Caranthir for @feanorianweek.
Inspired by a scene from my fic What Fades Away.
Excerpt:
“What is it, Moryo?” Maitimo finally asked, when Carnistir showed no sign that he would continue on his own.
“It is not fair that grandmother Miriel cannot return,” his said, his voice faltering as though he was admitting something very grave. The source of his solemnity was revealed when he continued, “If grandfather Finwë had not married Indis, then she could be with us.”
Makalaurë sucked in a sharp breath, and his eyes were heavy when they met Maitimo’s. Neither of them spoke at first, for each of them had their own conflicting emotions to sort through at the raising of this issue. But when Carnistir shrank down on the stool as if fearing their censure, they pulled themselves together.
Maitimo’s voice grew delicate, each word formed with care. “Although you may find them tiresome at times, would you wish that your uncles and cousins did not exist at all?”
Carnistir’s flushed cheeks paled. “No, I wouldn’t wish that.”
“So some good did come of it, you see.”
“But we will never meet our grandmother Miriel.”
“Oh, Moryo,” Makalaurë said tenderly. “It seems strange to miss someone you have never met, but so it is, and we miss her, too, and long for what might have been.”
Maitimo nodded in agreement with Makalaurë, but he was troubled. He could not help but feel as if he had been dishonest with Carnistir, somehow.
Although he did not regret that his grandfather had been allowed to remarry, allowing their family to grow and become enriched, he felt it an unnecessary cruelty that his grandmother should be forbidden to return because of it. The Valar claimed it was the will of Eru, and though it was not Maitimo’s place to gainsay them, he did wonder how this could be true because of the grief it caused.
It was while Maitimo stood lost in his thoughts that Carnistir finally unburdened himself.
“I did something very wrong.” Carnistir would look at neither of his brothers, dropping his head again as he stroked the cat.
Maitimo raised his eyebrows at Makalaurë, who only shrugged. He tried to keep his trepidation out of his voice when he spoke.
“What did you do?”
At the same time, Makalaurë asked, “You mean, to those children?”
Carnistir shook his head. “I took something from Atar’s study.”
Maitimo’s eyebrows rose even higher, and Makalaurë gaped in surprise, but as it was obvious that Carnistir meant to go on, they said nothing.
Carnistir sighed and shifted on the stool, careful not to tip the cat off his lap as he reached into one of the pockets stitched onto his loose tunic. He pulled out a silver chain, lifting it until a large oval locket slipped out of the pocket and hung spinning in the air.
“Oh,” Makalaurë said.
They knew this locket well. They had all seen Atar holding it in his study when the occasional quiet, somber mood came over him. At some time or another, each of them had opened the locket to see for themselves what it held, or asked Atar to show them. It contained a miniature portrait of Miriel and a twisted lock of silver hair that glinted like starlight.
“I just wanted to feel closer to grandmother Miriel. But now I am worried that Atar will notice the locket is gone before I can put it back, and he will be angry with me.”
“I don’t think Atar will be angry with you for taking this, especially once he understands why you took it,” Maitimo hurried to reassure his little brother. “You must give it back to him as soon as we return home, of course, but I will talk to him first before you go to see him.”
Maitimo would have to decide how much to tell Atar, because he did not wish to upset him any more than he had to.
He didn’t think the children who had questioned Carnistir meant any harm, likely only curious and repeating things they had heard adults say. It was unfortunate timing that their questioning had come while Carnistir was struggling with personal issues.
Makalaure seemed satisfied with this, and he stood, gesturing for Carnistir to stand as well. “I think Nelyo is right. Atar will be pleased that you wish to feel closer to grandmother Miriel. Perhaps you could take up embroidery, and learn the skill that was her delight.”
Carnistir stood and set the cat on the floor, where it wound around his legs and meowed in complaint. Determination burned in Carnistir’s eyes now, and he said, “Yes, I would like that.”
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