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theelvenhaven · 1 year ago

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Amilesse

Feanor x Nerdanel ft. Vanifinwe

3k Words

Surprise! | Amilesse

* * *

Nerdanel smiled softly as she sat on a stool just at the threshold of her workshop, watching as her youngest and final child run around with her eldest son who pretended to chase after her. Vanifinwë’s cries and squeals of delight were adorable and it warmed her heart to see how Maitimo got on so well once more with another one of his little siblings.

Nerdanel smiled, with a soft laughter leaving her lips, as the elfling ran away with her little red dress flouncing with her bouncing steps and her curly hair bouncing and flowing in the gentle breeze of Manwe. Maitimo making gentle threats of how he was going to capture her, which only further delighted the toddler to squeal out peels of laughter.

Yet despite it all a stress was looming over Nerdanel’s head. Even as she watched her carefree youngest and only daughter play with her big brother. The sight should’ve eased all of her worries and concerns but it didn’t.

Foresight had paid it’s visit to Nerdanel finally regarding Vanifinwë.

Showing that it was time to pick an amilesse- a mothers name- for her daughter. Yet despite all the joy that was here currently, Nerdanel was met with strife and conflict, a long and daunting future for her little girl. One that came in flashes in her minds eye when she had been resting. It scared her for her daughter.

The sight of swords and fire, unfamiliar forests, with energetic stress that had consumed her before peace finally made itself present with rich waterfalls and elven architecture. One that was so far in the distant future… It felt as though it took ages in her sleep to get to that point.

Vanifinwë had a long future ahead of her, a fate tha was unavoidable despite how many times Nerdanel tried to take the reins in the dream and control what came next. To try and tamper with fate, to see what she could do differently to change what could happen to her sweet little girl. It was a heavy burden, and felt equally as heavy when she had tried to name Amrod, Umbarto. Much to Fëanaro’s heavy distress until he convinced her to change his name.

At least with that the next dream that had visited her regarding Amrod it was eased with the name change. Yet try as she mull over less prophetic names for her daughter, the dreams were always the same.

Fire and smoke, swords of steel under a starry sky, untamed wild lands, before intermittent peace here or there before finally the waterfalls and elven architecture ended her dreams. It never changed, no matter how hard or how many names Nerdanel went through to give Vanifinwë something meaningful something that Fëanaro would approve of.

Yet all that came to mind was Anamartindë.

Long Fated Woman.

Fëanaro was going to hate it, it was going to be an argument no doubt. Their darling daughter didn’t deserve such a heavy and prophetic name such as Anamartindë, but the more Nerdanel thought on it. The more it stuck in her mind. This time there was no winning and Fëanaro wasn’t going to get his way, as much as Nerdanel would love to give into the whim of giving her a name that wasn’t that.

She sighed heavily letting worry crinkle on her brows, before she gave a soft smile as Vanifinwë began to laugh hysterically as Maitimo lifted her up. Pressing his lips to her belly and blowing a raspberry that tickled her littlest one. For now she would focus on the good seeing this image of her two children hundreds of years apart, play and be blissfully unaware of the future to come.

* * *

Dinner came and went, the night had been full of talk and fun. Her sons indulging her with grand stories about their hunts, or her tempering arguments with her most sensitive children, hearing the talks of music and politics. Equally as important how her husband fawned and doted on their youngest as he fixated on helping her eat her meal offering her a break to spend time with their eldest children.

Especially before Vanifinwë would steal her attention for bath and bedtime.

Which had gone surprisingly smooth, as the little elfling was positively exhausted from her afternoon play with Maitimo and having missed her nap. Nerdanel hardly sat in the rocking chair, when Vanifinwë closed her heavy eyes, laying against her mother in exhaustion. Nonetheless she still rocked her baby knowing that time was a thief from these moments.

Before finally she relinquished her to her bed, tucking her in and pressing a kiss to her head. Knowing now she must tell Fëanaro of the amilesse she had chosen for her daughter. Despite knowing he would be upset, it didn’t deter her even as she quietly walked down the hallways to their shared chambers. His wrath and distress was no match for her never ending patience.

She sighed out as she shut the bedroom door behind her, watching as Fëanaro came out of the washroom, dripping wet and his hips wrapped in a towel. Another was drying his long black hair before his intense silver eyes landed on her figure. There was a look of concern there that found his face when he saw that she seemed stressed.

“Is everything alright my dear?” He asked moving towards his dresser to fetch a comfortable and lounging pair of trousers. Nerdanel offered him up a weak smile as she came to the bench that sat at the foot of their bed.

“Vani didn’t give you too much trouble did she? I could have helped.” Fëanaro said, making Nerdanel’s smile grow for a moment knowing that he had such a soft spot for their daughter. Probably a bigger one for her than he did their sons, though she knew he wouldn’t admit to that. Not wanting to cause any strife about favoritism issues- though it was clear to everyone that his favorite was Atarinke. Vanifinwë was surely coming quickly into second place, bringing Atarinke to try and father her too. Much to Vanifinwë’s annoyance already despite her young age.

“Oh no, if anything she was calm and easy going tonight for bath and bed.” Nerdanel answered as she began to untie her boots and slip them from her feet. For a moment there was silence between the pair of them and it was tenser than Fëanaro hoped or imagined it should be for such an easy going bedtime routine with their youngest.

He said nothing for the moment as he dressed into those loose lounging trousers, ones that hung from his hips loosely even despite being tied. Usually this would be tantalizing to Nerdanel to see her husband in such a manner she found almost provocative but the amilesse just returned to her mind over and over again.

Fëanaro turned to see his wife sitting here with her head hanging low and her shoulders slackened. Looking far from the confident nis he was used to seeing, quietly he padded across the floor and kneeled down in front of her, between her legs. His hands gently coming to cup her face, his thumbs tenderly stroking her ruddy and freckled face. Watching the small smile that pulled at her lips as she closed her eyes to savor his affections.

“Nerdanel.. What in Eru’s name is on your mind to have you so distressed, my love?” He watched as her pale blue eyes flickered up to meet his and he could see hesitation. Knowing her well enough by now, after so many hundreds of years together, eight children together, seven pregnancies, and traveling and tons of life experience… The look in her eyes was undeniable. There was something ailing her and she was afraid to tell him.

“You can tell me anything, Nerdanel.” He assured her with conviction, and she sighed out again. Fëanaro watched the way she seemed to close her eyes again and sit up straighter. Trying to bolster her confidence, he didn’t rush her despite his growing impatience to know what was on her mind. Nerdanel took his hands from her face and brought it to hold in hers in her lap. Before she looked him in the eyes,

“I have an amilesse for Vani.” Nerdanel confessed with her own conviction and firmness, and she watched the way that a smile seemed to find his lips. Thrilled to hear that it finally happened! It seemed as though it would never come and she’d be well into her majority before Nerdanel would be able to choose one for her.

“That is wonderful news! What is it?” Fëanaro asked with eagerness to know what perfectly beautiful name his wife would’ve chosen for their perfect daughter. But Nerdanel nonetheless braced herself, for her next words she predicted would upset him.

“Anamartndë.”

The meaning took no time to fill the linguist in Fëanaro in on the implications of such a name. Long Fate Woman… Meaning their daughter would be subjected to trials and tribulations. This was just as bad as when she tried to name Amrod Umbarto.

“No.” Fëanaro said firmly as a frown found his lips, and he went to stand. No, he wasn’t naming his innocent daughter Long Fate Woman. Never in a million years, as long as he lived and breathed there was no way in creation that he’d accept that would be her name and let this prophecy come into fruition.

“Absolutely not, Nerdanel we are not doing this again.” Fëanaro said firmly and loudly, angrily. He hated it, but Nerdanel didn’t seem unchanging in the sense that she was going to back down. If anything it seemed to bolster her confidence to fight against his words.

“Yes Fëanaro, that is her name.”

“It is not! I will not let you do this again!” Fëanaro stated as he stood to his feet beginning to pace back and forth in their room. But Nerdanel huffed out through her nose,

“I understand you are upset-“

“Upset? I am furious! To think you are prophesizing such terrible things onto our child! Our only daughter no less! Was Pitayfinwe not enough? Now Vani?” Fëanaro argued back, his anger seeping through the cracks of his firm and stoic façade, growing quickly emotional at whatever it was she dreamt of this time.

“I understand Fëanaro, I am not pleased by it either.” Nerdanel told him with confidence, confiding to him about her own displeasure for the name.

“Then you will name her something else!” Fëanaro said staunchly, meaning every single word and giving Nerdanel no room to budge on the matter. He feared it would be just as Pityafinwe’s fate. Ended cruelly in fire and smoke, at least that was what the last dream implicated for the pair of them. Which he had hoped that by having Nerdanel change his name, it changed his course and fate for something a little more hopeful.

“I have tried, I have mulled over anything else than Anamartndë.”

“Then you have not tried hard enough!” Fëanaro snapped bitterly,

“I have, Naro. No amount of mulling over, or name change has changed the dreams I have. The foresight is all the same, Anamartndë is her mother name.” Nerdanel professed, setting it into stone now at this, and Fëanaro’s face turned beat red. Rivaling her ruddy complexion, he was livid at the idea someone so innocent would have so many trials to face. Even if he didn’t know what the dreams were about he wanted his daughter to have a good and happy life. One that was just as carefree as her brothers.

“It is not! What else have you come up with? We will pick from those.” Fëanaro argued back, but he knew the power of having spoken her name twice now would supersede whatever Nerdanel threw out there. If she even did so. To his distress, Nerdanel shook her head no.

“No, Fëanaro her name is Anamartndë and that is final.” Nerdanel argued back snappishly, not budging like she had before. Not when the foresight was all the same, unlike Pityafinwe’s. There was no changing Vanifinwë’s course. Eru meant it was definitive, and that it was going to happen no matter what they named her.

Anamartndë fit her best for what was to come.

“It can’t be!” There was a lament in his loud and angry voice, and Nerdanel felt for her husband at the sound of his voice.

“I don’t want it to be either, but Eru and even Irmo has a course set for our daughter that is long and arduous before she is met with peace.” Fëanaro tsked at his wife’s words, folding his arms over his chest with a tick in his jaw, not looking at her.

There was a heavy silence that fell over the two of them. No one moved, no one said a thing for a long moment. Nerdanel simply letting Fëanaro mull over the fact he couldn’t rectify or change anything. Not this time. Until finally Nerdanel opened her mouth to speak,

“The vision always starts the same, in flashes. There is fire and smoke. The sky is dark but glittering with stars, with silver swords and icy winds. She meets peace once or twice, but the feeling of doom during those times until the fire and smoke start again with overwhelming sense of stress.” Fëanaro didn’t say anything as Nerdanel spoke, simply turning his head to hide his face as he ground his teeth, biting back the wetness that met his long lashes.

He didn’t want that for her.

Would she ever know true peace? How did he protect her from those things? Would the bliss of childhood be tainted with those things? He had so many questions, not enough answers, and Irmo was ever a cryptic bastard so he couldn’t be sure if it would start soon or later. Not unless his wife had an idea.

“When?” He asked, did it feel soon? Later? In the present?

“Sometime in her future. It is distant.”

“Then there is ample opportunity to shelter her, and protect her from those things. From whatever it is fate is trying to d-“

“I have thought the same thing, but it doesn’t change. There is no recourse no matter the plan I set, no matter the name change, no matter whom I withhold her from or let her see. It never changes. This is her future.” Yet Fëanaro didn’t look appeased or quelled by Nerdanel’s words.

“Her future should not be filled with such doom and stress, it is a trick of Irmo. Melkor has perhaps spent too much time in Irmo’s Gardens and tainted the Lord of Dreams and Rest.” Fëanaro snarked bitterly, refusing to bend to the will of the Irmo and the twisted foresight that was granted to Nerdanel. Refusing to even acknowledge them as visions, but now even as dreams.

“Naro-“

“No! You are not naming her Anamartndë I will not allow it!” He yelled loudly and over Nerdanel trying to reason with him. Not his darling baby girl. No little one should have to worry about such a future or their parents worry about it. It was sickening.

“I have already started calling her Anamartndë.” Nerdanel said firmly in retort, standing from her spot at the bench.

“You will call her something else!” He yelled again,

“I will not! She is Anamartndë! That is her name-“

“Never will that be her name! You’ve gone mad-“

“Do not disregard your daughters-“

There was a creak that froze the pair who were in a bitter battle of wills against one another, and the sound of sniffling that met their ears. Both turning quickly to look to find that the toddler had escaped her bed now standing in the threshold of the doorway in her nightgown. Wiping her eyes, Fëanaro was the first to sigh out in frustration and defeat. Though it would not be for long, they’d speak more on it later.

“Vani, why are you up vanimelda?” Fëanaro said trying to usher a softer and more loving voice as he began to approach her. His heart melting and burning as she held out her arms for him to pick her up, but the toddler didn’t say anything as her father scooped her up off the ground.

“Ana..” Nerdanel cooed coming over to the pair, and to Fëanaro’s dismay he watched how responsive she was to the affectionate nickname for Anamartndë. But he bit his tongue he didn’t want to distress her further.

“Did you have a bad dream?” Nerdanel asked, and slowly Vanifinwë nodded her head against Fëanaro’s shoulder.

“Come now Nerdanel… We probably woke her.” He relinquished with some guilt knowing her room was only a few paces from their bedroom door. To which Vanifinwë only nodded again. There was a collective sigh,

“Here do you want to get into bed with me?” Nerdanel asked holding out her hands, but she watched the way Vanifinwë frowned and curled closer into Fëanaro. Despite the sting of rejection she only smiled that she wanted Fëanaro,

“No.” She grumpily stated, and Fëanaro chuckled softly. Rubbing her little back and kissing her head.

“Does my favorite girl want her Atya?” There was a softness in his voice as he spoke moving away to walk around the bed and move to sit on it, with Vanifinwë still snuggled into his chest. Feeling her nod her little head, tangling her curly hair further that stuck up wildly on the back of her head. Both knew that they wouldn’t get further into this conversation.

For now they’d rest and come back to the topic of conversation at a later date, when little Vani was distracted. No one was winning, it was a losing battle of wills and now it all boiled down to Vanifinwë and whether she’d take on the moniker.

“Well then, while you two cuddle I am going to bathe I am covered in dust and clay.” Nerdanel said with a sigh, but she smiled looking over the sight of her husband cuddled up with their last toddler. This would be the last time they’d do stuff like this with littles and it was a little bittersweet. The sight was so soft and gentle, it was easy to set aside the argument. Fëanaro smiled softly and nodded,

“We will be here meldanya.” Fëanaro reassured her as he continued to rub Vanifinwë’s back who was starting to snore. With that Nerdanel made her way to the washroom leaving behind father, daughter and the argument.

* * *

Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @celebrimbor-telperinquar @red-riding @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma @nerdysimpy @thegirlwithoutaname87 @anunexpectedsideblog @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @eternalabysss @noldorinpainter

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theelvenhaven · 3 years ago

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Oath and Consequences

Part 2

Vanifinwe x Feanorians

4k words

Warnings:

Character Deaths, Graphic Violence

Request: Can you write a what if story about Vanifinwe? About her getting captured in angband instead of Maedhros and what her brothers were doing to save her? I love your writing!!

A/N: Ask and you shall receive anon! Sorry that it took so long to do this! Though anticipate for the last half of your request in part 3. Shout out to saviorsong for helping me with Morgoth’s dialogue.

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3

* * *

Vanifinwë sat in silence amongst her brothers, all of whom sat in a pitched tent. One that they put up in haste on the shores of Lake Mithrim. The stool she sat on was beyond uncomfortable in it, as it was small and awkward, only staring off into the distance with no rhyme or reason. Barely listening as her brothers talked amongst themselves. Discussing what it is they should do after receiving notice from Morgoth.

It was a letter claiming that he would surrender one of the Silmarils. Morgoth claimed it was being done out of the terror of the wrath that was to come of the Noldor. Yet Vanifinwë was not buying such words, not after what she saw done to Finwë and now her father.

It had been a nightmare since they left Manwë and Varda and moved to rally all who would follow Fëanaro to the shores of Arda. They had gained a hefty host, even Nolofinwë following faithfully to leave with Fëanaro when called upon. Without hesitation he had rallied his own followers, even the Arafinwëans had followed their Uncle. Vanifinwë couldn’t help but come to regret not following Nolofinwë instead of her Atar. As she predicted, she regretted this Oath already.

It brought utter ruin upon innocents caught in the crosshairs of her father’s rage and extreme tempestuous behavior. When the Teleri denied him the ships, she knew her Atar would still take them regardless of what they said, but she did not think he would kill them for the ships.

It had been horrific.

Fëanaro beheaded the poor Teleri Lord who came to meet their host when he had decided that he would not be told no again. In an instant, it had caused chaos.

Her brothers quickly took up arms and had slashed their way through the Teleri like they were nothing. Even though the Teleri had every right to defend themselves, they had no weapons of their own to stave off such an attack. Stuck with simple letter openers or kitchen knives at the most, only for each of them to slaughter them as they came.

Vanifinwë was only grateful that Fëanaro had not tried to give her, to use it against the innocent elves her family so willingly moved to slaughter. Other elves within the host had joined the massacre, with Maitimo simply dragging Vanifinwë along through the bodies and blood that ran through the streets of Alqualondë. Washing down the docks and dripping into the water as he slashed at any elf who charged at them.

Fear struck faces paralyzed in death, or agony permanently plastered there. Lifeless eyes that stared back up at her as she looked over the mess. Those who survived their wounds pleaded in desperation for help. Their cries came out broken and in obvious horrid pain, and as much as Vanifinwë would have given everything to have stopped to help them, her family would allow for no such thing.

She protested as much as they drug her along through the blood covered streets, yelling at them to stop. Berating and cursing at them for what they had done! Even as they cut down another elf who even attempted to come near. Vanifinwë was the first to board the ships, per her Atars instructions. Maitimo had physically lifted her and stuck her on the swan ship himself, knowing if he did not she would certainly run back to the Valar.

Vanifinwë would have given anything in that moment to have rushed back and recant her vow. Once the ship set sail, with hundreds following, she could not turn back. It was far too late for that, especially now.

When they had landed, for a while they had dawdled. Waiting for survivors to make landfall, as ships broke in the harsh waves, falling apart and drowning part of their host. Their cries were deafening and heartbreaking. All Vanifinwë could do was stand and listen to them. Maitimo and Makalaurë gave her a weapon Fëanaro kept from giving to her during the Kinslaying. Knowing that now she needed it and that she could not refuse having reached the point of no return.

What ships didn’t make it… lost to Ulmo and Ossë.

By the grace of Eru they had been lucky their own ship had taken on a little water, though that luck was very short-lived after the surviving ships and their sailors arrived. Just as they prepared to return them, so Nolofinwë and his own host may join them, did Fëanaro protest. Screaming for everyone to halt, in their confusion they did as commanded by their High King. While her Atar had given some speech to their host, Vanifinwë had slowly realized that they were short a sibling.

Noting how frantic Minyarussa had looked searching through the crowd for his twin, Vanifinwë ready to join her brother in their search before suddenly a ship burst into flames. Despite being on the sea and having been drenched, the fire took to it like it was dry kindling. This time, Vanifinwë had been the unfortunate target of her Atar, as he shoved a torch in her hands. Hovering over her and making sure she too took part, knowing now she had nowhere to run and rescind anything.

It was the agonized shrill screams of Atyarussa that had caught their attention, several ships in… To their pure horror they could only listen as they pierced through the crackling and burning of the fire. Hatred burned in Vanifinwë’s veins for her Atar at this, and she resented him for making her take part in any of this.

Already she saw the cost of the Oath, and there had been no relief even when Fëanaro was struck by the Balrogs that ambushed them past Mithrim.

They mortally wounded him, and Vanifinwë had hoped that perhaps he saw how in vain this mission had been. That he would release them from the Oath. But no, he merely cursed Morgoth and his body burst into flames in their hold.

“Vanie? Are you listening?” Curufinwë asked, pulling her from the self loathing and memories of their so-called plight. She only hummed out in question,

“Hm? No, I am afraid my mind was elsewhere hanno.” She sighed out, rubbing her face some before moving to stand and approach the table. Pulling her cloak a little tighter around herself as a chilly wind blew through the tent, and she could feel her eldest brother’s eyes on her. Since the burning she could not look him in the eyes, ashamed by what she had done- even if he had done worse. Vanifinwë felt just as responsible for Atyarussa’s death as Fëanaro had been.

“I said that I intend to meet with Morgoth and I shall take an embassy with me. For I do not trust he will appear alone.” Maitimo stated to her simply, and Vanifinwë didn’t understand this either. Another drive of the Oath to retrieve the stupid gem in the hands of their enemy. To meet with him as if he did not smash their grandfather with a hammer or send an ambush that killed their Atar.

“Who are you taking?” She asked him in short,

“Whoever will follow.” Maitimo responded with ease at her words as he watched the way she nodded.

“Unless you object?” Vanifinwë couldn’t help but scoff at his words, as if they would tolerate her objections! They didn’t back in Valinor, not in Alqualondë. She had no way to object in Losgar with Fëanaro breathing down her neck. She would have, if she could have, and as a result Vanifinwë envied Maitimo in the same breath for having done so during the burnings.

She ran a hand through her long black hair, giving a more sarcastic expression that wrinkled her nose. She repressed the sneer that wanted to curl up at her lips, currently at wits’ end with this sudden need to ask her to be present for this “meeting”. Maitimo was simply telling them what he was going to do, whether anyone here liked it. Vanifinwë had caught earlier how Makalaure wanted to go with him, and Maitimo told all the brothers that they were to stay behind.

“Like my opinions and objections matter suddenly?” She questioned, feeling heat flare inside of her. It had grown more intense the longer time had passed, part of her heart having grown sour already from this chaos. Vanifinwë heard the huff that left Curufinwë and Tyelkormo, all knowing easily this could turn into an argument if she very well wanted it too.

They had all concluded she had been quiet for far too long. They had avoided hour long lectures, and a proper chewing out this far. Vanifinwë was an explosion waiting to happen in her brothers’ eyes.

“They have always mattered, Vanie. Now is not the time. If you have any objections, state it now. If not, then I must leave as soon as possible.” Maitimo stressed watching the way her brows knit together, and a frown pulled at her lips with every word he spoke. Only growing more severe as he sidelined her current emotions, even if he had a point.

“The objection I have is that you are going without even one of us, Nelyafinwë.” She stated with firmness to her tone, using his Ataresse, something she had always done if she disapproved of something he did. Folding her arms over her narrow chest as her eyes finally met his. Narrowed and sharply honed in on him,

“Agreed, it is foolish to run in there without us.” Carnistir piped up nodding his head. For once, a sibling was in vocal agreement of her thoughts since this all began.

“Even with an embassy.” Vanifinwë included so Maitimo could not try to weasel that into his argument to make it fair. Maitimo let out a huff of his own, bringing a hand to rub his face as he frowned. He already had this argument with them, now it was Vanifinwë he had to contend with. Why hadn’t anyone made sure she was listening earlier?

“I have already explained why you all cannot come. Each of you will have duties I need for you to do in my absence.” He explained with simplicity, yet Vanifinwë was not buying it. Vigorously she shook her head,

“I have no duties to tend to. I will go with you.” There was an array of gasps and scoffs that flew around the table at this, and the severe look of Maitimo’s face was an immediate sign of an answer to come.

“Vanie that is not happening.” Tyelkormo firmly stated, stabbing his finger firmly into the table as he stared her down. Silver hair falling over his shoulders as he leaned forward as if it would further drive his point home. Vanifinwë merely sneered at his reaction!

“No. You all have forced me into this Oath-”

“No one forced you! You accepted it yourself!” Curufinwë muttered darkly with a sneer of his own to match Vanifinwë’s. Were she more sympathetic in her father’s death, his appearance would’ve offset her. Yet it only made her more determined as she was angry with her Atar, and the sight of Curufinwë looking just like him only made her dig her heels in harder.

“Not without manipulation and pressure from our eldest brothers and Atar!” Vanifinwë as she placed her hands on the tabletop, her voice carrying loudly across the tent as she glared in return to him. Her gaze then turning to Maitimo, his red hair hastily pulled back into a braid with his copper circlet sitting atop his head. If there was any guilt there, he kept it hidden from Vanifinwë’s prying eyes.

“You got me into this mess, knowing I wanted no part of it. I am going with you, the sooner we end this Eru forsaken Oath the better. I want out of it as soon as we can end it.” Each brother turned their attention to Maitimo, who quietly chewed on the inside of his cheek at her words. It was true, if he hadn’t interfered then Vanifinwë would have said no. She would have stayed with their amillë, he was sure, or perhaps stayed with Nolofinwë. Just like their Atar, he had made sure she too took the Oath.

“It is not up for debate, so I do not know why you are thinking so hard.” She added pulling him from his thoughts watching him fold his arms over his chest before there was a sigh and his shoulders hunched forward. Makalaurë gasped at his words!

“Maitimo! You cannot seriously be accepting of it!” He stated quickly,

“Only, if at the first sign of trouble that you run Vanie.” Maitimo added, making sure that there was of course a condition to this, that seemed to be the only game he would play by. Conditions. A condition to show how much Vanifinwë cared for this family to accept the Oath. A condition to take the sword Fëanaro gave her when they landed in Losgar so she may protect them and herself. Now a condition now to run at the first sign of trouble..

“Do you not think I am capable? I fought just as hard as you all during Dagor-nuin-Giliath!” Like them, she had taken to the sword easily and with little help from them, and did indeed prove herself valiant during Dagor-nuin-Giliath. She helped save several other elves who certainly had been in direct peril. Her swordsmanship was far from under fire.

“That is not what I am saying, Vanifinwë. Just let us not take any further risks, it will be bad enough having one of us there. Two of us is far more tempting, I just want for us to be careful.” In silence, Vanifinwë only stared her brother down, thinking on his words and weighing the consequences of what could happen. With a sigh, she nodded, conceding to his words and conditions. Though she would not tell him how she certainly planned to stay if he did not run from that fight either. It was bad enough she contributed to the death of her brother, she’d not leave another one to such a fate again.

“Alright, Nelyafinwë.” She answered, and relief filled her brother to know that she would do as directed. Though the walk to the meeting place would not be a pleasant one, as he knew Vanifinwë was holding her tongue for the moment. Such a long walk would be an opportune time to tell him how she really feels.

“Good. I shall gather some others and we will be off, be ready for when I return.” With that, Maitimo left the tent on a search for other elves who would bravely and perhaps foolishly follow them both to meet with Morgoth. None of the others said a word, there was nothing left to argue.

Maitimo had already given all their tasks and what their duties were in his absence. He hadn’t cleverly thought of any for Vanifinwë, so they could not help him in persuading her to stay. They only lingered in the tent in silence as Vanifinwë placed her sheath back around her waist and waited for his return.

Swiftly Maitimo had returned and Vanifinwë faithfully followed along with his men, being sure to walk beside her brother. Their host was not great or large, but certainly enough to withstand whatever orcs Morgoth might bring to attack them. Vanifinwë was silent the whole walk there, and even if Maitimo said something to her, she responded with nothing. Not wanting to fight or spill what her intentions were about how she would not strand him.

Though she prayed quietly to Eru that it would not have to come down to that. If Morgoth could twist and corrupt her Atar how he had, she didn’t trust what he might do to Maitimo. She commended him silently for at least bringing an embassy, grateful he had enough wits about him to know he wasn’t trustworthy.

For hours they walked with ease through the rocky mountain pass, sensing no sign of unrest around them, even despite the unusual silence that lingered here. In these passes it did not appear there was much wild life this close to Thangorodrim. Though Vanifinwë was already feeling uneasy as they drew nearer to their destination. Chalking it up mostly to nerves about coming face to face with the Dark Valar now knowing truly what he was capable of.

As they walked up the gravel slope to the flat rock area discussed for them to meet at, Vanifinwë had expected for Maitimo to have strategically placed his men. That way if Morgoth showed up alone, so it would not send him on a tirade against them, but he did not.

All walking upon the flat and none having a chance to even settle into the space they had just entered before suddenly orcs and balrogs alike sprang from the surrounding rocks!

Caught in the surprise unprepared, they all scrambled and the fell beasts slew two elves in the embassy amidst the chaos! They didn’t even have the chance to pull their swords out! Not even Vanifinwë and Maitimo could get their swords out in time!

“Vanie! Go!” He commanded in his booming voice, not realizing even if she wanted too.. She could not leave as the fell beasts and creatures surrounded them all, not that she intended to begin with only cutting down the orcs that came forward and at her.

Easily in the attack she became separated from Maitimo as a few of the orcs drove her back, even as she cut one down. His blood splattering on her body, making her grimace in disgust, but just as she turned her attention to the remaining orc… another appeared.

Too preoccupied with the task at hand, Vanifinwë could not see past the creatures before her, and Maitimo had yet to realize what had happened. Trying to assist his companions only to watch each one slaughtered by orcs, no matter how hard they fought against them. They were no match for the balrogs that were present here, and Morgoth was certain to have proven that to Maitimo.

With the crack of a whip, Vanifinwë felt the heat of it wrap around her wrist and yank her back. Forcing her to drop her sword with a clatter and fall back as an orc raised his blade, charging at her fallen form and ready to end her life right there. Heat searing through her wrist from where the whip had scalded and burned her skin.

“Spare the she-elf!” Morgoths voice commanded, prompting her to turn her head and see the Dark Vala stepping forward from where he had hidden with a grin on his face. There was far too much delight on his face as his eyes bounced between herself and Maitimo, his long black hair draped down his black velvet clad back. The claws of the beast behind her wrapping in her thick hair and pulling her to her feet with a grimace. Seeing her brother surrounded by orcs and the other balrogs that stood there.

“I see despite your betrayal that you have brought something far more worthwhile than yourself.” He all but purred as he walked over to where Vanifinwë stood trapped in the clutches of his beast. The grip so tight in her hair she could feel some strands giving way and ripping from her scalp. Morgoth paused just before her, bringing a rough blackened hand to grab her chin and pull her face to look up at him and into his ghastly white eyes.

Quietly his eyes roaming her face, committing it to memory… almost admiring her features, but it was only for a moment. A wry grin once more pulling at his lips,

“Release her Morgoth!” Maitimo hissed out, trying to muscle his way through the hold he was in, several orcs surrounding him with swords all aimed for his throat. Giving him no opportunity to slash his way through it, Morgoth merely chuckled and turned his head before standing back to his full height and releasing her face.

“You are in no position to be demanding things of me, Prince Nelyafinwë.” Morgoth tutted out, Vanifinwë watching him like a hawk with a glare on her brow. Though she didn’t struggle, Vanifinwë knew well enough what he was capable of. There was no point in that. Even if her adrenaline and anxiety was pounding through her, nothing good would come of this. They fell into his trap like flies to vinegar…

“What is it you want?” Vanifinwë piped up from behind him, not wanting to draw things out and to get right down to it, feeling Maitimo’s eyes flit between herself and the Dark Vala. She knew that there were consequences to face, beating around the bush would only be worse.

“My, my eager are we?” He paused in thought after his words, slinking across the rocky ground back to Vanifinwë,

“What I wanted was your brother. I knew he’d betray me, relished in the thought of watching him end up so defenseless and powerless against me as I had his embassy slaughtered and taking him as my prisoner.” He sighed out casually, shoulders back and straight as he clasped his hands behind his back. Boots scuffing across the ground as he halted before her, looking down his nose at Vanifinwë, as she all but sneered gazing back at him.

“Yet imagine my surprise to see you amongst them too, not one but two of Fëanaro’s prized offspring almost as precious as his gemstones.” Morgoth delivered a jab, knowing well the spite she held for those rocks, though his words held some truth Vanifinwë had come to terms with. Fëanaro had indeed loved those gemstones more than his children. Regardless, it sent a flush of heat through her, leaving her to glower in response.

“Well? You have me so take me and let my nesa go.” Maitimo responded easily and without a shred of hesitation, Vanifinwë could only watch the way Morgoth seemed to shake his head, eyes still trained on her as he tilted his head. Half heartedly looking over his shoulder at the eldest Fëanorian, waving away his words with a scorched hand.

“Again, you are in no position to be making demands, Nelyafinwë.” His voice deep and commanding this time, almost a growl as his lip curled at the Prince’s pressing. Morgoth stepped to the side of the elleth still within the fell beast’s hold, bringing his hand to slip around her throat.

“My plans changed when I saw Anamartindë. Such a fitting name for all that I have in store for your beloved sister.” He sighed out, shoving the beast away, its claws snatching her head sideways and ripping black strands from her scalp. Bringing her to hiss out in pain as the Dark Vala stood right behind her, Vanifinwë locking eyes with her brother as sweat beaded on her forehead. A shaky sigh releasing from her throat at his words…

There was nothing that could be done… It was just her and Maitimo left, and she was going to end up in Morgoth’s clutches. There was no doubt about any of it… What was there to do?

Vanifinwë felt Morgoth’s hand squeezing lightly as her pulse quickened beneath the pads of his sensitive fingers. Swallowing thickly as all she could do was stare back at her equally bewildered brother,

“Take one last look and let this be a warning, Nelyafinwë. Leave now with your host, back to Valinor, lest you be met with my wrath. Leave knowing that your dear sister will know pain unlike any you can fathom and that you and your brothers failed.” Vanifinwë watched as Maitimo’s brow furrowed deep in his anger, his jaw clenched tight and his body tense and ready to jump out at a moment’s notice. Even despite being restrained and knowing at this moment it would do no good…

Before Maitimo could protest or even open his mouth and demand that he take him instead, in a cloud of black smoke both Vanifinwë and Morgoth were gone. The balrogs following in smoke and flame and with orcs being all that were left in his fury; he barreled through them. Sword swiping, slashing throats, heads rolling and all who could ran at the intensity in which Maitimo fought with.

Screaming out angrily now that his sister was gone and there was nothing more that he could do.

* * *

Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @icarus-fell-in-spring @allinwonderlands @red-riding @eluriel-undomiel @ta-ka-shi-ma @nerdyely @thegirlwithoutaname87 @anunexpectedsideblog @achasiel

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theelvenhaven · 3 years ago

Text

Gone Too Far

Vanifinwë x Curufin

Important Warnings: Graphic Attempted Murder (literally), Strangulation, Abuse: Verbal, Name Calling, Bullying

2.4k words

Hányo - q. Brother

Ner - q. Elf Male

IMPORTANT AUTHORS NOTE PLEASE READ FIRST:

Due to the graphic nature of the fic I have chosen not to tag anyone. While it is not something that is gorey but attempted murder is attempted murder. It might be way too graphic for other readers. So I ask that you guys approach this carefully if this is something you wouldn’t consider reading to begin with. Everything is hidden under the undercut even though the beginning is soft.

* * *

Vanifinwë sat before the roaring hearth, a warm wolf fur blanket in her lap and a book in hand. Her brothers were gone for now while she sat comfortably in Himring, off to do whatever it was that required their attention. Perhaps related to the Siege of Angband, as it was not something she physically participated in.

The sounds of the hearth filled the room, logs and fire crackling and shifting down into ash slowly. Dancing with ferocity as the fire licked and lapped at the large chunks of wood within its grasp.

Between the heat of the hearth and the blanket around her legs, Vanifinwë was extremely comfortable. The harsh cold of Himring kept completely at bay for now, allowing her to only be in one layer for once as opposed to the two or three she liked to wear. The black velvet gown was thick enough already yet she chilled so easily since the Crossing.

Turning to the next page, Vanifinwë reached over to the side table grabbing her glass of wine to take a sip from it just as she heard the door to the study open. For a moment she paid no mind to the soul that had entered the room until Vanifinwe heard the unmistakable sound of the door locking.

“Are we hiding from Maitimo?” She asked with mild amusement, only seeing a small swath of blackened hair out of her peripheral, assuming it was Makalaurë who often kept her company when he was not busy with skirmishes or planning for their next assault. Yet she only heard the soft sounds of footsteps approaching leisurely,

“That bad that you’re not even answering Makala-” Vanifinwë paused holding her glass to her lips as she finally looked up to spot the face of her father staring back at her. A scowl on his face as simply clasped his hands behind his back, black hair swept down his back neatly with his circlet of silver crowned atop his head. Red tunic buttoned high upon his neck and thin black robes fell around him,

“Suddenly changed your mind about my branding, hányo?” She inquired, skewing a black brow up asking in reference to calling her a traitor. Her appearance rivaling that of Curufinwë’s as she too looked starkly like Fëanaro, and to Curufinwë that simply wouldn’t do. A traitor like her didn’t deserve to mimic the ner that raised them. He tsked harshly at her words.

“Hardly.” Curufinwë seethed, “Do not address me as if you are my family, torco.”

Vanifinwë’s brows went up as Curufinwë threw out calling her a troll!

“Oh! Is that what we are resorting to now? Name calling? Here I thought you were better than this.” She said in a grave voice, taking another sip from her wine, blue eyes focused on her elder brother. A fire lit behind them, ready to be on the defensive against him, again. Daily this became an occurrence, this fighting and bullying that he doled out like she was nothing to him.

“I shall as you continue to reside here in waiting as if you think you belong here. You are nothing but shit beneath my boot and you have no place here.” He replied easily, still the anger in his tone was unmistakable and Vanifinwë set her jaw tightly. Furrowing her brows deeply as she glared back at him,

“I am blood, I shall stay where I please Curufinwë.” Vanifinwë retorted back quickly, trying not to let her “brother” rile her up. It was hard when they had been close, him the annoyingly strict father figure in her life it seemed as her and Tyelperinquar were close in age. That and it didn’t help that he looked so much like Fëanaro only opened up old wounds when he disowned her.

“You may be blood but not even Atya considered you family. You have no fealty nor love for this family-”

“Do not tell me what it is I feel for this family hányo.” She hissed in return, setting her book aside and crossing her leg over her knee, gripping the armrest trying to restrain her anger. Feeling already as her hands began to shake with her every mounting ire.

“Oh I shall remind you daily until you are thrust from these walls. You have nothing, you are nothing, you are worth nothing. Get gone from here while you still are on the receiving end of my “kindness”.” Vanifinwe scoffed audibly at Curufinwë’s words watching as he moved to stand before the hearth, the stern look still on his face and only growing worse the longer this conversation was going on.

“You are not Maitimo! You have no place or right to tell me where I should and shouldn’t be Curufinwë! You are not King nor Lord of these lands to tell me what to do!” She hissed out in return standing from her seat, with her blanket falling to the floor before her feet. Holding the glass by the cup and not the stem any longer, watching as a smug smirk began to find his lips.

“I am still a Prince, Vanifinwë. While you are nothing but a title-less, worthless, insignificant nobody. No one here loves you Vanifinwë. They simply tolerate you and all have tired of your foolish efforts to make us turn on Atya.” Curufinwë continued approaching her slowly with his hands still behind his back, chest and shoulders back and out. His head held regal and high, forcing her to crane her neck to look up at him.

“And you Curufinwë are nothing but a fool trying to imitate a ner you’ll never be even half as good as at his best. But I suspect you’ll fall much lower and harder than Atya.” Vanifinwë responded holding herself up just as tall as Curufinwë even if she was shorter than him by several inches. Curufinwë released a heavy breath and the ire in his face had grown exponentially, Vanifinwë could see his hands shaking as he balled them up.

“Silence yourself, lest I make you!” He growled and this time Vanifinwë took a step further, pleased to see that nasty smirk off of his face. Readying to take her leave but not without the final word,

“I take no orders from the likes of you.” Vanifinwë sneered, “Make me if you want me to shut up so badly.”

For a moment, the tension mounted, so taut it was a breath away from snapping. Both staring back into each other's eyes and neither making the move to back down from the other. Vanifinwë was far from afraid of her brother, unlike their father he was a coward and that was all Curufinwë had ever been. That was all he would ever be to her.

“That is what I thought. You’re nothing but a coward.” Her lip curled up and Vanifinwë began to take the next few steps away from Curufinwë in no mood to continue this argument and hearing what other sniveling nonsense that might fall off his tongue.

Yet it seemed to happen much quicker than Vanifinwë could’ve imagined it going.

His hand suddenly snatched her black hair back with force, strands ripping from her scalp and her wine glass falling from her hand and shattering as she grimaced and grunted at the pulling. Immediately she reached behind her, trying to claw at his hand and grab at his wrist.

But with a sharper pull Curufinwë pulled her to the ground, leaving her to gasp out sharply in surprise before she crashed to the floor with Curufinwë climbing on top of her.

“Get off!!!!” She yelled, reaching her hands forward to shove at him as he leaned over. Vanifinwë’s feet were trying to shove her hips upwards to tip him off of her, but he was stronger even if it wasn’t by much.

Still he was silent, seeing red, going beyond wishing to show Vanifinwë what her place was to him and in this family she was no longer a part of.

Her fingernails scratching at his arms were fruitless as the thick velvet material protected them from her long square nails.

He simply fought against her arms, easily overpowering them and pulling them down where he could pin them beneath his knees with his full weight. Vanifinwë let out a cry of aggravation,

“Coward! Just hit me already!!!” She cried out!

Only a coward would leave her defenseless against his strikes if that was what this was about. It wasn’t like they hadn’t hit each other before, they were siblings after all, but this was certainly a new low.

“I said shut up.” He hissed bringing his hands to her throat where he wrapped them easily around her narrow neck and began to squeeze.

Vanifinwë scrambled beneath him, pushing against the floor as hard as she could and trying to pull her arms from beneath him.

Feeling his hands quickly growing tighter around her throat, taking gasping breaths and trying to call out for help. From anyone. A maid, a servant, a guard! It merely came out as a wordless cry that died quickly.

Panic swelling in her chest as she could feel the straining in his hands as he continued to squeeze harder.

Mouth gaping, yet no breath came in or out.

Terror seized her heart as it pounded furiously in her chest, feet kicking harder at the ground as she pulled again for her arms to be free.

The pain of the weight of him was nothing compared to the burning in her lungs that she couldn’t fill with air to alleviate it.

Black dots scattered across her vision, face turning red, her kicks slowing but she was trying to use more of her strength than quickness to roll him off of her.

Freeing a hand that she brought to his hand that was wrapped around her throat.

Fingers clawing and digging into his skin viciously drawing blood that dripped and dribbled onto her.

Curufinwë only seemed to squeeze harder.

Tears welled and spilled over, as her life quickly flashed before her eyes, and the reality that her brother was going to kill her set in.

Then suddenly she deeply and painfully filled her lungs with air as he released her throat.

Her free hand gently came to rest against it to be doubly sure she was free to breathe, eyes quickly going to Curufinwë who looked unnervingly satisfied as he didn’t budge from atop of her. Quickly she cast her gaze away, finally to Curufinwë the submission she had so stubbornly refused to show was now shining through.

Vanifinwë couldn’t control the suddenness of tears that sprang forth in a deluge beyond her own volition, her chest ached from every breath that she took and her heart continued to pound heavily.

When Vanifinwë opened her mouth to speak, or cry out for help… Whichever came first Curufinwë simply clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t learn your lesson.” He tsked and he heard her swallow thickly at his words, goosebumps rising on her skin.

“You will leave Himring, you will say nothing more of betraying Atya and you will tell none what has happened here.” Curufinwë growled out, pressing his hand hard against her mouth, hearing her breathing quicken between fear and still she was trying to catch her breath.

“I’m not the coward you think I am.” The threat was there, subtly. One that promised he would finish what he started if she refused.

“Consider this a mercy but it will not last. Are we clear?” His voice was too even, too cool and collected despite the strain he must have been under. Despite the fact that he was going to kill her… His own blood. His baby sister.

Vanifinwë blinked quickly as the tears streamed out, slowly nodding her head to the best of her ability. Afraid to even utter the smallest squeak in fear of retaliation from Curufinwë… Hate settled in the pit of her stomach as she stared up at him.

She hated him, absolutely despised everything about him. Always had he been a nuisance, but this… He was a coward. Without a doubt and this simply proved it, but never again would Vanifinwë make the mistake of speaking to him again or seeing him again.

Finally and slowly Curufinwë pulled his hand away, testing to see if she would release even the softest of cries for help. But she didn’t, with no grace and every intention of hurting her further, he sat back on her knees. Crushing her arm before he got up to stand, pressing his boot against her stomach as he walked across her.

Vanifinwë held in the cry she wanted to release, only balling up in the floor to hold her stomach to try and stop the pain.

She simply listened to the sound of the door unlocking, opening and shutting.

Quietly she cried, before sitting up slowly and looking around the room.

The rug was stained with red wine, with glass shards sprawled across the floor glittering in hearth and Anar’s light and the chair had been knocked out of the way. Black strands of her hair were on the floor around her and blood was on her fingers and beneath her nails.

Her thoughts were disoriented and racing, barely able to piece together what to do until she caught the sight of the glinting mirror.

Shakily she stood to her feet, stumbling some and her head feeling light and dizzy. Nausea came in a beastly wave and she repressed the urge to vomit. Taking another deep breath trying to repress the urge back. Praising Eru that she was alive to take this very same breath she had now.

Vanifinwë carefully walked over to the mirror and caught sight of herself…

Black hair was tangled and disheveled from where she had struggled against Curufinwë… His blood on her throat in a perfect ring across it… To go with the bright red splotches from where his hands and fingers had pressed into her.

Painfully, she swallowed thickly, not stopping the tears as they came. Looking away from herself.

An exit plan was needed from Himring and a way to cover these bruises. No one could ever find out about this she decided, Curufinwë was right. Vanifinwë didn’t doubt that he would kill her if they found out. Any shred of uncertainty that she would’ve had before was gone now.

It was undeniable.

Vanifinwe would wear high collared dresses for the next few days while she packed. Her neck wouldn’t fully heal before she left, she wouldn’t wait that long.

She simply picked up the blanket from the floor and wrapped it around her shoulders, covering her neck before hurrying from the study. Readying to change and hide away for the day while she prepared to leave.

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theelvenhaven · 3 years ago

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Hmmm so I've seen asks about Vani being with Dior and ones with Glorfindel but I'm wondering what would a relationship between Vanifinwe and Thranduil look like if they got together ?

11.09.2021

Oooh their relationship would be interesting. Considering that Thranduil was said to be alive during the First Age and the Kinslaying in Doriath I believe. It definitely would’ve had a little bit of an enemies to lovers vibe especially on Thranduil’s end.

I mean her brothers committed a Kinslaying, Vanifinwë doesn’t take things lying down, but she also understands where others are coming from when resentment for her brothers is shifted onto her.

- They definitely would’ve met sometime during the Second Age. Maybe sometime way before the Fall of Eregion.

- I think at first it would’ve been really hot and cold on Thranduils end, he’s taken by her and wants to be with her. But she has a horrid family history, but she’s like Celebrimbor where she never followed after those family members.

- Though I think it would’ve been Vani who would’ve made the first move with Thranduil confessing how she feels for him. But in a “This is why we shouldn’t interact” speech that he would’ve just kissed her to make her stop talking.

- I think their relationship would be very passion filled and very romantic on both ends.

- They’d both be affectionate with another, publicly and privately. Lots of handholding, kisses, embraces, and sweet nothings whispered between one another.

- I think in this dynamic, try as Vani might to be protective of Thranduil, he’d be more so over her. And would spend easily as much time as he could helping her reputation recover and definitely making sure she stayed on top of being able to still use a sword.

- Vani is still a big hen though, and would flit and freak out every time Thranduil is hurt. He loves it even though he just tries to coolly assure her he’s okay whenever he is hurt.

- As much as Vani would hate it at first and fight Thranduil on it, Thranduil would definitely push for Vani to take mantle and title as Princess and eventually Queen of Mirkwood. He’d never drop it until she finally gave in because he’s just as stubborn as she is. And doesn’t care for Vani’s no title complex

- Thranduil would definitely appreciate Vani’s leadership qualities and abilities and would easily rely on her for counsel as she would do the same for him.

- She would certainly help him strengthen relations between her cousins and their kingdom and teach him what they are like.

- Vanifinwë would certainly always have Thranduil’s back, physically, mentally and emotionally and it’s very rare that she doesn’t.

- Thranduil would really push her to come out of her shell and not let the past keep holding her back like it has/had been.

They would honestly be power couple goals and quite the dynamic duo.

#asks #theelvenhaven #vanifinwe #anamartindë #failendis #faeleth

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theelvenhaven · 3 years ago

Text

Oath and Consequences

Part 1

Vanifinwe x Feanorians

2.2k words

Warnings:

Strong Language, Manipulation, Parent/Sibling Gaslighting, Feanaro intimidating Vanifinwe, Graphic mentions of Finwe’s death, There is indeed an eventual escape from all this.

Request: Can you write a what if story for Vanifinwe? About how she swore the oath? Thank you!

A/N: I wrote this months ago and have been hoarding it until I finished part 2 at least. I am mostly done with part 2 and ready to post this!

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3

* * *

An Oath… A binding and grievous thing that had left her Atar’s mouth with no shred of hesitation before Manwë and Varda beneath the glittering stars. Before Eru Iluvatar himself, and while Vanifinwë had agreed with her, Atar’s decision to confront the Valar so they could handle Morgoth. This was not what she expected happening. Standing and observing as one by one. Each impassioned by their Atar’s plight raised their silver blades beneath the starry and black sky.

Torches in the other hand of each Fëanorian, casting a menacing glow and emphasizing all of their glares.

Taking the Oath first was Maitimo and Curufinwë, which merely only drove the rest of her brothers onward. Makalaurë followed only moments behind them despite the more rational temperament he had, Carnistir third… Until Minyarussa was the last to utter the words.

Each swayed by what Fëanaro had spoken, except for her.

‘... Shall defend himself from Fëanor, and Fëanor’s kin...’

Vanifinwë was left to hesitate as his soul-crushing words weighed heavily on her shoulders and mind. Essentially, no matter the cost… They were to reclaim the Silmarils. She didn’t want to imagine what the cost was, but knew she’d discover it much quicker than she ever wanted to. The words ‘... Death we will deal him...’ standing out most prominently…

All for those dreadful rotten rocks that had sent her once more benevolent and loving Atar on a downward spiral. Watching how bleak and reclusive… angry he had grown to be, his temper shorter than normal. Arguments frequent and paranoia heightened. He was not the ellon who raised her any longer. This ellon who stood before her now was completely indistinguishable.

Vanfinwë’s voice trapped in her throat as she couldn’t bring herself to answer, heart thumping heavily in her rib cage. As each brother accepted it, the disappointment and concern fell sadly over the Vala who sat before them. Their radiance dimmed as every brother spoke. All eyes- blue and gray alike fell upon Vanifinwë who stared like a doe caught in the lamplight, paling entirely at the immediate audience she had earned.

Still, was she trying to get even past the incomprehensible mess of what had been her grandfather crushed in the entryway's floor of their Fort out of her mind. Vanifinwë and Finwë were supposed to have just spent the evening together, a rare event for them both to indulge with one another. Vanifinwe was still disturbed by what she had wandered in on, after having heard Grond having subdued him…

The way his yelp was cut so short, replaced with crushing bone… Never did she want to hear such a blow again. Yet it echoed over and over in her mind. Praise Eru she had not been in the room when the event took place. Who knew what he would’ve done to her...

Her throat was still raw from how strenuous her shriek in sheer terror had been after seeing him ground into the floor. He had been nothing but a lump of gore- parts of blood, tissue and bone scattered all across the marble flooring. Morgoth did not spare him anything. Vanfinwë, even despite that, still approached Finwë, unsure of what she was supposed to have done.

What did you do when you found your loved one crushed to death by the Dark Vala?

Parts of her grandfather caked to the hem of her skirt from even walking through the foyer. Not having the time to have changed, nor the right mind to do so. Everything had developed so quickly, her brothers having appeared not long after her revelation. It was only some time later Fëanaro showed up, growing positively distraught with every passing moment, yet his tipping point had been the discovery of the stolen jewels.

“Vanifinwë, what say you?” Fëanaro’s voice thundered out, alarming her further from her thoughts, as he moved to approach her. Dressed in his armor that gleamed in the torchlight, and an orange halo surrounded his form, black boots scuffing across the ground. His silver eyes dark, looking at her with unbridled fury and expectation watching as his daughter only stared at him in stark surprise.

“What say you?” He crowded severely, growing restless with her lack of enthusiasm to take up the Oath the same way her brothers had.

What was she supposed to do?

Everything was happening much too quickly! He had uttered words that could not be taken back. Or better yet, that he wouldn’t take back, she speculated. Everyone’s acceptance came without a second thought. Should she be making the same mistake?

What good would come of this? Them against a Vala? They were not Maiar, Valar or any other Celestial being who could face him properly! Would one less body in this fight truly make such a difference?

“I-I don’t know Atar.” She sighed out, feeling her chest tighten with dread, and watched the way his eyes further narrowed in on her, only prompting him to move ever closer until he was hovering over her. Her Atar’s shoulders squared and his body defensive, ready at a moment’s notice to strike. His sword still drawn and in his white-knuckled fist as he glowered down hard at her, a heavy huff leaving his nose as it flared.

“You don’t know?” Fëanaro all but growled out in response, head tilting as his bright eyes remained focused on her, the crimson plume on his helm flowing in the motion's direction.

“Do you not wish to seek vengeance upon the Vala who slaughtered your grandfather in cold blood? And the heirlooms in which he held no claim for? Or are you so self-centered you’d rather sit here like your amillë and do nothing?” Fëanaro’s comments caught Vanfiinwë off guard. He intended the apathy and bitterness in his words, to slash at her fëa without a doubt.

What’s selfish about not wanting to run recklessly into this? She understood her father’s passion about avenging Finwe, but she could not get past the fact that he wanted to make this about the Silmarils.

Would they not be retrieved if they defeated Morgoth? And with the Valars help? Why must they do this themselves!?

“You sounded so ready moments ago for this confrontation. Yet now you don’t know?” Fëanaro pressed firmly, proving to make her chest feel tighter with every remark he battered out against her. She would not look for anyone to help, Vanifinwë would gain no help here. As she glanced past her Atar, all their stares were grim and expectant, and the Valar were hushed.

No one budged, nor said a word, waiting on bated breath for whatever her response may be. Vanifinwë could not bring herself to give an answer straight away, hoping that perhaps she could make him see reason. To rescind the Vow and do this with Varda and Manwe’s help. She wanted to avoid having to connect herself to the Oath, even with the pressure rising.

“Must it be this way, Atar? Through an Oath? None of which even states to avenge Finwë!” Vanifinwë pulled together finally. The look on his face at her words only said the words she spoke were dangerous. His eyes widening, a fire smoldering in those molten pools of silver, and his face flushing red in his fury.

“Are you truly a child of mine!? Have I failed so utterly in your raising that you cannot do this one thing, after all that I have devoted to you!?” Fëanaro’s voice exploded out, causing her to flinch. Her luminous blue eyes widening at his words and the voice which he used. Arguments were what she was used to, they were Fëanorian and passionate. That was just the nature of it all, but to be yelled at? She’d never been spoken to so ruthlessly and viciously, or for him to question if she was a child of his…

With ease he dangled all the love and affection that he had done and given her as if she owed him for it all. Was it not meant to be unconditional? How was it that her amillë’s love was unconditional and now her Atars was not?

“Atar, how could you say that?” Her voice came out strong despite the hurt she felt gnawing at her, too numb to even let tears form. Her chest continued to constrict around her heart and lungs, stripping away her breath. Only scowling, matching his expression easily as her own fire flared before Maitimo got to their father. Placing a hand on his arm and pulling with care,

“Let us Atar…” He murmured, seeing that they would not get Vanifinwë to budge on her stance if Fëanaro continued to yell… That or worse if his temper continued to flare in such an erratic fashion. Fëanaro relented, stepping aside for him and Makalaurë. Vanifinwë watched them with wariness, not trusting that they too wouldn’t react so brutally.

“Vanie, this is the least we can do for Atar and our grandfather.” Maitimo began gently, sheathing his blade, for the time being, his hands reaching out to grab her shoulders. Affectionately, his thumbs rubbed with care. It was his attempt to soften her resolve, knowing she was far more compliant and trusting of him now that he spoke so peacefully.

“But at any cost? For the Silmarils?” She whispered to him, knitting her eyebrows together, leaning forward into him to level with him. Yet he and Makalaurë only shook their heads at her remarks,

“It is not just for the Silmarils, nésa.” Makalaurë butted in swiftly, stepping closer and further cornering her in between them both. Makalaurë folded his arms over his chest, staring at his nesa and the confliction that seemed to rush over her face at his comments. As she could not figure out how they deduced that this was as much for Finwë as it had been for those insufferable gemstones.

“Precisely… It is for our grandfather. Should Morgoth not pay the price for all that he has done to this family? From murder to theft?” Maitimo continued making her swallow hard at his words,

“But of cour-”

“So what is stopping you from taking the Oath?” Fëanaro interrupted her, Maitimo and Makalaurë only looking at her intently as a look of disbelief crossed her features. In silence she looked past Maitimo and Makalaure. Looking over at the rest of her siblings again, each one looking on in anticipation for her to comply. All of them wound tight and ready to pounce in on the opportunity to sway her if they had too. All the while the Valar only sat silently, not interfering or preventing them in their plight against Vanifinwë.

“Maitimo, this doesn’t seem right!”

“It’s not about what feels right, doing the right thing does not constantly feel perfect, Vanie.” Vanifinwë knew that there was some fact to his words, but even so it rang hollow with this Oath. It was not a movement she’d be able to bring herself to wholly and easily support in the same manner they did. Vanifinwë knew if she answered yes, she’d forever live with the regret of taking it.

“Enough of this folly! Either you are with us or you are not, child!” Fëanaro began coming closer between Maitimo and Makalaurë. His voice was cold and precise, silver eyes staring at her immediately, boring into her blue ones full of intimidation and rage. Fëanaro’s flame only having grown while waiting.

“An answer now! Lest I must renounce my offspring, for a child with no fealty to this family cannot be called mine!” Fear was set ablaze in her heart, her options running so limited and if she wanted to avenge Finwë, this looked as if it were the only way. Yet her answer still fell short of escaping her mouth, which angered him further.

“Do you care any for your family?” Maitimo demanded, not wanting to see her subjected to being disowned by their Atar. The crestfallen expression at Fëanaro’s words was all that he needed to know that this would push her to that edge to say yes.

“Yes! Of course!” She answered immediately furrowing her brows with worry at his words,

“If you do then will you accept the Oath then Vanie! It is a simple yes or no!” He urged harder,

“Yes!” She answered even though the answer, no, had been on the very tip of her tongue, terrified of losing her family further. Even though she’d be losing her amillë… But all of her brothers and her father too? Vanifinwe hardly fathomed it, smug satisfaction finally found her Atars face. At this he moved forward, Maitimo stepping aside for their Atar.

Fëanaro’s hand came to her shoulder as he leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. Relieved that things did not have to go any further, that he didn’t have to disown his daughter to get her to accept the Oath.

“Now, let us leave. We shall rally our people and set forth upon this mission to avenge what we have lost.” Vanifinwe let regret wash over her, knowing she only had a moment now to rescind it. As she was still before the Valar and hopefully, Eru was listening diligently at this moment, yet it never left her mouth. Instead, Vanifinwe followed her Atar, with her brothers in tow and regret settling in the pit of her stomach over what she had done.

Even if her body screamed for her to turn around and return to Manwë and Varda, her mind racing with panic as the thoughts spilled over, Vanifinwë.

There was no turning back now. * * *

Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @icarus-fell-in-spring @allinwonderlands @red-riding @miriel-estelwen

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theelvenhaven · 3 years ago

Text

If Vanifinwe married Dior

Request: headcanons of your oc vanifinwe x dior? Like how they met, her brothers reactions...

* * *

- If Vanifinwe would’ve married Dior, they would’ve first met in the woods of Tol Galen when he was well into adulthood on complete accident.

- It would’ve been during a time when she was looking to distance herself from her brothers and wanting nothing more to do with them.

- Not knowing who he was, Vanifinwë would’ve been friendly and open in speaking with him. Even after he told her what his name was.

- Vanifinwe instead withheld her name, not wanting him to know that she was a Feanorian and for him to assume the worst about her and if anything she would’ve done her best to keep her a relative distance from him.

- Even though the moment she saw him and heard him speak that she knew he was her one, still she wouldn’t have wanted to get involved.

- Especially knowing that he was the son of Luthien and Beren, and know exactly just what her brothers had done to them.

- Dior, on the other hand, certainly would’ve pursued her, visiting her daily and wanting to take the time to get to know Vanifinwe.

- As much as she would try to resist, there isn’t much about him that she would resist, answering any and all of his questions, except for the ones surrounding her name and intimate details of her family.

- She’d always find his company refreshing and enjoying keeping close to him, bantering along with him.

- Vanifinwë wouldn’t ever gather the courage to initiate any romantic whims on her own, so it would be Dior who would be the first to kiss or hold her hand.

- She’d indulge in every sweet whim, even growing more bold to initiate such affections to him openly and full of such tender affection.

- Though none of it is done without heavy regret and the weight of all her secretive behavior.

- When Dior asked to court her, Vanifinwë would have told her who she was, and what her honest intentions were. That she was looking to distance herself far away from the rest of her family.

- She’d have given Dior time to process this information and kept her distance while he stewed on that information and perhaps approached his family over it as well.

- Before Dior asked to court her again, he certainly brought her to meet with his parents. To explain herself while they also expressed their distrust with all things considering.

- Only after Vanifinwë stayed so transparent and built a relationship with Luthien and Beren would they have been comfortable with her and Dior courting officially.

- Dior would be extremely affectionate and gentlemanly with Vanifinwë.

- Holding her hands and keeping close to her when together, stealing a soft kiss or two from her lips when he can.

- He’s unafraid to give her snippets of affection in public, but is massively soft and lax when they are in private.

- Wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her close to him while he speaks to her.

- Shamelessly spending his time kissing her softly in between all of her words, pulling soft laughter from her.

- He is also massively over protective of her, especially the more she opens up to him about her time in Beleriand and the experiences of dealing with the backlash of being related to her brothers.

- He is the first to stamp out any and all rumors as soon as they crop up after her revealing who she is to them in Tol Galen.

- Things for Dior and Vanifinwë at that rate would’ve only gotten better and progressed into eventual marriage with the two head over heels for each other.

- Their relationship would be one of warmth and trust for one another, both just wanting to savor and enjoy all of each other’s affections and the time they share together.

- Both would both blissfully focus on building their lives together and one day being in Doriath and ruling together.

- Though Vanifinwë would explicitly tell Dior that she would not take up mantle as Queen of Doriath and preferring to help him regardless, just without titles.

- He’d be very reluctant to accept this, considering he loves her and wants her as his equal, but he’d accept it regardless as it is her wishes and he can’t really resist.

- With Vanifinwë keeping her family at several arms length not wanting anything to do with them or wanting them to interfere and possibly ruin the one good thing she has created in Beleriand.

- Though sometime after they are wed do her brothers discover of her relationship. As after sometime of Luthien living in Tol Galen would they have stopped watching over her in hopes to get their hands on a Silmaril.

- The news to her brothers come as a complete and total shock, that she has wed a child of Luthien and that she was so well received.

- It would be then that the brothers would break their silence and distance in an attempt to get the full picture to her intentions and as to how it transpired.

- At first Vanifinwë would have ignored the letters that came, getting one from each brother. Some congratulatory, others calculated and accusatory and prying for information leaving her conflicted.

- Even blatantly asking her if she had done this in an attempt to get into Doriath and capture a Silmaril. Leaving her disgusted that some of them could be so blinded by the Oath to not see how she had done this for herself.

- Dior would certainly let her know she was under no obligation to have to write any of them back.

- Biting his tongue to include the treatment of his mother by her two brothers and the crimes they committed. Knowing he needed to let Vanifinwë come to that conclusion.

- It would be a lengthy letter from Maedhros that would finally prompt her to write him back and no one else.

- She would explicitly tell them her intentions with Dior and how much she loved him, and that she didn’t want them in their lives if they were still overly obsessed with getting a stupid rock such as the Silmaril.

- Vanifinwë berate a few of her brothers in the letter to Maedhros over what she received. Reminding them all that she took no part in the Oath and would not enact in such machinations over it. Nor did she seek out to try and take Doriath for herself.

- Maedhros, for the most part would respect her letter and not write to her again. Urging that their brothers do the same and leave her to her life with Dior.

Way 1 ->

- They would leave her to live her life in marital and familial bliss with Dior, content that she is in love with him. As well as that she has her hands on a Silmaril. Drastically changing and preventing a Kinslaying from ever happening.

- With ties semi renewed with a few siblings, such as Maedhros and Maglor, to comfortably write letters to them detailing her life to them. Announcing pregnancies and names of their niece and nephews.

- The rest of her brothers hearing this only secondhand, with some rebuttal and angry responses that they were not more involved. Or that she was left in charge of keeping a Silmaril.

- Changing the entire fate of Doriath and its fall.

Way 2 ->

- She instead receives warning, after warning, after warning of her brothers telling her to either return the Silmaril or regardless of her kinship, she would have to face them in person.

- Leaving her to fret and worry and tell Dior, and never writing to her brothers again. Hoping that they would not go so far.

- Until she is forced to face them in a final confrontation and Doriath meeting its doom at the hands of the Feanorians.

- Leaving Vanifinwë to watch everything she built with Dior crash and burn hard, even to her own children, until she is met with one of her brothers and their followers to her own doom.

* * *

Tags: @saviorsong , @lilmelily , @dicksoutformtl , @fandomhoe101 , @icarus-fell-in-spring , @iwenttomordor , @red-riding , @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma

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