did not thank him again.

Okay, so first of all, I read somewhere that Nerdanel came up with 'Umbarto' much earlier, but decided to wait to give it to the twin it would suit best. I hadn't read that until recently, so I'm sticking with Nerdanel giving it to him later.

Secondly, I hope I don't offend anyone with pairing Caranthir with Amarië. Trust me, it isn't going to last long. I just wanted to play around with another reason why Caranthir "loved not the sons of Finarfin." I do not think this is what happened at all, and that is true for a lot of what goes on in this story (such as I don't think Caranthir was this at odds with his brothers); but I like tossing around ideas and seeing what happened if certain small things changed.

All that being said, this story is going to undergo a lot of editing. Nothing too major, just some cleaning up, especially when it comes to Caranthir's attitude and his interactions with his family, which I feel are a little extreme . . .

Thank you so much for all the reviews! You guys are the best!

Much love,

Unicadia

Last edited: 5/17/18