Note: This is Fánamaril's perspective.

I decided to give one of my favorite characters some of the glory.

Out of all the characters overall, I'd say that I'm most like her, because she's deviously funny, despite the fact that she barely gets any showtime here. I've honestly let Silmalir and Makalaurë hog the spotlight.

Enjoy this chapter.

Of all the things to do when arriving at the palace, of course Silmalir had to faint. I would not have blamed her. I did not, in fact, blame her, because at the moment, I was about to entertain the blame of defacing Lady Calwilmë. Naturally, I wouldn't actually do it - then I would have been sent to the dungeons to live out my life, chained to the rotting walls of the palace underground. In my right mind, I would not attack another person.

Of course, I was not in my right mind.

Seeing Makalaurë, or the prospect of seeing him, had excited me, but upon seeing him, all excitement vanished to be replaced by (and I kid you not) a Valarauko. If I saw him in the hallway, and no one was looking, I would have dragged him over the Mindon and thrown him off of it.

I sat by Silmalir's bedside - funny how she always ends up bedridden - and placed my head in my hands, sighing. After catching her, I had completely panicked, and when Makalaurë had come over, I was ready to fully disfigure his handsome face. I was normally unviolent, but Silmalir's reaction, his deed, and my short emotional capacity of a mouse tail had caused me to explode.

Instead of punching him, I had simply set down Silmalir and turned to Tyelkormo. He raised an eyebrow at me, worry evident on his face as his eyes flickered from Silmalir to me to Makalaurë. My fist was clenched, and he didn't look to excited about the prospect of what would happen. Then I punched Tyelkormo and took Silmalir to the infirmary, leaving behind a shocked Hall full of Elves.

Okay. I realise that it was extremely stupid to punch Tyelkormo, because a) I thought that since Silmalir couldn't be happy with Makalaurë, I'd cut off any times with Tyelkormo, b) I didn't want to punch Makalaurë, because he looked really regretful, and c) I had panicked, and if I didn't exert my anger soon, I was about to black out as well.

I didn't apologise to him yet.

I hadn't walked out of the room because I was too ashamed to apologise, even though a small part of me didn't actually regret it...

In truth, I felt a bit of satisfaction when I felt him stumble back, the blow unexpected. I felt satisfaction when I saw Makalaurë's shocked expression.

On top of that, I refused to let Makalaurë, Maitimo, and Tyelkormo in to see her, and King Finwë would have had to have asked Lord Manwë himself to allow his grandsons pardon. This was all their fault, in some way, but I just couldn't pinpoint the reason.

Maybe it was me being unfair and frustrated and helpless.

For once, as I stared at Silmalir's unmoving body, I wished that she would stop getting hurt all the time. Elves weren't supposed to get hurt. Elves possessed more grace, and Silmalir had been born with it. I saw her when she was younger (as we had been friends even then), flitting about the house. It was only after meeting Makalaurë that she'd suddenly gotten...

No. No way in the Void!

I jumped up out of the seat and flung myself out of the room, slamming the door shut behind me. I stormed down the hallway, ignoring the glances shot my way. Despite the fact that I used to be able to find every son of Fëanáro at the end of every single hallway in this palace, I couldn't now. I navigated my way through the mazes and at last came to a stop before Makalaurë's chambers.

Do not even ask me how I know where it is. I, in fact, know where Maitimo and Tyelkormo reside as well, and so does Silmalir.

Knocking, I flung open the door, ironically, and stomped inside, shooting every single inhabitant of the room a dark glare. Those inhabitants just so happened to be Calwilmë, sitting innocently (her face sad) in an armchair, while Makalaurë and Tyelkormo were standing, both stopping whatever they had both been doing. Apparently, they had been shouting. I glared at the both of them. And then I rounded on Makalaurë.

"You. You! Ever since Silmalir met you, she's been having horrible luck! She always gets hurt, always ends up in a bed unconscious! Why in the name of Aman and all of its residents does that happen? I realise that it's been unintentional all those other times, but this time, it was obviously your fault! You lied to her! You said that you - you loved her, you said you would come back for, you didn't come back for her, you did something while she was gone, and now - now - you're - getting - MARRIED!"

I had lost control of my voice and shouted at the second son of the Crown Prince. I honestly wasn't sure why I had just put that into perspective, but it only made my impending doom throb even more heartily.

Makalaurë took this all in stride, looking at me with only an expression of slight pain. "You don't understand."

"Then, pray tell, you explain! You should explain, because if this continues to happen, Silmalir's going to die from going unconscious all the time! She spends most of her time asleep than awake nowadays! She hasn't gotten up to eat in the past few months, and I've had to force-feed her so she won't die from lack of nutrition! And it's because of you!

"If she hadn't cared so much, so much that even a lump of festing orc-shite would have fitted to represent how much, she would be awake, smiling, laughing, and she would be happy! YOU TOOK THAT AWAY FROM HER! YOU'RE TAKING EVERYTHING AWAY FROM HER!" I finally screamed. I had finally cracked. My voice quieted, and I sobered. "I don't need to understand to realise that she's dying, slowly, on the inside."

"Fánamaril - " began Tyelkormo.

"You were in on this too, weren't you? When King Finwë sent the letter, you knew all about how Makalaurë was getting married. I can't believe it. I can't believe that you would let him throw away everything that they had, everything that they could have, and everything they should have had! I was right in punching you!"

His expression was unbelievably sad and hurt that I almost wanted to take back everything I said. The image of Silmalir asleep, tears flowing down her cheeks, flashed across my eyes. I hardened against any regret. Then I walked out the door, growling under my breath as I thought to calm myself with castrating the both of them.

Instead of going back to Silmalir's bed, I walked out into the gardens, sitting down on a bench. I had originally intended to give Makalaurë a good scolding, apologise to Tyelkormo, and knock sense into that princely head of the groom. Then I came to the conclusion that it had all been Makalaurë's fault and ditched that plan at the last moment.

This hadn't gone the way I planned at all.

"You know, if you stay out here too long, you'll attract bugs."

"I don't care. Go away."

"Fánamaril..."

"I don't want to talk to your family members. Or any of your family, for that matter. The only ones whom I'll maintain a decent conversation with are Findaráto, Caranthir, and Findekáno right now. So...go away."

Maitimo sighed. "Makalaurë really loves Silmalir."

"Could have fooled me."

"No, Fánamaril, he really does. I can't explain it, and I'm not allowed to tell you why, but you have to trust me. Makalaurë would sooner fling himself off of Taniquetil than truly marry Lady Calwilmë."

I turned around, calm. "If he really does, he wouldn't have gone through with any marriage of the sort. If it was because their love was forbidden, then that is absolute shite. Silmalir was willing to become something she absolutely did not want to become - a noble - if that's what it took to be with him. How the hell did he ended up wedded to some random Elf-lady that came from Taniquetil? How do you expect me to believe that he loves her if he's going to marry someone else? At this rate, Silmalir's going to give up and go back to working with Lady Alquasar until the end of time."

I could have been mistaken, but a look of panic flashed through Maitimo's eyes. "No! You can't let her give up."

"Do you suggest that I continue to let her bring the knife to flesh then? You're not in the position, and neither am I, to judge her right now. If I was her, I would have left a long time ago, punching him right in the face."

"Well, you did punch Tyelkormo."

"He deserved it."

"How? I thought it was Makalaurë whom you currently were annoyed at."

"He was in on the plan too. And you know what, I bet you are too. Which brings me back to my point of not talking with any of the royal family except for the three I have already named." I brought my legs up and tucked my knees under my chin, sighing. "Leave me alone."

"May I at least have permission to see Silmalir?"

His voice sounded so broken that it was hard not to give in. This boy had more charm than his brothers did.

"Fine," I said grudgingly, anger ebbing out by the gallon. "But if she wakes up, you better not spout any 'Makalaurë still loves you' shite. She's not going to believe it, and quite frankly, I'm not sure I believe it either."

There was a sigh of relief, but I fixed my eyes on the golden sky. "Thank you, Fánamaril. Everything will be alright soon."

I closed my eyes. How?

I don't want you to automatically think that Fánamaril is hot-headed by temperament. She's simply adjusting to the fact that Silmalir is not going to be living a happy life, and the only way she can cope is to take it out on those who rightfully deserve it. She's a gentle person, really, with sarcasm at her good moments. Fánamaril was based somewhat on my ragged personality, even though I have absolutely no romantic inclinations towards Tyelkormo.

I think it was hard, trying to write emotion in small words.

Makalaurë: immense pain and torture
Tyelkormo: shock, sadness, and a bit of hope
Maitimo: firmness, sadness, and a little bit of the leadership side that holds everyone together

This story is actually coming to a close, but fear not! Because there is a continuation of it, following the banishment to Formenos, and the Silmarils!

Postscript: Silmalir, Silmaril. Cool, right? I didn't realise it till the end.

By the by, if I haven't updated in a long time, then I will try to make the next chapter even longer. Somehow. Really, sometimes I hate myself for procrastinating so much. Stupid projects, stupid essays, stupid prep. This chapter is longer, thankfully, than the last one. Chapter 24 really brings me to shame here. I didn't even hit past one thousand words.

Besides that, please do drop a note by means of pressing the button down there! It happens to be in blue print, and Verdana, font size 9. I think.