1472

Life in the house of Nolofinwë being run around the fiction that he was a paterfamilias of Fëanáro's standing, he had his own private study overlooking the garden. Lalwen and Artelda were the only members of the family who would risk hurting his feelings by breaching the sacred door of heavy oak without a summons from him. Artelda occasionally did so in order to manifest her perfect freedom of thought and action. Lalwen had other motives.

Today, she was venting her feelings about a small disagreement that Nolofinwë had had with Fëanáro, incidentally at Arafinwë's house, on the preceding Day, when their younger brother had invited the entire family to a celebration of his daughter's homecoming from several Years of study in the house of Yavanna.

All had been going well, until Fëanáro had dragged the conversation around to his favourite subject of the wonders of Middle-earth. His ideas on the subject were not to Nolofinwë's liking, especially not when rammed down his throat during one of those unbearable social encounters with his half-brother which always left him feeling as if he had been flayed alive and then pricked all over with pins. Marketplace gossip, that was all they were, such as he should have thought that a son of Finwë would scorn to listen to, let alone repeat and elaborate.

"Yes, darling," Lalwen said, in what she no doubt imagined to be a tone of patient entreaty, but what was in fact an infuriating whine, "but that does not answer the question of why you must go out of your way to aggravate him, does it?"

The conversation had ended with Nolofinwë calling Fëanáro's theories rubbish and Fëanáro himself little better than an enemy to the Valar.

"I do not go out of my way to aggravate him," he returned now, "he goes out of his way to aggravate me."

"Nonsense! You know you upset Aro."

"Oh dear. Did I upset poor little baby Aro, then?"

"I think you should apologise to Fëanáro. And to Arafinwë. His house is not some kind of convenient battleground for you two idiots."

"Try thinking something else."

"Talking to you is like shouting at a brick wall!"

"You certainly do shout."

"Oh Aulë! Nolofinwë, are you even listening to me, or have you turned off some little door in your head that says you must be right and I must be wrong?"

"I do not know what you are talking about."

"I am talking about your smug face!"

"Really? I had no idea. I thought we were talking about Fëanáro."

"Damn you, you know what I bloody well mean!"

"There is no need to puncture the air in defence of harmony, sister mine. And those who desire peace would do well to stop short of violence in the quest."

Lalwen sucked in a deep breath of air and made a conscious effort to be calm.

"If you did not make such a point of being righteously offended by his stuff," she hissed, "Fëanáro would shut up, wouldn't he, you utter fool?"

"Fëanáro's 'stuff' is dangerous."

"As if you care what he says."

"What do you mean?"

"You know damn well what I mean!"

"Give me credit for some maturity, Lalwen."

"When I see it!"

"Fëanáro's words can influence the susceptible."

"Unlike yours! Just like a jealous child, you are!"

"We are going in circles, sister mine. If you would be so kind as to leave my study..."

"No! Oh, Nolo, please, just listen to me!"

"I have heard everything that you have to say."

"But you have not listened to it!"

"I have."

"Then you won't do it any more?"

"Won't do what any more?"

"Won't allow Fëanáro to provoke you into quarrels."

"My dear Írien -"

"How dare you 'Írien' me!"

"My dear sister-"

"I'm sick of it, Nolo, sick to death of it, d'you hear me? Listen! Fëanáro will be going on one of his 'little trips' in a few Days. I don't ask you to do anything before he leaves! When he comes back, I want you - I beseech you! - to be civil to him. You can make a new start. Please?"

But Nolofinwë's dark head was turned away from his sister; he was pretending to write a letter.