Category: Tolkien-Universe

Rating: M

Couples: -

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

Chapter: 58

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

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Drawing up on Eglarest, the difference between Teleri and Falathrim shipbuilding became more apparently. The years the two peoples had been sundered had left their mark, as had the difference of resources that could be devoted to their shared craft.

"Our children?" Arafinwë was leaning on her arm lightly, but he could stand and walk easily by now.

"It is my father's new flagship, at least." She conceded, not quite able to keep the sharpness out of her tone at the reminder as to why her father had needed a 'new' flagship. "I do sincerely hope that if Eönwë bothered to warn the Fëanorians, he'd at least have the decency to warn the other two Houses."

"Yes." Her husband inclined his head some, the black iron crown a sharp contrast to his golden hair. He still only wore a cloak, the many decorations prohibiting him from any more clothes than a skirt. "Whether they'd come however..."

"They will be here." She leaned into him lightly, careful of the metal she could feel under the fabric separating them. His face was hard, like she'd only ever seen it after his father's death. Looking at the harbor, she could see that she was correct, simply from the sheer number of golden-haired forms she could spot. No doubt Arafinwë could see the same.

"I suppose so." He turned from the scene and she refused to let go, moving alongside him back to the their nest on the far deck. Caranthir was curled up, asleep - she hoped. At least he listened to that name again, though any of the others were still very much a no-go. It was weird, to address him with a Sindarin name even when they spoke Quenya, but it beat only being able to address him with 'nephew'... since no one wanted to get anywhere near their Sauron-given names.

"Have you decided?" Eärwen softly asked after she'd helped him get comfortable.

"Not yet." It was a conversation they'd often had, once they had fixed their marriage to such extend that it was possible; what to do with their children. There was the consent that Findaráto had very much not intended for matters to turn into this mess - and Arafinwë could hardly claim himself innocent in the matter - but it was also far larger than their family.

Arafinwë the father might be able to forgive having been nearly permanently enslaved to the closest thing to Morgoth's heir, but Arafinwë Noldóran, king of the Valinorean Noldor, could not easily forgot the dramatically worsened destabilization of a still-fragile civilization his heir's actions had used.

Then there was the matter of the offer of recovery in Loríen. Certainly, it would be prudent, if only until all the many jewels were gone and the king didn't look like a enslaved jewelry-display, but his Regent's rule was still shaky, even years later. Though she suspected he was far more decided on his course of action there, if his absentminded petting of their nephew was any indication. He would not let Caranthir go on his own, if he could help it, and Curufinwë seemed unlikely to need to go himself.

"I guess there's some time still." Even if she could already easily feel her father through her parent-bond. She offered her hand. "I'm with you." She wasn't going to leave him again, not if she could help it.

"Worried I'll do something stupid?" He managed a small smile, bringing to mind the shy boy that'd courted her back in their Tree-lit youth.

"My dear Ingo, just because you are the wisest of the Sons of Finwë, you are still an idiot at times." She chuckled, pressing a gently kiss on some bare skin she'd found on his hand. Her skin still crawled when noticing how utterly covered in jewelry he was, but she managed to hide it well enough. "I am still amazed your mother never suspected you of th..."

"Don't bring that up." He immediately ordered, pulling his hand back - though he kept holding hers as he did so. "We agreed to never bring that up where anyone could hear."

She could say something now, but comforted herself with a quirked eyebrow in perfect mimicry of her law-mother and a grin more in line with their third-born at his most mischievous. But her husband was smiling, which was the most important. It had become such a rare sight these days...