Category: Tolkien-Universe

Rating: M

Couples: -

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

Chapter: 22

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

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Findaráto gritted his teeth as he closed the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, he marched over to the desk. Once, it had been his grandfather's, but now it had passed through his father to him.

"Damn, damn, damn, damn..." He resisted the urge to throw something, hanging his head in defeat.

His rise to the throne was being rocky - to say the least - as many of those in Valinor did not like the Exiles and only accepted him as King of the Noldor under sufferance. Even Olwë and Ingwë's support did precious little.

He had not intended to overhear the conversation, though he suspected the speakers had meant for him to overhear.

Some nobles that had been in the faction that had followed his father back after Alqualondë had been discussing the recent developments. That, he could understand, as these last few years had been an upheaval and a half.

What he could not understand was how they could be so callously cruel as to outright accuse him of intentionally letting his father get abducted again. Of half-whispering that it was mighty convenient that Arafinwë was taken at such a time that his rescue would take years.

He hissed when he hit the wall hard enough that it actually hurt.

He had not meant for his father to be taken! He had just... wanted some help and turned to the only source he could think off.

The tears that shot into his eyes were not only pain as he cradled his hand, feeling bone shift under his touch. He'd managed to break a knuckle, which was just perfect. Could this go any worse for him at this rate!?

Arafinwë's successor sunk down, sliding along the wall until he was curled up in the small corner beside the bookcase. Was this how his father had felt when he'd returned alone?

Someone knocked on the door, but he did not call out, despite the guards no doubt having already told them he was in here. He tucked himself in smaller.

"Darling?" The current Queen of the Noldor in Valinor slipped inside. "Ingo?" He could only just see her feet, the rest of her obscured by the desk and knew she couldn't see a thing of him herself.

"Here, mom..." He admitted after she'd closed the door. He had to swallow a few times before he could get the words out.

"Oh, darling." Eärwen swept around the desk at his voice, skirt of her dress billowing as she joined him on the floor. "Ingo, what happened?"

"Nothing." He tried to hide his hand, but she spotted the move and got a hold of it before he could. "I just..."

"Ingo." Her slender finger carefully probed his knuckle, before she started to Sing softly. He hissed equally softly, resisting the urge to pull his hand free. "What happened?" She repeated her question after her Song had finished.

"Nothing." Findaráto, Regent of the Noldor in Valinor, looked away to some corner of the elegant carpet under the desk. It'd been made by Miriel, from what he knew, shortly after the first arrival in Aman.

"Ingo." His mother did not let go of his hand. "Something had to have happened, because otherwise you'd not have ended up with a broken bone." She ducked forward, trying to find line of sight with his eyes.

"Nothing important."

"Ingo... at least half the trouble we are currently in is precisely because your father did not talk to people when he really should have. Please do not take after him in this regard right now." The only daughter of Olwë pointed out in a whisper. He flinched at the reminder, biting his lip as more tears formed in his eyes. "Talk to me, my son."

"I..." He half-huffed a sob. "I just... heard some things in the corridors. It's fine. I just... need a moment."

She slotted herself against him, letting him lean on her.

"Your dress is going to get dirty..." He curled up against her.

"Ingo, what little dust manages to exist in here is nothing compared to some of the messes you lot got me into when you were small." She wrapped her arms around him. "Remember when Nerwen insisted on that outing?"

"The one where it rained so bad we almost had to get boats to get back home?" He choked a laugh at the memory. "You complained your hair was wet days later."

"Mmhmm..." His mother hummed soothingly. "What did you hear, Ingo?" Her hold on him tightened as he flinched.

"I..." He sighed. "Some people were saying I let dad get taken, so that I could rule and subvert the Exile because I didn't like the consequences of my actions and wanted to come home... in more words... and meaner language."

She hissed at that, but didn't let go.

"I didn't mean for dad to get taken again." He trembled, clinging to himself. "I didn't know what to do. I was scared..."

"Ssshhh, Darling, ssshhh... I know, I know." But that she knew hardly mattered, because his father was still gone.