Something Stronger by Tehta

Chapter 2

The darkness surrounding Laurefindil was not true darkness, not as it had been at that first shocking moment when all light had been drained from the world. Only the shadows recalled that original unlight -- the shadows thrown on the walls and in dark corners by the many torches now held in people’s hands, or hastily attached to buildings.

The mood of the milling crowd was different, as well: yes, many of their voices still conveyed confusion, but the accompanying terror had been replaced by excitement. Which made sense: for how could one help feeling thrilled when living through such an important moment? Actually experiencing it, rather than hearing about it?

Speaking of which... Laurefindil raised his own torch high, and glanced around seeking the distinctive figure of his patron -- his friend.

True, he himself had seen much tonight: his seat halfway up a statue symbolising Dignity had been rather cleverly chosen, yielding a clear view of the speeches, the arguments, and that blood-chilling Vow. But Aikanáro -- Aikanáro had been right there, at the thick of it! He would have witnessed everything, even the half-voiced asides; would be able to explain the subtleties.

“Here! Laurefindil!”

And there he was, striding through the crowd, his pose mirrorring Laurefindil’s -- though the light raised in his hand was not a smoky torch, but a Feanorian lamp.

“Aikanáro!” Laurefindil hurried towards him. “So, Middle-earth, after all! But how did your uncle know all these things, about the Valar, and the new Children? And the way your cousins spoke, in unison… Do you think that took much rehear--”

“Hold on a moment. I need your help.”

The unexpected, sincere plea made Laurefindil feel selfish, and ashamed of his importunate questions. “I am happy to offer it, of course. What can I do?”

“Find me some paper. And, you know, writing things,” replied Aikanáro. “I need to send a letter.”

“I brought my small sketch pad.” Laurefindil retrieved it from his sleeve. “A bit ridiculous of me, really, given the lack of light, but--”

“Thank you. Here, turn around, and-- But no, bring your torch up, just so...”

Under Aikanáro’s instructions, Laurefindil assumed a hunched-over posture that turned him into a makeshift writing desk, one with a handy light fixture. Soon, he could hear the scrape of a pen being hastily run over paper.

“Who are you writing to?” he could not help asking.

“Aurewen.” Aikanáro’s voice was abstracted.

“Ah.” Was it a love letter, then? The pen’s scratchings did seem to be getting more vigorous. “Are you... asking her to join you?”

“What?” The pen paused. “No, no, of course not. This will be a military campaign. Even Findaráto says that an army is no place for a noble Vanya, and he is actually betrothed to Amarië.”

“Is he asking Amarië to wait, then?”

“He hopes she can follow later. Once Morgoth has been, you know, crushed beneath our...” Aikanáro’s voice faded away. “Wait, is there an ‘a’ in ‘responsibilities’?”

“What? No.”

“Oh, too bad.” After a few more brief pen-strokes, and then a lengthy flourish that could only be an aristocrat’s signature, the pressure on Laurefindil’s back eased. He straightened up, stretching.

“All right, then.” Aikanáro rolled up the paper. “I suspect she will be at her grandfather’s house: his Eagle-watching tower is very defensible. But if I am wrong, surely someone there will be able to tell you--”

“Me?”

“Who else?” Aikanáro’s crooked smile was a quick flash in the dark. “You are the best -- no, the only -- person in Valinor suitable for this task. You will be able to convey my sincerest regrets, explain the demands placed upon me by my birthright, and to-- Oh, you know what to say.”

“I do. But--” Although the implicit trust felt very gratifying, the errant went against all of Laurefindil’s own desires. “Look, you are setting me among the Vanyar just when I am feeling more Noldorin than ever. I long to go to Middle-earth! With you!”

“And you shall.” This time the bright smile lingered, broad and confident. “A host this large cannot move very fast. You will catch up long before anything important happens.”