Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: -
Warnings: AU, blood, mentions of torture, character death, Loss of bodily autonomy (no Non-con)
Chapter: 8
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"No!" In life, he had only cursed a Vala, and slammed a door. Though in the end, he had certainly been furious enough to attack one, had he managed to get to Angband.
In death, he did what he had only wanted to do in life.
Of course, throwing down with a Vala - any Vala - was probably an exercise in futility. "Yes."
His sons... his sons! The tapestry was only half-hung as the one hanging it had to turn to defense ever so briefly, vibrant colors flaring in her spouse's Halls.
"Náro!" He freed himself of his father's spectral hold, full attention on the towering female form with one hand on the un-attached corner. He lunged forward, wrath blazing in his eyes.
Only to run into a web of colorful threads, several tapestries having come undone at her beckon to form a net across the hallway between them. He screamed in inarticulate rage, clawing at the silk containing him.
Almost as if mocking his anger, the tapestry that had send him down this spiral was not among those. His sons were still kneeling in some cave, attending a gaping wound on Arafinwë's stomach, a large wolf prowling around them and a wall of flame behind all four of them.
"You should perhaps not attack the messenger." The Valie pointed out, taking a moment to finish hanging the tapestry.
"He took my sons!" The more he struggled, the more trapped he became. Which - in later hindsight - would prove to be extremely confusing considering he had no body to end up trapped with.
"In exchange for your Silmarils." Vairë stepped back a bit, gesturing to the revealed corner. One had been an inset of a distraught Ñolofinwë, bend over a map even at this scale showed the Leaguer in full detail. The other - the one new revealed - were Kanafinwë and Nelyafinwë, receiving three shining gems from Tyelperinquar.
He snarled impotently at her.
"A kinder fate than I had foreseen before Arafinwë meddled." Of course, attacking Namó's spouse in his Halls was bound to draw his attention.
"How!?" About the only reason he wasn't chewing on the threads to try and free himself was that he couldn't reach any with his mouth.
"The Doom would have killed thy siblings that followed thee to Beleriand..." A dark cloud trembling with the Aratar's anger grew in the far end of the corridor. "Thy sons would all have shattered under the Oath, thy grandson be broken though he swore it not." He manifested between his wife and the two Eldar, despite her having matters well in hand. "Of thy brothers' children, only the youngest of them all would have lived..."
"And now, it cost thee only two sons, only one sibling... to see thy Oath fulfilled, all three gems returned to thine." She gestured to her latest work. "Instead of practically the entire House of Finwë, with thy Oath unfulfilled until the end of Eä."
He was nearly frozen in his fury, trembling in her threads, unable to determine what to protest the most.
"My Lord..." His father spoke up behind him, voice trembling.
"We can do naught, as of now, Finwë Noldoran." The black-clad form pityingly stated. "As of yet, Morgoth knows not that he has been betrayed by his Lieutenant. As such, he does not yet hunt for him, no doubt assuming he's licking his wounds after having been ousted from Tol Sirion. I am afraid, for your kin's well-being, we must first deal with him before we can turn after Mairon. He - and in extension they - would not be able to escape untold torment if the theft of the Silmarils became known."
Fëanáro snarled, even as the threads disappeared and he dropped to the ground. "My sons..." His brother, though those words would not yet pass over his lips. Was this to be Nelyo all over again? Years of torment in the tapestries reminding him of his folly in pitting his children against Morgoth? Years of guilt at what might have been prevented had he been less trusting in the lies that had poisoned their family. "Let me go." Was he to wait once more until someone came to tell him they'd been rescued? Would he also feel stabs of guilt in the future whenever he saw Curvo or Moryo... or Ara, instead of only Nelyo?
"Mmh?" The two Valar raised their eyebrows in a similar way, vibrant pink and darkest black looking down upon him.
"Let me go." He repeated. "I have to..." He'd go mad, if he had to wait it out again.
"Thou are forbidden from being reborn." Namó pointed out evenly. "And even if not, what doth thou expect to be able to do that thy kin would not? Once they realize that they are not in Angband, doth thou not think they will hunt down Mairon until the ends of Eä if need be?"
"I have to do something." It wasn't outright pleading, but it was close enough he barely got the words out. He couldn't look up at either of them.
"The last time you thought to do ought, we lost... about three quarters of the Noldor and Teleri to death and doom..." The Valie pointed out softly. "How many do you intend to take with you this time?"
"No one... no one... but let me out... let me save them..." His sons should not have to pay this for his Oath, it was not what he had intended at all! And Ara... he had condemned himself once to torment, he should not have to go through it again!
"There long shall ye abide and yearn for your bodies, and find little pity though all whom ye have slain should entreat for you." Once, on that northern shore of Araman, the Doom of Mandos had boomed with a finality no previous words had had. Now, changed by the actions of one who had turned from it once, it near trembled the air of the Halls as it was quoted. "None entreat for thee, Fëanáro Curufinwë Finwëon."
"The Doom has been changed already, you said so yourself! You can change that, damn you!"