The forgiving of Feanor.
Written for Shauna's birthday. This will be two or three chapters long.
The Halls of Mandos
Sometime yesterday afternoon...
The fea of Feanor sat stubbornly in a dark corner of the Halls. He had been there for many ages, resisting the chance to talk to the other dead elves, not even to his sons or his own beloved father would he speak.
Both Mandos and Nienna had tried to get this particularly stubborn elf to speak, to learn, to repent. He would not, and they had found nothing that would move him.
Sighing, Mandos decided to deal with this elf again. He was extremely exasperated by Feanor, for he would not accept the Vala's teaching and correction, holding it to be useless as he could never be released. That was a mistake mused Mandos, telling Feanor that he would never released, and it was one he had not repeated with those of Feanor's sons who dwelt within his Halls. For if one had no hope, why should one try to repent? It was something that had bothered Mandos for a long time, and although he had successfully pleaded with Manwe for mercy for Feanor's sons (for in the matter of the Oath and first Kinslaying it was held that they had been constrained by their father's will) and this had been granted, and three of them had been released, for all of that Manwe refused to show Feanor the same justice.
Mandos had pointed out patiently that if Feanor had some hope he might listen to himself or his sister, and wish to learn for the reward of release. There was not much hope, but Mandos thought, there was always the possibility.
He rounded a corner and was confronted by the longest resident of his halls, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the fear of some children who were dancing in front of him. So too, he ignored his son, Curufin, the child most like his father, who was pleading with his father to speak to him.
'It is no good, Lord,' Curufin spoke sadly to Mandos, 'Father will still speak to none.'
'A great pity, but you have done enough, Curufin. If your father will not speak, I council you to look to your own redemption for by lingering here, and seeking to aid your father, you are delaying and possibly harming your own chances to live again.'
'Yes, my Lord,' said Curufin, as he left. Mandos was watching Feanor closely, and noticed as he mentioned Curufin possibly harming his own redemption for the sake of his father there a flicker in the fea that was the greatest Smith born in Arda. Silently, Mandos considered what this could mean, and then to his amazement, Feanor spoke.
'Lord, what mean you my son is jeopardising his chances?' asked Feanor.
'By spending his time here, with you, worrying over your repentance, your forgiveness and not his own. This obsession he has with trying to help you helps him not, and is in fact the cause of him still being here.'
Feanor was silent then a long time, and almost Mandos left, giving up the hope the elf might speak again.
'Then, for his own sake, he should not come here again. Will you tell him that for me, Lord? That he might spend his time learning what you teach, correcting his flaws so that he might see his wife and son again?'
'No, Feanor, I will not give that message, you must tell your son that yourself,' said Mandos, correctly perceiving that Feanor couldn't bring himself to tell his son to say away.
'I..I cannot, Lord, for much as I wish him to be released from your Halls, he is my best-loved son and I wish to see him, and to speak to him. I miss my family,' said Feanor suddenly. 'I am lonely, and long for the company of my kin, and,' his voice was the slightest of mere whispers, 'my wife.'
'Your wife is living, and the living are no concern of the dead,' said Mandos sternly.
'I know, Lord, and I know Nerdanel and I did not part friends, but still she is my wife, and I miss her.'
Mandos' mood softened, for Feanor's silence was broken, and although he spoke truth, the living being no concern of the dead, he was secretly pleased Feanor was showing interest in his family, his concern for them showing that just maybe he could be worth of pardon.
'Lady Nerdanel lives with her parents, and your eldest son lives under the same roof,' said Mandos.
'I see. Then she has not sought to sever our marriage bond?'
'Once, long ago she did so seek but was refused.'
Surprise tinged Feanor's thoughts, 'Why, Lord?'
'I cannot tell you that, be grateful I have told you this much,' said Mandos, stern again. Then he looked more kindly on Feanor, 'I am going now, son of Finwe. Think on your family, understand those who dwell here not seek to see you again, and those who do wish your release as well as their own. I shall return to speak to you further,' and then he left.
Written for Shauna's birthday. This will be two or three chapters long.
The Halls of Mandos
Sometime yesterday afternoon...
The fea of Feanor sat stubbornly in a dark corner of the Halls. He had been there for many ages, resisting the chance to talk to the other dead elves, not even to his sons or his own beloved father would he speak.
Both Mandos and Nienna had tried to get this particularly stubborn elf to speak, to learn, to repent. He would not, and they had found nothing that would move him.
Sighing, Mandos decided to deal with this elf again. He was extremely exasperated by Feanor, for he would not accept the Vala's teaching and correction, holding it to be useless as he could never be released. That was a mistake mused Mandos, telling Feanor that he would never released, and it was one he had not repeated with those of Feanor's sons who dwelt within his Halls. For if one had no hope, why should one try to repent? It was something that had bothered Mandos for a long time, and although he had successfully pleaded with Manwe for mercy for Feanor's sons (for in the matter of the Oath and first Kinslaying it was held that they had been constrained by their father's will) and this had been granted, and three of them had been released, for all of that Manwe refused to show Feanor the same justice.
Mandos had pointed out patiently that if Feanor had some hope he might listen to himself or his sister, and wish to learn for the reward of release. There was not much hope, but Mandos thought, there was always the possibility.
He rounded a corner and was confronted by the longest resident of his halls, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the fear of some children who were dancing in front of him. So too, he ignored his son, Curufin, the child most like his father, who was pleading with his father to speak to him.
'It is no good, Lord,' Curufin spoke sadly to Mandos, 'Father will still speak to none.'
'A great pity, but you have done enough, Curufin. If your father will not speak, I council you to look to your own redemption for by lingering here, and seeking to aid your father, you are delaying and possibly harming your own chances to live again.'
'Yes, my Lord,' said Curufin, as he left. Mandos was watching Feanor closely, and noticed as he mentioned Curufin possibly harming his own redemption for the sake of his father there a flicker in the fea that was the greatest Smith born in Arda. Silently, Mandos considered what this could mean, and then to his amazement, Feanor spoke.
'Lord, what mean you my son is jeopardising his chances?' asked Feanor.
'By spending his time here, with you, worrying over your repentance, your forgiveness and not his own. This obsession he has with trying to help you helps him not, and is in fact the cause of him still being here.'
Feanor was silent then a long time, and almost Mandos left, giving up the hope the elf might speak again.
'Then, for his own sake, he should not come here again. Will you tell him that for me, Lord? That he might spend his time learning what you teach, correcting his flaws so that he might see his wife and son again?'
'No, Feanor, I will not give that message, you must tell your son that yourself,' said Mandos, correctly perceiving that Feanor couldn't bring himself to tell his son to say away.
'I..I cannot, Lord, for much as I wish him to be released from your Halls, he is my best-loved son and I wish to see him, and to speak to him. I miss my family,' said Feanor suddenly. 'I am lonely, and long for the company of my kin, and,' his voice was the slightest of mere whispers, 'my wife.'
'Your wife is living, and the living are no concern of the dead,' said Mandos sternly.
'I know, Lord, and I know Nerdanel and I did not part friends, but still she is my wife, and I miss her.'
Mandos' mood softened, for Feanor's silence was broken, and although he spoke truth, the living being no concern of the dead, he was secretly pleased Feanor was showing interest in his family, his concern for them showing that just maybe he could be worth of pardon.
'Lady Nerdanel lives with her parents, and your eldest son lives under the same roof,' said Mandos.
'I see. Then she has not sought to sever our marriage bond?'
'Once, long ago she did so seek but was refused.'
Surprise tinged Feanor's thoughts, 'Why, Lord?'
'I cannot tell you that, be grateful I have told you this much,' said Mandos, stern again. Then he looked more kindly on Feanor, 'I am going now, son of Finwe. Think on your family, understand those who dwell here not seek to see you again, and those who do wish your release as well as their own. I shall return to speak to you further,' and then he left.