The square was no longer empty, but people backed away as Feanaro's host rode and strode into it. More curious folk followed behind them as the square continued to fill.
Findekano met them in the middle of the square, Arafinwe and many others of their family standing beside him. Makalaure stood on his other side, looking isolated yet unruffled – unless you knew what that slightly too-perfect posture meant. He was nearly as scared as Maedhros.
"Findekano, it is good to see you." said Feanaro, coming forward but not dismounting. "You are now released from your vow and your burden."
"Where is my father?" demanded Findekano. "He should be here. Where is he?"
"He is but a few miles behind and should be here within the hour. Surely Makalaure told you?"
Makalaure nodded. "I did."
"I saw Nolofinwe's banner in the distance," Maedhros added.
"You need have no fear for your father," said Feanaro. "His horse threw a shoe, but is unharmed, as is he. Your Oath spoke of laying down your regency at my return. How fares Tirion?"
Findarato spoke up: "Uncle, while you are by right our King, I understand you are still exiled by the Valar's order. Have you gone to them to get your exile lifted?"
"Who gave the Valar the right to choose the Noldor's King?" Feanaro lifted his voice. "Especially given that the Valar's incompetence and outright negligence killed King Finwe."
Many in the crowd gasped at Feanaro's accusation.
"Yes, our King is dead." He let that sink in for a moment, closing his eyes and bowing his head. When he raised it again, his eyes shone with grief and rage so powerful that Maedhros felt his own stir likewise. He really ought to find a way to stop this, but it would be like trying to stop the tide from rising. The Valar deserved it, anyway.
"That vile Moringotto killed my father, and left him lying on the ground like a slaughtered beast, and others of my people beside. The Silmarils are gone! The only treelight in this world is in the accursed hands of my father's murderer. My sons tried to stop him, and some were wounded in so doing. Curufinwe and Nelyafinwe even managed to land a blow on Moringotto's monstrous accomplice. I am damned proud of them today, even though they failed to save our King or the Silmarils." His voice dropped so that those at the back of the crowd would have to strain to hear. "But where were the Valar while this was happening?"
"Sat deedless and weeping beside the dead trees, with two honourable exceptions," here Feanaro sneered, "Orome and Tulkas, who were running around in circles the dark, and didn't turn up until after their Kinsman had been and done his worst."
"For how many yeni have we done all as the Valar demanded? We sat at their feet, admired them, worshipped them! And this is how they repay us. Yet this is not the worst of it."
"Orome and Tulkas now hunt the Silmarils to retrieve them from their Kinsman. A good thing, surely, and showing their goodwill towards us whom they claim to love and protect?"
"I wish it were so, but it is not," he said softly. "They seek the Silmarils for their own sake, and not for ours. They wish to break them to restore light to the dead Trees, if such is even possible at such a late date. A good thing, surely, even if they," his voice hardened, "failed to ask my permission to destroy my greatest works?" He let that hang for a moment.
"Many of you may not know that when as much of one's own soul has been poured into creating a magical artifact as I did creating the Silmarils, breaking that artifact will kill the creator."
"In the Valar's mind, my place is to die, and they had not even the courtesy to inform me of this and apologize, let alone ask permission! And if they are willing to kill me to suit their convenience, what else are they willing to do to us whenever it suits them? If they truly cared for us, they would have let the Moringotto rot in Mandos for what he did to the elves of Cuvienien and none of this current disaster would ever have happened! But no, he is Manwe's brother and must be allowed his second and third chances while sending my Father, our King, to Mandos in his stead!" Tears streaked Feanaro's cheeks, but neither his voice, nor the fire in his eyes wavered.
"They insist that we are free, but we might as well be thralls for all the power we have over our own destiny. I don't know about you, but I will be thrall to no one. We have other options, better ones than being the Valar's pets and playthings." He leaned over and snatched the torch out of Tyelko's hand, causing his son's horse to shy away and lay his ears back. Feanaro held it high, the torch's light bathing his face in flickering flame and shining reflected in his eyes.
"In Cuvienen, sweet waters ran beneath unclouded stars, and wide lands around them, where a free people might walk. They are there still, even if we fools left them for the shining cage of Valinor. We can go back, and build a free land without being at the mercy of the Valar every day of our lives."
Feanaro spoke of the Middle-earth he had studied in his long poring over ancient lore, and of mortal men, doomed to supplant the elves and take their place. Maedhros almost came out of it then. Stubborn, wilfull, greedy, generous, cowardly or heroic by turns, mortal men were many things, but easily ruled by the Valar wasn't one of them.
Maedhros remembered Beleriand and the North. The wide plains of Ard-galen on a summer day beneath the sun, Himring's bright banners as he rode home after a patrol, fire… the ships burning, Dorthonion and Ard-galen burning, forge-flames in depths of Angband, Thangorodrim, Glaurung, hearing the news of Fingon's death, searching for Elured and Elurin through the bitter cold of Doriath's emptied forests. The Valar might not be perfect, but there were worse things out there. Like me.
"I will take all brave enough to follow me to Middle-earth, where we will take back what is ours, and bring the Moringotto to justice, as Manwe has failed to do!"
Maedhros opened his mouth to speak, but another voice spoke first.
"If you believe that, brother, you are deluding yourself," said Nolofinwe. Maedhros turned to look behind. His uncle stood at the entry to the square, disgust warring with anger on his face. "When has Manwe ever treated us as thralls?" Nolofinwe demanded. "The Valar have ever treated us with kindness and consideration."
"So thinks the fatted calf as it is being led to the slaughter," returned Feanaro. "Given the Valar's failure to properly police their own, I would rather take my safety and that of my people into my own hands. It will be harder, yes, but at least I can be certain that I will not forget due to being busy making merry."
"And you plan to do what, exactly, when you finally run into Melkor?" demanded Nolofinwe. "Melkor's a Vala, you fool. I've seen with my own eyes the mess he made of Formenos' gates and would-be defenders. You'll get yourself killed, along with everyone fool enough to follow you, and he will still have your Silmarils!"
"Well stay then, little brother, if you are so afraid of dying that your newly-given word to follow my lead in all things is worthless." said Feanaro, and started to turn back to address the people once more.
"I gave my word to follow your lead assuming that you were sane," cried Nolofinwe, "and not about to leap into Mandos' arms dragging all the Noldor with you! I also swore Oaths to the Noldor as the Regent of Tirion, to serve and protect my people. You don't even know what that means, do you?"
"How dare you speak to Father like that," screamed Carnistir, starting to draw his sword. Maedhros lunged to grab his arm, forcing Carnistir to drop the blade from suddenly numb fingers. "What did you do that for?" Carnistir demanded.
"What were you going to do with that, brother?" Maedhros demanded. "Kill our uncle? This is a matter for words, not blows." Carnistir pouted, and cradled his wrist. "Wasn't going to kill him," he muttered. "Just frighten him a little."
"Would you have your son strike me down for speaking the truth?" said Nolofinwe. "Oh, I forgot, you were exiled for threatening to do so yourself. He takes after you, I see, more's the pity."
"And you are being pointlessly offensive," said Makalaure. "If you break your oath to father, then you are an oathbreaker, and he has every right to point that out."
"He should never have taken the oath in the first place," yelled Lalwende. "We should stay right here where we belong."
"Calm down," said Arafinwe. "There is no need to make a decision right this second, and this will be the most important decision since we left for Valinor. Moringotto is long gone at this point – spending time to reflect will harm us not at all, even if some of us do decide in the end to leave. And Feanaro, Nolofinwe, why are you allowing him who you call Moringotto's lies to continue to set you at each others' throats?"
"Arafinwe is right," said Maedhros. "If we cannot work together, it will always aid our enemies. How Moringotto would laugh to see us now. If we are to leave, we need to plan what to take, and how we're going to get so many thousands of people to the other side of the sea. The Valar are not going to be dragging any islands across the ocean for us this time."
"No, this needs to be settled now, while everyone is here!" said Feanaro, glaring at his wayward eldest, who glared back. "As for planning our journey," Feanaro continued, "that is pointless until I know who is coming to seek a new land, where we can be free. I know I am not the only courageous man in this courageous people."
"Are you calling me a coward for being loyal to the Valar, and for thinking?" demanded Nolofinwe.
"That depends on your actions, my brother," said Feanaro. "You do as you will, my faithless brother, but I will avenge my father, and take back our treasures from Moringotto, if I must travel to the ends of the earth." He drew his sword and held it high.
"He is not alone," cried Curufinwe, and drew his. Tyelkormo and the others followed, save Maedhros.
Feanaro cried "Hear me, all of you: Against Morin-"
"No!" screamed Maedhros, and flung himself at his father's feet "Don't do it! Not again. You will not destroy us again." His brothers stared at him.
"Why are you being such a bloody coward?" said Feanaro, tearing away from Maedhros' hands.
"Against Moringotto –" Maedhros could hear others following his father's voice.
Maedhros jumped to his feet and punched his father in the face. The horse reared, and Feanaro fell off, blood streaming from his nose, eyes open wide in total shock.
A/N: Guest, thank you for the review and no need to feel embarrassed about your English. I can't speak or write anything but English much beyond "Hi, my name is X. What is your name?" level.