Category: Tolkien-Universe

Rating: M

Couples: -

Warnings: AU, blood, mentions of torture, character death, Loss of bodily autonomy (no Non-con)

Chapter: 3

Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Finrod couldn't run, could only stare.

Like a candle, the top of one of the towers of the citadel burned. Crouching on the crenelations, a form of fire and wrath looked down into the small courtyard he was in.

Hanging lifelessly from those same, his father was only barely not being touched by the flames, though he could see some corners of his robes start to smoulder as a bloody patch on his chest kept growing.

"I did say I would, Finrod Felagund!" Claws of magma closed around his parent. "Thank your uncle for this!"

The flaming form seemed to flare, then fade and he knew before he could open his eyes that Finarfin was gone from Tol Sirion, and bond-range.

"Ingo...?" Altariel appeared beside him. "Dad...?"

His throat was tight, almost too tight to breathe. Above them, some wooden-beams were starting to fail, the stones starting to shift and fail. He should evacuate the area, but his parent-bond was empty, rather than closed.

"He is in Angband..." He trembled, fingers digging in his own arms. "He is in Angband again." His heart hurt at the mere thought. 'Gentlest, fairest son of Finwë, has a battalion of orcs as bedmates every night. At best.' "Dad..."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"No."

"Yes." Vairë countered softly, and gently. Fëanáro did not want her to be such. Not after the news she brought.

Arafinwë was lost once more, paying for their shared brother's refusal to risk the Leaguer established around Angband. On the one hand, he could understand not wanting to risk their carefully created siege, but on the other... "He took him."

"He did." She had summoned him and Finwë to her rooms, where they were greeted by a tapestry showing the youngest son of Finwë being swept from Tol Sirion.

"And you do nothing." He snarled, just barely remembering that shaking down a Valie would be a bad idea in general.

"Arakáno is mustering our army, son of Finwë. What more do you wish us to do? Sink Beleriand?" She tilted her head.

"Surely more than that! Arafinwë does not deserve this!"

"I believe I informed thee of the Doom regularly." It seemed the raised voices in his wife's corner of his Halls had summoned Námo. "The Doom thy brother is under."

"He was forgiven, accepted back into Manwë's lap! He is not part of the Doom." He snarled, gritting his teeth from jumping either of the Ainur. Beside him, his father was near catatonic.

"We have no choice but to wait for the army to be mustered before we can do aught." The darker of the two Valar countered softly. "And thy sibling put himself under the Doom once more, Fëanáro Curufinwë Finwëon, when he choose to assist Mairon in taking him from Valinor. He choose to risk this by making a deal with Angband."

"He... what?" He had been switching between glaring at the both of them in equal measure, now his full attention turned to the Doomsman of the Valar.

"Didst thou think that one Maia could oppose the Wills of all Valar bend against them?" The normally near-emotionless face looked down almost pityingly. "Didst thou think so poorly of us? I doubt it."

"I..."

"Thy youngest brother did listen quite closely to my Doom. He knew, as thou only hadst when at my Gates, that the Silmarils would not return to thee and thine. He saw, in the wisdom inherent in him, that nearly all thy kin would end up here before any of them could lay hands upon them." Námo joined his wife, studying her latest creation. "He sought to save them, by seducing Mairon from Morgoth, and using him to steal the Silmarils and return them to thy sons."

"Then why... how... what?" He trembled, though he had no body with which to do so.

"As I promised, I do now. I release thee, and remember no grievance. Half-brother in blood, full brother in heart will I be. Thou shalt lead and I will follow. May no new grief divide us." Vairë quoted Ñolofinwë's declaration in Mahanaxar. "He chose to forget the blood of his Telerin kin spilled by thee in Alqualondë, to save his Noldorin kin. He chose to follow thy lead in going to Angband, but chose stealth over an army. At least... to get the gems themselves. With the expectation that we would have no choice but to follow with an army, since we were now drastically short on Kings of the Noldor."

"Truly, he takes after his elder brother." Her husband mused, trailing his fingertips over the flames on the tapestry.