Findis: On a Rock, Praying by Himring

A Season on Taniquetil

Fingon has settled back into life in Tirion for some time, learning to live without Maedhros. Now duty to a relative summons him into Vanyarin territory.

Set in Valinor after Fingon's re-embodiment, after the events of my story "The House that Fingon Built".

It was said that, if you started the climb in brand-new boots, however sturdy their soles, they would be worn through by the time you reached the top of Taniquetil. How often the truth of this had been tested, Fingon did not know. If the Valar did want you up there, they possessed devices as effective as any Feanorian contraption to achieve that end, for all that some parts were invisible.

But he was not attempting that climb today. He was merely scaling the lower slopes in order to reach the plateau where Findis lived the life of a hermit.

Many Vanyar believed that, through the ascetic life that Findis led, she was attempting to expiate the sins of all her family. Fingon doubted this—it had always been as impossible to keep Findis from meditating as Maglor from singing or Feanor from the forge. Nor did he feel especially pious as he took his turn, sweeping the hut, preparing the occasional meal and milking the goat. He had never really questioned his aunt’s holiness, but sometimes he was less sure what exactly that intense contemplation of hers had to do with the Valar or Eru—or with anything else.

Findis spent whole days and nights in rapture, perched unmoving on a rock, or on her knees in prayer. But when she awoke, she was quite willing to converse civilly with Fingon—she did not even prove impractical, as long as matters did not require her attention just when she was listening for something else only she could hear.

It was calm up there on the mountain, alone with the sun and the wind and the snow. The only occasional excitement was provided by the goat—who was just a goat and, like any goat, respected neither mystic nor prince.

When he left, Findis said: ‘Next time you come, bring that cousin of yours.’

‘Cousin?’ he asked.

Findis clicked her tongue impatiently. Minor details like names often escaped her.

‘The redhead—the one you love.’

He was taken completely by surprise. Long-unaccustomed tears rushed to his eyes.

‘I can’t. He hasn’t returned from Mandos.’

‘Pish’, said Findis indignantly, promising: ‘I’ll pray for him—and you.’

‘Will it help, praying?’

It was that important; he would never have been rude enough to ask, otherwise.

‘I have no idea’, answered Findis, with devastating honesty. ‘But it feels as if it ought to.’

Chapter End Notes

I thought I had already posted this one here, but when I tried to cross-refer to it, I could not find it. So I decided to post both pieces featuring Findis together.

Written for the International Day of Fanworks Challenge at the Library of Moria

The prompts (for which thanks to Tallulah) were: shoes, mountain, contraption