RP 🎲 O Fëanoriel Runyaril ar i Vérë o i Silmarilli (Of Fëanoriel and the Oath of the 💎Silmarils)

[Elbereth Vala Varda]

Nerdanel sighs. "Yes- if they ever did." She doesn't want to keep on with this mindless argument between her and her husband, but there doesn't seem much of a choice, and since she is having a very hard time getting him to agree with her, and she refuses to agree with him, there seems no way out of the inevitable argument. She only hopes that it stays there. That it doesn't become a fight or a long-term thing. She's not sure she could stand it if it was. There has been too much conflict. In her mind, it needs to end. And very, very soon.

"Of course I saw what they did to him," She notes. "And I don't deny that it was an act of great tragedy, very great. But I still must question whether they fully knew the implications of their actions. Boys will be boys, Feanaro. Do you really think they put that much thought into what would happen to their brother and the fact that he would be gone forever?" At Feanor's following words, however, her face pales in horror. "You..." She mutters. "Are you saying that I don't know my own sons!?" She shakes her head, and pushes him away as he holds onto her. "Don't my love me after saying such a thing... Listen to yourself? Do you really think our sons are beyond redemption? Are you really willing to accept that readily and give up hoping for them?"

She is aware that Feanor says some things following that, but gives them little thought. In her mind, what he has said is incredibly disrespectful. As a mother, she has the duty and responsibility of knowing her children and having their hearts. The fact that he would mention such a thing is basically telling her that she is a poor mother, and hasn't done a good job, or even a satisfactory job, at raising her children. And a small prickling doubt rises inside of her.

Have I not been a good enough mother?

She swallows, shoving that thought deep, deep down inside. She can't bear the pain of facing it. The pain of being... wrong. It's not something she can reckon with. But even though she has tucked it away, the reminiscing feelings are enough to cause her to ask Feanor the question.

"Feanor, surely you are not saying that I have been a bad mother, are you?"

His response will determine everything.

Amrod's eyes light up, a little. "Wait- so will he be done soon? I want- I want to see him." At least once he gets the chance to speak with Maitimo, he can fix this mess to some degree. Of course, it will still be ruined, and it will still be his fault, but maybe, just maybe, he can do one nice thing forhis brother. Nothing extraordinary, nothing worthwhile, but just one thing, one thing to make his life better.

~~~

Fingon sighs, placing a hand on Maitimo's shoulder. "Nay, brother... You don't need to be sorry. It's just- it's father's standard for me, and if that's what he wants, who am I to deny that from him? I... I'll just have to find a way. A way to, to live up to what he wants from me..." He's thinking aloud. "I have to. I mean, the- my whole family, their lives, their happiness depends on it." He glances up at Maitimo. "I've failed at it my whole life. I just- I have got to get better at this... Maybe if I could just, try harder... be stronger, fight longer, endure it even when I don't want to, even when I don't feel like I can..." He sighs. "I just- maybe then I'd be enough for him." Tears crest around the corners of his eyes, but he tries not to let them. "Maybe then, I could satisfy everything that he has wanted from me- and I could be enough- for you, and for him and my family..."

His gaze drops. Now that he has considered it, it's clear. He's already failed so many times. He has to find a way to succeed, to be perfect, to be everything that his father wants. It's not just a want. It's a need. Everything depends on him. And he wants to crumble under the pressure, but he can't. His entire family's livelihood rests on his shoulders. He has to make things right with father, fix everything, and never make another mistake in his life. There's no other way.

Finwe casts an arm around Maitimo, looking down at him. "Are you alright, son?" He whispers. "I'm sorry... It's not that I don't want to help you. I do, I do want to help. But this is between Fingon and his father. Maybe it's better that I- don't get involved. Maybe it's better that he does this on his own." His eyes soften at Maitimo. "All on his own."

Findekano isn't sure what to say to Maitimo's kind offer. On one hand, he's not sure it's a good choice. Dragging poor Maitimo into this after everything feels just mean and wrong. But on the other, he's not really dragging him at all. Maitimo willingly is choosing this. So how can he be blamed for his friend wanting to help? But still, he thinks back to Maitimo's words to Finwe, and his heart drops with dread. If father got physical, what if he beat Maitimo too? His eyes darken and widen with horror, and he hopes Maitimo doesn't notice it. If father came after Maitimo because of Fingon, he knows he'd never NEVER forgive himself for it.

"I don't know..." He mutters, trying to reason with his friend. "What if he came after you- what if he hurt you, and on my account?" He hugs Maitimo close, gently. "I'm sorry, I just don't think I can put this on you. I'm supposed to be your friend. I know that I look more like I'm just using you- but I swear, I'm not. I do care about you. I just... I'm really bad at showing it, apparently."

He feels that sinking feeling returning. Failure. How he's clearly failed his whole life. If perfection is the standard, Fingon has earned nothing but failure after failure upon failure. He's never achieved what his father wants him to, and it causes his heart to all but break, knowing that.

~~~

Maglor shakes his head. "Ai... the composer... A beautiful name it is, is it not? How we have the power to create... How we have the power to bring something to life that never was before. And yet, we try to imitate our fathers, the blessed ones before us, to be present in every corner of our work, but invisible from it entirely."

He takes Feanoriel's hand. "But indeed, I mean something different. I mean- do you need to speak about anything in private, before we join the others once more? We will be leaving soon, you must surely know."

 

[Áramandë Amaniel]

I glance towards him intently, my gaze upon him lingering for what seems to be eternal moments.

Should I tell him? No....indeed. Perhaps it is better if I kept that to myself....that is what I have ever done. Who knows whom one may trust....

At last I shake my head.

"No; it's fine."

Maybe all I need is just a bit of time....surely that would help me. Indeed....surely, it would....

 

[Maedhros_Nelyafinwë]

Fëanor can tell that Nerdanel is angered by his words, but he almost thinks it's a good thing. Let his displeasure with her current path of thinking be plainly known to her. Hopefully she will see that her current ideas are nothing more than wishful thinking, and worse, wishful thinking that endangers Nelyo.

"I don't think you know them as well as you think you do," he says bluntly, completely unaware of how those words are likely to devastate her. In his mind, he's speaking a simple truth, and there is no personal insult to it. "After all, you clearly did not see the violence in their hearts, and not even after their first attack on Nelyo, or even their second. Now, I do not blame you for this, since I was also blinded to it. However, what I disagree with is your refusal to admit that they deceived you and that perhaps neither of us know their hearts as we thought we did."

When she asks if she has been a bad mother, he's shocked and appalled that she would ask such a thing. "No, of course not," he says without hesitation, his brow creasing slightly in concern. "You've been a fine mother to them. You've cared for them and nurtured them since they were small, you selflessly put their needs above their own, and once you determined what was really going on with the boys, you acted swiftly to protect Nelyo, and you kept the others at bay. It was also your care for Nelyo that helped him heal. Why would you ask such a thing?"

He smiles slightly at Amrod's enthusiasm, and tells him, "We may need to give them some time. They were going to have a rather deep discussion, as far as I'm aware. But we can find out where they have gone, and wait for them."

~~~

Maitimo falls silent for a while, having no idea of what he could possibly say to comfort Findekano. Fingon seems like he's not accepting the words of comfort that Maitimo has attempted to offer, though he can't blame him much for that, since the words of Nolofinwë are much weightier than his own. And now Fingon seems to be genuinely believing these false ideas that he must be perfect to win his family's love.

Though it feels pointless, he owes it to his friend to keep trying, and so he does. "It is not a fair expectation for Nolofinwë or anyone else to have on you, brother. I am only sorry that you are now bound by such an impossible task. And don't misunderstand me; I'm not saying it is impossible for you because you are less than anyone else. It's impossible for anyone." He pauses, feeling he has gone too far in his words and likely only made Fingon's angst worse, so he sighs and tries to redirect it to something more positive. "I can't control what kind of standards your father sets, no matter how unfair they are. But please, brother, know that you never have to be perfect to please me."

At first, Maitimo longs to trust Finwë fully, as he did before, and to accept his embrace. But though his heart yearns to believe his words, his mind won't, and he shrinks away from his touch. Finwë has claimed he would help and then wavered on his word, which almost seems worse to Maitimo than if he had simply refused to help in the first place. He's tired, so tired, of getting his hopes high only to have them demolished.

"If you aren't going to help us, so be it." His voice has gone eerily cold and his eyes flash with anger. "But I will do my part to make peace, and if that fails, I will defend my brother, my true brother, if I must."

He glances at Findekano and shrugs helplessly at what he says. "It's true that he could react like that. If he hurt you, why not me as well? But you have gotten hurt on my account numerous times, so it is only right that I be willing to take that risk too. Besides, all these misfortunes that have befallen you are my fault, directly, or indirectly, so... perhaps it would be just. Perhaps I deserve it, just as I deserved--" He stops midsentence and shakes his head, cutting his own words short before he can burden Fingon with his own guilt again. "But regardless, I face the danger willingly, not because you are forcing me or coercing me to in any way. But I appreciate that you have given me the offer to back out. Know that I will stand by your side always, of my own free will, and not abandon you again."

He turns towards the door, not looking Finwë in the eye. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

 

[Elbereth Vala Varda]

Nerdanel sighs, hearing her husband's words. He doesn't seem to agree with her, and it saddens her to know of that. Furthermore, his words directly oppose themselves. She's gladdened to hear that he does not believe she is a bad mother, but that relief is quickly drowned out by everything he had said prior. If he truly believes that she does not know her children, how can she be considered a good mother? No. A good mother must know her children well, at the very least, right? Certainly, a mother could not be considered good if she did not know her children at all. Such would not be right.

"How can you say both of those things?" She finally blurts out, having had enough of personal inward thoughts and being ready to just find out her answer. It seemed that inward thought never produced answers, and how could it, after all? It was only dwelling on the things that had already been known and kept in the mind. If she wanted to learn the true answers, if she wanted the truth, she could never rely on her own mind to turn them over like stones. Instead, she had to actually ask questions.

"You say I am a good mother," She begins, for some reason feeling the need to explain her question. "But also say that I do not know my children. How could I not know my own children, and be a good mother?" She sighs, feeling that she has perhaps said too much, since these thoughts were supposed to be buried deep, deep down inside herself. But, if she couldn't tell her husband, who could she tell? She finally finishes, trying to appease the greatly growing sense of concern that she has overshared. "But don't tell a soul about this- and know that there is more that I am keeping from you."

However, ending on that note seemed wrong to her too. But she wasn't sure how else to go on. What else to say. She needed to say something. She eventually falls silent, realizing that whatever her husband says to this, she has to just accept it.

Amrod jumps up, standing on his own, albeit a bit tipsy at first. "Well, then... What are we waiting for?" He's anxious to get to Nelyo. To be with his brother and truly find out all that is going on, and tell him the truth, that he is guilty. Again. Yes, it might seem redundant, but it isn't in Amrod's mind. However, he still is eager to speak with Nelyo and help him, and maybe earn back a fraction of his love. After all, there's no way that anyone, however selfless and sacrificing and martyr-like they were, even Nelyo, would let him have love indefinitely without even trying to earn it. Not after what he did. No one.

~~~

Fingon lets out a breath, listening to the words of his brother and friend. He wants so badly to believe them, but he knows they aren't true. He knows that his father is the only one who can define what he ought to be, and he has clearly miserably failed. But Maitimo's words do strike him to some degree. That he is not less than anyone else. That makes it even more pathetic. At least if he had a personal setback, if he wasn't where he needed to be in strength or intellect, then maybe his failing would be justified. After all, others would have an advantage. But if father expected this from him, he must expect it from many. Father never whipped or beat anyone else, as far as he knows. And that means that Fingon is in some way failing miserably, pathetically, not because of a personal setback, but because of some lack of something, some failure to be enough...

He tries desperately to determine what. Could it be, that he simply has not studied enough? But that was almost impossible. Father had made him study from a very young age and whether he enjoyed it or not, he always paid close attention and learned. Was it then, a lack of strength? But he had sparred from only a youth, and had been proficient at it, challenging many and beating as many as he challenged. So... what could it be? In his mind, he was at a loss. Where had he fallen so miserably short? Why was he never enough? Why was what he attempted, what he worked so hard for, never ever enough? He isn't sure.

But Maitimo startles him out of his thoughts too soon to determine, speaking of pain, and having deserved it? What? There's no way that he heard that right, and yet he is almost positive that he heard those words from his friend's mouth. He decides to opt with his thinking, probably a terrible mistake, and assume that Maitimo did indeed say such a thing.

"Don't talk like that." He says bluntly, maybe a bit too much so. "You don't- you don't deserve any of this. You never have and you never will. See, you're different than everyone else here," He pauses here, thinking back to Maitimo's words at the banquet and how he seemed to resent being named as any different than the rest, but, he was already committed to this comment so might as well follow through. "You never did anything. You just stood there. You didn't earn any violence, you didn't even provoke it-" He pauses. "The rest of us, certainly me, we've made mistakes. We've brought this pain on ourselves, and then, maybe, maybe we- maybe I do deserve it. But you don't, brother. You're the most innocent of all of us, and until you recognize that- I'm- I'm not sure you'll ever fully heal from this. Injustice can't be seen as righteous anger. I know you want to get your brothers off the hook- but they don't deserve that. They deserve to be punished. They wrongly wronged you. Please- understand that."

With these words, he takes Maitimo's hand, walking towards the hallway, inching closer to the dreaded conversation with his father, terrified.

Finwe glances back, his eyes softened and full of sentiments for Maitimo. "I love you, son... Do understand that I love you... And I want to help."
He can't help but feel a strange mixture of guilt at doing this, but in the end, it's probably for the best. Getting involved is a dangerous move.

~~~

Maglor cocks his head with concern for his sister. "Hm? What is fine? If there was nothing to tell, why would you say anything but no? Tell me, sister... Are you hiding things from me?"

Are you hiding things from her? That dark voice retorted. You know she'd leave this instant if she found out. Better keep your secret safe, or you're doomed.

 

[Maedhros_Nelyafinwë]

Fëanor gives her question some thought, realizing that she perceives his words as a logical inconsistency. She can understand why she might think that, but in his mind, it's not self-contradictory. Despite the many mistakes both of them have made, he still believes they are, overall, good parents. The only reason why he has some lingering doubts about it is because he's not sure how a good parent can raise children who have done such evil actions, and be blind to their evil for so long. But he and Nerdanel have done their best to protect and provide for their children, and have mostly been successful. That, in his mind, is what constitutes a good parent.

"I don't see the deception of our sons as a negative reflection of you or your character," he tells her. "That is why I say we don't know them as well as we thought-- because they deceived us, and that is not our fault. I do believe we have both made mistakes, but their deeds cannot fairly be blamed entirely on us. After all, they are old enough to have their own free will and to be responsible for their own actions."

Again, even though he can tell she's frustrated, he fails to see the deep devastation this conversation is causing her. To him, these issues can be reasoned out with logic, and he stopped taking it all personally long ago.

But, her last few words startle him, and his gaze darkens and he frowns deeply. "You are... keeping things from me?" His voice lowers a little and he presses, "What, exactly? You and I are supposed to have complete trust in each other."

Fëanor stands as Amrod does, watching him carefully in case he needs help, but thankfully he doesn't seem to. "Nothing, really-- though when we find them, we must honor Nelyo's time with Finwë."

And they walk down the hallways, looking for any signs of Maitimo and Finwë.

~~~

Maitimo smiles at Fingon, but it's an empty, almost lifeless smile. He appreciates that Findekano would have any capacity to say something caring to him during a time like this, but he can't take the words to heart. Not after what Amrod has revealed and the conclusions he has come to as a result of looking back on all the prior events. It all makes too much sense.

"Thank you, brother, and I wish I could believe you, but I am not as innocent as you may think. I did nothing, but that is the problem... there has to be some legitimate reason why they did what they did, and I think I understand it now. It was my own favoritism towards my sister and lack of care towards them that led them to feel unloved, and if I had only loved them better, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have brought this conflict into your family, and you wouldn't be--"

He cuts himself off, realizing that Finwë is still there, listening. And Finwë is clearly not on Maitimo's side, though he had once thought he would be. He has already revealed too much, to both of them, most likely. From now on, he must carry his own burdens and fight his own battles, as he had realized a few minutes ago, and that means he needs to stop letting the words flow recklessly out of his mouth.

"Never mind," he says with a cold numbness, walking with Fingon towards the hallway.

As they leave, Maitimo hears the last few words of Finwë, but meaningless they seem to him, since they are not backed by action. "If you want to help, then help," he says bitterly, and then turns his face away from him.

 

[Áramandë Amaniel]

My eyes narrow at once, and I leap upwards suddenly, my eyes flaring with a vehement passion.

"Hiding? What have I to hide from you? Has all not been enough already? Have you no trust in one who holds justice and truth in highest regard? If so, leave me at once, and seek no bond of gladness with me! I have spoken no lie, and my grief is true, deep and piercing and overwhelming, and e'er have I kept my distance from many, fearing that they would fail to understand me or my ways, and thus few I do convene with, and e'en fewer I may confide in, seeking the ways of my own self yet looking out for others, protecting them when need be if I must! Turn against me then, if such be your desire in fallen sentiments! E'er have I walked my own path, with few beside me, and let it be so if such is the way of Fate!"

I begin to walk away swiftly down the halls, my robes billowing vehemently behind me.​

 

[Elbereth Vala Varda]

Nerdanel closes her eyes, feeling a wave of sadness pass over her. It doesn't matter what she says, apparently. Or what he says. Her mind will always have a way of twisting it against itself and balancing out the reality. She breathes a sigh of relief at Feanor's words, at first, feeling that he has affirmed her motherhood and does not think of her as a bad mother. But that feeling is quickly wiped away as she thinks more on it herself. What he is saying does not make sense. A good mother would never raise children to make poor choices like that. And she is prepared to tell him so.

"I know what you are saying," She begins. "But I don't think you understand. How can we not be traced as the original source for our children's bad choices? We raised them. If they had negative influence, it is our fault for not protecting them from it. If they had evil or hostility in their hearts, is it not our fault for not recognizing it and rooting it out? Or even never allowing it to happen at all? Children are perfectly innocent when we first receive them. Anything that makes them guilty is our doing, is it not?" Her gaze drops. "And if this is true, then I must not be a good mother." Those words are dark and piercing and she doesn't want to say them. She resents even thinking them or feeling them. But how can she reject it? This is the truth. This is the harsh reality. If it is the truth, would she rather stay blind? Most likely, yes. But does she have a choice? Most likely, no.

And as he presses, seeming irritated and hurt by the fact that she would hide things from him, she shrugs carelessly. "Don't worry, love. It's just private things. They aren't important. Just, things that our children have only told me, and gifts and surprises we have planned for you." She hopes he accepts this answer and doesn't press any further. Of course, it's an outright lie. The things she keeps from everyone are not those things. They are insecurities. Deeply rooted, insecurities. And now, she feels as though she's said too much.

Shifting uncomfortably, she finishes. "But I suppose you're right. I am a good mother. Simply because, we both are good parents." She leaves it there, hoping Feanor accepts that as a cancellation for her truer words spoken before. After all, she doesn't want to deal with her problems. Just swallow them down and pretend they don't exist. It's worked in the past, it will work again.

Amrod nods eagerly at the mention of Nelyo receiving respect. "Of course." But in his head, he now churns over another question. Respect. What is it? He's often been accused of being too blunt, or disrespectful. He makes a mental side note to study over the word and its origins when he gets home. But for now, he'll settle with just asking Feanor. "Father," He begins, trying to keep his voice softer, as he's been accused of raising it too high in the past. "How do I respect Nelyo?"

~~~

Fingon turns in shock, hearing Maitimo's words tumble out faster than he can even understand. "What?" He places a gentle hand on Maitimo's shoulder and around him. "Who told you any of that? It's- it's not true. And furthermore, I can hear what you are saying. You really don't think your brothers could have just done wrong - do you? You truly believe they must have had a purpose..." His face drops. "Please, don't think like that. And don't close up to me either. Your brothers hurt you not because of what you did, but because of themselves." He pauses, trying to think of how to say this in a way that Maitimo will be receptive to.

"Think of it this way. What if things had been different. You know I've always cared for you, but what if I hadn't given as much attention to my siblings? Would they, then, have the right to attack and attempt to kill me?" He sighs. "What can ever earn death, aside from perhaps death itself? What can earn anger, but anger? Even if you had favorized some of your kin above others, which I do not believe you did, but even if, you do not deserve their wrath."

He wonders if he's said too much, since obviously, he's failed too much to be trusted with success. He'll probably only make things worse for Maitimo, and it kills him inside that such is the truth. But enough of suppressing those thoughts, they are coming close to approaching his father's study, and he better be willing to surrender and let his dignity be utterly trampled and mocked. After all, that's what has happened prior, and with Maitimo here, he's clearly doomed for the same, if not worse.

Finwe steps out into the hall, feeling a bit guilty, and even bad as he turns from Maitimo. But still, he made the right choice. He did what was good. Now, he must surrender the outcome to his grandsons.

~~~

Maglor's eyes widen, watching Feanoriel leave so suddenly.

Now look what you've done, traitor. The dark voice speaks once more. You've upset your sister. And imagine how much more she would be angered if she knew your dirty secret...

Maglor fights internally with the voice. No. I-I didn't do this. Besides- no one will ever know what I did.

The voice returns. No one will ever know? HA! They'll know. And even still, you are what you've done. You are your sins.

No, I'm not. Maglor battles.

The voice retorts. And how well will that argument hold with Nelyo? Do you really think he'd forgive you?

No... He weakly mutters back.

That's right. He'll condemn you. He'll hate you. And he will be right to do so.

Maglor's head drops, his gaze lowering to the floor as he mutters almost inaudibly. "No one can know... no one can ever know..."

With that, he rises and walks towards where he thinks Feanoriel might be.

"Feanorie!" He cries out. "No, I didn't mean it like that-! Please- please come back!" But in his heart, the damage has already been done. He had thought naively before that none of those things would ever come back to condemn him. But he was wrong.

 

[Áramandë Amaniel]

"Come back?" I scoff, responding in mocking tones as I stop in my tracks, turning back slightly to face him. "What makes you think that I would come back? I have only spoken the words of my heart that were ne'er meant to be revealed! Naught may alter what I have now spoken! From then on, everything shall be different! Naught shall e'er be the same again!"

I immediately turn away, and walk further down despite his pleas.​

 

[Maedhros_Nelyafinwë]

Fëanor pauses for a long while, his confidence wavering somewhat as he listens to her arguments. Isn't it true that a parent has a responsibility to raise their children to be good and noble, and he and Nerdanel have failed in that way? They have done good things as parents, but are those bare minimums of providing for and educating their children enough to make up for that drastic mistake?

"I don't deny that we made a mistake somewhere along the way, and I don't know what," he admits, thinking out loud. "We do have an obligation to raise our children to do what is right; what you say is true. But are we really all bad because of our mistakes in raising the four? After all, look at Nelyo and Fëanoriel. They are fine children, both of them; very noble and obedient, with a strong and accurate sense of right and wrong. Clearly, we have done something right, if the two of them have developed such good character."

And he nods in satisfaction when she concedes that they are both good parents, and decides to argue no more on the subject. And he hopes that her explanation for what she is hiding is truthful. But he has never known his wife to lie to him, so he trusts that she is speaking the truth.

"I'm glad we are in agreement," he says.

He is a little surprised by Amrod's question, which seems surprisingly thoughtful and positive. Perhaps he finally is taking Fëanor's words to heart. He thinks about the ways he likes to be shown respect himself. It's not all analogous, because as a father he expects to have his commands obeyed, and that is the main way he prefers to be shown respect, and that doesn't apply to Nelyo since he doesn't necessarily have that kind of authority over his brothers. But then Fëanor thinks about how he hates it when his commands are questioned and interrupted, and so he replies, "I think the best way you can respect Nelyo is by listening to his words, and carefully. This means you ask questions about what he says so you know your understanding is correct, and you actually focus on his words instead of thinking about what you will say in return. From what I can tell, it seems like you already do this at least some of the time, but we can all learn to improve in this way. And obviously, you must not speak to him any words that are insulting."

They get up to leave, and he turns to Nerdanel. "We are going to seek after Finwë and Nelyo. Would you like to come with us?"

~~~

Maitimo sighs, again wishing he could take Findekano's words to heart, but knowing too much truth to be able to do so.

"I understand what you're saying, Findekano, but I have already thought about this, and I think you are misunderstanding what I'm saying. I didn't claim what the brothers did to me was justified, but I am saying there is a reason why they did it. Such things do not truly come out of nowhere. Whether or not it is just, there has to be something I did against them in the past that provoked them into doing this. And if I had loved them better, they would not have been provoked into doing their deeds, and I would have never gotten you and your family tangled up in my mess."

Trying to change the subject, he asks Fingon, "Where do you suppose your father will be? Does he have his own guest room, or a study, perhaps? Or maybe he would be out hunting?"

The thought of encountering Fingolfin in his irrational, cruel state fills Maitimo with a deep sense of dread. His heart pounds as they walk along down the hallways. He feels Fingolfin's reaction will be harsh indeed, and he will try to hurt Fingon again, unless Maitimo can stop him. And hopefully his words will be calming, and his strength will be enough to protect Fingon if it comes to that. But given how miserably he has failed at just about everything lately, he's not optimistic. In all likelihood, he will only make things worse by being there, but he can't in good conscience leave Findekano to face him alone.

 

[Elbereth Vala Varda]

Nerdanel sighs, hearing her husband's words. It seems as though not even he can argue with her thinking, clearly indicating that it's right, and nothing scares her more. The thought that they, that she- had been a bad parent, it's more than she can bear to reckon with. She's always tried to be the mother that she never had to her children. To bring them up with love and honesty, to treat them each with tender care and to love them more than anything. To punish when needed and be merciful for all other times. It had been her life's goal. To find a husband, despite her unfavorable appearance, and to have sons and daughters. Now of course, that desire was fulfilled twice-fold, with Feanor as her betrothed, and eight wonderful children, seven of them great sons who would go on to be fine warriors and kings she could only hope.

Tears form in her eyes, but she ignores them, wiping them away and pretending that nothing was going on. That she was fine. All was fine. There wouldn't be any issues. "Of course, I'm sure you're right." She says, hoping she sounds more confident than she feels. "Our children make their own choices. What they choose at this age cannot rightly be cast upon us to the blame." Those words are beautiful, relieving, and though she wants to accept them, since indeed they came forth from her own mouth, she can't. She can't fool herself anymore. The truth has been laid blatantly bare, and there's no escaping it now.

At Feanor's question, she shrugs. She doesn't really want to go. She'd much prefer some time alone, to collect all these thoughts. But after what she said to her husband, she knows he will be wary of her acting at all unusual. So, she smiles and nods. "Sure. I'll go with you." And walks beside Feanor, yet not taking his hand, not yet.

Amrod nods. "Of course, I'll do all of that and more." He's making note of all of these things in his head, trying to figure out exactly what these things would look like in reality. How he could pay attention to every word, every breath, every minute detail and fully absorb whatever Nelyo was trying to articulate. "So... how do I do it?" He asks. "When he's talking, do I look at his mouth, or his eyes?" Hearing Feanor's words about asking questions, his heart skips a beat. If there was one thing he could do, it was ask questions. Educated ones, too. "Don't worry, father." He says eagerly. "I will ask lots of questions."

He can't wait to see Nelyo again. He's going to be the best brother Nelyo has ever seen. The one who pays attention, who helps out, who encourages, who laughs but never insults, who listens but never pretends to understand, who loves but never asks for anything in return. He's determined to do it. No matter how hard it is. He owes this to Nelyo.

~~~

Fingon shakes his head hopelessly. Nothing he's saying to Maitimo is getting through to them. He lets out a long, deep sigh. How do I make him understand? He isn't sure. If he could, he would just show it to his friend. Look him in the eyes and tell him that he isn't at all responsible or at fault. In a perfect world, that would be enough. In a perfect world, that would convince Maitimo of the truth. But this isn't any perfect world. It's the opposite. But no matter how many times he hopelessly raises these points and fails, he's still determined to keep trying. Maitimo needs someone to defend him, and since he's condemning himself, the obvious is out of question.

"No, no- you're not understanding me." He presses, burying his face in his hands for a second, just to regain some composure. Maitimo is not taking this point. "See, even if they had a reason, why does that give you any right to feel like you are to blame? Especially for my father... You know... He-I'm beginning to wonder if we had conflict all of my life, and I'm only seeing it now." He sighs. "Apparently, father has always wanted perfection from me- and I've always failed." He chokes back tears, the harsh reality hitting him in the face. "If you want to talk mistakes... I've failed my whole life, and been blatantly oblivious to it, for this whole time! If you're going to condemn yourself, you might as well count me in also."

Fingon can tell those words were too blunt. They weren't speaking from a place of care, they were speaking from a place of darkness and anger at himself. It's rude to force those things on Maitimo. He's got enough on him as it is, and Fingon knows that. So, he staggers a few steps back, turning to Maitimo with a sigh. "Hey, I'm sorry... I didn't-I didn't mean to get all," He gestures. "crazy, like that... I just, I want you to know the truth. You deserve to know the truth. That you... you are not the one at fault. And your family, they-they can't keep laying these things on you. They can't keep accusing you, of all of these wrongs that you aren't even doing. I want you to see that. But I-I admit, I took it too far."

At Maitimo's question, Fingon shrugs. "I-I think he'd be inside. He's been in his study a lot, lately... But I haven't seen him since he, uhm..." He stops, not wanting to relive those things. "...beat me.... in the hallway." He immediately feels himself start to tremble at saying those words and feels a sickening dread seizing him, tightening with terror. What father did to him... Those are not pleasant memories... He tries to shove them away. "Maybe, uhm..." He tries to hold back any tears. There's no more crying. He has to stop. This is getting ridiculous. "Maybe we should check, the... study in the left wing."

~~~

Maglor lets a thin breath escape him, as he hears his sister's words in response. What did I do? He tries to search his heart, collecting his thoughts to somehow determine what mistake he made that caused her to run away. But he can't figure it out. His heart is full of only promises broken, betrayals, cold and hard stone walls erected around every kind and caring tendency.

"Feanorie, please... I'm sorry- whatever I said, I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it to upset you-" He lays a hand on his forehead. Normally, these things were his specialty. Emotion. He was the first one to jump up and put his arm around his crying brothers. To sing a song when someone was feeling down. But now, he didn't have it in him.

His mind wanders, and he thinks back. Everyone I've shown love to, comforted, where are they now? His heart shatters at the answer. Everyone has either abused his love, or they have been stolen from him. They have either betrayed him or become so full of distress that they have run to grief as a comfort from mourning. His head drops low, hanging, as those bitter tears linger, stinging like embers from a crackling fire. It hurts so much. He glances over at Feanorie, wondering if he should go and try to comfort her. But, no. How does he know she won't use him? How does he know she won't turn away?

How can I love again? How can I ever love again?

 

[Áramandë Amaniel]

And as I am farther away from him, I think to myself, in my reeling thoughts that ever do assail me:

How can I trust again? How can I ever trust again? How do I know that none who comes to me shall use me as an unethical means to their unethical ends? How do I know that none shall turn against me? Even if they have not now....how am I to know that they would not in future? For I thought so of the brothers...I thought of them in good light, and yet look at what they did to Maitimo....

And at this thought of Nelyafinwë, I stop for a moment.

Maitimo. Yes, Maitimo. He has been truthful, just, honest, sincere, authentic, valiant, ethical....but where do these values come from? The mind, or the heart, or perhaps even the fëa? His compassion tempered with justice....yes, indeed that is something I lack. For in thinking that the entire world perhaps had turned against me, I sought only into my own thoughts, thinking of naught other than thoughts of despair and doom and ill-fated ends, thoughts that wring the heart upon shackles of despair and tear the fëa apart in binding threads of fear....

I gaze upwards a little towards the ceiling.

Why? Why has it been like this? What have I done wrong? What have I failed to achieve? What moral intentions have I failed to understand? How could he temper justice with his merciful heart, and yet all I do is put justice upon a pedestal, and turn away all those who value it not? Why must it be so? How is this ethical, of my own ways? Indeed, it may be hard to trust, let alone confide. Yet if I cannot even confide in myself and believe in the virtue of the heart in its encompassing love, interwoven with the rational duty of the mind...have I not failed in upholding this so-called justice within myself? Have I not then become a hypocrite against my own values? How am I to redeem such?

It is these last thoughts that assail me the deepest, more greatly so than any other. Yet I know of one thing.

I cannot give up now. There is no end to virtue. It is eternal, in the name of divine justice. I must redeem myself, make myself hold virtue of compassionate ethicality within my heart. It is not impossible. Maitimo does that, and ever has he been close to me. Hopefully, I may be able to learn of his ways. I must...or else I shall find it difficult to forgive myself, if I cannot strive to better myself in deeds of the mind, heart and fëa. I must find him....I must find him, and I must learn from him.​

 

[Maedhros_Nelyafinwë]

Fëanor nods, pleased that Nerdanel finally seems in agreement with him. After all, his own logic makes sense to him, and he never likes to be in conflict with Nerdanel. It's a rare thing, given that she is the one person who has consistently stood by his side all these years. He is completely unaware, too, of the true distress she has hidden beneath her words.

"We walk a difficult balance as parents," he says in agreement with her. "To determine what we can truly be blamed for and what can be fairly attributed to our children's free will-- it's a difficult thing to judge, but I know you and I will figure it out together."

Once again, he is somewhat surprised by the precision and curiosity of Amrod's question. Amrod has always had such a detail-oriented mind, that he thinks and wonders over such things, things that Fëanor himself has never thought of. "Look him in the eyes, I suppose," he replies, though he has never specifically thought about the issue before. He adds, "Now that I think about it, direct eye contact is another sign of respect."

Fëanor doesn't think Amrod should need to work so hard to earn Nelyo's love, since Nelyo already loves him and has forgiven him, but Amrod needs to feel like he's making some positive impact on Nelyo's life. Though, thinking about this, Fëanor realizes he doesn't entirely know how Nelyo really feels about Amrod. As far as he can tell, their relationship was reconciled, but then again, Nelyo had verbally forgiven Fëanor without any of the warm feelings of love returning to his heart. Who is to say that hasn't happened between him and Amrod? After all, even though Nelyo is such a caring and empathetic young Elda, perhaps those traits only extend so far. Perhaps he is perceptive enough to understand that Amrod's blunt, inquisitive mannerisms come from a place of sincere curiosity, or maybe they are so opposite of Nelyo's sensitive and polite ways that he doesn't understand at all. Fëanor has never been the greatest at understanding the hearts and feelings of others, so he realizes with some discomfort that despite his confident reassurance he has provided to Amrod, he can't know for certain that all is really well between his eldest and his youngest.

As they walk down the hallways, looking for Finwë, Fëanor realizes with some concern that Nerdanel has not taken his hand, as she normally would. "You have not taken my hand," he points out. "Is everything all right?"

~~~

Maitimo's heart and emotions are moved by Findekano's passionate argument, but in his mind he knows better, and cannot accept his words still. "But can you deny that if I had been more loving to my brothers, they never would have attacked me and I would have never brought all this trouble to your family or House? Even though what they did to me was wrong, I still could have prevented it by being a better brother."

Guilt stabs at his heart as Fingon goes on to express his feelings about the conflict with his family, and Maitimo realizes how selfish he must have been to bring up his own problems during a time like this. And then his apology for bringing that up makes Maitimo feel even guiltier. Now Fingon doesn't even feel like he can talk to Maitimo about the griefs of his heart. How is he possibly supposed to bear them, then?

"Nay, brother, you have nothing to apologize to me for. It was insensitive and selfish of me to bring up my own problems in the midst of such a difficult time for you. I shouldn't be thinking about my brothers or the guilt or any of that when I ought to be focusing on how to help you and your father."

He pauses, thinking more carefully over Fingon's words and adding, "I do not believe that you should be forced to carry this burden of perfection your father has placed on you. But I do wonder if there is some truth to the statement that you have always been in some sort of conflict with him, but not realized it till now. I have been wondering the same thing about some of my own family members. I never perceived a strong conflict between you and Nolofinwë, but you are very different, now that I think about it. You have a valiant heart and are inclined towards action and justice, while he is more passive and wishes above else to appease Fëanaro. Perhaps this conflict has been brewing long and only reared its head recently, but that's only my speculation.

"Regardless, I hope that today there can be some resolution about this, and that's why I'm coming with you, because I'm hoping that I may be of some help in keeping things peaceful... though, seeing how things have been lately, I only hope I won't simply do the opposite and make everything worse. If only Finwë had agreed to come with us. He is wise and compassionate, and holds authority over your father. He could have helped..."

In fact, Maitimo's mind is in such an intense swirl of anxious, despairing and bitter thoughts, amplified by what he feels is betrayal from Finwë, that he only hopes his head will be clear enough that he can actually help his friend and not say something volatile and stupid.

As they speak, they glance around in some of the various rooms, with no sign of Nolofinwë.

 

[Elbereth Vala Varda]

Nerdanel sighs, walking beside him. Everything he is saying is what she wants to believe, but it's as if she's seen the truth, and now, there is no going back. She can't see herself in innocent light any longer. Everything is colored with a dark shadow of guilt, as though Feanor and herself carry the burden for a wounded Nelyo and a broken relationship of families. "I suppose you are right." She smiles, speaking something that she certainly doesn't believe, but not wanting to continue this endless circle of an argument any longer. "It's just, it's hard to believe all of this. I'm sure I'm just still in shock and wonder at it all."

Those words aren't deceitful in nature. She certainly is telling the truth through them. None of what has happened had ever seemed possible for Eldar, and certainly not anything that anyone would have expected or prepared for. Being in shock and denial wasn't an out of question response. It would be very natural to think that way. But somehow, somewhere, she knew it was deeper than just that. She knew it was much more powerful and terrible than just a natural response to a pressing issue. There was a deep responsibility, no, a guilt.

I have to get my sons out of there. She thinks to herself. I can't let them be seen in this unkindly light any longer, and I know, I know that things will only get worse.

Perhaps it was just a feeling, a figment of sentimental clauses, but she still feels personally dutiful to freeing her sons. All of them. They must all get out, lest their causes be forgotten, and their judgment go untampered with.

Amrod nods eagerly. "Okay. I'll look him in the eyes." It had always delighted and relieved Amrod a little that father seemed to have that same detail-oriented quizzical mind, and even understood him. The gentle and straightforward response of Feanor was always good. He never ignored questions, and Amrod admired that.

Nerdanel listens as her husband speaks, asking why she hasn't taken his hand, as if it wasn't so obviously clear. She shrugs. "I just haven't." Comes her cold reply. However, she ignores the second portion. He ought to know that she is not 'alright' and if he does not know, she had better not tell him, and continue whatever miracle of secrecy she seems to have stumbled into.

~~~

Fingon all but rolls his eyes as he hears Maitimo's response. The brothers and his parents seem to have it so deeply drilled into his skull that he's the one at fault here, when it couldn't be further from the truth. "They're not telling you the truth!" He shouts back. "You aren't the one to blame! They are! I am! But you?" He shakes his head miserably, blowing out a sigh. "Not you... not you... Not their perfect Maitimo..."

He can sense the twinge of envy and snappy tendencies in his last few words, and it scares him to hear that coming from himself. He doesn't want to feel that. Any emotions of anger or jealousy towards his friend are feelings he doesn't want to harbor. But still, how could he not? Maitimo is peaceful, calm, docile, hard-working, obedient, kind... perfect. Everything that father wanted from him, it all seemed to be manifested in Maitimo so bountifully, and the thought of that makes Findekano sick.

I bet you wish you could just trade me for my cousin. He thinks internally, as if a silent dialogue was taking place between him and his father. I bet he'd be the perfect son I never was...

There they are again. Those dark thoughts detected again. He's got to stop thinking these, or it could turn into real malice against Maitimo, and he knows it. So, he walks a little further out than Maitimo, keeping his distance for fear that those emotions may one day take over. And, after walking far enough that he hopes Maitimo isn't watching him, he administers a small slap at himself. "...shut up..." He whispers, almost inaudibly as he hangs his head low. "...shut up... shut up... shut up... You have got to be stronger than this. You've got to be there for him."

As he keeps walking, he finds himself almost in a daze. The ground beneath his feet feels like it's moving, and he just keeps standing still, moving onward with it. Of course, however, that's not the case. He's walking. He just doesn't feel it. He stumbles towards the doorway of a study, the inside lit, and his heart almost skips out of his chest.

"Well, we're here..." He mutters in Maitimo's direction. "Father is just inside."

~~~

Meanwhile, Finwe has been walking the halls, musing over all that had happened with his oldest grandson, and sees around the corner many familiar faces. "Curufinwe!" He exclaims, rushing towards his beloved son with arms open wide. Nothing mattered more than his children.

 

[Maedhros_Nelyafinwë]

Fëanor nods in understanding. It's certainly reasonable and understandable enough for anyone to have conflicting feelings and perhaps act unusually during such times as these. And Nerdanel has always been such an empathetic one, always feeling the hearts of her own children as though they're her own, so this would be especially painful for her to walk through. Fëanor has always somewhat looked on her compassion from a distance with admiration, since he has never had that way with his own children.

"It is understandable for you to feel that way," he says. "Forgive me if I have been too harsh on you, my love."

He nods at Amrod, pleased that he is responding with such enthusiasm to his advice.

But when Nerdanel responds to his question with such coldness, he blinks at her in shock. "Are you angry at me?" he asks somewhat bluntly. If she is, he'd rather she just tell him and then they can work it out.

However, they don't have much time to talk about it before they spot Finwë walking down the halls, and Fëanor is both shocked and disturbed to see him alone. He embraces his father, but asks him with concern, "Where is Nelyo? I thought he was with you."

~~~

Maitimo flinches visibly at the words of Fingon, shocked to see such impassioned anger and bitterness suddenly arising out of him. He has seen Fingon angry before, certainly, but not directly at him. And the way he utters those words "their perfect Maitimo" feels so bitter, even mocking and sarcastic. And who can blame him for that? If it weren't for Maitimo and his problems, Fingon would have never been in this situation in the first place. It was Maitimo who ultimately planted the seeds of conflict between Nolofinwë and Findekano, even if he didn't do it intentionally, so he can hardly blame his friend for resenting him.

So, his fears for this whole situation are already coming true. He is making everything worse simply with his presence. Perhaps it would be wiser and better for everyone if he just walked away from all this while he still could, and yet he can't bring himself to do that. Even though he feels like he is fighting a fate which seems so stacked against him, he still can't help but have that glimmer of hope that he may be able to stop Fingolfin from hurting his son again. Maitimo knows he can't leave Findekano alone to face his father's wrath. If it were the other way around, Fingon would never do that.

He is so stunned and lost in his own thoughts for a moment that he barely notices Fingon walking farther away, but after a few minutes he glances over and sees that Findekano appears in great anguish, shaking his head and seeming to mutter something to himself. And yet what can Maitimo say to comfort him? He's already tried everything, with no success, it would seem.

"I only hope I can now right the wrongs I have done against you, brother," he says, somewhat coldly and numbly.

They come to a stop by the door, and Maitimo takes a deep breath, suppressing the sickening dread he feels, and knocks on the door before he can offer himself a chance to change his mind. "Uncle?" he asks, though his voice feels hoarse and tight. "It's Maitimo, and..." he closes his eyes and shudders, already hating himself for this betrayal, but seeing no other option. "Findekano is with me."

 

[Elbereth Vala Varda]

"I'm not angry." Nerdanel responds in a cool tone, rather immediately. "Not at you..." Her eyes narrow as she glances across the room. If she was wrong in the past, and this was all her fault, and she had been a terrible mother, what did that mean? Thoughts flooded her head. Where would justice put her? What should she be doing? How can she ever make it up to her sons for not being the woman they needed? She feels a sense of guilt and responsibility failure, and it's almost too much to deny. "It's fine. I'm fine." She finally finishes, slipping her hand into the pocket hemmed on her shawl, to avoid any further questions from her husband.

Finwe warmly embraces Feanor in return, his eyes sparkling with love. Gazing at and being with his eldest was always a wonderful experience. No one made him feel prouder, grin wider, smile broader, cheer louder, than his excellent and masterful son Feanor. Of course, he always tried to make the other sons feel valuable and amazing, but everyone was second best when lined aside the greatest smith in all of Arda and the heir to the throne of the Noldor.

Then, came the questions. Finwe blows out a sigh. "He is... not with me... I suppose you could say, there were some unlikely and highly unexpected occurrences, while you weren't there." He gestures for Feanor to come closer, and bring whoever he would like to hear what Finwe has to say. He's only going to tell this story once, after all. Once is more than enough. "He's uhm... he's with Fingon." And with that, he goes silent, awaiting Feanor's reaction and already having placed a cool, calming hand on Feanor's forearm, conditioning his fire with anticipation before it was even sparked into motion.

~~~

Fingon hears the words of Maitimo in response, and they somehow make him feel any worse. It's not enough for you to be better than me, you have to rub it in even further by apologizing for it. Even though his cousin's words are incredibly polite, they just feel like iron nails, driving in the same insecurities and pounding the knowledge of being lesser deep into his skin.

"I'm glad you're so perfect..." He adds, anger tightening in his chest like a vise. "I'm glad you're just everything that everyone wants you to be. Maitimo the Peacemaker... Maitimo the Strong, the Well-formed One... the perfect one..." He scoffs. "And then you throw it back at me, like I don't know I'm not good enough!" His voice turns almost mocking, imitating Nelyo in a way that he never should have. "I'm sorry I'm better than you. It's tough that you're not perfect...!" His eyes brim with tears. None of this anger at Maitimo is curing his own weakness. It just makes him feel even more sick, even worse about everything. It's just directing all of his anger at his cousin, and he knows it's not a good solution.

"...just shut up!" He mutters a bit more harshly at himself, taking a distance even further from Maitimo. "...you're making everything worse...! ...you're ruining everything... just like you did before..." He slaps himself again. "...shut up... just because you aren't enough, doesn't mean that you can hate him for telling you so..." He kicks the back of his ankle, not very harshly, but just hoping that something will knock him sense into him and stop him from acting so snappy. "...you're only making everything worse...stop..."

~~~

The knock on the door and voice of Maitimo startle Fingolfin, causing him to drop his quill back into the inkwell, getting up from his desk. He doesn't quite know how to react. Maitimo is here, which is a great opportunity for him to do the one thing that he had been intending to do. Apologize. Of course, he had intended to do such in the form of a letter sent to Feanor's House, because of the ban on their Houses visiting, but now he may be able to give his apology in person, and it delights him very much. However, the last part of Maitimo's words sends a sickening dread through his mind.

Fingon. The last person in the world he would want to see or talk to, and somehow also seeming to be the person that he couldn't get away from, no matter how hard he tried. How much he'd planned and wanted to just throw his son out of the House already. Give him a beating, and then send him away, far, very far away. Or drag him back to their House to spend a month or many in the dungeon, preferably hanging by chains, with the hope that it might knock some sense into his dumb son. Initially, he wanted to have an agreement with Feanor to almost have Fingon work a temporary labor, to learn that he was less than Feanor in every way and ought not to challenge him. However, he had strayed from such an idea, worried to place the burden of Findekano on anyone else. Needless to say, he wasn't excited about seeing his son, if he even considered Fingon to be family anymore.

"Does your father know you are here?" Fingolfin asked, peeking his head through the cracked doorway and meeting the glance of Maitimo for a few seconds. "I know he doesn't want us to visit, but I will be brief. As for Fingon, he can stay outside." He can't imagine what Fingon is doing with Maitimo, but he can deal with beating and punishing and reprimanding his child later. Best to get the apology out of the way, and then he can deal with Findekano privately, when everyone is gone.

He would have flashed a dark glance at Findekano, but right now, he didn't even want to see him. How his own son could have the audacity and disrespect to act so blatantly inappropriately, he could not begin to fathom. So, instead, his gritted teeth as he uttered his son's name and the way his glance turned dark and angry when speaking of Fingon would have to suffice.

 

[Maedhros_Nelyafinwë]

Fëanor nods, trying to take assurance in Nerdanel's words, but still feeling that something is off, and he can't tell what. But he doesn't have time to ask her about it before Finwë arrives.

When Finwë speaks, Fëanor's eyes widen in initial shock, and then flash with anger. To be separated from the House of Nolofinwë has been not just his desire but his command. And he especially wanted Nelyo to have some time away from Fingon; the boy was not at all a good influence on his eldest, and Finwë knew this full well, and now defied Fëanor's wishes behind his back.

"I expressly commanded that my House and that of Nolofinwë be separated," he says coldly, pulling away from Finwë. "And why would you let Nelyo and Findekano go off alone? Are my wishes respected by no one anymore? I entrusted Nelyo to you, Father! Why have you done this?"

He pauses, realizing he may have gone too far in his words, and sighs a little. "Forgive me; I do not wish to go against you, Father. I'm concerned for my son, based on how he was looking and acting earlier. What has happened? Please, tell me the full story."

~~~

Maitimo staggers back, his face going white with horror as Fingon's words pour out like a torrent of acidic rain.

He doesn't really mean those things... does he?

Maitimo understands that Fingon is angry and stressed, and understandably so. He even understands if Fingon is angry at him, but he had hoped it wasn't true. That there was still one person in Valinor that he could depend on, and now that seems to be crumbling. He has learned not to trust his parents and brothers very much, and though he trusts Fëanoriel, her own griefs are great and he doesn't wish to be a burden on her. He'd thought Finwë was trustworthy and safe too, but seeing the way he broke his promise and left Maitimo and Findekano to fend for themselves against Nolofinwë, that trust is now shattered too. And he had known Fingon was going through a lot, and he hadn't expected much from him, but now that he can hear Fingon's brutally honest, unfiltered words, Maitimo feels Fingon has finally revealed his true opinion of him. And that opinion is that he is haughty, self-absorbed, and self-righteous, and rides around on a high horse of moral superiority. All this time, Fingon, like most everyone else it would seem, has simply been too polite to tell the real truth about who Maitimo really is.

And Maitimo realizes maybe he is all those things. It makes sense in light of what Amrod has revealed. A selfish prince who thinks he's better than everyone, treats his sister with favoritism and neglects his brothers and his friends... it makes all too much sense. No wonder his brothers tried so hard to kill him.

So lost is he in these thoughts that he is stunned when Fingolfin opens the door and speaks to him, and it takes a moment for him to refocus his attention on Nolofinwë's words. And he doesn't know what to think about them. He's somewhat glad, perhaps, that Fingolfin isn't allowing Fingon in. It might make things easier for everyone, since he's not in a particular mood to speak to his cousin either.

Reassembling his thoughts and trying to regain some composure, he stammers, "Nay, my father does not now, but I simply came to say, it was an accident that we found each other. So, please, do not punish Findekano for this."

Yes, despite all this, he's still defending Fingon. He doesn't feel that Fingon was being unnecessarily cruel, after all; he was simply revealing a long-concealed truth.

"If anything," he adds, getting a sudden idea, "punish me. I was the one who found him, not the other way around. He was in a study, and Finwë and I inadvertently stumbled into it, and he clearly wanted to leave, but I insisted on speaking with him."

He continues, his eyes dark and his voice bitter, "Besides, you said it yourself... I am the one who brought all this trouble to your fine House in the first place. Had I not come running to you with my problems, which as it turns out I brought upon myself, this conflict would have never started up between you and him."

 

[Elbereth Vala Varda]

Finwe staggers back a bit at Feanor's response. He had known it was going to be intense, and even full of anger, but this seemed a bit of an unreasonable reaction, even for Feanor. "I'm sorry- my son... I didn't want to leave them. But they were going to do something that would violate my conscience. They were going to do something deceitful." His eyes narrow, laying a gentle hand on Curufinwe's shoulder in an attempt to calm him. "It began some time ago... I was walking with Maitimo and taking him to my study, to speak and to process some of the things that had taken place. I had entered the room and was busy lighting torches, to provide some light." He blows out a sigh. "That was when it happened. Fingon was hiding in the corner of the room, unbeknownst to me. He looked," He pauses, trying to think of words to describe it. "So, tired... And he'd clearly been beaten even more, apparently whipped, but I'll get to that soon." Another careful pause was made, and he kept going.

"Maitimo saw him first. If I had seen him, I quickly would have exited the room. But it was too late and seeing him in such disheveled state really worried your poor Nelyo. So, I let Fingon explain. I didn't think it would take long, but I wanted to give Nelyo his chance to be helpful. The poor boy needs more of that. He's felt sort of an eyesore lately, and I don't want him to." He leans in to Feanor for a second, whispering. "I really, really don't want him to." And with that, he keeps going. "Fingon told his story, how his father apparently separated him from his siblings, beat him in front of them, on and on... I don't know whether they are true or not. I'd have wanted to test it, but Nelyo was expressly against the idea." He closes his eyes, getting to a less pleasant portion of the story. "Then Nelyo argued with me. He tried to convince me to go speak with Nolofinwe and save his cousin, but I told him that I would only do it on one condition... That Nolofinwe and you know that the two sons had been together. They rejected that, and chose the path of deceit. Therefore, they left. I told them that I simply could not help, not if what they were doing violated my conscience. And indeed it did. I couldn't be brought to conceal such a secret, nor to tell Nolofinwe a scolding judgment without ever seeing him hurt his child."

He lets out a breath of relief, clasping his hands neatly together before him. "So, that's the story. The two are currently off finding Fingon's father, and apparently doing whatever deed will be done with that." His eyes become more sincere, if that was even possible. "I'm sorry, son... I hope you are not too angry at your father. I did not mean to violate your judgment, but I must hold true to my own."

~~~

Fingolfin opens the door a little wider, seeing the clear distress on Maitimo. "An accident? You do not have to lie in cover for your miserable cousin. I know he sought you out. I know this was his fault, not yours." He extends one hand, hoping Maitimo will grab it. "I will punish him. I will do as is right, as is just. As I'm sure you would want."

Hearing Maitimo's words about remembering Fingolfin's previous beliefs, a deep pang of guilt seizes his heart, and he steps outside the door, just enough to give Maitimo an embrace. "No... no, child.... This isn't your fault. It never was, and it never will be...." He smiles sadly. "I was just angry and in shock at things in my own life. I reacted with anger at you, because that is what we do, hmm?" He closes his eyes for a second. "When our hearts wield arrows, every obstacle becomes a target. We fire at everything we see... But we shouldn't." He pulls Maitimo in tighter, enjoying the moment with his nephew. "I personally offer my most heartfelt and sincere apology for everything that I said to you. It was not true. It came from a place of anger, and not a place of love. I was justly angry, but it wasn't just to be aimed at you. I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry." His eyes cloud a bit with tears. "Will you forgive me?"

Fingon stares down at the ground, watchfully seeing all of this play out in front of him. How much he would pay just to have a fragment of that apology, and how much he would sacrifice just to get one embrace with his father. This could have been his. It should have been his. Instead, Maitimo got the love while he stood indignantly aside. This exchange only fueled his anger at Maitimo.

Why am I an outcast in my own house while he enjoys affection from everyone? I want to be his friend, I really want to. But how can I love someone so infuriating and haughty?

His gaze drifts back to Fingolfin and Maitimo, still seeming thoroughly engaged with each other, and suddenly, something inside him just snaps. "How could you?!" He screams and shakes a fist, directed at Maitimo. "So, it isn't enough that you're better than me, you're stronger than I am, you can keep the peace-- you-you have to steal my father just like you've stolen everything else?!" He grunts. "Agh! I asked for your help... this- this is what you give me!?" Of course, the anger is all a facade. Inside, he's breaking apart. Inside, he's plunging so deep into sorrow that he could be drowned in it.

 

[Áramandë Amaniel]

I am broken rather suddenly from my thoughts by sounds of yelling and shouting from afar. Standing up silently, I move forward, my soft steps echoing across the ground. At last I stand before a certain door, hearing some voices - Fingon's, I think. But who is he speaking to....?

I knock on the door a little, wondering if any will open the door and let me in - or not.​

 

[Maedhros_Nelyafinwë]

Fëanor's dismay and horror increases with every word spoken by Finwë. This whole story seems such a disaster, and the more details Finwë shares, the more anxious Fëanor grows. So, Fingon showed obvious signs of being beaten, and Finwë still let him and Maitimo go alone after Nolofinwë? Fëanor can hardly believe he's hearing this out of his own father. How can anyone respond with such inaction when his own grandchildren are in harm's way? Finwë explains that his reason for not intervening had something to do with his own conscience and desire not to be dishonest, but Fëanor doesn't understand what he means by that, and doesn't particularly care to find out. Whatever the reason is, it seems weak and practically cowardly in the face of such a dangerous situation.

"So, you are telling me," he says, his gaze and voice both icy, "that you saw that Findekano had been whipped, and you let him and Nelyo go after Nolofinwë anyway? Alone? Father, I do not wish to be angry at you, but you have put my eldest in danger! How do we know that Nolofinwë wouldn't hurt him too, if he did such things to his own son? Has Nelyo not seen enough violence already to last a lifetime? To expose him to any chance of further danger is reckless and thoughtless at best!"

These are harsh words, but Fëanor feels as though they are deserved. Perhaps Finwë does not really understand the grave danger here, since he has never actually had to deal with violence amongst his children before. Whereas Fëanor now has experience in dealing with such matters. Far too much experience. So, though he doesn't delight in speaking such harsh words against his beloved father, something needs to wake him up to the grim reality of this situation.

There are many other details of this story to sort out; perhaps there is a chance that Nolofinwë did not really treat his own son like that, but if not, then how did Findekano get those wounds? But Fëanor realizes that the seconds may be precious. It's safer, he realizes, to err on the side of caution and find his son and nephew immediately before they can get hurt.

Rising to authority, he then speaks as a commander, giving out orders. "Nerdanel, take Amrod and see if you can find Maglor and Fëanoriel. Finwë and I must find Nelyo, and quickly." Looking pointedly at Finwë, he says, "We haven't a moment to waste. Where do you think they may have gone?"

Despite the stress and danger of this situation, Fëanor almost feels more at ease and comfortable now than he has for much of this visit. Instead of trying to puzzle out the feelings and motives of others, he finally gets to take charge of a situation and do something tangible and practical to take action. He will save Nelyo this time, and for Fëanor, this finally feels like a fitting role, a chance for him to exercise his skills and prove his strengths.

~~~

If it weren't for all the horrible events having taken place recently, Maitimo would have readily accepted what looks on the surface like such a heartfelt apology. He would have relished in the doting love of his uncle, which he had always bestowed on his children and his nephews and everyone else who needed it. Maitimo would have forgiven readily, and delighted in doing so.

Now, though, he knows better.

He can see plainly, based on the words and behaviors of Amrod, Finwë and now Fingon, that his loved ones are prone to saying nice things to his face but then revealing in a more authentic moment of stress how they really felt, and this is surely no exception.

Further, Maitimo is painfully aware of Fingon standing nearby, watching all this, and he can feel his face flushing with shame as Fingolfin bestows his outwardly-kind words and affectionate gestures.

And worst of all is the angered outcry from Fingon. His words cut deeply like a knife to the gut, and yet Maitimo can't bring himself to be angry about them. He'd be angry if the accusations were untrue, but they are true. Though he didn't mean to do it, he has indeed stolen what is rightfully Fingon's. He can't tolerate this injustice for one more second. It's like enjoying a king's feast in front of a starving orphan.

Maitimo pulls fiercely away from the embrace of Nolofinwë, and loudly blurts out, "I'll forgive you, Uncle, when and if I can see that your apology is sincere and not mere ammunition meant to hurt Findekano even more!"

Foolish, foolish words. Maitimo realizes with dread that he probably has no hope of helping Fingon any more, that his words have ruined all his chances. This accusation may not even be true; maybe Nolofinwë is sincere, but based on what Maitimo has seen from everyone lately, he's not optimistic about that. And despite the foolishness and futility of saying these words, he can't stop them from tumbling out even more, so fed up is he from all this conflict and drama.

"I can't believe you're doing such a cruel thing! You are using me to punish your son even more. Maybe I deserve it, but he doesn't! The beatings, the separation from his siblings, and now this manipulation is disproportionate relative to some aggressive and ill-timed words spoken over dinner. You used to be a kind and merciful man, Nolofinwë, and I believe it was my own wretched family that brought this evil to you, so please... stop this..."

Staggering back, he falls to his knees, struggling to hold back sobs, his despair growing with every second. Ruined, ruined... so much for a peaceful and diplomatic resolution. It is just as he feared; Maitimo has made everything worse with his mere presence.

A knock on the door startles him. For an instant his hopes arise that maybe someone is here to help, but he quickly tells himself otherwise; nothing and no one can fix this mess now.

 

[Áramandë Amaniel]

I knock once more, hearing yet no reply. My heart races in despair, anxiety and sorrow.

Why will no one open? What has transpired that I know not of?

But my ire too increases.

Who is hiding things from me? Are they seeking to double-cross?

At this thought of double-crossing, my mind instantly wanders to the brothers - the treacherous ones - and for a brief moment my heart seems to stop.

They could not have been. It's impossible. They wouldn't be released. Father wouldn't let them. And this isn't even...

I shake my head, letting out a small grunt of despair and annoyance at thinking of such ridiculous thoughts.

No! What am I thinking? This is all nonsense; we're not even back yet! They wouldn't have escaped without anyone noticing! We're not even at our own House! This is Finwë's, not Father's! Get yourself together, Fëanoriel Ancalírë!

Heaving a little sigh, I await for another response.​