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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
I turn to Maitimo as we walk down the halls, speaking to him in soft tones so that none other can hear:

"It's not right. She doesn't understand at all. We are to speak no more of Fingon to Mother. We simply can't; not because we've done wrong, but because she doesn't realise any of this. She keeps trying to demean this friendship between you and him...must the sorrows of the living world be so great?"

I heave a soft sigh, fearing that with my last question I may have hinted at something too far, and a few moments of silence reign over me, although I cast a quick glance at him, and he seems troubled by what I had just said. Yet I turn back to face him, stopping him in his tracks as my gaze intensifies.

"We cannot speak with her about this. Most definitely not. And not even Fëanor, I might think, for he sundered-"

I stop short, tears brimming at the edges of my eyes, threatening to fall, and I take a shaky breath.

"He sundered the Houses....no, we can't speak to him either."

Wiping my tears away, I grip his shoulders firmly, as if to steady myself, and my voice drops to a lower tone.

"Finwë. He may be able to help us. After all, he is the eldest of us all, the High King of the Noldor. He must know...he has more experience. He must know what true friendship is like, and I have a feeling that he may lessen our griefs. Tomorrow, we may go to him if we can."​
 
Maitimo is relieved that Nerdanel hasn't followed them, so he can have a few minutes alone with Ancalirë. The two of them haven't really gotten a chance to talk about all this anyway.

He nods in agreement with her regarding her words about Fingon. "I agree; we must certainly not mention him at all if it can be avoided. But if she gets on one of her rants about him again, I can't help but defend him. He's done so much for me, and for both of us, that I can't bear to hear him spoken of this way. Perhaps it would be wiser to let her think she's had her way and convinced me to her side, but I cannot do that, not in good conscience."

When she speaks of the sorrows of the living world, he sighs and nods. He isn't sure how much more of all this conflict and heated passion his fëa can take. It seems to him like there is little, if any, joy left in life. Between what his brothers did, the way he is now separated from his dearest friend and has to hear him constantly scorned and ridiculed, the severity of what Amrod did to himself and how it very well might be Maitimo's own fault... what good or happy thing does he have to look forward to anymore?

But Ancalirë reminds him of Finwë, and he pauses and nods. "This is true; Finwë spoke some wise and encouraging words to me earlier, but now I'm beginning to doubt them, for he does not know of what I have done to inspire Amrod to hurt himself, and the brothers to do what they did..."

~~~

Aredhel gazes over Fingolfin with sorrow as he walks off. She longs to go after him and plead with him some more, and perhaps to comfort him, for she is aware how Fëanaro must have hurt him greatly. But after all the conflict tonight, she won't refuse his request.

So, she and Turgon begin to walk inside, but they walk past Fingon and stop, conflicted. How can Father really expect to separate them from their own brother? Surely, he can't enforce such a rule every second of the day.

Glancing over to make sure they are out of earshot of Fingolfin, Turgon whispers to Fingon, "We won't leave you, brother. We can't."

~~~

After walking down the halls for a little bit, Fëanor comes across Nerdanel, though he is a bit surprised to see that the eldest two are not with her. "My love, how are you?" he asks. "Where are the children?"
 
My gaze turns downwards in sorrow.

"Then...can he truly help us? We are the only ones who seem to know the most about all this...and yet now..."

My thoughts wander, and soon I voice them audibly in great grief and despair, tears falling:

"Is there any hope left? Why do we still remain?"
 
Fingolfin, now finally alone, is able to take his weeping out in private, and he sits, distraught with the day and all that his come of it. His face buried in his hands, his eyes drenched with tears, wondering if he will ever see Feanor again in peace, or if there will ever be any comfort for him besides his brother. He thinks also of Findekano, and though he believes his son deserves it, he cannot bring himself to strike him another time. Not now. So much has happened, and he prays it will all end and be restored. He is aware that life is full of storms and peril, and yet those storms must some day pass. When will they?

Fingon gives a glance with one eye at Turgon, his legs still shaking as he inches back a few steps. "You should." He whispers, voice breaking. "If father saw you here with me, he'd beat you also. I may never be enough but let me be the only one." His selfless heart once more shines through the darkness of this day and the anger he carries. "Father's right. If someone has to struggle, let it fall to me. I want you all to have good lives, full of joy and abundance. I want father to treat you well, even if he doesn't do that for me."

He is deeply comforted by the words of Turgon, but after everything that Fingolfin has said, he truly believes that this is his burden to carry, and carry it he will, all alone.

~~~

Nerdanel smiles, taking Feanor's hands into her own. "I am well, love. How are you?" And at his second question she gives a slight shake of the head. "They got tired and asked that I would let them retire for the night. I'm sorry, if you had wanted to speak with them. I just understand that it has been a long and hard day, and they need some rest." She turns to Feanor, a glint in her eye. "And what about with you? What all took place in the garden?"

She longs to break into discussion and ask Feanor how she can destroy the friendship that Maitimo has, but she holds herself back for a moment. Always polite, she was going to let him speak first.
 
Maitimo embraces Ancalirë, though not too tightly, trying to be mindful of the armor he is wearing. Tears come to his eyes also, and for a while he is at a loss for words. The fact that she is feeling this way also comforts him in the sense that he is not completely alone, but it also grieves him because it means his griefs and fears are not unfounded.

"I don't know..." he says helplessly. "Not for the first time, I feel we are all alone in this world. What purpose or joys do we have left?"

~~~

"Don't talk like that," Turgon whispers, his concern growing by the bleakness of his brother's words. "Father won't find out, if I can help it. And if he does find out and decides to punish me, so what? Nothing in the world that he can do scares me enough to make me abandon you."

Aredhel nods tearfully and embraces Findekano. She realizes nobody likely has done such for him this entire evening.

~~~

"It's a long story," Fëanor says with a sigh. "I decided to accept Findekano's apology and leave his judgment up to his father. But in the meantime, I have decided that our House should be separated from theirs. The more I see of their fighting and desperation, the more certain I am that this was the right decision."

They come to the room where Finwë is watching over Amrod, and after knocking softly, they enter. Amrod appears to be asleep, and Finwë is sitting with care and vigilance at his bedside.

"How is he?" Fëanor asks Finwë.
 
I shake my head slowly, falling to my knees.

"Perhaps we have none. Why must this living realm fain be so cruel towards us? What have we done wrong? Why must we suffer like this? Surely beyond it...there must be peace, for there is none here."
 
Findekano shakes his head. "No... No, I don't want you suffering too. Brother, you deserve better. Don't choose that. You-you don't understand what that means." He is genuinely concerned and frightened by the way that Turgon seems sure that it would be a worthy sacrifice to see him. In fact, it terrifies him that his brother would do something like that. But it also comforts him. "Thank you, but don't do it."

But as Aredhel embraces him, his heart slips away for a moment. The feeling of affection, of truly being wanted and desired and not merely tolerated and shunned, it's so amazing to feel. And he can hardly keep from getting emotional over it. "Thank you... You have no idea what this means..."

Fingolfin begins to question what is going on, hearing complete silence from his sons and daughter. It's not what he expected.

~~~

Nerdanel seems surprised to hear Feanor's words. "Oh? You'll have to explain this all to me." It doesn't seem like Feanor to just drop everything that he held against Fingon on such short notice, but she isn't about to argue.

Finwe rises and smiles, seeing them enter in. "Ah, very lovely to see you, son," He pauses, a slight nod to Feanor. "And you also." He smiles on Nerdanel. "Come in. Amrod seems quite well. He was debating me on many things."
 
"You have done nothing wrong," Maitimo says. "Of that much, I am confident..."

But he doesn't know how to respond to her words about there being no peace in this life, because he can't reassure her. He can only agree with it, and yet, he doesn't want to. Truthfully, he's been yearning for Mandos for a very long time, though when that started, exactly, he can't say. He remembers thinking about it when his brothers tried to kill him for the second time, and the thought has not really left his mind since then. In a sense, he feels he has cheated death multiple times and no longer fully belongs here. He's been fighting to survive, but why?

"Come on," he says, not wanting to burden his sister with his morbid thoughts, taking her hand and leading her down the hall and towards their guest rooms. "We shouldn't linger in these halls; we don't know who will come by here."

~~~

"Perhaps I don't fully understand what it would be like," Turgon admits, "but I've seen enough. And as much as I don't want to be on the receiving end of his wrath, even less do I want to be separated from you. Besides, Father is wrong. You have not deserved to lose your place in our family."

Aredhel nods, continuing to hold him in an embrace, seeing what it means to him. "And even if Father forces us to separate, he can never take away the love and connection we will always have with you."

~~~

"I will, but later," Fëanor promises her. "Now is not the most appropriate time."

He smiles and even laughs a little as Finwë describes how Amrod was debating with him. "That does indeed sound like the old Amrod! I am glad to hear this. Hopefully he shall rest well and be back to himself soon. Thank you again for watching over him, Father. It... it means a great deal to me."

His face grows grave again and he sighs deeply. "Father, I am sorry to say this, but I feel we must leave tomorrow, if possible. Things are not well between myself and Nolofinwë, nor with my children."

He feels guilty saying this. Finwë worked so hard to arrange this meeting to attempt to create peace between the two Houses, but it has failed so miserably.
 
Fingon clenches his eyes shut, savoring each moment of this time with his siblings. He loves them all so much, and hopes that nothing gets worse. "Thank you, both of you..." He says, holding back tears. "I love you so much." And he falls ever deeper into the embrace with his sister, almost forgetting everything about his current situation.

Fingolfin, now even more grieved for losing his brother, turns around and glances in shock to see Aredhel and Turgon with their brother!

"What are you doing?!" He exclaims, rushing forward. "Findekano, you are not to see any of them. I ordered you not to see any of them! What have you to say?"

Fingon's face goes pale, and he inches back, crawling towards the wall, praying he can hide away. Nolofinwe then seizes him, pulling him away from his siblings and facing him, anger burning in his eyes, fueled by the sadness that this evening has etched into him.

~~~

"I see, love." Nerdanel whispers, "I understand."

Finwe smiles, grateful to see his son again. It has been a long time, after all, and he was beginning to grow more concerned. But still, he remained with Amrod as he promised. "Yes..." He chuckles. "Your son is very analytical. He's smart... Sometimes a bit too much so." He nods. "Of course, son. Your children are as much my interest as you yourself are."

But his eyes go dark, and his face deepens with concern as Feanor goes on. "I am saddened to hear this, son. What has come to pass? Is all at peace? I understand your need to leave, and though it grieves me to have you go so soon, I am glad that you have found what will best serve your family and their needs. You are a very noble one, to place their needs above your own desires." He sighs. "Tell me if you desire to, what all has come upon you that has caused this? For I trust your heart to do what is best, and yet if you should desire my counsel, I should desire to offer it."
 
I heave a sigh.

"Ah, yes. Perhaps we should. I cannot stand it any longer...this grief, this sorrow..."

I add under my breath, shaking my head:

"Mandos, just let me fade already, or else leastways aid me."
 
Maitimo has conflicted feelings about all this. Instinctively, he's horrified at the thought of his sister fading and yearns to do everything he can to stop it, but on the other hand, if it's what she wants... well, he understand now what that's like. At least they would go to Mandos together.

He's not sure that their fëar really are in such a bad state that fading is a danger to them, but he is too numb to care much.

They arrive in a guest room, and Maitimo is hesitant to leave Ancalirë alone. But he's so exhausted from the day's sorrows that he basically collapses onto a couch, and it isn't long before he falls asleep.

~~~

"We love you too," Turgon tells him, and joins in on the embrace. But his timing couldn't be worse, because mere seconds later, the voice of Fingolfin makes them all jump.

Immediately, Turgon jumps to his brother's defense. "Do not cast the blame on him, Father. I am the one who came to him, and he warned me against it, but I insisted. Because... this is wrong, Father, can't you see that?"

He shakes his head in dismay, and Aredhel remains pale and silent.

~~~

"I am proud to have such a clever son. I only wish he had not done this to himself..." Fëanor says with a heavy sigh.

Deciding that this is as good a time as any to tell both him and Nerdanel what transpired, he begins to explain. "We were off looking for Nelyo, since he had disappeared. We found him outside by the fountain, in rather a dismal state as he had been earlier in the forest. What has come over that boy, I have no idea... he seems unable to tolerate the slightest word of negativity. But anyway, much to my alarm, Findekano was there also. I have good reason to believe he was stirring up Nelyo's heart against me.

"We began to argue, but then I realized I should offer him a chance to repent of his words at dinner, and to apologize properly. And... he did not. To his credit, he made an attempt, but it was clear his heart was not in it, and his so-called apology was riddled with backhanded insults and admitted insincerity."

He pauses, trying to judge how Finwë is reacting so far.
 
I give a soft smile at seeing Maitimo fall asleep. Walking towards the window, I pull the curtains apart, gazing upon the night sky illuminated in starlight.

At least he shall be free from his sorrows, if only for a short while. Unlike myself, still lingering, and yet lingering here I....nay, I cannot even tell. Why must it be like this? All of this....it is too much to bear, is it not? Why do I still stand here, why does this agony still assail me, why must the fell hand of Time sunder me from-

But the Light of the Two Trees in the far distance catches my eye, almost accidentally it seems, as I avert my gaze in their direction. Their silver and golden lights, interwoven, mingled together....

Is it so, that within this beauty of nature, that there is still peace and serenity? Telperion, Laurelin, you remind me of something I once had, yet now have lost. Though seeing the two of you...your light, this calmness....it is what I most needed upon these moments. Although the thought that you may fade....alas, this saddens me all over again! Why must these sorrowful concepts assail me over and over like this, so relentlessly? O, Valar, when shall they end?

Fell hand of Time; pray tell, make this not to be!


I give one final glance towards the Trees before I pull the curtains together, and lie down upon a soft couch opposite Maitimo's.

It is not long before the void of slumber overtakes me.​
 
Fingolfin whips around to face Turgon. "You did what?!" It is really very troubling to him that his children seem to have completely ignored what he ordered them not to do. Apparently, he hasn't been harsh enough on his sons. Still, it is possible that Turgon is merely taking the blame unjustly, like a selfless sacrifice, paid to save his brother from shame. So, Fingolfin turns and questions Findekano.

"Tell me, Fingon- is this true?"

Findekano makes no movement or sound. How could he? In his mind, he isn't sure what would be worse. Saying the truth, that Turgon did in fact come forward, or telling a lie, that Fingon had desired it, or some other version. So, he simply remains silent, hoping that his absence of an answer will serve as a sufficient one.

"Answer me!" Fingolfin screams, angered at being ignored once again.

So, apparently that was not answer enough. But Findekano gives no answer. Nothing has changed, after all. Why would he respond now but not then?

Then, Fingolfin, even more deeply enraged and sorrowful, pulls his son forward, leading him out of the garden and into the hall, expecting fully that Turgon and Aredhel will follow. And he turns in the hallway, pushing his son against the wall.

"Aredhel, Turgon, Findekano," He calls out, naming each of them. "For your deeds this night, each of you deserve great punishment. And yet, your brother, being the eldest, will take the fall for you." With that, he reaches into his satchel and produces from it a small piece of rope, frayed on one end.

"So that you may know that I did not desire to do this, but rather had no choice..." His eyes narrow. "I will prove to you that my discipline is real and not false." It seems that his sons and daughter completely doubt that anything he is saying is serious. He hopes that he can prove that he is indeed very serious about discipline and that his orders are not a joke.

"Turgon, may you know that this was your doing." And with that, he takes the rope, cracking it like a whip in front of all of them and then proceeding to strike Fingon with it twice, to which he recoils and shouts.

"Perhaps you have learned your lesson? Repent now or you may need to face the same."

~~~

"You are right to be proud." Finwe says broadly. "He is a fine son indeed, and I do hope that we have been able to heal whatever wounds made him do this."

To Feanor's second comment, he pauses, attentively taking it all in. What Feanor is saying about Maitimo worries him. After all, Maitimo seemed very distraught when Finwe had first found him, and now, to hear that he has gone back down that road, it's nothing short of frightening. "Is Maitimo alright, then?" He asks, trying to keep a calm and gentle and peaceful demeanor, but genuinely concerned for the health of his grandson. "I commend you for your mercy to your nephew," He adds, sensing the stress that it must have caused Feanor to do such a thing. He did not lightly drop grudges. "You were very noble and good to do it."

Nerdanel sighs. "I've been meaning to ask you about something, love." She can no longer hold back the discussion topic of Fingon, and wants to ask Feanor how to separate Maitimo from him.
 
Both Turgon and Aredhel give a cry of alarm as their father does this, their faces white with horror. Just as Turgon had told Fingon earlier that he no longer recognized him... well, that has changed, and now he does not recognize his own father, and Aredhel doesn't either.

If Turgon had any choice in the matter, he would gladly take whatever wrath or beating Fingolfin has in store if it meant that Fingon and Aredhel would be unharmed. He is tall and strong, after all, even taller than Maitimo, which is saying something. He knows he would be able to take the brunt of Fingolfin's wrath. But... somehow, he gets the feeling that Fingolfin knows this. That Turgon would rather take this sort of punishment himself than to see it inflicted on his brother, especially if it was his own actions that led to it.

So he falls to his knees, his hands thrust out in a gesture of surrender, and cries out, "Please, stop hurting him! I repent... I will no longer disobey you, Father."

Of course, he does not really repent of trying to comfort Fingon earlier. But Turgon realizes that if he continues to resist Fingolfin's stubborn will, only Fingon will pay the price.

Aredhel realizes this also, but she is too racked with sobs to speak. For so many years, she had thought her father was better than Fëanaro-- more merciful and kind and levelheaded. Now, he seems to be acting with more cruelty even than her uncle ever would.

~~~

Fëanor sighs in response to Finwë's question about Maitimo. "I thought he was fine, that enough time had passed since the incidents with his brothers that he had gotten over it. But tonight he has seemed far too sensitive and fragile to every little thing. You saw yourself earlier the way he argued with my command and fled in a fury. He even collapsed outside as we had our conflict with the Nolofinwians, and his sister did not long after. He has always been an influence on her, so I can only guess she was feeding off his distress. I am beginning to think that I have been too soft on Maitimo following these incidents, and not taught him to be resilient. I think I need to teach him with a firmer hand from now on."

He smiles a little at Finwë's praise for his conduct, and continues explaining the story: "Findekano and I argued for a while, and then his father arrived on the scene and overheard what we were saying. He has been very displeased with his son, and it is my understanding that he even struck him in the face for his insolence. So Fingon was begging me for mercy and to accept his apology, sorry an attempt as it was. At first I resisted, but I couldn't help but pity him a little based on how his father treated him. So I decided to do my part to stop the conflict, and I forgave him, but I also made the choice that we will not see the House of Nolofinwë for the time being. Maitimo has been far too reactive to everything they've said and done, and then with Amrod doing what he did... there's far too much conflict, and it will not stop. Indeed, they continued to argue even as I concluded my words and left them, so I feel this was the right choice."

Fëanor hopes Finwë will not judge him too severely for his choices. It is only for his sake, after all, that Fëanaro has ever tolerated Nolofinwë and Arafinwë, despite his lack of love for them. Hopefully Finwë will understand that it was not out of pettiness or personal offense that Fëanor did this, but out of desire to protect his own family.

Nerdanel looks throughout all this time like she's been yearning to speak, and then she finally does. "Of course, love. Ask what you will," he tells her.
 
Fingolfin gives a nod, pulling the rope back and ceasing his violence immediately, leaving Fingon standing by the wall alone, streaked with marks from the rope. He didn't want to do this to his children. But Fingon was falling so far from the perfection that he ought to have achieved, and seemed to be leading his siblings along with him. Indeed, it almost brought tears to Nolofinwe's eyes, to harshly treat his own family like this, and he decides to turn away, perhaps seeking some solace with Indis, or with Finwe or Anaire would bring him some comfort, some ease and some approval that this was indeed the right choice.

"Good, Turgon." He says, his voice thin. "I am very thankful, I only wish that you could have learned in a simple way, without," He gestures. "All of this."

And as he finishes, he walks away, having nothing more to say to his children, and desiring a bit of peace away from all of this. And he walks upwards, seeking half-heartedly Indis or Finwe. His parents had always brought him comfort, and he desires to find them.

Fingon sinks to the floor, feeling both disheartened and abandoned. A new thought arises in his heart. And it's all on one thing. Maitimo. His closest friend for years. They did so many things together. And he wonders, is there a way he could see Maitimo despite what Feanor said? Or perhaps, more likely and safer, could he simply leave a letter? Something, anything, to part on a better note than they had.

~~~

Finwe holds up a hand to slow Feanor's speech, a very uncommon thing for him to do. "Pardon, my son... But, did you just say that you think he would be 'over it'?" He gives a glance downward. "Son, he is young. His heart is still soft, like clay or glass in the making. Everything that comes upon him or interacts with him, could and very well might leave an imprint in himself." He listens on, attentively. Mulling over every word that Feanor says, and trying to understand where all of this might be coming from, both in Maitimo and in Feanor. Finally, he heaves a great sigh, and begins. "See, I hear you, and I know that you want to use firmer guidance. Like all good fathers, you do not want your son to become soft. In fact, soft would be your greatest fear for him, mm?" He nods. "But, soft is what his heart is. And you don't want to stop that. See, I know it is difficult to understand, and believe me, I struggled with it myself in the raising of you each. But it is not softness that you want to hinder. It is blind receptivity." He gauges Feanor's reaction before going on. "Understand Curufinwe, that you son is young and takes in everything that he can sense and feel and know. Now, normally, that is fine. Children don't have much to burden them. But since Maitimo does have things, I recommend this. Instead of forcing regiments onto him, gently guide his hand. Teach him what to be receptive of, what to absorb, and what not to. Pay close attention to what he internalizes. See, he has already had so much pain, and that could already be building walls in his heart and forging deep wounds. By being the father to your son, and earning his trust," He pauses. "Much as you and I both know that you already deserve it, will show him that he can come to you with anything. And when a son is fully receptive and transparent with his father, and a father is loving and aware of his son, that is when healing and peace and protection and safety can all begin to flourish."

Listening, however, to the rest of the story, his face darkens. "Again, I commend your strength and understand your motives." He says after a moment. Hearing that the two Houses seem to be splitting is rather troublesome for him. How many years he had spent trying to get his sons to get along. From these elaborate feasts to personal conversations with each of them, and nothing seemed to serve well. And now, there seemed to have been relative peace. Perhaps conflict still happened, but sheltered. And he is grieved to hear that peace will reign no more. But, much as he is deeply saddened by it, he merely sighs and admits, "That is a shame, truly. I will be saddened to see you two stray." But that is all that he will mention, for he is full aware that Feanor seems very much troubled about it all, and laying more on his son's heart would simply be cruel. He pales a little, too at the mention of Fingolfin's actions of discipline, and inwardly he considers that a meeting with Nolofinwe might be wise. "You will both still also come for feasts and for our time as a family, will not you?"

Nerdanel sighs, glad to finally have a chance to speak. "Ah, yes... Thank you, love. See, it's Fingon. I don't know how to say this without it sounding blunt, but the friendship between him and Maitimo needs to end, and swiftly so. Have you any advice, on how I can convince Nelyo out of those foolish desires? I know it is childish and that it will ultimately lead to his end, but he wouldn't listen."
 
Whilst both Maitimo and Ancalirë lie in slumber, a vision comes to both of them.

It is one of peace and serenity, for the Light of the Two Trees shine in their most beautiful glory, silver and golden light intermingled and spreading outward across all of Valinórë. Fëanáro is there, accompanied by Ancalírë, Maitimo, Maglor and Amrod. They sit close together, expressions of joy and laughter woven upon their faces, seemingly discussing many things. Ancalírë sits beside Fëanor, and Maitimo beside Ancalírë, Amrod on the other side of Fëanáro whilst Maglor sits between them.

Stars twinkle in the night sky, and all is at peace.

The leaves sway, and light abounds.

No fear nor despair is in their hearts; only joy, peace and gladness.


I stir, rising a little, and I notice Maitimo beginning to stir also. I walk towards him silently, my eyes glimmering with a strange mixture of hope and bewilderment, hoping to tell him what I had just seen.​
 
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For a while, Maitimo manages to forget all about his heavy sorrows, forgetting everything that had happened this day, and fully immersed in the vivid and calming dreamscape. He forgets that this is not reality, and loses himself in the scene, though he is vaguely aware that not all his family is here, nor is Fingon. But despite all that, he feels a greater joy and contentedness here than he has in a long, long time... he can't even remember the last time he felt this free of sorrow. Fëanor is kind, Amrod is well, Maglor is playing his music, and Ancalirë seems just as joyous and peaceful as Maitimo now feels.

But all too swiftly, the vision fades, and a heaviness returns to his heart as the memories of real life creep back in to his mind. But at the same time, the sorrow doesn't feel as crushing as before. The scene he saw does not seem too far-fetched to be plausible; perhaps it can become reality again someday. Though it troubles him that Fingon was not present in that happy scene, and neither was Nerdanel. Maitimo may be angry with her right now, and deeply so, but that doesn't mean he hates her or does not wish their conflict to be resolved.

Stirring fully awake, he sees that Ancalirë is nearby, watching him. And the light of the Trees outside is still dim; he apparently had not slept long.

"I had an interesting dream," he tells her. "It was so calm, peaceful... like nothing I've ever felt since, well, since before the twins first attacked me, I suppose."

~~~

Turgon nods quietly, and helps Aredhel stand, and they quietly depart, not daring to speak a word to Fingon. But Turgon glances tearfully at him before they leave, attempting to communicate much with that gaze, and he only hopes Fingon will pick up on his meaning. A thousand words would be insufficient to communicate the magnitude of his grief, his bitter regret at not better protecting his brother from all this. But he does not risk anything more than a meaningful look, for Fingon's sake, and he and Aredhel quietly depart.

~~~

Indis is wandering the halls, having recently sent Anairë and Argon to a guest room, and looking for her husband. He seems to have been gone a while, which worries her, given all the tension and conflict this evening.

She spots her eldest son, Nolofinwë, wandering alone in the halls, and she immediately reads the distress and the tears in his eyes.

"Come here, my son," she says gently, moved to pity for him. "What ails you?"

~~~

Fëanor listens to the words of his father, turning them over in his mind, and feeling conflicted by them. It makes sense that Finwë would not see Maitimo's sensitivity as a flaw to be overcome, but from Fëanor's perspective, it is not just a flaw, but a danger which will only cause his son's heart to be hurt even more.

"I understand what you are saying," he says to Finwë, "but I can't allow him to continue to live this way. There needs to come a point, sooner rather than later, when he can hear words that are distressing to him and not crumble under it. His softness is a danger to him, and I wonder if it is what caused him to be vulnerable to his brothers' attacks in the first place, and I fear it could endanger him again."

But as he thinks a little more carefully about what Finwë said, he realizes there may not be much actual disagreement between them. After all, getting Maitimo to stop internalizing everything is exactly what Fëanor wants. If he stops taking everything so personally, he will spring back more quickly and strongly from these trials.

"How, then, do you recommend going about doing this?" Fëanor asks, sincerely seeking after Finwë's advice. "My words can do very little. I cannot simply command him to stop taking every bad thing and letting it get to his heart. I do not know how to do this."

He is grateful that Finwë is not condemning him for how he handled Nolofinwë, but there still seems to be disappointment in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Father. I had hoped it would not come to this, and I tried my best to prevent it," he says with a sigh. "But I felt I had no choice, given the troubles with my children. Perhaps someday, after everything has settled down, our Houses may come together again. And of course I will not forsake your House, either. I have always benefitted from your teachings, and perhaps my children can too."

When Nerdanel asks her question, Fëanor is almost a little confused by it. "Why are you concerned about Nelyo and Findekano still?" he asks her. "Our Houses are not to see each other for a while yet. I'm sure this will upset Nelyo for a while, but he won't have any choice about it, and I expect he will get over it eventually. Besides, I'm not as concerned with however Nelyo feels about Findekano in his heart, as I am about removing his external influence from him. Once they have been separated for a while, I believe the influence Findekano has had over time will begin to fade, though it may take some time."
 
I raise an eyebrow.

"It seems like we might have had a similar experience. Tell me more."

I am ever one to keep my thoughts concealed, and I am reluctant to reveal much in the first place. Thus, I await for him to speak, to hear of what he has seen.
 
Fingon glances back at Turgon, barely able to hold back tears as he does so. He can feel the love of his brother's heart in that glance alone, and immediately is moved to feelings of guilt for it. This whole evening has been the biggest disaster of all time, and he knows he's totally to blame for it. If he had just shut up for one second, sucked up his anger and pride and moved on with an apology, everything would be fine. No one would've been hurt or screamed at, no one would have to make tough choices or have broken hearts. He thinks of all the messes he's made. Even the ordeal with Amrod was probably my fault, He muses. I should have just left when I had the chance. But, there was no use wishing. Nothing could be turned back. Everything in the past was now passed. There was no way out of this.

He thinks of Maitimo, how he fainted and he didn't even flinch a muscle to save him. And how he was in deep emotional and mental pain and Fingon could sense it, but said nothing. "What a terrible friend I've been..." He mutters, feeling even lower than before. "Nay, what a terrible everything I've been, and to everyone..." He shuts his eyes, feeling tears streak his face. He realizes now his mistake. He was acting selfish. Incredibly selfish, is the truth. And he was blind to any goodness in Feanor, even though Feanor was the one to save him. His head hangs low, and he thinks to himself,

I have to make this right. And with that thought in mind, he quietly slips down the hallways and into a study, grabbing for himself some parchment paper and ink, and beginning to write a letter to his closest friend, though the ink was admittedly very splotched, due to his trembling hands. He only hopes it is legible.

~~~

Fingolfin walks forward, taking her hand. "Mother," He sighs. "It is everything." And then, against his expectation, a torrent of words seems to flow out of him. "Feanaro, my brother- he-he decided to sever the bonds between our Houses. He cut the ties, you might say, and he is leaving and he won't be in connection with us any longer. And all of that, why it was all my eldest son's fault. You saw his outburst earlier, and I can tell you that such insolence only went on longer. And so I disciplined him. I struck him, I screamed, I whipped, I did all that I could, but now I do not know if I have done the right thing, for all of my children seem to face me with fear in their eyes and terror that I will hurt them- but I never meant it-" He sighs. "I am sorry to lay all this upon you, Amme. I am rambling as would a child. Your pardon I beg."

~~~

"Of course, you can't continue to let him live this way. As a good father, you see that internalizing everything is truly detrimental to him." Finwe nods. "But even as a father, as good a father as you are, you cannot see all ends. Do not misread me, I am fully intent upon getting him out of this vicious cycle of being deeply distressed." He sighs. "But be patient with him, and gently lead his hand. Anger will only choke, and harsh words will break his trust in you."

Finwe hopes that Feanor has been aware of these things before he had said them, since if this comes as a surprise to his son, Maitimo may already have endured long-term effects and developed fears of his father, and ideas of conditional love. "See, son... How would you want to be loved, tell me? Would you like me to reward you and treat you well and embrace you and show you love and care when you have done good? What about when you have failed? When you have disobeyed me, or when you used to argue with me... Would you have not wanted love? See, you must teach Maitimo that love from his father is not conditioned. That no matter whether he is bad or good, or distressed or peaceful, or joyous or miserable, your love for him will never change, and nothing can decrease it."

Finwe pinches the bridge of his chin, thinking. Feanor's question was a good one. It seems he is truly desiring to learn and see how he can be the best father, and Finwe only wants to give him the best advice, for the sake of both his son and his grandson, both of whom he is confident will become great leaders and go down in legends for all of history.

"Hmm..." He raises one finger in the air. "A very good question indeed..." He sighs, his eyes fixed on a place on the wall, only now realizing that Maglor was still in the room. "I suppose I would say, you need to see his heart, mm? To earn his trust, although you already merit it simply based on who you are. But show him that you, respect him, and believe him, and believe in him. And if you do that, he may be more willing to listen to you. And your words will do much good, and not only that, Maitimo will turn over to you all of his joys and pains, and he will seek counsel from you, and seek shelter under your protection." He muses on. "See, because I think Maitimo has become somewhat afraid or wary of you, mainly because you told me that he has tried to escape and he sounds very much in distress, but you don't know why. That tells me that your son is confiding in something else or someone else than his own father. And all you would need to do is earn back his trust and respect. I have no doubt he wants to give it you. You are a very noble Eldar, and so is your son."

To Feanor's words about Nolofinwe's House, he only nods. Truthfully, it does grieve him that they will be separated, but he understands Feanor's decision and doesn't want to question it. "Perhaps." Is all he says, in response to Feanor's remark that his children might learn from Finwe also.

Nerdanel sighs. "Because Maitimo is still attached to Findekano. He was defending him and condemning me, verbally earlier this night. I fear that Fingon's influence has been bad, very bad for our son, and now that there is this conflict between them," She extends her hands. "Well, it's a perfect opportunity for us to shatter that bond, and crush it in a way it will never reform. I'm afraid that Nelyo won't just forget about it. He didn't before, and I don't think he will now." She lays a hand on Feanor's shoulder, leaning in with a whisper, so only he could hear. "I think that Fingon is trying to weaken Maitimo intentionally, to try and take away his strength as a leader, and make him a poor ruler. And it's working. Our Nelyo has never been such a weakling in heart and mind. I'm all for peacefulness, but he's acting too fragile, like he could shatter any second. And I've seen all that's happened with Fingon. I think he's planned it this way." This was, of course, a horrible rumor, but in her mind it seemed really plausible, and once again, it pinned the blame on someone else than her House.
 
"We were back home," Maitimo explains. "You and I, and Father and Maglor and Amrod. We were just... gathered around outside, and we were just talking. It was simple, but so lifelike that it was enough to make me forget about everything for a while."

He studies Fëanoriel, trying to judge her reaction. And he wonders what the meaning of all this is. The dream cheered him up temporarily, but now he is sorrowful again, thinking about how far it is from reality.

~~~

"Oh, my son... I'm so sorry," Indis says softly, holding him in a tight embrace. Though she doesn't know all the details of what happened, she sheds a few tears of her own, moved by his distress. If she were more proud and less compassionate, she would have immediately jumped to saying "I told you so" about Fëanaro. He had an unloving heart and was not to be trusted, and she only wished Nolofinwë had not found this out the hard way.

Further, she is alarmed by what she hears when he talks of how he punished his children. This seems so harsh, and totally unlike him, since he has always been so gentle and patient with his own children.

She tries to think of how Finwë would approach this, since he has such a gift of delivering advice and even criticism without making it feel like a personal attack. Though she has never quite possessed the same skill as him in that way, what she shares with Finwë is care and compassion for her son, matched with a desire to point him in the right direction.

"I know you have always longed for the affection of Curufinwë, and it pains me that he has not returned your love for him," she says after a long moment. "And I remember you telling me how eager you were for this day to come, and for there to finally be peace between your family and his, and now it is all ruined... It is a brutal and harsh reality, is it not? I can imagine you wished to make your son understand how brutal and harsh a reality it is, too. You have always been such a peaceful one, yearning so deeply for our family to be free of strife, and that is to be commended. Yet to show such harsh punishment to your children, that cannot heal your hurt but only redirect it somewhere else."

~~~

Fëanor isn't sure if Finwë was actually looking for a response with his rhetorical question, but regardless, Fëanor has a thought about it, and speaks: "But discipline and correction is love, Father. It would not be loving if I were in the wrong and you were to let me run around unchecked, and let me go around blind to my own wrongdoings. Of course I love Nelyo whether he is joyful or despairing, weak or strong. But I must teach him, somehow, to become more resilient, and if I were to not do it, it would be unloving. But he may take things personally as he so often does, and maybe even think I am being cruel. He... he does not understand my ways, that in trying to make him better I am trying to show him my love."

The next words of Finwë, though, make him shift uncomfortably, at his implications that Nelyo is going to someone else to confide in, and that he is afraid of Fëanor and does not think he loves him unconditionally. So, even though Finwë delivers this message with kindness, Fëanor initially reacts defensively to it. "Why should I have to earn his trust and respect? I am his father! There is no reason why he shouldn't know that I love him unconditionally and that he can trust me." Realizing the harshness of his words, he takes a deep breath and tries to soften them. "I'm sorry, Father. It's just... he ought to know these things."

Truthfully, it upsets him more than he can describe to think that Maitimo feels unloved by Fëanor and distrusts him.

When Nerdanel explains her theory, Fëanor can't help but be somewhat surprised by it, and skeptical of it. "That would be a very cunning and scheming thing for Findekano to do," he says doubtfully. "And truth be told, he does not really strike me as the politically ambitious and scheming type. He strikes me as impulsive, and somewhat hotheaded, though I will admit, I do not know him well enough to truly make that judgment." But at the same time, her words still cause him some worry. Is it possible that regardless of Findekano's motives, his negative influence will still linger on even after he and Maitimo are separated? There does seem to be a connection between Maitimo's downward spiral and his time spent with Findekano; Fëanor can't deny that at all.
 

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