HOMECOMING.
The cousins come home. I know it's been done bazillions of times, but, please, bear with me…
Two drabbles, Huan and Itaril's POV
Homecoming, South Mithrim. (Huan's pov)"Tell Fëanáro that I've brought his son home".
Findekáno was delirious. Was he, truly? I could almost feel the mighty smith's feä lingering there, among his stunned children.
The feud, and its healer. The fool, and a greater one.
A heap of bloody limbs and broken feä, Russandol was a ghost of former strength.
Yet he lived, and Makalaurë would make sure he'd continue to do so, calling out for the healers in his powerful voice. As they lay there, exhausted, one holding, one being held, I thought the cousins were evidence that even Mandos could be defied and defeated.
Homecoming, North Mithrim. (Itaril's pov)"A Vala, indeed."
Was there pain, hurt, love, hate, anger, jealousy, grudge, affection, compassion, pride? Those days, my Atar was a riddle to me.
Uncle was a mess. Nobody knew for sure, but everybody suspected. The foul vapours that had disturbed us by the lakeside must have been thicker up there in the mountains; he had trouble speaking and even breathing.
He didn't expect us to understand or to forgive. A pained look in his eyes was the only explanation he'd offer. "I'm sorry Atar, but I did what needed to be done," it said. I learnt that lesson well.
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