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tilions · 3 years

Text

A life saved

A Feanor lives AU... more or less. No he's not a ghost in this one. English is not my first language and a large portion of this text was translated from my mother tongue German into English so if some things like metaphors seem weird to you that might be why. I also aplogise for any errors.

There was nobody welcoming them when Nolofinwe and his followers arrived on the northern side of Lake Mithrim. Not that they should have expected this much from Feanáro to begin with. Instead of wasting time waiting for those too proud to come they started setting up their camp and began restocking their food and water supplies as best as they could with their limited resources.

But when the third and fourth day had come to pass without a single word from the camp on the other side of the lake it was not only Nolofinwe who grew tense. When he made his rounds through the rows of tents to look after the injured or to speak with the few scouts they could spare he could hear the people mutter the same things that were going through his own head.

Shouldn’t the Feanorians have noticed them by now? Was it not enough that they had abandoned them in the first place? Left them to fend for themselves? To take on the risk of crossing the grinding ice? Did they have to ignore them even now? Or was the king perhaps absent, so that it was unclear whether they should be approached at all? But even then, Maitimo was not the sort of person who would act like this.

The fifth day had to begin before there was any change to their situation and it was Irisse who brought it upon them in her usual stubborn manner. Nolofinwe watched her drag Tyelkormo of all people from the west side of their camp all the way to where he was standing, watching Isil rise. Huan was trotting after them leisurely, a stark contrast to his master who was complaining loudly about the way he was being treated.

Irisse ignored him and only pulled harder in his arm, her face very much like her mothers when she was angry. For all the noise he was making Tyelkomro was surprisingly tame and went with his cousin rather willingly. He did not even try to bolt when they stopped in front of Nolofinwe and Irisse let go of his arm.

‘Now talk,’ she said and left them to their own devices. Both Tyelkomo and Nolofinwe watched her as she vanished between the tents, her white dress stained with grass and dirt. As Nolofinwe turned his head to look at Tyelkomo he noticed that his nephew's clothes were similarly looking. He did not even need to ask how Irisse had gotten him here.

When it became very clear that she would not return, Tyelkormo turned his head and looked up into his half uncle's face with a look of great discomfort.

‘And?’ he asked, less sharp than normal, ‘What is it that you want to know?’

'Answers for a start,' Nolofinwe found himself replying. Upon closer observation of his nephew’s face he noticed a faint scar above his left eye that had not been there when they had last seen each other.

‘Well they were too frail,’ was all that Tyelkormo said as if the answer was enough in his mind. It was not for Nolofinwe, a fact that the other one quickly realised. He seemed even more uncomfortable than before and only when Huan laid his head on Tyelkormo’s shoulder and nuzzled the right side of his face he replied reculantly: ‘The boats. They were too frail to cross the sea, technically. It’s a miracle we made it work but they wouldn’t have survived another journey. You don’t have to believe me but I can tell you from what I have seen that you would have been lucky to catch a glimpse of them on the far horizon before they would have fallen apart.’

‘The Teleri are… were very well known to keep their ships in good shape. why then should they let boats like this rest in their havens?’

He was aware that Tylekormo, who never had been overly fond of boating, was the last person who could know the answer to this question. Yet Nolofinwe felt the need to ask anyway. Arafinwe would have known surely but Arafinwe was not here with him but on the other side, in Tirion. Instead of an answer all Tylekormo was able to do was flinch when his uncle mentioned the Teleri and bite his lower lip.

Then after they had stood in silence for a while and that silence became uncomfortable he lifted his shoulders and with a defeated tone in his voice he said: ‘What do I know? All I can tell you is what I already have said. They were too frail. One of them nearly sank to the bottom of the ocean during the journey here because it started falling apart. If Aiwë.. Curvo's wife hadn't been there, we wouldn't have been able to fix it in time.'

Ñolofinwë refrained from asking why Curufinwës Telerin wife had decided to accompany her husband even though he had been part of the slaughtering of her kin. He could see that Tyelkormo's patience was running thin. A question like this could end their conversation in a very short amount of time.

'And how did your father expect us to follow him?' he asked instead.

'Not at all,’ Tyelkormo said. ‘Father mentioned something like this but I wasn’t really paying attention.’

It was very much like Tyelkormo to not pay attention and that was not what surprised Nolofinwe. It was the fact that Feanáro had expected him to turn back. Had he not told his brother that he would follow him?

"He wanted us to turn back?"

"Turn back, return home, well whatever. You hardly had any part in... what happened. They probably would have forgiven you."

We didn’t participate. They will forgive us, Nolo.

Arafinwe's voice rang clear in his head and Nolofinwe could barely hold back a flinch on his own. For once his brothers seemed to have thought alike and he could not disagree more with their notions. He was here for a reason and because of a promise he made. He could not just turn back.

It was then that Huan, who had been quiet the entire time and had been resting his chin on Tyelkormo’s shoulder, made a small noise, which Nolofinwe could not quite identify. Tyelkormo petted his head and nodded as if he had understood what his companion wanted to tell him. The uncomfortable look on his face vanished for a moment.

‘I know, Káno wanted us to be back yesterday…,’ he said, then he smiled a little. ‘You just want to see Tyelpe again, don’t you?’

Once again Huan made a noise and this time it sounded like agreement to Nolofinwe.

'You could come with me,' Tyelkormo then addressed Nolofinwe again and he looked like he thought this was a very good idea, 'if you want to talk to someone who is more informed than me.'

Preferably he would have liked the Feanorians to come, for then it would not have looked as if Nolofinwe would give in, but it seemed to him that this would take days perhaps even weeks and he simply did not have the time for this.

'I want to inform Findekáno before we leave.'

'Mhm,' was all his nephew replied and proceeded to scratch Huan behind the ear.

Soon enough they were on their way around the lake to the Feanorian camp. Neither Findekáno nor Turukáno had been particularly happy about Nolofinwe’s announcement but for different reasons as it seemed. Findekáno most certainly had hoped to accompany his father so that he could have a word with Maitimo but Nolofinwe had been clear that he needed his eldest son here to aid his aunt. Turukáno on the other hand had looked like somebody had served him a cup of sour milk as soon as the name Tyelkormo had left his fathers mouth. He was still grieving and full of hatred.

It was Findaráto who made them agree in the end as he promised to go along with Nolofinwe as a representative of the House Arafinwe. If he would have been able to have things his way Nolofinwe would have told this one of his nephews to remain behind but alas Findaráto could be just as stubborn as any of their family when he wanted to. Besides he also had inherited his mothers ability to become menacingly scary when he really wanted to bring a point across in an argument. Nolofinwe did not want this to happen.

‘I did know that grandfather was reluctant to use the ships,’ Findaráto remarked once Tyelkormo was done telling him what he had told Nolofinwe before. ‘They were treated like holy artifacts by many of the older generation, so it would make sense to have them on display and not use them. They fell apart, yes? I guess the wood here on these shores is not made to last forever like it did at home…’

Nolofinwe remained silent. He was vibrating with tension. The anger at his brother, though somewhat mitigated by Tyelkormo's words, was still boiling under his skin and he had to prepare himself not to explode the moment he saw him. He could just be as fiery as his brother if the occasion arose. Many would have doubted this because he put a lot of effort in his calm and put-together appearance. It was a trait both of them had inherited from their father although Finwe had been very good at turning his temperament into passion.

Nolofinwe bit his lower lip. No, it was still too early to think about father.

Carnistir was the one waiting for them once they reached the outskirts of the Feanorian camp. Nolofinwe noticed almost immediately that many of the buildings were in fact made from wood or stone. There were only a few tents left standing. The pathway they set foot onto was also made with stone. His brother’s people had not been idle in the last years.

‘You’re late,’ Carnistir greeted Tyelkomo unimpressed and with his arms folded in front of his chest.

His trademark frown was not missing either, yet there was something off about him but it took Nolofinwe a few seconds to realise that Carnistir had cut off a large chunk of his hair. Automatically he looked over to Tyelkormo and noticed the same thing. Both men's hair barely reached their shoulders now. He wondered what had caused this drastic decision, for it was very un-Noldorin to cut off one's own hair unless it got burned or otherwise stained in an accident. Neither Tyelkomo nor Carnistir looked like they had been in an accident recently but Nolofinwe did not know what had happened in the past years.

‘I would have been back earlier if Irisse hadn’t found me and decided to drag me all the way back to her father, so that I could have the conversation with him all of you are refusing to have,’ Tyelkomo replied.

Carnistir only sighed.

‘Discuss this with Káno if you wish to complain.’

This made Tyelkormo go silent within a split second. Findaráto and Nolofinwe exchanged confused glances. Neither of them could make anything of the conversation that was happening in front of them.

‘I see, well if you don’t have anything more to say,’ Carnistir turned to them and bowed formally. ‘Uncle, cousin, please follow me. He would like to speak with you in person.’

He started moving almost immediately and at a fast pace at that. They followed him as best as they could with Tyelkormo and Huan behind them. The way they were led through the settlement - because upon further inspection and observation Nolofinwe opted that it was in fact more a settlement than a camp - made them visible and unable to ignore for many eyes. Their presence was not met with hostility or any form of annoyance but rather with curiosity and calm acceptance. Nolofinwe did not know whether he prefered their rather passive behaviour.

‘Where are you bringing us?” Findaráto asked and caught up to Carnistir.

‘The community hall… well it is supposed to be the community hall but these days it serves as an infirmary.’

‘Neither of us is wounded…’ Findaráto said and Nolofinwe could hear the irritation in his voice.

‘Well that’s good for you,’ Carnistir acknowledged. ‘But this is also where he wants to meet you. His study is in one of the spare rooms.’

They were led through a side entrance of one of the larger buildings near the town centre. It was nowhere near as impressive as the buildings Nolofinwe had seen and grown up in all his life but it was rather admirable what had been accomplished with the recousers given to them. He should have expected nothing else from his brother. The room they entered was some sort of dining space with a large wooden table right in the middle surrounded by what looked like ten chairs. One for each member of the house Feanor, including Curufinwes wife and child.

‘Where is he?’, Carnister asked one of the guards hiding in the shadows next to the door. The man made a step forwards into the light and Nolofinwe recognised him as Makalaures confidant Erestor.

‘His study,’ the man replied in his usual stoic manner. ‘A report came in this morning regarding enemy movements in the north-west. He wanted to look into what he can do to keep the residents safe.’

The residents, Nolofinwe realised, were his people. They were the only ones living in the north-west - as far as he was aware. If there was enemy movement he should probably also keep his people prepared no matter what his brother planned to do to keep them safe. It seemed like a miracle to him that Feanáro was even considering this given that he had wanted Nolofinwe and his people to turn back and had ignored them for the better part of the past week.

Carbistir just nodded.

'I see,' he noted the news and turned to the others, 'Come. And Tyelko if you want to tag along, you'll have to leave the fleabag here.'

'You know Huan doesn't like it when you call him that, Moryo.'

'He's just a dog. He doesn't care about what I call him. He cares about what I feed him.'

'Say that when he starts chewing on your shoes again.'

Nonetheless he told Huan to go and lay down on a large rug on the north side of the hall where a small fire burned in a chimney, while Carnistir led them through a door on the opposite side of the hall.

The study they entered then was… a mess if Nolofinwe was completely honest. It was a battlefield of papers, documents, books and various other objects buried underneath them. There was not one empty chair, not one empty spot of floor aside from a small area by the door. The dark wooden desk in the centre of the room was no exception to this. Nolofinw had seen massive amounts of paperwork in his fathers study all the time but Finwe despite his faults had been a very tidy person and had kept them all neatly organised. Feanáro on the other hand had never seemed like someone who would keep things tidy - not the Nolofinwe would know this, he had not been allowed to set his foot into his older brother's study ever in his life.

But this was not Feanáro’s study. On the floor in front of them, bent over an especially important looking paper sat not Nolofinwe’s brother but his second eldest nephew instead. Makalure was dressed in heavy looking robes of red and gold but they fitted him ill for they seemed like they had originally belonged to his father and Feanáro was not only taller than Makalaure but also broader. Loosley they hang from his shoulders and Nolofinwe could not get out of his way to notice that his nephew was thin and boney underneath.

‘You own a table, Káno,’ Tyelkomo commented on his older brother’s app and waved his hand in the general direction of said object. Makalure looked up then with an unimpressed expression on his face.

‘Well in theory you are correct but as you may be able to see, it is not in a state where I could use it.’

‘You could if you would keep things tidy and organised,’ Carnistir then said and started picking up some of the papers close to them. ‘Didn’t the Ambarussar volunteer to craft you some shelves from the wood that was left from building the watchtower in the south?’

Makalaure nodded.

‘Yes they did such a splendid job that I thought it a shame to waste such craftsmanship on me. I ordered Narendil to make sure that they’re brought to the infirmary so that the healers would have a safe place to store their medicine. I think Curvo got one as well for his tools. You know that he leaves them lying around everywhere otherwise,’ Makalure said and then he turned towards Nolofinwe and Findaráto who had listened to their exchange in silence. ‘Uncle, Findaráto, if you’d like to sit down I can only offer you the chairs by the window. You might want to remove the papers from them though…’

They did no such thing.

Makalaure looked back and forth between them and his brothers for a moment. Carnistir had proceeded to pick up some more papers from the floor, quietly fussing over how such important documents were left to fly around. Tyelkormo had stepped up to one of the windows and pulled open the curtains, allowing natural light to reach the small room.

When they had all not spoken for a while and the silence was beginning to get a little uncomfortable, Findaráto spoke for the first time:

‘Káno... where is...?’

‘Father?’ Makalaure interrupted him instantly, ‘you were expecting him here, weren't you?’

‘To be honest, yes…’, Nolofinwe pressed out. Carnistir and Tyelkormo paused in their work, exchanging meaningful glances. Makalaure sighed.

‘Well..’ he said, looking him in the eye, ‘then I'm sorry to disappoint you. Father is not available at the moment.’

‘Is he absent?’ asked Nolofinwe with a little more emphasis. Didn't they say they were going to take them to the king? Was he being made a fool of?

‘You could say that, yes.’

‘And Maitimo?’

This time Makalure remained silent for a long while. He had closed his eyes and Nolofinwe could see how the hand holding onto the papers was slightly shaking. When Findaráto looked questioningly at Carnistir and Tyelkormo both of them avoided his gaze. In the end Makalure slowly came to his feet. He handed his papers to Carnistir and then proceeded to fix his clothing so that it looked less ill-fit but still a little big on him.

As he then stood face to face with his uncle Nolofinwe could not help but notice that Makalaure was not only thinner than before but he looked tired, too tired. Whatever had happened had drained Makalaure to a point where it seemed like a miracle that he was still able to stand upright.

'Maitimo is also not available at the moment…’

‘Is he dead?’ Nolofinwe came straight to the point.

Makalaure swallowed but then he shook his head avoiding his uncle's eyes.

‘We don’t know. It… it was shortly after our arrival that we received a message from the enemy which said that he would be open to negotiate. I do not know the details, Maitimo kept them for himself but he rode out to meet with an envoy… and did not return. It was many days later that a messenger came telling us that everyone is dead and he brought a bloodied strand of Maitomos hair as evidence. I would have gone after him but he made me swear to remain behind and take care of our people.’

‘So you do not believe him dead?’

‘I would have felt it, uncle,’ Makalure answered. ‘Just like with grandfather… I didn’t feel anything like this this time around. It must mean that he still lives.’

And I am unable to help him.

He did not say this out loud but Nolofinwe could see it in his eyes. The oath Makalaure had to swear seemed to only increase the guilt he must have been feeling.

‘Káno… perhaps you should,’ Carnistir said as he balanced another stack of papers on the desk.

‘No self-pity I know,’ Makalaure answered but it did not seem like this was what Carnistr had wanted to say. Yet he straightened his back and put on a brave face. He even smiled a bit at his uncle and Findaráto, ‘If there is anything you need please tell me, I will make sure that we will spare what we can and have it delivered to your side of the lake. In the same manner I wish to apologise for not reaching out earlier. The last few days were rather troublesome…’

‘I would have to look at Turukáno's lists of supplies…’ Findaráto said and looked past Tylekormo out of the window.

‘Medicines,’ Nolofinwe said, thinking of Lalwende, who desperately needed something for her leg if she didn't want to lose it, ‘and bandages.’

Makalaure looked at Carnistir.

‘Come, cousin,’ he said to Findaráto without being prompted any further, ‘I am in charge of our supplies. We will see how best to manage the matter. Tyelko can help too. He knows about the best hunting grounds in the area and will surely be able to give you some advice.’

Makalaure watched them silently as they departed from the room and when the door closed behind Tyelkormo he turned to Nolofinwe.

'Do not apologise for your father's deeds,' Nolofinwe said before his nephew even had the opportunity to open his mouth. 'I have heard why you didn't send back the ships. I wish to hear what your father has to say in his defense and whether he feels sorry for it or not.'

'Then you will probably never get an answer,' Makalaure said gravely. He pressed his lips into a thin line and turned to the second door in this room, left to where he was standing 'Come, uncle I will show you something. Maybe then you will hear my apology.'

Nolofinw was not sure what he should expect when he followed his nephew through the door and into a barely lit hallway. The voices of Carnisti, Tyelkormo and Findaráto could be heard from down the hall, where somebody had left a door slightly ajar. Makalaure did not lead him in that direction but the opposite one and up to the next floor. Like the one downstairs this one was only sparsely lit but at least there was a window on the far end of the hallway from where silver light shone onto dark wooden planks. They made creaking noises even under the light elven footsteps. Nolofinwe flinched the first time he heard that noise.

Makalaure walked down the corridor at a quick pace, unmoved by the creaking wooden floorboards. He seemed determined to waste no time to get to their destination. Nolofinwe followed him in a similar manner once he had gotten used to the unsettling noise from below his feet.

Once they reached the window Makalaure halted and looked outside. Nolofinwe glanced over his shoulder and saw Curufinwe training with his son in the courtyard. Tyelperinquar had grown quite a bit since Nolofinwe had last seen him but even though he and Itarille were around the same age the boy looked less mature than Nolofinwe’s granddaughter. It seemed as if his childhood innocence had somehow been preserved in these wild lands.

It made jealousy boil inside him but he was quick to suppress it. Tyelperinquar had no fault in what had happened. It was a good thing that at least one child of their family was still child enough to smile and fool around. Maybe one day Itarille would find the strength and happiness to smile once more.

‘You did not bring me here only to watch your nephew train,’ it was not a question or at least it did not sound like one as the words left Nolofinwe’s mouth. He was not quite sure himself whether he had wanted the words to sound as impatient and stern as they did but they seemed to bring Makalaure out of some kind of trance he had drifted into.

‘No… of course not, uncle,’ he answered and stepped past Nolofinwe in front of the last door in this hallway.

He turned the door knob around and pushed the door open. Nolofinwe followed him inside what seemed like a private sleeping chamber. It was better lit than any other room he had seen so far in this house including Makalaure’s study, which was mostly because the curtains had been drawn back and the windows opened to let fresh air inside. Aside from a wardrobe on the left side of the door the room contained a cupboard underneath the windows, an unused desk to Nolofinwe’s right and a bed, half hidden behind a set of curtains, which Makalaure was pulling back.

Nolofinwe did not need to ask why his nephew had brought him here. He could not make out the patients face but the way Makalure sat down on their bedside and took one of the heavily bandaged hands into his with utmost care and started to stroke it gently with index and middle finger was enough to tell Nolofinwe that this was not just somebody.

‘I’m here…’ Makalaure said quietly, almost in a whisper. ‘Please forgive that I could not make it this morning. I heard that Ambarussar came to spend time with you.’

Nolofinwe carefully stepped closer to the bed until he was half behind Makalaure and could look over his nephew’s shoulder at the patient. It took him longer than it should have to realise whom he was looking at. The man's entire body, save for a few bits here and there, seemed to be wrapped in bandages and what little skin was left visible was burned and bruised and scarred. Half his face was hidden underneath some kind of paste and his eyes closed.

‘Feanáro…’ Nolofinwe whispered in shock once his voice had returned to him. Makalaure turned his head with a sad smile.

‘Father is unavailable at the moment, uncle,’ his nephew told him quietly. ‘It’s not as bad as it was at the beginning and he is slowly, ever so slowly getting better but it will take some time until he will open his eyes again. But even if he does there is no guarantee he will ever fully recover.’

Feanáro’s hand twitched in Makalaure’s hold. Makalaure turned to his father again and lowered his head ever so slightly.

‘It was only a few days ago, when you and your people arrived that he moved… it was just a twitch of his fingers no stronger than now but he moved. There… There was finally some sign of progress.’

‘How? When? Did the enemy?’

Makalaure gave him no answer but continued to absently stroke Feanáro’s hand. Nolofinwe did not press him. It seemed like this was not an easy talk to have and given the circumstances Nolofinwe was willing to accept this.

‘It was the enemy…’ Makalaure said after a while, his voice void of any emotion. ‘They had planned an ambush and even though we were able to fight them back there were many losses and many more who were gravely injured. Father had been at the front fighting against so many of them at the same time. He slew a large number of the Valaraukar - as Maitimo called them - but their commander was too strong for him. He landed a fatal blow mere minutes before we chased them off for good. At first it seemed like that monster had killed father but he kept fighting and breathing long enough for us to bring him to safety. He has been in this state ever since.’

Nolofinwe had to look away at that. He had no words, he who always knew what to say, who was known for his way with words, had none. All the anger, all the hatred that had been driving him the entire time was gone. The words he had prepared years ago, that he had memorized like a mantra, felt hollow now that there was essentially no one to address them at. He could tell them Feanáro but what use would they have? His brother could not hear him. He could not answer him or give him one of the awfully arrogant smiles.

As a child Nolofinwe had done everything to earn one of these. As a young adult he had learned to despise them. But now? Now, he would be lucky to receive a slight twitch of Feanaŕos hand. That was much more cruel than anything his brother could have said to him. It didn't compare to what his brother had done, of course, but it was pretty close.

'Do… Do you want me to pity him?'

Makalaure shock his head

'Believe me uncle I do not. He wouldn't want your pity and you know that. I wanted you to understand that the only apology you will probably ever get is my own. Will you accept it?'

'Your father wouldn't have wanted you to apologise,' Nolofinwe replied. Makalure made a low chuckling noise.

'But I want to apologise. It will not bring back the dead, it will not heal the wounded, it will not rewind the years you and your people spend on the grinding ice and it will not undo what has been done but maybe an apology can help to bring our people back together ever so slightly. We're all strangers in a strange land and as such we have no choice but to stick together. You don't have to accept me as prince regent and I will not demand to lead your people, all I want is a basis on which we can work on the way forward.'

'Very well,' Nolofinwe replied. 'I shall accept your apology… for now.'

'This is more than I would have asked for, uncle.'

They both remained at Feanáro's bedside for a while longer in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Nolofinwe avoided looking at his brother or his nephew and held his gaze fixed on the window.

A basis to work on the way forward. Makalaure had not specified what this way would look like and Nolofinwe was not sure himself. His people were bitter. They felt betrayed and abandoned and he could not blame them. He felt very much the same even after learning this truth.

All he could hope for was that his nephew's words had not been all empty. Makalaure was an excellent talker and sometimes it was hard to differentiate between honest words and acting. He did not believe that his nephew had acted but he knew that he should remain observant.

'Don't tell anyone of what I have shown you today, uncle,' Makalure asked him when they finally left the room.

'For what reason?'

'Father is in a bad state and I feel it would only worsen if he was confronted with the anger of all your people. I will bear this burden until the day of his awakening. Besides… I have reason to believe that the enemy thinks him dead and I would like for it to remain that way for as long as possible.'

'I see," Nolofinwe remarked. 'I will do as you ask but only if you inform me immediately should he wake.'

Makalure nodded seriously.

When Nolofinwe returned to his camp late in the evening to eat and maybe get some rest, still very much thinking about his brother's fate and his nephew's wish for cooperation, he was greeted with even more unsettling news.

Apparently Findekáno had vanished without a trace and only his harp in tow after being told about Maitimo's fate from Finderáto. All he had left them was a note telling them not to worry and that he would be back soon.

Nolofinwe thought of what had happened to Arakáno and prayed that his eldest son would return safely to him.

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