"So there we were, alone in the dark. Myself, your uncle, and my best friend, King Olwe's older brother. The trees were so thick we could hardly see the stars through the canopy. Dark surrounded us from all sides.
We would later learn that, at this time, the Valar were already eagerly expecting our arrival, thinking about how they could make the world safe and ready for us to step foot in it. For that purpose alone had some of the greatest constellations been put in the skies, and their light had reached us indeed – I know now also that we could never have withstood the Marrer if we should truly have encountered him.
Yet at this time, we did not know this. All we knew was that people kept disappearing. All manner of people – people who were important to our communities, to our hearts and souls. To me, the thought of just waiting and doing nothing seemed all but unconscionable. As for my friend Elwe, his very own parents had been among the first of the victims; thus, he was determined to protect his remaining kin at any cost. We would have gone to seek the enemy with us or without us, and his friends, your uncle, and I could not bear to let him go on his own.
We were resolved that we should return to our people together, or not at all, though we only had such simple weapons as our people could contrive at the time – we had little more than a simple wooden spear with a flint tip, a wooden bow strung with hemp fiber, and a sword made from a crude copper alloy that I had fashioned myself.
We said our goodbyes to our friends and our families, and departed into the night. In my heart, I knew that we would not have to walk for long – I suspected that whatever was out there was so far beyond us that it was sure to take note of our challenge. And yet, I walked on. And then..."
The King paused at this point to gauge the expressions of his children.
Findis had never been too fond of the frightening stories – even now that she was older, her father still had to take care not to upset her too much. The littlest prince was nestled in her arms, nuzzling his little face against her neck, and yet it seemed like she deriving no less comfort from holding him than he did from being held. It would be natural then to assume that the younger children would if anything, be even more frightened, but such was not the case.
Prince Arakano and his sister Lalwen were listening to the tale with rapt attention, hanging onto their father's every word, observing his every gesture with big, curious eyes.
"...and then..?"
Those two were ever so enthusiastic about storytime.
Taking in the idyllic sight of the four of them huddled close on an ornate couch, the king felt a definite pang of fondness and much gratitude for his good fortunes.
He felt the slightest tinge of melancholy, too, when he considered that there was once another child who had greatly loved his tales and ever needled him with insistent questions about every possible detail.
"We soon marked the presence of a shadow close behind us. Something rustling in the bushes. Stalking us, closing the distance. We were forced to wonder if this was exactly what had happened to all the ones we had lost. We knew well that it might have been futile to try and lose our pursuers, but there was no need to even try: We were not going to run from that which we had been seeking. Instead, we drew our arms, and exchanged some last glances. Whatever lurked in the dark beneath the stars, we were willing to face it head-on."
"...and then, Lord Orome showed up and saved you all?" suggested Findis, not at all very sure. Although she was nearly grown into a young lady, her voice sounded small.
The king, though smiling warmly to reassure her, shook his head.
"We couldn't have known what it was we were faced with – indeed with what little we knew, we had much more reason to suspect that we would encounter a foe than a friend. At that time, there were no other speaking peoples apart from us, other than our enemies, which we hardly understood, and the Valar and Maiar themselves, which we knew nothing about. The prospect that we might find friends beyond the boundaries of our villages was not one we would have thought of.
On our journeys to Valinor and back, we would get many chances to discuss the experience, and so I learned from your uncle that he had then already suspected that we were in the presence of something holy rather than foul. Why that is I cannot say, but he has told me that he felt it in his heart – somehow, he had faith that we were not meeting our death, but our salvation. Elwe however once confessed to me that he expected nothing but his doom, though he was willing to face it on his feet though our errand be ever so hopeless."
That's when the youngest child cautiously extricated his fair little face from his sister's shoulder, speaking in a voice whose measured tones and clear words would have been accounted surprising for such a small child even among the Eldar: "...and you, father? What did you think?"
"I didn't have so much as the foggiest idea. But I knew that I would never find out, if I did not stand and face that thing in the darkness. Still, we were very, very fortunate that no more was asked of us that day than just the courage it took to refrain from running away."
The king's face was grave as he related this part, and sensing this, the children were more subdued in their excitement than they might otherwise have been. Even so, the older boy's opinion was clear.:
"That was very brave of you, father."
"That may be, but it was mostly an act of desperation. If we had not met Lord Orome, but succeeded in seeking out the black rider in truth, the three of us would not have stood a chance."
…
It used to be that Findis' younger siblings were never as good at hiding as she was at seeking them.
They were small, noisy and excitable; She was perceptive and diligent – but most of all, she'd had a significant height advantage.
As of late though, it would seem that whatever advantages she'd ever had were rapidly evaporating – either that, or the little ones were simply getting better and better at hiding.
She would have thought that at little Ingoldo would make an easy target, since she was only just old enough to understand the game, but though he had finally started talking (and in fact, surprised everybody by producing complete sentences right away) he still retained an extraordinary gift for being very, very quiet.
Once, Lalwen had searched a room three times before realizing that her tiny, golden-haired brother had been crouching behind the curtains all along – but not before the small boy had politely revealed himself so that his sisters get worried about him.
Of course, one might excuse this from Lalwen, since she was only about five years older than him, but as the Responsible Older Sister, Findis figured that she should have no problems prying the other three from their hidey-holes.
Which is why her current struggle to do this was driving her near the brink of despair.
Where could they be? She'd looked everywhere! The throne room, the ballroom, the banquet hall… it was previously agreed upon that they were not allowed to stray into the administrative wings, the servant's quarters or anywhere else that was currently occupied or otherwise in use, so as not to bother the hardworking palace staff with their games, but most of the actual royal dwelling was fair game… and by now, Findis was certain that she must have combed through each of the many rooms at least twice, if not more.
She'd make sure to look everywhere! Behind all the chests, curtains and banners, under all the tables… Could it be that they were making her go in circles, leaving each part of the palace just as she was about to enter? But how could they leave so quickly, without making any conspicuous noise?
The little princess was beginning to get just a little frustrated. When they'd started this game, the light of Laurelin had been nearing its hour of greatest brightness – by now, the intensity of its radiance was already on the wane.
With a heavy heart, Findis considered that it might be time to throw the towel. Only, that it occurred to her, that it would do little good now to declare her surrender. She wasn't comfortable with the idea of shouting loudly all over the place, which didn't seem at all like the action of a proper lady, or a sensible person – but even if she did, was there even any guarantee that her younger siblings would even hear her? The palace of Tirion was big, and the little princes and princess could be concealed in almost any part of it. So if they weren't anywhere near where Findis was standing, how would they ever know to stop hiding?
It seemed a serious conundrum.
Her upper lip quivered just an itty bit.
What could she do?
Normally when she didn't know how to proceed, she would dutifully consult her parents, but mother was out in town attending the grand opening of a new public library, and father was in his study, embroiled in very important royal documents.
It would not be as bad as disturbing him during a meeting, or while he was holding court, but Findis figured that any papers that were important enough to wind up on the royal desk in the first place must be important indeed. They must be essential for the upkeep of the city and its surrounding estates! To look through them was father's solemn duty, just as it would have been Findis' task to mind her siblings. She'd even gone and promised that they'd be fine without a governess!
She'd been looking forward to hearing father's praise for how responsible she had been… but how could this ever happen, if she didn't have the foggiest idea where Lalwen and her brothers could possibly be.
She began to consider all the rooms again, and which of them might possibly have any hiding-places that she hadn't considered yet…
Looking at the situation only from this one side, one might get the impression that the royal children might be playing a somewhat mean prank on their older sister, but such was not their intention – if anything, they had hoped to entertain her with the added challenge, but for the most part, their thoughts were somewhere else entirely:
The young prince Nolofinwe had taken quite a shine to his father's adventurous stories, and at the moment liked to picture himself as a grand chieftain leading his people onward to parts unknown.
With a boisterous, conspiratorial smile, he had presented his grand plan to his siblings: "Today, we're gonna hide out somewhere where Findis is never gonna find us."
"But how could this be," questioned Lalwen curiously, "She's been living here for the longest time out of all of us – I don't think there would be a single hiding spot left in these walls that she doesn't know."
"Oh, but there is!" her older brother boasted with a smirk, looking rather pleased with himself: "'Cause today we're gonna try hiding in the North Wing!"
That, however, did give his younger sibling a little bit of pause.
Little Arafinwe, in particular, looked somewhat troubled by the suggestion: "But no one ever goes in there… are we even allowed to go?"
"Well, Father said we can go anywhere where we won't bother the staff, and we can't bother any staff if no one goes in there. Besides, I've seen Curufinwe walk in there once – If he can do it, then why can't we? We share the same rank."
This would have been a sound argument, if it did not fail to take into account that Nolofinwe and his little trouble of siblings were a bunch of little kids, while their half-brother was, at this point, an accredited loremaster, a certified master artisan, an accomplished inventor and, most salient of all, a grown man with his second child on the way – but in defense of the young prince, he was now the oldest he had ever been and fancied himself Very Mature.
His glowing speech was good enough for his sister, who clapped her little hands together in great excitement. Her eyes had filled with sparkles while most of her face was taken over by a great big smile.
"That's the best idea ever! You're the greatest, Arakano!"
Now that was something that Prince Nolofinwe sure liked to hear – not just that he was great, or greater than others, but greatest. A bold, triumphant feeling swelled his little chest as he basked in the princess' admiration: "You're the coolest brother ever! ...apart from Ingoldo, of course."
Said youngest child, however, was not looking too convinced, in spite of the little encouraging squeeze his sister had just given him.
But, as his older siblings merrily went skipping towards their objective, he followed along however reluctant, for he figured that what would be yet worse than entering a forbidden place would be to be stuck there on his own.
"Are you sure that this is a good idea?"
"Fear not, little brother! Everything's gonna be great!"
Everything was not great for princess Findis when she at last ended up barging into her father's office after all, holding back sobs, with tears glittering at the edges of her eyes.
"I'm sorry! I really didn't wanna bother you, and I know you're doing important king stuff and all, but I can't find Lalwen or my brothers- I'm really sorry-"
Fortunately, the princess' distress did not last very long, once her father calmly rose from his desk and pulled her into a comforting hug.
"Do not worry," he assured her, taking her by the hand as he led her out of the room, "As king, it is my duty to help all the citizens of Tirions with their problems – that includes the littlest ones. Now, did you check the alcove behind the curtains in the ballroom?"
One by one, the king listed a long string of possible locations, until they had been narrowed down to just one option – an option that his daughter wouldn't have thought up, though she could not help but notice the sobering of his expression as the conclusion formed in his mind.
"I think I know where they are."
The princess noted also that her usually talkative father did not say much as he led her down an unfamiliar sequence of turns, to a part of the residence that she'd only ever passed by.
They entered some hallways that she was used to being led past every day, but had never once walked down. Unlike with the other places she wasn't allowed to go, princess Findis couldn't really name what was actually past here, but very soon, the decorations began to look unfamiliar, clashing with the style she had come to expect in the rest of the palace, the light, elegant ornaments chosen according to her mother's tastes.
This place was hung with heavy dark colors and saturated vibrant hues of almost ostentatious, baroque opulence. Especially notable were the textile works – tapestries, tablecloths and curtains, each and every one a marvel such as a master artist might produce just once a lifetime, except that the littlest accessory was resplendent with masterful embroidery, the sort that one would maybe commission once or twice in their life for their wedding or their child's majority gift.
The princess was reminded of one of her friends, the daughter of a lord who in his spare time, liked to do pottery – He loved to be at work day in, day out, for every free minute of his immortal life, so their mansion was filled with so much fine earthenware that you'd think they were running out of places to put it – it probably would have piled up, if he didn't gift the excess to his friends, or barter for it, or give it away to whoever had need of it.
The vibrant masterpieces covered everything, their colors undimmed by time – in the undying lands, even things left long unattended never collected any dust.
"It's so pretty…" marveled the young princess, more awestruck than excited. "I didn't know we had such a pretty place in our home! But why does it look so different from everywhere else?"
"That's because it hasn't been changed in a long, long time. Back when our people first arrived in Valinor, the artists used to be somewhat more adventurous with their styles. Not yet as tasteful, maybe, but just as lovely in its own way…" even as he said this, the king's expression took on a strange, contradictory quality, which confused his daughter in a way that she couldn't really articulate or grasp. She couldn't tell the memories bound up in these rooms were making him happy or sad, though these things ought to have been opposites in her understanding, and the thought that they might perhaps lay closer to each other than this might suggest unsettled her just the slightest bit, as if the ground on which she were standing were but a thin shell atop a gaping chasm.
"Then why don't we ever come here? Is this a bad place?"
"Not at all. This is the treasury that holds some of my most cherished memories – it's just that coming here makes me a little bit sad now."
"I don't understand, father... If it makes you sad, why would you keep it as it is?"
Simple and innocent as this question might have been, it left a minute crack in the king's composure – just for a moment, he had to grapple with some old pain before he could continue speaking, wearier than before:
"When your uncle and I chose to lead our people to this Blessed Realm, it was precisely so that you would never have to know that answer. It brings me joy to know that I have at least succeeded with you, though I was not able to do the same for your brother."
"You mean Curufinwe?"
"...yeah. You know the large balcony that you can see from the town square? It actually leads to this part of the palace. When this place was first built, this wing was intended as the actual royal dwelling. When your mother moved in, I had the master bedroom moved to the western side, so that your mother could wake up beneath the light of the trees and look out at the gardens and the holy mountain – it was the least I could do, after she had moved far away from her home just to be here with me. But I couldn't bring myself to get rid of all these things that used to belong to Curufinwe's mother – though even at the time, I didn't come here all that often anymore. I had more or less moved into my study once your brother was old enough to have these rooms all to himself – and in the end, he left as well, though he sometimes stays here with his family whenever he comes to visit, so for now, I'm leaving everything as it is.
See that statue over there? That was actually added just recently, by Miss Nerdanel… also, this is just my impression, but I think there might be something or someone hiding behind it, but I'm not certain – maybe you should go and check..."
As one might imagine, her siblings were eventually spied out and collected, but her father's words would continue to confound the princess Findis through the ages.
….
By the time that the youngest of the three princes had been born, it was no longer attempted to unite them all at the same table outside of formal feasts and public events, which mercifully tended to involve much longer tables.
The king and queen accepted that the forced, tortured debacles that resulted from their attempts had never brought the children anything other than dismay, and skipped right ahead to the inevitable result.
If the second prince showed up for lunch and found his father absent, it was not usually hard to guess where he had gone. His sisters would no longer even expect their father if they'd caught any signs of their half-brother's presence. Findis dutifully endured it; Lalwen put up a brave face and tried her best to stay positive, but as for their brother… he was a very pouty little boy on such occasions.
"But father was just telling us this cool story from the journey!"
"And I am sure he's looking forward to telling you the rest of it, when he gets the chance."
Seeing his mother and sisters just grin and bear it merely served to further prince Nolofinwe's displeasure, for he felt like it was his solemn duty to be outraged on their behalf also.
"I get it!" he spat, "Father likes Curufinwe better than us."
"Oh Arakano my dear – you know… you know that's not true…"
But he did not know that. He didn't even think that his mother sounded like she really, actually knew this, as always she was trying her best to be kind and strong, but the doubt was writ all over face, no matter how much Nolofinwe wished to hear her speak with absolute certainty, for whenever she did, he always believed her.
"It is true!" he retorted as if to shout over the absence of a certain answer, "It's like he forgets all about us whenever Curufinwe shows up! No, even when he isn't here, it's Curufinwe this, Curufinwe that!"
"You know it's not that simple-"
"Right. I know. We all have to put up with him cause he's such a terrible jerk that only a mother could like him. But since he doesn't have one, I guess father has to be the one person that likes him. I just wish he'd hurry up and go back to wherever he came from, so we can go back to being happy."
"Arakano. That's a very ugly thing you just said."
Her tone was not at all harsh, but it was firm –
His mother looked disappointed, and Nolofinwe hates disappointing his mother. But in this moment, that just made him madder. It just made him think how she was always trying to be fair and be nice and accommodate to every whim, every unfairness, even to the point of defending her ungrateful stepson, who only ever stepped and stomped and spat on that.
He hated that Feanaro had taught him what it feels like to hate something.
But before he could say or do something he would truly regret, the blaze of his displeasure was doused all at one by the touch of two tiny arms wrapping themselves around his chest.
"Don't be sad, Arakano. I love you." spoke the youngest child's tiniest voice, muffled from the way he'd pressed his little face into his brother's robes, hugging him close, as if somehow a great weight of importance depended upon it. "Mama and Lalwen love you too. And Findis. And your friends. Everyone loves you! So please, don't be upset. Please don't go."
"...what do you mean, Ingo? I'm not going anywhere..."
…
The birth of prince Kanafinwe was confusing to his uncle, by then, a tall boy inching on the edge of adolescence.
This was because he had always thought of his half-brother as the type who hates children – he used to be a child, and his siblings had been children, and Feanaro had never done anything else than to chase them off whenever they'd had the audacity to cross into his presence as if they had been trespassers in their own home.
Sure, there was Maitimo, but the elder prince was always so concerned about his status and his legacy that it wasn't hard to imagine why he'd want to secure his position in the succession – that much wasn't surprising, but what Nolofinwe didn't expect was that Feanaro would continue to have more children, least of all in such quick succession.
"I want them to be close enough together that they can be each other's playmates, so that they will grow close in friendship, and forge a bond that will last them all their lives-" he would confide to the King at the next great feast, the first time that the rest of the royal household had got to see him after receiving his announcement.
"I wish to grant my sons the gift of such companionship since I never had any brothers."
Never had any bothers.
The nerve of him, to say such a thing while Arafinwe was right there, playing in his father's lap, and the queen and all her progeny gathered there at the table.
The king was taken aback, but, as expected, there was no reprimand.
"That is very good," was all he deigned to say, his tone just a little sad and worn. "From the bottom of my heart, I hope they'll get along."
...
Nolofinwe didn't want to say the sort of things that would disappoint his mother.
It's just that this was the only way to get any reaction out of Feanaro that was something other than a haughty sneer – to get his attention at all.
Now he knew, for a fact, that he was in truth reflected in his eyes –
Now he could prove, at least to himself, that he would not back down from the terrifying light in that sneering bastard's eyes – that he was not afraid to face him with all of his tiny might.
Once the words started gushing out, he couldn't hold them back.
For once, it felt good to let loose all the poison he had swallowed up. He wondered if that's how Feanaro felt all the time, spewing his cutting remarks whenever he would.
Nolofinwe liked to think of himself as someone who played fair, but he knew that if he did, there's no way that he could have won against his brother's sharp, clever tongue.
He was so much bigger, so much well-versed in the ways of the words and well-armed with stinging barbs and cutting remarks -
The second prince had come to learn early that you couldn't hope to hold your own against a far mightier opponent without going all out:
"-at least unlike you, I don't go around taking out my misery at everyone in sight, like some sort of immature child, and you're supposed to be my older brother?Have you ever once in your life thought about the feelings of anyone other than yourself? Have you ever consider what it's like for father for you to come waltzing in here, offend his wife, start a quarrel in front of his entire court, and bring strife into his house? Father's been very patient with your lapses in judgment so far, but as his loyal son, it pains my heart to see his mercy rewarded with such ingratitude.
He showers all his attention upon you, and all you do in return is cause him to worry and embarrassment! Rather than assist him with the affairs of his realm, you are just another burden for him to carry!"
Nolofinwe knew at once that his aim struck true – and that he had gone too far.
His words had not been calculated, not at first, not like Feanaro's often were, but once he felt that he had drawn blood, in a manner of speaking, he did not let up:
Cause there was Feanaro, the radiant, the masterful, greatest-of-all-in-each-part, and he was gaping like a fish, and his left eyebrow was twitching furiously – where were his clever words now?
And it seemed just so tempting to double down:
"You're just. Too. Much. You're out of control. A liability for everyone. You think you're so great, but what you don't realize is that everyone's just walking on eggshells around you, waiting until you finally go away, giving you everything you please so that you don't throw a tantrum. But aren't you just a little too old to keep blaming everything on mother? We get it. You're miserable. That's no reason for you to go and take it out on everybody else! But no. You just can't stand for other people to be happy! You just can't stand that father found some happiness with mother and us – no, you'd rather that he'd be miserable forever. You'd rather make everyone miserable!"
"You- you accursed little brat- How- how dare you!"
Now he was really mad, his regal countenance transformed into something that was almost vulgar and feral.
If there was any sound comeback, Nolofinwe had no doubt that Feanaro would certainly have thought of it by now, but he hadn't, because he there couldn't be -
That's how Nolofinwe knew that he was right.
Now it was no small thing to behold the greatest of the Eldar in all his fury, but Nolofinwe didn't care, not at that moment.
He hoped only to cause a fuss so big that his father would finally have to interrupt it –
But no such thing took place.
Instead, it was the lady Nerdanel who rose from her seat, clearly incensed:
"Feanaro! What are you doing, yelling like this at a half-grown boy, and at an official function at that?! Are you out of your mind?"
A somewhat longer argument ensued between the two – it was only fortunate that both of their small children had been left at the house of Mahtan so as not to make them sit still through the lengthy proceedings at the palace.
Nolofinwe remained standing where he was, somehow just angrier still instead of feeling the relief he had expected until his mother ushered him and his siblings into a nearby room. She was too concerned with smoothing over the event to bother with doling out much scolding – or maybe she was just too shocked. She was reluctant to depart before she had visited at least a brief, cursory hug onto her eldest son, just as a token to indicate that he was still loved, though she couldn't have been feeling all that proud of him at that moment – He'd begun all this to defend her, but, in the end, it seems that he had accomplished little but to make himself yet another nuisance to her…
He had been so, so tired of just taking it.
Their mother was gone for a while until either of them dared to speak. Findis was picking at the wreath of leaves that was once on her head. Lalwen couldn't sit still, bouncing her legs and shifting in her seat, looking unusually glum – she had so been looking forward to this event.
Little Arafinwe was just being quiet.
None of them looked very much at the others, aside from Arafinwe, who watched everyone with shy apprehension.
The tension was so thick you could have cut it with a knife.
You could have heard a pin drop – or a voice, when it drew every eye to its origin:
"You didn't have to say it,"
Findis, now on the cusp of womanhood, wouldn't even look at her brother.
"We all know that Curufinwe is being impossible. There's no need to say it."
Nolofinwe was minded to suffer this, feeling his own shame rising up now that the steam had been blown off, but what he didn't count on was for young Lalwen to leap to his defense:
"So what? Should we just lie down and take whatever he says?!"
"If that's what will stop him from making a scene and shaming us all any further, then yes, we should.
Before you go scolding anyone about causing trouble for our parents and being out of line, you should first look at yourselves! Because of you two and your little cockfight, we have been shamed before the entire court. They're all going to look. They're all going to talk. They are all going to take this as much more proof that a shadow lies upon all our house."
"They won't." contradicted her brother, "They respect father too much. They'll just feel sorry for him, like they ought."
"Besides, it was all Curufinwe's fault!" added Lalwen – but Nolofinwe wasn't sure how he felt about that. He wasn't sure of his actions, or that they deserved to be that much agreed with.
Findis seemed to think so, too: "So what? So what if it was his fault. What good will it do to egg him on? He'll just take it out on all of us. Let's just… not cause any further impropriety."
"Now wait a moment, Findis!" interjected the younger sister, "You can't seriously be pinning this on Arakano! It was Curufinwe who started this. It was him who started everything-"
The two sisters were both stopped in their tracks when they each felt a little hand tugging on their gowns.
"Please don't fight-" their little brother urged them, softly but insistent, "It's okay, it's over now. Maybe both our brothers said some things that they shouldn't have, but, there's no more reason to fight anymore." He looked up at them with big, teary blue eyes. "Please do no more fighting."
Back then, that was enough – after this, they all sprung from their places and swiftly found themselves far too busy with consoling him to stir up any further trouble.
"Ohmygosh Ingoldo we're so sorry!" babbled Lalwen, clasping her little hands in front of her mouth.
Findis suddenly found herself in perfect agreement: "I never should have raised my voice in front of you!"
"Yeah! You're all right- I dunno what got into me. I shouldn't have let him get to me like that. I'm really sorry…"
"Will you apologize to Feanaro as well?"
asked the youngest, in that same earnest, innocent voice.
"I know he's not very considerate, and rude, and hot-headed, and proud, but you shouldn't have said that thing about how he's too much, and just makes everything worse for everybody. Nobody deserves to have that said to them, even if they're mean." he articulated earnestly, thinking that he must try as hard as he could to get this point across, though his siblings were astounded to hear such profound speech coming from the littlest among them. "He also has good points, and father loves him, and he is my brother, too. So please? Will you apologize to Feanaro as well?"
"Yes. Yes of course. On my honor."
(
The actual apology turned out to be a tepid, rigid thing, facilitated by the watchful eyes of the aggrieved-looked King and a very displeased Nerdanel, and hence, not at all a space where a true exchange of feelings was likely to occur.
The brothers each brought out their pre-prepared apologies like actors saying their scripted lines.
The one genuine line was Nolofinwe's, who, mindful of his little brother's presence, felt compelled to make an awkward addition to the lined he's carefully crafted:
"I don't actually think you make everything worse, obviously."
"Ah, I see." the elder prince mumbled, noncommittally.
Somehow, some part of him had still expected Feanaro to take back some insult of his own.
But they were expected to remain for a while at the same table and look peaceable, so they did.
Neither had much of an idea how to respond to each other's presence if it wasn't through reverse or hostility. At some point, one of them might have awkwardly asked for the other to pass the salt. Perhaps, an optimist might have remarked that the hostility had been a cover for this lack of knowing what to do with each other.
At last, Nolofinwe thought of something: "How's Maitimo?"
"Oh. Great. He's talking now. A lot, actually."
"Ah… next time, if you bring him, we probably shouldn't start arguing again. For father's sake as well."
"Yeah..."
)
...
Soon after Findis had reached the age of majority, she announced that she would be taking an ordinance in the priesthood of Varda, vowing to take no spouse and devote her life to reflection, study and pious service.
Granted, she'd never shown the inclination to marry to begin with and had always been strong in the faith, which made this not as much of a shocking sacrifice as it could have been, but she could have remained single and practiced her faith without making this the center of her life – in her statement on the matter, she had written that she had always felt that she owed her very life to the clemency of the Valar and that she looked forward to receiving their righteous guidance, though one might wonder if she longed for it so strongly because she had little trust in her ability to rightly guide herself, or if she had not felt this great desire for deliverance and purity because she felt upon herself the taint of an inadvisable union.
At the very least, her decision broadcast the intention to stay away from the affairs of state, reducing her position in the line of succession to even more of a formality, and that was for some considered a fortunate, even noble thing – if she didn't have any interest, then it was the right decision to do, a fortune she was afforded by being one of many siblings – neither of them would be pressured to shoulder their parent's legacy all on their own. It spoke well of her that she knew the worth of other things but power and chose to make room for those who were better suited instead of claiming for power and renown for its own sake, unlike, as it would later be added, certain other people…
That, at least, was what Findis was hoping for them to think – that they would see that she wasn't tainted. That they would all finally be satisfied and leave her be.
That Feanaro would leave her be, now that she was no longer a threat.
With her dark hair concealed under her traditional veil, she could have looked like any other Vanya, any other initiate looking to become an instrument for the designs of the Valar…
which was precisely what Findis was longing to be.
...
Princess Irime Lalwende was bored. Very bored. Extremely bored. Booored.
Under normal circumstances, she could always count on her older brother to do something fun with her, but as of late, he always seemed to be busy with his studies – he kept asking their father to let him sit in on royal business such as meetings and court sessions, eager to start doing his part to help administer the realm.
Her mother had told her that he was becoming a young man, and that this must be why he was looking now more and more to be respected as one and contribute to the larger world, reassuring her that she would surely catch up to him when it would be her turn to grow up too, but though Lalwen did, in fact, feel a little bit left behind, that wasn't really what had felt so off to her.
She didn't understand. The Nolofinwe that she knew and loved longed for recognition, yes, but he also loved nothing more than to go out riding with her.
"Come oon, play with me!"
"I can't right now."
"Our horses must be missing us!"
"I assure you that I am taking good care of them, and that the stablehands are making sure they get enough exercise."
"But I wanna go nooow, you never spend any time with me anymore!"
"I said not now!"
The young prince regretted those words almost as soon as he saw his sister's crestfallen look.
"-I'm sorry. I shouldn't be short with you. I promise I will make the time tomorrow. You're important to me, that's never going to change – even as we grow up. I swear it.
But this is exactly why I can't afford to slack off."
"Huh?"
"I've read the statute, you know? Not long ago. It talks over and over again about how great they think Curufinwe is going to be, but do you know what's also in there?
It says that we shall be great also. The Doomsayer's own words. - And I shall prove it. I have to.
I will, so that you and Findis and Ingo won't have to worry about it.
I must – I must do well at my studies, I must conduct myself beyond reproach, I must do my duty to our people and help father with the governance as soon as I can, so that Curifinwe's cronies will not find anything to fault us for. I am going to become the most noble, most dutiful prince that our people could ever wish for.
I'm going to prove that we're worth it – The exception, the complaints, and any nonsense of Curufinwe's. And maybe, just maybe, who knows – at the end of it, maybe he won't be getting all the praise in the world, and there might be just a little left over for us. At least, people stop running their mouths about father and mother, if there is nothing bad they can say about it.
I've got to make up for Curufinwe's mess. And for that, I've got to read these reports and know what's in them at the meeting tomorrow."
"...but you'll still play with me after that, won't you?"
"Of course. I'll meet you at the third golden hour, no matter what! …. but Lalwen, before you go-"
"...yes?"
"You can keep saying 'Arakano' when it's just us and our parents, but, when we're out in public, could you perhaps make a habit of addressing me more formally? I am Nolofinwe, high-prince of the Noldor – it is time I started acting like it."
"...Sure… Prince Nolofinwe…" She laughed a bit to cover the awkwardness.
That, more than anything, was the moment for which the princess Lalwen would never ever forgive her elder half-brother – this was the instant in which something inside her went hard.
In later days, much much later, when they were all grown and each of her brothers had had children of their own, she would often hear their contemporaries express much surprise at her nephews and niece – Turukano was deemed the one who most resembled his father, but as for the others, she would often hear people remark how they were surprised to find them such an energetic, adventurous bunch, when High Prince Nolofinwe (and later, High King Fingolfin) was such a proper, dignified person.
But those people never knew him like Lalwen did – when she looked at her niblings running wild in the hills, or smiling broadly in their dealings with their friends, she would remember the cheeky boisterous boy she had once known, and see, perhaps, what her brother might have been if he were not weighed down by such a heavy fate.
Lalwen herself never read the statute, not up to her old age – She didn't want it to change her. It was, above all, something concerned with her parents, and not with her, who had only come afterward.
If that's what it took for her to remain herself, if that's what it took for her to keep smiling, as her brother would undoubtedly want her to, then she wanted nothing to do with it.
She supposed she should count herself lucky that she could afford to do this, brought into this world when the succession was long since taken care of, for no other reason than for the joy of it, she could afford to remain just 'Lalwen', to ride through the land and do as she pleased without ever feeling pressured to let herself tied down in any way.
But she never forgot that she owned at least some of that freedom to the diligence of her elder brother.
…
As the golden light began to dwindle, the stream of petitioners was beginning to dwindle to a close. The king and queen of Tirion had every reason to consider this an all-around productive day.
The days in which Queen Indis had found herself mildly started by the occasionally much more heated tones of the debates compared with the audience sessions of her brother were long past, and in turn, many of the citizens had grown used to her, and she'd learned to live and wrangle even those ones who could never be convinced.
She surely never tired of watching her husband in his element, ever engrossed in animated conversation, though for today, she was looking forward to their chance to retire to the Gardens – but first, they would have to see the last two citizens who had announced themselves for today.
With a brief, routine gesture, the king indicated for the porter to let in the first one – only for the woman to stand back in surprise, and then perform a hasty bow.
It soon became apparent why, for the Elf coming through the door was no other than their older son, the High prince Nolofinwe – in some of his best robes, too. In his approach, he followed the protocol to a T, as any higher-ranking noble might, bowing deeply before he began to speak:
"My father and king… lady mother… I come to you with a humble request."
The king seemed, if anything, a bit befuddled by the stringent formality – "Arakano dear, if you wanted to talk with us, you didn't have to book a formal audience-"
"It concerns the future of the realm." the prince clarified.
"Alright then. Let's hear it."
"Very well. For many years now I have heeded your commands to the best of my ability and taken care now that my comportment befits a representative of our house and our whole people. I have refrained from any indiscretions or rushed, premature decisions-"
Unlike a certain somewhere who ran away to get married from one day to the next at just about the first opportunity, without consulting anyone at all.
"...but I believe now that the time is ripe for me to take a spouse. I ask now that you arrange a suitable match so far as you deem it proper."
"I see… Is there anyone in particular that you have in mind?"
"I leave this up to your discretion, so that it may benefit the interests of our house and our people."
The king paused thoughtfully as if he had been expecting something else.
"We'll think about it and let you know shortly, but, if there's anyone in particular that catches your eye, just let us know."
"Very well. Thank you."
The prince bowed deeply, and then left.
The royal pair exchanged a doubtful glance, but decided to talk over what they considered a personal matter once the last petitioner was taken care of...
Except that it turned out to be Lalwen, wearing a big, big grin.
Unlike her brother, she didn't bother very much with the ceremonials, swiftly stepping right up to her parents' thrones to lean in for a conspiratorial whisper: "He likes the Lady Anaire."
The king and queen shared a moment of fond laughter.
"I had my suspicions-" Indis confessed.
"Truly?" the king raised an eyebrow, "He did lavish great attention on her, but I was under the impression that his zeal was entirely toward his due diligence as a host."
"No dear, that would have been an excess of politeness even for him…"
The royal pair giggled, unabashedly enough that their nearby daughter rolled her eyes.
"So, what do you think? More grandkids?"
She forgave this lapse immediately because of the great enthusiasm apparent in his demeanor, but, she was keenly aware that this would be 'more' grandchildren only for him, since she had none as of yet.
"Expect none from me – I'm all down for being the cool aunt, but, I don't think I'm really the maternal type."
"We know this, and we support your choices, darling, but consider… the Lady Anaire and Arakano are both rather tall, do you think their children would be somewhere in between, or even taller?"
"Beats me!"
...
Of all the five siblings, if they were five, Arafinwe was, perhaps, the only one who had read the statute in its entirely and understood it as it was meant to be understood, in the way that the Valar intended, and in the contexts of the limited understanding and precedent of those early days.
He had come upon it rather incidentally, just as part of his studies as a scholar, and he tried his best to read it as he might read any other study materials that did not pertain to himself, trying to appraise it calmly and objectively, with both a scholar's distance and a wise man's empathy.
He recognized the good intentions as well as the limitations of everyone involved and thus, did not reach the end of the text with any particular grudge.
He did not presume that he could have done much better in place of the Valar or even in his father's stead, though he sighed deeply, looking out at the jewel-strewn beaches from his guest room in Alqualonde, whi had as of late become his favorite retreat from the city of his birth – he could not fault Feanoro all too badly for never spending any time there. He too, knew what it was like to stand out – back in Tirion, he was easily identified in any crowd on account of his distinctive golden head, and in Valmar, he was told that he talked much about anything and everything. People never seemed to know if they should relate to him as an insider or a stranger – of course, his siblings were all the same, but in their cases, people's initial assumptions quickly seemed to come down one way or another. This was part of why he liked it here – To the Falmari, he was just like any other stranger. He liked the people here – they were largely too engrossed in their daily works and the beauty of nature to bother getting complexes over philosophical treatises of days past. He thought there must be a pearl of great wisdom in that, the likes of which his brothers might never understand.
Ironically enough, it occurred to him them that out of the four siblings (if they were four), he was probably the one who knew Feanaro the best, though he wouldn't expect his half-brother to recognize this – it was only that the name 'Curufinwe Feanaro' was impossible to evade if you were looking to become anything like a lore-master.
He was seldom in the palace by the time that Arafinwe had been old enough to remember it, and he never paid him too much heed, perhaps thinking him beyond notice compared to the more assertive Nolofinwe.
Arafinwe had come to know him between the lines of his steady stream of publications, the many opinionated remarks, the rambling footnotes that only hinted at the existence of complicated constructs of interlocked thought. It was here that he came to see a rather different person from just the harsh voice in those endless, pointless arguments- He still wanted nothing to do with those. He stayed out of them as best as he could, fleeing especially from any suggestions that he ever take a side.
Of course sometimes one of them would be more difficult than the other, but he didn't find it productive to dwell on that.
Nolofinwe was his brother whom he loved, by whom he knew himself to be well enough esteemed, and he found that one could arrange oneself well enough with Feanaro as long as they didn't wait any great affection and kept to reasonably limited expectations.
One had to accept a certain distance, as one would when handling a particularly moody, rather bristly hedgehog, and one would have to make their peace with never getting past that wall in his heart, but if you settled on his terms, didn't act too familiar and gave him his space, he would easily give you yours. He was still standoffish, prickly and most certainly not humble, but if you could live with that, he was still a fascinating person of great boldness and who could offer the most unique insights.
He found that one of the best ways to get some conversation out of him was just to talk about his work, or anything else to do with crafts or lore – his pride as a scholar and sheer preoccupation with his many projects would quickly drown out everything else and get him talking to no end – it was not even particularly impersonal since he tended to be very, very opinionated. Arafinwe might not always agree with him, but he did find without fail that he had good points to make and in-depth considerations to offer either way, so he often just kept his own thoughts to himself, or presented them softly and pliably, like little more than suggestions.
He would be too busy launching tangents, rambles and dramatic eloquent tirades and treatises to bother with any personal hostility – On particularly good days, he might even mention something about the kids or the missus, and endure any anecdotes that Arafinwe might have to offer in return, though Arafinwe knew that he oughtn't expect this to mean any more than it did.
He just couldn't seem to understand why his brothers seemed to repel each other like the wrong ends of two magnets, why he couldn't just get one of them in a room, and have the other in it, too – but if his father wanted to commiserate about that, he would find himself wondering if the king could not have done more to dissolve this state of affairs.
But it would not be helpful nor kind to say such a thing, therefore, he didn't.
He nursed to little chafing sand grains of bitterness by himself like a cat licking its fur clean, trying not to bother anybody else about it.
It was easy enough to forget our here, with the relaxing rhythm of the crashing waves nearby and the household of Olwe to keep him company.
He was in absolutely no hurry to leave...
…
"Oi! You there! Wait! Hey, you!"
Stopping his calm, measured stride, the youngest son of Finwe turned around to see a tall, dark imposing figure all but thundering down the nearby ornate winding staircase, with little to no thought given to the possibility that he might fall.
"Ah. High Prince Therindion. Well met." his mild greeting stood in total contrast to the rough, unpolished words he had been addressed with.
"Father has informed me that you were to have your final exam today. You didn't fail, did you?"
"Oh no, not at all. Worry not. You're in the presence of Tirion's newest certified loremaster. Your old teacher sends his greetings, by the way."
"What a relief! So the royal house of the Noldor might yet hold on to some portion of its dignity. Wait a moment, I have something for you, as befits the occasion. I would hope that at least father would have acquainted you with the custom?"
Arafinwe nodded mildly, opening up his right palm.
The gift was deposited in the younger elf's hand without any ceremony or packaging. The brilliant green gems caught the eye at once.
"You may wear this every day without concern, it's no amateur work, this should last you to the ends of Arda no matter what you do with it."
"Interesting choice with the serpents."
"They're often looked like as emblems of evil because their bite can be harmful, but as anyone should know it is merely the dosage that distinguishes a poison from a cure. To me, that suggests wisdom. And it's motion, complete and flexible without legs, hands or wings, suggests a kind of completeness – I figured that if you managed to pass your exam, you might have what it takes to appreciate this."
"You have my thanks. I like it. I shall treasure this."
"You'd better – incidentally, I've heard you've been spending a lot of time in Alqualonde lately. That woman – your mother, didn't she teach you to play the harp? So, you ought to have heard about some decent music schools, right?"
"Is this about Makalaure?"
"Precisely."
The golden-haired prince sighed wistfully, "They grow up so fast, don't they? I didn't fully realize how big he's gotten until I saw Nolofinwe's son. Have you seen him? He's tiny! You always forget how tiny they are at first! Do you ever get used to that?"
"Well so far, I haven't..."
There was almost, for a moment, some semblance of warmth in that exchange, before the crown prince hurried off toward the next of his many endless pursuits.
...
A/N:
If this 'fic had an official soundtrack, it would be Take Me To War by The Crane Wives. I think of the first 'verse being about Fingolfin and the second being about Feanor, but it fits both of them, they're as likely to be talking about Melkor as about each other.