The presence of another in Finwë's gardens was a relief at that
moment, as I was beginning to find this silence unsettling. It may be that
Fëanáro was puzzling when he spoke, yet he silence was almost frightening.
Unfortunately, this particular presence was probably the least welcome of
all at that moment.
She was walking down the stone pathway towards us, and I could tell Fëanáro was trying desperately to ignore her for as long as he could. Seeing as I had no intention of upsetting him at such a time, I resolved to go along with him, at least this once. But Indis' purpose was not to walk by. Rather she was coming directly for us. Surely Finwë was at the very least aware of the fact that his son was not pleased with the Vanya? On second thought, Indis most likely came on her own accord. She was proud, and not one to be lightly cast aside, no matter how much she was disliked.
I saw Fëanáro's relaxed fingers tense and pull back ever so slightly. "Curufinwë!" She spoke, and his eyes opened wider, yet he still did not turn them upon her. "I am sorry you were not able to attend this evening's merry-making." His jaw tightened, but she did not heed the warning. "I was hoping to have a word with you, if that is the Lady Nerdanel does not mind." As small as the chance was, I had been hoping my presence would go unnoticed. Yet now, quite on the contrary, I had been placed in a very difficult situation.
"Lady Indis," I began. She smiled at me, her perfect, golden smile. I stood up and lowered my head politely before her. "It is wonderful to meet you, daughter of Mahtan. The lord Finwë tells me much of your father's skill, and of your own." Formalities finished with, she came to her point: "You would not mind if I spoke with your companion for a moment?" She turned her smile on Fëanáro, and the arrow was loosed from its shaft.
"Her companion would mind," his voice was cold and hard as iron, soft yet no less contemptuous. "Any words that a usurper would have to say to me would no doubt be worthless. I do not waste my time sharing idle speech with one such as you, Indis of the Vanyar." The last words were said so scornfully that it was hard to imagine they were ever considered a polite address.
I nearly had to hold my breath to stop myself from crying out a protest, a protest of any kind. I had to stare, just as Indis was, for a long while, before I realised he had really said what I heard. He looked at both of us, then picked up his stack of papers and walked away without another word. Indis was hurt, but it did not take long before she regained her composure. The pain in her eyes was still blatantly obvious though.
It was then that I began to pity her. It was no fault of hers that she loved, nor was it any fault of hers that Finwë returned that love. "My lady Indis," I said, compassion welling up inside me. "I am sorry." I lightly touched her arm, to see if my healing had any effect on her. It didn't, or at least not visibly, for she remained just the same. And when she spoke, her voice was soft, weak.
"Do not worry for me, Lady Nerdanel. I think it is him we ought to worry for."
With that, she turned away, and I do not doubt that an unseen tear fell down her cheek then. But I could never love her. No matter how innocent she was, she was prideful also, and unwilling to accept that perhaps her love with Finwë was unnatural, as indeed I still deem it was. Just as Fëanáro blamed her for Finwë's love, she believed he was the one causing their love to become a difficulty. Yet Fëanáro would always hold the upper hand in my mind, no matter how much I grew to respect and appreciate Indis over the years, I would never be able to love her. The heart cannot be cleft in two.
She was walking down the stone pathway towards us, and I could tell Fëanáro was trying desperately to ignore her for as long as he could. Seeing as I had no intention of upsetting him at such a time, I resolved to go along with him, at least this once. But Indis' purpose was not to walk by. Rather she was coming directly for us. Surely Finwë was at the very least aware of the fact that his son was not pleased with the Vanya? On second thought, Indis most likely came on her own accord. She was proud, and not one to be lightly cast aside, no matter how much she was disliked.
I saw Fëanáro's relaxed fingers tense and pull back ever so slightly. "Curufinwë!" She spoke, and his eyes opened wider, yet he still did not turn them upon her. "I am sorry you were not able to attend this evening's merry-making." His jaw tightened, but she did not heed the warning. "I was hoping to have a word with you, if that is the Lady Nerdanel does not mind." As small as the chance was, I had been hoping my presence would go unnoticed. Yet now, quite on the contrary, I had been placed in a very difficult situation.
"Lady Indis," I began. She smiled at me, her perfect, golden smile. I stood up and lowered my head politely before her. "It is wonderful to meet you, daughter of Mahtan. The lord Finwë tells me much of your father's skill, and of your own." Formalities finished with, she came to her point: "You would not mind if I spoke with your companion for a moment?" She turned her smile on Fëanáro, and the arrow was loosed from its shaft.
"Her companion would mind," his voice was cold and hard as iron, soft yet no less contemptuous. "Any words that a usurper would have to say to me would no doubt be worthless. I do not waste my time sharing idle speech with one such as you, Indis of the Vanyar." The last words were said so scornfully that it was hard to imagine they were ever considered a polite address.
I nearly had to hold my breath to stop myself from crying out a protest, a protest of any kind. I had to stare, just as Indis was, for a long while, before I realised he had really said what I heard. He looked at both of us, then picked up his stack of papers and walked away without another word. Indis was hurt, but it did not take long before she regained her composure. The pain in her eyes was still blatantly obvious though.
It was then that I began to pity her. It was no fault of hers that she loved, nor was it any fault of hers that Finwë returned that love. "My lady Indis," I said, compassion welling up inside me. "I am sorry." I lightly touched her arm, to see if my healing had any effect on her. It didn't, or at least not visibly, for she remained just the same. And when she spoke, her voice was soft, weak.
"Do not worry for me, Lady Nerdanel. I think it is him we ought to worry for."
With that, she turned away, and I do not doubt that an unseen tear fell down her cheek then. But I could never love her. No matter how innocent she was, she was prideful also, and unwilling to accept that perhaps her love with Finwë was unnatural, as indeed I still deem it was. Just as Fëanáro blamed her for Finwë's love, she believed he was the one causing their love to become a difficulty. Yet Fëanáro would always hold the upper hand in my mind, no matter how much I grew to respect and appreciate Indis over the years, I would never be able to love her. The heart cannot be cleft in two.