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

🎲 Role Playing Game
Nerdanel casts her arm around him. "Awh, love..." She says, holding him closely, but being very mindful of his injury. "I know... This is all so hard on you... Tell me, what would make it better?" She whispers. "What would help you feel normal, and give you some joy?" She tries to comfort him, feeling much sympathy for her son. "Heaven knows you need it."

It's very troubling that he is only now admitting this. Her poor soon seems to not feel any comfort or peace even in his own home, and her heart goes out to him because of it. She would heal everything for him, turn back everything, bring them back to the peaceful and lovely family they once were. She knows how much he hates conflict and she knows how much it hurts him to see it.

He wants peace, and she knows it. For she is the same as he, and desires to have peace and wisdom in life, and doesn't want conflict, especially in the home and family. So this must all be like torture for her poor son, and she wishes he didn't have to endure it. She would take his place if she could, or change back everything that had happened. But alas' she could not offer such.

~~

Fingon interrupts again. "No." He says. "I'm fine. Just tell me what, father, and I will do it."

Fingolfin nods. "Very well. Tell me everything. Details. What happened on your journey?"

Findekano lets out a sigh. This wasn't the story he wanted to tell.
 
Maitimo is silent for a while. What can help, really? It doesn't seem like anything will... there's no repairing the situation with the brothers, and it unsettles him to think that they aren't very far away from where he is, even if they're locked up. The family will feel so small and empty with the absence of the four, and things are even strained amongst himself and Amrod and Maglor. And where Maitimo once thought it silly and paranoid to be armed in his own home, he has plans now of going to the armory as soon as he's well enough to walk that distance, and getting himself a sword to carry at all times, and mithril mail to wear at all times, even in sleep. That is no longer a ridiculous and paranoid idea, but a practical and necessary one. The brothers could escape somehow and attack him again. It's not out of the question. In fact, he's not thinking of it so much as if it will happen again, but when. And when it does happen, he needs to be better prepared.

But he doesn't want to dishearten Nerdanel by telling her that nothing will help, so he tries to smile and says, "You are already helping, by being here, and lending a listening ear. The healers seem to think that the poison will go away completely as long as I'm still for a while longer. And I think I should rest soon... I am exhausted."

~~

Aredhel waits silently, watching Findekano with intense focus. She is very curious to know the details of the full story, even though it will be difficult for him to relive it.
 
"'Tis your father," Fëanor replies. "I would like to speak with you, and I have something for you."
 
My eyes widen a little as I get up and unlock the door.

"Come in...tell me of what you wish to say, and what you yearn to tell."
 
Fëanor enters, and says nothing at first, but holds out her Silmaril and offers it to her, smiling gently.

"I am sorry I took this from you," he says after a moment. "I should not have done such, but I have taken it and studied it, and I am amazed that you possess some of the same abilities as me."
 
My eyes widen.

"Wait...you took it? I thought back then...so long ago, that ,it was one of the brothers...Celegorm mayhap that had stolen it from me unjustly. When did you retrieve it?"
 
"It was at the Two Trees, when we fought so bitterly..." Fëanor's face darkens with sorrow as he thinks back on that time, and how he had wounded her in the chaos of the fight. "You were unconscious, and I sensed the power of this Silmaril of yours, and I took it, though Nelyo tried to stop me. And I am sorry for this. We were going through so much turmoil, and it made me fearful and suspicious to see it, but I was in error to think that way about you, daughter."
 
Nerdanel smiles. "Oh, of course that's your response..." She says softly. "What a blessing it is to have you for a child..." And truly, that has become more clear than ever in these past days. No one in the family was as kind and tender, so gentle, like Nelyo. He had always been a wonderful son and she was blessed to have him in her life, but she never understood the full beauty that he had, and how wonderous a son he truly was.

She smiles at him. "You're such a good son, so perfect, so obedient..." She tries to comfort him. "I don't pick favorites..." She says with a bit of mirth. "But if I did, it would be you." She lets go. "If you need to rest, just tell me. I'll go."
 
I stand still for a few moments, processing this all.

This was a truth that I had not known. It had been hidden from me. How many other things have become like this, and how many more will be?

But soon I return to gaze down upon the Silmaril, then upwards at Feanor. A few seconds pass, as my gaze averts back and forth in such way.

Almost too suddenly, I tackle him into a heartfelt embrace as I speak:

"Think not of such things, and dwell not upon those times. We had went against each other, and yet now, we stand reconciled. This change of heart within you is what proves to be the most valuable, and the longest lasting."

A few moments of warming silence pass before I continue:

"I still don't quite regard this Silmaril as my own. Half of it might have been, yet the other half...not quite."
 
"You shouldn't pick favorites," Maitimo says, but even in saying that, can't help but feel a little cheered at her saying that. After so many harsh and hateful words have been spoken against him, and after all the guilt he has carried, it feels nice to be spoken highly of, for once. He adds as an attempt at a joke, "You say that because I have your hair, don't you?"

As they speak, he grows drowsy, and his eyes are half-closed. One of the healers approaches Nerdanel and says softly, "He should be left alone to rest now."

~~

Fëanor had fully expected her to be angry-- he certainly would be in her situation, if someone else had wrongfully taken his Silmarils. So he is both shocked and relieved when she embraces him with such enthusiasm, and he closes his arms around her too.

"You have a good and forgiving heart, daughter, and I am grateful to be reconciled to you," he says. "Yet why would you not regard this creation as fully your own? It has the essence of your fëa in it, so it is a part of you, and fully yours."
 
I give a soft sigh, falling deeper into the embrace.

"Well, it does indeed have my own essence...and yet I feel that there is something greater within it also...and what that is, I cannot quite exactly tell."

In thought, I think to myself:

One half from my essence, the other half, this greater part, from the Grace and Light of the Valar. What more, I truly cannot tell.
 
Nerdanel smiles and laughs, shaking her head. "Nay. I say that because you have my heart." She gives him a tender look and squeezes his hand a bit. "You should rest, love. Poor thing, you look so tired." She nods at the healer and steps gently away, taking care not to hurt Maitimo, or make too much noise so as to startle him.

~~

Fingon gives a sigh. "A lot happened, and I was injured, as I'm sure you've seen, but it doesn't really matter now that it is all over." He doesn't want to lie, but once again, if father knew that he had been left to die by Nerdanel, he'd never let him go back again to see Maitimo.

Fingolfin's eyes narrow. "Yes. It does matter. Speak to me son. Closed have been your thoughts of late, and distant our days. Restore this with me, son, that a great void may not be driven between us."

"I-" Findekano sighs. He longs to tell his father of everything, mainly because it all still hurts him, and the thought of struggling alone with all these thoughts seems unbearable to him. "I left without your permission. Followed Nerdanel's company. I rode onward, far, very far, following them, and all the while I missed you deeply." He begins, but is careful not to reveal all.
 
"Interesting..." Fëanor's gaze turns back and forth between his daughter, and her gem. "Perhaps we may study it together, and find the answer to this mystery."

~~

Aredhel listens to all this, feeling as though Findekano seems very uncertain and guarded with his words, and she wonders why. She worries for him that something terrible must have happened along the journey, something worse than some minor scuffle or accident. But she doesn't want to push him or make the situation worse, so she is silent.
 
Fingolfin flashes him a puzzled glance. "Is that all?" He says gently. "Why did you stop? You still haven't told me what happened to you."

"A lot happened, too much to tell in my opinion." Fingon says immediately, almost in a defensive way.

"Son, what is going on?" Fingolfin's voice is soft, gently begging his son to be honest.

Fingon glances around nervously, and somewhat frightenedly. He doesn't know who to turn to. It feels like torture to bear these thoughts alone, and even worse is the pain that his efforts were for nothing. He probably made Maitimo's life even harder. If only he had left it alone. He wouldn't bear that guilt and those thoughts silently in his heart, and he wouldn't have an intense pain in his head.

He longs to tell over everything. 'Father would understand.' He thinks to himself, but quickly chides that mindset, believing that while his father might understand, he wouldn't let him ride out again, even if he was recovered and had healed fully from his injury. If Fingolfin knew that, he wouldn't ever feel the same, he'd be too protective of Fingon. Besides, Findekano did not even want to acknowledge and remember what happened back there. The ords that had been screamed in his face, the many disrespectful titles he seemed to have gained that night. How he wishes he could forget it all and it would never come back.
 
"Don't keep it locked up," Aredhel says gently, seeing distress plainly written on her brother's face. "It won't help you to keep it inside, and we want to help you. Right, Father?" She glances at Fingolfin intently, hoping he'll read her message that they need to be gentle with Findekano if they want to find out the full story from him.
 
Fingolfin nods. "Of course." He says softly. "I am angry at you, for you disobeyed me, but foremost you are my son, and I care for you."

Fingon looks upward, sighing. "There really isn't much to tell." He says, in an almost cold way. "Like I said, it was a long journey and it's hardly worth restating." He desperately wants to say something in response to his sister's and father's kindness, but he knows that he can't tell the truth or Fingolfin will became furious with Feanor's House, and he can't lie, not after the tenderness they have shown him. The best thing to do is to be vague, and hope they don't ask questions.

Fingolfin narrows his eyes. "That doesn't seem right." He says. "You must have some story... I can see you do."
 
Aredhel nods in agreement with Fingolfin. "Something must have happened to cause you to turn back... I know of your devotion to Maitimo, and how your heart was set on following him all the way home."

She doesn't mean to press him too hard, but both she and Fingolfin know him too well to be fooled by his attempts to dodge around the story.
 
Fingolfin's eyes widen, and he slams his fist down against a table in the study.

"Follow him all the way home? Findekano, what is the meaning of this?"

Fingon gives a bit of an exasperated look at Aredhel, almost unintentionally. "He's my closest friend, father. He'd do no less for me."
 
Aredhel falls silent once again. She didn't realize that Fingolfin hadn't been told that detail, or inferred it, but now is the time for everything to be told.
 

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