Okay, so I know it's been months, but I'm not dead! Yay!
Anyway, I know this chapter is also a bit short, but I couldn't bring myself to end it any differently...
Silmíre stands, feeling the gazes of her brothers, her cousins, her uncles and aunts upon her. She can feel her mother's gaze searing into her back, even stronger than the shocked gazes of the crowd. Murmurs, whispers, gasps are all around her, wondering why she would defend the one who injured her, who scarred her.
She spares one glance down at Nelyo, and he nods. She nods back and slips through the crowd, mounting the steps of the empty dais. Her palms are sweating, and she resists the urge to wipe them on her gown. Silmíre lifts her gaze, letting it rest on the Valar, arrayed above the crowd. Manwë lifts his hand, calling for silence, and the crowd grants it.
With one final deep breath, Silmíre speaks, her voice wavering ever so slightly at first.
"I have come forward with evidence that proves my father's innocence. I also have evidence that would accuse another."
Manwë's gaze pierces her, his voice ethereal and otherworldly, "You may present your evidence, daughter of Fëanáro."
"Months ago, my brothers were allowed to visit my father while he was being held in Alqualonde. He spoke then of not being responsible and accused Melkor of the crimes you believe my father has committed."
Manwë frowned, and Silmíre continued, her voice even now, "Since that time, my brother, Nelyafinwe and I have visited Vairë's halls and viewed her tapestries. There, we found the evidence that I spoke of earlier. Melkor took possession of my father's fëa, and through him, slew the guards at Alqualonde and injured me."
And with that, she pulls a rolled-up scroll from the pocket of her dress, and passes it to the Maia near her, who hands it to Manwë. He unfurls it, and frowns deeply. Silmíre just stands her ground.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd at her accusation, yet Silmíre did not turn, keeping her gaze leveled at the Valar, almost daring them to say she was wrong. Manwë glanced at Vairë, then back at Silmíre, "We will consider the evidence you have presented us and ensure that it is sound. This trial is suspended until such a time that these things are accomplished. The accused will remain in our custody."
The Valar simply vanished, leaving the crowd in silence for a solid ten seconds before murmurs and gasps broke out.
Silmíre turned around, trying to ignore the crowd's stares, and dismounted the dais. Nelyo and Tyelko shoulder through the crowd to meet her, and they make it back to her family unhindered, the crowd almost parting to let her through.
Her mother looks displeased, cheeks flushed. Findekáno appears behind Carnistir, Findarato behind him. Soon, it becomes clear that Silmíre is going to have to answer quite a lot of questions from quite a few family members, and her uncle suggests they take their meeting to the palace.
She's the last to walk into the admittedly large sitting room. It has to be, to accommodate all of her family members. Even Elenwe is there, her belly swollen with child. Silmíre knows it will still be at least six months before her and Turkano's child is born.
Her grandfather turns from where he is standing near the grand fireplace, "You have some explaining to do Silmíre."
"And her brothers as well," Silmíre's mother crosses her arms.
Maitimo moves from his place by Findekáno to stand by her, "You were there when we spoke to Atar. He was not lying when he said that Melkor had done it."
"We could not discredit it without first searching for evidence." Macalaurë speaks from her other side. Silmíre didn't even hear him approach.
"Which you did behind my back." Her mother's arms are still crossed.
"You forbade me from visiting him," Silmíre steps forward, "Not from searching for evidence."
"He's our father. You can't fault us for trying to clear his name." Atarinkë's voice is guarded.
"If you did not forbid them from gathering evidence," her uncle, Ñolofinwë, steps forward, "you cannot punish them, Nerandel."
"He still killed the guards." Earwen stands, "Even if he was possessed, he killed them."
Arafinwë puts a hand on her shoulder, "Perhaps if they do find that Melkor possessed him, a compromise can be reached."
Tyelkormo snorts in disbelief, "What sort of compromise?"
"Yes, what sort of a compromise Ara?" Ñolofinwë asks.
"Well," her uncle swallows, almost the whole room looking at him now, "Maybe a pardon, and then not being allowed in Alqualonde."
"My father would likely agree with that." Earwen nods as he speaks.
Silmíre nods as well. She can very easily settle for something along those lines.
Her mother sighs, "I agree. And should hope that Fëanáro will as well. And you are right, Ñolofinwë, I can't punish them for something I never told them they couldn't do"-she smiles ruefully- "even if I wish they would've told me."
Silmíre's grandfather sighs, "Then I think that is all we need to hear. Everyone should get some rest, I suspect this trial will pick back up tomorrow."
Indis ushers them all out, and Silmíre is just glad that she'll get a moment to herself, where she doesn't have to hold her head high, and deal with her family's questions.
But it seems she's not quite done with the latter.
"Wait." It's Aikanáro, pushing past Findarato as they walk down the hall. "What was on that scroll?"
Nelyo turns to answer, "I sketched the tapestry we saw."
Carnistir clears his throat.
"With some help from Moryo."
Silmíre nods, "I figured that it would be good to have a copy, so that they knew we had actually seen the tapestry."
Findarato nods, "I believe you, you know."
Silmíre just nods, and heads for her room. If she hadn't claimed evidence from the very tapestries of Vairë, she suspects Findarato might have sided with those from Alqualonde. Not that she blamed him, they were his kin.
She has just begun taking her hair out of its updo in front of the vanity in her room when there's a knock on her door, followed almost immediately by, "Oh really Artanis, we don't need to knock."
And the door opens, admitting Irisse and a frowning Artanis.
Silmíre turns from the vanity, running her fingers through her hair, "You're both lucky I wasn't changing."
Irisse shrugs, "You would've said something."
"Yes, after you had already opened the door," Artanis sits down on the edge of the bed.
Silmíre smiles, running a brush through her hair. Irisse scoffs, flopping down on the wide bed beside Artanis, "It's not like we haven't seen it before."
"Irisse!" Artanis scolds.
Silmíre rolls her eyes, "Would you two stop it?" She points at them in the mirror with her hairbrush, "And why are you really here?"
"We came to check on you."
"I have seven brothers for that."
"We know." Irisse flips her voluminous curls out behind her. "But that doesn't mean we can't check on you."
Silmíre sighs and crosses from her vanity to sit with them. "I'm doing okay. I'll be better once the Valar have made their decision."
Artanis rests her hand on Silmíre's, "I think we all will."
Irisse sits bolt upright after a minute or two of silence, "Doesn't it seem weird?"
"What?" Silmíre and Artanis ask at the same time.
"That the Valar are the ones deciding your father's sentence, but if you're right, they're the ones that screwed up in the first place." She turns to face them. "Because they told us Melkor was safe, that we were safe to have him walk among us."
Some small spark lights deep within Silmíre, "The Valar lied to us."
If you ever catch me using the Sindarin version of someone's name (until they start using that version), please tell me.
