A Different Kind Of Peace by Tyelca

Goodbye in Valinor

After swearing the Oath, Curufin comes to say goodbye to his only child.

Telpërinquar sat in his rooms in the royal palace in Tirion, built on the highest ledge of Túna, staring out his window. The streets were silent, and the few who dared to brave the thunderstorm kept their heads down in silent determination. This should be a time for celebration, with everyone gathered before one of the enormous hearths, playing games, participating in light-hearted conversation and sipping wine. Instead, the atmosphere was grim and even darker than the weather that raged outside, and everyone was busy preparing for what would come next. It was hard to imagine it had only been yesterday that his father and grandfather and uncles had sworn to go to battle against the Black Foe; they were now packing their belongings and saying goodbye to those who would remain behind.

The door opened and Tyelpë half-turned at the sound. It was his father who entered; he was clad in dark leather and his hair was bound out of his face: practical garb instead of the flowing silk robes normally worn in the palace. He closed the door behind him and stood there, just watching him, letting his eyes take in as much as possible. Tyelpë did the same; he did not know when he would see his father again, or in what state. Curufinwë came closer and sat down next to him, close enough that their shoulders touched. For a moment his father was silent and Telpërinquar felt the strong shoulder shake through the thick leather that covered his arms. Suddenly he was enveloped in a tight hug as his father clutched him close; and he returned the gesture and breathed in the familiar scent of his father’s black hair, committing it to memory.

Telpërinquar was an adult, yet the way his father held him made him feel like a child again, when he’d scraped his knee and his father swept in to take the pain away. Except now it was he who comforted his father, and Curufinwë released him to look at his face. Tears glistened in his father’s eyes, but they did not fall.

“I shall see you again, my son,” he said, and Tyelpë had never heard his father so vulnerable, or so determined. He felt liquid tickle on his cheeks as his own tears made their way down. “Don’t cry,” his father shushed. “Soon, this entire business will be over; your grandfather will have the Silmarils returned and the Great Enemy shall be defeated. Then I’ll come home to you and your mother, and I’ll never leave you again.”

“You can also stay here,” Tyelpë said softly, and Curufinwë sighed, and the release of air spoke of weariness. “I wish I could too, Tyelpë, but I swore an Oath, together with your uncles and your grandfather. Evil must be extinguished, and if no one else is prepared to fight for peace, then we must.”

“Can I come with you?”

Curufinwë sucked in a breath. “Absolutely not! I shall not let you risk your life in such a way. No, you stay here with your mother, and I will be back before you know it, don’t worry. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“But if you all go fight Melkor, then why can I not go? Everybody goes!” Curufinwë closed his eyes for a moment, and now the tears did fall. He pulled Tyelpë close again, and when he spoke it was a whisper in his ear. “Do you remember how grandfather Fëanáro looked when your great-grandfather Finwë died? I shall never forget the look on his face; it was the first time I realized that sometimes, I needed to be there for him, instead of he for me, as he’d always been. I do not want you to experience the same pain he felt, to see my corpse lying broken and battered in the dust.”

“Then you should not go,” Telpërinquar stated again and his voice hitched.

“I have sworn an Oath, Tyelpë,” Curufinwë said softly. “Not just the one you heard on the square, the one that we all swore, but another one as well. I vowed to myself that I would stand by my father when he needed me most, like he did for me and like I do for you. I cannot abandon him now, not when the safety of the entire world is at stake.”

To that Telpërinquar could say nothing and just hugged his father again, not wanting tomorrow to come. “Stay safe for me, Tyelpë,” he heard whispered in his ear, but in the privacy of his thoughts he made his own promise: to be there for his father when he needed to as his family waged war on the Dark Lord.