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theelvenhaven · 2 years ago

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Breakfast Reveals

Little Vanifinwe x Family

2.4k Words

Anelya - My Daughter

Make You Pretty | Enhanced Beauty | Breakfast Reveals

Unexpected Farewell | Unexpected Gift | Pretty Negotiators

Finally Ensnared | Overreactions

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Vanifinwë continued to giggle out as Tyelkormo held her, walking proudly to the dining room. Getting snorts and wide grins from all the maids and servants that they passed by who caught a glimpse of Tyelkormo’s green and red makeup and all the noisy pearls he wore. His head was held high and he simply shot out smiles to those who laughed, because to his sister he was indeed the most beautifullest elf ever. It was only her opinion that mattered.

For now at least. The smell of breakfast met his nose before he heard Vanifinwë’s little stomach begin to growl.

“I’m hungry hanyo.” She complained with a frown on her lips, and Tyelkormo huffed out in amusement.

“Perhaps next time, breakfast first and then beauty parlor.” Tyelkormo said, for once giving sound and reasonable advice to someone in the family. Even if it were just his baby sister, usually giving her advice to break all the rules- to which she never did.

Tyelkormo opened the door to find their Amme and Atya down at the head of the table, and Nerdanel sitting to his right. Both were distracted in conversation with one another and before Tyelkormo could say anything in greeting- with his brothers trailing in behind him- Vanifinwë began to wriggle in his hold to get down.

“Put me down please!” She said trying to use her manners in an impatient and almost whiny voice, and so Tyelkormo did just that. Setting the little elfling down who went bounding across the room at full speed to their Atya’s side.

“Good morning Atya!” She said in a chipper voice as she arrived just at his side, looking up at him with big blue eyes.

“Can I sit with you please Atya?” Little Vanifinwë asked holding out her arms for him to pick her up, and Fëanaro turned his head to look down at his daughter. A soft smile pulled at his lips before he scooted his chair out and reached down to pick her up plopping her in his lap.

“Good morn anelya.” Fëanaro shot back, kissing the top of her head and wrapping an arm around her waist as she sat on his knee. Collectively her plate was passed down the long table before it got to Maedhros for him to hand to Fëanaro, who moved his plate more towards Nerdanel to make room for Vanifinwë’s food.

There was a collective sound of snorting and giggling from those in the room, all eyes but Fëanaro’s were falling onto Tyelkormo and Makalaurë. Tyelkormo simply humphed as he turned his nose up at his brother’s snickering, while Makalaurë simply took in stride having known that his makeover was going to elicit such a reaction. Though it was nothing compared to Tyelkormo’s bold smeared green and red look.

Nerdanel paused in her eating to look at her third eldest, blinking quietly and she only watched as he turned to look at her. Flashing her a smile, making Nerdanel begin to choke some on her food. Prompting Fëanaro to look at his wife, while Vanifinwë began to eat the food on her plate, happily swinging her feet.

“Arimelda? Are you alright?” He asked with concern, furrowing his brows as he watched her, his hand dropping his fork to bring it to her shoulder. Leaning over in her direction, while Nerdanel nodded doing her best to clear her throat as she went for the goblet of water that was jus next to her plate.

“Amme you okay?” Vanifinwë piped up, before putting a piece of toast in her mouth. Nerdanel nodded at their concern as she took generous swallows of food to dislodge the food she was choking on. Successful before clearing her throat and setting the goblet down on the table again.

“I am alright, but Vani, what have you been doing this morning?” Nerdanel asked, raising her russet brows and she watched her daughter hurriedly chew before swallowing. The little elfling looked to her Amme with a big and wide smile,

“Playing beauty parlor with Makalaurë!” She exclaimed happily, and for a moment Tyelkormo frowned opening his mouth to say something, but Nerdanel raised her hand to stop him. Her head turned to look at Makalaurë sitting there with his knotted bun sitting on top of his head and the dark blue glittery eyeshadow that was around his eyes.

“Just with Makalaurë?” She asked and Vanifinwë began to shake her head now, sending black little curls flouncing about. Fëanaro having to lean back so he didn’t get hit in the face by them, and when she stopped, he began to tuck her hair behind her little pointed ears.

“Then with who else, anelya?” Fëanaro asked, seeing as he hadn’t had the opportunity to have looked down the table at his sons. Too engrossed in eating his meal, sitting with Vanifinwë and chatting with Nerdanel.

“Tyelko too! I made him the most beautifullest elf ever Amme and Atya!” She beamed so proudly and Nerdanel smiled, chuckling at the excitement that encapsulated her. Nerdanel knew very well that was a game Tyelkormo never tried to get involved in. Considering he hated frilly and girly things, though like the rest of his brothers, she knew he was a sucker for her.

“Mhmm I can see that you did.” Nerdanel said, her eyes falling right down on her little hands. Fëanaro eyes followed his wifes, and now had noticed how her hands were covered in green and red smears. He frowned pausing to reach for his napkin to wipe off her hands,

“One of you should’ve made sure her hands were washed before she came to the table.” Fëanaro sighed out in disapproval, sometimes it was like he raised animals who forgot to wash hands and not bring muddy boots and the like into the clean eating area. Now they were subjecting Vanifinwë to having the same poor table manners too. Taking the napkin and her little hands to wipe them down.

“That is not the only thing they should’ve made sure they washed.” Curufinwë snorted out behind his goblet, raising his eyebrows. His sharp eyes cutting over to Tyelkormo who only made a face in return to what he had to say,

“Tsk, says you.” Tyelkormo argued, not particularly in the mood for Curvo’s snark today. Usually the two were on one another’s side, but not with the mess all over Tyelkormo’s face. Fëanaro sighed, feeling how an argument was set to start if he didn’t intervene. He knew just how brutal they could be against one another, and he’d be damned if they did in front of Vanifinwë.

She was still recovering from when Carnistir punched Tyelko in the nose. Just now reaching a point where she could be around him again without crying or running away from him in fear. He didn’t need to add Tyelkormo and Curufinwë to the habilitation list for Vanifinwë.

“Stop, we are not going to-” Fëanaro’s eyes flashed up from his task of wiping the stubborn smears off of Vanifinwë’s hands, looking to Tyelkormo before he looked back down. But he paused before doing a double take to look at his son in bewilderment, their eyes locking before Tyelkormo flashed a big grin.

Fëanaro blinked for a moment not sure what to say or do, what in Eru’s name happened to his son? What the fuck was he wearing?

“My son, what the he-” Nerdanel elbowed him, stopping him from finishing that sentence so aggressively, but Tyelkormo only kept his smile. “What are you wearing?” He finished winding his arm a little more snug around his daughter. Who began to gasp out with excitement,

“I am the most beautifullest ever, Atya.” Tyelkormo said with pride, throwing some of his long platinum hair right over his shoulder. Fëanaro furrowed his brows, curling his lips in and narrowing his eyes as he tried to discern what had gotten into his son.

Face and body paints were certainly a thing for Tyelkormo, often wearing them when he went galavanting off with Orome. To which Fëanaro had never said anything after some time seeing as that was just part of hunting with Orome. But his son was wearing makeup. And to make matters worse it looked terrible.

Bright red lipstick was smeared all up his cheek, under his nose and down his chin. With green eyeshadow smeared all over his face. It wasn’t even all on his eyelids, nor the stuff on his eyelids fully covered his lid, and if he looked hard enough… Fëanaro could see some of it in his hair. Not to mention the bright blush that covered his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, and it was caked on there good. For the love of Eru…

“You are… something.” Fëanaro muttered before his eyes went to Makalaurë, recalling how Vanifinwë said she played with both of them. Though Makalaurë didn’t look nearly as… bold just a “simple” eyeshadow look on his eyes with a bun on his head. That looked tangled painfully tight. It was a wonder it wasn’t pulling his eyes and brows back.

“Aren’t they beautiful Atya!?” Vanifinwë said excitedly leaning her head back to look up at her father with a big beaming grin. Fëanaro looked down for a moment at her, and he could see how important to her his opinion would be. Especially regarding this… He had never been one to discourage them from their creative endeavors.

“You did that all by yourself Vani?” He asked, raising his eyebrows, completely avoiding her question and feeling her shift to turn sideways in his lap. Her head craned back to look up at him.

“I did!” She grinned excitedly, and Fëanaro hummed out still shocked that his little girl could well… do so much damage. But both of his sons seemed to take it in stride, Tyelkormo perhaps wearing it a little too proudly…

“Tell me about Tyelkormo’s dress up.” He pressed,

“Makeover Atya.” Vanifinwë corrected, nothing short of a little attitude in her correction, making Fëanaro snort in amusement. He usually wasn’t one to tolerate such an attitude, no matter how small, but considering she was the expert on the situation… He’d let it slide for now.

“Forgive me, anelya. Makeover, tell me about Tyelkormo’s makeover.” Fëanaro watched the way her face began to light up, the big grin that pulled at her little lips, the way her big blue eyes sparkled with joy. He could certainly see how her big brothers gave into her whims, including this one regarding makeup and makeovers.

“Tyelko I thought would looks really pretty with eyes shadows, green is a pretty color on him.” She rambled to him, “And then he needed a lickstips that would match and make him even prettier.” Fëanaro hummed at her words, nodding along as he began to pick back at his breakfast again.

“And oh! He needed blushes and lots and lots of pretty pearls. And it made him the most beautifullest elf ever!” Vanifinwë said with a higher pitched voice, speaking with her hands while Fëanaro listened, the rest of his sons chattering between one another, half paying attention to her. But Nerdanel was engrossed in what she was telling her father.

“Beautifullest elf ever?” Nerdanel asked her, and Vanifinwë nodded with certainty.

“Yes! Don’t you think so Amme and Atya?” She asked, leaving the pair to look between one another and both of them turning to look back at Tyelkormo. Who seemed to be patiently waiting for a confirmation from their parents, that what Vanifinwë said was true. Because of course it was true, and he’d start a fight with anyone who said he wasn’t.

“Yes, Vani. You did a wonderful job on making Tyelko the beautifullest elf ever.” Nerdanel agreed warmly, and with a smile. Vanifinwë only seemed to grin wider with excitement, but her Atya had not said whether or not Tyelkormo was the beautifullest elf ever. And to Vanifinwë, her Atya’s opinion was incredibly important because she knew how creative he was too.

“Atya? Don’t you think Tyelko’s the beautifullest elf ever?” She asked, her brows furrowing a bit as she had noticed this was the second time he had danced around her question about Tyelkormo’s beauty. This time she wasn’t going to let him escape it, Fëanaro paused in his chewing looking like he might flounder.

Everyone at the table began to hold their breath, as his look seemed to become stern and lost in thought. Assuming that he was trying to find a way to gently let her down. As he could do from time to time and they all feared if he did it… It would break her heart.

In all honesty? His son looked ridiculous, Fëanaro had heard of her makeovers before. But he didn’t ever see what the extent of them was, and now seeing it.. Well… Then again he supposed beauty was in the eye of the beholder. And that beholder was the fifteen year old elfling in his lap, desperately looking for his approval. Even he didn’t have the heart to give her constructive criticism.

“Vani, anelya…” He began and quietly thought for a moment, while his daughter waited on baited breath for whatever it was he might say.

“I think you made Tyelkormo, the prettiest, most beautifullest elf in all of Valinor.” Fëanaro said firmly and with conviction, there was a collective sigh of relief from around the table. Everyone had expected him to give his most honest opinion, as he did on occasions regardless of what anyone's ages had ever been.

“Really!? You think so Atya!?” Vanifinwë said with mirth and excitement, scrambling to sit up on her knees in his lap and hug him. Fëanaro smiled softly as her arms were thrown around his neck, setting his fork down he wrapped an arm around her, holding her close to him.

“Yes, anelya, I do.” Fëanaro said leaning his head against hers, feeling her little hand pat his back gently before her arms unwound from his neck. But she kept her head rested on his shoulder not moving from her spot. His eyes only went to his son in question who was positively glowing have triple the approval from Amme, Atya and Vani.

Fëanaro only shook his head at his sons reaction, listening to him begin to brag about his enhanced beauty. He could see how the res of his sons wanted to tell him otherwise but not with Vanifinwë present.

“Here anelya let us finish our breakfast hm?” He said nudging her softly and Vanifinwë nodded at his words, sliding down to sit back down in his lap. Before they both began to eat again, listening to the chatter around the table.

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theelvenhaven · 4 years ago

Text

Reunions in Arda

Part 2

Vanifinwe x Maglor

4.4k words

Warnings:

Character Death Mentions

Battle

Bad Dreams

Vanifinwe’s description of The Crossing

Nesa - q. Sister

Hanno - q. Brother

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When Failendis laid her head upon the pillow in the guest room, thoughts and concerns about what all had transpired with her brothers dissipated. Ground to a solid halt as the soft mattress cradled her tired body softly, the duvet wonderfully heavy and warm with a fire that blazed noisily in the hearth. Against this harsh winter weather, this warmth was heavenly… Failendis merely prayed she’d never had to know such freezing temperatures for so long ever again.

All the warmth and softness lulled her to sleep, something that she hadn’t indulged in, in Eru knew how long… Failendis could hardly keep her eyes open, willingly she let it embrace her, pulling her eyelids down like iron curtains. She only wiggled further down into the duvet before she stilled completely, sleeping deeply.

Nothing beyond the room could pull her from her sleep, or make her even stir. Hours ticked by, turning into a day. This prompted Makalaure to at least peek inside and check on her as the dawn of the second day came. Yet even still Failendis didn’t make a sound or even move to roll over, too exhausted to get up.

Flashes began, a grisly reminder of the Battle of Lammoth as elves fought gruesome and gnarled creatures in their crude armor and steel swords. The sounds of steel against steel clashed loudly, and the air heavy and full of wails and screeches. Pain and agony filled and stained the air in sound and emotion as the groups clashed viciously. Voices rang out commands she couldn’t follow, only recognizing Arakano’s voice and Nolofinwe’s.

Her own hands slashed at one creature with a dirk in her hand, given to her by Arakano, and kept the beast at bay before Findekano’s blade lobbed its head off into the icy floor. Quietly, the two nodded before they looked ahead. Watching as Arakano had forged a path of slain bodies, despite the swarm of grotesque beings around him.

She yelled quickly for him, which garnered for Findekano to put out his arm to keep her from going any further forward. Before, to their horror, a sword plunged within Arakano’s chest!

With a startled gasp, Failendis shot up in the bed. Sweat beads formed on her forehead, dripping down her face as she looked around the room. She tried to remember where it was she was at! Her mind still engrossed in the dream and left disoriented. The duvet fell around her. The fire in the hearth was blazing with fresh logs. Failendis released heavy pants. Relief filled her as she remembered she was in her brother’s hold… No longer in Lammoth or on the frozen and hellish ice of the Helcaraxe.

Praise Eru.

Though the wound of Arakano reopened and feeling fresh once more, it made her chest constrict tightly as the vision of losing him intrusively filled her mind. Without a second thought, Failendis pulled back the covers. She moved towards the armoire to retrieve a warm robe. Slipping into it, before hurrying from her room as Failendis’ mind busied itself by replaying the scene over and over and over.

Tears brimmed and spilled at their own volition, even as she fought against them, not ready to be so emotional over the trauma… It would merely bring up thoughts of Elenwe too. If Failendis had the capacity, she’d weep for weeks for everything that they lost, the sounds of their heartbreak audible even now in memory. How she had grown used to it while on the ice. Now there was silence, no wails or cries of heartbreak, yet it was eerie and only made her mind replace it with the memories...

She merely winced heavily as she hurried down the hallway and stairs. Failendis spoke not a word to the maids or to the few elves she passed. Visibly pained by what was on her mind as she came into the kitchens. Having retraced her steps to the dining room, and through the door, Minyarussa had come through when he fed her.

The kitchen pulled her from her thoughts; it was empty, fortunately, though embers still were in the hearth. So warmth filled the room and it wouldn’t take long to get a fire going once more to make some tea. Something to soothe her nerves, to quiet the thoughts that raced incessantly. To put at least a damper on them… Even if now she feared the thought of resting once more to meet with such terrors.

Failendis sifted through the shelves, before she found a cast-iron kettle- one even still her brothers had created something so simple with the family crest. It left her to sigh out heavily before lifting it to take to the water pump. Before she could set it down, a hand reached for it, startling her. Failendis jumped back with a yelp in surprise, looking up at the intruder with wide eyes as her heart thudded even harder in her chest!

“It’s just me, nésa.” Makalaure whispered with tenderness, going to place a hand on her shoulder to stroke and soothe her. All the while he took the teakettle from her hands, and she moved to place a hand on her chest as if it would still her heart and panic. Yet she could not meet his eyes, only moving to lean against the counter as Makalaure took over in making the boiling water for her.

He watched as his Failendis leaned over and buried her face in her hands, rubbing, visibly distressed still. An intense sight he had never truly seen from her before. Once the hearth was rekindled and the kettle placed on the hook, he came to stand next to her. Makalaure placed a hand on her back, brushing away her long starless strands over her shoulder so he could rub without tangling her fine hair to continue to placate her shot nerves.

“How long have I been asleep?” Her voice came out in a soft whisper as she peered over to him from her hands. Her expression fell to be more neutral. Makalaure heard her swallow thickly, releasing another sigh before Failendis buried her face back into the comfort of her hands. Hiding the remnants of tears that had reformed at being startled.

“Almost two full days… It is near midnight now.” Makalaure responded softly, watching as she nodded at his words. Moving to stand up straight, and rest her hands on the counter, she felt like she had to move to shake the memories off of her mind. Makalaure could easily see that something ate away at her. Failendis wasn’t exactly doing a good job at hiding it, and he hadn’t missed the glassiness of her eyes from unshed tears. Nor the yelp when he had touched her.

“Nésa, what is the matter?” He pressed with care, but Failendis just sighed out heavily. Her head shook at his words as he attempted to claw into what was ailing her. Makalaure suspected that she’d confess as it ate her alive from the looks of it, so he didn’t press any harder, just patiently waited.

“It was a dream.” She whispered, unable to help herself. Failendis needed to get it all off her chest… For someone to know. Yet there was hesitation because she wasn’t sure she could trust her brother. Even if he extended his hospitality to her. Gravely Makalaure hummed out at her words and looked down at his hands and arms.

“Of the Kinslaying?” Without hesitation, Failendis shook her head, making inky black hair move in response. Her face scrunched up, wrinkling freckles, and furrowed her brows as her lids hid her sapphire blue eyes.

“No… I stopped having such thoughts of that years ago, I suppose.” She murmured to him, her long and slender fingers twiddling in her uneasiness. Interlocking them but still moving them around her knuckles, Makalaure could only imagine what was on her mind. Something that would override the thoughts of watching pure mayhem and slaughter of innocent elves.

“What was it you dreamt of then?” He pressed with care, seeing the exhaustion that lingered within her eyes even despite the sleep she had. This was exhaustion that ran down into her fea, as physically she appeared in good health, even if she looked thinner. Surely from the lack of true sustenance… He hadn’t missed how frail she felt in his arms when they hugged in the study.

“The Crossing and our arrival plagues me now.” She breathed out to him with pain in her voice, though she tried to say it casually, not wanting to show that it affected her so strongly. Fully Failendis even expected for Makalaure to press relentlessly about how she should’ve joined them. It would’ve been the better outcome, would it not have been?

To have avoided years on ice, listening to the heartbreak, to see the frozen and lifeless elves. To have avoided the sight of when Elenwe drowned and Arakano’s slaughter, even if Arakano had sacrificed himself for the greater good. It didn’t take the pain of losing him away. It could’ve saved Atyarussa and maybe even Maitimo… But Makalaure didn’t rub it in.

“It is truthfully, hard to imagine how severe it was since I was not there. I am not here to invalidate your experience, I just struggle to picture what you all went through since I have not experienced it.” Makalaure confessed as he moved from his spot next to her to go to the kettle. A tactic to get her to open up further about her experience. His nighttime robes rustling softly with his every step, Failendis only sadly looked at her brother. Watching how he carefully fiddled with the kettle, and then turning afterward to face her, waiting patiently for her to continue.

“It was iced over and cold… Far colder than it is here. Winds constantly howled and whipped against exposed skin, I never knew it could feel so sharp… Like razors against your flesh. Or that it could steal one’s breath and for so long that you felt as though you were suffocating.” She began and her words gave Makalaure pause as he watched the far off look in her eyes as she thought on it. Her expression was more morose, certainly as she remembered her own experience of the ordeal.

“So many died Makalaure…” Failendis breathed out, which didn’t sound too unfamiliar… Many had drowned in the coming to Losgar, the ships having fallen apart in the choppy ocean waves… Freezing to death sounded just as horrid. Not to mention he was sure it came in greater numbers with them being gone for so long.

“Did you... almost pass on to the Halls, Vanie..?” He asked with care and for a long moment, only tension lingered in the air. Makalaure could not blame her if it was something that she didn’t want to share with him… He did not have the right to press this way. To pick it apart as if he and the rest of his brothers didn’t contribute to stranding her and binding her to such a cruel journey and fate. As though he didn’t hold a torch and set aflame a ship that could’ve brought her to them and saved her.

“Yes.” At this, Makalaure swallowed the lump in his throat. To know how close they came to losing her as well. He couldn’t imagine losing his nésa. An ocean’s distance was acceptable, but to lose her to the elements and the Halls. It was bad enough losing Atyarussa and Maitimo.

Suddenly the squeal of the kettle pulled them both from their thoughts, Failendis moved to grab the teapot and cups, setting up a tray as Makalaure came round with the hot kettle. The two working in silence, once the scalding water was dumped in the pot, Failendis adding the loose leaves into it. The lid clinking lightly against the ceramic dish,

“Will you join me for tea, hanno?” She asked quietly, looking down at the silver tray before herself, while her brother set aside the kettle. He quickly turned his attention to her, nodding at her words without hesitation.

“Of course, Vanie. I shall carry the tray...” At that, Makalaure rounded the counters, grabbing the tray and following right behind Failendis up to the room she was staying in. Both walking in silence, and both hoping they’d not run into any of their brothers. Especially Curufinwe for now, Failendis didn’t know if she could handle another argument right now. It would be positively catastrophic if she argued with him, her resentment having grown for him after the argument in the study.

Nor could she handle listening to Makalaure and Curufinwe go against one another in argument… She was grateful when they made it to her room without incident. Opening the door and letting Makalaure go to the couch that sat before the hearth, placing the tray on the table in the center. Failendis locked her door, still not wanting nosy and prying eyes and ears to mess with her and Kano.

“Tell me nésa… If it is alright, what was it like? To you.” He began, carefully poured her a hot cup of tea. The smell of chamomile and lavender filled her lungs as she took her place next to him, reaching for the spoon that sat in a small jar of honey.

“I… admittedly remember little at the beginning of the Crossing.” She whispered, stirring the spoon in her teacup aimlessly and slowly. Her eyes engrossed upon the flames before them, that lapped and licked at the logs within. Again she felt Makalaure’s hand come to her back, in another attempt to be comforting.

“I was so angry with Atar, and it struck me with such grief over Atar disowning me and for stranding us to the Crossing. Not to mention what happened in Alqualonde. I thought it meant you all would feel the way he did as well.” Even if she had been devastated and angry with her Atar and her brothers… It was no easy feat being told you no longer had a family. Even if her Uncle was more than willing to foster her.

“It was Findekano and Nolofinwe that kept me from fading over the grief.” She explained in a soft voice and at this confession, Makalaure felt ice run through his veins. Even if Failendis had just told him she had indeed almost died, the reasoning was heartbreaking to hear. His grip on her shoulder becoming firm as he scooted closer to her, Failendis’ gaze still lost to the flames.

“Then, once my senses came to me, I felt like I could not breathe. My lungs burned from the frigidness of the air. The wind would lash out angrily, and it was like trying to walk on a field of traps. One moment you could walk across the ice, with ease. The next you were wrapped within a sheet of ice, feeling the chill down to your bone and stiffening your muscles.” At this, Failendis came back from her thoughts, reaching for her teacup, inhaling softly the smell of chamomile and lavender. A smell that brought on some nostalgia, reminding her of when she and amille would sit and share in a cup of tea together, the thought making her heartache at the thought. Finally, she took a generous gulp.

“The second time, it was just sheer exhaustion and from being so cold. I did not think I could make it. My fingers and lips went blue, I could hardly move my legs and arms… I felt so frozen stiff and so tired. I had just wanted to lie in the snow and give in to sleep, not caring if it killed me. It made walking across the ice an even more dangerous game.”

“You never knew if where you stepped was safe or not until it was far too late. The ice could suddenly give way and drag you down into its icy depths, and it was very unforgiving nor willing to relinquish you once it had you.” The moment of Elenwe and Itarille came to mind when they all walked together and suddenly the ice beneath their feet swallowed them whole… Itarille was lucky Turukano had thought so quickly. Yet even despite his quick thinking, it had been too late for Elenwe.

“That... was how Elenwe passed. Itarille almost as well.” She breathed out the thought without prompting, and Makalaure looked away from his sister in shame to hear such words. A member of his own family suffered a fate of death because of their actions… Itarille almost following. He released a shaky breath despite himself, only peering back to Failendis as she set down her teacup.

Try as she might to prevent them, the tears came in silence, without sniffles or heavy breath. Their screams replaying in her head, and the distaste Turukano held for them all was massive. Failendis did not blame him. How could she? Her family was responsible indirectly for Elenwe meeting such a fate.

“It was horrible, Makalaure… It happened in an instant and she was gone. The water was thick with ice once more, just as quickly as it broke.” The emotions she tried hard to repress coming out in a sob, the trauma still fresh even if it had been years ago. At this Makalaure put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him, and willingly she went. Accepting the comfort he had to give her, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. Letting his tears roll down quietly while she cried,

“Vanie..” He moved to say something to reassure Failendis, but what could he say? He thought it better to let her speak her peace instead…

“I see it. Over and over and over again, despite being awake. I can hear Turukano’s cries of panic, see him rushing to save Itarille and clawing at the ice, trying to save Elenwe.” She sobbed out, moving to rest her head against his shoulder. Makalaure could her body shake against his, and the unsteady breaths in which she took as she spoke,

“Now in my sleep, I see Arakano. There is no relief.” Eru knew how long since it had been that Failendis last had relief from the thoughts of death or the thoughts of her brothers being so heartless. Since the Kinslaying, it was never-ending it felt like. Each passing moment only serving to further prove how cruel they were, save this moment and the last.

“He hates all of us, Makalaure. For what happened to her, Turukano openly expressed it in Lammoth. Arakano was the final straw.” She cried, all the hurt and festering just spilling over into a blur of words even if it had no context.

“Curufinwe and Carnistir, I am sure hate me too. I feel unwelcome everywhere, yet I have only just arrived in hanno. I have no place with Nolofinwe, no place with Turukano nor Findarato.” She continued in a shaky panicked breath, Failendis’ body wracked with her sobs and uncontrollable sharp inhales. What was she thinking when she followed her Atar, regardless of what he told her? Feanaro was right. She should’ve stayed in Valinor...

“What happened with Arakano, Vanie?” He asked in a soft voice, trying to keep himself in check, not wanting to take this moment from her. Even if he felt the heavyweight of his actions resting upon his shoulders,

“Orcs killed him.” Failendis said coherently, trying to wipe her face and will away the tears. Makalaure closed his eyes, letting out a heavy breath. Where did he even make amends? To fix this horrific mess his Atar left in his wake?

Nolofinwe’s words about his inability to say it was good to see him only continued to make further sense. How could he even repair that relationship knowing he and his brothers killed not one, but two of Nolofinwe’s children? It would be easier were his eldest brother here… Maitimo would certainly know what to do.

But he was not here, another victim to their Atar’s oath.

Failendis had clearly been the wiser of the eight when it came time to refuse the Oath. Even if she were, it was clear even still she suffered from it indirectly. Bound to it regardless of what her answer to Feanaro had been.

For some time, Makalaure and Failendis sat huddled together, letting her release all the pent-up emotions. Even if it took hours, Makalaure didn’t dare move, only tightening his grip to be snugger and resting his head atop hers. Neither of them touching the tea that they had brought for themselves, leaving it to sit and grow cold.

Failendis let the warmth of his hug wash over her, savoring how good it felt to have comfort from one of her brothers. Breathing him in, just resting against him without worrying about such harsh judgment from him. Makalaure having only patiently listened to her, without rubbing things in. Without accusing her of being a traitor and implying that Failendis was not his kin.

It was only when she reduced herself to sniffles that he would start trying to fix this with Vanie at the very least. It may be but a small step, though Makalaure valued it as his most important one to start with.

“No matter what has happened between us, you are my nésa. You will always have a place here with me. Maitimo too, I am sure, if he were here. Regardless of what the rest of our brothers think or say.” His voice came out like satin, full of warmth and love for his nésa as he turned his head to press a kiss to the top of her head. Giving her a gentle squeeze,

“I care not for what Atar claimed…” He whispered, “You are my kin, and you may stay as long as you need to.” Makalaure assured her, and Failendis could only manage a nod at his words.

“As for Nolofinwe… I think you underestimate how much of a place you have garnered in his life and with his people Vanie.” He realized the bond that the two shared before had ballooned in their crossing together. In the angry and mocking words of Curufinwe, she was the equivalent of a pious devotee of Nienna in their eyes. Someone who proved that even one of them could think rationally and compassionately despite all that had transpired to their family, to have avoided causing such mass hurt. They’d all benefit now to follow their sister’s lead as opposed to continuing down this chaotic path Feanaro had set.

“Bring the issue with Turukano to Nolofinwe, and let him handle speaking with Turukano, for if there is anyone he should not hold a grudge towards in this family, it is you. You are equally… as troubled and have been through so much just as they have. For that moment I am sure he thoughtlessly spoke out of grief.” At this he felt Failendis relax in his hold at his words, reassured by what he had to say. Mentally and physically exhausted from all the crying that she’d done, though lingering within was a relief to have finally spoken on the ordeal.

That her brother had patiently listened to her every word, that he didn’t rub in how “foolish” she was to have denied their Atar her commitment to the oath. Relief that he still loved her and cared about her, and hopefully remorseful for everything he had contributed. Vanie pulled away, moving to sit up as she wiped at her face again with her hands. Her cheeks becoming raw and tender from the repeated motion. Her thoughts running through her head, questions that had piled up… But the most important question coming to the forefront of her mind.

“What do you need from me, nésa?” He asked her patiently, and for a moment she was silent, looking at her hands as she sniffled. What she needed now was the answer to the question that had been plaguing her thoughts.

“Makalaure… Do you regret what all has happened?” She breathed out, needing to know if the compassion and empathy he gave to her were merely selfish to bolster himself- or if it was genuine. Failendis watched Makalaure with scrutiny as she continued to dab her face repeatedly, desperate to dry away all the emotion, while he sighed out hanging his head down.

“More than anything, Vanie. If I could redo everything, I would. I cannot speak for the rest of our brothers, save Minyarussa I am sure.” He breathed out softly, bringing his hands together as he rested his elbows on his thighs with a frown on his face. It had been a nightmare, and with every action, the regret only grew heavier. Like pure iron bars piling in his gut and heart. Quietly, he reached over to hold her hand and squeezing it.

With this information, Failendis could breathe a sigh of relief that someone in her immediate family truly regretted their deplorable actions. It would at least help soothe her fretting over Makalaure and the ellon he had become. Though Failendis wouldn’t hold her breath, he had yet to rescind the Oath.

“Is there anything else, Vanie?” He breathed out, sitting back up and turning more to face her, Failendis merely shrugged for a moment, feeling again the pull of sleep trying to take its hold on her.

“I-I just need rest right now, hanno. Alone.” Vanie mustered a very weak smile, though she was simply too exhausted and spent to muster anything greater. Makalaure returned the soft smile, nodding at her words.

“I understand… I shall leave you to rest.” He began moving to stand, watching as she did the same. Failendis didn’t move towards the bed right away, instead of moving forward to embrace her brother one last time. Makalaure kept his smile, returning the affections, lingering for as long as she did.

It had been years; she missed him and even if she wanted to be angry, right now she couldn’t be. She would save all of her questions for him for another time. With that, the two parted with Failendis eagerly moving to crawl back beneath the duvet. Settling easily into the soft bed, before her eyes could no longer stay open.

Makalaure quietly slipped from the room, only to discover an unwanted eavesdropper outside the door. Curufinwe tensed his jaw as he ground his teeth, waiting for his brother to finish closing the door. He didn’t need to open his mouth, for Makalaure knew what this was about. It was about Vanie staying and surely a slew of other things he overheard.

He merely sighed, shaking his head at Curufinwe’s actions,

“Let us speak in private, Curufinwe. She’s been through plenty, Vanie deserves to rest.” At this Curufinwe, without a word, followed behind Makalaure, stewing on all that he had to say. For truly it couldn’t be expected of them to extend their hospitality to a traitor, regardless of kinship.

* * *

tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @icarus-fell-in-spring @allinwonderlands @red-riding @eluriel-undomiel

Quenyan Names for the Finweans

Maitimo - Maedhros

Makalaure - Maglor

Carnistir - Caranthir

Curufinwe - Curufin

Atyarussa - Amrod

Nolofinwe - Fingolfin

Findekano - Fingon

Arakano - Argon

Turukano - Turgon

Itarille - Idril

Elenwe - Turgon’s Wife

Findarato - Finrod

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