Fool's Hope by Gwenniel

Fool's Hope

Fool's Hope

Day after day, each evening he would stand gazing into the far distance, to the North Horizon where the shadows of three great peaks were dimly seen before they would dissolve into the black sky, the background that came with night. Day after day, each day his thoughts would stray, wander to Maitimo, wonder how he was, wonder what he was thinking of.

Turukáno was not surprised, but he could not suppress the anxiety he felt for his older brother. Findekáno would hardly come to dine with them unless he was asked to, rather wandering by the lakeshore, waiting, Turukáno supposed, for someone who would not be released, who would not return. Even Maitimo's brothers had seemed to given up hope of reuniting. And yet Findekáno, his grey eyes fixed to the horizon did not falter in hope.
"If I give up hope, then who will be left who believes in his return?" Findekáno said to his brother as they stood watching at the new moon in the sky.

"Brother, I do not want to see you sorrowful," Turukáno said gently. "You said it to me on the ice and back then I did not believe you, but now I do and I repeat it to you – you have to keep on moving towards where there still is something. And yes, it still hurts, hurts so much, when I think of Elenwë, but I know now I cannot linger in a reality long gone. If not for my own sake, then for Itarillë's."

"But if there was a chance to save Elenwë," Findekáno replied, "you would save her, wouldn't you? By the Valar, I know you would and so would I, for your sake."

"Yes," Turukáno sighed, his throat clenching. "Of course. But there isn't a way. She dwells in Mandos. And Maitimo is in Angband."

"And yet..." Findekáno mumbled softly, lowering his gaze, falling into his thoughts, and again Turukáno felt as if his brother no longer listened to him, as if he but dwelled in his past, his eyes looking at the lake and yet seeing memories of fair fields in Valinor, of secret hunting trips done in leisure time, of times before jewels, before fire and ice. Isolating himself from his family, making his brother lose yet another person who stood close to him.

"Findekáno!" Turukáno said, feeling almost distraught. "Why pursue a foolish dream? Dream of it, but do not linger in it. You think of the dead as if you could bring them back."

"You think of the living as if they were dead."

Turukáno snapped his mouth shut. "Some are, brother. Remember? Some are! If your love hadn't left you, my love might not be dead. And he might not be lost, either!" He was breathing heavily.

Findekáno opened his eyes and for the first time in their discussion he actually looked at his sibling. Turukáno looked back, clenching his teeth. "Fire, fire, that was all he left you, was it not? If he is lost, why linger? Ice, ice, that is what I have left of my wife who died because of the ships on fire... only she has moved on to Mandos, and so shall I move on in Middle-Earth."

"Macalaurë said Maitimo would not have had the ships burnt," Findekáno muttered, as if to himself, but to Turukáno he added: "Maitimo is not dead. I know it. As long as he lives, I shall not give up my hope of reunion."

Turukáno said nothing, but sighed. He should not deny his brother the hope he kept holding on to, but he feared losing him, feared Findekáno would only end up facing sorrow and disappointment. And having himself lost something he loved, he could but envy that someone still else harboured such faith.

"You really still care for him." His voice was shaking, he knew.

"As you loved Elenwë..."

"...I loved her more than I can put into words..."

"...so do I love him."

Again those eyes stared into the distance, seeing not the hard lands North, but instead a copper hair, a gentle smile under a golden tree.
Turukáno left him.

And the next morning Findekáno was gone. And Turukáno, as he stood hand in hand with Itarillë in the same spot where he had last seen Findekáno, knew that the last thing he had said to his brother was that he was pursuing a foolish dream, a dream of fire, a dream without hope. Now Findekáno was lost and Turukáno guessed where he had gone off to. Was it still a fool's hope to wish that his brother would return home safely?

*

Then, days after days as Turukáno had waited, and Findekáno finally returned, it was as if spring had descended, the fire having dimmed into a kind warmth that brought back the smile onto Findekáno's lips. Turukáno had almost forgotten that smile, but it came back to him as he saw his brother light in his eyes again, cradling Maitimo in his arms.

"You did not give up on your hope," Turukáno said, as he stood in the doorway to the room where Maitimo had been prepared a bed as soon as the joyous tidings of his return had arrived.

Findekáno looked up, and smiled. "No, I didn't," he said. "But I do not blame you for mistrusting my hope. It was, as you said, based on a foolish dream." He brushed strands of russet hair from Maitimo's forehead, as he looked away from his brother.

"I am sorry for what I said before you left," Turukáno sighed. "I hold neither of you to blame for what happened to Elenwë. And now that... that you are back, grudges shall be... put aside. Looking at the future rather than linger in the past, especially now that the future seems a little bit brighter."

Maitimo opened his eyes, slowly, adjusting himself to the bright light shining into the room through the windows facing south. As he saw Turukáno, he smiled faintly in recognition. As he tilted his head, he saw Findekáno and closed his eyes again, but his smile softened, widened, his body relaxing. Findekáno was holding Maitimo's left hand in his own, smiling as well. The scene was so peaceful, Turukáno stepped away from the doorway, shutting the door behind him. Even as he closed it, he saw Maitimo opening his eyes again and Findekáno leaning down.

A fool's dream had brought his brother back, Turukáno supposed. His own dream could not bring back what he loved, though.

He clenched his fists. But he shouldn't deny his brother the happiness he deserved and earned by going through terror greater than Turukáno himself had probably ever even faced. Leaning towards the wall, he closed his eyes. Maybe a fool's hope could have saved Elenwë as well. Maybe some luck could have helped her... but it was too late now. No, Turukáno would rather feel happy for his brother's sake than think about this.

One day, after all, when his world turned black and his heartbeat ceased, he would reunite with Elenwë. One day, he would reunite with her again, just like Findekáno had reunited with Maitimo.