New Challenge: Potluck Bingo
Sit down to a delicious selection of prompts served on bingo boards, created by the SWG community.
In the end, Finwë did not visit with them, as Fëanáro had made certain to call him to his house on the very same day as when Indis and her children were set to visit the Halls. Indis tried not to let this bother her, and sensing her sadness, Findis and Ñolofinwë both doubled their efforts to make the visit enjoyable for her. They celebrated Faniel’s begetting day at the kind light of Telperion, and in turn Faniel made them both pleased with tales of her adventures in the Halls and showing them her own tapestries.
To Indis’s greatest relief, her children did not hate Míriel but took an immediate liking to her. Findis wanted to see the Halls of Vairë herself after learning of Míriel’s work, while Ñolofinwë asked Míriel about life in the eastern lands.
“She is everything I hoped Fëanáro could be as a brother!” Ñolofinwë whispered to Indis excitedly. “Can we not do an exchange?”
“And leave poor Faniel with him?”
As Indis’s children made up a game and chased one another around the lawn before the Halls, Indis sat next to Míriel on the steps and spun tales of how great Fëanáro had become in the eyes of the Noldor, so great and well-known he needed his father to help him with his work. It was partly true, as Fëanáro had his following, but it still stung Indis to look at her wife in the eye and lie.
*
Indis never thought she would be with child again, as Fëanáro seemed intent on pulling Finwë away from her as often as he could. But perhaps it was the comfort of knowing how much Findis and Ñolofinwë would stick by their siblings no matter their situation, that just thirty-four Valian years after Faniel’s birth, she found herself pregnant, and under one Valian year later became pregnant again.
Írimë and Arafinwë were her last two children. Írimë was as spirited as any Noldor, but unlike her fiery sister Findis, Írimë was far more like her father, a goofy child yet with a sunny disposition. She loved also all which concerned the spirit, and regularly attended the temples with her mother, locked in a trance by the prayers around her. She grew closest to Ñolofinwë, both enjoying their own inside jokes apart from the rest of the family, and her greatest love became dance.
Arafinwë, the only child of Indis to inherit her golden hair, too followed Indis and Írimë to the temples, and he was soft-spoken and wise even at a young age. Unlike Findis and Ñolofinwë he stayed far from the disputes with Fëanáro, for which he explained, “If someone already has decided they do not love you, can you ever really change their mind?” Írimë too stayed far, though when her half-brother was not looking she enjoyed to imitate his actions for the amusement of her other siblings.
When both children had learned of an older sister, they immediately wanted to meet her. Even without Finwë in the picture, Indis felt no lack at the love she had in her life, from Míriel all the way to her youngest child. At times she came back to live in her uncle’s house when it seemed Finwë had all but forgotten her, Fëanáro having so well lured him away from his other children. But ever was there love and support.
At times Nerdanel also came with them, which Indis suspected was to get away from her husband for a while.
“He wants more children,” Nerdanel had explained. “After Maitimo I do not think I will have any more.”
There was still love between Nerdanel and Fëanáro, but Indis sensed the man’s inner fire was becoming too much for both his wife and child. Maitimo, who Indis knew was being taught smith work by his father, was always at least a little polite whenever his father’s back was turned; but a day came when he refused to even look at Indis. She hated to imagine Fëanáro being too hard on his only son.
*
The children of Indis, Nerdanel concluded, were far beyond unhinged, all of them. Their carriage, controlled by Findis, bulleted through the streets at such speed she was shocked they had not run over any elf. Indis was staying by her uncle for the time being while Fëanáro visited his father, and they were to retrieve Indis before heading for the Halls of Vairë.
With a grinding screech the carriage halted right outside the door of the golden and white palace.
“Mother! We are here!” Findis’s voice shook the otherwise silence of the calm city. “Come on!”
Indis poked her head through an open window three stories above. “A moment, please!”
“No moments!” Findis cried.
“I’ll get her!” Írimë sang, and hopping out of the carriage, she ran inside and not one minute passed before she reappeared, carrying her mother over her shoulders. The others laughed, cheered, and clapped their hands as Írimë skipped down the steps and tossed Indis in the back seat next to Nerdanel.
Nerdanel remained silent as Indis adjusted herself, grinned at Nerdanel, and said, “Welcome to my family!” before Findis jerked the carriage back to life.
*
The visit to Míriel and Faniel was just as spirited. Nerdanel was rendered awestruck by the annex alone, and she could only imagine what the Halls of Mandos and Vairë were like. It was a pleasure seeing Faniel again, who had grown into a beautiful woman yet still childlike in her innocence. And yet there was also a wisdom which drew Nerdanel to her, as Faniel spoke lovingly of having followed Nienna around and attended her lectures.
“You have forgiven Fëanáro?” Nerdanel asked in surprise when they had settled around the dining table.
“Him and Laurelin,” Faniel said with a small smile. “Had either never hurt me, I would have never come here and learned so much. I’m a stronger person now.”
“Wise woman,” Nerdanel mused.
“Guess what?” Írimë’s voice interrupted them from across the room. “I have found a bride for Ñolo! And one for myself!”
“Who?” Míriel and Indis asked at the same time.
“This is the first I hear of this!” Indis said at Míriel’s look.
“Her name is Anairë!” Írimë explained excitedly. “She was attending the same dance school as me, and I thought she would be perfect for Ñolo. I was right! For that, he must now name his first daughter after me!”
“And who did you choose, Írimë?”
“The minstrel herself!”
“We’re going to have a double wedding,” Ñolofinwë added, “in a month’s time. Sorry, mother, but we did plan to tell you sooner had you been at home. You are all invited.”
“I cannot leave the halls,” Míriel said, “but I may have a means to watch. Faniel, you can go at the light of Telperion.”
Faniel shuddered. “I don’t know if I can face the world outside again. Sitting out on the steps is fine. But with others around? But congratulations, to both of you!” Írimë and Ñolofinwë nodded in thanks.
“I always thought Findis would marry first,” Faniel said. “You’re very pretty.”
“I thought of marrying Alcarcalimo,” Findis said nonchalantly.
“He is a modest elf!” Indis said. “I remember him helping you with your first project at Taniquetil!”
“He works the hardest,” Findis agreed. “The others have tried to pursue me, but I send them off. But Alcarcalimo would do anything I say, so I thought him fitting for a husband.”
Ñolofinwë groaned. “You do not marry someone just to make them your slave!”
“You need to marry your equal, not someone you push around!” Nerdanel added, shocked at what she was hearing.
Findis shrugged. “Then I love none of my servants. What about you, Arafinwë? You’ve been blushing this whole time.”
“I…have a girlfriend at Alqualondë,” he muttered under his breath, but it was loud enough for them all to hear, and the chaotic chatter ensued once more as they bombarded him with questions.
“A triple wedding! Let it be a triple wedding!” Írimë shrieked excitedly.
Arafinwë shook his head, his eyes wide in shock. “No, no, no! We want to take this slowly! We have forever!”
“If you wish for three so much, then I’ll ask Alcarcalimo,” Findis said with a smirk.
“If you approach that poor elf…” Ñolofinwë began.
“What is the big deal?
Írimë sighed heavily. “Love, Findis! They must make your heart sing for joy and your spirits rise to the very stars themselves!”
“Loyalty, Írimë! If it is in the marriage you need not much else!”
“Do you think anyone would marry an elf living in the Halls?” Faniel’s soft voice broke their conversation. The two sisters glanced towards her, their expressions changed to compassion, and immediately jumped on the case.
“Of course!” Írimë said. “We will look around for someone for you! I found Ñolo a bride! I’ll find you someone!”
“There are many who work with me who are dependable and noble-hearted,” Findis added. “Shall we look for a man or woman?”
Faniel hesitated. “I don’t know, really. There was a Maia who once came to the Halls of Vairë to receive a new cloak Mother and I worked on. She was really pretty.”
“Who?”
Faniel’s cheeks turned bright pink. “Ilmarë. Her feet send out sparks of starlight whenever she walks. I like that.”
The others burst into laughter. “Doesn’t ask for much!”
Indis shook her head in amusement. “Are any of my children going to marry a man?”
Faniel considered the question seriously. “I also like Eönwë. He has wings on his back.” And the group gave another loud bout of laughter. Amidst the chaos, Nerdanel noticed Míriel, who had been quiet all this time, studying them; feeling Nerdanel’s gaze on her, Míriel turned towards her and grinned.
“Every moment of this,” Míriel said, “I’m going to capture in my next work. If only Finwë and Fëanáro weren’t so busy! Think of how much grander this scene would be!”
*
Faniel ended up watching the double weddings with Míriel at her loom, and one of their grandest tapestry yet depicted that of the happy event of Ñolofinwë marrying Anairë and Írimë marrying Elemmírë, of whom Míriel told Faniel tales of the minstrel in her youth. Years later they did the same for Arafinwë’s wedding to Eärwen, and then quite unexpectedly of Findis and Alcarcalimo. Perhaps it was the conversation Faniel had with her sisters, but something seemed to have softened the proud and loud Findis.
“Now I will have more children than Fëanáro will ever dream of!” she said smugly.
But in each visit she spoke more warmly of Alcarcalimo, the humility in her voice apparent after her previous visit, but her wedding came last among the children of Indis who did not live in the Halls. Faniel remained alone, but she did not feel lonesome. Her life was full of learning and creating. From Nienna she had learned much compassion that she even made tapestries for her half-brother’s children, the second son of Fëanáro having been born at some point after Arafinwë’s wedding. The children came quickly after, as Nerdanel’s own heart had grown to desire more. But more than once Faniel wondered if Fëanáro felt threatened with four of his half-siblings now married and having children, and he competed with them in that regard, especially with Findis who seemed to have a new daughter born every five Valian years. Soon it seemed all Faniel ever did was make a tapestry depicting the children of her sisters and brothers.
Though she felt no bitterness towards Fëanáro, she still had a moment of vengeance. It happened early on, just a few years after Arafinwë’s marriage to Eärwen. Faniel seldom left the Halls for anything beyond a visit from her siblings and Indis, save for when she came to tend to the flowers. In front of the Halls grew the sweetest-scented lilies in many colors. A vase of them in the annex of the Halls of Vairë always added a pleasant accent to the surroundings. She took some also to the Halls of Mandos, while she was in spirit form, and placed them before the tiny rooms where the suffering souls of departed elves resided. They would look behind them as she passed by to find fair companions, never wilting, and their presence a slow comfort filling their tormented souls.
One day she stepped out, fully veiled in black, from Laurelin’s light as she tended to the lilies. She was middle into her work when she noticed that another was playing in the lily bed. A tiny elfling, not more than a year old, with dark hair and a little pout on his face, paused while yanking on a lily and looked up. Taking in her full height and her veiled face, he stepped back and let out a tiny long sound, melodic and sweet despite his terror.
“Keep singing,” she teased. “I won’t hurt you.”
“Makalaurë! Come back here! You better not be eating any more flowers!” a voice shouted from somewhere off in the distance. Tiny Makalaurë took a few more steps back, the terrified sound still issuing from his mouth; making certain the woman would not follow, he took another step back, then spun around and dashed towards his father’s voice, crying loudly.
“What amuses you so much, Faniel?” Míriel asked when Faniel returned.
“Oh, nothing,” she said, waving her hand. “I just gave a child a little startle, that’s all.”
*
There was a running tournament held every year during the warmest days of the summer. Indis had competed in this event before and had set her mind to do again. Now that she was done bearing and raising children, she set her mind back to her activities, one of which was running. She was still fast, and her body quickly recovered from motherhood, as she was not one to sit idle for long.
She was not looking to compete as much as have a reason to run at lightening speed, feeling the wind ripple through her hair, though a few of her children who experienced her speed in running after them attested that no one could ever match her.
Until Fëanáro stepped beside her.
“You come to run with me?” Indis asked kindly. “It was a dream of mine before. You seems like you would be a great runner.”
“I come only to bring you shame,” Fëanáro said. “I will try to be gentle. You did have five children, after all.” And he spoke no more to her. Indis glanced at the audience; they were filled with the Eldar and the Valar alike, including Indis’s children and grandchild, and Fëanáro’s family and also - to Indis’s dismay - Fëanáro’s followers who regarded Indis with scorn. Finwë too watched, oblivious to everything as he always were; he offered them both blessings.
Indis would have let him win, for he was Míriel’s son, but his comment set off an anger long boiling but kept tight shut for so long. Indis wasn’t one to get angry; that was left to Míriel. She never thought she would be capable of raising her voice the same way her wife did, but when the runners had all gotten into position, Indis’s heart pounded with a scream just wanting to burst out. Instead, the moment “Go!” was announced, Indis shot out with a speed unlike any she had ever exerted before, leaving Fëanáro in the dust.
The shouts and applause barely met her ears, as she ran with such speed her heart was all she could hear, only slowing down when she crossed the finish line. Many of the other contestants were still running, and they made straight for her, embracing and congratulating her on her win.
“We’ve never seen you run this fast! Look! There are still some catching up!”
Even Finwë showed up, parting the crowd until he reached her, giving her an embrace and loving kiss.
Indis laughed and thanked them all, laughing louder when she could not even remember what had pushed her to run like this in the first place. It wasn’t until the event had settled and Indis walked alone back to the changing rooms when she heard feet stomping behind her. Turning around, she caught sight of Fëanáro just as he passed her by, grabbed her necklace, and yanked off the bride’s jewel from around her neck. Stunned, she watched as he continued walking past, the tiny white jewel crushed in his strong fist.
*
Nerdanel was first to come across what came of the jewel. She thought she had seen her husband grab something from Indis, though it had happened so fast she thought she might have just imagined it. But there was no mistaking the necklace Indis wore. It lay on the ground, the long grass nearly hiding it completely from view. The gold had been bent, and a thin line ran the surface of the pearl.
She pocketed the jewel and said no more on her journey back to their house, and she remained silent all throughout their dinner and rest, careful when she would approach her husband. She settled for when he was alone in his smithy, working silently but in a better mood than the previous day.
As not to startle him, she knocked and allowed herself in when Fëanáro glanced over his shoulder. His eyes scanned her questioningly, and without saying a word, she showed him the broken jewel.
“I found it yesterday behind the stadium,” she said. “Tell me why you took this from Indis. I saw you two together.”
Fëanáro’s eyes went from the jewel to Nerdanel’s eyes, then glanced away, pretending he did not recognize it.
“I have no idea what you’re speaking of,” he said.
“You and I both have seen Indis wear this necklace,” Nerdanel said. “Ever since we first met her. Why did you destroy it? Why do you hate her so much?”
Fëanáro kept his back to her and said nothing, but she pressed the matter till at last he drew a heavy sigh. “You do not know her, Nerdanel. She was the reason for my mother’s death!”
“How so?”
Fëanáro turned to face her. “It was weeks before my mother went to the lands of Lórien. I saw her crawling on all fours like an infant, tearing her room to shreds and calling out ‘Why, Indis?’ I’m certain that harlot poisoned my mother so she would take my father and make herself the Queen of the Noldor!”
Nerdanel’s eyebrows shot up.
“Do not tell me that woman is innocent!” Fëanáro snapped. “She hides behind a mask of purity and fairness, but in truth she is deceiving - a liar and a thief!”
“Hardly the Indis I know,” Nerdanel said calmly, thinking back to how much the two women cuddled and nuzzled each other during the visits, unashamed of displaying their affections before Nerdanel and all of Indis’s children.
At her words, Fëanáro glared at her, fire alight in his eyes. Nerdanel had seen the flames cross them from time to time, and at times wondered about his soul being made of a fire unlike the other elven souls; she had seen the same fire announce itself in her children in numerous ways. And yet though Fëanáro had some of his mother’s qualities, Míriel’s spirit was nothing like his.
“Do you doubt your husband’s words?” Fëanáro demanded coldly.
Nerdanel smiled at him. “Not at all. But I do believe that there’s always another side to the story.” And I have seen it, she added in her mind.
*
After her talk with Fëanáro, Nerdanel next head for her parents’ house. Mahtan welcomed her with wide, open arms, embracing her and picking her off her feet as though she were still a small child. Her mother Umbathë was sitting at the table, as both were just about to have lunch. They welcomed her, pushing plates upon plates towards her to eat, and asked her about her work and family.
She had not planned to sit with them all day, but after her talk with Fëanáro, the warmth of her parents was too comforting to decline. She dropped the matter of the necklace until they were all well fed and updated on all the gossip of their kin.
“What brings you in today?” Mahtan asked.
“This.” And Nerdanel relayed to them everything.
“Fëanáro is being ridiculous, but my greater concern is fixing that necklace,” Nerdanel said. “Is there anything you can do?”
Mahtan and Umbathë studied the necklace together, then smiling, they said, “We know what to do.”