Fingon jerked awake, sweat making little paths down his skin. His black hair clung to his neck and shoulders, and his heart skipped with a frantic irregular beat. Breathing deeply he threw off the hot sweat drenched sheets that entangled his limbs. The stone was cold against his bare feet and when he opened the window cool sea spray danced into the room driven by the wind.
The waves rose and crashed to the sand shore, breaking against the rocks as if in an effort to end their lives. As he gulped in the salty air Fingon felt like those waves, searching for something solid to rest on. The dreams had returned but this time, they were different. This time he knew what he saw was yet to come, things that were going to happen.
He had seen her, fighting in battle, surrounded by enemies, but she was going to die. He knew it as surely as he had known he would find his cousin. He ran a hand through his hair and cursed the gift of dreams. They had never been such a burden before, not since Maedhros' return.
Throwing a loose shirt over himself Fingon opened the doors to his room and stepped out into the wild night. Wind whipped and lashed over the coastline and the sea was a black, boiling animal. But with all the fury of the weather the sky was cloudless and stars shone with rebellious brilliance against the roar of the wind. Down on the breach a large fire burned, standing beside it and feeding the flames was the tall, pale Shipwright.
Fingon went to him and they stood in silence for a long time, each bearing the snap of the wind in quiet forbearance. Cirdan jabbed a few more drift wood logs onto the fire and spark rose up, only to be caught in the wind and swept away. And always the rush of the sea, waves going on over and over.
"I was waiting for you." Cirdan finally said, "The dreams again?"
"Yes, always." Fingon replied. He tightened his jaw and ground his teeth together at the remembrance of the hideous visions. Cirdan looked at his out of the corner of his eye, Fingon stood with his arms folded across his chest. Unbound his hair was whipped around his face, but his eyes shone fiercely. For a moment there was something of his half uncle in him.
"Your father told me to tell him if they worsened. But I don't think you want me to do that." Cirdan said with another look at the young man.
"No, I'd rather you didn't. He would only worry and that does nothing to help." Fingon replied.
"Um." Cirdan muttered noncommittally. "You're not well. You haven't been for weeks."
"And you think I haven't noticed?" Fingon grabbed a piece of wood and flung it far out into the raging sea. "I haven't slept and I can't think straight. I have always taken all those things as illness."
"Fingon, this isn't like the other times." Cirdan warned, "You must tell your father."
"And what am I supposed to tell him? Tell Turgon he should prepare for Kingship your brother is dying/" Fingon laughed bitterly, "I'm sure that he'll find that wonderful news."
"Stop it Fingon! You're acting like a child." Cirdan barked. He stood in Fingon's path and glared down at him, "I know how you feel Fingon, but you have to try to be strong."
"I am strong, I have always been strong. But Cirdan, I cannot be strong forever." his shoulders sagged as his hands dropped to his sides. "I can't do this any longer."
Cirdan laid a comforting hand on the young man's shoulder, "Then go home, tell your father. Let him help you, it may be that the answer lies out of your hands this time Fingon."
Fingon laughed a little, "Cirdan, when has the answer ever been in my hands."
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The scene in the great hall of Himring was interesting to say the very least. All the elleths and ellons of that icy castle were gathered for a evening of dancing and singing. So far Maglor had managed to shame all the elves into silence as his clear silvery voice echoed off the hammer beamed roof.
Amrod and Amras were either arguing with each other, or with someone in the household. Celegorm sat brooding in a corner despite the admiring glances he received from many of the pretty elleths. Curufin was talking with his oldest brother and Caranthir was dancing with each elleth in turn.
"So you're the young woman that we heard about eh?" he asked as he swept Aeroniel around the room.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"The elleth that my cousin almost married." he said, a wicked sparkle in his eyes.
"I'd rather not talk about it if you don't mind." she answered. He shrugged and smiled a little.
"As you wish. I have to admit that I would have done the same thing." Caranthir frowned as the twins voices rose in volume.
"You're cheating Amras and you know it!"
"I am not! I happen to be a better card player then you are!"
Caranthir shook his sleek black hair at them and turned his grey eyes back to the young woman in his arms, "As I was saying, when those idiots interrupted, I wanted to marry one of your kind."
"Really?" Aeroniel asked, "I never would have thought it."
"Why?" Caranthir shot back. He whirled her around and then dipped her low. As she came back into his embrace she said, "Because you strike me as rather harsh and judgmental."
To Aeroniel's surprise he laughed, "You are very much like her. I think you must be related somehow. Haleth said that I was all those things and more."
"What more?" Aeroniel inquired curiously.
"I have only just met you, my sweet, I hardly dare reveal all my fault in one evening." his eyes twinkled back at her in the lamp light. "At least not unless I have over drunken myself on a alcoholic beverage. And those…" with a glance at his brother, "Maedhros does not allow."
"Quite right too." she added.
"If you say so, my dear." he smiled. The music ended and the dark elf escorted her off the dance floor and back to her chair. But Aeroniel had barely sat when Amrod stomped up and asked her to dance. Before she could answer, the disgruntled elf was leading her back to the floor.
"I cannot believe that arrogant brother of mine can say he wasn't cheating." he spluttered.
"How deeply annoying for you." she murmured smiled into his shoulder.
"Yes, yes it is." Amrod grumbled. "Are you having a nice evening?"
"Quite, thank you for asking." she returned. He was completely silent the rest of the dance and forgot to lead her from the floor. Instead he went after his twin who was boasting about how much a better card player he was. Aeroniel shook her head and turned right into the arms of Maglor Fëanorian.
"Hello Ronnie." he said, "I hope you haven't promised this dance?"
"No, you are welcome to it if you like." she laughed. "I hear you have crushed the hopes of all our minters. I think they will never sing again because they will never be as proficient as you."
"Poohy, they're all good players. Beside I am not the best musician in the world. " he said this with a slight frown appearing between his eyebrows. "You remember Daeron surely."
"Not very well, I take it he didn't like the Edain very much." she answered. He frowned again and nodded.
"No, he didn't. But that doesn't mean that he wasn't a wonderful musician. But I have heard that he doesn't play much anymore. What a loss to the world." and Maglor gave a sigh that was half regret and half satisfaction.
Maglor took Aeroniel to a seat and brought her something to drink as well. She sat happily talking to Nessima when Maedhros came up and offered the elleth his hand. With a ridiculous flourish he said, "If it please madam, could I please have this dance please?"
"You forget, I am betrothed." Nessima answered flourishing, in her turn, the silver band in her right first finger. "I dance only with my beloved."
"But I said please!" he feigned whining. Arbellason appeared at his lord's side and claimed Nessima's hand in his.
"But I take first priority every time, even if I am your steward." Arbellason answered smugly. "Come my love."
"Of course darling." Nessima answered and they swept away. Maedhros looked down at Aeroniel and she shook her head.
"No! I refuse to dance with you! The first we did you stepped on my feet five times! I have to protect myself against attack in all circumstances." she tucked her slippered feet under the chair.
"I could order you too." Maedhros threatened, waving his huge fist under her nose. A twinkle of merriment flashed in his eyes and they both burst out laughing. Curufin came up and asked, "What's so funny Russandol?"
Aeroniel looked from the black haired Fëanorian and back to his red haired brother. "Russandol? Copper top? Is that your name?"
Maedhros gave his brother an annoyed look, "Not if I can keep people from learning it." he muttered.
Curufin's mouth ever so slightly turned up at the corners in a smile, "And you never can. If one of us doesn't enlighten them, they always name you that themselves."
"Go away! I wish to dance, not quibble about names." Maedhros said. "But she won't dance with me!" and he pointed a finger at Aeroniel.
" With the way you stomp on people's feet I wouldn't blame them." Curufin said, "I wouldn't dance with you either."
"I should hope not, that would be rather odd don't you think?" a warm honeyed voice drawled. They looked up to see Celegorm standing in front of them. He wasn't smiling but he expressed the air of being pleased with himself.
" I know that look." Curufin said in a disgusted voice "He isn't!"
"He is. I thought he would have arrived a few days ago, but oh well." the blond flipped his elaborate braids over his shoulder, "He's here now."
"Who?" Maedhros asked.
"Huan." was the short clipped answer.
"Oh god." was Maedhros reply. Curufin and Celegorm laughed and dragged their brother away leaving Aeroniel laughing.
The evening waned and finally the lamps were lowered and the elves and men made their way to their smaller, warmer rooms. Remains of the dance were still scattered over the room and playing cards were found in many curious places. Aeroniel picked them up and stacked them into a neat little pile on a table.
The last door closed in the corridor and she knew she was alone. She sank into a chair and buried her face in her hands, she was trembling violently, but not from the cold. Tears, hot and hard ran down her face and her breath came in short gasps that made her lungs burn.
The evening had been terrible, trying to appear merry and cheerful during the party. At first it was easy, but then a cold feeling of fear had come over her and she hadn't been able to shake the sensation since. Something was wrong terribly, terribly wrong.
"Fingon where are you?" she whispered. A candle sputtered and died out, but no answer came from the cavernous room.
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Authorial Note : For some reason I just couldn't get anything more out of this chapter, I hope you don't mind.
Sorry for any typos.
Jaffee Leeds