Chapter 7

(Fëanor)

Originally, he had never needed or wanted a personal assistant to help him maneuver around his own workspace. The idea was just too absurd for his pride to accept.
Fëanor only gave in to the ridiculous notion because his sons would not stop insisting on it.
How had he become so incompetent?

When Elrond informed him that a Secondborn maid would both be his healer and helper, he laughed in derision. He was prepared to give the girl a fairly difficult time and knock her off balance.

The day Fëanor first saw her during his ride back home to Enedduin from a visit to his biological Amil, Míriel, Lady Khánh looked like a hovering gnome to him; almost witch-like with her dark cloak and glum presence.
Upon closer look, he changed his mind for how could any supernatural being look so plain? There was nothing about her that stood out.
He knew that generally speaking, the Edain females could never compete with the beauty of the Firstborn women, but Khánh did not seem to be regarded as anything exquisite by her own people either.

Of course, his Nerdanel was no dazzle in terms of Elven requirements. Her flaming curls, supreme artistic skills and the feminine way she carried herself made her outstanding to him over anyone conventional of their kind.

So Fëanor planned to brush off the mortal woman who would be his assistant only he never expected Khánh to surprise him on so many occasions. A mere mouse of a chit alarmed him, a weathered and seasoned Elven King of the Noldor who had fought countless battles, traveled further and had countless more life experiences than Khánh could ever hope to have.

But then she had looked at him. Across from him, Khánh gazed into him with her titillating, brown eyes he was growing to both resent and adore.
Her scrutinization of him was not that of the usual mindless admiration he spurned. In fact, to his frustration and excitement, she could not give a Varda's tit about impressing him. She looked to be judging, someone most certainly of a higher level than her, straight – Assessing every piece of his mind and soul.

She might not actually have the power to do that, but damned if it did not feel like she knew the spell to pierce into his core.

Rapidly, Khánh was not so plain to him.

Her South-Eastern features which marked her not from these lands made her look interesting. Her common brown eyes now looked rich and enthralling.
Her light, brown skin invited the need to touch. Her dark hair fell near her collarbones; so short for a woman which was odd – He wanted to run his fingers through it.
But most of all, she was so small. At times, Fëanor felt like a towering giant looking down at her. It felt like if he did not handle her with care, she would break.

Against his better senses, he was looking forward to their encounters more and more.

oOo

To Khánh's chagrin, the mercurial Master of Enedduin was not just an imposing and willful authority in her current home, but in her mind as well. Despite the castle being by no means small, she could hear his thunderous voice booming at Elrond, his sons and the cook even at the opposite side of the house.
He had an omnipresent and powerful way of speaking for all to hear despite not exactly yelling.

More often than not, his changeable demands and gruff barks were directed at Khánh.

'Khánh, fetch me my wine, will you?'

'Don't dawdle, Adaneth. I need you to have the forge free of soot and dust by noon so I can work.'

They were constant, abrupt and can be frustrating especially now that she was so busy since Fëanor's return. There was never a day when she was not kept on her toes.

But then there were the truly mind-maddening and confusing moments when Fëanor showed that he could be benign and especially sensitive. His deep voice remarkably soothing to listen to.
During one of their healing sessions where Khánh finally released his newly recovered leg from its bandage and crutch, he revealed that the reason why his body was so weak and trembling was due to the Valar's will.
Their decree was due to Fëanor's very own hands and mind that caused so much turmoil and bloodshed throughout the centuries. His punishment for living in peace in Arda After was to not regain the usage of his once superior physical body for a period of time.

"I will be looking forward to the day my hands recover its old strength," Fëanor told her. "So, I have high expectations from you and your healing abilities. Without my work and forge, I have nothing."

Khánh told him who was she to go against or even try to reverse the Valar's powers. Still, she stayed with him and assisted him with whatever she could.

When she was not helping him, Khánh was not able to see him as much as she would like. He was either shut away in his office when not in the mood to socialize with anyone or he was attending mandatory meetings with important Elven officials, Kings and figures.

During one of those once-in-a-blue-moon leisure times, sometimes he sought her out. Fëanor was always challenging and confrontational about any and all topics of discussion. He was demanding and direct when he questioned her. Khánh learned that she could not be simple with this man.

If she made an offhand comment like: 'I never liked eating calf's head'

after a supper one evening which specifically had calf's head as one of the main courses, Fëanor could not let it go. He'd ask why and what was it about the dish that disgusted her. Did she not like the taste or the texture? What foods did she like? What human cuisines did she find delicious and when would she introduce it to him? Did she think mortals were superior at cooking?

Usually, Khánh was more than happy to answer his incessant whims. Other times, she got irritable. Fëanor was, she learned, incredible at reading people and loved to watch the myriad of emotions on her face with rapture.
Instead of deterring him, her infrequent snaps spurred him to continue.

Every so often, she liked to explore the arts and crafts spaced around the castle whether by Fëanor's own work or someone else's. Jewelry, weaponry and things that he generally liked to spend hours shining and polishing by the fire did not hold much appeal to her. Rather, it was the statues that were fascinating – mostly because they were all of people.
She saw no one she recognized, but by their tall statures and delicately pointed ears, she knew they were Elves or a higher being.

Fëanor told her he made very few of them and most of the sculptures were conjured by the hands of his estranged, former wife.

Khánh secretly loved the marbled figures who were in their most authentic and true form that came with them the day they were born – In the naked state.
Being a woman, she had a pretty good idea of what the female composition consisted of.

As a healer and herbalist in mortal cities, tradition and rules dictated she only be allowed to treat women if clothes must come off for the procedure. She had very little experience with men, being a chronic, unmarried virgin even in this life.
What little she saw were accidents of her father and little cousins all of which were unflattering sights to see.

Edain men, like the women, came in all sorts of shapes, sizes and color. Some were prone to be hairy in both bodies and faces. The opposite seems to hold true for Elven men and the carvings showcased it; all cold smoothness.

This one statue creation of a male Elf particularly caught her attention because he looked like the intriguing Master of the House. Actually, it looked exactly like him, only the figurine was not clad in clothing. Every eye, muscle, structure and facet of Fëanor was shaped and molded almost perfectly – Bringing the statue to life.
Like it was made by the skillful and roughened hands of someone who loved him. His wife probably.
Khánh's heart squeezed.

"Why are you staring at his penis so intensely?"

Khánh jumped at the baritone interrupting her downcast thoughts. Her eyes returned to the alien-looking anatomy exclusively born to males. It seemed different than the ones she had seen on mortal men and she answered the first thing that came to mind.

"It is um – very big."

Silence.

She colored and glanced at Fëanor who stood there with his eyebrows raised. He was in his riding gear.

"It was going to tell you, Lady Khánh, that you are required." Required?

She followed him out of the art room; trying to catch up with his very long legs.

"It is a sin for someone who has lived as long as you to have barely traveled," Fëanor began with his usual, condescending tone; stopping by his bedroom.
"So, we are going to go on a little camping excursion – To Eldamar."

"Excursion?" Eldamar?" Khánh protested at the abrupt plan of a spontaneous trip. "Sir, we have work to do."

"Oh bullocks. You and I have been cooped up in this infernal castle for months on end, doing the same thing repeatedly. Do not tell me you are not bored out of your mind," He eyed her critically.
"Do you not own any clothing that are not dresses?"

She shook her head slowly in a daze. Fëanor pulled her into his chambers.

Inside his room, Khánh instantly warmed all over. Surely this was not appropriate? But then Fëanor was not the type to care what an inkling of propriety was.
His walls were all grey and wooden save for the stone fireplace.
The bedsheets were dark and the blankets looked to be made from the coat of a grizzly bear. There were no mirrors in the room.

"It is a good thing I already had Celegorm packed a goodly majority of our supplies. Your mare, Tiril, is prepared and at the stables waiting," He opened his boudoir, rummaging through.
"But you need appropriate attire. The seamstress has only sewn gowns for you."

He held up an overlarge, white tunic and a pair of black tights.

"You are very small. The shirt is big, but it is comfortable for mobility and the outdoors. Put them on," Fëanor tossed the items to Khánh.

Catching the articles, she felt the fabrics curiously.

"My lord. You realize this is very odd," She remarked.

He ignored her and called over his shoulder before he left the room: "Make haste about it. We are leaving in twenty minutes sharp."

When the door shut, Khánh shyly brought the tunic to her nose and inhaled it – soft, clean linen and distinctively him.

She shrugged out of her brown dress and pulled the tights on as a pair of trousers. They were loose and she was forced to roll the length up to her knees at least ten times so that it wouldn't drag on the ground.
The tunic, she swam in. She found one of Fëanor's leather straps on the candle table. She used it as a belt around her waist to tuck the shirt in.

Out in the hallway, Fëanor waited for her, leaning against the wall. Checking out how she assembled herself, he took a pause but nodded approvingly.

"Here is a filled up waterskin," He handed her a satchel. "Drink up. It is going to be a long ride."

"Is Maedhros and Maglor coming with us?"

"Unfortunately, no. They have their own work and armies to attend to. They cannot afford leisure yet."

Outside, Tiril neighed at her happily and trotted to nip her head. Celegorm was on his mount. All the packs were hanging off the sides of the rides.

The light-haired Fëanorian scowled.

"Oh. You are coming too?" He asked with a sigh.

"I am afraid so according to your father's wishes."

The white wolf, Huan, seemed to look very pleased to see Khánh. He came to lick her fingers, eliciting an affectionate head rub from her. Celegorm's two hounds were active and present as well.
Celegorm looked reluctantly at the two of them.

"Huan likes her, huh? I suppose this means I should tolerate the mortal."

"As you should. You are a grown Elf, Tyelko," Fëanor stepped up with his own stallion, swinging his leg over it.
"Lady Khánh is my respected assistant and you shall cease your childish tantrums, boy."

Celegorm looked at his father in shock. What was this new behavior from his Atar?

They had set off riding with Fëanor as the lead naturally. He told them the travel from Formenos to the bay of Eldamar would be at least a two-day's ride at fast speed.

"If I had known we were taking a few day's holiday from Enedduin sooner, perhaps I could have packed more suitably, my lord," Khánh told him, peeved.

Fëanor was unflappable and even looked at her with ridicule.

"My word, Lady Khánh. You are as tight-laced and high-maintenance as the Vanyar. Perhaps you should go inhabit with their lot, kowtowing to useless Gods and frilly laces. Nay, lady. The point of an adventure worth your time is one where you only take the unimportant trinkets with you and forget all the essential necessities at home."

"Was that the logic that swayed your army of thousands?" Khánh asked mildly and Fëanor huffed with laughter.

"Cheeky wench."

Khánh had always appreciated nature and sceneries of trees, greens and flowers in the spring and summer. During winter, she enjoyed the snow.
In Arda Before, she was often stuck dwelling inside the cold, city walls seeing nothing but white, man-made buildings and people with stern faces.
She went outside into the safe parts of the forests whenever the opportunity arose.

With the chance to see Elven Havens here in Arda After, Eldamar's landscapes were different than the ones in the old Middle Earth she knew.

The evergreens and grass were just as rich as the ones in Enedduin. The mountains were your company rather than something to be seen from far. Once in a while, trees that grew the most vibrant red leaves would appear.
Khánh saw the occasional traveling elves giving the Fëanorians either dirty looks or expressions of fear and unwilling admiration.
If Fëanor noticed, he gave no signs of acknowledging it and put on a credible air of careless arrogance.

Celegorm, on the other hand, was more open with his indignant emotions.

The four of them had stopped at a bay that led out to sea when Huan sniffed out a good spot to make camp.
The weather was gradually growing warmer and especially here in Eldamar, it was downright hot.

"This is beautiful, my lord," Khánh breathed and quickly got off Tiril. The mare followed her to the beach. Khánh rolled up the tights to her thighs, took off her boots and dipped her toes into the soaking sand.

"If one wanted to bathe in this ocean, they could," She declared. "The water is just the right amount of cool."

"Normally, I am not averse to the idea. But to bathe, one needs to unclothe themselves and you would be giving me and all the other males here an eyeful. Not that I am complaining on my part, but I don't want my son getting any ideas," He dumped a bunch of bark and kindling to build a fire.
Khánh blushed and stepped away from the water.
She wished he would quit saying such ludicrous and suggestive quips – confusing her.

Khánh went to sit down beside the royal Elf before the set up.

"Should you be exerting your body so soon?" She asked. "I have not done anything to help. How can I be of use, my lord?"

"First, you can call me Fëanor like I've asked before," He replied, tossing away the rocks he used to spark the flames.
"Second, my body has much improved as you can see. I can twiddle my fingers and shake my buttocks just fine. You have been working the whole time back at Enedduin. Here is your second chance at the outdoors and a bit of travel. Simply enjoy yourself."

Khánh smiled softly.

"Yes, my lord."

He arched a brow.

"Yes, Fëanor."

Celegorm returned from his fishing trip with a net full of trout.

Father and son helped clean and descale the fishes before placing the food over the open flames to cook.

It was truly amazing to Khánh. Here she was, sitting with two legendary figures that were both a King and Prince as they were criminals – Older than Elrond and King Elessar's wife by far.
And she was freely speaking with them like longtime friends.

"Have you never been to the ocean before, Khánh?" Fëanor asked, handing her a stick of fish.

"No, I have not," She thanked him and bit into the hot, crispy skin. "So, forgive me if I overreact at seeing it for the first time. It is too lovely and I want to be here always."

Fëanor frowned as he chewed the meat noisily. She twitched.

"Won't you get bored?" He responded. "There are many places you have not seen yet."

"I am sure there are. But for now, I want to appreciate things one step at a time," She replied quickly. Restless man!

Celegorm looked back in the direction of his fishing spot with a distasteful look.

"Thanks to the nature of Arda Remade – all races joining in one land and all. Humans think they could negligently enter Elven territories whenever they please now. There were a few male Secondborn who have seen fit to steal our game earlier in these lands."

Fëanor was silent. He finished his meal and Khánh stiffened. Could she pretend to be alright with Celegorm's attitude towards her kind any longer?

"And why does that bother you, Tyelko?" Fëanor asked neutrally.

"Eldamar is a sacred Elven sanctuary. I would at least understand mortals intruding into Imladris; a city ran by Macalaurë's adopted, half-breed son, but any lands primarily part of Valinor is sacred," He groused. "And should be untouched by humans in the last life or this one."

Khánh's anxiety went up and she took a deep breath. Fëanor watched her, interestedly.

"The other Elves did not look like they were actively prohibiting the Edain's entrance into Eldamar," She spoke. "Regardless, I do not think any race own the sea or its creatures of Ulmo."

Celegorm glanced at her dubiously.

"Many of the gifts of the Valar were for the Eldar and the Eldar alone. To hunt, adorn and eat. Since when they have ever cared for mortals?"

Khánh often asked the same question herself. She broke the stick in half to throw away later.

"Since humans have seen fit to also hunt, eat and survive with whatever we could find in the wilderness since the dawn of time, those men had every right to the fishes as you did – To breathe as you do. It is not Lord Elrond's fault he is of mixed heritage," She heard her voice raise higher vehemently with each syllable.

"Oh, do stop being dramatic and emotional, woman," Celegorm rolled his eyes, taking a swig of his water.
"I never said you bunch couldn't breathe; just dull. Your outburst just now is why the Secondborn lack critical thinking."

Khánh seethed and grinded her teeth. If she started berating Fëanor's third son right there, not only would it make her look bad as the hired help, but she would also be proving him right about 'emotional and dull' humans.

Fëanor draped an arm around his son's shoulder and pulled him close.

"Hear me, Tyelkormo," He said into Celegorm's ear, but loud enough for her to listen.

"You are rash and have made many wrong judgments; this being one of them. Not all mortal creatures are dull at all."

"Really, Atar?" Celegorm looked doubtful.

"Truly so," Fëanor nodded with conviction. There was an amused light in his eyes.

"Some of the Aftercomers can have a rather grey and unassuming outside appearance. Others can be inelegant or rough around the edges. But once you get to know them, you will see a multitude of colors and qualities. A radiant azure and passionate crimson perhaps."

Trying to fight back a smile, Khánh said wryly:

"You make them sound like a parrot."

"A parrot? Rubbish," Fëanor denied. "A Bird of Paradise – One of the treasures of Arda. It transcends time and place. Its beauty exquisite and hard to follow. And once it has been found, you never want to let it go. And there is one right here so clearly amongst us."

"Yes, well – You have fun with your mythical bird, Atar," Celegorm rolled out his travel bedding a few feet further than the dimming campfire.

Once the Elf let out a few snores, Khánh turned to Fëanor.

"Sir, please do not patronize me," But she did not sound the least bit affronted.

"Patronize? What do you mean? I was sincere from the bottom of my heart," Fëanor looked at her innocently.

She gave him a look. He stood up from his spot and held out a hand to her.

"Come walk with me. You wanted to explore the sea did you not?"

The two of them walked along the beach with their bare feet. Laurelin had set and Telperion and Tilion shown brilliantly in the dark sky. The tide had come up and the waves low and peaceful.

"I know what you are thinking. Your face tells me more than you need say."

"I have no idea what you are talking about, my lord," Khánh replied.

"'My lord' again? You are putting me at a distance deliberately," Fëanor complained and Khánh smiled serenely.

"You think me a terrible father. That I did not raise my child right and the group of us are misbehaved and detestable."

"I cannot deny that I find Celegorm unpleasant sometimes. Humans can be terrible and are prone to destroy beautiful things. As much as I resent it, I do not totally fault the prejudice from the Eldar," She spoke.

"You are aware and can see the flaws of your own people. But so can I with the Firstcomers. We are too arrogant and boast of great intellect and talents. But it is exactly my –" He paused; his eyes ablaze.
"That hubris and self-importance that governs blindness. Tyelkormo is vain, hasty and self-absorbed. I erred in having spoiled him so young – thinking he was a flaming kindred as myself."

Khánh frowned.

"Your son is an adult, Fëanor. It has gone two worlds and two lives. He is free to think and discover for himself," She shook her head, incredulous.
"You are no more responsible for his words or actions than he is."

"But he idolized his father," Fëanor said bleakly.
"Even now, after all my sins. Especially what I had made my children go through. I was the cause. I still am a stubborn fool and I cannot pretend to be some wise and compassionate sage to start preaching to my child now."

Khánh shivered and it was not only due to the night's chill. She was stepping out of her bounds too easily as of late.

Interrupting their stroll to face the former, vengeful King of the Noldor:

"Sir, with all due respect, step out of your self-pity. This conversation is not about Celegorm anymore, is it? You were once called the mightiest Elf for a reason."

She stared into his eyes and emphasized what she really thought.

"Talk to your son. Talk to whoever you need and help guide their paths once again. Be that change you wanted to see once again."

oOo

A/N: Celegorm's bigotry and words are variations I have seen thrown at people of my ethnicity. I wrote it out to see how it would sound out loud with a character saying it to another character.

- Character MBTI Types -

Fëanor: ENTJ 8w9 sx/sp

Khánh: INFP 4w3 sp/so

DO NOT debate with me on Khánh's type as I have already dictated it as her creator and as someone who have studied typology for years. Feel free with Fëanor, however, as he is not mine and up to interpretation.

Names and Translations

Secondborn, Aftercomers, Edain – Humans

Atar – Father

Amil – Mother

Adaneth – Mortal woman

Tyelko/Tyelkormo – Celegorm