A Story of Seven by NelyafinweFeanorion

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Chapter 6

Feanorian Week Day 6: Amrod

note: I had always thought of sloth as laziness, but the definition of sloth in the context of the deadly sins has more to do with apathy and indifference-more of a lack of feeling, a form of alienation and withdrawal. I think that definition works better in this context

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Amrod:

Sloth:

He had never been a morning person. It was challenging not being a morning person in the house of Fëanor. His father and his brothers all rose early and the house was loud and boisterous long before Pityo was ready to leave his comfortable bed. But he had learned that he could get away with it.

Nelyo, almost always the first one up, would start breakfast even if it wasn't his turn to cook. Macalaurë would usually help his older brother, even if he wasn't on Moryo's meticulous duty list for the day. Tyelko, always impatient, would either fend for himself or take what Nelyo made, rather than wait. Moryo would usually find the list and if Pityo was on breakfast duty his older brother would march up to his room and deliver a blistering lecture on responsibility and diligence while Pityo solemnly nodded his head and apologized from the comfort of his bed, while one of the others actually made breakfast. It worked almost every time.

Telvo would just cover for him, as he always did.

It didn't work on the mornings he was supposed to accompany Tyelko on a hunt. His rambunctious brother would appear in his room, rousing him with his booming voice. There was never any point in ignoring Tyelko-he only got louder if you did.

He never dared to sleep late on the mornings he was due to join his father in the forge. Pityo had done that once and had vowed never to let it happen again. It had been unpleasant, to say the least.

He first started having trouble sleeping when the tension between his father and his uncle Nolofinwe escalated to the point that it was permeating all of their lives. There was a shadow hanging over them that he alone could sense, something lurking that he could not see. His brothers waved off his concerns, immersing themselves in their lives and interests in ways he could not. His mother confided that she felt it too, the tension that seemed to taint the air around them.

Fëanaro's disastrous confrontation with his brother resulted in his banishment and although Pityo initially thought perhaps this was the impending shadow he had sensed, the feeling did not go away. It only intensified in Formenos, isolated as they were there. He felt his mother's absence all the more. She had visions, feelings, portents of her own-she would understand what he sensed.

He missed his cousins too, especially Artanis. She could always sense his mood, much as his twin brother did, but she had a much different way of approaching him than Telvo did. He wished he could visit her, but Formenos was much too far away from Tirion, let alone what his father would say if he mentioned it. Or her.

But she could calm his troubled mind as no other could, not even Telvo. She didn't speak of it much but he knew she had visions of her own and could read far more from others than they thought. It made her uncomfortable, to know so much without asking. But Pityo was relieved when she did-it made it so much easier that she just knew and then he didn't even have to talk about it. He felt the loss of her calming mind touch almost as much as he missed his mother's.

He stumbled through the days at Formenos, his few hours of sleep at night making him lethargic during the day. He went through the motions, in the house, in the field, in the forge. He couldn't bring himself to join in the debates the family had each night, the elaborate wordplay of his father and his brothers wearying him.

Was it true, as father said, that the Valar had tricked them? Was this existence all just an illusion to keep them docile and obedient? It made sense when father said it but he had seen how Oromë was with Tyelko, how Aulë was with Father even. Was that benevolence just for show? They had brought their people from the vast darkness, to a place of safety, of beauty, of learning. What could be sinister about that?

He wasn't sure he was ever going to sleep again after Grandfather's death. He saw visions of it if he did drift off, visions that woke him and left him shaking for hours after. He spoke little, finding it hard to muster up the energy for words. The fear that had come with the attack on Formenos only grew as his father's rage intensified, focusing on the loss of Finwe, those jewels that had been stolen from him, and his freedom of choice, if his rants against the Valar were to be believed.

What good were the Valar anyway, he wondered. They had brought them here for safety yet even they, with all their powers, could not keep them safe, could not even control one of their own. Was he to believe what they said, of the dangers and the wildness of the lands beyond the sea, the lands his father was determined to seek out? He didn't know who or what to believe anymore.

He followed Telvo, as he always did, to the square where the Noldor gathered to hear his father speak. He followed his brothers, as they took up their swords and swore the Oath, his heart going cold as he repeated the words. He followed his father and the masses of the Noldor as they left all they knew behind, to forge their path across the sea.

A sea stained red with blood. He wasn't sure if he killed any Teleri. He remembered Telvo grabbing him, shouting in his face that he needed to defend himself, that their lives were at stake. He watched himself pull his sword out, saw the torchlight glimmer on its edge, saw the red that stained it by the end, although he had no recollection of how it had gotten there. He must have killed someone, for the blood to be there.

He came face to face with Artanis, her brothers holding her back as she spat her rage at his father. His cousins had fought for the Teleri, it seemed. She turned to look at him as he stared at her, feeling the weight of his gaze. Her eyes took in his bloodstained sword and a coldness he had never expected to see from her swept over him. He felt hollow, empty, as she turned her face away. So he had lost her too.

Telvo pushed him onto the ship, to their shared room below decks. It seemed the ships were theirs and his father was determined to sail this night.

They reached the other shore, the ships put to rest by the sandy beach. He had not slept on the voyage, the hatred in his cousin's eyes still haunting him. He sat by the fire, eating the food Nelyo passed to him mechanically, looking back across the water at what they had left behind.

His eyes grew heavy. His brothers seemed to be in some debate with Father. He could not trouble himself to listen. Hadn't there been enough strife? He wondered when the ships would sail back, to bring the host of Nolofinwe to join them.

Could he sail back on one of those ships, forsake this Oath, this quest for the unattainable vengeance his father sought? He wanted nothing more. He wanted to see his mother again. He wanted this shadow to be gone from him.

He touched Telvo on the shoulder. "I'm going for a walk down to the ships," he said.

"Be careful and do not stray too far," Telvo said. "You do not have anything to say about Father's plan?" his brother eyed him curiously.

He had not heard Father's plans or what they were debating. It did not matter. "When have my words ever swayed him one way or another?" he replied as he turned to walk down to the shore.

He reached the ship that had carried him over and made to board.

"All must stay ashore," the guard at the bottom of the gangplank told him.

"I've just come to fetch my bedroll," he said, the smile on his lips masking the turmoil within him as he spoke. "I've no interest in sleeping on the ground. It will just take me a minute." The guard nodded his assent and Pityo made his way to the cabin.

He sat on the bed, his head in his hands. Father was bound to send the ships back in the morning for Nolofinwe. There was no reason he couldn't go-if questioned he could just say he wanted to do his part-it would be better than just waiting on the shore. PItyo was sure he could slip away once he reached the other side.

He had sworn the Oath though. It's weight pressed down on him. Would he be banished to the Everlasting Dark? If he came to Taniquetil, begged forgiveness from Manwe, would he still be subject to it? He didn't know. It made his head hurt even more.

He curled on his side on the bed and closed his eyes. How many days had it been since he had last slept? Without even realizing he slowly drifted off to sleep.

It was warm. He threw off his covers and burrowed deeper into the pillow. It was brighter now. He closed his eyes again. He must have slept through the night, he thought, his tired mind forgetting that there was no daylight now that the Trees were no more.

He wasn't ready to wake up. He had never been a morning person. He would rouse himself once the ship was at sea, wander up on deck and make his presence known. By then it would be too late for Father to stop him, to make him turn back.

Now all he wanted to do was sleep. He breathed in the salty, smoky air and clutched the pillow to him, sinking into the warm softness, the creaking and crackling sounds around him lulling him back to a deep, dreamless slumber.

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Diligence

He knew Father was disappointed in him. So he did what they all did when they were troubled-he went to Nelyo.

Nelyo was sitting at his desk, piles of books stacked around him as he made notations on the parchment in front of him. He looked up at Pityo's knock on his open door and smiled at his little brother. "What is it, little one?"

"Are you busy, Nelyo?"

Nelyo leaned back. "Never too busy to talk to you. Come. What is it?" He motioned Pityo over.

He walked to Nelyo's desk, his eyes catching sight of Nelyo's neat, even script covering the parchment. "Father isn't happy with me," he whispered.

Nelyo's arm went around him. "And why do you think that, little one?"

"I heard him talking to my tutor. He was getting the evaluation on our progress and mine wasn't very good."

"Has he spoken to you about it?" Nelyo asked.

"No. He left for Grandfather's just after. But I know he will when he returns home," Pityo said, looking at the floor.

"You don't know that." Nelyo gently lifted his brother's chin so he could look at Pityo directly. "It might not be as bad as you expect."

Pityo looked up at his older brother's gentle silver eyes. Maybe that was true for Nelyo-he never seemed to disappoint anyone.

"Tell me of your lessons, Pityo. Why wasn't your report good?"

Pityo frowned. "I'm having trouble with the readings."

"Sarati or Tengwar?"

"Both," Pityo mumbled.

"Just the reading or the writing as well?" Nelyo asked.

"Both," Pityo wailed, throwing himself at Nelyo and burying his face in his brother's shoulder. Nelyo's arms came around him and he could feel his brother's hand rubbing gentle circles on his back.

"It's all right, little one. It's all right. Don't be too hard on yourself. It's wasn't easy for any of us at first."

"You know that's not true," Pityo objected. "Telvo isn't having any problems. It's just me."

"Tell me what's giving you difficulty."

It was hard to explain. Pityo didn't really know himself. He just couldn't seem to copy the letters right when he used the script. Reading in either script was just as challenging. He would think he had the right word only to realize after he had read it out loud to his tutor that he had not gotten it right at all.

"All of it," he mumbled into Nelyo's shirt. "I can't seem to ever write things correctly or say the right words when he makes me read aloud."

Nelyo gently shifted back so they were facing each other. "Can you show me?" he asked, sweeping aside his papers and books. He reached for a blank parchment. "Do you want to write something on your own or should I write something for you to copy?"

"Write something for me to copy," Pityo whispered. He watched Nelyo write out a passage, his script neat, even and flowing.

"There you go. Copy that." Nelyo stood up and motioned to Pityo to sit at the desk. He leaned over Pityo's shoulder to watch as he formed the letters.

His characters were crooked and smudged a bit; Nelyo noticed that right away. That was of no consequence-time and practice would solve that issue. But as he watched the words slowly form across the page he noticed a pattern to Pityo's mistakes. There it was again; Pityo had written a b for d above also. Nelyo narrowed his eyes as he scanned his brother's work. And there-he had put a q this time instead of a p.

"That's enough, Pityo," he said, tapping the boy on the shoulder. "Let's try some reading now."

Nelyo looked at his shelf. He wanted something easy but all the books on his shelf would be too challenging for his purposes. He tapped Pityo on the shoulder. "Go get me one of the storybooks from your room."

He ran his hand through his hair and rubbed his forehead as he waited for Pityo to come back. He remembered one of his linguistics instructors commenting on something similar to this at one of his lectures-an issue with transposition of letters-he couldn't remember the exact reference though. He would have to see if he could find a time to meet with him this week.

Perhaps it would be easier for Pityo with letters in a book. Nelyo was proud of how precise his own letters were but maybe the printed ones would be easier to read than his script.

Pityo returned with his book. Nelyo sat next to him and placed the book in front of them, noting his brother's frown. "Let's try this one," he said, pointing to the first story. "Why don't you read this to me, Pityo?"

His brother's eyes grew wide. "Read it out loud, Nelyo?" His voice was trembling.

"Yes. Take your time and sound the words out if they don't look familiar. I'm here to help. I swear I have this one memorized-I think we've all read it countless times." He smiled at his little brother, trying to reassure him. It didn't seem to make a difference. Pityo still looked far too worried.

The reason became clear as he began to read. He read very slowly but what Nelyo noticed right away was that some of the words weren't quite the words on the page. Pityo would then pause, think about it, stare at the page and then sound out the word but more than once Nelyo noticed the word Pityo said was a transliteration of the word on the page.

He seemed to have particular difficulty with the word 'was', saying 'saw' more than once while reading the story. He seemed to pick up on his error after a few pages, realizing 'saw' didn't make any sense in the context.

He made it through the little story but Nelyo could tell the effort had frustrated him. He took the book back from Pityo and flipped through the pages. "Pityo, do you like this book?"

Pityo looked at him curiously. "I like it when you read it to me."

"Do you like to read it to yourself?"

Pityo shook his head. "No. It doesn't sound the same when I do it."

Nelyo nodded. "I think I have an idea why. Sometimes you switch the letters when you write-ones that look similar but sound different. I think you do something like that when you read as well."

"Does that mean I'll never be able to do it right?" Pityo asked, his eyes wide, the worry evident in his face.

"No, of course not! It just means that maybe the way your tutor is presenting it might not work for you, that's all." Nelyo smiled down at him. "One of my instructors mentioned something like this during one of his lectures. I'll try and find him this week and see if he has any suggestions for us." His face became more serious as he continued. "It might mean more time studying, Pityo. You will have to find time to work with me, if you want to get better at this."

"I will, Nelyo. I promise. I want to get better. I don't want to disappoint Father."

"It's not about disappointing Father, Pityo. You could never disappoint him. He loves you and you know that." Nelyo squeezed his brother's shoulder before he continued. "It's just that there is a whole world in books just waiting for you-I don't want you to miss the joy that comes with reading."

Nelyo kept his word. He spoke to the instructor and came home with a plan mapped out for Pityo. His eldest brother took Father aside after the evening meal that night; Pityo thought he must have spoken to him about it then. Pityo had seen a flash of frustration cross Father's face as Nelyo first started speaking to him but then something changed. Father's face brightened and he got that interested look Pityo knew well. He couldn't hear what they were saying but Father was rapidly questioning Nelyo. The back and forth went on for quite a while. Pityo was relieved Father seemed interested rather than irritated.

His observation was confirmed at bedtime. Father settled him in bed and stroked Pityo's hair gently off his face. He bent over him and spoke softly. "Nelyo told me what is going on, Pityo. I am sorry I was not aware of the issue. I will speak to your tutor tomorrow." He pressed a kiss to Pityo's forehead and then spoke again, even softer. "You must make time for Nelyo everyday, Pityafinwe. You must be diligent in this. I have your word?"

"I will, Father. I promise."

He was not a morning person but he made himself get up every day, before the mingling of the lights, to do the work Nelyo had laid out for him the night before. They would go over it together, every morning, before Nelyo left to work with Grandfather.

In the evening, while the others played at cards, or the word games Father loved, or listened to Kano sing, he and Nelyo would go upstairs and Pityo would read out loud to his older brother.

It took months of work and hours of their time but Nelyo's instructor had given him good advice.

And Nelyo was right-there was a whole world waiting for him in the pages of those books.